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theno1joelhater · 1 month

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emily wokerson. she has blue hair and pronouns. weezer blue. it is her hair color. and eye color. i’ve just decided. now for a somewhat thorough analysis on emily wokerson that’s more headcanon backstory than anything. sources at the end !!!!

as we’ve seen in the emily v rich video (1), emily’s trying to get away from her wealthy heritage, and in the video where ray cist is revealed (2) we see why! sheesh, her dad is ray cist?! did not see that coming at all. still, it provides a probable reason to why she is the way that she is.

now, let’s start off with a fact: emily wokerson hates her father. while he does seem to have the best interests of his daughter (i think) and grandchild at heart (3), he is incredibly racist and homophobic (kinda the point of his chr, but i digress). emily, being a queer person, disapproves of her father’s views. she disapproves of him so much so that she went in the complete opposite direction of him—an insufferable racist to an insufferable twitter user.

not only that: emily is intersex (7). ray, being the little bitch that he is, could’ve hid this from her since birth. based off what we know of his views (hates queer people) ray wouldn’t accept that his child was born intersex. he’s super rich too (2), so i’d imagine he could afford to pay off the doctors into changing the birth records or whatever to say that his kid is female and hide this from her, just like how he hid the fact that emily’s great grandmother is black (4).

speaking of which !!!! that was such a twist. fr tho i genuinely didn’t expect that. but i’m getting off topic here—time to actually discuss this. emily is part black. i wouldn’t imagine it was from her mother’s side, otherwise ray would not go through with the wedding. it must’ve been through ray’s side. but how? how does someone who has a black grandma turn out super racist?

well there good you, i have an explanation! not a great one yes, but it’s better than nothing! so, ray’s grandma is black. that could mean that one side of his family is black, while the other is white. for simplicity’s sake (and in my headcanons), let’s say his mom’s side was black and his father’s side was white. ray was mostly raised by his father’s side of the family. they all disapproved of his father’s marriage, and isolated ray from his parents. they taught him that people that are poc/queer/women/etc are lesser to them. his ideals were passed down from his father’s side. ray cist is nothing but a product of his environment.

so now for emily. she wasn’t raised by her parents—they’re far too busy for that. they’d usually hire someone else to do so, but the people they hire only care about the money. they don’t care for emily much. she was raised by the internet. there she’d form the insufferable views that she has now. one day, she ran away from home with a couple hundred thousand dollars. not like they would notice, they barely spend time with their daughter (they would).

now, back to “theory” work. emily was closer to her mother than her father. i assume this because she took her mother’s last name (1)(3). however she doesn’t associate with them. why? well, i know why!!!

her mom was less outwardly hateful of her views. when emily’s mom was a child, she went through a similar phase (headcanon btw). she’d consider her past self silly and childish, so she treats emily that way. whenever emily airs her grievances on how to use her family’s wealth or her woke-y ways her mom’s all like “haha (but more posh) that’s nice emily. now run along, mommy’s busy.” she still doesn’t like her mom because she constantly ignores her (so neglectfulparentscore) but hates her a lot less than ray. but what would ray do? what was he like as a parent (besides a neglectful piece of shit)?

well, i don’t think i have to say that i have an answer. i think you get it. ray would tell emily her ideas are wrong. ray would try to teach her the “correct” ways like his father’s family did. to ray, what his father’s family taught him was right and emily was wrong. emily is a silly child who doesn’t know right from wrong, and he needs to teach her what’s correct. however, he’s too busy being rich and stuff so he can’t and then emily gets all her opinions from twitter. sucks to suck i guess.

ok switching topics. like i said before, emily ran away from home. not only was the whole culmination of her parents not taking her seriously and other things made her get fed up and she ditched her parents to go find people that share the same beliefs as her—people that understood her—people that wouldn’t treat her like a confused kid. because in my eyes, that’s all emily wants. she wants to be taken seriously instead of some annoying bitch. and timothy’s the only one who does that.

timothy bichboy may be a little bitch (boy), but he’s the only person that actually treats emily like a person. in all her other interactions with others, they see her as a nuisance (don’t believe me? just look at every interaction she’s ever had!). a more specific example is her video with frank leigh, where frank outright calls her annoying (5). in her date with timothy, he actually takes her views seriously and picks a location that she would like (6). timothy actually thought of emily as something other than an annoying bitch. he thought of her as a person. that alone was so much more than what others have done to her. it’s why that despite everything, emily is still with timothy. he cares about her. he would do anything for her. he loves her. emily’s never experienced something quite like that before. emily was neglected by everyone in her life, and whenever she was given attention they always brushed her off as some annoying child. timothy never did that. he always supported her. and thats all emily really wanted in life—support. but even with timothy, emily still seeks out attention.

i propose that the reason for her woke-ness, besides the early internet access, is because of the lack of attention in her childhood (there’s other reasons too, just let me get through this). like i said before, emily’s parents neglected her. the way she dealt with this as a child was through the internet. emily was a very prominent (infamous or not, i’ll let you decide) figure in the online queer community. there, she could talk to people that really understood her. but there was something missing. online attention wasn’t enough—she wanted real connection too—connection that wasn’t through a screen. she wanted real friends, friends that weren’t online. the only thing is that emily didn’t know how. for how big her online presence was, emily was incredibly socially awkward irl. the way she made friends online was through being “woke”, so her online persona and her real life persona slowly blended together until emily wokerson became the person that she is today.

not only that, i believe that her woke ways are emily’s attempt to make up for the past transgressions of her family. as we know, both of her parents are rich as fuck. and as we know from real life, there’s no such thing as an ethical billionaire. we even know ray is a bad person!! he owns a plantation (2)!! ray is also incredibly racist (just look at his name) so that’s not very sigma of him. i wouldn’t be surprised if ray was doing more sketchy shit too (i think it was confirmed that he’s sketchy in 3 but don’t take my word for it). we may not know much of emily’s mom, but she is “distantly related to the royal family” (3), and those guys are not great (imo that is. they’re probably bad people but i don’t want to find a source for that). emily becoming such a loud advocate for minorities is her way of saying sorry to all those that have been affected by her parents.

another thing is that emily desperately wants—no, needs validation (ik this could fall under the paragraph abt her doing this for attention but shut up). growing up with such neglectful, dismissive parents would obviously make her an attention seeker. maybe all this woke behavior is a cry for help. maybe she just wants someone to tell her she’s right and that she’s doing a good job and—oh god am i projecting??

moving on from that, there is someone that tells her all those things. there is someone that gives her all the attention and validation she craves.

yep we’re going back to emily and timothy’s relationship. mostly because i just remembered something. she called timothy needy (4). why is that?

i think you guys already know that im not actually asking a question and its just a segue to the next thing i’ll be talking about. so, like i’ve said before, timothy loves emily. the only thing is we haven’t seen emily reciprocate that much (i might be wrong but idk we barely see it so i think my inference is valid). if anything, she’s sorta an asshole to him (7)(8). timothy could be fed up with emily not reciprocating the affection and is trying to get emily to do so. emily has incredibly high standards for men (like in general. not the dudes she sleeps with) so she’d see this behavior as needy and says she doesn’t have to show her love because society caters to men too much anyways and other bs. eventually, i’d assume timothy would start withdrawing and reconsider their relationship but that’s a fanfic that i will NOT be writing !!! im working on the justin case sequels w the discord (lmk if u wanna join btw) !! i can’t do any more !!

so. anyways we need to talk about the dudes she slept with. bushy beavers and richard rider (and maybe kent taekehent) to be specific. not timothy. we already did him in length.

richard “dick” rider. he only slept with emily as a transition into sleeping with women again (8).

bushy beavers. he only slept with emily because he was evicted and needed someone to stay with (8).

again, i feel like these just goes to show that no one really cares about emily (except timothy). bushy said that he’d only ever sleep with emily for survival (8). i’m not even going to talk about how that’s not great and kind of manipulative. i will however talk about this: he doesn’t even refer to her as a person!! he says “that thing”!!! what the hell, man !!! richard doesn’t say anything explicitly rude to emily herself (in the baby daddy video that is), but he did sorta use her for his benefit and that’s not great. sleeping with someone just so you can get back into women? not very nice, dick.

so. kent. there’s not much to say with him, so i’ll keep it short. emily is not interested in him, but he goes after her anyways. why? because to him, women are shy and are scared to admit their feelings and it’s his job to help him get them out of their shells. there’s not much to say about his relationship with emily, because there is basically nothing to say that i haven’t already. kent wants emily, but emily doesn’t want him. something i find interesting is that it’s sort of implied that him and emily did…something together (7). idk what because im dumb and don’t get this kinda stuff but eh. take that as you will.

also here’s the real reason i brought up the baby daddy hunt: why did emily sleep with them? we know why they slept with emily, but why did she agree to do it?

well, it’s like i said before: emily desperately wants to be loved. and timothy, while a good partner to her at the time, seems to be wearing her down (7)(8). in her more recent videos with timothy, she’s very snippy with him, often yelling at him. emily could be tired of timothy and instead of breaking up with him, she cheats on him instead. and she knows timothy’ll be fine with it because he’s all about empowering women and other bs.

now. going deeper with emily wokerson (9). it’s time. here, emily further cements her beliefs. again, richard doesn’t say anything explicitly mean to emily, he just finds fallacies in her logic.

the fact that he could find cracks in her reasoning shows that they’re not very solid. emily may be a loud advocate for minorities, but she doesn’t think out her reasons for doing so that much. she may say that she believes in the stuff she spouts, but her heart isn’t there. this further shows that emily’s beliefs are all just attention seeking behaviors from the lack of attention she received in her childhood.

so uh tldr? that one mitski lyric that’s like “and i was so young when i behaved 25, and now i find i’ve grown into a tall child” is weirdly fitting for emily.

also her mom’s name is ann t. wokerson because why not. it’s fitting. that and i’m taking a break from stuff bc of the discord justin case sequel. sorry cgcu fans of tumblr

1. https://youtu.be/Le6vcr8x3fA?si=Jb6QavtlmeKtFDvt

2. https://youtu.be/Fg2G_fsBfHY?si=gF8288mThqSkbDK2

3. https://youtu.be/S26wKPLPPBU?si=LvOoViEhGZwXBlH4

4. https://youtu.be/b3lNRmKQOBY?si=43okb_55MuFZUHa3

5. https://youtu.be/Wf57O9jEA-M?si=nYWcY9cIpV7DtVjb

6. https://youtube.com/shorts/V-izUYGH71I?si=lcaGji8B7VRD82SL

7. https://youtu.be/9yAAJBv8Zbc?si=P7ngDJbszdlZqkQK

8. https://youtu.be/ps42cY606Qg?si=R5Ir_3G5Rc-RYWI3

9. https://youtu.be/v8Kf7_ktgc4?si=yWD28fOF2z8WA-u-

#cameron geller #cameron geller cinematic universe #cgcu #emily wokerson cgcu #yeesh this was long #anyways lmk if u want to join the cgcu discord

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evita-shelby · 5 months

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They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 8

Cw: ageism, mentions of the Dark Days

Rose and Aveline belong to @justrainandcoffee

Tagging: @justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

Eva puts herself to good use, using her talent for horticulture as an excuse to visit the farm and spend time there ---she did run out of space at the victor village at least that part wasn’t a lie. She plants, hires workers to raise the animals and till the fields and makes it known that all the things produced there were free to all.

Her aunt had joked and said she should try to run for office, as if they weren’t all rigged anyways. Eva could do it, if victors were allowed to use their influence for anything less ornamental, but the Capitol fears what a victor could do.

She needs a way to chart how far this trail went into Two and Eleven. There were enough ruins to provide a good enough cover, but Eva feared the beasts ---both natural and the mutts--- that roamed these borders. Even worse, what sort of hell the President would punish her with.

Eva does not risk going past the first sign of danger, especially armed with only a walking stick and small pack.

Districts were carved out in ways where you’d be in the wilds for a few stretches to deter any type of travel not sanctioned by the Capitol after the Dark Days. Her grandma remembered how towns used to be here and when the borders weren’t fenced off like that. Even the desert had towns and cities that hosted capitol and district alike.

But then the Capitol started hoarding the things the districts had and began leaving them out of the government. 13, being the more powerful district with great cities and nuclear weapons, retaliated and losing more than just the war. All dead, everything ruined and a cruel punishment to keep it from happening again.

10 had been amongst the last to rebel, their usual caution and fears of repercussions had them wait until they felt victory in their bones. If they’d known Two’s mountains were impregnable, they would’ve never rebelled.

But they had and now they’re all being punished for it 68 years later.

Eva makes her way back to the farm cautiously, careful to avoid leaving tracks that would incriminate her. She is not prepared for what she finds waiting for her on the porch.

“How?” Eva asked, fearing they’d be caught in minutes.

“You wouldn’t believe me if you knew, kid.” Tall, blonde and dressed in simple but sturdy clothing, sitting in her rocking chair to boot. Lyme, Jack’s fellow victor and mentor, had come.

“She could be our symbol.” Clemens suggests as they chat over dinner with their strange new guest.

So many traitors sitting at this table. If Shelby wanted to, he could have them all killed, but he won’t. He wasn’t Snow’s lackey like his predecessor was, he has a secret goodness he cannot hide.

Why else would he fight over Cashmere to keep her off the roster? Why else would he cover up Eva’s fling with Jack? Why else would he have the woman who took Finnick’s innocence murdered in broad daylight?

This man was one of them. She’d known it from the day she saw him.

“No, she lacks the marketability.” Plutarch Heavensbee shook his head. “She’s charming and good looking, but her story isn’t very inspiring. For fucks sake no one even bet for her, nor did she have a single sponsor.”

And while she cared for Eva, not many saw what she saw in her. Not many remember Lucy Gray Baird, especially her own district.

“Her affair with Nelson could help.” Fulvia comments only to be shot down by her boss.

“Districts hate 2, besides she killed his brother and that makes the whole thing unpalatable to everyone even us.”

Unpalatable.

Same thing Tigris was called when they fired her.

Her modifications were seen as stunning and beautiful when she was young, but when age began to take its course, she was mocked and greeted with disgusted looks even from the Capitol who once embraced her.

Coriolanus had gleefully told her why she was being fired, claimed he had received complaints from both the districts and her own protégé, Eva. The last had been a lie, Eva drunk out of her mind at the second stop of her tour had told her to her face that she loathed her for making her kill Laurie.

“She’s not your symbol because the time isn’t right yet, Heavensbee.” Shelby narrows his eyes at the word ‘unpalatable’ as well, his entire life he has been branded with that. His marriage to Grace had proved he would never be able to remove the label, not while the old families still rule. “We will worry about that later, for now we need to find ways to recruit more victors to our cause. They have sway with their own districts, most of them. So far, we have Lyme in 2, Solomons in 9 and if Lyme’s mission is a success, we may have 10 on our side.”

His idea had merit. To use the mentors and other victors to build a network of spies and agents for the rebellion they are building up, to use their influence and hatred for the system to gain followers.

An uphill battle for those in districts loyal to the capitol and a walk in the park for those who aren’t. 10 needed more pushing than its counterparts given how close they are to here, but it was not as impossible as Lyme getting her people to listen.

Jack and his mother had some standing, Atia Nelson worked inside the mountain and flirted with treason. He would join them if Eva got him to, just like Rose, the stylist for 9, convinced Alfie to meet with them despite the risks.

Aveline trusted Seeder and Chaff and the restrictions 11 had didn’t need much pushing to join them. They’d be the first to rebel just as they had done 67 years ago.

The time was coming, Tigris could feel it in her bones.

“How far does it go into your district?” Eva asks the blonde mentor who has yet to convince her to join her.

“Can’t tell until you give me your answer, Smith.” Lyme takes no shit from anyone, made her a force to be reckoned with. That combined with her training made her unmovable.

“Its not just me who dies if this fails, ma’am. I don’t follow blindly, I need to know everything and see if its worth the risk I’m taking.” Eva knows they need a better future with the games gone and Snow dead, but it’s too much of a risk.

They didn’t win the first time, what makes them think they can win on the second try?

“The dinner Mr. Shelby had you get Clemens to organize, it wasn’t just for gambling purposes. They’re all like us.” Lyme gives no hint at her patience wearing thin as she answers Eva’s questions.

“Cardew is Snow’s great-niece.” The dark haired victor points out.

“By marriage, no blood relation and whatever she’s seen behind closed doors was enough for her to join. Shelby is not like Luca, Tigris is his cousin and you don’t seem to have a problem with that.” The blonde points out.

Touché.

“Does Jack know?” Eva finally asks the question that’s burning in her mind since Lyme arrived.

“Not yet.” Maybe not ever, not if you aren’t there. Lyme doesn’t say it, but Eva can hear it just the same.

Jack may hate the games, but he has his family to think of. To join you must accept you and your family could die in the process and even that those deaths will be in vain.

The cemetery was full of brave and drunks, her grandma was fond of saying, said so when Alan volunteered in Gabriel’s place and the train took him to his death.

But Eva’s been dead since that train took her to the glittering slaughterhouse beyond the mountains, Eva’s cousins consider having children something unthinkable thanks to the games and Tigris did manage to have a winning strategy, as loath as she is to admit it.

“I agree to join you on one condition. You must bring Jack next time you visit.”

#evacore #they didn't know we were seeds #jack nelson x eva smith #hunger games au #peaky blinders fanfiction

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crappymixtape · 2 years

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have yourself a merry little christmas

christmas is hard for steve, he hates it, any memories he has are of his parents out of town and spending it with his grandma or alone after she passed when he was 16, but with you it’s different | ( 1.2k, sad, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

H A V E Y O U R S E L F A M E R R Y L I T T L E C H R I S T M A S

🎶 christmas makes me cry, kacey musgraves

“Whoever invented Christmas trees should have their ass kicked,” Steve grumbled from on the other side of the large, bristly pine he was begrudgingly helping you string lights around.

“Tell me how you really feel,” you quip back with a grin, peeking at him through the branches. His brows were knitted together in frustration, fingers fumbling with the tangled string of lights in his hands. You knew how much he hated Christmas and so you knew how much he must love you to be doing this on a Friday night instead of literally anything else.

Steve’s eyes flicked up from the mess he was holding and he set you with a look. He wanted to be mad, wanted to hate this, but when his eyes met yours he felt the heat in chest shrink. How could he hate anything that meant spending time with you?

Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year, right? Well. Not for everyone.

Almost every single Christmas at the Harrington household was far from wonderful. Steve’s dad always had some excuse: an extravagant party in New York for a client, a last minute meeting on Christmas Eve he couldn’t miss, or – the worst one of all – extending a business trip to spend time with the wife away.

At first, when he was just a kid, Christmas morning would roll around and Steve would clamber out of bed, hoping and praying he’d find his mom and dad waiting for him on the couch.

Surprise, Stevie! We’re home early!

But it was the same every single year. Grandma, smiling up at him with a fresh cinnamon roll and glass of milk. A small pile of presents would be waiting on the hearth of the fireplace next to the tiny table-top tree she’d bring over, tiny ornaments and lights trying to make it special for him.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart, and she’d snuggle him in close and they’d make the best of their little Christmases together.

He still holds these memories close to his heart, knows how hard she tried, how much she loved him, but when she passed just after his sixteenth birthday those happy memories cracked and faded with each shitty Christmas that followed. No cinnamon rolls, no little tree by the fireplace, no warm hugs against the fluffy pink of her bathrobe. His parents reasoned he was old enough, he could spend it with friends if he wanted.

It’ll be fun, son!

It wasn’t.

So he erased the holiday from his calendar. It was like any other day, just with snow on the ground outside, and he’d crawl through it suspended between anger, grief, frustration, and disappointment.

Until now.

“Listen, this is impossible,” Steve grumbled, shaking the ball of lights, not at all an effective way to untangle them, but you caught the wobble in his voice.

Moving around to his side of the tree, you took the ball of lights from him and placed them on the floor. “Hey, I can do this later,” your voice was gentle, and when you looked up into his eyes you could see tears welling along his long, pretty brown lashes.

Biting the inside of his cheek he tried to feel anything other than the sadness that was suddenly swallowing him whole and he squeezed his eyes shut, tears slowly streaming down his freckled cheeks. He was holding his breath, a tactic used only in the most desperate of times, hoping and praying that he could suffocate it.

“Steve…” taking his face in your hands you pulled his forehead down to meet yours and without hesitation he enveloped you in his arms tightly as if you were the only thing holding him together.

His shoulders shook as he buried his face into the crook of your neck and you felt your throat tighten with a sadness of your own, wanting more than anything to take away the hurt, the pain that gripped him, made him feel so small.

You didn’t say anything at all, allowed him to be in the moment. When he finally pulled away to look at you, his eyes, despite being bleary, were still so damn pretty. Long lashes holding onto the last little tears that hadn’t made their way down his freckled cheeks.

Lifting a hand up to hold the line of his jaw you brushed your thumb over his cheek to wipe away the tears as he tried to give you a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Clearing his throat he shook his head and pulled away a bit to run his hands over his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, I know how much you love Christmas and all the lights and ornaments and–”

Cutting him off you grabbed his face again and pressed a kiss to his lips, swallowing the rest of his sentence. It was soft, languid and sweet, as you caught his bottom lip between yours, and his arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you in tight. The scent of the pine tree mingled with Steve’s cologne, the feeling of his arms around you taking your breath away. You wished you could stay like that forever, but reluctantly you pulled away.

Opening your eyes to look into Steve’s, you were surprised to find a small, boyish smile tugging up at the corners of his lips. “Okay?” you ask softly, your noses brushing together lightly.

“M’yeah,” he replies, voice sounding sturdier, more confident, more Steve, and it encourages a smile of your own.

“I was saving these for later, but now is good,” you said softly, untangling yourself from his arms and hurrying to the kitchen for a minute.

Steve watched you scuffle away, a confused look on his face as he combed his hands through his hair, trying to gather himself back together. Vulnerability wasn’t his strong suit, he was always the rock, the steady hand, the lighthouse in the storm, but with you it was different. It felt safe. You didn’t need the reassurance, didn’t need him to be the knight in shining armor coming to save the day. Instead it felt like holding hands, pulling each other up when the other fell, shouldering the weight together, and when you came back out from the kitchen he felt the corners of his eyes sting with tears again.

Your nose scrunched up as you held the plate of cinnamon rolls, the frosting on the top messy and untidy looking. “Sorry, Robin helped me, and well–” you half sighed, half laughed, shaking your head, “–I think they’ll taste good!”

Biting in his lower lip Steve looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks again, and when he brought his gaze back down to you he chuckled. “They look delicious,” he said, voice crackly for just a minute, but he recovered as he took the plate from you to put it on the coffee table.

Reaching a hand out to take hold of your waist he pulled you in close again, his other hand lifting to rest gently on your cheek. “Merry Christmas,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas,” again, a kiss to your cheek. “Merry Christmas,” a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Merry Christmas,” a whisper, and then his soft, warm lips pressed against yours as he wrapped both arms around your waist, the ball of tangled lights shining happily from the floor.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve x you

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lordy-lou · 11 months

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everything smoky-smelling (1/1, complete)

for naaer, in a slight AU where empire of the wolf has gone rather... wrong.

The first year that Mia sees the woman is on her seventh Halloween. Her papa had taken her trick-or-treating—talking the entire time about how it’d been very boringly different in the universe he’d been born in (she didn’t believe his stories half the time, but she knew at least this part was true)—and she’d been so very occupied with jumping from perfectly crunchy leaf to leaf that she didn’t realize she’d wandered away from her father’s watchful gaze.

Well.

No. That wasn’t true.

She’d sneakily let go of his hand and hidden as she’d run, because he’d been so very sad as he’d spoken about the differences and because every time he started to say Mum’s name his voice broke like he’d been about to cry, and she hated hearing him cry. He’d never really done it in front of her, but after—after, she’d been able to hear it from their bedroom and it made her heart hurt so very much, her silly, smiling papa all serious and downcast.

As for her, how she felt—well, it was hard to say. Grandpa Pete had gently told her that there was still a chance that Mum could come back from wherever she’d faded to, and Grandpa Pete didn’t always get along with Papa but he’d never lied to her because he’d also told her there was a chance Mum wouldn’t get back and Grandma Jackie had slapped him for saying so, right there in front of her. But he’d given her a tight hug afterwards, and said that Mum was the best person he knew and that if she could, she’d find her way back no matter what.

So. Mia wasn’t quite sure how she felt. She missed Mum. She missed Papa’s real smiles. But she also had her grandparents, her Yuncle Tony (young uncle, he’d insisted, and she’d smashed the words together to spite him) even if he did annoy her most of the time, and she still had her papa and the baby TARDIS coral in her room, which whispered music of comfort.

(Papa had asked her how she was doing, a week ago, and Mia had told him she had a very full life and whenever she got down, the TARDIS would sing to her. He’d gotten one of those sad smiles again and cupped her chin and kissed her forehead as he always did.)

Mia crunched another leaf, golden and crisp, beneath her sparkling sneakers. She’d gone as a fairy this year because it was good luck to dress as one of the fae in order to blend in with them during dark the night, according to her books. They wouldn’t be tempted to steal one of their own; they only stole humans. The streetlights buzzed as Mia tracked her way towards the park in hopes of claiming a seat on the swingset. She didn’t think it’d be very busy, not tonight while everyone was out going door-to-door, but sometimes it was hard for her to predict how other people would do things. Her teachers were prime examples: if she spoke too well in class, they’d be uncomfortable instead of interested like Papa. Some of the other kids would tease her for using too many big words or long sentences, and it’d taken a bit of experimentation to figure out what was and was not okay to say.

The streets were very quiet. And then, suddenly, the streets were very dark when compared to the bright light bursting forth from the park gate.

There was a sound like someone ripping through thick fabric, and a woman in a blue leather jacket stumbled into reality from nothingness.

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thewordworrier · 1 year

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It Started With An Alright Scene - Part Three

Series Masterpost

Word Count: Just under 6k.

Time for some introductions and a little light grilling!

When Shelly got home that evening, after spending time with her family and eating dinner, she made her way up to her room - a little bit earlier than she normally would. She wanted to spend some time trying to pick out what she was going to wear the next day. More time than she normally would at any rate. She was aware of the fact that Andrea told her to dress like it was just any other day, but Shelly wanted to put in a bit more effort. She wasn’t sure if they’d be meeting anyone else, if there were other options waiting in the wings, so to speak. If there was, she wanted to stand out because damn it she really wanted this job. She didn’t know exactly why she wanted it - she just had this… Almost burning desire in her chest. She really, really wanted it and she was annoyed by that fact. And no, she didn’t know why she was annoyed either. She was ‘just’ annoyed just like she ‘just’ wanted it. She really, really did. Maybe it was because everyone around her was so sure that this band was going to be Something, and she agreed with them. There was something there, something about them, something special. Andrea had been right - it wasn’t the type of music that Shelly would normally listen to, but she still found herself reaching for it, humming it, thinking about the lyrics, and still really liking it. There was just something about that music she couldn’t put her finger on. Maybe it had something to do with how raw it felt. Maybe it was something else. She wasn’t sure. Shelly stood in front of her open wardrobe with her hands on her hips as she looked over her blouses. She couldn’t figure out what to wear and she hated that she couldn’t just pick something already. “Honey?” Ruby knocked gently on the slightly ajar bedroom door, her voice making Shelly jump more than the gentle knocking. “Can I come in?” “Yeah, sure mama.” Ruby opened the door and went to stand behind her daughter. “Hey, are you okay?” Shelly nodded before running her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, I just… Can’t really figure out what I want to wear tomorrow.” The older woman gently pulled Shelly’s hair back over her shoulders so it fell down her back. “You’ve got that meeting tomorrow, haven’t you?” “Mm hm,” the younger blonde nodded. “With that band?” Ruby started playing with her daughter’s hair. Shelly nodded again. “You want to make the best impression, right?” “Of course,” Shelly let out a soft sigh. “I really want that job, which I still find a bit weird, but I really want it.” She paused and hummed as she felt her mother braiding her hair loosely. “I know that grandpapa is hesitant about it though.” “Only because he doesn't want you travelling in such close proximity with so many young men,” Ruby smiled slightly. “Especially young men that he doesn’t know.” “That’s so old fashioned though mama, you and I know that. And grandma does too.” “Of course she does,” Ruby unbraided Shelly’s hair. “She’s the one who’s stopping him from putting his foot down and forbidding you from going.” “I…” Shelly turned to face her mother. “He wants to do that? Even though this could be a really big opportunity for me?” Ruby nodded once and tucked Shelly’s hair behind her ear, which softened the younger girl’s frown. “You and I both know that he thinks that you running around after a group of boys, being at their beck and call essentially, is a little demeaning. He thinks you’re better than that, that you’re worth more than that.” Shelly’s expression fully softened and she smiled gently. “It’s really not like that though. If they like me, they’re going to have to trust me to look after them and get them places on time and…” She waved her hand. ”And all of that kinda stuff. It’s more of a people management kinda job than a -” “Serving kind of job,” Ruby finished. “I know that. Your grandma knows that. We all also know that you’re an adult now and you’re very capable of making your own choices.” “Even though I still live under your roof?” “Mm hm, you know we don’t have a problem with that. We’re happy for you to stay with us for as long as you need,” Ruby cupped her daughter’s face in her hands. “It gives you a chance to save up for the best home you can. And you know we’ll help you with that too.” “And you know that I don’t expect you to do that, I’ll have enough for a nice little place eventually.” Ruby hummed and watched as her daughter turned to look through her wardrobe again. “You respect us enough to confide in us,” Ruby continued, resting her chin on her daughter’s shoulder. “And you even still ask us for advice. You still let us into your life and we appreciate that. I think that’s why your grandpapa isn’t being too stubborn about this job thing. He knows that you’re not going to keep things quiet.” “Yeah,” Shelly leant back into her mother’s hug. “I know he could always be stricter.” “Exactly. You have to remember that you’re always going to be his little Sea-Shell. He’s just worried about you.” “Oh, I know mama,” Shelly sighed deeply. “I know. I don’t think he’s got anything to worry about. You know that I’ll keep in contact, and you know that I can stand up for myself.” “I know honey,” Ruby straightened up and turned her daughter around so they were facing each other again. “Listen to me for a moment, okay?” The shorter, younger blonde nodded and watched her mother’s hands rest on her shoulders. She then looked from her mum’s hands to her face. “You know that if anything ever goes wrong,” Ruby said softly but seriously. “Anything at all, all you need to do is call us and we’ll get you home. No matter what the time is, or how far away you are, we’ll do it. You know that, right?” Shelly nodded. “I know mama, I know.” Ruby studied her daughter for a moment until Shelly flashed her a somewhat cheesy grin. The older Sketcher chuckled and shook her head. “Alright,” she said quietly. “Okay. You know that, no matter what, you can always come home.” “Of course I know that mama,” Shelly’s expression and tone softened. “I do know that.” “Good.” Shelly hugged her mother tightly for a moment, feeling her mother hug her back just as tightly. “Okay, now can you help me pick something to wear tomorrow?” Ruby nodded. “Sure baby, let’s see what we’ve got here.” ~~~ Shelly made her way into work the next day and set about her usual morning tasks. As to be expected, she had put more effort into her clothing that day; she’d worn a crisper blouse in a colour that her mother had said was incredibly flattering on her. Shelly trusted her mother to guide her right when she (Shelly) wasn’t sure. So she trusted that the colour of her blouse was flattering but not distracting. She’d picked out a smart skirt (that was also more importantly comfortable, and also cute) and her favourite pair of low heeled shoes. She only picked these heels because she had the feeling that she wouldn’t be leaving the building to run errands - she had a pair of flat shoes stashed at work for that anyway. She liked these heels; she could actually walk in them for one, and she could wear them for a long time without feeling it too much, if she needed to. She’d also put a little more effort into her make-up that morning as well. Ultimately, she knew that no matter what she did, Andrea wouldn’t mind. She didn’t really mind what Shelly wore to work, or how she did her hair or make-up nowadays because Shelly had proven herself to be good at her job no matter what she wore. Andrea would give Shelly a heads up if she needed to be dressed smarter or if she needed to be more casual, but other than that it was Shelly’s choice. The blonde knocked on the door to Andrea’s office and waited for permission before entering. She smiled brightly at the older woman, and put her coffee in front of her before sitting opposite her boss. “Thank you Shelly, and good morning,” Andrea sipped her coffee. “I see you dressed up a little more today.” Shelly nodded. “I really wanted to make a good impression. I really want this job.” Andrea nodded and smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine.” “I…” Shelly paused and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. I’m nervous. I’m not sure if it looks like I’ve tried too hard. My mother says it doesn’t but… I don’t know.” “I don’t think so,” Andrea said after a moment, during which she looked her assistant over. “I think your mother is right. You look good. Yes, I can tell that you’ve put a little more thought into yourself today; you look more…” She paused again and waved her hand to find the right word. “You look more precise. You look a little neater.” Shelly frowned and tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong kid,” Andrea said gently and almost affectionately. “You always look neat and put together for me. But you look more so today.” “That’s…” Shelly hesitated. “That’s good though, right?” “Oh of course. You don’t look too different from any other work day,” Andrea paused before grinning. “Not that they’d know anyway.” “Yeah, yeah of course they won’t know,” Shelly huffed out a sigh before sitting up straighter, trying to act like she wasn’t nervous, but the way that she kept rubbing the pads of her fingers over her newly painted nails was telling a different story. “Shelly, you’ll be fine. They’re just going to talk to you for a bit, ask you some questions and get your opinion on a few things,” Andrea leant her elbow on her desk before resting her chin on her hand. “Don’t be afraid to be honest; they’ll appreciate that more than you telling them what you think they want to hear.” “Lying will probably come back to bite me in the butt later on anyway,” Shelly muttered. “And there’s no guarantee that I’ll figure out what it is they want to hear anyway.” Andrea nodded. “Exactly. Plus it’s just easier to be honest.” Shelly nodded once in agreement before humming for a second. “Do they know anything about me?” “I don’t think so. Just that they’re here to meet someone who’s highly recommended for the job. I’m not even sure that they’ve been told your gender.” The blonde leant back in her chair for a moment, humming as she thought about this. After another minute, she shook her head, sat up and leant forward a bit. Andrea had watched this, sipping her coffee. Sometimes she knew it was best just to let the girl think for a few moments; she normally came to the ‘right’ answer, or the most logical one, on her own if you gave her a moment. “Okay,” Shelly said with a small smile. “What do you need me to do until they get here?” Andrea chuckled a little - that was just like her; wanting to stay busy and/or wanting to just act like everything was just a regular day. She wasn’t one to ignore her duties for some little thing such as a possibly career changing interview. Andrea set her a few tasks to do - nothing too strenuous or stressful because she could tell that Shelly was clearly nervous, even though the girl would probably never really admit it out loud. She made sure to set her assistant some tasks that she could lose herself in for a few hours, which didn’t really require too much brain power. At some point, Shelly remembered to take a short break so she could grab a small snack and a drink; she wasn’t sure if she was just hungry or nervous, so she used the process of elimination. (It turned out to be a lovely mix of the two feelings.) She stopped by her own desk afterwards to grab her organiser and was just on her way to Andrea’s office to report back and get the next few tasks when the two women almost walked into each other. “Ah,” Andrea smiled at her. “There you are. Are you ready?” Shelly blinked rapidly. “They’re here?” “Yup, they’re in one of the comfier, more casual meeting rooms. They all already have coffee and whatever else, so we don’t need to worry about that.” “Oh! Um,” Shelly bit her bottom lip for a moment before smoothing down her clothes and huffing out a sigh. “I guess I’m ready?” They walked to the meeting room together and stopped just outside the door. “Shelly.” She looked up at her boss. “Mm?” “I’m not going to be in there with you for the whole time,” Andrea said with a small shake of her head. “I’m just going to introduce you to them and them to you, then I’m going to leave so they can, essentially, interview you. Okay?�� “Um,” Shelly swallowed and nodded. “Okay.” “Don’t worry girl,” Andrea smiled and squeezed Shelly’s shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “I hope so,” Shelly whispered. Andrea smiled gently at her before turning to knock on the door. She paused before opening the door and stepping inside the room, leaving Shelly outside with the door open a bit. Shelly nipped her bottom lip and stayed out of the way so she couldn’t be seen, leaning against the wall next to the door a bit to hold herself up. “Good day gentlemen,” she heard Andrea say brightly. “I’m glad to see that you all made it in one piece. I trust that you’ve been well taken care of so far?” Shelly heard some noises of affirmation and she knew her boss would’ve nodded at that. “I’m glad to hear that,” Andrea continued before pausing for a moment. “Are you aware why you’re here?” “Someone mentioned something about us being here to meet someone?” One voice said, though Shelly wasn’t sure who that was. “Uh,” said another. “I think they said something about an… Assistant of sorts?” “That’s right,” Andrea nodded at the guys. “A lot of people who work here - at the label, not just this office specifically, really believe in you guys.” Shelly tried not to giggle when she heard the sounds of embarrassed mumbling coming from the band the other side of the door. “And to help you start off on the right foot, from here,” Andrea continued. “We’d like to give you an advantage in the form of an assistant. That is, if you get on with the one that we think is the best of the bunch.” Shelly cleared her throat softly and felt herself blushing at Andrea’s words - she’d never agree with them, but she was still touched knowing that people thought that about her. “What if we don’t like them?” A different, third voice asked. There was silence for a moment before Andrea spoke again. “If that’s the case, then we’ll go back to the drawing board and find you someone else. But, you’re going to need someone to, for example, make sure that you’re in the right place at the right time.” That third voice spoke again. “No offence, but we’ve been doing alright so far.” “That may be so,” Andrea’s voice was gentle and Shelly could tell that she was smiling, although it was probably her ‘placate the talent’ smile. “But with a new contract comes new perks and new advantages. Besides, if everyone here is right, you guys are going to get pretty big pretty fast. You’ll need someone to help you keep up.” There was a moment of silence from the band. “You might not believe it but a lot of us here do,” Andrea’s tone was gentler and more sincere now and she let her words hang in the air for a minute before she cleared her throat. “That said, I’d like to introduce you to the best advantage that the London office has to offer…” Shelly looked up and was able to see into the room enough to see her boss looking at her, beckoning her into the room with a tilt of her head. The blonde sighed softly and slowly made her way into the room, standing next to the older woman, who only continued once Shelly was there. “Although,” Andrea had a grin on her face. “I might be a little bit biased, because she currently works for me.” Shelly giggled softly. “Gentlemen, this is Ashely Sketcher.” She looked up properly and swallowed slowly as four sets of eyes turned to look at her. She eventually managed a small smile. “Ashely, these are the gentlemen of My Chemical Romance.” Andrea then went on to introduce the boys individually while adding in who did what in the band. Shelly noticed that while this was happening, Frank was eyeing her with a curious look on his face. She wondered if he was remembering their short encounter at the gig a few nights ago. If he recognised her but couldn’t place where from. She remembered it - of course she did, and she remembered them. Although now she was seeing them all better because they were all a bit closer, and they were in better lighting. They were much nicer to look at in real life than the potato quality photos of them in the lyrics booklet that came with Bullets. As Andrea introduced them all, she nodded politely to each of them. Until Andrea introduced Gerard, the vocalist. Shelly presumed he was also either the lead writer or only writer of their lyrics. (She hadn’t really read the credits of the Bullets booklet that many times, but she had a feeling that the answer to that was there.) Gerard looked up at the blonde as Andrea said his name and brushed some of his hair off of his face, giving Shelly a better look at him and… Wow, he was pretty, and so… Soft looking. Soft, pale skin, soft brown eyes, soft (and pettable) looking hair… Shelly didn’t think she’d ever seen a boy so… Pretty. There was something so… Almost classical about his face, about his features… He was beautiful. If Shelly thought that her heart had stuttered at the show when she had just thought that he might’ve looked at her - that was nothing compared to what it was doing now when he actually was. She felt like she might’ve just short circuited a little, actually. Like there had been one of those… Record scratches and she was waiting for the pin to be replaced so the music could play on. She didn’t know how to really describe it and really, her brain wasn’t working enough anyway. Nor did she really have the time to dwell on it because Andrea was talking again, and that snapped the blonde out of her head. “You’ve all got the room for as long as you need it, so there’s no rush,” Andrea nodded to the band and then turned to Shelly and smiled gently at the girl before excusing herself and shutting the door behind her. Shelly blinked rapidly as the door closed behind her boss before she shook her head and turned back to the band, suddenly feeling quite lost without the company of her boss by her side. She watched the boys in the band look at each other for a moment, looking equally as lost as her before Frank shook his head and took the lead. “Ashely, right?” He asked, gesturing to one of the seats opposite them. “I guess we have to get to know you, so why don’t you take a seat?” “Oh, call me Shelly, please.” She crossed the room and carefully settled on the chair opposite the band, gently placing her organiser on the seat by her side. “I don’t get called by my full first name too often anymore.” “Sounds like what we do with Mikey,” Gerard said. You couldn’t really call it ‘speaking up’ because he kept his voice fairly quiet - quite soft. “Mom and dad only really call him Michael when he’s in trouble.” Mikey rolled his eyes at his brother before noticing that Frank was eyeing the girl with one of those looks on his face - like he was thinking and remembering something, like the dots were being connected, but he couldn’t quite place it and see the big picture yet. “That’s what happens with me,” Shelly admitted with a small smile. “I only get called by my full name if I’m in trouble, or if my grandfather is trying to get a serious point across.” “Bon Jovi!” Frank exclaimed suddenly, making everyone look at him - including the blonde. “I think it’s time we switched you to decaf,” Ray muttered. “No!” Frank shot the taller guitarist a look before addressing the other two; his explanation falling out of his mouth. “She’s the girl from the gig the other night. I spilled soda on her cool Bon Jovi shirt before Ray dragged me away from her.” “I believe,” Shelly said quietly, trying not to grin too wide. “You checked me out and called me hot.” Ray and Gerard groaned in annoyance, while Mikey shook his head. “Oh, you didn’t,” Ray said, rolling his eyes at Frank. “Not only did you nearly ruin her t-shirt, but you hit on her as well?” Frank started to protest, but his attention was drawn back to the blonde as she giggled. “What’s so funny?” He asked. “My t-shirt is fine. It was just soda. And being hit on isn’t a bad thing,” she shook her head before addressing the next point to the rest of the band. “He was relatively polite about it, actually.” Frank blinked rapidly before noticing that he was getting looks of disbelief from his bandmates. “Hey, I was!” Ray spent a minute looking at the girl sitting opposite them. “I think I remember dragging Frank away from you, actually.” “The visual was quite something - you have a very obvious height difference.” Gerard snickered at this mental image, only vaguely remembering part of it himself, before he looked her over too. “I think I remember seeing you too. You spent a lot of time by the wall?” Shelly hummed, nodding a bit - so he had seen her. “Best place for observing.” “Is that all you wanted to do that night?” Frank asked, taking the lead again. “Observe?” “Well,” Shelly shifted in her seat a little bit. “I wanted to observe and listen, obviously. I’m always up for hearing music live, and not just recorded, but I was there to try and get a better read on you guys, to see what I might be getting myself into.” She smiled slightly before she added; “The live music was just a bonus.” “Was that your first time, seeing us?” Ray asked curiously before catching Frank rolling his eyes. “What? She might’ve travelled or something.” “It was my first time seeing you guys,” Shelly said with a nod. “I did have to travel a little bit, but it wasn’t too bad. I’ve never really travelled out of the city, or the country for music though.” She paused and tilted her head. “Although, really, that’s because I haven’t had much of a chance to do that.” “Have you travelled outside of England at all?” Frank asked. Shelly nodded quickly. “I have! My family and I go to the States every so often on holiday. Um, vacation?” Gerard smiled briefly at her English to American translation. Or was it a correction? Either way, it was kinda cute. He sipped his coffee before speaking. “How… Long have you known about us?” The other three nodded, clearly agreeing that this was a good question. Shelly watched them do this before she sighed a little and uncrossed her legs at the knee to put both of her feet on the floor so she could put her organiser on her lap. “Truthfully? Not that long,” she confessed quietly, glancing down to flick through the pages to check. “No more than a week or two?” This answer, while honest, made the guys exchange… Almost confused looks amongst themselves. “What made you put your name forward for this job then?” Frank asked. “Because, if what you’re saying is true, then you put your name forward before you even heard of us.” “You’d be right about that - my name was indeed put forward before I heard about you,” Shelly tucked some loose bits of hair behind her ear; some of it was just not long enough to stay or be pinned back like the rest. “My boss did that; the woman who introduced me.” “So, it wasn’t initially your choice?” Gerard frowned, not liking the sound of this; it was sounding like she was almost forced? “No, it wasn’t.” Shelly paused when she noticed the looks on their faces. “I’m not mad about it though.” They looked at her curiously and Gerard continued. “You're not? Care to explain?” “Sure,” she moved back in her chair to sit a bit more comfortably. “I never would’ve put my name forward on my own. Um, partially because I really like my job as it is, I adore my boss. She’s great and we get on really well.” Shelly glanced up at the band instead of the coffee table in front of her. She noticed them watching her, listening to her, and she hummed for a moment before looking down at her nails while she took a second to recollect her thoughts. “Um,” she repeated before continuing quietly. “Partially because I like my job, but… I guess that I never would’ve considered myself good enough to apply for something else. So I’m actually glad that she put my name forward for me.” “It sounds like she knew that you wouldn’t go for it yourself,” Ray said. Shelly nodded. “She knows me quite well. I’ve been working for her for a few years now.” “Why do you think she’s backing you?” Frank spoke again. The blonde thought about this for a moment before she let out a soft sigh. “Okay, well,” she said quietly. “You heard her, she thinks I’m the best ‘advantage’ this office has to offer, so to speak. She’s almost always telling me, telling others, that I’m the best assistant she’s ever had,” Shelly shrugged a little bit as a gentle blush covered her face - she didn’t like talking about herself this way and her discomfort was starting to show. “I mean, I’m not sure that I agree with her opinion, but that’s what she says.” “If you’re that good, why would she let you go?” Shelly’s reply was practically instant. “Because she thinks that this might be a good opportunity for me. She doesn’t want to hold me back, and because she thinks I can do this, because she thinks I’m a good fit for this.” “Well,” Frank leant forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looked at her more closely. “What do you think?” “About… What exactly?” Shelly tilted her head. “I think what Frank is trying to ask,” Ray shot the shorter guitarist a look. “In his slightly aggressive way,” Gerard added with a raised eyebrow, although he grinned as Frank glared at him “Is,” Ray continued. “Do you think that you’d be a good fit? Do you think that you could do the job?” Shelly tilted her head, in the other direction this time, as she thought about it. She could feel their eyes on her again, but, thankfully they let her take a minute to collect her thoughts. “Okay,” she said after a few short moments. “What you need to understand is, at the most basic of levels, my job is that of a caretaker, actually.” They nodded before Gerard spoke, sounding like he was mulling it over. “Sounds like you’re a glorified babysitter, really.” Frank opened his mouth to make some kind of comment, only to be kicked in the ankle by Mikey. “Ow!” “Don’t be rude,” the younger Way muttered. “I can practically hear what you’re thinking.” Ray and Gerard both let out an ugh before shaking their heads and Shelly blinked rapidly as her brain put two and two together. She bit her lip to silence a snicker before clearing her throat softly to speak again. “Um, actually, yeah, in a sense. Maybe with a bit more paperwork. I basically look after the small things so that the person,” she paused before adding, “or people, I work for can concentrate on the bigger things.” “Frank might be one of the smaller things in this case,” Mikey muttered. “Hey!” Frank glared at him. “What is that supposed to mean? She’s shorter than me!” “Not in heels she’s not,” the bassist grinned slightly at Frank before his expression softened as a thought hit him. He turned to the blonde. “What are you like around sick people?” “It really depends on the sickness,” Shelly admitted. “But for the most part, I’m not bad. I…” “Go on,” Gerard pressed gently as she hesitated. He smiled a little at her as she looked his way, hoping to encourage her more. God, he was attractive, she thought. Such pretty eyes, a really cute smile, and he had a nice voice. She shook her head and cleared her throat with a hum. “Okay. Um, looking after people is kinda my thing?” She stopped, still not liking having to sing her own praises, but knowing it was necessary right now. “I think I’m pretty good at it and I haven’t been told that I’m not. It comes pretty naturally to me to be a…” They watched her as she paused again and glanced over to the window with a small frown on her face. After a few more seconds, she hummed. “It comes pretty naturally to me to be a nurturer? I think. I’m naturally very protective and pretty loyal once I decide to trust people.” “You sound like one of those, loyal for life kinda people,” Ray said with a nod. “Unless someone crosses you and then they’re pretty much dead to you.” This made her laugh, not just giggle, and Gerard tilted his head at the sound. That was… Really nice, actually. “Um, yeah, that seems pretty accurate actually,” she tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I can take a lot of crap before I decide that someone’s dead to me, in a personal capacity. But, if someone even breathes incorrectly in the direction of someone I care about, it’s a very different story.” “One of those, ‘do what you want to me, but touch my friends and family and I’ll have you’ kinda people then?” Mikey asked. “Exactly that!” She replied with a strong nod. Everyone fell quiet for a moment or two before she spoke again. “I will admit that I haven’t exactly worked for more than one person at a time, in this respect, in regards to this job,” she said quietly but she was honest - and that was oozing out of her pores. They could all sense it. “Not in an ‘official’ or paid for capacity, at any rate.” The guys shared looks before looking back at her. “It sounds like you want to add something to that thought,” Ray said. Shelly nodded. “I… I look after my family currently; here and there - though let me clarify that if I do get this job, me leaving my family isn’t going to do any of them any harm. They’re actually all really healthy and can look after themselves. I just like to help out where I can, because I can.” She paused again and the brothers shared a look. This addition was important to Gerard - knowing that her family would be okay. “I love my family,” she continued softly. “My family are my world, but they would be so upset if they thought I turned down opportunities to stay close to them.” “It’s nice that they don’t want to hold you back,” Ray said gently. “That kind of family support is really important.” “I agree,” Shelly nodded once, licked her bottom lip and hummed. “Erm, so… Aside from looking after my family on and off now… I looked after my friends in college and university. I’m pretty organised, and, like I said, taking care of people is something that I like to do. I’m pretty certain I can do this job even if it’s going to be more than I’m used to.” She dropped her gaze to the organiser that was still in her lap. It was open to the week where she was given her copy of I Brought You My Bullets; You Brought Me You Love (because, naturally, she’d made a note of that, and then later on had gone back and drawn a little heart next to the title in her favourite silky-pink pen.) She smiled a little, fully unaware that the band were watching her and exchanging looks with each other. “So,” Mikey said quietly after another minute. “If we were to get sick with… Whatever, you’d be able to help us out with that too?” “Although,” Gerard looked from his brother to the girl sitting in front of them; he knew exactly why Mikey had asked that. “That doesn’t really sound like it’s in the job description.” “That’s because, technically it’s not,” Shelly said as she looked back up at them. “Technically the job description is organising travel and interviews and…” She waved a hand. “Getting you from A to B in one piece and on time. Bonus points for making sure that you all look presentable and everything like that.” Ray chuckled and leant back in his seat. “But,” Shelly continued, the tone and volume of her voice soft and genuine. “As I said, I care about people. I wouldn’t want to see anyone unwell, especially not if I could help. Being ill while you’re on your own is exhausting, and sometimes you just need someone to help you out. Even if all you need them to do is make you soup because you can’t stand up for more than five minutes.” She paused and shook her head. “I hate seeing people unwell; I like to get them back on their feet as quickly as possible. Especially if I care about them.” Mikey nodded at this answer, having been dividing his attention between the blonde as she spoke, and Frank, to see how he would react to her words. “Alright,” Frank said, his own tone was softer now too. He felt oddly comforted by her words actually. He felt… Relieved. “Another question?” “Sure,” she looked up at him as he spoke, waiting for whatever he was going to say next. “Why do you want this job?”

#She Writes #MCR fan fic #Gerard Way fan fic #ISWAAS #The Origin Story

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nico-di-genova · 2 years

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Today i offer this unfinished snippet of a fic, because my brain has decided to give up on me.

Before Quorra, Sam was never much of a morning person.

He was more the drive around aimlessly until 3am and then crash until noon sort. The type to pull himself groggily out of bed when the sun was already starting its descent, and afternoon shadows were creeping their way up the walls of his home. Sam had always felt closer to the stars than the sun. There was familiarity in the spattering of those silver dots across the black velvet sky.

Quorra, she was built for the sunlight. The way it caught in the bright blue of her eyes, haloed around the sharp cut of her hair, gave her skin a golden glow that had been noticeably absent in the hollowness of the grid. She thrived in it. And so Sam found, that by association, he had been made into the sort who woke up to watch the sunrise too.

The three of them – he, Quorra, and a hyperactive Marvin – would make their way to the park close by Sam’s house, lay out an old Tron blanket of Sam’s, and settle in to wait for those first rays of golden-pink to light up the horizon. Three months they’d been doing this, at least once a week, enough that Sam was now familiar with the feel of crisp dew dampening his clothes. He had memorized the sticky feeling of early morning humidity against his skin and the earthy scent of the grass they lay out on. He knew the warmth of Quorra beside him, and the heavy heat of Marv’s breath against his cheek when the dog tired himself out from running circles around the park and came to pant directly in Sam’s face.

It was all starting to feel like home – comforting and safe in a way that he hadn’t had since he was a kid. It felt like skipping stones with his dad, fixing up the newest vintage car with his grandpa, bedtime stories with his grandma, or the fading memory of his mother’s arms around him. Sam clung to these mornings and feared losing them all at the same time. Because if there’s one thing he’d been taught in his life, it’s that nothing lasts forever.

“What are you thinking?” Quorra asks one of these mornings, when Sam’s found himself staring up at the hazy purple sky with unseeing eyes. He feels her shift beside him, her elbow bumping against his jacket clad arm casually. Sam blinks, breathes, and then shrugs, “Nothing.”

He was thinking that he could feel the coolness of fall creeping into the air, the change of a season. How it was a stranger in this familiar routine.

“Sam,” Quorra says, and Sam can hear the doubt in her voice. Beside Alan (and maybe Marv), she may be the one person who knows him best. Their bond came on fast, and Sam still finds himself frightened by how quickly he had let her into his life. This strange girl pulled directly from the virtual world his father had built.

“It’s cold,” Sam says, and then shrugs again.

They’ve been here long enough that the dew has soaked through the blanket they’re lying on and started working its way through the thin fabric of Sam’s jacket. He knows his shirt will be sticking to his back later in the way he hates. Quorra stares at him for a minute, another question forming on her lip, before she decides against it and turns to look back at the approaching sunrise. Sam has found that she’s not unlike a sunflower, something that naturally turns itself toward the light, who needs it to survive. How Quorra had ever thrived on the grid, Sam wasn’t sure. It was here she belonged. Maybe even more than Sam, who couldn’t quite seem to get his footing in this world.

Taking back ENCOM had been the easy part, it was learning how to actually run the company that he was struggling with. His business experience was limited to the few times he’d come to the office with his dad – back when he was six and had to be entertained with a coloring book his dad’s secretary kept at the office for him. Then there had been his two semesters at Caltech, where Sam’s classes had only consisted of entry level coding courses and meaningless electives. Sam had dropped out after a year, finding he lacked the ability to stay seated and focused in a class that was teaching things he’d taught himself at thirteen. Now, he’d taken back one of the largest computer tech companies in the world and was leading it with little more than hopes and dreams.

To Sam, it seemed simple. All their tech should be widely accessible, free, something meant for the masses. To the board that had a hand in approving his decisions, free meant bankruptcy. They didn’t like Sam very much and approved of his choices even less. Which, Sam supposed, made him more like his father than he’d originally thought – a successful legacy.

#i'm working on something longer now #but I didn't want this to go to waste #sam flynn #quorra #tron #tronblr #tron legacy #my fic

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jaxtaylcr · 2 years

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Full Name: Jaxon Taylor

Nickname: Jax

Age & DOB: April 21st, 1989

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Pronouns & Gender: cis-male, he/him

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Occupation: Owner of Sips & Snips (a barber shop & bar next door)

Hometown: Salt Flats, TX — lived here since he was 14, except for when he was travelling for music.

Birthplace: Los Angeles, California

Neighbourhood: Unincorporated (Grandma's farm)

Faceclaim: Theo James

♤ PINTEREST

Biography:

TW: Parental abandonment, drug mentions, substance abuse,

Growing up in Los Angeles, California, Jax had a seemingly content childhood. His father, Texas born, yearned to adapt to the Californian lifestyle, but couldn’t quite shake his Texan ways. He undertook the father and mother role in a bid to support his wife with her desired singing career. When she was around she wasn’t really there for the Jax and his brother the same way their father was. But one thing was for certain, she instilled in the boys, especially Jax, a profound love of music.

At fourteen, his entire world shifted. They moved to their father’s home town of Salt Flats, Texas after their mom left them. Being a mother was more than she could handle, and instead chased her desire to be a singer and ran off with a music producer. From then on, there was limited contact with the boys that only worsened over time.

Living on their grandma’s farm in Salt Flats was entirely different to the sporadic visits they’d made over the years to see her. School was different, the day to day activities he’d partake in were different, and there still remained the gaping hole their mother’s absence had left. Their grandma sure did try to fill that role; but she was tough, encouraging the boys to get hands on and assist around the farm. Jax always felt like he was in competition with his brother, and that only solidified further over time.

At sixteen, Jax was sure he hated country music more than anything else. It reminded him of his mom. And in a town where country music was just about all that played on the radio, he just about resented most people. That was until he met the likes of Maren Williams, a girl who dug beneath the tough exterior he fought so hard to exude. Before he knew it, country music didn’t bother him as much anymore.. not when her voice was attached to it.

As your typical high school sweethearts, they were on and off again for a number of years. His senior year, and her junior year, had them attached to the hip. He got into a local college, unsure of what he wanted to do with his life, and it still didn’t keep him from their relationship. They were truly in love and infatuated with one another. Nothing could tear them apart — until something did.

Oftentimes he would support Maren by watching her sing, and sometimes that involved her getting him to sing along with her. It took much convincing but she recognised a talent in him he didn’t quite believe nor see in himself. Encouraging him to pursue music, he eventually formed a band with college mates. They’d focus on small scale performances, which was more than enough for him.. and everything in Jax’s life felt perfect. Until Maren left for Tennessee, breaking it off with him in fear that long distance wouldn’t work. Her career was on the rise and, for Jax it meant losing the love of his life. It triggered his trauma, flashbacks of his mom leaving consuming him and, in many ways, making him realise that this was ten thousand times worse. Jax’s trust issues worsened after this and, he swore to never get into a serious relationship again. After all, everybody leaves right?

If there was one thing he wanted, it was to bring alternative music to Texas. It would be his new focus. The band he’d formed in college quickly became popular around surrounding towns, younger crowds taking a liking to new music influence. Although his father didn’t quite approve and openly stated that he preferred Jax focus on studying, his son fought for his independence and, with his rebellious tendencies, there was nothing his father could do to stop him. Over time the band grew and before he knew it, Jax was travelling around Texas, California and other states, performing as opening acts to larger bands, singers and musicians. The lifestyle was fast, busy, hectic. A whirlwind. Though they tried to maintain a home base in Austin, they found themselves being caught up in the wild lifestyles of tours and sleeping in different cities every night. This is where Jax’s substance abuse problem surfaced.

Despite the band being on and off for years on end, they only lasted a total of eight years before falling apart. Jax, still caught up in that rock and roll lifestyle, struggled to come to terms with the change.. with accepting defeat. It took two rounds of rehab for him to attempt a sober lifestyle. It’s been five years since the band ended, and he hasn’t touched alcohol or drugs since.

After rehab, Jax came back to Salt Flats with his tail between his legs. Having wasted a good amount of his money, his grandma encouraged him to invest the money somewhere. That’s when he took to purchasing a barber shop with a bar next door. The duo business, and his grandma’s support, was the one thing he truly believed saved him from going back to old habits.

Now, Jax lives in his own house, on his grandma’s farm land. He’s grumpy and gruff as hell; you’ll rarely see him smiling. He’s worked hard to learn to cut hair and style beards, and does well at it, too. His bloodhound dog, Bear, follows him everywhere he goes.. unless there’s an opportunity for food. Jax will avoid most social situations, and he sure as hell can be seen fighting with his brother ‘round town more often than not. But, if you dig beneath those layers, you’ll find a man that really does care, even if he claims he doesn’t, and wants the best for this town above all else.

#( — about. ♤ )

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liviareads · 3 years

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The Bathroom : Adonis one shot

Now this was written because I had an itch to start writing again after like 9 years, loosely based on the Euphoria episode season two Ep 1 (great show). I just thought it would be fun to write so please don’t judge lol. I can carry on if anyone would like this to continue. I have tried my best to be good with grammar etc but I was writing on my phone and in various different places while writing lol. I haven’t picked a face claim for the lead lady character yet so please feel free to send some through. Thx x

“Do we really have to go to this shit?” Roma exclaimed, her two friends Maya and Capri decided they would pull up to her place and force her to go to some party. Which she was not happy about

“Bitch yes we do, so stop complaining and finish your drink, we are here.” The bass from this singular house could be heard at least a mile down the road.

Roma huffed before taking back her drink of white rum and sprite, she sat their scrolling through her Instagram, liking a picture here and there. Muffled conversation filled her ears, she was not paying to Maya and capri’s conversation at all

“Bitch are you listening?” Coming out of her trance, Roma looked up from her phone at Maya.

“Not really but please repeat.” Maya rolled her eyes before filling Roma in on the plans for tonight. One simple rule was to get drunk, however Maya’s plan was to find a man so she could forget her idiot ex boyfriend for at least 10 minutes. If that

“Got it” Roma had no intentions on getting drunk, as much as she would usually be the life of the party, tonight she was not in the mood. However that didn’t stop her from knocking back 3 shots of Patron before entering the party.

“Can I just ask when were house party’s still a thing?” Roma asked the girls as she got out of the car, the liquor was slowing getting to her and she started to feel like maybe she could get out of this funk she was in

“Some guy I’ve been speaking too invited us, apparently it’s his friend’s thing” Capri said as she walked in front of Maya and Roma. The house they were walking up too wasn’t too big but not too small, probably the right size for a party. Nicely furnished from the outside.

Roma wasn’t sure what to make of this scene just yet, maybe a few more shots and she could vibe with it. Her and the girls made their way through the crowds of people, the odd few gang of girl’s gave them some looks as if they’d taken their man away from them. Laughable

One thing Roma’s grandma taught her, was to walk into a room and believe you are the most prettiest girl in there, show them bitches who is the boss. Grandma’s words precisely

“Let’s go do some shots!” Capri shouted over the music, the rest of the girls followed her into the kitchen which wasn’t too packed full of people.

Maya found 3 clean red cups as Capri found the Patron. The patron was poured into each cup and was downed within seconds.

“Absolutely beautiful, also I need the toilet so I’ll be back” Roma hated to break the seal but it had to be done in this case. She left both Maya and Capri in the kitchen as they downed more shots. She knew one of them was either going to be sick or passed out.

After asking at least 3 people where the toilets was, she finally found it. Reaching for the door handle, it remained stiff. “Fuck” she mumbled to herself.

The hallway where she was waiting for the toilet was pretty much empty, a door stood across from the bathroom door and muffled conversations could be heard behind it, also the aroma of weed was not hidden well at all

She began to knock on the door hoping someone was answer. Silence. Then she began banging on the door till someone finally responded

“Shit! Wait I’m on the toilet!” A man’s voice called out. She stood there swaying side to side trying to focus her mind on anything else but needing to pee. Didn’t work.

The muffled conversation from the opposite door across from the bathroom got clearer as the people in the room got closer to the door. The door opened and out a waft of smoke came, along with the stench of weed. Then followed a group of guys, who weren’t shy of letting Roma know that they were looking at her. Not that she cared.

Roma had this mean girl attitude when it came to men, she didn’t care for them, and she also liked to play them at their own games. She hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since the age of 18, she was now 23, however she did not feel the need to have one. All the guys she’d come across seemed to be the same in one or another. Assholes eventually. She much preferred living her life and making money, not having to answer to anyone.

The group of guys slowly started to pass through the hallway, giving a quick smile and wink to Roma, she just turned her back and began banging on the door again. The guy shouted again to wait which made Roma even more pissed. Roma slowly turned as she felt a presence behind her, it was of the guys from the room opposite.

“May I help you?” She asked, the attitude radiated from her body, she was not impressed at this invasion of space, adding the need for the toilet onto the list

“Need to use the restroom beautiful?” The smirk he held changed to a smile which revealed his beautiful set of teeth. Damn he was handsome. But Roma would never let a guy know that.

“I do but some ASSHOLE is taking their sweet time!” She made sure the person on the other side of the door could hear her, the guy laughed before moving Roma to the side

“Yo! I suggest you get out of this bathroom in 2 seconds otherwise I’m going to kick the door in, and then your head!” His whole demeanour changed, the sweet mr smooth was now a raging bull. Within a second the door flung open and out walked a guy and girl, he was doing up his zipper, she looked embarrassed. Roma rolled her eyes at the scene in front of her.

“I’m all for fucking in the bathroom but at least make it sure people don’t need it, we all don’t want a UTI!” Roma aimed it more towards the girl, the couple both shuffled past Roma and the guy.

“Thanks for that” She spoke to the guy, he gave her a head nod before she ran into the bathroom and locked the door.

Roma does what she needed to do, freshens up and gives herself a once over in the mirror, she needed another drink asap. Opening the door to step out, she is met with the guy from just a few minutes ago, he is now standing opposite to the bathroom door, looking at his phone. He looks up once the door opens, looking her up and down for a few seconds.

“Did you need to use it after me?” Roma asked him

“Na but do you wanna share some of this?” He pulled a joint out of his jacket pocket

“I don’t smoke, plus I wouldn’t take weed from a stranger anyway” Roma rolled her eyes, she began to walk away when she felt him grab hold of her wrist slightly. Her head flew round so fast, she shot him a look that told him he should let go.

“My bad darling, I was just wanting to have a conversation with you, somewhere that is not crowded” Again he flashed that million dollar smile

“My name is Roma, not darling” before she could finish her sentence he cut her off

“My name is Adonis, nice to meet you darling” Roma rolled her eyes at the ‘darling’ part. This guy thought he had some serious game.

“Carry on rolling them pretty eyes of yours and you’ll be stuck like it” he laughed. She felt a wave of embarrassment fall over her, was she really letting this guy get to her, let alone talk to her.

“5 minutes and I’ll back off” he said shrugging his shoulders before walking into the bathroom. Was she really going to follow, she didn’t even know him, he could do anything to her in there. He was a decent size guy, she probably couldn’t fight him off even if she wanted too.

“Fine but touch me and I’m smashing your head off the sink” Roma followed behind him. She had a sense that he wasn’t the type of guy to try anything like that. There was a strange yet comforting feeling coming from him.

“So Roma, what made your parents call you that?” He asked as she propped herself up onto the sink area

“After the city Rome I believe, nothing special” she was now right in front of him, taking in all his features. She couldn’t deny at all that he was good looking. He wasn’t about to find that out though

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman” Smooth talker too, 100% player

“Do you always talk to girls like this?” She asked raising her eyebrow at him

“I want to say no but I don’t think you’ll believe me, am I right?” He began to walk closer to her, which caused her to scoot even further back onto the sink area

“Bingo, I can sense a player when I see one” he just shook his head and laughed at her response

“Do you always act like this?” He mimicked how she acted when asking him the same question

“Yes because I don’t trust you men, all the same” The act wasn’t an act for Roma, she’d created this over the years and it had stuck

“Well what happens when a guy wants to get to know you?” He somehow got even closer to Roma

“They don’t because I don’t let them, it’s peaceful that way” A hot flush came over Roma at that point. She was wondering if he had some type of power to make her feel like that, because it had never happened before.

“Sounds like you pick some shitty men” he laughed. From what Roma could see, he most definitely had a good physic. The broad shoulders told her everything she needed to know.

“Yeah, look I better go, my friends are going to be looking for me” she said hopping down from the sink. She was now right in front of him, close enough to smell his cologne. His height was perfect.

“But we was just getting to know each other?” Another hot flash washed over Roma, she didn’t like the power this man held.

“I’m sure there is loads of girls out their that you could get to know and drop them corny lines onto” She gave him a slight nudge which indicated for him to move, which he didn’t.

“You know, one day you’re going to have to give someone a chance?” His hands now found their way to both sides of her, pushing her back towards the sink. Both his hands lay one the edge of the sink area as he looked down at her. She wanted to fight this feeling of excitement, but instead she decided to play the game.

“You know…I might just take you up on that advice.” She ran her finger up and down his torso. Game on.

“Smart girl.” He said while leaning even more forward. Roma licked her lips and decided to put on the sweet and innocent look, making her eyes glossy. “Can I kiss you baby?” As much as Roma thought about it who was she kidding, she wanted to kiss him however she wasn’t going to let him him have the satisfaction.

He lingered over her as he waited for her answer. “Mmmm, No.” she said licking her lips and plastering on her sweet and innocent smile.

“Oh so it’s like that ma?” Adonis now provided a little bit of space between them but still remained close.

“Yes, now if you would excuse me. My friends are probably looking for me.” She placed her hand on his chest giving him a slight push, this time he did move out of her way. She began to walk away before turning around on her heels to face him again. “You’ve gotta be better at this game honey.” She gave him a wink before opening the door.

To her surprise Maya was right on the other side of that door, just about to knock it. “Bitch! We’ve been looking for-.” Maya looked over Roma’s shoulder before looking back at her and raising her eyebrow. Here we go.

“Cmon let’s go, I need a drink” Roma grabbed Maya’s arm.

“Bitch if you didn’t suck his dick!” Roma expected exactly them words to come out of Maya’s mouth. She was going to need more than one drink for this.

#Adonis creed #Adonis creed fc #Adonis creed x reader #black fanfic writer #erik killmonger #Erik killmonger fc #Adonis creed fanfiction #Michael b jordan fanfiction #Adonis creed fic

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spinningintheshadows · 3 years

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daddy || drew starkey

It wasn’t a lie when Drew said he hated Kayla’s ex. He was a shitty husband to her and an even shittier dad to her son, Asher. Even at that, he never tried to replace the man in the boys life — Asher did that on his own, and it took a soccer injury and four words to make Drew realize it. (Stepdad!Drew Starkey x Original Female Character)

there will be a part two.

It was absolutely no lie when Drew said he hated his wife’s ex husband. Kayla had met Jason in high school, gotten married at eighteen because he was joining the military. Jason was a complete dick to everyone. Drew tried to like him at first, when he first met Kayla. She’d been working in costumes on Love, Simon and they’d become friends while he hung around the set. He could vividly remember the first time he met her, how he’d walked into the trailer to her wiping frustrated tears out of her eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice was soft. “I’m Drew, by the way.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got off the phone with my mother. It’s fine.” She told him. He frowned, knowing from having sisters that she was most definitely not fine, but he didn’t know if he really wanted to press the issue.

“If you say so, but uh, I’m the oldest of four and I have two sisters so I’m really good at listening if you want to rant while you work.” He told her. She let out a sigh as she got to work fitting him for his scene.

“It’s just, my mother called me to tell me that my oh so wonderful husband brought our son to her and straight up told her it was because he didn’t feel like “babysitting the kid”. Like, he’s your son, asshole, it’s not babysitting, it's being a parent.” She told him. “I took this job because this is my dream, but my husband can’t even be bothered to spend a few hours with his son.”

“How old is your son?” Drew questioned. “I’m just curious, but I kind of have to agree with you. Your husband sounds like an asshole. My parents divorced when I was young, but my dad still put in the effort to help my mom raise us. It doesn’t even sound like he wants to do that.” She let out a cackle at his statement, which told him he was probably right.

“Six months. His name is Asher. Jason didn’t exactly want him, either, tried to tell me to get an abortion but I wouldn’t do it.” She said. “So when Asher was born, out of spite, I gave him my maiden name. I guess part of me knew my marriage was a joke at that point.”

The pair became fast friends from then, Drew always lending an ear to Kay when she needed to rant. He got to meet Asher when she brought him on set because Jason was at work and her mom was sick with bronchitis and she had no other options. He’d willingly taken the baby from her while she worked on his castmates, pulling belly laughs from the infant on the small sofa in the trailer. It was two months later, when they were all going out to celebrate the wrap of the film, that things changed between the pair.

“Hey Starkey, are you going to the bar tonight?” Her voice surprised him, making him turn around and give her a once over. She looked hot, he wasn’t going to lie.

“I am. How about you? Going home to see your boy?” He asked. She shook her head, surprising him again.

“Nope. My mom and dad took him with them to see my grandma this weekend in North Carolina. Asked if I wanted to go, but needed to wrap things up here.” She said.

“Nice. I’m actually driving up there tomorrow to see my family so if you want to join them, be more than happy to give you a ride, Kay.” He said.

“I’ll think about it.” She smiled. “Didn’t realize you were from North Carolina. Where about?” He gave her a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets as they fell into step together.

“Hickory.” He told her. “Born, raised, got the hell out of.” She stopped in her tracks, staring at him.

“Drew I don't know your middle name Starkey.” She said. “How the hell did we grow up in the same place and never meet?”

“Hickory isn’t exactly the smallest place in the world, Kay.” He said. “What high school did you go to?”

“Hickory High School.” She sighed. “Hated every minute of it.”

“Aw we were rivals in high school” he told her. “I went to St. Stephens.” The pair shared a laugh as they kept walking, his arm around his shoulder now.

“Drew.” He told her. “My middle name, it’s Drew. My first name is Joseph.”

“That’s cute.” She said. “My first name is actually Makayla, I just dropped the first syllable when I was in middle school. Makayla Jane, that’s my full name.”

“Oh you share a first name with my sister, then.” He joked, “We call her Mack though.”

Many drinks were had that night. Kayla lost count after her fourth or fifth shot. She barely remembered getting into an Uber with Drew and him telling her she could crash at his so she didn’t end up fighting with her husband about her coming home drunk.

She might have been drunk, but she remembered kissing him in his living room when they got to his apartment, how his lips fit perfectly against hers. She could remember how she fumbled with the buttons on his stupid dress shirt to get him out of it, and she definitely remembered how good he felt inside of her when she threw all self control out of the window. Sex with Drew, even drunk, was completely different than with Jason. Drew actually cared about her pleasure, making sure she got off as well, even before he did. He didn’t treat her like some toy to get off with, and she’d never admit it to anyone, but with the way he moaned her name in pleasure made it really hard to feel guilty about what they were doing.

But she did regret it, when she woke up. She was married and she slept with someone else. Even if the gorgeous man beside her had treated her like a queen, there was a bubble of guilt in her stomach reminding her that he wasn’t her husband, even though her husband treated her like shit.

She’d told him that it had to be a one time thing, what they had done. It had to stay between them, and she wasn’t about to let it ruin their friendship.

“If that’s what you want, Kay, then okay.” He told her, throwing all care to the wind as he pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “But for the record, I don’t regret it. Not at all.”

Drew didn’t condone cheating, don’t get him wrong, but he could never regret that night with Kayla. It had, of course, made her marriage even more tense, which resulted in Asher and Kayla showing up to his apartment almost every day. It resulted in Drew starting to build a relationship with Asher, which warmed Kayla’s heart. It was like that for over a month until she showed up alone on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

“Hey what’s up?” His voice was soft when he answered the door. He could tell she’d been crying and he was concerned about that.

“We need to talk.” she told him. Okay, admittedly those were scary words. No man truthfully wants to hear those words, even if they aren’t in a relationship.

“Oh” he said. “Okay.”

The pair sat in silence on his couch for a while. She wasn’t sure what to say, despite saying they needed to talk, and he didn’t know how to start the conversation despite wanting to know what she wanted to talk about. Finally she let out a sigh and looked at him.

“I’m getting divorced.” She told him. “I guess I should be thanking you.” The statement took Drew by surprise, curious to what she meant by why she should be thanking him.

“Why should you be thanking me?” He questioned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You showed me how a real man treats a woman. How blood doesn’t make a family. Asher loves you, Drew. He’s nine months old and next to my parents, you’re his favorite person. You uh gave me the confidence to stand up for myself.” She said. “And there’s more. I just don’t know how to say it. You’re kind of the reason for the divorce but I’m not mad about that.”

“Oh.” He mumbled. Okay, he was officially a homewrecker, cool. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She told him, reaching for his hand and grasping it gently. “I’m pregnant, Drew, and uh, you’re kind of the only biological possibility.”

He could feel the panic rising in his chest. Kayla was pregnant….and it was his baby. He was going to be a dad. Their night of drunken passion had created a whole other person, who in a few months would depend on him for everything. Yeah, he was panicking.

“Hey, Drew. Are you okay?” She asked, moving so she could cup his face. To him, she sounded a million miles away. His vision was starting to blur and his heart was racing. Almost immediately, she could recognize he was having a panic attack.

“Hey. Drew, honey. Try to focus on me. Focus on my voice, can you hear me?” She let out a breath when he nodded. “Okay, I need you to take deep breaths for me. Slowly inhale, then exhale. There, you got it. Can you feel me touching you? Good, try to focus on my fingers. I’ve got you, just breathe and focus on my voice, on my fingers.” It was several minutes before his breathing returned to normal and he could see her face clearly in front of him.

“Hi” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Drew.” She murmured, “I just dropped a giant bomb on you.”

“I’m just surprised is all, Kay.” He said. “I’ve always wanted a family, I just didn’t expect it to be at twenty five. Asher and the baby are gonna be close in age.”

“Yeah, about 17 months.” She said. “That’s okay, my sister and I are close in age and she’s my best friend.”

“I guess that’s fair. I’m less than two years older than my brother.” He said. “Where do we go from here?”

“Well, uh, I’m pretty much getting kicked out of my house because it’s in his name. I’m probably gonna have to move back in with my parents.” She told him. “And they’re moving back to North Carolina to take care of my grandma.” He frowned. He didn’t want to be a five hour drive from the girl that was carrying his baby, he didn’t want to be that far from his child for the record either.

“You could move in with me.” He said. “We can share a room and Asher can have the spare room, or you can share a room with Asher. Whatever you're comfortable with.”

“And where is the baby gonna sleep when they arrive?” She asked.

“Well, hopefully we have a bigger place by then.” He said. “A house maybe.”

So she moved her and Asher in. It took some adjustment, living with a baby. Drew was always tripping over toys and since Asher was crawling, he was followed everywhere. Drew did find it humorous when Asher couldn’t get traction on the hardwood floor of the apartment and would look at him like he was offended the floor would do something like that to him. Asher got to meet Drew’s family over FaceTime when they called them at fourteen weeks along in the pregnancy to announce the coming addition to the family, his mother falling in love with the boy immediately and tearing up when Drew and Kayla asked her if she’d be willing to be a second grandma to the tot as she would be grandma to the new baby. She accepted immediately and was dubbed “Mimi” as soon as Asher could make the sound.

Kayla was nearly five months pregnant when they finally made the trip to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. Drew spent a lot of the five hour drive with his hand on her expanding abdomen as his daughter kicked away because her mother was sitting still. Of course, there were plenty of bathroom stops for the expectant mother and Drew knew they weren’t going to have much luck with a thirteen month old sitting still for a five hour car ride.

When they finally arrived, Drew’s mother was waiting on the porch as he held Asher’s hand and led him up the steps. It was game over as soon as Asher’s green eyes met Drew’s mom, his hand falling from Drew’s as he ran towards her with a squeal of “Mimi!”

He watched his mother scoop his future stepson into her arms and spin him around. He knew at that moment that Asher always had a family with his family. He wasn’t blood, but he was the first grandchild and blood didn’t change that. Drew turned around to go help his girlfriend, a hand supportively on her back as they walked up the stairs to greet his mother and sisters who had joined at the commotion.

“I’d like you guys to formally meet in person, guys this is my girlfriend, Kayla Matthews. Kayla, this is my mom, Jodie, and these are my sisters Brooke and Mack.” He said. He placed his hand on his girlfriend's bump, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her head. “And this thing, this is your niece and granddaughter, who is still very happily cooking for a few more months. Lillia Jo Starkey.” Hugs were exchanged, Brooke making a joke that baby Starkey was already a strong kicker.

“You should feel her at night, she doesn’t like me pressed up against her mom. Kay says it’s because I’m too warm.” Drew said.

“You are. A fucking furnace, I swear.” Kayla defended herself. “I didn’t feel flutters with Asher until almost 18 weeks. I felt movement with her the day we told y’all. According to the doctor she’s already got her dads fuckin spaghetti noodle legs.”

Drew would always remember that thanksgiving because it was the first one they’d spent with both of their families. It was also the one where he asked her to be his wife. It didn’t matter to him that they’d only been officially together for five months, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and thankfully, she agreed. They’d decided to put the wedding off until Lillia was born, but he was happy knowing she was going to his forever.

A squeal and gummy grin showing him the three teeth on the bottom of his seven month old daughter’s mouth had Drew grinning like an idiot as he finished fixing his bow tie. Leaning down, he scooped her out of the pack and play situated in the corner of his teenage bedroom and placed a kiss on her chubby cheek trying to smooth the lacy white dress she was wearing.

“You look so pretty, Lil” he murmured. “Just like your mommy. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well you better start believing it.” His sister, Brooke’s voice said from the doorway she was dressed in a dark blue lace dress, smiling at her brother. “I’ve been sent to retrieve the flower girl.”

“I think our flower girl needs a fresh diaper before you take her away.” He said. “Give me two minutes.”

Soon, he was holding his fiancée’s hands as they vowed themselves to each other, both grinning like idiots as they were introduced as Mr & Mrs Joseph Drew Starkey.

—

“Should we tell them?” He murmured in his wife’s ear as they danced around the dance floor.

“Well they might like to know.” She confirmed. “Your mother will be happy to know she’s only a three hour drive from her grandchildren now.”

They’d moved into their rental house in Charleston last week, where they’d be for the next year at least while Drew filmed a new show called Outer Banks for Netflix. He was playing a main character, which was a huge opportunity for him. Kayla had even gotten on doing wardrobe for the show, and the producer director was already smitten with both Lilly and Asher.

“Yeah, we should tell them.” He confirmed.

After speeches were completed, they both stood up in front of everyone. Drew laced his hand with his wife’s and gave it a small squeeze.

“We have something we would like to share with you all.” He announced.

“And no, it is not another baby.” Kayla joked. “We aren’t looking for three under three.”

“No.” He confirmed. “Kayla and I would like to announce that we are no longer living in Atlanta. As of last week, we are officially living in Charleston, South Carolina due to having to relocate for one of my roles. I have accepted the offer to play a main character in a Netflix show coming out sometime in 2020.”

“This is a very welcome relocation because we are a lot closer to family now, and we can’t wait to be able to see them more often.” Kayla said. “I know my mom and Jodi really enjoy their grandchildren and hopefully they get to spend more time with them after this.”

Now, Drew was sat on cold metal bleachers with a lukewarm cup of coffee between his hands. Charleston was unusually cold for the early October Saturday morning. Beside him, his wife sat with a cup of hot tea in her hands, bundled up with his hoodie tucked under her coat, hiding the barelynther swell of her abdomen that was the only clue to the world that they were expecting a third child, their second together. His mom was back at their house with Lilly, who had a cold.

Tiny almost five year old Asher was on the soccer field in front of them, playing his little heart out despite the harsh weather. He enjoyed the sport, and Drew had yet to miss a game. Drew enjoyed watching his stepson play, ready for every “Drew did you see me?” afterwards.

Despite the fact that he’d done most of the father role in the raising his stepson, Asher still called him Drew, or at least he had since he was one and a half and Jason threw a fit when he heard Asher call Drew “Dada” when he dropped him off after one of the like three times a year, so Asher started calling him Drew again. They’d had to have the conversation with Lilly, who had asked her father innocently while he got her ready for bed.

“Daddy, why does Bubby call you Drew when I call you daddy?” Her voice was soft, like she was scared to ask.

“Well, Princess.” Drew sighed. “Asher has another daddy and that daddy doesn’t want him to call me daddy. His other daddy was with Mama before we fell in love.”

“Oh.” She said. “Okay. Good night Daddy.”

“Good night Lillia.” He leaned down to press his lips against her head. “I love you.”

Out on the field, there was a flurry of arms and legs before a whistle and wail that Drew knew anywhere. He immediately handed his wife his coffee cup before getting up and making his way off the bleachers. He knew Asher was hurt, but nothing prepared for him to physically see the break in his arm as he walked up. One of the coaches was already on the phone with 9-1-1, while another was trying to soothe the boy in tears.

“Don’t touch me!” Asher cried, tears streaming down his face. Drew’s heart clenched as he walked closer. “I want my daddy.” If Drew’s heart wasn’t hurting yet, it was now. It took him the last ten or so steps to the boy to realize that he’d meant him.

“Hey bud.” Drew crouched so he was next to him. “Daddy’s right here, Ash, Daddy’s right here.”

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#outer banks #obx #drew starkey #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurb

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heavenbarnes · 4 years

Text

feels so good to be us

Fezco (Euphoria) x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: mentions of drug use, mentions of guns, implied violence (all canon-typical), swearing, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex (this is fiction, yours isn’t, wrap it), dirty talk, light degradation, light choking, rough sex, light slapping, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 4.5k

no secret that i fell in love w the guy whilst watching the show, so we’ll just see how this goes

She blew into town one day, seemingly out of nowhere, but not without purpose. Having reasons to be there was one thing, having reasons to stay was a whole other. Lacking in the latter, there was a lot to be grateful for in that one night.

The party that cracked on in a reasonable house, she was told by her friends that’d it’d be a good one. What she wasn’t told was that this was a party that was teeming with teenagers, horny ones in spandex and rhinestones.

A long way from home and everything was different.

Lucky enough, she poured herself a cup and hunted for a spot that was more around her age. Last thing she needed was to be caught up with a hoard of 17 year-olds looking to make trouble.

Whoever owned this house also came equipped with cash, judging by the indoor pool she stepped into, eyes up and trailing along the carefully carved architrave. Eyes far too transfixed to notice the young man on the lounger.

“You came looking for me?”

The voice made her head snap towards his direction, rolled smoke resting between his lips and steadily fingering a roll of cash. Narrowing her eyes at him in hesitation, she traced her finger around the rim of her cup.

“I don’t think so?”

He took his eyes from his counting and let them cast over her, that’s probably the first thing to pique her interest. Those kind of eyes you could fall into, pretty eyelashes too that almost made her want to smile.

She knew that he knew she was staring, but he hadn’t said anything about it, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You not from around here, huh?”

Straightening up and stepping forward a bit, she got closer so she didn’t have to shout across the room.

“No sir, I drove in this morning from out East.”

He nodded more to himself than he did her, tucking the money away in his hoodie pocket before leaning back on the cushion of the lounger. He took the cigarette between his fingers and tapped off some of the ash, eyes still nonchalantly drifting over her.

“Called it, I would’a remembered you otherwise.”

In trying not to let the corners of her mouth turn into a smile, it transformed into more of a pout, bordering on a frown. There was something about this guy, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“You would’ve?”

“Yeah, cause you wearing clothes,” He answered, making any expression on her face dry out. “You seen those other girls?”

Looking down her front, she had to admit that her belted trousers and high-necked tank was considerably more than what any of the high-schoolers were wearing. Shrugging her shoulders with a nod that spoke of “fair enough”, she managed to draw a chuckle out of the guy.

“That and you cute.” The inflection was so cool she almost missed it, but that wasn’t to say it was lost on her.

Scuffing her sneakers against the poolside tile, he shifted forward along his seat and watched intently at the way she no longer fought the grin on her face. Didn’t know the guy from Adam, but he was already tweaking some kind of feeling in her.

“Who you here with?”

She lifted her head and gestured back towards where the noise of the party was drifting through the door. “My friends Ocasio and Seraphine, made me come to make friends but they didn’t say they’d be teenagers.”

He nodded knowingly, muttering something about knowing them too. “They all so young, why I’m only here for business.”

So the inkling in the back of her mind that he was a drug dealer was correct, making his first comment make a lot more sense. In an attempt not to seem like a total fucking loser, she shifted the conversation.

“They said I should look for some guy, said that I’d probably like him.”

The man lifted a brow, before throwing his gaze over her shoulder in his turn to admire the architecture.

“Yeah? They give you a name, not a lot of people I don’t know.”

She thought on it for a moment, she knew it reminded her of That 70′s Show, and that is sounded remarkably fake at the time.

“Fezco, I think? If that’s even a real name?”

His shoulders bounced as he chuckled a little, eyes moving back to her own. He had one of those stares where it was intense, but there was nothing in you that wanted to look away.

“Nice to meet you too, mamas,” He lent back again and propped his foot up on the seat. “Do I get your name?”

In attempting to avoid looking like a fucking loser, she’d managed it anyways. Her cheeks burnt as she nodded with a nervous laugh, smiling out of necessity before offering him her name.

He made some remark about her still being cute, before they were cut off by a couple of young people tripping down the stairs and narrowly avoiding the pool. They made a line for Fezco, hoping to make a purchase off of him.

She couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, in the move of things she started to step back to where she came. An obvious cast of disappointment fell over her as she began to pull back from it all.

“Mamas,” That voice stopped her in her tracks. “Just lemme do this, I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

Just like that, she’d found a reason to stay. From that point on, you didn’t see her without Fezco by her side, with a hand on her lower back.

They were polar opposites, but MC. Kat said those attract so that could be said for why they’d done so well together. She was warm, kind, and so gentle it’d make your heart do fucking flips.

She was the softest thing that Fez had ever got his hands on, and he’d be damned if he was ever going to let it go. He was open with her, showed her all the bad things that he did and he’d done, and she chose to love him anyway.

If you asked Fezco, she felt like home, she was safe to come back to after a long day of doing things he wasn’t proud of. No matter how many times he made shitty choice after shitty choice, she knew the heart that rested in him was inherently better than anything.

Nothing made that heart fuller than seeing her own coming through, you want to talk big hearts? You start with her. She was the very definition of love, patient and kind, and it wasn’t uncommon for Fez to pinch himself in wonder of how he got so lucky.

The days she sat beside his grandma, holding her up as he brought the sponge along her back. Never a complaint, she’d just smile at Fezco, at the gentleness of his movements. The smile that said “I’d never want to be anywhere else.”

And if his boys were on their way around to fetch payment, nothing had to be said. She’d quietly tuck away in the bedroom, laying in silence as she daydreamed of a life where Fez was totally happy. In her visions they live in the countryside, he never has to look over his shoulder and he is forgiven.

She was always the delicate to his rough around the edges, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know exactly what was happening. You couldn’t mistake her kindness for stupidity.

“Mans, I don’t think you know what you getting into.” Fezco’s voice never shifted from that calm tone.

Nate Jacob’s shit eating grin made the hairs on the back of Fez’ neck stand up, the kid using his height to try and forge an ounce of intimidation. Unlucky for him, the man in front of him wasn’t a 17 year old cheerleader with daddy issues, he couldn’t scare him.

Nate would still give it his best shot.

“You obviously don’t know what you’re doing with me, I will fucking ruin you.” His bark through gritted teeth drifted up the hallway.

“You came to my house, ‘tryna start shit with me,” Fez never backed down, nearly chest to chest. “I never gave a fuck about you.”

The sound that came from Nate was a scoff, the disrespect was evident as he looked down on the other man. “So you’ve forgotten how you threatened my life?”

As he lifted his hand up towards Fez’ throat, he wasn’t able to clock her on his right quick enough.

She calmly padded down the hallway, shorts and her boyfriend’s hoodie draped across her body as she approached the scene before her. Left hand coming to lift the hem of the sweater and right coming to grip the glock stashed in her waistband.

By the time Nate Jacobs even knew she was there, he could already hear the safety coming off. His hand stilled as his eyes drifted over to her.

“Take another step, playboy.” Eyes staring down the slide and right at the guy in her sights. “Pick up your nuts, and get out of my house.”

Nate looked back to Fez, meeting an almost unfazed expression. His eyes came over to her and the barrel aimed between his eyes.

“The cops coming here didn’t teach you a lesson? You want them coming back here looking for guns too?”

Her laugh rolled around the room, drifting between the three of them as her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, go ahead and call the cops again,” Her grip on the pistol never faltered. “I’m sure Fezco’s boys would love to hear about the little bitch that had the pigs sniffing around their supply.”

There was no missing the way Nate’s jaw clenched at the sentiment, the thought ticking over in his head that he might’ve finally met his match. The match that he’d tried to chat up in the convenience store, right in front of Fez with his own girl in the car.

“Everyone knows your name, Jacobs,” Fez wasn’t the only one he couldn’t scare. “Would hate for it to be dropped around the wrong people.”

The quarterback brought his arm down from her boyfriend’s neck, turning to face her with the gun only following his movements. Fezco stepped off him, making his way over to his girl.

He stood behind her, chest to her back as his hands rested against her waist. Lips moments from her neck as his eyes trained back on the teenager trying to raise hell in his own living room.

“Is that a threat?” The sour expression on Nate’s face was nothing short of unattractive. She didn’t know a lot about Maddie Perez, but she knew the girl could do better.

“No, it’s a fucking warning,” In an instant the gun was turned on it’s side. “I won’t say it again, get out of my house, before I fucking kill you.”

It didn’t take much more before Nate was dragging his knuckles out of the house, door slamming behind him. At that sound, she had the safety back down and was placing the gun in Fez’ hands.

He chuckled, turning her towards him with that same grip on her hips. His hands came back to put the gun in the band of his drawers, before he was shifting to cup her face. Fezco could feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks.

“Do I even ‘gotta tell you how fine you look waving my piece round like that?”

She matched his laugh, heart still beating wildly in her chest. Shaking her head, her lips came to Fezco’s, feeling the plush of his lips moving in time with hers. “I will definitely leave that up to you.”

“But you looked so good handling it, mamas.”

Brushing off his comment, she gripped his hand and lead him up to the bedroom, muttering something about him looking even better.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Fez stood in front of her, looking down at the woman who’d kill for him. He knew he’d found his absolute other half, there was no doubt about that.

He lifted the glock to her face, trailing the muzzle along her cheek before she turned her head gently and gave it a sweet kiss. He shook his head, leaning down to tuck it under their mattress.

Kneeling down before her, parting her knees so he could nestle in there, his face was so close to her own that she could feel the heat in his breath.

“You mean everything, baby, I fucking love you.”

That was what it was all about, the perfect balance that existed between them. Whilst Fezco might’ve been the guts, and she was the glory, there was no doubt that they’d always be what each other needed.

The first time in a while that Fez had felt was able to be vulnerable, was the moment he sunk into her arms after a grim night. She didn’t ask any questions, just wrapped him up in her and reassured him that she felt nothing but adoration for him.

On his part, he’d found paradise in a girl that was sweeter than an angel, but was always down to let him fuck her like a whore.

She wasn’t really down for a Halloween party, but she was always down to dress pretty and be on the arm of her man in the cleanest suit. Platform heels and a flowery mini dress, it was the godfather and the hippie, sat outside by the pool as the smoke from Fez’ blunt cast a cloud around them.

Thoughts drifted back to the moment they met, looking an awful lot like this.

Teenagers dipped in and out of the house to buy off her boyfriend, she just sat back with her legs up in his lap, feeling his fingers rubbing against her calf every now and then.

She said hello to the girls as they drifted past, but nothing felt better than when it was just the both of them, enjoying each other’s company as those under the influence stumbled around them.

Fezco let his hand drift slightly higher up her shin, calloused fingers coming to trace along the curve of her knee. She watched the movements of his touch, not ignoring the way her skin prickled underneath the graze of his nails.

Taking the blunt from his mouth, he turned to look at her fondly, hazy smile when he found her already looking back at him.

“This your song, mamas,” He referred to the Jack Harlow joint that was coming through the speakers. “You ‘gone dance for me like you do at home?”

She smirked, lifting her legs out of his lap and stepping out in front of him. “Depends if you’ve got the money to throw.”

Slowly spinning around for him, her hips swayed in a motion that he followed intently, catching onto the way her dress lifted with each movement.

“You trippin’ if you think ‘imma pay for what’s mine.”

Stopping the swing of her hips, she moved in closer to where Fezco sat with his legs spread wide. Moving between those legs, she bent over over and braced a hand on each of his knees.

“What are you tryna’ do, big man?”

Fez lent forward in his seat, lips coming to gently press to her own before he spoke in a hushed tone, better to keep his private moves private from the kids swirling around the both of them.

“I’m tryna’ blow your fucking back out.”

One thing could be said for Fezco, the man could keep his word. The minute he got her into the bedroom, large hands splayed across her hips and gripped tight enough to leave a mark.

Lips ran up the column of her throat, the graze of teeth left in the wake of his movements. Heady moans slipped off her tongue and filled the small room, coaxing Fez to move a little quicker.

His girl was getting impatient and he was never one to keep her waiting.

Turning her in his hands, he still had a mean grip on her waist as he moved her knees to perch on the edge of the bed. One large hand spread in the center of her shoulder blades as he pushed her chest down onto the mattress.

“Be a good girl and arch your back for me.”

Stomach dropping down and hips rolling back, she shook her ass for him as Fezco shifted up the hem of her dress, revealing the pretty lace she wore just for him. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them further apart till she got even lower.

One hand came back to slap the cheek of her ass, a sorry moan ripping from her chest as he massaged over the spot. Feeling the way his thumb traveled down the line of her underwear, grazing over where she was wettest for him.

Hooking around the band of the thin panties, Fez slipped them down her legs, sucking in a breath seeing how wet she’d been for him this whole time. She shook her hips, presenting herself to him like a meal he’d been waiting to be served.

“What got you so fuckin’ needy? Or you just always begging for it?” His voice rumbled through his chest, hitting her straight between the thighs.

“It’s always you, I just need you to fuck me.”

Two thick fingers dragged up her slit as she rolled her hips back for him, eager to catch anything that felt like pleasure. This teasing was nearly killing her, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to make her work for it.

“You ‘sposed to be a good girl but you lost your manners.”

Whining out, not caring how pathetic it must’ve sounded to him, she shook her ass again. Doing whatever she could to draw him and make him give it to her like she needed.

“Please, Fezco, I fucking need you.”

The sound of his belt coming loose was like music to her ears as his thumb gently dipped into her wetness. So close to getting what she wanted, he was never good at keeping anything from her. Especially not when she looked this pretty.

She felt him run the blunt head of his cock through her wetness, resting at her entrance for a moment. Tiny cries and whimpers still fell steadily from her pouted lips, Fezco sliding his hand down her back until his fingers fixed around the back of her neck.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy,” With one thrust he filled her straight up. “I never felt anything like you, baby.”

Her cheek pressed against the mattress with his grip, filthy moans drifting through the air as she felt Fezco wrecking her. His other hand still gripped tight at her hip, pulling her back onto him with every thrust.

It was never better than when it was this nasty, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as he fucked her dumb, the only thing on her mind was his name as she sang it back to him.

He loved the sound of her crying out for him, pussy clenching impossibly tight around him. Fez knew every spot within her, exactly what to do to make her come apart under his hands.

“You so fuckin’ tight, mamas,” He gritted his teeth as his hand slid from her neck to grip her shoulder. “Tryna’ make me buss’ quick.”

A filthy giggle rolled straight off her tongue, before it turned right back into another cry as Fezco hit that spot just right. The hand on her hip slipped under and before she knew it, her eyes were rolling back as his fingers moved quick against her clit.

He nearly ripped a scream from her, moving his hand back to slap her pussy, before rubbing that same spot. He was going to be the death of her one day, the way he always knew exactly what he was doing.

“Baby- I’m ‘gonna- I’m ‘gonna,” Her words dropped off as she moaned for him under the pressure of it all.

“You good, ‘lemme hear it.”

Clenching like a vice around him, her whole body tensed up as the white hot feeling of her orgasm rolled over her. There was no doubt the neighbors would know about it, the way he never let up on her, had her crying out off the top of her lungs.

Fezco dipped his hand under her throat, fingers lightly fixing around it as he pulled her up to kneel. Falling back against his chest as he kept fucking her through it, her hand came back to grip his thigh.

She knew he was near his end, his hips were stuttering and the way he was groaning in her ear, she knew she had him good. Turning her head, her nose brushed against his face so her lips were moments from his skin.

“Come in me, please, baby.”

That was all it took, his arm flying around her waist as he gripped her hard to him. Hips stilling deep inside her as he filled her up, a vulgar cry from her as she felt him hot and running in her. Sliding his hand down her chest, he crossed his arms against her, nuzzling down into her neck.

“Maybe you are a good girl, huh?”

There was no doubt that she wasn’t just good, she was the best. Who else was going to sit patiently with their feet in Fezco’s lap as he counted his money and chewed through a pack of cigarettes.

Couldn’t find another girl that’d stand by his side at the town carnival, looking just as sweet as the cotton candy she was placing on her tongue as locals came asking around for their friend Molly.

Hot summer days outside the convenience store, popsicle between her lips as her sundress flutters gently in the breeze. Fezco ready to round up anyone that stared just a little too long.

Maybe it was all that candy that went past her lips, but there was never anyone who acted, or tasted that sweet.

Hearing the door shut, her mouth naturally curved into a smile. He was home, meaning he was safe, meaning she was safe and content. Fezco rounded the couch to where she sat, one arm braced behind her on the cushion as he lent down to kiss her.

Hands naturally coming to cup his chin, she felt the scratch of his beard in her palms as his mouth moved gently against her own. His shoulders dipped with a sigh, one that told her he was just as happy to be home as she was to have him.

“You seem so tired,” She cooed as she separated their lips. “Let me take care of you.”

Her hand trailed down the front of his sweater, coming to rest on his belt. Fezco pressed her hand down, against his crotch, bringing their lips back together. As she moved her other hand to start undoing his belt, he squeezed her hands to stop them.

Placing a hand on either side of her thighs, he dropped to kneel in front of her, before wrapping his hands around her knees and parting them. Fez lifted each of her legs and draped them over his shoulders.

Rough hands pushed the bottom of his hoodie, that was currently covering her, up her body and exposing her scantily clad lower half. Shallow breaths came from her as he dragged her panties down her legs, shifting her hips closer to the edge of the couch.

“This the only place I wanna’ be right now, angel.”

Her breath came across as choppy as she relaxed back into the couch, feeling big hands grip the the skin of her thighs. Fez’ head moved between her legs, pressing a kiss straight to her slit.

Hands coming to hold his head, thumbs massaging against the skin as her hips rolled forward toward his mouth. Darting his tongue out, he drew it up and along her until it came into contact with her clit.

Drawing his tongue around the nub, he felt her legs tense up against his shoulders. Fezco’s hands gently rubbed at her legs, feeling her relax once again into him.

The soft little whimpers that only she could make fueled him like nothing else, dragging his tongue quicker in an attempt to draw any sounds out of her. Her hips bucked up with the sensation of his tongue, pulling his face in closer.

“God, Fezco, you always make me feel so good.”

Humming in response, the sensation moved through her from between her thighs and deep into her. The feeling of the tip of his tongue against her clit made her toes curl up, feet running along the length of his back.

Fez wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking the sensitive nerves and making her call out his name. Her chest rose, arching her back off the couch as her thighs tensed around his head.

He never let up, just continued the assault on her clit as she writhed beneath his grasp. Fez couldn’t get enough of this feeling, having her wrapped around him and completely falling apart in his hands.

She couldn’t believe how lucky she got, having a man that walked straight through the doors and got on his knees for her. There was never a moment where Fez didn’t have her feeling like she was in the clouds.

Her whole body burnt hot as his tongue dipped into her, before dragging back up. Eyes falling shut and fingernails running down the back of her head, every time he moaned at the feeling it hit her straight where she needed it.

“You’re ‘gonna make me come, please don’t stop.”

Fezco’s eyes flickered up to her, watching the way her whole body moved for him and her head kept falling back in pleasure. To have her reacting so strongly to him, he hoped she couldn’t see the way his cheeks were starting to burn.

“Go ‘head baby, come for me.”

The high-pitch of her whine pierced the air as her hips stuttered against his mouth. She felt her body relax, the feeling of pleasure consuming her entirely as Fez let her ride his face out of her high.

As she came back down to Earth, he came back up to her, hand wiping down his beard and watching the glow of her face. Lazy smile across her face as she reached out for him, going back to his belt.

“You going to let me take care of you now?”

One day they’d roll out of this town together, find their peace and spend their time looking forward without a care. Until then they found peace in each other, holding one another close.

More than anything, they’d found hope in each other? That this wouldn’t be forever, that you could find forgiveness in whatever you’d done.

Whenever there was a doubt, she just echoed those words back to him with a smile, the ones that she’d never forgotten.

“I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

#fezco smut #fezco x reader #fezco x female reader #fez smut #fez x reader #fez x female reader #euphoria smut #euphoria imagine #fezco imagine #fez imagine

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Note

Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️

Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.

FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.

“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.

“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”

Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”

Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.

It was different.

It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.

Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.

It was all very civilized.

And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.

“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.

“Might be a little old for you, champ.”

Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.

“Other end of the bar!”

Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.

“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?

“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”

Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.

Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.

Not with Nesta Archeron.

Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.

This would be fun to watch.

Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.

Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.

He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.

After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.

Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.

Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.

Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.

She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.

Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.

After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.

Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.

Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.

She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.

“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”

Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.

“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”

Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”

Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”

“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.

“What’d you say to him?”

Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”

Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.

“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.

“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”

“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”

“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”

Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”

“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.

Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”

Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”

“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”

“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”

“So, the Suncurser merger.”

Nesta looked up. “How did you-”

“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”

“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“

“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”

“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.

Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”

Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”

Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”

***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***

Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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hangovercurse · 4 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

You bring Colson to your hometown for the first time.

Request: “Can you write a Colson imagine where you take him back to your hometown to meet your family and friends and he’s nervous everyone will hate him but everyone ends up loving him? And maybe include a run in with some girls from high school that are jealous 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I try to be as inclusive as possible in my fics but its hard when writing about families in this capacity, so I just went with the most generic family model possible. Also, my family is very unusual so I don’t really know how families interact… oop

Word Count: 2979

“Will you stop freaking out, you’re making me nervous.” You placed a soft hand on the shaking leg of your boyfriend. “And they’re my family.”

He let out a sigh, the shaking stopping momentarily as he pulled you as close to him as possible in the back of your Uber. “What if your parents hate me?”

Taking a deep breath, you assured him again, “my parents are not going to hate you. We’ve been over this; they’re going to love you.”

“Your dad is going to take one look at me and punch me in the face.” Colson said, a pout on his face.

You let out a chuckle, “he is not. And even if he does, you can take a punch.”

Despite your laughter, Colson remained stoic, “I’m serious Y/N, dads hate me. I look like everything you’d want your daughter to avoid.”

A sigh left your lips at his admittance of insecurity. “Babe listen to me, please. My parents are going to love you because I love you. And if they don’t then tough shit because you’re not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but you could still see the worry behind his eyes. “I just really want them to like me. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

You smiled at the comment, heart fluttering. “I’m in love with you.”

He looked at you deeply, a smile falling onto his lips, “and I’m in love with you, princess.” His lips pressed a small kiss against the crown of your head and rested there until the car pulled up to your childhood home. You felt your boyfriend tense up beside you, so you reached for his arm that was around your middle, rubbing soft shapes through the sleeves.

“I’m gonna be right next to you the whole night.” You told him as you moved to open the door, breathing in the refreshing air. LA was lovely, but it was nice to be able to breathe properly in your hometown.

Colson grabbed your bags out of the trunk, even though you insisted you could help. “Go say hi to your family, babe. I got it.”

You pressed a small kiss to his cheek, whispering a small “see you inside” before rushing to the familiar front door. Years of memories lie beyond its wood, memories you were excited to relive.

Knowing your family would keep it unlocked for you, you turned the knob and pushed the door open. The smell of your family’s cooking filled your nose, and immediately members of your family found you.

“Y/N!” Your younger cousins screamed, racing over to you to hug you. The last time you’d seen them they were 5 and 7, now they were 8 and 10.

“You guys have gotten so big! Did you drink some sort of magic potion or something?” You asked, a smile on your face.

Your mom had told you that she and your father would be cooking, but you didn’t think they’d invited your entire family. Although, you should have assumed they would given how close your family was.

Once your cousins let go of you, you turned around to see Colson waving off the Uber driver and making his way to the door. You turned to your younger cousins once he got close enough for them to see him. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Colson.” They gave small waves as you introduced them to Colson, who gave them a big smile.

“C’mon, babe. I’ll show you to our room.” You grabbed one of the bags from his hand, much to his dismay, and led him through the house. After you had moved to LA, your parents had turned your bedroom into the guest room, but some of the decorations from your younger years had remained on the walls.

Colson looked around the room, smiling as he thought of younger you growing up in here. “Is this a Bowie vinyl?” He asked, motioning to the vinyl record on the wall as he set your bags onto the bed.

You nodded, smiling wide. “Yep, got it for my 15th birthday. Signed and everything.” Your boyfriend nodded in appreciation as his eyes moved around the room. You wrapped your arms around his middle, cuddling into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest from how nervous he was. “You’re not gonna freak out and run off on me, are you?” You asked, a light humor in your voice.

Colson let out a dry chuckle, “no, I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, squeezing you closer to him. “But what if we just stayed in here forever?”

You slapped his chest playfully, “c’mon loser, you’re coming to meet my family whether you like it or not.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted with his free hand, making you giggle.

You made your way into the kitchen where your mom was standing with your aunts and sister. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, “you made it!” She came over and gave you a tight hug, “How was the flight?” She asked.

“It was fine, we slept most of the way.” You smiled before turning to Colson. “Mom, this is Colson, you’ve met him over facetime a couple times now, remember?”

She smiled moving to pull him into a hug. He had a shocked look on his face but reciprocated the hug. You mouthed “sorry” to him, giggling silently. He just smiled and shook his head, letting you know he was okay.

“Of course, I remember! She talks about you all the time.” You blushed as Colson smiled proudly. “You’re much taller in person.” Your mom noted, making you and Colson chuckle.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Your sister cleared her throat, grabbing your attention, “right! Colson, this is my sister and my aunts.”

They each introduced themselves politely. You told them you were going to go outside to find your dad and brothers. Before you left your sister pulled you to the side and whispered in your ear, “okay, I knew LA was full of hot guys, but how’d you manage to pull that?”

You laughed out loud, “Y/S/N! That’s so mean!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She laughed, but then whispered again, “but seriously, god damn.”

You rolled your eyes, “next time I’ll bring you one back.” She giggled, nodding in encouragement.

You took Colson’s hand, ignoring his quizzical look, and led him to your backyard. “That wasn’t too bad, right?” You checked in on him.

He sighed, “no, but moms are never bad. If moms don’t like you, they’ll say it in secret. Dads will say it to your face.”

“My mom loved you, and so will my dad. Just trust me.” You smiled, squeezing his hand.

You found your dad sitting on a lawn chair with your grandparents. Your brothers were throwing a football around with some of your older cousins and uncles. You greeted the three in lawn chairs, your dad standing up to give you a hug.

“Hey, Y/N/N. How are you?” Your dad asked.

“I’m good! Glad to be home!” You smiled.

Your grandpa grunted, “you should never leave, then.”

You chuckled, leaning down to give both him and your grandma hugs. “You’ll be so sick of me in three days, you’ll be begging me to leave.”

Once you stood up straight, you motioned to Colson, “This is my boyfriend, Colson. You’ve kind of met him before, Dad.”

Your dad reached out his arm for Colson to shake, earning him a strong nod. “Strong grip. I like him.” Your dad looked towards you. You could tell he didn’t remember meeting Colson on facetime, but you hadn’t expected him to.

“Grandpa, you’ll like this. Colson knows all four members of Motley Crue.” You smiled, winking at your boyfriend.

The older man looked impressed, “really? I was a roadie on the Theatre of Pain tour.”

Colson nodded, a smile on his face. “I played Tommy Lee in their biopic and then, uh, we recorded a song together.” You grinned proudly as the two talked about their experiences with the band.

Your dad put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you lightly, “You happy?” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “yeah. He’s a good guy, trust me.”

Your dad nodded, “oh, I can tell. Just wanted to make sure.” You thanked him, watching your boyfriend interact with your family. “Now you gotta introduce him to your brothers.” He chuckled at your sigh.

“Do I have permission to punch them if they act like assholes?” You asked, only kind of joking.

Your dad pushed you towards the lawn, “I see nothing.” You smile, grabbing Colson’s hand and leading him away from your grandpa once they’d finished their conversation.

“Okay, so I knew you were freaking out about my parents, so I didn’t want to freak you out even more.” You started, causing a panic look to cross Colson’s face. “My brothers are…” you searched for the words, “assholes. But like, loveable assholes. But they’re probably gonna give you shit, but it’s out of love. But I have no problem hitting them if you want me to.” You smiled.

He raised an eyebrow, “normally I’d say that’s my job but I feel like it’d be easier for your family to forgive you than me.” You laughed, pulling him to the guys and introducing him.

It turns out, your brothers actually really liked Colson, which was somehow worse than them hating him. Because it meant that they stole him from you. When you went back inside to talk more with your mom, your brothers demanded Colson stay outside with them. He seemed happy, so you let him stay, excited that your family was taking to him so well.

An hour later, dinner was almost ready, so your brothers started to set up the folding tables outside, which Colson gladly helped with. You were helping your mom finish up the last of the food, watching your best friend and soulmate through the window with adoration. He was helping your younger cousin put the tablecloth on the table, the scene reminding you of the time Casie and him took you out for a picnic on your birthday. You couldn’t wait to bring her here.

“You chose a good one.” Your grandma commented from behind you, making you jump a little bit. Once you registered her words, you blushed, mumbling out a thank you. “I can tell he really loves you. A granny can always tell.”

You smiled, “I really love him, too.” You turned back to check on him, catching his eye. He sent you a bright grin, making your grandma pat you on the shoulder before walking back to your mom to help her.

The rest of the night was magical, Colson by your side the entire time. Eventually most of your family left, leaving you and Colson to go to bed. You cuddled into his side, a smile on both of your faces. “They all love you, y’know?”

He hummed in response, squeezing your waist. “I love you.”

You chuckled, “you’re so fucking cheesy.”

The next day you were determined to take Colson on a tour of your town, starting with the skate park you spent almost every day at in high school. “We would’ve been best friends when we were kids.” He said as you dragged him through the park.

“We’re best friends now.” You chuckled, pausing to press a kiss to his lips.

He hummed, “I think we’re a little more than best friends but okay.” You rolled your eyes, pulling him further into the park until you spotted a familiar face.

“Little Benny?” You asked, your face lighting up. The younger guy’s eyes widened, running up to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, pulling you in for a hug.

You chuckled, “You were like, 12 the last time I saw you, what the hell?”

The man laughed along with you, “well you were the one who ran off to LA miss big-time producer.”

You smiled, realizing he had probably checked up on you. Benny was about 7 years younger than you and had looked up to you almost his whole life. Seeing him so grown up was a strange experience for you.

You noticed him glancing to Colson, his eyes going wide. “You’re-“

You laughed, “Benny this is Colson, my boyfriend. Also known as-“

“Machine Gun Kelly!” The younger boy exclaimed, making Colson chuckle.

He reached out his hand, which Benny gladly shook, “nice to meet you, man.”

“Kells, this is Benny, my friend from high school. I taught him how to skate.”

“More like your protégé.” A female voice said. Behind Benny came Deanie, another girl his age you had taught. Benny’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him.

You smiled at the two, knowing Benny had liked her since he was in middle school. “Hi Deanie.” You said, the girl smiling back at you. “This is Colson, my boyfriend.”

“Are you gonna skate?” She asked, eyes going wide.

You sighed, shaking your head, “sorry, guys. Maybe later, I’m just showing Colson around the town right now.”

Deanie and Benny both pouted, “damn, she goes off to Hollywood and forgets all about us.” Benny joked, making you all laugh.

You grabbed Colson’s hand, “We’ll see you guys later!” You waved, pulling the man away from the couple.

“It was nice to meet you!” He said, making you smile. “You seriously taught him how to skate?”

You nodded as you continued your trek to the diner you used to work at. “Yep, I taught most of the kids how to skate, although I guess they’re all his age now.”

Colson grinned, “so you’re, like, a legend here.” He commented, but you shook your head, laughing.

“No, I was a loser.”

“Not to those two, you’re not.” He said, swinging your intertwined hands. You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything further.

You finally arrived at the small diner you used to work at. About 50 feet away from the door, Colson’s phone buzzed. “Shit, Slim’s calling.”

“Take it, I’ll grab a table and you can meet me inside.” He smiled thankfully, answering the call as you walked inside.

You immediately spotted Wesley, the cook you’d known since you were 16, through the order window. The smell of the diner was familiar, and for a moment you felt like you were walking in for a shift. You leaned against the bar, “Hey, Wes!” You called, drawing the cook’s eye.

“Little miss Y/N! Is that really you?” You smiled at the old man.

“It sure is! How’s the diner?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You giggled at his response. Wes had opened the diner in the 90’s and swore he’d burn with the building.

You grabbed a booth in the corner, just in case there happened to be any peering eyes in your small town.

Unfortunately, your table was in Liza’s section, a girl who’d hated you since you were kids. You found it quite funny that she was still working at the diner after all this time, silently thankful that you’d gotten out of the town.

She scowled when she saw you but walked over anyways. “What happened? Strike out in Hollywood and now you’re back here trying to get your job back?”

Her voice was just as annoying as it had always been. “Or did your rich sugar daddy dump your ass and now you’re home begging for money?”

You wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk off her face, but you refrained. “Actually-“ You started, but you got cut off by your boyfriend.

“You have a sugar daddy and didn’t tell me about it? Babe I would’ve helped you scam him for so much more.” He smiled, sitting across from you, and grabbing your hand that was resting on the table.

Upon realizing who was sitting across from you, Liza stiffened. “You’re-“

“Y/N’s boyfriend, nice to meet you.” He smiled, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Machine Gun Kelly!” Liza said, her squeaky voice making you cringe.

“I prefer Colson, but yeah.” He sighed, looking back over to see your annoyed expression.

Liza looked between the two of you, a look at disgust on her face. “Seriously? Why the hell are you going out with her? You could do so much better.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock at her blunt rudeness. Colson’s jaw clenched as he spoke, “what, like you?”

The girl shrugged, not catching the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. “I’m just saying, I don’t know what she’s told you but she’s a talentless bitch whose probably only dating you for money or fame, or both.”

Luckily, Wes came out to the front of the house to greet Colson, stopping him from punching a girl in the middle of the restaurant. “Nice to meet you, man. I’m Wes, owner, cook, and the best boss Y/N has ever had.” Colson shook his hand, still glaring at Liza.

“Yep.” You agreed with the man. Your voice was soft to calm Colson down, which worked a little bit.

Colson shot the man a grin, “nice to meet you, Wes. Y/N talks about this place all the time.”

The look of pride on Wes’s face was unforgettable. “Well, if you two need anything, just let me know.”

Colson looked towards Liza, annoyance returning to his features, “do you think we could get a new waiter?”

You almost laughed seeing the look of shock on her features, but Wes happily obliged, handing your table over to a newer waitress. Liza had steam coming out of her ears, but you ignored her.

“Thank you.” You muttered. “She’s hated me since we were kids.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah I could tell. Couldn’t have her talking shit like that.” He squeezed your hand, “now, what’s good here?”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

Text

Can You Get Enough Of Me? - Michael Myers x Reader

"It's a nice day today, huh?" Y/N smiled up at the sky as she went back and forth in the swing. "Will you push me, Mickey?" "Sure." he shrugged as he got off his own swing and went behind her, pushing her the best he could. "Look, Mickey, I'm flying! Whooooo!" the little girl giggled without a care in the world, as Michael watched her long, beautiful hair going everywhere. "Okay, okay, I wanna swing too!" but before the girl could take her time and stop swinging, a bunch of older boys came by and roughly grabbed the chains holding the swing, which in turn, made the girl fall off and get hurt. "Y/N!" Michael gasped as he ran to her side, helping her up, and seeing the blood seeping from one of her legs and arm. "Aww, Myers's got a giiirlfriend! Look at them, gonna fuck? Girl, don'tcha know, Myers's a faggot?" the gang hollered maliciously, and Y/N could only frown, despite the tears of pain from her injuries, and clinging on Michael for support, she got up and yelled at the boys. "Leave Michael alone, jerks! You're rude!" but instead of trying to fight them off, or go in a brawl, she grabbed her friend's arm and dragged him away from there, knowing that if he were to get in trouble again, he'd get some bad detention, and that's the last thing she'd want. Besides...Two kids couldn't possibly fight those guys. "Why didn't you let me fight them?! I could've taken them on!" the blond boy glared at his friend, who only rolled her eyes and sighed at his childishness. "No, you couldn't. Besides, if the teachers find out you got in trouble again, who knows what will happen? Come on, let's go to the fountain, I have to wipe off the blood." Y/N muttered, going on ahead to sit on the rocks by the fountain and took out her handkerchief from her little bag, dipping it in the water and carefully wiping away the red liquid streaming down her limbs, hissing from the pain here and there, but otherwise, staying completely silent. "I'm sorry..." the girl suddenly heard the blond boy mutter, barely audible. "Huh? What do you have to be sorry about, Mickey?" as her eyes widened from the shock, she leaned forward, raising his chin up with her finger. "...I couldn't protect you. I suck. I'm as bad as that fuckass says I am..." he sighed, gently pulling away her hand and looking away from her. "Look at what they did to you. Could've been much worse. And yet, you stood up for me, while I did nothing. I'm a horrible friend." his voice was pitiful, and it was obvious he hated his lack of strength. "First of all, you aren't just my friend. You're my BEST friend. Okay? And nothing in this world will change that. Got it? Okay. Second of all, we're still little and weak. That's how kids are. Trying to fight those guys is like trying to fight the forces of nature...You...You can't fight a hurricane, you know? And...Violence isn't the answer. I mean...Look at our parents. There's nothing good coming out of that...But someday! Someday we'll get older and stronger, and nobody will bully us anymore! It just...It takes a while...I guess." she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to comfort him. "That's shit! They'll see, they'll ALL pay for it! Nobody will dare be fuckers with us anymore! And when I grow up, I will make sure everyone is nice to you." he was so revolted, but his anger gradually dissipated as he felt her warmth. "Please don't speak like that. Calm down, Mickey. Things are okay now. At least we have each other, and we will always have each other, don't forget that, okay?" she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a while, only to hear an aggressive male voice booming through the park which made the girl yelp and tremble in fear. "GET AWAY FROM THAT FREAK, Y/N! GET HERE RIGHT NOW!" her father yelled at her and she could only whimper silently, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. "B-But daddy, Michael is not bad...! H-He tried to protect me from those mean boys from the playground!" she spoke meekly, slowly walking in front of her father, her head hung in fear, only for the man to burry his hand in

her hair, pulling on it roughly, making the girl yelp in pain. "Don't talk back to me, you stupid little bitch! You have no right to go against what I say while you're under MY roof, got it? Home, now." Michael couldn't even retaliate in any way, knowing that if he were to cause trouble for her, she would get in even more trouble, and that's the last thing he'd want...But why did it have to be her...?

He can take it, alright...But her...That's just not acceptable. She is small, and weak, and frail, and innocent...And there is nobody who can protect her.

Nobody but him...

----

"Michael, Michael, are we going trick or treating today?" Y/N asked, skipping around him in her cutesy witch costume, while he was a boring clown. "I guess." he shrugged, pulling down his clown mask. "Come on, it's Halloween, Mickey! You love Halloween! It's your favourite holiday! And we get free candy! It's gonna be fuuun~!" she bumped him with her body, making him stumble a bit, before looking at her and groaning. "Fine, fine, we're going. I just have to tell my mum." he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his house, but on the way, she stopped him. "Hey, how about we trick or treat all the houses on the way to yours? I mean, there's nothing bad in that, right? We're just going home! It's not even considered a detour!" Y/N grinned widely, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement. "...Okay, let's do that." as he said that, Michael took out his candy bag from his schoolbag and taking her hand, they went to all house from both sides of the street. "Trick or Treat!" they both exclaimed as the first grandma opened the door with a loving look on her face. "Ahh, my, my, how cute you two are! And what do we have here...A very adorable, magical witch! And...A funny clown! How lovely!" the woman clapped her hands together to her chest, admiring the two kids. "Ma'am, he's not just a clown, he is my jester! Isn't he so cute?" she threw her arms around his neck, slamming his face to hers as she grinned even wider, making the woman laugh at them. "Yees, yes, I understand! Here, darlings, you're so adorable, take all of these. Hope to see you two, cuties, next year as well! Have fun!" the grandma patted both their heads before going back to her home. "Wiiicked! Look how much candy we've got! My fave holiday is Christmas, but honestly, Halloween is a very close runner up! Our teeth will literally rot after this!" the girl giggled as she inspected each variety of candy in her bag, "I love it 'cause I can spare people." Michael shrugged simply, but he also munched on some candy corn. "Would you scare me, Mickey?" Y/N turned her face to his, her eyes widening with a glimmering, innocent curiosity. "...No. I wouldn't. But you're the only one, okay?! Everyone else, I'd scare!" he tried to sound scary and dangerous, but it only made the little girl giggle and kiss his cheek. "You're my hero! My handsome knight in shining armour, Mickey! Thank you for protecting me. You're the best." help his soul, he wasn't used to people saying good things about him... "...But I'm ugly...That's why I wear a mask so often..." he muttered, looking down at the ground. "No! That's so not true! You're very pretty, okay? I love your face! And you have the most gorgeous eyes in the world! And...And...And your hair is so lovely, I'm jealous! Please don't say bad things about yourself, Mickey, it makes me very upset." she pouted, hugging him tightly, and it was pretty clear neither of them wanted to let go. "You won't leave me, would you, Y/N?" Michael's low voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was the only time he ever allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability. "Never. Some day, we will be together forever, okay?" she ruffled his hair playfully, which made his face flush softly. "Hey, actually...Here you go. This is yours now. This way, if you're ever lonely, you'll remember I'm always thinking of you, okay?" Y/N grinned sweetly at him as she took off her flower-charmed necklace and put in on him, hiding it under his costume, so nobody else could see it. "Mum gave this to me on my birthday, before she died. It means the world for me, and so do you. So...Don't forget that, okay? I hope you'd smile more, you have a very pretty smile." as she said that, she squished his chipmunk cheeks.

The boy said nothing - What was he supposed to do, anyway? He was overwhelmed entirely by the only person who makes him feel...Good? But he had to go home, and he already knew that home was hell, and by the time he went there, he knew he wouldn't actually be going trick or treating, as promised...And he'd have to let Y/N down again.

Stupid family.

With a very disappointed voice, he went outside of the house and told the girl that he can't go trick or treating with her, but instead of yelling or disappointment, she just smiled and hugged him.

"It's alright! There's always next year! And besides, we already kinda went trick or treating, right? Sweet dreams, Mickey! Take care!" she waved at him cheerfully and skipped back home.

But little did she know that would be the last Halloween they'd spend together, for that night, a massacre happened at his home, and deep down, Y/N knew.

She just...Knew.

It was Michael who created that blood bath. He couldn't take all that abuse anymore, and Y/N understood that well enough...And she hated herself for thinking this, but she knew she was selfish...

If Michael didn't kill his family, they'd still have been able to hang out daily, and laugh together, lick each other's wounds, and go trick or treating on Halloween...

But she had to be happy with visiting him at Smith's Grove institute weekly with his mum, and they'd chat, and talk, and try to get him out of the shell that he hid himself into...

And he wouldn't stop hiding his face behind his masks, every week, a new one, a new one, and a new one, each time, weirder and creepier and grotesque.

No matter what his mother told him, and no matter what Y/N told him...Michael didn't listen, and the more time he spent there, the less he spoke...Until he hasn't said a word to Y/N in at least two weeks. It made the poor girl tear up, fearing that he hated her, but at least he'd shake his head and clutch his shirt where the gifted necklace would be.

And she would understand.

His mother was confused, and the Dr. was confused as well, but Y/N wasn't, and she'd smile at him and wouldn't explain what happened. It was their little secret, and nobody would be able to be made aware of.

And then...After many weeks of visiting, Michael stuck again and killed a nurse, which led to his mother committing suicide, and since she had nobody to go with to visit him, the last thing she could do was send in letters weekly, hoping they will be given to him, but she had no way of knowing, since nobody wanted to tell her anything, and no reply came by.

Until she gave up writing, thinking that Michael actually hated her, and decided to go on with her life, and her father made her move away to another state to get better education.

15 years passed, and the now 27 year old Y/N was a University graduate who worked hard and was able to get her old home in Haddonfield...To think she'd finally be able to go there again, she never would have thought that.

But here she was, having found a nice, well-paying job, and she was pretty happy, albeit nostalgic, being again back...Home. By the time she returned, she had already learnt how to play the guitar too, so every Friday night, she'd sit on her porch and play a song, softly singing along, hoping not to disturb anyone.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for loving me..." she hummed, singing the song by Kiss as she looked up at the starry night with no care in the world.

It was a simple life, but it was good and peaceful - And she had quite a lot of money to do with as she pleases - What else could ask for?

"BREAKING NEWS! A psychiatric patient from Smith's Grove escaped just last night and -..." but Y/N didn't bother hearing the rest of it, because...Because... "Michael...!" she gasped, covering her mouth with both her hands from the shock, tears threatening to fall and she goes outside, looking around, left and right, down the street, hoping to see a glimpse of the blond boy she once held so dear to her heart.

And what a coincidence, tomorrow night was Halloween...Did he do it on purpose? Did he even remember the days they spent together? Or how special Halloween was for him? Did he still have that silly necklace with him? Did he ever read her letters?

So many questions that she was pretty sure she'll never get an answer to, and that thought alone killed her.

The next day, she dressed in her Kiss loose Tshirt, remembering how that was Michael's favourite band, and somewhere in her heart, she hoped to see him again, even just by a little bit. Even a glimpse at his beautiful blue eyes would be enough.

But she knew she was dreaming...

She went to work as usual, but she was so busy that she didn't realise she ended up overstaying and overworking herself until she left the place and realised it was already dark outside, and there were barely any children trick or treating - But hey, there still were a few - And Y/N couldn't help but smile and remember the cute witch and her loyal jester.

The good times...

As she hummed carefree and looked up at the starry sky, but then she heard a crack, and looking back...Nothing? Hmm...Suspicious... She continued walking, but the ominous feeling in the back of her head continued, and so, she took out her pocket mirror and noticed a man somewhere in the back, walking towards her. A colleague from work, she recognised him, yes, she remembers him. He was kicked out from the job because of his inappropriate behaviour...And him following her now truly was no good news.

Analysing the situation, she realised she was close enough to home to make a break for it, so taking a deep breath, she sprinted the hell out of there...But...things didn't go as expected.

Before she could even reach her home, for she was pushed to the ground and straddled, his hands immediately finding their way around her neck, trying to immobilise her, to stop her from struggling and let him have his way with her.

But Y/N was a fighter, and she didn't want to allow the bullying she experienced as a child to take over her adult life, but she also didn't have the body strength to go against this guy, no matter how much she tried to struggle.

However...Before she knew it, the man stopped - Almost as if he froze - And she was splattered with liquid. It was blood. The man above her was stabbed in the chest, then in the head continuously, before his body was snatched and tossed away like a ragdoll.

Great - Y/N thought - From one criminal to another, with a whimper, she tried to get up and run away, but the man was too fast for her, and he picked her up with a weird ease, getting her inside her own house and letting her fall down on her couch.

The man saw fear in her eyes, and she was whimpering, her head hung as she tried to make herself as small as possible - As if she wasn't already so small, especially compared to him - It was pissing him off, as he remembered her jackass father abusing her. He would never hurt her! He promised her he'd always protect her, so why is she so scared of him...?!

"E-Excuse me...Uhm...Mister...A-Are you...Maybe...Uhmm...Are you Michael...?" she stuttered in such a meek voice that it grated his brain. This isn't right, Y/N was cheerful and happy. This...This wasn't right... The man got a hand underneath the neck of his blouse, only to reveal the old flower necklace from long ago. "Michael...! It really is you...Michael...I can't believe it! Oh my God...You grew up so much, this is insane!" as if a switch turned inside her, the girl jumped on her couch and threw herself on the incredibly tall man, not caring whether he liked it or not.

He was her Michael, and she missed him.

"You still don't talk, do you? Well...At least take off this mask of yours. I told you, I hate it when you hide yourself from me. I want to see your beautiful face." she chuckled, pulling Michael down with her on the couch, as he stood with his hands mid-way in the air, rather awkwardly, before finally pulling up his old mask and threading with it with his hands that were laying on his lap. "There we go, as beautiful as ever." she chuckled softly as she parted his long, dirty blond hair and letting it fall down his back, so his face could properly be seen. "Oh my God, you even have a stubble. I can't believe it. Well, we are all grown up after all, aren't we? Seems like almost yesterday when we'd go trick or treating...On this very day." she kept talking of the nostalgic things from so long ago, so much that it made Michael grunt in amusement, but his face didn't sketch any emotion. It really upset Y/N, it felt like talking to a wall. "Well, at least I'm happy that you remember me. I didn't think you did. I kinda thought you hated me too, I didn't know if you got any of my letters either. Uhm...I don't really know what to say. It's weird talking to myself like that. But I'm happy to see you again." she continued speaking before stopping altogether and fidgeting awkwardly on her spot next to him, as he didn't even move, or bother saying a single word.

They stood like that for a while, until Michael suddenly started moving, and revealed a bunch of unopened letters - All from her.

"You have all of them...!" Y/N gasped in shock, taking the letters and examining all of them one by one. "Why didn't you open them?" but instead of an answer, he shook his head. "Did you...Not have them...Until recently?" Y/N tried to guess, and the answer came in the form of a nod. "That stupid doctor! How dare he?! ...You must have felt so lonely stuck there...With your mum shooting herself, I couldn't go there anymore, so I sent you letters weekly...The doctor promised to give them to you...Urgh, what a jerk. And I thought you hated me and that's why you didn't want to reply to them...But you just got them. How annoying." Y/N groaned, realising the truth of what happened, and she let the letters fall down on the coffee table.

After some more silence between the two, Michael pointed towards her shirt, and she smiled, nodding and taking her guitar before leaning on his side. "Yeah, I know it's your favourite band. I never forgot that." she chuckled, and as she started playing the same song she knew so well - And she felt a strong arm sneaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. It surprised her a bit, but she felt so safe and warm in his embrace.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby..." she sang in the same sweet, crystalline, soft voice that he loved so much, and missed over the many years they've been separated.

"...Can you get enough of me?"

#slasher #slasher boyfriend #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher boyfriend imagine #slasher boyfriend x reader #michael myers #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #halloween #halloween imagine #halloween x reader

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

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