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topguncortez · 1 year

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Truth Hurts || Whumptober Day 1 - J. Seresin

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synopsis: You never imagined sharing your deepest darkest secrets in front of two monsters and your best friend. Loosely based on the book “Still Beating” by Jennifer Hartmann.

@ailesswhumptober whump prompt: drugging @ailesswhumptober

word count: 4.5k

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, murder, character death, truth serum, drugging, forced proximity.

You liked to think that when you were to die, it would happen quickly.

A car accident, a gunshot wound, a failed ejection, ingesting too many sleeping pills.

You wanted it fast. You didn’t want to suffer. You didn’t want your death to be one that would be talked about twenty years from now and people’s eyes would automatically fill with tears when it was spoken about. You didn’t want to meet the same fate as your husband, Bradley, had met nearly a year ago.

It’s funny how things don’t seem to work in your favor.

Six days. Six long, excruciating days of pain, starvation, and abuse. That’s how long you had been locked in this dungeon of horrors, alongside your best friend, Jake. You always thought that these sorts of things only happen in the movies. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to fall for a woman on the side of the road who claimed her baby was choking. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to make Jake stop the car so you could run out and go help her. You also didn’t think Jake was dumb enough to get out of the car and try to rescue you from the man dressed head to toe in black who held your passive body.

But, here you were. Chained like animals in some psycho couple’s basement, waiting for them to come down and do whatever horrible things they had on the dockette for the day.

“They’re probably sending out a search party,” Jake said, from across the room in his own cage. Whoever had taken you had done this before. They had a whole set-up down here with chains and cages that resembled jail cells. You looked over at Jake, giving him the same glare you had been giving him every day since day one. He, somehow, was hanging onto his optimism, while yours had left almost instantly.

That’s how Jake has always been. He’s always been this bright light in your life, and you should appreciate it. You really wish that you could appreciate it, but something had died inside you a year ago when you had buried Bradley. You weren’t the same happy-go-lucky girl who grew up with an amazing family and got to do the coolest job in the world alongside her husband and her childhood best friend. Instead, you were just the shell of the person you once were.

“I-I know they are. I know they would have the best-”

“Jake,” You sighed, closing your eyes. He knew better than to continue on. He had never been on the receiving end of your anger before being trapped down here. You could be volatile, and spit venom when you needed to. You had already apologized profusely for the words that you had said to Jake after what was now probably the worst day of your life, but Jake forgave you.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, the only sound being the steady tapping of dripping water from the leaky faucet in the corner of the basement. You had never been so envious of concrete before.

“Do you miss him?” Jake asked quietly. You turned your head over to him, raising your eyebrows in a silent way to tell him to elaborate, “Bradley.”

Your eyes went from Jake’s forrest green ones, down to your dirty feet.

Of course, you missed Bradley.

You missed everything about him.

You missed his laugh. His horrible dad jokes. His honey-brown eyes. His loud, off-key singing. His sunkissed, warm skin. His awful dancing. His soft and sweet kisses. Hell, you even missed yelling at him about leaving the toilet seat up.

But most of all, you missed his strong, comforting hugs that could make a grown man cry. Bradley Bradshaw had always felt like home to you, and you missed your home.

“Every single day,” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke.

Every single day, you wished that you could turn back the clock. That you could’ve been the one who was at home that night. The detective told you that it was a “home invasion gone wrong”. A horrible case of wrong place, wrong time. But you always believed that there was more to it. That the detective with the large belly and graying hair just wanted to move on to a bigger, worse case than this. You had pushed and pushed them to look at the case just a little bit more.

“Sweetheart, no one would want to kill one of America’s finest. The case is closed. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

But he wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. You found his body in the kitchen of your shared home. Those words bounced around in your head on the darkest nights, as you sat on the ground in the room that was supposed to be a nursery. Bradley had been so excited about starting a family with you. The way his eyes lit up every single time he’d see a baby on the street or would look at baby clothes at Target. All you had wanted was to be able to give him the child he longed for.

“I was going to tell him,” You said, leaning your head back against the cold cement wall. Jake looked up at you. Your face was dirty, and the grime of being without a shower for nearly a week starting to show. Your eyes, the ones Jake used to think resembled the earth, were dark. Your hair was limp and greasy around your shoulders, “I was going to tell him that I. . . That I was pregnant, that night.”

Jake sucked in a breath and looked down at the ground. He had been with you, cramped in a small bathroom at the post exchange on base as you took the pregnancy test. You had been so happy, he swore he had never seen a brighter smile on your face before. Jake held you tightly as you cried tears of joy, and immediately called your mom to tell her.

Jake had also been by your side, picking you up off the ground as blood ran down your thighs, just a mere days after Bradley’s death. He never wanted to hear the sounds of pure anguish again. The sound of your wails as you stood in the kitchen, haunted Jake at night. The sight of all the blood made him sick, and the scent of copper was forever engrained into his mind.

“He would’ve been so excited,” Jake said, looking up at you.

“I imagine it was a girl. He was always meant to be a girl dad.”

Bradley had a small pocketbook that he would keep with him, jotting down names that would come to him throughout the day that he liked. They ranged from names of famous rockstars to biblical names.

‘What do you mean Jebbidiah isn’t a good name?’

‘Jeb Bush. . .’

‘You got a point.”

You chuckled at the memory, shaking your head lightly. You and Bradley had narrowed his list of nearly a hundred names down to at least two, one for a boy and one for a girl.

“Lennon,” You smiled, “Lennon Dhani Bradshaw. Dhani, spelled like how George named his son. You know how much I love-”

“The Beatles, I know,” Jake nodded.

You gave him a quick glance and then went back to your little glimpse of happiness, “My favorite song was-”

“Here Comes the Sun and In My Life, I know,” Jake said again.

The silence stretched back over the two of you. You used to mind the silence between you and Jake. Before, it was that comforting silence that signified the strong bond between the two of you. You used to be able to sit in the same room, on opposite ends of the couch, reading books or scrolling through your phones, neither one feeling the need to fill the air with conversation.

Now, you feared the silence.

You let out a sigh, before going to speak, “Jake, I-”

The sound of the large door at the top of the stairs cut you off. The sick feeling of dread filled your body, as thudding footsteps made their way down the crikey wooden stairs. Your body started to tremble as your kidnappers came down for their daily routine.

Bonnie and Earl, are two odd, sick ducks that somehow, some way met each other and fell in love. Bonnie had gone on and on the first night, while Earl acted out his vile assaults on you, about their “love” story. Apparently, it was love at first sight, and the two got married within a month of knowing each other. They also kidnapped their first couple within that same month.

“Rise and shine!” Bonnie’s chipper voice sounded out like nails on a chalkboard. Your throat felt tight as Earl’s eyes locked directly on you. Bonnie walked over to you, grabbing your chin with her cold, dainty hand, “Are you ready, Bunny?”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked in her cold blue irises. After the first night, you had hoped to maybe reach out to Bonnie, to break through to her and get her to let you go. What sane woman would be okay with the monstrosities her husband acted out on women? Apparently, Bonnie.

“Too bad,” Bonnie chuckled, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to stand. Earl replaced Bonnie by standing in front of you, his hand already down his pants, jerking himself off. At this point in time, the routine was basically burned into the back of your eyelids.

Earl takes Bonnie’s spot. Bonnie undoes Jake’s cuffs. Bonnie sits Jake down in a chair across from you and Earl. Jake hurls insults and threats at the two of them. Earl commits his heinous crimes. Earl and Bonnie leave the two of you alone in complete silence.

You were starting to wonder if it would ever end.

— — —

“You know hanging is the worst way to go?” Jake said, cutting through the silence.

It was day twenty-one, and you had officially lost hope of ever making it out alive. Bonnie and Earl had been feeding you less and less, only a sandwich every two days instead of every day. You made sure that when you brushed your teeth, you took extra gulps of water, savoring the taste of it down your throat.

“You don’t die instantly,” Jake continued, “You struggle, your lungs aching for air, you know what’s going on until the moment your neck snaps.”

You looked over at him, seeing the dull look in his eyes as he stared off into space. You knew Jake started to come to terms with your current state. It made your heart ache to hear and see the optimism slip from his body. You weren’t sure when it happened, probably after day fourteen.

Day Fourteen.

The second worst day of your life.

First, was losing Bradley.

Second, was watching as your friend stood defenseless and was forced to commit an act he’d rather take a bullet for.

You had hardly ever seen Jake cry, but as he stood in front of you, emptying himself in you, he had broken down, whispering apologies into your dirty skin. His light green eyes had grown dark and dull as he was dragged away from you, leaving you cold and broken. Jake had refused to even look at you, turning his body to face away. You had told him several times throughout the night that you weren’t upset or mad, that you understood what he had to do.

“I’m not mad at you. I understand it, I do. You did it to survive, Jake. I forgive you.”

You thought for sure that you were going to lose Jake after that. He didn’t speak for a whole day. After twenty-four hours in silence, the only sound was the occasional creak of the floorboards and the drips from the leaky pipe. You thought for sure that you would wake up and see Jake’s lifeless body on the floor. But instead, you woke up to his gentle, soft voice, singing.

‘In My Life… I Love You More…’

“I’d say being stabbed to death is worse,” You said softly, “Yes, hanging is awful, but it only lasts a matter of seconds. Being stabbed? Can last for hours. Painful, agonizing hours, where you lie alone in your own blood, and can’t do anything but wait for someone to either find you or for the reaper to take you.”

Jake felt a sudden rush of nausea run through his body at your words. His body felt hot as he looked over at you, sitting on the ground, absent-mindedly moving your foot back and forth over a crack in the cement. You always used to be the one who got sick at even the thought of blood. Now, to hear you talk so frankly about death, made goosebumps arise on Jake’s skin.

“You think he struggled?” Jake whispered.

“He fought back,” You sniffled, “The detective said he defense wounds on his arms. He always said he’d find a way to come home to me.”

Jake could remember sitting in the stale, white-walled room with you as the detective handed you the manila folder that held the official autopsy report. Why you wanted to read it and see the photos of Bradley’s mutilated body, was beyond Jake. It was bad enough that he had to see the blood trail and stained red hands. But you stared at the pictures for hours. The pictures of the man you loved and the house that was now an active crime scene.

The morning faded into day, as the shadows of the sun coming through the basement windows began to move. On day three, Jake taught you how to estimate the time by the position of the shadows on the cement wall. He guessed that the house faced towards the west, and every night as the sun began to set, your hair would have a certain warm glow to it. The two of you were playing your usual game of twenty-one questions, trying to pass the time until the inevitable happened.

You were trying not to think of whatever horror could unfold today. It seemed that on every seventh day, something worse seemed to happen. Day Seven was the first day you were assaulted. Day fourteen was the day Jake was forced to hurt you. And now, you were waiting to see what day twenty-one had in store.

Every time the sound of the basement door would open, a cold shiver would go down your spine, and you pulled your knees up to protect yourself. It was a futile chance at hopefully keeping Earl and Bonnie away from you, but it never worked. There seemed to be some charged energy between the two of them as Bonnie happily skipped down the stairs and stood outside of your cell as if you were an animal at the zoo.

“Today is gonna be great!” She cheered, a sick smile on her face, “I want the girl first, baby. I know she’s got secrets to confess.”

“Anything for you, honey bunny,” Earl cooed at his wife and placed a kiss on her lips. He then turned, digging the keys to your cell out of his pocket, “You must be waiting for today, bunny,” Earl said to you, a sickening smirk on his face. He undid your cuffs like he always did, and led you over to the open space between yours and Jake’s cages. Instead of chaining you up to the post in the middle like he usually would, he sat you down in a chair. He chained your cuffs behind the back of your chair and chained down your ankles.

Earl took a step back, admiring you like you were some type of animal he had just hunted down. You felt bile rising in your throat as he stepped towards you, his disgusting scent invading your senses. He smelled of sweat and blood, and his hands were dirty as he grabbed your chin in his hand, “You’re so beautiful, you know that, bunny?”

You clenched your jaw tightly, keeping your eyes down at the floor, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, “I bet that’s why that boy of yours loved you so much.”

You snapped your head up, “What?”

Earl roared with laughter as he let go of your face and took a step back, “That’s what got your attention! Whew, and I was here thinking you were an idiot.” He wiped a tear from his face, stepping back to you and running a finger down your face, “That boy, what was his name? Bradley, was it? Handsome young man, so sad what you did to him.”

“You know nothing,” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Everyone will know all, very, very soon, bunny. . . hold still.”

“Wha-Fuck!” You cursed as you felt the pinch of a needle being injected into your neck. Your heart began to race as you looked in terror at Earl and now Bonnie who stood in front of you, “What did you do? What was that!?”

Bonnie giggled and held up a vial in her hand, “Truth Serum. Made it myself!” Earl put his arm proudly around Bonnie, her face resembling a kid who just had sugar for the first time.

“Is that going to kill her?” Jake yelled at Bonnie, who simply shrugged, “Hey! Y/N, look at me!” Jake rattled the chainlink that had been keeping you apart, “What the fuck did you do?!”

It felt like you were being suffocated as you looked over at Jake. Your head began to swim, and your limbs felt like you could hardly hold yourself up anymore. Your body began to feel warm and tingly as a thin layer of sweat started to cover your body. The only thoughts in your head were that this was it. This was the moment in which you were going to die. In this dirty, dingy basement with your kidnappers watching and your best friend trying to fight his way towards you.

Then, everything seemed to change. Every muscle started to contract, making you shiver violently. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been lit on fire, and a small scream left your body at the pain. You were scared your heart was going to explode from the sheer force of it beating in your chest.

“It hurts!” You cried, pulling on your cuffs, “Help! It hurts!”

“It’s working,” Bonnie clapped her hands in excitement, “Ask the question!”

Earl chuckled, holding his wife against his front, “Not yet, sweets. We gotta start off slow. First question, bunny, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?”

The words felt like hot lava trying to escape you, but you fought against them, pushing them down in your body, “No.”

Earl’s eyes narrowed at you, “It’ll feel better if you let the serum do its thing. Keep fighting, and it’ll kill you.”

“I’d rather die,” You grit your teeth, your nails digging into your palms.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I can make that happen,” Earl said, “Now answer the question, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?”

You shook your head, scared that if you were to open your mouth, the truth would come spilling out. You never knew that the words “truth hurts” could be real until you found yourself in utter agony trying to hide the truth. Bonnie had her jaw clenched tightly as she watched you fight off her experiment. You wondered how many other people had been in your position. How many other people tried to fight and ended up dead? Or worse, ended up dead before they even got the chance to fight.

“I love him,” You choked out, “I would never hurt him.”

Jake shook his head, a scoff falling from his lips. Earl looked over his shoulder at him, a smirk forming on his lips, “You know something.” Jake instantly went quiet, not daring to look at you, but his body language was enough of a giveaway. You looked up at Jake, tears in your eyes as you begged him not to say anything. But Bonnie always prided herself on being a problem-solver, and a gasp fell from her lips. She waltzed her way over to Earl and whispered in his ear.

Earl stood up tall as he looked at you with a menacing smile on his face, “You cheated on him, didn’t you,” You groaned in agony, tears streaming down your face as you tried to fight off the effects of the serum. Earl huffed as he pulled the gun out of the waistband of his pants, and pointed it at Jake’s head, “Answer the question you fucking bitch! Or, I’ll blow his brains all over the wall!”

“Y/N. . .” Jake called out softly as you let out a scream.

“I cheated on him!” You admitted. The feeling of sweet relief filled your body, as the words came tumbling out, “It was a mistake! A total and complete, stupid mistake!” You cried, tears and snot running down your face as you looked at Jake, “I-I. . . it was stupid! And I told him, I know we promised no one would know, but I couldn’t lie to him. I felt awful. It was killing me!”

“And he forgave you?” Bonnie asked, letting out a guffaw, “What an idiot!”

“He loved me!” You snapped, pulling on your chains, “He forgave me, and it made us stronger.”

“So you don’t love, puppy over there?” Earl asked, turning to glance at Jake like he was fresh meat.

You clenched your jaw, feeling the painful truth rising up in your chest, but you fought it. Your nails dug into your palms as you shook your head, and you willed your voice to stay calm as you spoke.

“I don’t love him.”

Earl chuckled, walking up to you, and undoing your chains. You fell into a heap in his arms as he helped walk you back to your cell. You felt utter disgust as he ran his hand over your filthy hair, whispering how good you did in your ear, but your eyes never left Jake. His jaw was clenched tightly as Bonnie grabbed him and pulled him over to the same chair you were just chained up to. His green eyes bore into yours as Bonnie injected the same truth serum into his neck.

The serum felt hot as it made its way through Jake’s body, making his nerves tingle. It was a dull ache that he felt and did his best to remain upright on his own two feet. He wondered to himself if you wouldn’t have fought so hard to hide the truth it wouldn’t have caused you so much pain. He could feel his heartbeat start to rise in his chest, and sweat pool on his brow. Taking a deep breath, Jake looked over to Earl and Bonnie;

“Do your worst,” He sneered.

Bonnie shrieked in excitement, “Finally!”

Earl shushed her with a grin on his face, “Since the bitch won’t tell the truth, I guess the puppy will. . . You fucked her, didn’t you?”

“Several times,” Jake’s face was stoic as he answered truthfully. The guilt in your body seemed to weigh you down like cement stones. You hated what you did to Bradley, and the lies that you kept from him, but you couldn’t help your attraction to Jake, “And she loved every moment of it. Even begged me for more.”

“Whew! So she is a slut after all!” Earl looked over at you with that disgusting hunger in his eyes you’ve seen before, “I knew it. So tell me puppy. . . did you feel bad about it? What was it that she said? Oh, did you think it was a mistake?”

Jake clenched his jaw and looked over at you, “Never.”

“And why’s that?” Bonnie asked.

“Cause he was screwing someone else,” Jake admitted.

You gasped, holding your hand to your mouth, “That’s not true.” Bradley would never hurt you the way that you hurt him. He loved you too much to do that and it killed you to know how much you had hurt him.

“It is! I saw him, Y/N!” Jake yelled, “I saw him with that girl at the bar. Do you remember the one he told you was some annoying junior pilot with a crush? He was screwing her,” Jake spat. You shook your head, eyes wide, refusing to believe the words that Jake had just spoken.

“That’s a lie. He would nev-”

“It’s the truth, Y/N. They were doing it everywhere. At work, at the Hard Deck. . . at the house. Remember when he went to Virginia for a week? He went home with her to meet her family.”

“No!” You screamed, “He wouldn’t do that to me!”

“So what did you do?” Bonnie asked. Jake’s eyes bore into yours as he took deep breaths. Bonnie looked between the two of you, before yelling, “Say it!”

“I killed him,” Jake whispered.

“What? What was that?” She instigated, leaning into Jake and holding her hand to her ear.

“I killed him.”

“Louder! I can’t hear-”

“I killed him!” Jake yelled, his eyes never leaving yours, “I. . . I just wanted to scare him, to let him know that I knew what he was doing, and to get him to either come clean to you or stop. I-I don’t know what happened. But he. . . he started fighting back and I just. . . I lost control.”

“It felt great didn’t it?” Bonnie asked, walking over to Jake, putting her hands on his shoulders, and running them down his chest, “You felt that release. That sweet, sweet release,” You wanted to kill her as she placed kisses up and down Jake’s neck. He couldn’t help but flutter his eyes closed at the gentle feel on his skin, “You let out all that pent-up need that someone was depriving you of. It felt like the best orgasm ever, didn’t it?”

Jake looked away from you, guilt swimming in his eyes. You let out an anguishing cry as you collapsed to the ground, sobs racking your body as you dry-heaved. All Jake could do was sit in the chair and watch you. Earl walked over to you and picked up your body as if you weighed nothing. You thrashed in his arms as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at Jake.

“You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?” Earl asked. Jake was silent as he looked down at the ground. “Answer me!” Jake looked at him, still keeping his mouth quiet. But you knew. By the look on his face, you knew what he was fighting.

“Answer him, Jake,” You said quietly, “You’d kill Bradley again, wouldn’t you?”

Jake couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he looked at you, “I would kill anyone who hurt you, sweetheart.”

taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @seitmai @cassiemitchell @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @sarahsmi13s @els-marvelvsp @ohtobeleah

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

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Long Time Coming

After spending your entire life getting to know the optimistic, perpetually happy Josh Kiszka, you are pleasantly surprised when he shows you a different side of him.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, mentions death/sickness, mentions of drug use and addiction, parental issues, creepiness from men. Sorry if I missed any!!

here’s some smutty angsty grumpy x sunshine love. Writing this whole thing has been a bit therapeutic, so it turned out a little longer than I expected 😭 I apologize. anyways, be kind, I hope you enjoy, and please excuse any grammar mistakes! ALSO it’s been a long time since I’ve written smut so if it’s bad please bear with me

There was something about him. Something that all of the girls seemed to swoon over, that implored them to flock to him and fall to his feet. Sure, you could understand how it could be charming, but to you? It drove you absolutely insane. And not in the good way. You didn’t hate the guy; far from it, really. But you did try to limit your one on one time with him, just to spare yourself the headache later in the day.

Josh Kiszka was not a bad person. He was nowhere near it. He was very attractive, but also nice, kind, and quite funny, too, but he was so unbelievably happy all of the time. You didn’t hate happiness, but by god, you were sure if you told him you’d murdered his whole family he’d still find the best in the situation. Admittedly, you were aware that you lived your life a bit more on the grumpy side, always leaning towards the glass half empty idea, but even so; you didn’t understand how he never seemed to be in a bad mood.

You didn’t hate optimism, but he sure as hell made you feel like you shouldn’t be sad over the stuff you’re allowed to be sad about. That, and due to your mediocre life filled with more than enough troubles, you envied that you’d never seen a frown on his face. You loved him, sure. He was one of your friends, albeit you found yourself closer with the other three boys. You’d grown up with them, always found yourself in their company, and even moved to Nashville after you’d finished university just to be around them again, and perhaps to get away from Michigan, as well.

You worked in finance, securing a well paying job as an accountant at a big name company not long after your move to the big city. You had sort of moved on a whim, with no real promise of a good job or any sustainable income. You didn’t want to move until you had one for sure, but eventually conceded because of a promise from Sam that he and Danny had a spare bedroom in their apartment that was begging for someone to take it. They had been pestering you for as long as they’d lived there for you to move in with them. You had graduated with Jake and Josh, but found more solace hanging out with the younger two boys once you all grew up. Josh still took credit for ‘founding your friendship with Sam’ as he was the first of any of the brothers to spark a conversation with you.

You got plenty of alone time when the boys were off on tour, and didn’t mind the noise at all when they came home. As much as you liked to believe you were an introvert, you found yourself longing for their company after coming home every day to silence. Maybe it was just Sam and Danny that brought that out in you.

You pulled into your usual parking spot outside of the apartment complex at exactly 5:17, the same time you were home almost every day, due to the ungodly (but predictable) traffic always in the way of the roads. The firm you worked for should only be a five minute drive, at most, but city traffic was tedious and nothing like what you were used to in your small hometown. You were certain you’d never get used to it. You pulled your keys out of your ignition, followed by a cigarette from your pack. You had the habit kicked for a while, but picked it up sometime during the three month stretch the boys had been gone. You hoped you could quit it again before they got back within the coming weeks, but you had little hope.

You sat on the grass by the door, lighting the end of the cigarette. You let your eyes scan the parking lot, looking for nothing in particular. The sun was warm and it was nice being outside after eight hours of stuffy office air. Your dress pants were growing even more uncomfortable by the second and you were eager to get inside so you could curl up in bed and start your weekend off correctly: a glass of wine and a date with your book. You were excited to play the new vinyl records you’d picked up earlier in the week on a spur of the moment shopping trip.

You decided to have another before you went inside, just to curb the craving for a bit longer. Just as you put the filter between your lips, the front door of the building opened. You didn’t bother to look up, figuring it was just your creepy neighbour. He always seemed to be waiting for you when you got home from work. Sam promised you he’d get him evicted when he got back. “Chainsmoking, now, y/n?” You heard a disapproving tsk follow the sentence. Your head snapped up, barely believing your ears.

“Sammy!?” You shot up from your position on the ground. He held his arms out and you jumped into them, not caring how stupid it looked. “What are you doing home?” You asked, head still buried in his shoulder. He held you until you were ready to let go.

“Missed your pretty face too much, had to come back just to see it.” He said, pinching your cheeks when he finally let go.

“You’re too sweet, Samuel. Don’t flatter me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Seriously though, you’re smoking again? I thought you were the first person to actually adhere to their New Year’s resolution.” You gave a shrug.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” You admitted. He nodded as if to say ‘fair enough’. “Is Danny back, too?” You asked, a hopeful gleam in your eyes. He nodded, a grin still stuck on his face.

“We had a stretch with no shows so we came home to see you.” He informed. “I know you’d never admit it, but we know you get lonely when we’re gone.” Instead of his usual joking tone, it was laced with sincerity. Instead of responding with words, you just pulled him into another embrace. He smelled like Sam; a scent that felt more like home than anything else. “Come in, get comfortable, and get something to eat. We brought you your favourite takeout,” he paused before continuing. “Thing one and Thing two are coming over tonight, too.” You chuckled at Sam’s pass at his brothers. You missed them so much, you weren’t even dreading having to deal with Josh’s exuberant personality all evening.

When you entered your apartment, you wasted no time searching for the honorary Kiszka brother. You found him standing in the living room, anxiously awaiting your arrival. You wasted no time running to him, tackling him in a hug. You both fell to the ground in a mess of limbs and echoing laughter. “I missed you too, bug.” He said, with his arms still wrapped around you. Danny was the only person in the world you allowed to call you any pet names, aside from your Grandmother, who’d raised you your whole life. Josh tried his luck, calling you ‘mama’ any chance he got, which was always met with a glare in return.

When you both got back on your feet, you implored them to tell you all about the last few months. They waved it off, assuring you they’d tell you all about it later night. You ushered them upstairs to show them the new vinyls you’d added to your collection. Eventually, you had gotten changed and graciously ate the food your roommates had brought home to you. You took a quick shower before the twins arrived, reapplying a bit of makeup so you could cover the exhaustion caused by your never ending pile of work. You sipped on a glass of wine while music played softly from your phone.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door, catching your attention. “What’s up?” You asked, unsure of who would answer.

“Get dressed up, we’re going to head to the bar down the street.” Sam’s voice sounded. You opened the door so you could talk to him face to face, rather than through a wall.

“Implying I don’t always look fantastic?” You teased.

“Not in the slightest, my dear, for you are the fairest maiden in apartment 3C.” He gave a dramatic bow. You rolled your eyes, shoving him backwards. He stumbled slightly before regaining his footing.

“I’m the only ‘maiden’ in 3C, Sammy.”

“Not true, I’m not sure if you realized but Daniel also lives with us.” You let a giggle escape your lips as you fumbled with the tube of mascara in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You finished getting ready not long after Sam left you, pulling a nice dress from your closet and throwing it on. You took your hair down from its clip to let it dry naturally. When you made your way back to the living room, four voices sounded down the hall. You appeared around the corner, staying silent until one of the twins noticed you. After a few minutes, Josh broke from their conversation to check if you’d shown up. His eyes lit up at the sight of you. You didn’t even find yourself annoyed when his infamous smile crossed his cheeks. He pushed past everyone to greet you. You welcomed his hug, to everyone’s surprise. “Looking good, as usual, mama.” He whispered as he let go. You bit your tongue, fighting back a snide comment at his pet name.

“Thanks, Joshua.” You replied. You let your eyes linger over him for a moment. He looked good, too, but you’d never let yourself say it out loud. It would fuel his ego a bit too much. He’d cut his hair, which you’d failed to notice in the photos Sam had sent you. It was shaved on the sides now, the top a curly mess. You noticed he looked a little less boyish since the last time you’d seen him, now growing in a bit of facial hair. He looked really good. After an awkward staring contest, Jake pushed his twin to the side to greet you, too. “To the bar, then?” You asked the group after a few moments. There was chorus of agreements.

It was dark out now, the sun just finished setting, leaving a rusty glow in the sky. The group of you walked down the busy sidewalk together, passing other groups of drunkards with the same idea. You were sandwiched between Sam and Danny, both of their arms wrapped around you. To be honest, you hated the bar. Sweaty drunk people dancing to shitty music, creepy guys who made your skin crawl, and always leaving feeling dirty. It was not something you desired to experience. But tonight, you were more than happy to go if it meant you got to be with your friends.

Jake led the way to a booth in the far corner, away from the crowd. You slid in first, and Josh jumped at the chance to sit beside you. You bit the inside of your cheek, wishing someone else had claimed the seat first, but you stayed silent. The night was filled with chatter, stories about the tour bus antics and the different cities they’d been lucky enough to visit. “You have to come with us sometime, y/n, I think you’d love it.” Josh said.

“I can’t just get up and go, Josh. I have to work.” You told him, shutting the idea down. It irked you slightly, knowing he thought you could just drop everything and leave.

“Take some vacation time, then. We’d love to have you come along. Plus, I hate the thought of you being here alone all of the time.” You had to take a double take when the words left his mouth. Not once, in your lifetime of friendship, could you ever recall him saying he hated something. ‘Weird’ you thought to yourself.

“Y-yeah, maybe.” You nodded, taking a long sip from your drink. After the silence lingered too long, the youngest brother jumped at the opportunity to break it.

“Shots, anyone?” Sam asked, eyeing you specifically. You shrugged.

“As long as it’s not bottom of the barrel liquor.”

“Don’t I always treat you well?” Sam snipped back. You smiled at him as he left the booth, Danny and Jake following suit, presumably also to get more drinks. That left you and Josh to yourselves.

“How’s your big girl job treating you?” Josh asked, taking sudden interest in your personal life.

“Uh, it’s work, I guess.” You let out a small laugh.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad! You work for a huge company - it must be exciting!” He smiled at you. You let out a long exhale, nodding and forcing a smile on your face. There it was, the dreaded, mind-numbing optimism.

Sam returned with a platter of shots. He sat them in front of you with a charming smile. “For the lovely lady.”

“All for me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“If you feel such a need to have all of them, then I suppose I couldn’t be too upset with you.” He joked. You took two off the tray and the lime slice. You threw one back with no salt or lime, barely flinching at the burn it left behind. You finished the second one and popped the lime in your mouth, sucking the juice from it. “Good god, woman. You could bring any man to his knees shooting liquor like that.” Sam said with a humorous, lustful tone.

“I’m just getting started, darlin’.” You mumbled. Chasing the shots with the last of your drink. “I’ve got to take a trip outside; I will be back.” You said, shooing Josh out of the booth. You went outside for a cigarette, letting the cool air settle deep into your bones, returning feeling slightly rejuvenated. When you went back inside, you stopped by the bar to grab another beverage. As you waited to be served, a man just around the same age as you squeezed into the limited space between you and the next person.

You shifted awkwardly, not wanting to bump shoulders with him. He turned to smile at you, looking you up and down. “What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing buying your own drinks?” He asked. You brushed the comment off, not responding. You drummed your fingertips off the sticky bar top, signalling your impatience. “Playing hard to get, eh?” He pried, making a move to put his arm around you. You tried to shimmy out of his grip, but you were packed too tightly between other people to get away.

“Nope, just not interested.” You huffed.

“Oh come on now, let me buy you a drink, at least. Then maybe another, and I might get you drunk enough to agree to come home with me.” He gave you a sly grin. You couldn’t see it, but Josh was staring daggers at him from the booth. He’d been the first to notice your delay in returning, and the first to catch sight of the sleazy guy trapping you beside him. He was ablaze with anger just at the thought of someone touching you when you didn’t want it.

“Yeah, not the best pickup line, buddy.” You shut him down once more. His grasp around your waist tightened as you saw a flash of anger in his eyes. Your heart drummed against your chest, hoping one of the boys would notice and help you out.

“Oh come on, quit being a tease. Showing up here in a dress like that? You’re begging someone to take you home.” He practically growled. Just as you were trying to formulate a good enough response to get him to leave you alone, a firm, but gentle hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Hey, man, get the fuck away from her.” The person snapped from behind you. You turned your head, expecting to see Jake due to the tone of voice, but you were very surprised to see Josh standing there. The unknown man scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“And who are you?” The guy puffed up his chest, wanting to seem scarier than he was.

“My boyfriend.” The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could process them. “Come on, babe.” You grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him back towards the booth, finally getting a moment of freedom to allow you to do so. Josh was just as stunned as you were at your proclamation, but both of you brushed it off quickly.

“You okay, mama?” He asked, silently begging you to look at him.

“Yeah, thank you, Josh.” You breathed. Your hands were still intertwined. He nodded, eerily still, afraid that the physical contact would end.

“No need to thank me, I can still go and punch him, if you-“

“No, that’s okay.” You cut him off, even more surprised at the anger that was radiating off of him. You’d never seen Josh any less than content. His eyes held an emotion you weren’t sure Josh even knew existed. You hated to admit it, but you found it quite attractive. The thought of Josh getting that worked up on your behalf was causing you to have some conflicting thoughts. He nodded, looking to the floor.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. You shook your head, giving him a small smile.

“No need.” You whispered back. You felt your eyes linger over his face, still trying to fully grasp the situation at hand. “Did you maybe want to play some pool? Take our minds off it?” You suggested. He gave a slow nod.

“Sure, yeah.” He mumbled.

You gathered the rest of the boys, making your way to a vacant pool table. You sat on a stool and watched the brothers play a viciously terrible game, stifling laughs the whole time. “Sam, what the fuck was that?” Danny asked, motioning to the ball he’d hit too hard, causing it to fall from the table to the floor.

“Hey! I may be pretty, but I never once said I was good at pool,” Sam raised his hands in defence. The game ended in a stalemate, as all parties gave up at the realization that there was no progress being made.

The night carried on without another hiccup. It was filled with laughs, jokes and stories that you likely would not remember by the time you woke up the next day. You were positively drunk, stumbling to the bar after Sam had convinced you to do a terribly hilarious karaoke performance with him. “Hey! Can I get another screwdriver and whatever that man has been getting all night!” You shouted at the bartender, pointing to Josh. She laughed at you but nodded, getting you the drinks.

You returned to the group, handing Josh the drink you’d bought for him. “For me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, as a thank you for earlier!” You practically yelled in his face. Your level of drunk could always be measured by the volume of your words. You were a loud drunk, for certain. Josh laughed at you.

“I think it’s time to get you home, mama.” He said, placing a hand on your hip as you tumbled into him. For once, the nickname sounded nice on his lips. His smile wasn’t irritating, and his hand felt fantastic on you. You weren’t sure what had come over you. Something changed while he was gone.

“Only if I’m going home with you.” You batted your eyelashes at him. You had no idea what you were saying, and you sure as hell would regret it in the morning. Josh gave you a questioning look, but clearly whatever you said had affected him greatly. His hand on your hip tightened a little bit and his breathing sped. “What? You are my boyfriend after all,” you giggled, trying to make light of the earlier situation.

“God, I wish,” he mumbled under his breath. You didn’t catch it, your inhibitions greatly diminished. He was grateful for it, not sure if he was ready to admit that proclamation yet.

“You look good too, Josh. I wanted to say it earlier, but, you know…” you trailed off. He didn’t know, but he didn’t question it, too scared that the moment of intimacy would end. His fingers grabbed at the fabric of your dress, pulling you closer to him. Your faces were inches apart. He could smell the vodka off your breath. Your chest was almost fully pressed against him. You were both quite intoxicated, not really understanding that you were on full display in front of everyone. Sam was watching everything, mouth agape in shock. He was quite aware of your usual disdain for his brother, not understanding what was happening. Jake had a smirk on his lips, always knowing it was bound to happen eventually.

“Thank you,” He whispered, voice sounding a bit strained, not breaking eye contact with you once. You took a long gulp of your drink, feeling the liquid courage coursing through your veins. Your skin was on fire with a feeling you’d never felt before. Sure, you’d had a fling or two, a short term relationship here and there, but you’d never felt desire quite like this. Seeing Josh angry had sparked a fire in you. It showed you he was much more complex than he let on. You two stayed in that position, not sure how to continue on from there.

“So are you going to take me home, Joshua?” You leaned in, whispering in his ear. He sprung to action in an instant, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair and ushering you out the door. Sam shared a look with his brothers, a silent protest, wondering if he should stop you.

“Leave them be, it’s been a long time coming,” Jake said.

“Okay, then.” Sam nodded. “Looks like we’re stuck with the tab and nowhere to go for a while.”

•

You practically fell through the door of your apartment, hanging on to Josh for dear life. His hands were exploring your body as you led him to your bedroom, wanting to become familiar with every curve. He kicked the door shut behind him, pushing you back onto your mattress. He stood for a moment, heart pounding in anticipation.

You reached out for him, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him on top of you. Your mouths met for the first time, coming together with a neediness you couldn’t comprehend. It was messy, your teeth clashed into his a few times but you were far too invested in the moment to care. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, feeling the soft skin that lie beneath. You hastily pulled it over his head, finally taking a good look at him.

Your distaste for his loud personality seemed to overshadow how attractive he really was. Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of him, more exposed than you’d ever really seen him. His eyes were dark with a look never shared from him before. You never wanted it to go away. “Can I?” He asked, tugging at the bottom of your dress. You gave an overly-eager nod, too desperate to chastise him for his politeness. He slipped his hands under, lifting the tight skirt up to your stomach, letting out a guttural groan at the sight before pulling it off completely. “Fuck, mama.” He said, running his fingertips over the smooth skin of your stomach. His hands found your breasts in a second, quickly leaning down to pull your nipple in his mouth. He let his tongue flick over it, biting down softly after, causing a sharp gasp to break from you. You felt him smile against you.

“You like what you see?” You managed to stutter out. He pulled back, eyes raking over you again.

“You have no idea.” He said lowly, causing a knot to form in your stomach. You reached over and unbuttoned his jeans, hastily trying to get him out of them. You wanted him. No, you needed him. He stood, shimmying out of them and discarding them somewhere on the floor. He took no time in resuming the position on top of you. “So beautiful,” he mumbled, his lips meeting the sensitive skin on your neck. You were aching, desperate for his touch. Your fingers knotted in his hair at the nape of his neck. His hand found your hip once more, gripping it with a strength that made your heart flutter. “Can’t believe this is all for me.” His fingers dipped into your panties, running his fingers through your arousal. Your hips bucked upwards off the bed to meet his touch.

The pornographic moan that slipped from your mouth when his hand fully connected with your cunt sent a shiver up his spine. “Please, Josh.” You begged.

“Please, what?” He teased, his fingers lightly brushing over the bundle of nerves you’d so desperately wanted him to touch.

“Touch me, please. I need it.” You realized how desperate you sounded, but any sense shame was long gone.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He whispered. The feeling of his body hovering over you, trapping you down to the bed, was overwhelming. When his finger dipped into you, you could’ve come undone on the spot. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He said before connecting your mouths again. His fingers pumped into you at an agonizingly slow pace, the pad of his thumb brushing against your clit with every movement of his hand. He was driving you crazy.

He pulled his hand away just as you felt yourself reaching a climax. You whimpered at the loss of contact, eyes pleading with him to continue. “As pretty as you look begging for me to touch you, I’m not done with you yet.” He said, dipping his finger into his mouth to taste the wetness. He let out a soft moan as he pulled his finger from his mouth. You were throbbing, unsure how Josh had found this power over you seemingly overnight, unsure how he was this hot and you’d never noticed it before. He took one more look over your exposed body before hooking his fingers in your panties and pulling them off you completely. He kissed down your stomach, letting his lips linger just below your bellybutton.

His fingers slipped inside you once again, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from you. He resumed his pace from earlier, now letting his tongue slip over your increasingly sensitive clit. Your hands found his hair, pulling at the ends of it, completely lost in pleasure. Your hips rose from the bed, desperate for more. “That’s it, mama.” He mumbled against you, driving you crazy. “Can you cum for me?” He asked.

“Please don’t stop, Josh.” You begged, your breathing ragged.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He breathed against you. He curled his fingers upward and gave another flick of his tongue, pushing you over the edge. You clenched against his hand, slurring out a string of profanities mixed in with you crying his name. He watched you longingly as you rode out your orgasm, slowly tapering off his pace. “You make my name sound so pretty, baby.” He said pulling his boxers off and throwing them with the other discarded clothes. You admired him in the moonlight, noticing he was much larger than anyone you’d been with before.

He barely gave you time to recover before he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly thrusted into you, giving you time to adjust. You were having none of it, pushing yourself down on him and gasping when he filled you up. His eyes fluttered closed, revelling in the feeling for only a moment before he began fucking you. He started slow, but your whimpers only fuelled him further. He reached back with his hands and grabbed your knees, pushing them into your chest. You let out a yelp when he pushed himself back into you, his tip brushing against your cervix. His movement stuttered, the look of lust quickly turning into concern. “You okay?” He asked, searching your eyes for an answer.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Please keep going.” You begged. It took him no time to resume, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “Fuck, Josh!” You moaned. The sounds coming out of him were delicious. You felt your orgasm creeping up on you again.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He growled, looking down at your pleasure-ridden expression. “Look so pretty wrapped around me like this.” Your moans were desperate, never having felt this way before. You had no idea sex could be this enjoyable. You had no idea sex with Josh could be enjoyable, period.

“M’ gonna cum, Josh.” You rushed out. He let one of your legs drop back to the bed, reaching his thumb back down to swirl around your clit once more.

“Come on, Mama. Cum on my cock.” He spat. The authority in his tone was heavenly. The words alone were enough to send you over the edge, but the added sensation of the circles he’d been rubbing over your most sensitive spot sent you spiralling, clenching around him and crying out his name.

You were fucked-out; ready to be nurtured, but he wasn’t done. He slipped his arm under your ass, pulling you even closer to him. The new angle caused a new wave of pleasure to hit you. He let your other leg drop, now bringing his hand to pinch one of your nipples between his fingers. You bucked against him, unwillingly but desperately searching for another orgasm. When you met his face again, he was almost smirking at your reaction. “Can you give me one more?” He pleaded. Sweat was dripping off him, showcasing how hard he was working to give you a good time. You could tell how hard it was for him to hold back, to pause his orgasm to ensure you were satisfied. He hadn’t faltered once, needing this just as bad as you did. You managed to give him a nod. “One more, baby, you can do it.”

You were sure the neighbours woke up from the scream that tore out of you as your third orgasm took over. Your legs were shaking, your head was spinning, and the only words you could muster were his name. His hips stuttered, pausing when he bottomed out inside you. He let out a long moan as he spilled his release into you. You two stayed still, scared to move, unsure if what had just happened was real, or some sick dream.

Eventually, he pulled out slowly, causing you to sigh at the sudden emptiness. He stood and disappeared, coming back with something to wipe you clean. He collapsed back in bed beside you once he was finished, pulling you into him. You hummed at the warmth of his body, basking in the intimacy. He placed kisses over the back of your neck and shoulders, a silent thank you for the best night of his life.

“So about that boyfriend thing,” he finally spoke, humour laced in his words. You let out a soft giggle. It wasn’t long before you both drifted into sleep.

•

You woke with a startle, your phone ringing angrily from somewhere in your room. Your head was pounding and your stomach was churning. Your eyes fought hard to locate where the sound was coming from. The scattered clothes around the room took you with a shock, but not as big as the shock when you realized someone was wrapped around you. Your stomach dropped as the memories from the night prior flooded your brain. Pushing the dread away, you continued your search for your cell phone. You didn’t have time to worry about him, yet. Silently slipping out of Josh’s grasp, you tried your best not to wake him.

You were still naked, and very sore. As much as you may have regretted what happened, the thought of Josh between your legs sent a rush of emotion to the pit of your stomach. As annoying as he was, he was damn good in bed. You finally found your phone under your discarded dress, realizing you must have dropped it in the rush of last night, but by the time you picked it up it had stopped ringing. The moonlight cascaded through the bedroom window, letting you know that it wasn’t quite morning yet. Fear settled in your stomach at the realization whoever was calling probably didn’t have very good news.

You grabbed Josh’s t-shirt and threw it over your head, checking the screen of your phone to see you had multiple missed calls from your grandmother. The same fear from before seeped into your veins as you stepped into the hallway to call her back. The phone barely rang before she answered. “Nana?” You whispered, praying it was her that answered the phone.

“Hey, pumpkin,” She greeted back. You let out a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing up? It’s..” you pulled the phone away to look at your screen “like five in the morning, there.” You stated.

“It’s your mom.” You could practically hear her grimace through the phone. The panic you had before grew even larger, but a new found anger came with it. Your mother had never been your favourite person. She’d had you when she was quite young and left as soon as she could. She had no shame in sticking her responsibilities on your grandmother, who’d never once treated you like you weren’t her own daughter. The last you’d heard from your mom was when she showed up for your university graduation, high on whatever drugs she’d taken before the ceremony, and embarrassed you for the millionth time.

“Uh-huh,” you said, not certain about what she would tell you next.

“She’s sick again, I’m at the hospital now.” Sick was subject. Your grandmother never liked to admit that your mother was an addict. You always presumed that it hurt her to do so, knowing that she felt like she’d failed your mom.

“Should I come home?” Was all you asked.

“I think so, pumpkin.” The sadness dripping from her tone was more than enough of an answer.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You didn’t give her time to respond before you hung up. You went back into your room, barely glancing at the sleeping boy in your bed. You pulled a new pair of underwear on and some sweatpants, not immediately recognizing them as your own. You concluded that they must have belonged to one of your roommates, as you had to cuff them a few times just to make them the right length for your legs. ‘Lanky bastards’ you thought to yourself.

You grabbed a backpack, shoving the necessities in it, being unable to process a single thought. You were so angry at your mother. It had been a whole lifetime of broken promises, lies, and embarrassment. Multiple hospital stays and near death experiences that brought everyone to her bedside, just for her to recover and disappear again. Asking for money, begging for a place to stay, but barely ever an ‘i love you’, a thank you, or even the common decency to tell you who your father was. You hated her, hoping deep down that maybe this would be the last time, that it would all just be over, but you felt dirty for even thinking that.

A sob left your mouth as you pulled your hair back into a messy bun. You tried your best to stay silent as you pulled out your laptop out and searched for the next flight back to Michigan. You pulled your knees to your chest as you scavenged through the ticket sales, crying into the worn fabric of your pants. You found one leaving later that morning. By pure luck, you managed to get a ticket. You were unsure if you should buy a second, thinking maybe you could ask Sam or Danny to come with you. You bought it just in case you wanted company, not caring about the wasted money if you chose to go alone.

“Y/n?” A sleep-laced voice broke you from your thoughts. ‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself, wiping away your tears. “What’s going on?” Josh asked, rubbing his eyes, making a move to sit up. You refused to look at him, trying to transfer the plane tickets from your browser to your phone.

“Nothing, Josh. Go back to sleep.” You snapped, words as cold as ice. He had to stop himself from recoiling at your tone. He’d hoped that maybe after last nights events you’d finally warm up to him a bit more. He knew you held some sort of disdain for him, but he wasn’t certain why.

“Are you crying?” He ignored your statement, now standing to come over to you. He pulled on his boxers, covering himself up.

“No.” A grand lie. “Everything is fine, Josh. Just go back to sleep.” You sighed. His eyes fell on your computer screen.

“You’re going back home?” He questioned. “Today?” His heart dropped, hoping that he didn’t cause whatever you were feeling in that moment. When you didn’t answer, his anxiety grew even larger. “Did I do something?”

“No!” You finally broke, more tears falling from your eyes. “It’s my fucking mother, again!” You slammed your laptop shut, finally pulling the boarding pass up on your phone. “Just when things are going okay, when I think that maybe she’s done ruining my life, something else happens.” You choked out. Josh crouched to be eye level with you, now wide awake. “She’s in the hospital again. My grandmother says it’s not good, but they say that every time, and she always manages to bounce back. Makes everyone drop everything to run to her side, then fucking gets up and leaves and we don’t hear from her until she needs something or ends up back in the ICU!” You were pulling at your hair as you spoke, so distraught you didn’t even realize what you were saying.

Josh knew that whatever was happening was serious. Very rarely did you ever willingly tell anyone about your mother, or even really speak about her at all. He knew that you hated her, and that she was never around, but that was about it. He didn’t even know her name. As much as you were hurting, he felt his heart soften at the fact you were willing to share your troubles with him. “You know, I don’t even know where she lives, Josh. I’ve never been to my mothers house. I don’t know if she has a boyfriend, or if I have any siblings she abandoned with somebody else, or if she lives on the fucking street, or what. I don’t know her, at all.” A scoff fell from your lips as you finished. “The only time she bothers to call me is when she needs money, or somewhere to crash for the night. I don’t even have her phone number saved, because it’s a new one every time she calls.” You cried. “I was hoping when I moved here I could get away from it but she’s always going to ruin my life!”

“Mama, just take a breath-“

“I don’t even remember the last time she said she loved me. I’m tired of uprooting my entire life every time she decides to fuck up again. I don’t even want to go, but I’d feel too guilty if this time she finally decides to kick the bucket. Knowing my luck, that’s what would happen! Then I’d be the bad guy because I wouldn’t be there, that I refused to see my mother when before she died!” You were practically screaming the words. If the others hadn’t been so drunk when they returned, they likely would have woken up to your breakdown.

“Y/n,” Josh started, desperate for your attention. He was panicking. You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He took your cheeks in his hands, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs. “Baby, it’s going to be okay. I promise, everything is going to be fine. Your mom is gonna pull through, and maybe things will be different this time.” You recoiled at his statement, pushing him away from you.

“Jesus Christ, Josh!” You were furious. “Enough with the fucking positive vibes and the optimism. I cannot deal with that right now. My mother sucks, the situation is terrible, and it’s never going to change until she finally fucking dies!” You yelled. Your head was searing with a migraine and you felt like you could throw up. “I don’t understand how you always have a smile on your face, how things never go wrong for you, o-or how you always try to see the bright side of things. Sometimes, things are just shitty, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” You stood, wanting to get your bag packed and out of his company as fast as you could.

“Mama, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“And quit it with the pet names!” You snapped, tearing your phone charger out of the wall. “We fucked, that’s it. It was a drunken mistake and it will never happen again.” Josh tried to reason with himself, wanting to believe your harsh words were only because you were upset, but it felt like you had stabbed him. “I don’t understand why you’re so concerned about me. You cannot begin to understand what this feels like. I don’t think you’ve ever been anything other than happy; you have no idea what I’m going through right now. You try and console me and tell me that she’ll be okay, and it’ll all work out. Maybe I don’t want it to, maybe I just want her to fucking die, so I can leave and run away and start over. I just want to live a life that she has nothing to do with.” He was beginning to get angry now, too. “God, you always do this. You always make me feel like I’m an idiot for being upset!”

“Why I’m so concerned about you?” He shot back. “Are you that fucking blind?” You paused, unsure how to react to his words. You turned to look at him, finally willing to give him your attention. Something about Josh snapping made you realize that you might have overstepped. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I care about you, a lot. You keep shitting on me because I’m ‘always happy’ and you’ve ‘never seen me frown’ but have you ever thought about why that is?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. He took your face in his hands again, forcing you to keep eye contact with him, not even allowing you to ignore him anymore. “I am in love with you, and maybe the reason you’ve never seen me upset is because I am always happy to be around you!” You were frozen, feeling like your heart was going to explode out of your chest. “I hate seeing you sad. It kills me. So yeah, I always throw out something optimistic because I want nothing more than to make you feel better. I’m not doing it to make you feel like shit.”

Your chest ached at his words, feeling like the worst person in the world for misjudging him so badly. “Did last night really mean nothing to you?” His voice broke as he asked. In turn, it shattered your heart.

“No, of course it didn’t.” You reached up to run your thumb over his cheek, wanting to take back every mean thing you had said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m scared, and I’m hurting, and I don’t know what to do or where to go. I know it’s not an excuse, but I had no idea that you felt like that for so long.” You took a breath, searching for something in his eyes that would make you feel better like it always did. “I don’t hate you, Josh. I could never hate you. You absolutely piss me off sometimes, but I don’t know… last night when you stood up for me like that, something changed. Seeing you doing something other than smiling, hearing you say words that weren’t dripping with optimism, I dont know… made me realize that there was more to you than I ever really noticed. That you were more than this ray of sunshine in an untouchable bubble.” You had to laugh for a moment at your own words. His hands dropped from your face and grabbed you by your waist, pulling you into him. He kissed you again, gentle and more meaningful than the ones you’d shared the night before. You never wanted it to end. When he pulled away you had to stop yourself from pulling him back in.

“It scares me, Josh. Im terrified. We’ve always been so different that I never could have imagined we’d end up here, but now we are, and I don’t mind it.” You admitted. “I don’t know how to let people help me. I’m always defensive and closed off; I know I’m grumpy almost all of the time, and I wish I wasn’t, but my life has never been that nice to me. Im still waiting for the day Sammy or Danny will tell me they don’t want me here anymore. I’m not used to good things lasting, and I’m so scared that if anything happens, I’ll lose all of you. Hell, everything is fine and I’m still always scared I’m going to lose you guys.” You confessed. His eyes softened.

“You could never lose us.” He soothed your worry. “You could never lose me, that’s for sure.” He said, pulling you into his chest. You rested there for a moment, feeing at peace in all of the chaos. “All I ever wanted to do was make you happy. I still want that, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m so scared, Josh.” You whispered, reiterating what you had told him earlier. You were terrified, but also painstakingly curious about what it would be like. You wanted to know what it was like to love him, and to be loved by him. Really, genuinely loved. You wanted to know him, the little things that you’d always overlooked. You found yourself yearning to be held by him, for some sort of comfort. For once, you weren’t annoyed at the thought of his optimistic words, you almost wanted him to say them, to soothe you with them. “I’m terrified of everything right now. I don’t even know what to do.”

“Just let me be here, then. Let me help you through it.”

“Okay,” you whispered. His hands were burning into you. You could feel the emotion radiating through his skin. “I think that you already make me happy.” You told him. He pulled you tighter to him, if it was even possible. “I mean, I’ve been with people, but I’ve never felt anything like I did last night. Even now, when everything feels like it’s falling apart, you’re with me and it doesn’t feel hopeless like it always does.” He placed his lips to the top of your head. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent. The cologne he put on last night was still lingering on him.

“What time does your flight leave, mama?” He whispered.

“Eleven.” You answered, not daring to open your eyes or move away from him.

“Think I can still get a seat beside you?” He asked. You looked up at him, tears starting again. As if you already knew how this would end up, you remembered the second ticket you’d bought. Still, you felt guilty asking him to do something like that for you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You shook your head. “It’s too much.”

“I want to.” He assured you, tucking your stray hairs behind your ear. “What kind of guy would I be if I let my girl deal with something like this all by herself?” You heart fluttered at his words, swelling with affection. You never wanted anyone to be a part of your mess. You wouldn’t even talk to Sam about it. Danny pried bits and pieces of your troubles from you, but never enough to know the full story. But with Josh in front of you, touching you with so delicately, saying the words you always wanted to hear from somebody, you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted him to come with you, even if it was selfish.

“Okay.” You agreed.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked, his thumb and forefinger bringing you chin up to look at him. You nodded. “Then I’m all in. I’ll be here until the day you don’t want me here anymore, Mama. I promise.”

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hummingbee-o0o · 24 days

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Picking Lint off the Sofa, chapter 2/2

(obviously, I forgot to make a post, as always)

Jesus Christ, the twink thing is true.

Sarah has seen the pictures; she’s seen the tabloids and the social media and the assorted bits and pieces of online gossip, so she should have been ready for it. But it’s one thing to see it in the pictures, with clickbait sensationalism and plausible deniability, and it’s entirely another to see it in the flesh and sitting on the sofa next to her father, with the sort of relaxed closeness that just screams ‘steady relationship’.

It’s weird, and it was weird before she and Lauren even came in through the door.

First off, Dad’s new address is fancy as hell. A pre-war walkable neighbourhood of brick row houses, the sort of place that used to be working class but now goes for seven digits. She knew Dad made some crazy money off his weird vampire erotica book, because he said as much when he sent her and Lauren some pretty substantial money (Daniel Molloy’s semi-regular World’s Sorriest Dad bank transfer in lieu of parenting skills), but holy shit.

And it only gets weirder from there.

Setting aside the doormat with a cartoon bat on it that says ‘unwelcome’, they’re here after dark, because apparently Dad’s new Parkinson’s treatment has him living on some fucked-up schedule. And, you know, then there’s the issue of how you’re supposed to greet your father when you’re checking in on him because everything about his recent behaviour screams either dementia or drug relapse.

“I bet it’s crack,” Lauren mutters while Sarah rings the doorbell. “He’s off the wagon again.”

“We don’t know that,” Sarah instinctively clings to optimism. “I mean, probably. But we don’t know that.”

“Well, sure, it could also be dementia. I think I prefer the drugs.”

Sarah is just about to respond when the door opens.

“Um… hello?” she says, looking at the astonishingly beautiful (and young) man in the doorway.

The man smiles, and it’s somehow both warm and a little alien, like an entomologist spotting a bug. It’s probably the eyes, because holy smokes, his eyes are basically amber. Amber and beautiful. Jesus Christ, he’s so beautiful. Do camera lenses shatter when he has his picture taken?

“Hello,” he says in a smooth, slightly lilting voice. “You must be Lauren and Sarah.”

“Uh, yeah,” says Lauren, also staring at the man, because they’ve seen him in some paparazzi snaps, but now he’s… here. Very here. And very twinky.

There’s a thundering of hurried footsteps, and Dad appears in the hallway.

“Girls, hi,” he says, slipping an arm around the twink’s waist. “Come in, come in.”

(read the whole thing on AO3)

#IwtV #IwtV fic #armandaniel #Armand #Daniel Molloy #o0o writes

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its-in-the-woods · 2 months

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The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 9

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Synopsis: “I don’t know if I can lose someone again.”

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout expect typical horror as well as: Blo0d, G0re, Death, Bodily injury, mentions of SH, death, drugs use, soft!cooper, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, Dead dove,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*thank you to everyone that reads <3 You all make the world go round. I've really fallen in love with this story

The next two outposts were the same burnt outside, body parts, and not much else. The third one left Cooper feeling frustrated as they went over the whole place trying to find something worthwhile. Food, water, and chems were low. They could probably go a few more days, but it was making his fingers itch. He didn’t like to run low on anything, as it would mean withdrawals, withdrawals lead to going feral. He glances over at Jade, he was not going feral. No. They’d figure this out, or he’d off himself before that happened.

Jade had started lifting floorboards around a desk, the woman was convinced something was under the floor. Ghoul was less optimistic, it wasn’t the first time she’d torn into a wall or floor thinking there might be more behind it. Jade hadn’t said much about whatever was happening, she’d curl up against him at night, and while they walked she’d occasionally hold his hand. She’d kissed him a couple of times too, it left him feeling slightly dizzy, the world didn’t feel so dark with her in it. She was a vicious killing machine when it called for, but also full of ridiculous optimism. How? He didn’t try to understand. The more he learned about her life the more he questioned why she kept going. Why did anyone keep going? Jade just wanted to live, she lived for each day, and each morning. Somehow grateful that she got to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“Yes!” He hears her call out, taking him out of his thoughts. She had dropped down below the floor, just her hand sticking up out of the hole she jumped into. “Chems!”

The Ghoul moves over looking down into the dark hole. Jade had a big smile on her dirt-covered face shaking the case of chems above her head like she’d struck gold. He reached down, grabbing the box before placing them on the old table. Opening it up, six bottles of his chem, he couldn’t help the small smile tug on his lips.

“Hell yah,” He says, turning to look back down at her, there were half a dozen or so crates scattered over the basement. She was going through each carefully, a small stack of cans beside her, some water purifying tablets.

“Start passing stuff up’er, Pip-Squeak.” Cooper leaning down, she turns face to him, now covered in more dust and dirt. She grabbed a few things wrapping them up in her coat to hand to the man.

“Think we should be good for a little while now,” Jade smiles at him, he couldn’t help the way his heart twitches seeing her grinning. She looks at him like the sun revolves around him, eyes lit up like fire.

“Grab whatever else, then we should get you outta here, don't know what could be down there.” He states, squatting down to hand her the jacket again.

After one more load, he helps Jade out from under the floor, they are both covered in dirt. Jade was over the moon with her small find, “This should keep us supplied until we get to the next town. God I hope we get to -”

A click of a gun had Cooper whirling his own gun up, as he turns to face the two men who stand in the doorway. He fires at them, his other hand pushing Jade down, he hears her drop as gunfire goes off. His gun blasts a hole in one of the men, the man falls as the other blasts scattershot. The shot hitting the Ghoul in the chest, but that didn’t stop him, instead the Ghoul was already aiming his gun at the man. The blast coming out and blowing the man's hand clear off. Another shot from outside hit the Ghoul's side, Jade standing up beside him firing at the man. Her speed and accuracy were no match for the other man as he was hit by both of them. The one man was dead on the floor, the other screaming holding the stump of his hand up. The man outside had chunks out of him but was taking off. Cooper was already at the door grabbing the man and dragging him back to the door. Jade stood over the blood-covered man as he begged her to end it.

“Why are you here!” She yells at him, Cooper slamming the other man’s blood body beside the door. The other man was coughing and sputtering blood all over the ground as he oozed.

“There’s a bounty on you two,” The man sobs, his face starting to go pale as blood gushes out of him. He wouldn’t be long for this world, not without them fixing up his stump, which isn't going to happen.

“A bounty huh,” The Ghoul said, crouching in front of him, watching him try to squirm away from his gaze.

“You killed the wrong guy's brother, Ghoul,” The man beside the door choked out, blood foaming down his face. His eyes were going in and out of focus, words more a slur than speak.

“Whose brother!” Jade gritted, her hand grabbing stumpy's stump and pushing a finger in.

The man howled, “Stop, please. Please no more.” He whimpered tears covering his dirt-smeared face. “Joel, Joel Pedro. Dom Pedro’s brother, you dumb cunt.”

Jade looked up at the Ghoul, the two immediately recognizing the name. The ghoul handed her a knife, she took the knife and cut his throat, blood squirting out as he sputtered and choked.

The Ghoul had a foot on the other man pressing it down into its chest, the man wailing as he pushed on it, “Who the fuck is Dom Predo?”

The man shrivels back, squirming in his own icker. “He’s coming for yah Ghoul. He’s going to take you and the experiment girl alive.”

Cooper shot him without hesitation, the splash of blood on the doorway dripping down. Jade stood there with a confused look on her face, before moving towards the bodies, digging around in pockets. She pulls out a sheet of paper, unfolds it, and holds it up to the Ghoul.

His face sans hat was on there, and beside him was a poorly done drawing of Jade. Both drawings were half-assed but it was clearly them. A large bounty for them both found alive, less if they were dead. A bit more info was below, they were to be brought to the southern west coast. Details were sparse but it was enough to give them a direction.

“Well fuck, looks like you got your first bounty on your head, Tiny” The Ghoul states before he folds up the paper and puts it back into his pocket. Trying not to think too hard on the fact that Jade was now in danger because of him.

“First? You’ve had this happen before?” Jade pushes, Cooper shrugging as he starts to go over the dead men. He had lost track of how many times someone had wanted his head on a platter, it never ended well for the ones looking for him. You didn’t stay alive for this long without killing a few fellas.

“Won’t be doin’ good if I wasn’t on the boards myself,” He said, grabbing a good bag of caps from one of the men, they’d be well stocked now. The Ghoul pondering a change of course now that there was a bounty on their heads.

“How’d they know it was us?” Jade asks, pulling out some ammo and pocketing it. Her pants and bag were already heavily weighed down by her findings.

“Always someone watching, could have been someone in one of the towns or outposts that recognized you.” He replies, fishing out a couple vials of chem, as well as another inhaler. Never hurt to have a spare one or three. The old saying, ‘One is none, and two is one’, came to mind.

Jade sitting back on her heels looking at the mess, “I wish I could remember their faces, at least we could avoid them then.”

The Ghoul watching her, he could see the wheels turning in her head, he got up and went to her. Crouching beside Jade to look at the body, really what was left of the body.

“Look’er, I can give you some bullshit 'bout how it’s gonna be okay. That they’ll never catch us dead or alive. But I know you Jade, you’ve seen this world for what it is. It ain’t gonna get better, you decided to follow me. You decided to jump down that creature's throat. We both know that chances of us makin’ it to the other side unscared, much less alive, is low.” He states, he didn’t know why he needed a speech, but it felt right. “Now ya can try and dig those memories up, to make sense of it’ll. But I’ve been wandering this bullshit for two hundred years, and most memories that’re gone are best left gone.”

Jade looked at him, brown eyes watching him before she stands up and stretches, audible pops as she moves. “I think that’s the most words you’ve said to me.”

The Ghoul huffed, “Yeah, you're welcome, Pip-Squeak. Good it gets me.” He rolls his shoulder under the duster grabbing his bag, hoping that maybe some of the words crept into that thick skull of hers.

Jade has a small smile as she goes back into the building rummaging through the last dead body. “Well, it does get you a bunch of Chems, and a good amount of caps. I am not a completely useless sidekick”

She jingled the cap and held out the chems, the Ghoul took them. Letting his hand linger on her fingers a little longer. Watching as her cheeks go a little pink, the girl had just killed three people with him and was now blushing at the touch of his glove. Maybe he was still stuck in the forest somewhere living in a daydream.

“Think we should head south at the next intersection.” He said as he stashes the bottles in his bag, Jade doing the same thing, making sure all their loot was tucked away.

“Why south?” Jade asks, closing up her own bag. The Ghoul was grateful to see her not wincing when she shifted it onto her back. He had taken out the stitches at the second outpost. Most of her bruises and cuts are now gone, but he'd catch her every now and again wincing in pain. “Thought we would be heading west?”

The Ghoul pulls out the paper that had their bounty on it. Rereading the words.“Want to know more about this fella. Dom Pedro. So we know what we are walking into.”

“Walking into?” Jade pries, as she walks over to him. “Are we planning on going after him?”

“Won't be who I was if I ran from every slimsnake that wanted my head.” He clicked his tongue, standing up and taking a hit of chem, the numbness easing his mind. “I know of a small town that should be able to get us some information. If you're game?”

Jade shrugs, looking around the place, before back at him. “Don't got any other plans.”

They continued west until they hit a crossroads, the beat-to-hell pavement more sand and gravel than the once black tarmac. Jade stands beside her companion watching him look at the different directions. His eyes squinting, head tipping as he listens. His senses were much sharper than hers, he often stop to do just this. Listen, look, smell, and take stock of what is around them. Since the forest incident, he had been extra cautious about anywhere they went. Constantly making her stay somewhere so he could scope it out. Jade would have called it annoying, but really she knew he was just trying to keep her safe.

As he turns she saw the wreckage of the scattershot he had taken. Grimacing a little at the wounds, she hopes he’d let her dig them out. It had to be painful, right? He finally faces south, squirting down the way.

“What is it?” Jade finally asks, trying to see what he could. She moves to stand right behind him, shifting the weight of her bag on her shoulders. Regretting having taken those extra cans of cram, the bag's weight pressing down on her tender joints.

The Ghoul huffs, rolling his shoulders, “I am not sure, something feels wrong.” Jade tried to let her senses feel out, when she had been in the forest she had felt the strangest, the wrongness of the place. Here though, it didn’t feel any different than any of the other trails they’d been on.

Jade shifts her weight onto her other foot. The thought that they could be going down another fucked up forest trail was not high on her to-do list. “Can we not go that way?” She gestures towards the western trail.

He turns to her, looking to where she is pointing. “You scared now pip-squeak? Thought you went on instinct.”

Jade rolls her eyes at him, at the moment her instincts are dull. She had blamed it on the many stimpaks and med-x shots she’d taken, but standing there she wondered if it was something else. “Instinct would like me to live, not go through another monster-being-dropped-on-my-head forest walk,” Jade replies sarcastically, trying not to let the fear creep into her voice.

The Ghoul let out a wheezing cough of laughter, a crooked smile on his face, “Yeah, I would rather not carry your dead weight around.” Jade gives him a dirty look at the comment, “We should keep going West then, it will be a bit roundabout.”

“Roundabout, but alive sounds better than, straightforward and dead.” Jade sighs, turning towards the western path. She is about ten steps down the road before realizing he hasn’t moved yet, “You losin' it, old man.”

The Ghoul turns towards her, eyes covered by the shade of his hat. “Dotcha think it’s a little odd, how everytime we try to go in a directions somethin is standin in our way?”

Jade shrugs again, she hadn’t really thought about it that much. Really she hadn’t thought further than the next place they slept. Was it weird? Maybe, but this was the Wastes, and it wasn’t uncommon to run into issues.

“It’s really only the one time?” Jade said, walking back over to him. “Not like we’ve been traveling for months here.”

“Fifteen days,” The Ghoul said, still staring down the southern path. Jade standing beside him, wondering why he had kept track of how many days. Maybe it was an old-world way she didn’t understand.

“If you really want to go south, we can,” Jade states, yeah she was not really up for another battle, but she wasn’t going anywhere without him either. Sense dulled or not, she couldn’t imagine being alone out here. The realization that she is heavily relying on him, made her heart clench. Did he even feel the same way? Was this a hint that they would be splitting?

The Ghoul turns to her, his hazel eyes looking over her face. Jade held his eye contact, wishing he would just tell her what he was thinking instead of staring at her. The silence was always so much worse than the arguing.

“Well, let’s go,” He said, moving past her down the western trail, in a flurry of material swishing behind him.

Jade’s shoulders slump as she follows him, working hard to keep up with his long-legged pace. Wondering why he had decided to move at the speed of sound all of sudden. She thought about his comment, about how there always seemed to be something in their way.

“What did you mean back there,” She finally asks, “About something being in our way?”

The Ghoul was quiet, Jade’s boots echoing around them as they moved. Jade stops, waiting for the Ghoul to do the same. He turns back looking at her, she still couldn’t make out the expression on his face. Maybe this was it, he had finally decided he was done carrying her dead weight.

“What?” He asks, throwing his hands up. “We're going West, will go around. Save us the headache of finding another critter.”

“What do you mean what?” Jade asks, “You were standing there like you were contemplating the meaning of life instead of which direction we should go."

“Just doesn’t feel right is all.” Ghoul huffs, making as if he is going to leave but doesn’t move much. Instead pacing back and forth. “We should.” He swallows, looking away towards the trees. “I can’t,”

Jade is moving towards him, but he is still staring off face covered in shadow. “What is it? Is this ‘cause of the bounty? Thought you said this wasn’t uncommon?”

“It’s not safe traveling with me. Yah got a bounty on your head, you almost got killed. Cause you are following me.” The last words are so quiet she almost doesn’t hear them, his shoulders drawn up like he was trying to hide himself away from her.

Jade stands in front of him, seeing the pain in his eyes makes her heartache. The holes in his chest had mostly stopped bleeding, but would need to be tended to. At the moment his mind was what needed tending. She reaches up to touch his face, but he moves away from her touch.

“Stop it.” He says, the words holding no venom, he takes a step back from her. Jade wasn’t having it, moving backward with him.

“Me? Stop it?” Jade cusses, “You think I can’t make my own choices?” This time when she reaches for him she pushes him backwards. He barely moves, head tipped down, not looking at her. “Treating me like a child.” Jade is now raising her voice, “I am here, following you. Cause I want to be here.” She shoves him again, “My life has been a living hell for years, and the last however many fuckin days, have been some of the best ones. Even if the monster almost killed me.”

She goes to shove him again, the Ghoul is grabbing both her wrists holding them in iron-like vices. He pushes her back, she stumbles until her back hits a tree with a thump. Thankful that her backpack cushions it. Jade’s hands are pinned against the branch, the Ghoul is right in her face, eyes lit like fire as he glares down at her. Jade's Heart pounding in her chest as his eyes flow over her face.

“You are so frustrating,” He growls at her, Jade staring right back at him with just as much venom, “I can’t keep you safe forever.”

Jade grits her teeth, struggling against his grip, knowing she most likely won’t break free. But there was no way in hell she was going down easily. “I am not asking you to. You vacuum-sealed raisin.”

A small smile twitches his lips at her insult, “Look who's talking, smooth skin.”

Then he leaned down and pressing his lips against hers. Jade froze for a moment, brain trying to figure out how they went from arguing to kissing. Pushing that out of her mind, she pushes back, the bridge of his nose bumping against hers, the warm brush of air as he breathes out. Her whole body reacts when he opens his mouth and sucks her lip into his, keening as she pushes her body against his. Feeling her wrists being let go, his hands traveled down her body, pulling her close. She reached down and held his face, his rough skin under her hands, feeling each scar and mark. Trying to remember the way they felt and how he tastes, all of it.

As suddenly as it started it stopped, the Ghoul pulling away, resting his forehead against hers, hat shading both of them. Their breath mixes as they try and catch it, hearts thundering under their clothes.

“I don’t need you to save me,” Jade whispers, opening her eyes so she can see him. Feeling how his brow furrows at the words. “I just need you with me. For however long we get.” His breath is evening out, eyes still closed, Jade wishing he would look at her. “Please, I don’t know how long I will get. But I’d rather spend it with you.”

She hears him swallowing, his hand coming to cover the sides of her face. “I don’t know if I can lose someone again.”

The hurt in his voice had Jade wrapping her arms around him, hugging him close to her body. Feeling him tremble a little as she held on, refusing to let go of him. She didn’t care about anything else but holding onto him. Holding onto a man, who had seen every part of his world destroyed. Lost family, friends, and more to this horrid wasteland.

“I will follow you, wherever you go. Until this world of ours ends,” Jade whispers, holding him tight for a moment more.

Part 10

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated. It helps more people find me <3

*Updating one a week depending, please note my schedule is getting hectic but I will continue to update! Please be patient with me

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

@dionneroyal49

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mollymagician · 8 months

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Helllooo so, reading certain fun posts over at @gabessquishytum ‘s place got me thinking of one of my fave movies and like—

Dream spent years trapped by social expectations in an unhappy and unwanted marraige with Alex Burgess, ignored and withdrawn into his own little world. He has his greenhouse and his bizarre prize-winning hybrid roses, his unpublished forever-not-quite-finished manuscripts, and that’s enough, he thinks.

Until Alex kicks the proverbial bucket and Dream learns that the Burgess family fortune has been so badly mismanaged, he’s inherited nothing from his late husband but a drafty old mansion sitting on a pile of debt.

The creditors are closing in and Dream…hates the house. He always hated it. But dammit, spite is a hell of a drug. He hates his family as much as he ever hated Alex and Fawney Rig, and he refuses to be kicked out of his own home. He needs a source of income, asap.

Luckily his gardener Matthew has pot plants growing in the hedges and more optimism than sense. Win win!

Pretty soon there’s A Lot More than prizewinning roses growing in Dream’s greenhouse. A lot more. Dream must have some sort of eldrich gardening powers, because this stuff is insanely potent and is also growing out of control. They need to find some way to unload this crop, and fast. Dream needs money. The authorities are getting suspicious. Matthew doesn’t want to go to prison. The whole town knows. So off they head towards the big city to try to find a buyer.

And find a buyer they do!

Hob Gadling isn’t…exactly a crime lord. He’d never describe himself that way. He’s just a creatively savvy businessman. And he’s never been more entertained by ANYONE more than he is by this gorgeous and charmingly awkward lunatic who’s somehow wandered into his little seedy underworld with a gardener and the weirdest story that he’s ever heard. He’s head over heels, instantly. And he’s determined to keep Dream out of trouble, if not just because Dream’s wildly delicious, than at least because Hob firmly believes that no one should go to jail for objectively funny crimes.

…I’m just trying to decide who it is in this version of the story that ends up on the floor, stoned out of their mind, eating cereal out of the box and wearing googly-eye glasses. Please watch this movie, for that scene ALONE.

…The gardener in the film’s actually named Matthew and I tend to envision my Sandman-verse human!Matthew based on the Matthew from this flick. Though Grace’s gardener!Matthew was actually Scottish. (The trying-pot-for-the-first-time scene works just as well with Dream looking at Matthew, blurting out “…you’re American!” and then laughing like a lunatic.)

…After the Whole Incident At The End That No One In Town Can Remember, Dream and Hob rename Fawney Rig to Fiddler’s Green, Dream publishes his novels, and of course they rebuild the greenhouse. Bigger this time. And everyone lives happily ever after.

#Dreamling #the sandman netflix #dreamling au #Saving Grace #hob gadling #dream of the endless #wild au speculation #I need to replace my dvd of this flick #before I can even attempt to write this

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stardustprompts · 2 years

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house of ashes - the dark pictures anthology sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; language , war , death , drug mention , religion mention

‘I don’t know where i’d be without you.’

‘don’t you think it’s about time you came clean?’

‘all’s fair in love and war.’

‘I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.’

‘with all due respect, I think that’s the wrong call.’

‘quit being a bitch!’

‘I’ve got a real bad feeling about this.’

‘I wish you’d reconsider.’

‘it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.’

‘not a day went by when you weren’t on my mind.’

‘I’ve missed you so much, (name).’

‘how we left it ... things weren’t so great between us.’

‘we’ve been through worse. a lot worse.’

‘I wish I shared your optimism.’

‘you wanna ask me something. I can tell by the look on your face.’

‘you’re fucking with me.’

‘you got any other surprises you wanna drop on me?’

‘that’s gotta be about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘I don’t know about you guys but something doesn’t feel right about this place.’

‘so is that this women’s intuition I keep hearing about?’

‘I don’t believe in curses, the tooth fairy, or santa clause.’

‘fuck. we’re so fucked.’

‘I won’t do it. this is not right.’

‘stay the hell away from me.’

‘you better not miss.’

‘you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’

‘I fucking knew it. I knew you weren’t ready for this.’

‘you didn’t see shit!’

‘I flunked history at school.’

‘tell me you don’t feel something...’

‘I don’t feel shit.’

‘we need to get out of here right now!’

‘you want the good version or the bad version?’

‘what the hell are you? what do you want from me?’

‘are you okay? are you hurt?’

‘I’m pretty good at looking after myself.’

‘I guess we could classify this as ‘quality time’.’

‘doesn’t this remind you of old times, (name)?’

‘maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.’

‘after you left, I learned to deal with pressure.’

‘do you not watch horror movies?’

‘you didn’t hear that?’

‘I didn’t hear anything.’

‘you can’t blame yourself.’

‘we’ve both made mistakes.’

‘I didn’t make it easy on you, (name). I know that.’

‘I don’t think either of us expected to be out of each other’s lives for so long.’

‘I’ve missed you, like you wouldn’t believe.’

‘maybe there’s hope for us after all.’

‘there you go, reading my mind again.’

‘you always were a good guy. maybe too good for me.’

‘I want you back, (name).’

‘we were pretty damn good together.’

‘I know you better than you think, (name).’

‘admit it, there’s someone else, isn’t there?’

‘give ‘em hell, buddy.’

‘you gotta stop struggling!’

‘do you believe in god?’

‘you wouldn’t believe me even if I tried. hell, I don’t believe and I was there.’

‘come on, you’re jumping at shadows!’

‘whatever you think you’ve seen, it’s bullshit.’

‘take a mental picture and snap the fuck out of it!’

‘you got us into this mess, you better get us out.’

‘you wanna repeat that? that’s what I thought.’

‘I’m not sure of anything anymore.’

‘in battle, these things are often difficult to judge.’

‘are you on fucking drugs?!’

‘we’ve lost enough today.’

‘we can get through this, but only together.’

‘I’ve seen their weakness. they burn in sunlight.’

‘like any living being, they can be killed. a stake through the heart.’

‘we do this together, okay?’

‘what the fuck are we up against?’

‘never before have I ever seen anything so vicious.’

‘do you believe in demons?’

‘if you had asked me that before, I’d have laughed in your face.’

‘like you, I also never believed. but look around you.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you!’

‘there’s no point in fighting. not anymore.’

‘after all we’ve been through? thanks a lot!’

‘we fought it together and we won.’

‘I hope you’re a believer. when those things come back, you’re going to need a higher power to pray to.’

‘if I gotta fight these things, there’s no one else I would want by my side.’

‘cut the bullshit, (name). I know you and I know you care.’

‘trust me, you wanna get that shit out in the open.’

‘why is it that no one ever tells it straight? everyone just makes up bullshit to get by.’

‘if we die down here? maybe that’s what we deserve.’

‘‘fuck’ doesn’t even start to cover it.’

‘there’s no such thing as luck.’

‘do you mind?’

‘I’m glad you’re here.’

‘how did I know you were going to say that?’

‘gee, thanks, (name). you ever think about going into motivational speaking?’

‘that’s gotta be about the dumbest question I have ever been asked.’

‘I guess I just wanted to let go. you know, be someone new.’

‘you think it bothers me what they call me? i wear that shit like a fucking badge of honor.’

‘you and I... we’re not so different.’

‘please. please don’t leave me down here alone.’

‘don’t quit on me now!’

‘truth is so overrated.’

‘if you turn, it won’t be you I’m killing.’

‘I know you can do it, (name). you just have to have hope!’

‘you’re screwed enough as it is! if you stay with me, there’s no hope for you at all.’

‘(name) could lose his own ass if it wasn’t pinned on him.’

‘embrace the suck.’

‘you follow me, or you stay here and rot.’

‘it’s good to see you, (name). I thought we lost you.’

‘that’s not (name) anymore.’

‘you worthless pile of shit!’

‘the enemy of the enemy is our friend!’

‘well this looks like the worst place in the goddamn world.’

‘I don’t mean you any harm. I swear.’

‘honestly? I’m just glad to see a human face.’

‘my father once told me that if something looks like shit, and it smells like shit, you don’t have to taste it to know that it’s shit!’

‘I think you need to give your mouth a rest.’

‘every time you say something smart, you follow it with something dumb.’

‘hope is all we got left.’

‘funny how you can know someone for years and never really know them.’

‘a time will come when you will deeply regret this manner.’

‘I don’t carry regrets.’

‘it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.’

‘not exactly honeymoon material, is it?’

‘my sole objective, (name), is to make you happy. doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re going through, I’ll always put a smile on your face.’

‘I thought I lost you!’

‘thanks for looking out for me.’

‘I can’t pretend like this didn’t happen.’

‘I still love you, (name).’

‘I knew you would always be there for me.’

‘I wanna try us again.’

‘I can’t turn my back on my past.’

‘if I didn’t give you a chance, I’d always regret it.’

‘you fucking deserve each other.’

‘I can’t end up like this.’

‘we are being judged. god is punishing us all for the mistakes we’ve made.’

‘we all have our reasons, they don’t have to be profound.’

‘I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing here.’

‘I can hear you thinking.’

‘start believing, (name). we’re gonna get out of here and see the sun again.’

‘we’ll stand together. it’s the only way.’

‘in this place, everything’s possible.’

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘keep your head clear of everything but the task ahead. it’s the only way we’ll live.’

‘secrets keep you sick.’

‘if you need me, I’m here for you.’

‘I’ll always love you.’

‘you’ve come to join the fun.’

‘we’re not out of the woods yet. but what I see in front of me, you’re the best. fuck that, the best of the best.’

‘there’s too many of them!’

‘it’s been interesting knowing you.’

‘you’re late and you look like shit.’

‘I’m going to make sure those things stay buried in that hellhole where they belong!’

‘I’ll have to live with that.’

‘I learned not to rely on anyone but myself. I was stronger than all of them.’

‘I’ll never get used to this job.’

#rp memes #rp sentence starters #rp prompts #video game sentence starters #video game prompts #supermassive games prompts #supermassive games sentence starters #house of ashes sentence starters #house of ashes prompts #vampire sentence starters #vampire prompts

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304blur · 11 months

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secretary from hell!

pairing: yandere!assistant!geto suguru x fem!ceo!reader

warning(s): possessive suguru, he's two faced, manipulative, mentions of drugging and drug addiction, and reader's mature but naïve, suguru pretends to be a warm and caring figure, misogynistic ex secretary of reader's dad, geto is his age (28) and reader is 25

plot: after your father, the ex-ceo of takamitsu tech passed, you took over the company as ceo. finding out how the business world works is stressful, but geto suguru would help you through all that.

"i simply cannot accept that a sheltered, uneducated heir would take over this company, let alone a spoiled woman who doesn't know how business works."

after your father passed, the entire company was in your hands. it was a struggle, after all, he passed away so suddenly, and the company's partners and investors despised the idea of a woman being a ceo of one of the largest company in japan, and your father was considered a business genius, he saved this company from bankruptcy, and created a steady flow of profit. he was a successful businessman, and you were expected to live up to him. and for you, living up to the genius that was your father, was impossible. but it didn't hurt to try. but right now, your optimism is at rock bottom. your father's secretary, mr. nakamura, is insulting you. he's quite the misogynistic old geezer, and his head is stuck in the past. you rub your temples, as your head is starting to ache, due to how loud the guy is.

"women are completely incapable of understanding business, because they're not suited for a leading role where a man is supposed to be at. you should step down, right now, and let your younger brother do the man's work."

you suddenly stand up, angered by his comments.

"my brother is still in middle school, mr. nakamura. you must understand he is not capable of taking over, and your remarks are simply unforgivable, as your employer, i'm utterly disappointed by your behavior, and i'm sure my father, who might be watching right above us right now, probably is disappointed too, since he trusted you with his work, and now you're outright insulting his daughter. if you dislike me so much, i suggest you leave this building, right now."

you slam your desk, pointing to the exit of your office. mr. nakamura decided to leave your office, with a gloomy face. you sat back down, sighing. being a capable independent woman sure isn't easy. a few days later, mr. nakamura sent his resignation papers through an employee he was close with. you approved his resignation, and let him go, and now you need a proper assistant, to welcome a new chapter in your life. you let everyone and their mothers know that you were looking for an assistant who can understand the business world and its' complex systems. only one person applied, and that is, your middle school ex boyfriend, and currently the heir of geto innovations, your company's rival. well, not anymore. his father was arrested for tax evasion, and abuse of his position as ceo. geto innovations is doomed, and the heir, and the company's only hope, has come to apply as a secretary of their rival company. he fidgets with his suit, and he had his hair slicked back, he's sporting a bright smile, with dark circles under his eyes.

"suguru, quite a surprise.. why are you here?"

you look at him with one eyebrow raised. you knew him to be a smart guy. you dated for 2 months in middle school, and you didn't do anything crazy, just holding hands, going on dates. but suguru broke up with you, after getting reprimanded by his parents. he lights up, and replies.

"you still remember my name? so you must miss me!"

suguru chuckles, lifting a hand to his chin. you snicker at him, showing him his application papers, and waved it around.

"your name's on this paper, by the way. but i didn't forget your name, just your face."

you sighed, you didn't have a choice but to accept him, since you don't have any more time to look for someone else, and since suguru might be able to help you. you looked around your desk, and let out a little 'aha!' when you found your special little 'approved' stamp. you gently tap the stamp on the surface of suguru's application paper, and his face seemed to glow with happiness.

"you start tomorrow, good luck, suguru."

you smiled, and he was dismissed from the office. the day ended, and tomorrow is a new day, with a new secretary. you rode in your car, the city lights gleaming and glowing, the light of the vibrant and eye-catching signs and giant tvs with ads reflect onto the road, giving the usually black asphalt some color. you arrive to your family's estate, your maids greet you at the door, some asking how your day went, some informing you about your brother. you walked upstairs, the head maid notified you that she ran a bath for you already. you open the door to your brother's room, to find him studying. it's 11pm, he shouldn't be up this late. you pull the earbuds out of his ear to scold him.

"hey, mr. shuuya (ln), don't work too hard or i'll cut off your allowance. go to bed."

he just glared at you, and took back his earbud from your hands. he replied, with his mechanical pencil pointed against his cheek.

"you're saying that like you didn't stay up till 4am when you studied?"

after further observation, you saw that he's studying modern japanese. and majority of his mock quiz answers were right. as expected of your intelligent little brother. you were also guilty of staying up to study, but this little guy takes it a step further. he studied his weekends away, staying up from saturday to sunday. you ruffle his hair, and prepared to leave his room, you peeked your head through the gap of his door, and yelled.

"i mean it when i say i'm cutting off your allowance."

"good morning!"

suguru brought over a cup of coffee, the kind of coffee you liked. he knew the basics of how to manage a large corporation, and he was willing to show you the ropes, an odd decision, because he was even insisting he would share his father's advice for a successful business. he was reliable, cheerful, and warm. even your other employees seemed to like him. it didn't take you long to adjust to his personality, since he's so charismatic, and alluring. he was kind enough to take on most of your work, to let you rest, and drink your coffee. you sipped on the liquid gold that we humans call coffee, you looked over to suguru's office that was connected to yours, and he raised his head, to give you a little smile. god, he was just so charming to you. strangely, the coffee wasn't working, you were typing away at your computer, and your eyes were glued to the monitor. you looked at your watch, and realized it was 7pm. you peeked at suguru's office, and noticed he was getting ready to leave. he brightened onced he met your eyes.

"ah, (yn)! i was about to go over there and tell you that we're supposed to leave now."

he smiled, as he guided you to the elevator, stopping to let you in first. what a gentleman.. you arrived at the ground floor, and just before you were about to say goodbye to him when your ride arrived, he took your hand, and placed a kiss upon it.

"See you tomorrow."

he closed the car door, and waved you goodbye. your face turned red immediately, his eyes squinting into crescent moons. you really need some good sleep tonight. it doesn't matter if you're taking, like, 30 melatonin gummies, as long as you pass out and not think about him all night. you pass by shuuya's room, too distracted by what happened earlier. you flop onto your bed, still wearing working clothes. you stare at your window, the peacefulness of your neighborhood, and the A/C blasting to immediately sleep, and float off to dreamland, your sleeping situation strangely and completely contrasting your prediction from a few minutes ago. you were sound asleep. hours pass by, the morning rays softly grace your face, feeling that tingly and warm sensation on your skin, you wake up. you took a while to adjust your vision, and you realized your room was a mess. you were pretty organized, and you usually wouldn't leave the room like this, and shuuya wouldn't even attempt to go in your room, since he already knows there isn't anything interesting in there. you shrug it off, maybe you forgot to clean, or something. it was dark when you got in last night, that's why you only noticed this morning. you looked at your wall clock, and realized, it was 8am, you were about 2 hours late to work. you decided to go with the outfit you wore yesterday, you hurridly brushed your hair, deodorant, and perfume, to hide the smell you're going to develop later in the day. you open the door, and the maids greet you with a smile, but you rushed passed all of them, and you exited your estate, you looked at your driver, polishing up the car.

"mr. kikuchi! i'm so sorry to keep you waiting, oh my gosh. please take me to the company building, and take the quickest route there."

"i shall get you there at once, ma'am."

he opened the car door for you, and he got in the driver's seat, driving off to your destination. you immediately text suguru, and he replied just as quickly as you texted him.

'i'm so sorry for being late, please text me back immediately, i'm on my way there already.'

'don't fret. i'm fine! do get here within 30 minutes or you'll be late for a meeting.'

you sighed, and you arrived at the building safe and sound. you thanked your driver, and immediately headed up to your office. once you got to your designated floor, you saw suguru, preparing coffee for you. you greeted him with a good morning, and a sigh. he handed you the coffee, and you smiled a little at the cup.

"you might need this. you sounded like you slept in. happens to the best of us."

he pat your shoulder, to reassure you. you drank the cup, and looked around, with his hand, still on your shoulder. you noticed a pill pack near the coffee machine, you moved closer, suguru's hand slipping away. you read the label of the pack. 'temazepam'. is this a type of sleeping pill? you grabbed the pack, and showed it to suguru.

"is this yours?"

you looked at the back of the packaging, and you were right, it was a kind of sleeping pill. he answered with a smile.

"yes, i have trouble sleeping, and my doctor prescribed this for me. i usually forget to take them while i'm at home, so i put it over there, so i can take them before i return home. it doesn't kick in quick, so i thought taking them before i head back would be a good idea. "

you put the pack down and you apologised for your intrusion for something you shouldn't have pulled out of him.

"oh, sorry, i shouldn't have touched that topic for you."

"it's fine! it's probably public information at this point, i mean, look at these."

he points at the dark circles under his eyes, a sign of staying up late. he laughs, and tells you that you should prepare for the meeting. you nod, and you decided to fix your hair up more.

it's been about 3 weeks ever since suguru applied to be your secretary. his way of working, and the way he sees people, has been really helpful for you, and you've been securing lots of great business deals, thanks to his advice. geto innovations, has been dissolved, due to unpaid debt, the heir's rebellious behaviour and the absence of its' ceo. his father is still in jail, nothing has gone well for suguru in these past weeks, yet why is he still smiling? you didn't really wanna dig too deep, so you abandoned the idea of asking him if he was okay. though, you did find yourself being late to work often. you couldn't count how many times you had to apologise to suguru for the same reason every morning. you even tried to stay up late to complete some work you weren't doing while at work, since, well, suguru shoulders everything for you at this point, insisting you let him do everything, since you must be burnt out. he has been a big help to you, pampering you, and all. you never told him about the secret paperworks you were doing late at night, since he'd insist that he'll do it for you. you decided to listen to him, since he's so stubborn. his diligence was admirable, and he did his work so well. you sat in your office chair, all slumped and tired. suguru noticed, and got up from his own chair, and approached you. he walked behind you, playing with your hair, and braiding it.

"please leave everything to me. i'll take care of you, and your beloved inherited business. just focus on me, and your health, (yn)."

he strokes your head gently, as you lean on the backrest of your chair, your face looking right up at his. a warm moment, his eyes melt the borders of your heart, and you felt so comfortable around him. you reach for his hand, which was about to stroke your head once more, and lowered it, to your cheek.

"i hope you'll continue to do your best, suguru."

he swipes the stray pieces of your hair aside, your forehead in view. he plants a light and loving kiss on it.

"i will try. no, i will, i will continue to assist you in any way possible."

you tried reaching for his face, but..

as you try and stroke his cheek, his face seemed to wash away, his entire head turning into fragments, looking like sand being swept away by water. your entire environment being enveloped by darkness, you wake up from a seemingly long dream. you get up, realizing that free and lovely dream you had, was of the past. you're in your room, but it's doesn't seem to be in your estate. it has no windows, like how yours did. only a digital screen, simulating windows and the outside world. the door opens, and the love of your life enters the bunker-like room. you tremble, and get off your bed, gripping at his sweatpants, like a zombie. you were dressed in a light, flowy white dress, but the beauty of the dress clashes with your unhealthy appearance. your face looked like you stayed up a hundred days, and your figure was dangerously skinny. suguru bent down, to be at your level, petting your head like he did in your dream, and your past.

"it's me, sweetheart."

"please, please.. give me, the t-thing you gave me last time, suguru, i-i need it, so bad, i can't even d-describe how much i need it, i-i don't want the temazepam anymore.."

he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"of course, i'll give it to you, but first, let's get ready for our very fun playtime, hm?"

he carried you, bridal style, to your bed, he sat you down, and grabbed a hairbrush from your vanity, braiding your hair, like in the dream, he hums a familiar tune, as he gently styles your hair.

that's right. he drugged every single drink you had with temazepam. a popular benzodiazepine. a drug prescribed for insomnia, sleeping disorders and for treatment of muscle spasms and disorders that cause seizures, like epilepsy and the like. it is also a central nervous system depressant, which makes it a popular drug, well, to misuse. the longer an individual takes the said drug, they develop dependence, or in other words, an addiction. it also develops tolerance to the drug, and in your case, temazepam isn't enough to satisfy you anymore. satoru gave you something else, after he realized that temazepam doesn't work anymore. this time he injected something in you, he never told you what it was, but as long as it gave you that amazing feeling of being relieved of your suffering, you didn't care. you loved suguru for knowing what you wanted, and you continued to, even though you doubt what he says sometimes, you know that he's a good and smart man, and that you can always rely on him, that's all you needed, and he knows you'll always be by his side. he is your secretary after all. and he'll always be your secretary, in life, until death. until purgatory separates you two, sending him to hell, and you, the girl he's always seen as an angel on earth, to heaven.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru x reader #geto x reader #fanfic #yandere #halloween #happy halloween

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relax-and-read-on · 1 year

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Mortarion is my favourite boy, so can i please get various shipping headcanons? (the boy needs a hug from Sanguinius complete with wings wrapping around him)

Oh honey you just hit my FAV poor lil meow meow!!!

Mortarion, and how he would work in various ships (chaos edition)

Magnus: Magnus/Morty is the most delicious enemy to lover. There is a thousand possible scenario for those two! Magnus seeking the second most powerful psycher in the family, Mortarion having to deal with witches... There is so much things to write about them! They would balance each other quite nicely too, with Magnus hopeful optimism and Mortarion pragmatism coming up to a more even result. Tho, I think my all time fav scenario, of how they could get together, is this: what if as a child, Mortarion send out a psychic distress signal as he was abused by Necare? And what if that signal was picked up by kid magnus, and a strange, long distance relationship started?

Alpharius Omegon: The hardest one for me to figure out. I can see them being fascinated by how unwillingly Mort is being used by the Imperium, or maybe them being assigned together in the hope their tactic rub off on Mortarion and he get less causality. Sorry, I'm running a bit dry here.

Horus: Horus is, canonically, one of the two primarch Mort has any attachment too. I usually see them as having more of a big bro/lil bro relationship, but it could easily be Mortarion pinning away at him too. Or Horus having that sweet secret romance! You can add some drama to it, and make it so that Mortarion is *Horus* side pieces, and he feel like trash about it. He wants! To be loved!

Angron: Mortarion has the best apothecary, and hate slavery. The Emperor could have given him to Mort in an attempt to help, and I feel like,at the very least, Morty would have been able to find drugs good enough to calm him down a bit, or ease his pain a bit. Angron would have probably seen a friend too in Mortarion, someone that was chained to the Imperium, and who also held no illusion toward their role.

Lorgar: You have unlocked my secret fav crackpair hehe. It's actually, so, so easy to ship them: you make Mort realise that Kor is a piece of shit. Mortarion, with his hatred of abusive dad, would start to do everything to protect Lorgar. And our sweet Urizen would look at him with bug eyes like "is this affection?? I now love you mind, body and soul." They would be a violently intense pairing, that swing between wild fight and incredible tenderness. And if you want to add spice? Lorgar can worship him, as someone choose by nurgle. Nurgle, being a deity of fertility on Colchis, would probably mean sexy time, wich would make their relationship EXTRA messy. All in all, 11/10 one of my fav.

Fulgrim: Fulgrim/Mort is actually really not that far fetch! First of all, they both adore Konrad, so that is a nice starting point. Following that, you basically just need them to sleep together once. Fulgrim, being himself, would make it the most amazing of time, and poor touch starved Morty would be hooked. Completely smitten. Not only that, but while he thing that all the fancy manners of Fulgrim might be for show, he would absolutely respect his working man background and admire his talent at making things. Fulgrim would also adore plumping him up, and pampering this poor, broken soul.

Perturabo: Another one of my guilty pleasure! Take the two big bitter resentful bastard, and see what happen!!! They would annoy the hell out of each others, and yet, they are SO similar. I want Perturabo to talk about birds, while Mortarion show him rare flowers. I want them to be their best and their worst together. The kind that hurt one another, but can't stay away. Toxic in all the right way.

... and Konrad: Listen. LISTEN. If GW is gonna write in the codex that those two are best friends, and then NEVER MAKE THEM INTERACT.... Then it's free real estate, I don't care. They are besty. They know each others secret hobbies. Mortarion enjoy Konrad weird bones craft, and Konrad is touched by the array of carnivorous plants he's gifted with. They cuddles, because no one really get them like each others. They have this tense friendship, like so many queer youngster had. The one were you aren't sure if it's friendship or attraction, were you kind if want to kiss the other, but knowing that it would change everything between you two, you stay put. They see each others at their worst, and only love the other more for it. I adore them. My precious.

I'll come with a loyalist list soon ;)

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #wh40k #primarch #fulgrim #konrad curze #perturabo #primarch headcanon #magnus the red #mortarion #horus lupercal #alpharius omegon #lorgar aurelian #angron

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an-architect-of-words · 1 year

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I WISH BORIS HAD BEEN THE ANTAGONIST OF THE GOLDFINCH

Okay Boris Pavlikovsky take based on people requesting it from this post where I said I’m like 90% sure my take on him is 🔥, meaning I could tell immediately he’d be popular as hell and yet he’s the subject of my biggest critique of the novel.

The short:

I’m extremely mixed on Boris and was for most of the book, especially at the end. His usage within the story just was an odd roller coaster. Now, I think I’d summarize it this way— I wish Boris had just been treated as an incredibly nuanced antagonist. I get that Donna Tartt books don’t fully deal in hero-villain terms but let me explain!! He would have been very heartbreaking, compelling, and unique as an actual antagonist.

The long:

I want to like Boris a lot because of his positive qualities. His dialogue is so charmingly good (I was so impressed by Tartt’s writing of someone who is speaking a second/third language and may write a whole post on that). Boris is also characterized by gratitude and loyalty to the people who’ve done right by him such as Theo, the folks from his backstory such as Judy and the Muslim preachers, and his guys— Cherry, Shirley, Gyuri. He recognizes kindness and responds to it in a way that is just so likable. He even cries when he thinks of his betrayal of Theo and says that he can’t stand what he did, knowing that Theo was only ever generous and good to him. Finally, Boris was a good foil to Theo, optimism vs dread. Boris’s optimism and love did save Theo at points, and it provides a very believable basis for their friendship.

But my problem is that Boris’s flaws were a little TOO big to have been so under-commented on. His vices crossed from palatable things to things that you really can’t take lightly, at least as lightly as I think this story did at the end. To summarize some things: 1) Boris beat his girlfriend (and casually assumed Theo had beaten Pippa) and is of the opinion that this is sad but necessary since sometimes “women deserve it.” 2) He is a serial cheater who rarely visits his wife and his own babies but has a girlfriend in Antwerp and is implied to buy escorts/prostitutes fairly regularly, which is further unconscionable since the reason he hurt Kotku was that she was potentially cheating on him! 3) Boris has ruined and ended countless lives. Anyone who runs a cartel has. But he was also introducing the kids at his school to drugs since they were too nervous to deal with adults. And maybe it’s because I know someone who died by a heroin overdose, but I just saw Boris as a indirect murderer throughout the book. He is against direct, cold-blooded murder, sure. But there comes a point where you have to take the domino-effect implications of your own actions seriously. It’s not even just the cartel. It’s minor things that show he doesn’t care about indirectly ending lives. He lost his license from drunk driving, then gave Gyuri cocaine WHILE GYURI WAS DRIVING. So, well, blatant lack of concern towards the lives of everyone else on the road. 4) while he did help Theo in ways, he really ruined him in other ways. The drugs and alcohol. But also getting him accustomed to thievery and sexual activity at a young age (I was pretty disturbed by Boris’s attraction to certain women because they were over the legal age and his way of romanticizing these relationships to Theo. I get this isn’t exactly uncommon talk among teen boys, at a level. But it reached icky too-far points in context. Then we see Theo get in this kind of relationship later, with Julie).

To summarize this: I was thinking that Boris shows that a person can be a good friend without being good for his friend. If that makes sense?

Boris loved Theo, saved his life, spent years planning how to make things up to him— but he was also emblematic of a very bad era of Theo’s. Now, I can love deeply flawed characters. Heck, I loved everyone in The Secret History. But the thing is, I think characters who reach this level of flawed are only fully likable when I can approach them knowing they were indeed wholly lambasted by the text itself. It’s a comfortable place from which to feel empathy.

For Boris… that didn’t come through well to me. It started to at points, for sure. Theo definitely comments on Boris’s flaws. And I think there’s a really dirty sort of filter on the events of the story where Boris is concerned. But to be honest, it wasn’t enough for what this guy was doing. I was most disappointed when Theo started to really get at him in the hotel room, only for the scene to shift into a moment that lifts Boris up. I liked the idea of Theo breaking away from the attitude of his father and of Boris. But then *bam* Goldfinch. Now Boris is all right again. The problem is— while making good from the bad is a great lesson and I agree that even our low points have meaning in a divine scheme— that doesn’t mean our bad actions were good, actually. It’s just that goodness was able to work with what we did. But our wrongs are wrong. Boris returning the painting shows some redemption and that Theo’s woes and miserable life story did have meaning. But Boris’s cheating, drug dealing, thievery, and violence are still evil mistakes. Not good because they worked out.

This return-of-The-Goldfinch moment is further muddied by the fact that Boris had something to gain financially by returning the finch. Now he’s loaded with cash, and that was a motivating factor in the return. I guess the lesson is that good pays and in a much better way than evil. And Boris did learn this. He was so fixated on how to get what he wanted sneakily, by beating the system, that he didn’t consider that he could come out on top by doing good. The lesson may be that good is not without opportunity itself. Still, the moment does swerve from fully critiquing Boris’s wrongs, and he’s never really treated fairly for them in my opinion.

So back to my point. I wish Boris had been just treated as the antagonist of this novel. I think that this would have been an awesome direction and could have happened while keeping his personality in-tact. All the pieces were there but the trigger never pulled.

An antagonist is merely someone stopping a protagonist from getting what he wants or what is good for him. An antagonist doesn’t have to be fully villain-y. It can be a rival sports team, for example. I think Boris would have made a great, very nuanced antagonist with sympathetic intentions. It would have been fun to see him fight so hard for Theo’s good that he doesn’t see that he’s preventing Theo’s redemption. Again, a lot of this IS already in the text, but I wish it all had followed through. I wish that Boris as an antagonist who only wants what’s best for the protagonist was his eventual and clearly stated characterization. It would have been compelling, to me, if the end had been Theo against Boris on the grounds that they both are so certain what’s best for Theo’s life. Boris would not want to be in this position, but is sure he has to be. Honestly?! HE HAS STRONG REASONS FOR THINKING THIS. He watched Theo try to kill himself many times. Imagine how traumatizing that would be, how much you wouldn’t trust your friend because you’re so afraid of losing him.

For a bit, I thought the reason Boris didn’t want to return the Goldfinch had to do with him viewing it as the thing that would fix Theo and mend their relationship. I thought maybe his connection to the thing was that he considered it a panacea like, if it were back in Theo’s hands, they could return to boyhood. I thought maybe he didn’t want to let go of the painting because it represented his own redemption and a happier side of Theo; he’s convinced that if it’s given to the authorities, he’s lost the fight and Theo won’t ever find happiness again. I think the in-book reason for Boris not wanting to return the painting was literally just fear of the cops. But it would have been interesting if he just didn’t have faith that Theo would be okay if it was released.

The end even covers the idea that our hearts are not always something to be trusted. Sometimes the things that you do out of love aren’t good. I do believe Boris got Theo on drugs partially because of love (but also wanting company in his own lifestyle). He didn’t want to see Theo suffering; he felt upset when Theo was sick or in pain. So his answer was to give him ecstasy or vodka or weed or coke so that his friend would relax and smile again. But obviously this isn’t right. It’s very wrong. And is it just me or did the book treat this as an oddly benevolent act? (In fact, it also just seems “generous” when Boris said he was just giving drugs away at school because he liked being liked— but that’s FURTHER basis for a sort of well-meaning antagonist. He’s generous but in awful ways at times. I wish this were commented on as such, as evil born from a good yet disordered heart, rather than just “Boris is generous.”)

I also thought for sure that Boris would have a come-to-Jesus moment where he’s like “maybe this is all wrong,” only for him to be advised against this feeling by Myriam who has a plan for how he can get what he wants for himself and Theo, quick and dirty. Was I the only one who felt Myriam seemed efficient in a Devil-like way? The text really puts demon/snake symbolism on her, and Boris trusts her so much and this isn’t expanded upon. It should have been used!

Bottom line is that some things done in this book are serious. Really serious, not character quirks and they felt a little too casually handled when it came to Boris. The book does seem to go “yes he’s a mess” here and there. But not in a way that rises to the proper level, in my opinion. I do get that he shows there’s good to be found in bad people, and that fate can use broken human beings! But I kind of wish I wasn’t left with a feeling of the book going, “lol Boris, that beautiful scoundrel” when the man in question was a woman-beating, cheating, drug lord.

Like I said, I’m mixed. But I think I’d have loved him if he was just, up front, the affectionate antagonist of the whole novel. I think he would have made a great overarchingly dark figure, whose motivations stem from how close he’s come to losing Theo. That would have better married his positive qualities with his negative ones. It would have combined what we know of him as a selfish, often violent figure with his good intentions. I just want him to be depicted for what he is and let his vices lead up to an actual boiling point— while letting him keep his kind aspects too.

#though I get Boris wasn’t responsible for EVERYTHING #also theo has his own responsibilities to take #still the story was too kind to Borya #I want to write a fanfic where he’s actually like this #donna tartt #boris pavlikovsky #the goldfinch

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year

Text

California Dreamin’

Chapter Two - Milkshakes & Sunburns (18+ ONLY)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Modern!Eddie AU - In which Eddie travels to California searching for something more out of life. And then he meets you.

Warnings: mentions of drug use and alcohol, reader being insecure, mentions of a deceased parent, eventual smut in future chapters, let me know if I missed any :)

8.8K words

Eddie x Reader, Friends to lovers, Slow burn

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Note: So I got carried away and just kept writing. Also got a bit discouraged but that’s ok cause I kept writing anyway 😅 I’d love to know what you guys think about it. I’m trying to better myself as a writer and I figure the only way to do it is to write what I want and post it even if I’m scared. Also it’s like a fanfic so who tf cares it’s just fun.

Masterlist

The mornings in summer were cool and a blessing before the hot California sun seized the rest of the day. Birds chattered in the distance and lawn mowers hummed, giving off the scent of fresh cut grass. The smell of bacon and the clatter of pots and pans snaps Eddie out of his slumber.

Wiping drool from his mouth, he sits up throwing the sheets off of himself, his unruly curls sticking up in every direction, bangs smashed to each side of his temples.

Stretching with a deep groan, he swipes up his shirt off the floor and tosses it on. In the last few days he fell into routine with the household. Breakfasts at the table rather than in a rush on his way out the door, assigned chores, and of course a phone call to Wayne every other day, providing him updates on how he’s been doing so far.

—

Wayne had been worried about Eddie prior to him leaving Hawkins. His nephew wasn’t doing so well or at least that’s what it looked like in between all the drinking, smoking, and restless nights, hearing Eddie in his room every evening, doing anything but sleeping only for him to emerge in the morning with purple eye bags and bloodshot eyes.

It got to a point that Wayne didn’t know what to do anymore and god forbid, he wasn’t going to let his nephew, practically his son, drink himself to death. Smoke himself out of reality. Disappear right before him.

Wayne was never one to bring up emotions or ask for help but he sure as hell wasn’t going let this continue. Cringing at the thought of asking for any type of help or advice, he forced himself to call up the one person who might understand and be able to offer a smidge of hope to him. Maybe tell him that his nephew isn’t too far gone and that he can get out of this rut. Anything.

That’s when he called up Marlene, one of his oldest friends. “Mar, I just don’t know what I’m sposed’ to do. He’s walkin’ around damn near lookin’ like a corpse.” He explains through his flip phone. She suggests getting him professional help, therapy, something. Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Y’know we don’t got the money for that.” She then offers something that Wayne sees a glimmer of optimism in.

She brings up an idea to have Eddie come stay with her, as long as he needs. “He should get out of there, it won’t help if he has to be faced with harassment every day. I think all the drinking and drugs provide him an escape. If we get him out of there it could help. He could find something out here, figure himself out.” She says. Wayne is hesitant not because he doesn’t trust Marlene but he doesn’t trust people.

People have always made Eddie feel like the freak, the outcast, the murderer’s son. Everywhere he went he was met with unforgiving stares, individuals whispering about him as he walked by, men of the town would even start fights with him. Just to assert their dominance over him as if to say “know your place”. Although they wouldn’t always win, Eddie was lean but he was strong. Growing up in the trailer park had its perks and being able to pummel someone to the ground when he needed to was one of them.

Wayne knew Eddie could hold his own physically but mentally he knew it destroyed him. Being held to a standard that his father set when he was only seven stuck with him, Wayne knew even if Eddie never talked about it. Refused to talk about it.

So when Marlene awaits an answer on the other end of the phone, all Wayne can think about is how wrong it could go should someone out in California figure out Eddie’s past and treat him how he’s always been treated. But then he envisions how right it could go too. Eddie could start fresh, he’d have Marlene and Jocelyn and wouldn’t be completely alone, experiencing something other than Hawkins all by himself. All he knew his whole life was Hawkins AKA Bigot Central.

He agrees and from there, he has to prepare to bring up the concept to Eddie. It would only work if he was on board. The idea of conveying his worry to Eddie in words was terrifying. Munson men didn’t talk about feelings.

That evening when Eddie stepped into the trailer after work, kicking his heavy oil covered boots off, Wayne sat up from the couch. “Ed, I need to talk to you.” He demands, gesturing to the spot next to him. Eddie gives him a suspicious stare, pulling his hair out of the low bun he sported. He slowly makes his way next to Wayne, plopping on the couch, the springs squeaking in protest.

“Now, m’ not gonna get mushy with you but here’s what I will say.” Wayne starts. “What you been doin’ lately ain’t good for you. Drugs, drinkin’, work, repeat. Comin’ home all banged up and bleedin’.” He explains, blue eyes staring straight into Eddie’s. “Wayne we don’t need t—“ “I’m talkin’, son. And you’re gonna sure as shit listen cause it’s what’s good for you.” Wayne is firm with his words. Eddie’s lips press into a tight line as he waits for Wayne to continue.

“I get it, this town hasn’t been good to ya. But that don’t mean you get to act like a goddamn college kid every night. I figure there ain’t really any way to stop you but I talked to Marlene—“ “You called Marlene! Why the fuck—“ Eddie is cut off again. “She thinks it’d be good for you to stay with her for some time, however long you want. Get away from these people, figure yourself out without havin’ to confront a mob everywhere ya go.”

“Wayne I can’t even afford to live in this shit hole of a town, how am I gonna pay rent out on the west coast! Are you trying to set me up for failure!?” Eddie seethes, hands grabbing at his curls in distress. Wayne feels hurt by his insinuation at first but comes to the conclusion that Eddie is scared, having known nothing but this small town his entire life.

Wayne closes his eyes and exhales. “Ed, we’re tryin’ to help. Marlene isn’t chargin’ rent, you just gotta help out. Y’know chores. Earn your keep. She wants to help. She knows how these people can be, she experienced it firsthand too.” He says. “I’m not charity—I-I’m not—“ Eddie struggles to find words. “You’re family to her, Ed! Remember! Her and your mom, they were there for each other and that also means she’s there for you too.” Wayne voices, attempting to keep the emotion to a minimum. Eddie’s big brown eyes soften and he slumps back against the couch.

He has no words and he refuses to go into this territory. He can’t. Without another sound, he stands up and heads to the bathroom, slamming the door to signify that this conversation is over.

Wayne feels defeated and hopeless. The rest of the night carries on, he eats one of his TV dinners on the couch watching Jeopardy like every other night. Eddie is still in the bathroom, the sound of the shower is heard from where Wayne sits, the pipes singing through the walls. Eventually the water turns off and minutes go by. Eddie emerges from the bathroom, curls dripping and a towel around his waist. He focuses on Wayne with intensity before softening his features ever so slightly. “I’ll go.” He states before padding off to his room.

He’ll never admit it but the smallest smile graces Wayne’s face.

—

Downtown is much busier than back home. Cars are constantly speeding past, traffic builds up at the lights, and there’s a man selling fruit on the corner. Eddie has witnessed so much in so little time as he walks along the damaged sidewalk. So far he’s handed his resume to four auto shops. Jocelyn assisted him in creating one that would stand out and highlight his skills.

He finishes handing in the last copy to one more shop before they hire him on the spot, letting him know he starts on Monday. Things are okay, things are going to be okay, he reminds himself through his doubt.

On his way out he bumps into something, another body, shorter than him. You let out a small chirp as you attempt to enter the shop but instead collide with something firm.

“Sorry-“ you both say simultaneously. You look up to find none other than Eddie Munson, now grinning down at you. He smells like tobacco and something wood-like you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s nice. His curls are as wild as when you met him a few days ago. “Hey.” He greets you, his eyes have a twinkle in them and you’re in a trance. “I was just—“ you begin to stumble over your words. “Something wrong with your car?” He asks. “Y-yeah it’s making all this noise and I put off taking it in so… that’s what I’m doing…now.” You awkwardly answer.

He leans in toward you before quietly saying “I could take a look at it. If you want. I won’t overcharge you unlike some—you know maybe we should talk outside. I don’t wanna get fired when I haven’t even worked a shift yet.” He ushers you back out the front door of the shop, the air conditioning vanishing as the heat takes back over. “You sure? You don’t have to.” You fiddle with the car keys in your hand.

“Yeah it’s no problem. You can drop it off at Mar’s and I’ll take a look at it when I get back.” He assures you. “Wait, did you say you work here?” You backtrack. He’s squinting at the sunlight as he answers. “Yeah, just got hired actually. Just don’t tell em’ I stole one of their customers.” He raises his brows and gives you a stern look although you can tell he’s playing around. “Noted.” You agree, your face feeling hot and it’s not just from the sun.

There’s a silence among the two of you, you awkwardly shuffling your feet on the concrete. “Not gonna lie, I don’t have shit left to do til’ Monday.” Eddie breaks the silence. “So I could just take a look at your car now.” He admits. With that, he follows you in his van back to Jocelyn’s house. Meanwhile, you’re giving yourself a mental pep talk the whole way back, simultaneously scolding yourself for being so uncool.

—

Condensation drips down the tall glasses of lemonade as you carry them out from the house to the front yard where Eddie’s head is tucked beneath the hood of your car, the mid-afternoon sun blazing.

Except when you left a few minutes ago to get him and yourself something to drink he was wearing a shirt. Now he’s all sweaty, tattoos littered along his torso and chest, his hair in a low bun with some strands escaping to frame his angelic face, and his happy trail on display. His rings are discarded on a small workbench he found next to the house that he had dragged over.

He’s gorgeous, lean but not pumped with muscle. His arms aren’t bulging but the flex in his bicep when he moves his arm a certain way does things to you. He has a rag hanging out of his back pocket, covered in grease. The image before you is nothing like you’d ever seen before.

You try and shake the thoughts forming about him in your head, setting the glasses down on the workbench. “Mar made some fresh lemonade with the lemons out back, so I brought you some. Hope that’s okay. Or I could get you water instead.” You watch as he tinkers with something in the engine, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration.

“No, no, that’s perfect. Thanks—fuck.” He grunts out of frustration. “I’m gonna need to get a new part for your car. Sorry about that, Peach.” Peach? “Probably not gonna be able to use it for a couple days til’ I find what I need.” He finishes. You nod in understanding. “Why—why Peach?” You ask timidly. He shrugs. “Just seem sweet is all.” He smiles and glances at you for a brief moment as he messes with something else in the engine. “Like a peach.”

“Jocelyn’s got a nickname too.” He continues, voice somewhat muffled since he’s hovering over the engine again. “Oh?” You urge him to complete his thought. “Yeah, fuckin’ grumpy ass.” He turns to you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. At this you laugh. “Do you know the shit she’s given me in the short time I’ve been here? Almost beat me to a pulp for taking too long in the bathroom. I mean Jesus Christ.” Eddie’s rolling his eyes dramatically. “She has a way with words.” You state, watching as he finishes up and closes the hood.

His hands are covered in black streaks, some sneaking their way up his forearms as well. “Well, so do I.” He says, taking the rag out of his back pocket and wiping his hands off. As he turns his face to the side you can’t help but notice a little silver hoop earring dangling from his ear.

There it is again, that hot and heavy feeling. You feel your cheeks starting to tint pink and you can only hope that he doesn’t notice. “But I’ll—uh let you know when she’s done.” He taps the hood of your car twice with his hand. “If you’re okay to leave it here. Really wouldn’t recommend driving it home at this point. Could’ve fallen apart on you at any moment, Peach.” He enunciates the nickname with a grin. This is so embarrassing, you can’t stop the color from taking over your cheeks, can’t even look him in the eye with how charming he is.

“Yeah, no for sure. It’s not like I drive to work anyway.” You say crossing your arms nervously. He grabs his shirt from the workbench, draping it over his shoulder before grabbing the glass of lemonade, taking a long gulp. And god, how could he look so good doing the most mundane things?

“Well I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You need me to drive you home or are you gonna hang here?” He asks. “I uh, think I’ll just hang out til Jos gets home. She should be here soon.” You take a sip from your glass. Eddie gulps down the rest of his lemonade, some of it escaping the glass and trickling down his chin and to his chest. Why was everything he did so erotic to you?

“Thanks for the lemonade.” He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a small smile appearing. His face is flushed from the heat, lips a pretty shade of pink. You can’t seem to respond before he’s sauntering back into the house, leaving you a flustered mess in the yard.

—

You’d been waiting around for Jocelyn in the garage for around an hour before texting her, asking her where she was. Her college classes should have ended already. She responds letting you know that she was at the library with a study group, not sure how long she’d be.

Sighing, you kick your feet up on the coffee table. Guess you were going to have to find something to do with your evening which wasn’t uncommon. You always hung out at Jocelyn’s even if she wasn’t there, busying yourself with playing with the dogs or helping out Marlene, even working from your laptop.

Jonathan would probably also be at the study group which meant Argyle would follow him and Will and El wouldn’t be coming around tonight since he was their ride. In a way, you felt like everyone had a pairing or a group. Jonathan, Argyle, and Jocelyn were always on campus together, always exchanging inside jokes from classes or something that happened that day. Will and El, while they were a little bit younger, both being 19, they were also taking courses at another campus a few cities over. And then you just had work.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but feel that your decision not to go to college hindered your social life but it wasn’t even that. Everyone was around all the time regardless of their class schedules. If they weren’t at their classes they were almost always in the garage. It had to be the dynamic set out from the very beginning.

You were the quieter one, the more soft spoken one, the tie breaker if Jonathan, Argyle, and Jos got in an argument over something and couldn’t make a decision or if Will and El were bickering about where to eat. Your role was essential when Jonathan and Will got into disagreements however those never seem to end seeing as they’re brothers. Something in you just felt that while Jos was considered your best friend, you just weren’t bonded to everyone in the way that they were bonded to each other. Will and El were inseparable but it didn’t feel that way with yourself or anyone in the group.

It wasn’t to say you didn’t feel loved by your friends because you did. There was just something missing, a void that wasn’t being filled no matter how hard you tried. No one would ever notice but you were drowning in self doubt and lacked the confidence to swim back to the surface and ask for help.

In the distance, the sky is fading into hues of purples and pinks, a cotton candy mess of clouds consuming the skyline. The day is coming to a finish as the city just beyond the view of the reservoir glimmers like a jewelry box. You can just barely see it from where you’re sitting but it's still hypnotizing. Life still continues even into the dark of the night, the hustle of people working their night shifts prominent among the millions of lights in the distance.

“Hey, where is everyone?” Eddie strolls into the room, breaking you from your provoking thoughts. His hair is damp and he’s wearing a black muscle tee and some black basketball shorts. Some small tattoos are scattered throughout his legs. His curls look fresh and not as frizzy as before and he smells faintly of aftershave. Not the gross kind that’s too strong but just a subtle scent.

“Class, I guess.” you mutter, taking your legs off the coffee table and sitting up straighter. “I was just gonna get going.” Before you can stand up Eddie is slumping onto the couch next to you, a beer in his hand that he had just grabbed from the fridge in the kitchen. “I don’t bite y’know, Peach.” he pops the cap to the beer off and tosses it onto the coffee table as he takes a sip. You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to answer. “You’re just gonna leave the second I sit down?” he continues, brow raised, offense in his voice. “Well I uh–no–” his eyes narrow and then travel across your face as you stutter before he displays a huge grin. “I’m just fucking around, don’t let me tell you what to do. I was just gonna chill out here for a little bit. If that’s cool with you.” he settles back into the couch, resting his head against the back of it.

“Yeah, it’s basically your house isn’t it? At least while you’re here, like you live here.” you manage to say. “I mean, it seems like you basically live here too and you’ve been here longer so you have the authority to kick me out if anything.” he mentions. You just nod in response, focusing your sight on a rip in your denim shorts rather than his face.

You don’t know where it comes from but before you can even think your mouth is already running. “Have they shown you around yet? We could like–take a walk and I could show you around the area…I don’t know.” you offer. Mentally, you’re now kicking yourself because why would he be interested in hanging out with you for the night? Why would he entertain the idea when he was probably waiting for everyone else?

“Let’s go.” he smiles, finishing off his beer and throwing his shoes on. You’re surprised by his answer, not because you think he would just simply tell you no but because you’re you and he seems enthusiastic if anything. But you’re boring and that enthusiasm won’t last long, you know it. That’s how it usually goes, right?

Eventually the gravel is crunching below your heels as you walk alongside Eddie down the driveway. The air is dry and it's still warm despite the sun no longer hanging in the sky. Eddie’s hands are shoved in his pockets and as you sneak a quick glance at him from the corner of your eye, you notice a chain with a guitar pick dangling from his neck, the jewelry reflecting off one of the street lights as you approach the road.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks, pulling out a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. You shake your head in response as you decide to veer off to the right, the street crumbly from not being maintained for a while. Eddie follows your lead. “Been trying to quit so I only let myself have one a day. You smoke?” he questions, you hear the lighter flickering before he inhales as you keep your gaze on the broken asphalt beneath you. The scent of tobacco soon fills your nose. You take slow steps in rhythm with him, lazily shifting from one foot to the other. “No, I don’t. Never tried before. Cigarettes, at least.” you say.

He just nods in understanding. “I used to smoke so much, we’re talkin’ like chain smoker. Shit was nasty. But I’ve been trying to cut back and quit. Mostly been smokin’ weed.” he explains. “Well you’re gonna love what Jonathan and Argyle smoke. The stuff you find out here is unreal.” you tell him. You almost frown at the thought. It seems like so far you have had the opportunity to hang out with Eddie one on one more than anyone else but you’re certain that will change and once again you will be on the backburner.

“Good cause I’m gonna need it.” he laughs. You haven’t gotten very far, the house still a couple yards away behind you as you both had been leisurely making your way along the street. He clears his throat, cigarette hanging in between his fingers, there’s a look in his eye. You can’t quite pinpoint what it is, maybe a bit mischievous? “I don’t mean to hijack your tour or anything but let's go over there.” he chimes in, pointing to the reservoir, the concrete part at the opposite end of the field. There is a ‘no trespassing’ sign displayed a few feet away and a sparkle in his eyes as he looks from you to the sign and back.

You’d crossed the field a few times in the past to sit on the part that appears to be like a dam with no water to block. No one’s ever said anything but you feed into Eddie’s antics. “If we get caught–” “I’ll go down for the crime, don’t you worry.” he smirks, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground before stomping it out and then picking it back up, putting it back in his pocket. You give him a questionable look before he elaborates. “Bad for the environment…” You can only laugh in response.

—

The city stares back at the two of you, lights sparkling as a treasure chest filled with gold and jewels would. You stand on the concrete dam overlooking the sight before you. Eddie’s eyes are filled with wonder, huge pools of honey taking it all in. “Can I be honest?” he says next to you. “Sure.” you respond. “I’ve never seen something like this before. I mean I’ve seen a city before but it didn’t look anything like this.” he says, his stare remaining in front of him.

“That’s fair, Indiana’s a lot different than here.” you say. “A lot different.” he emphasizes. He sits himself down on the ground, bringing his knees to his chest. You join him, sitting criss-crossed. Eddie finally tears his gaze from the city, shifting it to you. “So tell me about everyone.” he says. “What do you mean? You’ve met them.” you respond. “Yeah but what’s everyone like? I’ve only known them for like less than a week.” he elaborates. “Well, you know Jos. She’s my closest friend. And then Will and El are like the twins around here. They’re always together. El acts like Jos’s little sister and she’s a party animal once you get her started. Will’s shy around new people but he’s super funny.” you explain with a small smile. Eddie’s full attention is on you, listening intently. “And then there’s Jonathan and Argyle, they’re complete stoners. Will is Jonathan’s brother if they didn’t tell you yet. Sometimes they don’t tell new people they’re brothers and wait to see how long they can go without telling them, it’s super weird. Argyle is super chill, he’s usually up for anything.” you finish.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. “What about you?” he asks. His voice is quiet, almost as if he could disrupt the calm atmosphere you two created. You stare down at the ground, fidgeting with a pebble. What about you? What was there to tell about you? Not much, you decide. But he wasn’t going to make this easy and you knew that.

“I’m just me.” you sigh, giving him a sad smile. His face falters at this. “Yeah, you’re you.” he says intrigued. “Tell me about you.” he pushes. What were you supposed to tell him? I have deeply rooted emotional trauma which makes it hard for me to get close with others? No, he would run for the hills. “I’m–” you try again, unable to find the words. “I have to get home.” you could punch yourself for the words that involuntarily left your lips. You panicked and now you’re going to regret ending the night early.

“Do you really?” Eddie challenges you, almost as if he can read you like a book. His eyes are burning a hole in you. It’s hard to look at him because you know you’re lying and he knows it too. “Yes.” you lie again. He looks at you in speculation and sighs, giving in as he stands up. You follow, dusting your legs off. “I can drive you then.” is all he says.

Now you worry that you’ve angered him, that you pissed him off and now he’s never gonna interact with you again other than when he’s forced to when everyone else is around. The fear that you’ve ruined another good thing because you couldn’t get over yourself bubbles within you.

Eddie walks in front of you, making his way down from the dam along the slope of concrete and onto the field, you’re not far behind. He’s giving you the silent treatment, you think to yourself. You barely even know him and he’s already done with you. That is until you hear his voice speak up as he glances behind at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks for trespassing with me.” He’s not mad? “No problem.” You respond confused.

The two of you make your way back to Jocelyn’s in a quiet but comfortable silence, now that you know he’s not mad, or at least not showing it. Approaching the open garage, you hear voices laughing and bantering. Everyone must be home. Sure enough, you and Eddie walk into a room full of your friends. “Heyyyy!” Jonathan greets from the couch he’s melted into. His eyes are bloodshot and a grin seems permanently etched into his face. Looking at Jocelyn and Argyle also attached to the couch, Jocelyn cuddling a pillow to her chest, you realize you just missed their post class smoke sesh. You’d usually be a participant had you been around but you don’t mind.

Will and El are seated on the cushioned bench on the other side of the garage doing homework. Will seems reluctant to participate but does so anyway as he shuffles through the flashcards he’s holding. Highlighters are scattered among the binders littered on the floor next to them. Will offers a “hey” while El greets you with a “hi” and a wave.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks as he plops himself next to Jonathan. “Where have you brochachos been?” Argyle questions looking between you and Eddie. Jos gives you a quick look as if something’s up but you return a stern one back to her so she drops it.

“I was showing him around and he wanted to see the reservoir.” You explain. “Why the hell did you wanna see that out of all things?” Jos just about yells at Eddie with a puzzled look. “It said no trespassing so you know I had to.” He smirks. “Fight the man, dude.” Jonathan fist bumps Eddie. “Thanks?” he responds.

“So, Eddie The Wise…” Argyle begins before Will chimes in. “Hey! It’s Will The Wise!” Argyle chuckles mischievously. “I love riling that little dude up. His eyes get all big and he starts freakin’ out, it’s classic man.” He laughs a little harder than necessary. “Whew!” He wipes the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes while Jos and Jonathan laugh along with him. “Anyway, how are you liking Californ-i-ay?” he asks.

“Can’t complain so far.” Eddie replies, and you swear he shoots a glance at you for a brief second. “Peach has been showin’ me the ropes.” he jokes. So he definitely glanced at you. “Who’s Peach?” Jonathan questions, confusion evident in his features. Eddie gestures to you with a tip of his chin, his lashes are casting shadows over his rosy cheeks, no doubt sunburned from being outside more than he’s used to this past week. “She’s too nice to everyone!” Eddie explains. Jos, Argyle, and Jonathan all share a look, Jonathan wiggling his eyebrows before shrugging it off. You shoot each of them a glare as you speak up. “I’m gonna head home now, it’s starting to get late and we have a long day tomorrow.” you remind them of the trip to the beach that was planned.

Eddie drove you home that night just like he did the first time just days ago. And hopefully there would be many more, you think to yourself. If you were lucky enough, if you were strong enough to let him in. If that was even his intention.

–

“Sunscreen, towels, sandwiches, drinks, and where is my…” El lists off the necessities until she’s looking around puzzled, lips in a pout and eyebrows scrunched. “My book!” she yells as Argyle mindlessly flips through the pages while he leans against Eddie’s van, back doors wide open as Jonathan is tossing in an umbrella. El snatches the book from Argyle’s grasp, tucking it into her canvas tote bag hanging off of her shoulder. “I wasn’t gonna hurt it!” Argyle defends, shoving his hands into the pockets of his bright teal swim trunks. Scoffing and rolling her eyes, El makes her way back to the house to gather anything else they may have forgotten.

Eddie passes her through the doorway carrying two beach chairs. “Good morning, Sunshine!” he just about shouts in her ear. She flinches, her bangs momentarily falling into her eyes. “Good morning?” she responds as he continues walking. “If I have to be up early and ‘get glad’ as Mar says, then so do you!” he sing songs from down the driveway. She waves him off before making her way into the kitchen where you and Will had been making the rest of the sandwiches for the day.

“You won’t catch me making a bologna sandwich, I’m not doing it.” Will cringes as you’re handing him the container of meat, all processed and packaged in perfect circles. “Well I’m working on the turkey ones.” you whine, dropping the container in front of him, returning to your task of smothering mayo along the white sandwich bread. “And I’m working on the peanut butter and jelly ones.” he puts on an exaggerated frown. “Will, you’re literally on your last one.” you argue. Will starts to mimic you in a high pitched voice. “Oh my god, I’ll do it!” El chimes in with annoyance, dropping her tote bag on one of the chairs near the table, making her way next to you at the kitchen island.

“Who even requested bologna anyway?” El questions as she steals the butter knife from you to slather some mayo on the bread. You give her a glare but she pays no mind so you drop it, grabbing another knife from the drawer. “Who do you think?” Will finishes off his last PB&J, pushing the pieces of bread together and packaging it in a sandwich bag and then into the small red cooler on the counter. “Argyle.” El seethes as she pulls a piece of the over processed meat out of the container, a disgusted look on her face. They didn’t hate each other by any means but he knew how to push El’s buttons and she did nothing to hide it.

You finish off the sandwiches just as Jocelyn stampedes down the stairs wearing her black denim shorts which used to be jeans but she cut them at the knee and a cropped white band shirt, showing off a hint of her torso. “Let’s go, losers!” She grabs her sunglasses from the counter and heads toward the door. “Be safe!” you hear Marlene yell from the top of the stairs.

Everyone meets up at the end of the driveway, piling into the van with the beach essentials. There are no seats in the back so you just grab a spot where space is available. Eddie drives and Jonathan calls shotgun. The engine is rumbling to life and before you know it you're on the road, only a 30 minute drive around the mountain and through the coastal cities.

–

The air is more crisp than inland and it's still overcast since it was still early. Families walk along the sidewalks, dads carrying foldable lawn chairs and pool toys, moms herding the kids while carrying diaper bags and other miscellaneous items. The chatter in the car was continuous throughout the whole drive, the seven of you leaving no room for silence. Except for of course when you all stopped for a mandatory gas station run, leaving everyone with their selected snack and drink before heading down to the beach. It was a ritual you all had.

The parking lot comes into view and so does the open ocean along with the sand you couldn’t wait to dig your toes into. The water is a deep blue compared to the lighter blue of the sky. You spot the pier and the little diner at the end, hoping you’d get to treat yourself to a milkshake later on. Eddie had to circle the parking lot a few times before actually finding a spot. “It’s baby’s first beach trip!” Jos yells as she crawls toward the front of the van, slapping her hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He rubs his shoulder, putting the van in park and not even a second later everyone is rushing out of the van.

You can hear the waves smacking the shore, smell the salt in the air, you can almost feel the cool water against you as you play in the waves and even taste the saltwater when you get hit in the face by one that was bigger than you estimated. But first you have to help with carrying everything from the van down to the sand which is the worst part. But not as bad as having to lug it all back at the end of the day. You opt to carry one of the smaller coolers and some towels, everyone else finding something to carry. It was nice having so many people though, you didn’t have to make multiple trips. Unlike the time you, Jocelyn, Jonathan, and Argyle went to the beach and overpacked, the four of you had to make two trips out of it between the beach toys, a tent Argyle insisted on bringing, chairs and food, among other things you can’t even remember.

The shore was populated with families and groups of people seeing as it was a Saturday in the beginning of Summer. The sand was warm, almost hot on your feet. Jonathan managed to point out a spot that would fit your group perfectly among the crowds. It was a little ways down from the pier but not too far, complaints were still heard from Jos and Argyle though, they just wanted to drop everything and run into the water. Towels were laid out, the coolers were set in the sand near the foldable chairs, and a colorful umbrella was propped up. Everyone claimed their respective spots to lay out for the day in between swimming and playing in the sand.

El situated herself on her towel underneath the umbrella, pulling out her book as she laid back. You decided on a faded Star Wars towel, setting your bag on the corner and pulling out some sunscreen to apply to your face and body. Will held his hand out for some as he claimed the towel right in between you and El. You obliged, squeezing the bottle of lotion onto his palm as you spread it along your cheeks and nose. Jonathan and Argyle were already throwing a frisbee back and forth, not even shedding their shirts yet. Jos sat in one of the beach chairs with her shirt discarded in her back pocket, now sporting a neon orange bikini top with her sunglasses sitting comfortably on her face while she basked in the sun.

With another glance around at your friends, you can’t help but notice one is missing. That is until you shift your gaze toward the water where Eddie is already standing just before the very shallow part where the tide rises up and down. The sun is starting to overtake the overcast morning, bringing with it a bright Summer day. There’s a slight breeze and with it, the occasional mist of sea water. His curls are dancing with the wind as he overlooks the water. He hasn’t even taken his black converse off yet, wearing a ripped up black muscle shirt with ‘Metallica' across the chest and black swim trunks.

You avert your gaze as he begins to turn back around toward the beach towels. You remember what Jos said in the car and gather that he’s probably never seen an ocean before. He kicks his shoes off and lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it at Jocelyn’s face and yelling “come on!” before running back down to the water, this time stopping until it's at his waist. Jos throws the shirt down on the chair next to her, tugging her shorts off and then running to the water as well. She reaches Eddie and without hesitation, pushes him forward, sending him face first into one of the waves. You laugh to yourself at the sight but when you don’t see Eddie resurface for a few seconds your heart drops.

Suddenly he pops up from beneath the water, shoving Jos into another oncoming wave which causes her to lose her balance and land ass first as the water rushes over her. Their shouts and giggles are muffled by the sound of the crashing waves as well as Will chattering next to you about some new movie he wants to see.

With courage, you decide to join them inviting Will and El as you stand up and discard your shirt and shorts. El declines, too engaged with her book but Will agrees and follows. The water is ice cold and shocks your body as you take your first steps along the wet sand into the water. But in contrast to the hot sun blazing from above, it also feels refreshing. As you approach Jos, a splash of water meets your face causing you to gasp. “Shit, sorry!” Eddie apologizes. “Yeah sorry, Peach!” Jos emphasizes the nickname, this brings a blush to Eddie’s face but he’s hoping the sun has already burned him enough to cover it.

Scooping up some water with your cupped hands, you toss it at Jos but it does little damage since she’s already been engulfed in the waves and you’re still halfway dry. She starts doing the same, cupping her hands and flinging the water at you, your skin slightly stinging at the cold shock. “Jos, it’s cold, it’s cold, okay—okay!!” You surrender, throwing your arms up in front of you to shield yourself. “Get in dummy!” She splashes once more.

Eddie is standing near you, pulling a piece of stray seaweed out of his curls, his face wrinkled in concentration while his torso is glistening with seawater, sparkling even as the sunlight beams off of him. His chest and arm tattoos are on full display and you subtly try and take them in, your attention drifting to the black widow just below his collarbone. As you scan over the artwork, Jocelyn is now peeking behind Eddie at you, gesturing that she was going to push him yet again. Except this time she pushes him straight into you.

The next thing you remember is slimy skin on skin, the sand scraping against you as your back crashes against it along with some making its way into your swimsuit bottoms, and the loss of breath from the impact of another body on top of you. Eyes scrunched shut and hands clenched, you realize just who is on top of you can you can’t seem to face reality. The tide continues rolling in, covering everything but your face, however you did manage to ingest a large mouthful of seawater on your tumble down, leaving you with a salty aftertaste and sand particles wedged in between your teeth that you might still feel in a few days.

Exhaling a deep breath, you convince your eyelids to flutter open and above you is none other than Eddie, arms on either side of your shoulders and stomach touching yours, a little too intimate for your comfort. His large deep brown doe eyes are looking directly at you with surprise in them, seaweed still hanging from one of his curls. You could swim in his eyes if the world around you paused and he allowed it.

“Um—“ you begin, slowly sitting up. He takes his weight off of you and starts to back up on his knees. “I’m—she pushed me—I’m so sorry.” He stumbles over his words while running a hand through his tangled hair, his fingers getting caught. “No it’s okay—“ “Here.” As he stands up he offers you his hand which you now notice is naked without his chunky rings. His grip is firm but somewhat gentle, you could feel that he was trying to be careful. As his fingertips graze your wrist while he pulls you up, you note that they are slightly rough, most likely calloused from playing guitar and his work as a mechanic.

“Thanks” you mutter almost under your breath, brushing some of the wet sand off of your legs. Eddie still appears to be flustered, his stare not once leaving the water in front of where he’s standing. Everyone else seems to have already moved on from Jocelyn’s stunt, continuing to play in the waves as you recover from the awkward interaction.

Jonathan sneaks behind Will, a beach pale in hand while he silently fills it with water and then dumps it over his head with a maniacal laugh. They’re now the center of attention as they wrestle in between the waves. You’re thankful since it seems no one is going to mention what just happened. What was an innocent joke to Jos and your friends was actually a huge embarrassment in your eyes and your heart was still racing at any attention it may have brought to you.

—

Everyone took a break from crashing into the waves and messing around in the sand to eat lunch when the sun reached its peak in the sky. El started passing around sandwiches, asking each person what kind they requested for the day before delicately handing it to them along with a bag of potato chips. Jonathan tossed beers to Eddie and Jos, offering one to yourself and Argyle but the two of you declining. Argyle opted for a more natural substance whereas being under the influence of anything in public made you anxious.

By this point, Eddie’s shoulders, face, and torso were as red as a lobster since he neglected putting on any sunscreen. Everyone else's faces were sun kissed and slightly pink but nowhere near as bad as Eddie’s wicked sunburn. Your skin felt warm even being sat in the shade of the umbrella, taking Will’s spot next to El. Tan lines began forming, your hair was filled with sea salt, and it officially felt like Summer with the smell of coconut suntan lotion and hotdogs on a grill nearby filling your nose.

Will and El finished off their sandwiches and raced towards the water and not long after everyone else was wrapping up and scarfing down the last bites of their lunch. “I’m gonna go grab a milkshake from the diner, anyone want me to bring anything back?!” You shout as you throw your clothes on, not even bothering to button the denim shorts since you’d be back in the water soon enough anyway. “We’re good!” Jonathan shouts back with a thumbs up just as Argyle dunks him underwater.

“I’ll tag along if that’s cool.” You hear from behind you, not even realizing Eddie had still been lounging in one of the beach chairs with a beer held between his fingers. “What, so you can get even more burned?” You joke as you fish some cash out of your bag. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” He deadpans. His hair is twice as big as it normally is, the seawater giving him some added volume and his curls are extra coiled. Freckles are starting to appear more prominent along his nose and dusting just under his eyes along the tops of his cheeks. He almost looks like a surfer, the ones who are out every morning waiting to catch the biggest wave and you wouldn’t guess that he was from a small town in Indiana just by looking at him. Except for the fact that he has a massive sunburn, that’s what gives it away.

“Let’s go.” You nod toward the pier, sliding your sandals on. He throws his muscle tee back on but leaves behind his shoes, opting to walk all the way to the pier barefoot. “The grounds gonna get really hot.” You warn him as you start making your way over. “Psshh I grew up barefoot, especially in the Summer, I’ll be fine.” He waves you off.

The walk to the pier took about five minutes and you smiled to yourself every time Eddie let out a “shit!” under his breath. He may have underestimated the power of the California sun on the sidewalk that runs alongside the beach. Reaching the pier, you step onto the dark wood and head for the diner at the very end. Men are fishing on either side as you pass by, their poles resting against the railing.

The diner is small and can only seat so many people on the inside. It appears to be older with the wallpaper peeling and the cushions of the stools coming apart, the foam peaking through. Despite this, it’s as popular as ever. Every table is filled and the counter is fully occupied as patrons sip on their milkshakes and stuff themselves with burgers and fries. You can smell the grease from the kitchen, your mouth watering even though you’d just eaten. But the idea of a cookies and cream milkshake is far more enticing at the moment, creamy and delicious, your go to treat.

“Hi, what can I get you?!” The cashier behind the counter greets you with a grin. She’s a small enthusiastic woman with her sandy blonde hair clipped up and wearing a t- shirt with the diner’s logo on the chest. Sandra, her name tag reads. “Just a cookies and cream shake please.” You request kindly. “Make that two.” Eddie slaps down a $20 on the counter. “Oh you don’t have to—I wasn’t expecting you—“ “Already done.” He smirks as the cashier counts out his change, handing it back to him. “I’ll have those out in a few.” Sandra says as she returns to the kitchen window, shouting out the order for two milkshakes.

“Why’d you do that? I have money—here.” You try to place the cash in his hand but he just crosses his arms, hiding them from view. “Consider it compensation for knockin’ you over earlier.” He chuckles. You huff out of frustration, returning to people watching throughout the diner as you wait.

—

Walking down the pier with your milkshake in hand, you and Eddie slowly make your way back. The afternoon is just now shifting into golden hour and with it, Eddie has never looked more gorgeous. At least in the little time you’ve known him. The sunlight brings out new hues of caramel from his irises, a swirl of golden honey and a hint of molasses evident in them and while his skin is bright red he still has a glow to him. Lips plump and pink, he wraps them around the red straw while he enjoys his shake.

“So I’ve never been to the beach before.” He pipes up while he stares at a fisherman reeling in a large catch. “And while it should suck cause this sunburn hurts like a bitch, it’s been fuckin’ cool. Your friends are cool, y’know that?” He asks, dipping his finger in some whip cream from the top of his shake and licking it off. You can’t help but feel insecurity bubbling to the surface within you. Your friends are cool. Which meant that he didn’t include you, right? “Yeah. Yeah they’re pretty great.” You agree with your best smile.

“Yeah it’s way different than back home. It’s kinda like no one really gives a shit what I look like or how ‘scary’ I am.” He uses finger quotes. “Scary?” You ask. He nods as he gulps down some more of his shake. “I won’t get into it but let’s just say Hawkins is probably the worst place to live if you’re me.” He explains simply. “Actually… It is the worst place to live.” He decides. “I’m glad you’re liking it here at least. Are you planning on staying then?” You question as you come to a stop at the pier railing, deciding to remain there until you finish your shake. The horizon is now transforming into a burnt orange as the sunset just barely starts, still enough daylight left but the sun is slowly making its way down, bringing with it hues of pinks, purples, and oranges.

Eddie gazes out into the ocean before him, his shake now finished as he tosses it in a nearby trash can and rests his forearms on the worn down wood of the railing. “Dunno yet.” He says honestly, his eyebrows raising slightly as if to question himself. “There’s no plan. Just trying to figure shit out.” He admits, a melancholy undertone to his words. You take in his body language, his shoulders sunken in some kind of defeat and a barely there pout to his lips. “I think we’re all in the same boat believe it or not.” You try to offer him some comforting words with a sympathetic smile. He doesn’t give up much more to you as he returns a small smile. “I think we should get back before they leave us here.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

But you know. There’s something darker lurking below his surface. But who are you to want to uncover those parts of him if you can’t even offer those parts of yourself to anyone? Why should you be so curious as to what darkness clouds over him when you can’t even confront your own?

Eddie Munson was unknowingly making you question everything you knew. And whether that was a good thing or not was something you couldn’t determine right now.

~end~

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Masterlist

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #Cal dreamin’

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peanut-tyrug · 10 months

Text

Pink City AU: Hunt for the Boxman

Prologue: Part 2 - Stay Optimistic

Elain is a woman full of eagerness and optimism. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s difficult to stay optimistic when your mind is plagued by the confusing and unknown.

—

NOTICE: This AU is partially based on my ideas/interpretation. If anything appears to be inaccurate, I apologize. I tried to work with what little I had to make smth. I also took a few artistic liberties.

Another thing: THE PINK CITY AND IT’S CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME!! IT BELONGS TO GOOSEWORX!! Some canon lore for The Pink City has also been implemented in this story. This is just an AU/story I made based on it. If you’d like to check out The Pink City series itself, check it out here!

—

TRIGGER WARNING: This fic contains death, disturbing imagery, mentions of drugs/tripping, visions/hallucinations, the poking of eyes, existential crises, and trauma. If you aren’t comfortable with these things, please don’t read this.

The Bounty Hunting business is simple, really. There isn’t much to it. Get assigned a target, catch said target, profit.

But when you’re working with someone as young and optimistic as Elain the Bounty Hunter, it doesn’t seem to go as smoothly.

“Your target today is an infamous crook that goes by Gp Donsterly.” Says the CEO of Pointiness, head honcho of the lead Bounty Hunting business in the Pink City, 'To The Point Bounty Hunting'. “He’s wanted for 12 cases of snipping and 57 cases of snapping. I trust one of you two to bring him in alive…”

The Bounty Hunter duo Elain and Dento listen intently to the info given.

“Now, good luck, and have fun!” Says the CEO.

Once the CEO has finished giving his orders, Elain swings into action and jogs over to a nearby window. Dento turns to her as he watches her jump through the window, beginning her plummet to the ground.

“…Oh, dear.” Says the CEO. “You’d best be after her.”

Dento nods and heads out through the exit the CEO’s office. He heads toward the elevator at the end of the hall, beginning his slow decent to the floor.

However, after awhile of standing in the quiet elevator, the power suddenly goes out. The elevator powers down, leaving Dento in darkness. Dento glares around a bit in confusion.

…Did Elain have something to do with this?

If she did, he wouldn’t be surprised.

…What the hell is he going to do now?

—

It’s been a few hours. Maybe even longer. Dento’s been passing time fairly well. How? Daydreaming about how else he could’ve left the building. One particular scenario: Taking the stairs. Although, it appears that he slips and falls down the entire flight.

Shortly after Dento’s daydreaming stops, sounds can be heard from outside the elevator. The sound of approaching footsteps.

“You still in there?” Asks a gruff voice from outside. A repairman.

Dento knocks on the door, indicating that he’s there.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Says the repairman. “Hang tight. I’ll get ya out.”

As the repairman works outside, Dento begins to reflect on his companion.

Was Elain a pain to work with? Occasionally. She’s very quick to react and always excited to set off with her partner. Her eagerness to get on with hunts is what always contradicts Dento’s more organized way of hunting. That doesn’t mean Elain isn’t a good Bounty Hunter however. She’s good at her job, so is Dento.

The thing is though, Elain is spontaneous. Dento is more put together.

That doesn’t mean Dento doesn’t appreciate Elain. He does. He thinks of her as not just a great partner, but also a great friend. He couldn’t ask for anyone else.

They make a great team.

He’d imagine Elain thought that same.

Eventually, the door to the elevator opens. Dento slowly exits the elevator. As he exits, the repairman nods at him. Dento nods back.

As Dento reenters the hall, something catches his eye. A sticky note plastered to the wall.

It reads: 'What’s-Her-Name no longer works here :) -CEO'

Dento’s face remains as blank as it’s always been. However, internally, he can’t help but be in utter disbelief.

…What in God’s name did she do?

—

It’s later in the day. The afternoon. Dento sits alone in front of a small boba tea shop.

One that he and Elain would visit.

He didn’t take Elain’s departure very well.

Dento left his work place bubbling with hatred for the CEO. Elain was likely sitting in the Hunter Pound by now. Completely alone. And he didn’t do anything to help her? Not get her out of that cramped cage?

Dento didn’t threaten to quit though. He needs the money. So does Elain.

Dento only knows what it’s like in the Hunter Pound because his own father works there. Bounty Hunters are left in small cages. A punishment for Hunters that fail to catch a bounty. He can’t help that that’s just basic protocol for the Bounty Hunting industry.

Regardless of protocol, or how Elain normally did things, Dento couldn’t help but feel bad for his friend.

As Dento reminisces his friend, he begins going through photos on his phone. Memories that capture the time he and Elain had spent together.

The pair together at a beach. Getting chased by a ghost during a late night hunt. Trying boba together. Absolutely kicking the ass of a bounty they caught together. The pair holding each other by the shoulders.

The longer Dento stares at the picture, the more he begins to miss his dear partner.

So much so, it brings a tear to his eye.

Dento swipes his screen up, showing his contact list. He taps on Elain’s contact, hoping to just be able to speak with her.

Also to see if she would agree to being let back in the Bounty Hunting business.

He’d only return to avidly working for the CEO if he could let Elain back in.

The phone rings.

And rings.

…And rings…

And yet, no answer.

The line then goes to voicemail.

…Odd.

She normally picks up the phone by the last ring…

Once the phone stops ringing, the sky begins to darken. Rain then begins to slowly fall to the ground.

Dento can only hope Elain is okay. Hope that she’s safe.

…Wherever the hell she may be…

—

Elain was always the optimist. The one always eager to go out and have fun.

Although, her mood has changed a bit.

She doesn’t exactly feel the same anymore.

Elain had gotten adopted from the Hunter Pound. Sounds fine, right?

It’s not.

Elain had been adopted by a strange bulky old man. Someone with a face that you could never forget. A face with only a large mouth and pair of pearly white teeth.

A man that you could never trust.

A man with an odd hobby.

A man who was a bounty.

The man had been accused of 'injecting people with unknown substances'. Said unknown substances would cause one to be drugged, see things. Colorful, vibrant, confusing things.

Elain would know.

She got to experience the sensation first hand.

It hurt her mind. Her soul. Damaged her. Damaged how she functions.

Did she ever kill the man? Yes, but not without having to see her own internal organs and her heart get taken from her.

Along with the privilege of seeing what may have been the God of her world itself.

Shadowy pillars of colorful eyes stand tall before Elain and the now dead bounty Nuzzner Fubs. Looking down upon them from their terrifying height.

“NUZZNER FUBS IS DEAD.” The pillars repeat.

“DOWNLOAD HIS DATA.”

“MAKE USE OF IT.”

The pillars then begin to suck the 'data' out of the man. As Elain squirms in confusion nearby, she gets pulled into the stream as well.

It’s agonizing.

It’s like being electrocuted.

Normally, Pink City citizens are very durable. Able to face and live after any injury as long as it’s not severe enough.

But this…

It’s entirely different.

The pain of it all travels through Elain’s body at tremendous speeds.

Until it eventually stops.

The dead man and former Bounty Hunter are sent away from the Gods. They become further and further distant.

The two eventually make it back to the real world. Nuzzner lands to the ground while Elain shoots back into the man’s trash can.

Elain remains in the trash can for a bit, taking a breather. Trying to comprehend what had happened. She soon begins to rise from the can, and gazes upon a nearby tree.

…Something is off about the leaves…

She looks closer.

…The leaves have taken the shape of Elain’s head.

She looks up.

A large, puffy cloud looms over her.

Although, it appears to have taken the same shape of the leaves.

…Elain’s face.

Elain can’t help but begin to question the reality she lives in. Is anything even real? Is she real? Are they all just code? Data?

…Is this reality just a simulation…?

Elain is snapped out of her existential crisis when she hears a buzzing inside the trash can. She digs through it and finds her phone.

She sees a text from Dento. It reads: 'U ok?'

Elain recalls what had transpired.

She was adopted by a strange man. Got drugged and tripped out. Got to see her internal organs and got her heart removed. Saw God. Got her 'data' sucked out of her, basically electrocuted. Had an existential crisis…

Elain eventually responds with a single word.

'No'

—

Dento gave Elain the address so she can find him. Talk about what may have shaken Elain up. He looks through his phone while he waits. His mind also begins to wander.

He’s starting to think that maybe he should’ve jumped out that window with her… if both have them got caught, he could’ve suffered with her. She wouldn’t be alone. Or, they’d be triumphant in catching that dastardly Gop Donsterly.

He looks up from his phone and waits to see his friend cross his vision. As he looks, he sees a familiar figure pop up on the sidewalk.

That same fedora and Bounty Hunting gear, although, she’s no longer wearing her red scarf, instead, she’s wearing a spiked collar. Elain appears to be fidgeting with her hands as well. She glances around worriedly as she walks.

Dento wonders what could’ve happened to her…

As she approaches the small boba shop, Elain spots Dento, sitting at one of the tables. No one else is around. She quickly rushes over to her friend, almost tripping trying to get to him. She tightly wraps her arms around Dento, hugging him. And almost practically squeezing him. Dento tightly hugs Elain back. He missed her. And she missed him.

Elain eventually separates from Dento and takes the seat in front of him. She sets her hands on the table and fidgets with them. Dento closely looks at her. She appears to be trembling a bit.

After a bit of silence, Dento faces his phone. He taps on the keyboard.

Elain’s phone then dings. She looks at her messages to see Dento has texted her again. They prefer to discuss things through text.

'Do you want to talk about it?' Reads the text.

Elain types back.

'Idk how' It says.

'Why?' Dento asks.

'It’s confusing, sry' Elain responds.

‘Don’t say you’re sry' Dento texts. 'You’re okay. Whatever it is, I’ll get it'

'Are you sure?' Elain asks. 'There’s a lot'

'Yea' Dento responds.

Elain hesitates before texting again, trying to figure out how to explain everything to her friend.

“Excuse me,” says a waiter. “Are you going to order something or just sit there?”

Elain snaps out of her thinking and looks to the waiter. She isn’t sure what to order. She doesn’t even have a menu.

“Take a look.” Says the waiter, pulling out a small menu. Elain points at what she wants.

“Alright.” Says the waiter. “You want another drink, sir?” He asks, now looking to Dento.

Dento shakes his head, a no.

“'Kay.” Says the waiter. He takes his leave.

Elain looks back to her phone and picks it up. She thinks about what she wants to say before typing something up.

Dento looks on as he waits for Elain’s story. It takes awhile, but his phone eventually pings.

'A lot happened. I got adopted, drugged, I tripped out, my heart got removed, I saw… smth' Says one text.

Another text comes in. 'Idk… God? Smth abt data, Idk… I’m confused out of my mind man. I’m having a crisis and Idk what to do. I’m not okay'

Dento looks up from his phone, concern glossing over his eyes. Elain is looking down, looking embarrassed, fidgeting a bit.

…All of that happened?

Happened to her?

It was all so much to take in… so much for her to take in.

Dento couldn’t even believe what he had read… she saw God?

'Wdym you saw God?' Dento asks. 'And the crisis thing?'

Elain picks her phone up and responds. 'Long shadowy pillars? They had eyes all over them. Idek if they were God, that’s just what it felt like. I feel like they were'

‘Were God?'

'Yea'

'What abt the crisis?'

‘Life doesn’t feel real anymore'

Dento looks back up at Elain. Elain glances up from her screen and looks at him. Dento looks back at his phone.

'You telling the truth?'

'Yes. Istg I’m not lying to you'

'Plz God believe me'

'Please'

Each plea is it’s own message.

Dento looks back up at Elain. Elain looks at him back. Genuine desperation glossed over her eyes.

She needs him to believe her.

She’s not making anything up.

Dento then gets up from his seat and goes to Elain. He jumps onto her and hugs her tightly. She tightly hugs him back.

He believes her.

Regardless of how otherworldly it all sounds.

He’s there for her.

They make a good team.

“Hey.” Says a voice. “Here’s your order. You good?”

Dento turns back and lets Elain go. She takes her drink and Dento pays. The two stay and chat for a bit.

'U wanna try and get back into Bounty Hunting?' Dento asks.

'Yea' Elain responds.

'Whenever you’re ready'

'Yea'

—

It’s the next day.

Dento’s slept fine. Elain, on the other hand…

She struggled.

She could barely sleep. Visions of what she saw and experienced plagued her mind. Ate at her as she tried to sleep. It wouldn’t leave. It haunted her. Even without the sleep, she seemed fine enough to return, telling Dento that she’d be able to push it off. Insisting that she could handle it. Multiple times… She seemed so insistent. Why deny her when she’s so certain she’s okay? Even if she had been through something horrible… maybe she’s tolerant to it? She acted that way often.

She tried. Tried to think of anything else. She tries to keep up, no matter how hard it tears her down.

Stay optimistic.

Keep your mind off it.

Although, it’s difficult.

Dento barges into To The Point with Elain by his side, both of them dressed in their Bounty Hunting gear. Dento struts forward while Elain follows. The two head to the elevator, no one is around to see them.

It takes several minutes, but they eventually reach the CEO’s office.

Dento slams the door open, Elain stands next to him. The CEO looks down upon the duo from his desk.

“Dento, I knew you’d—“ The CEO pauses. “…What is she doing here?”

Dento firmly walks up to the CEO’s desk and stands with his hands to his hips. Elain stays by him, not really trying to look convincing.

“Ah, I see.” Says the CEO. “You want her back in.”

Dento nods. So does Elain.

“It won’t be easy, I hope you’re aware of that.” Says the CEO.

Both of them are aware. Once you lose your spot at To The Point, and you want your it back, it takes a good bit of work to get it back in your hands.

“I’ve got a bounty for you, Oinstrius Lethinns.” Says the CEO. “Not much is known about this bounty, no one’s been able to catch it, and it’s been in our sights for years.”

Dento begins looking through his Target Buddy for the bounty, Elain looks over his shoulder. Dento eventually comes across the bounty they’re after.

Elain looks at the bounty in shock.

It’s reminiscent of the pillars Elain had seen.

It looks like a weird spider. Long, lanky, shadowy legs sprouting from it’s center. A singular vibrant eye makes up it’s center and face.

It’s description is unreadable, as it’s written in binary code.

You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. You can do it.

Stay optimistic.

“I’d suggest you stay vigilant.” Says the CEO. “You catch it, your friend here gets her job back. You fail, you both lose your jobs.”

The duo looks up at the CEO, fear swelling up in them.

“Good luck.” Says the CEO. “Don’t jump out the window this time, we’ve recently bought a replacement.”

Dento and Elain nod and head out of the office.

A long day awaits them.

—

It’s been a few hours. Elain and Dento have scoured the city, but no luck. As they looked, they never spotted a single wanted poster for the bounty.

…They’re uncertain of why.

They walk down a sidewalk, thinking the hunt is a lost cause. Both of them will likely end up jobless.

As they pass down the sidewalk, Elain looks to her side. She spots a dark alley way.

She stares into it.

For a split second, she sees something in her vision.

Vibrant, piercing eyes. Staring directly at her.

She begins to tremble. Reminders of what her and Dento’s world may likely be. All of it swirling in her head. Making her head spin.

Little did she know she had tightly grabbed onto Dento’s shoulder out of fear.

Dento taps Elain’s arm. She snaps out of her existential crisis and looks to her friend. He looks at her with concern.

Elain nods, indicating that she’s okay.

Keep your chin up.

You’re fine.

You’ll be okay.

You can do it.

Stay optimistic.

Dento looks to the alley way and points, looking up to Elain. Elain nods. They enter the alley, staying close by each other.

As they walk deeper into the alley, they begin to realize just how far it goes. It feels as if there isn’t an end to it.

As they approach the supposed end… something feels off.

Screaming can be heard.

Someone’s down the alley.

Elain and Dento quickly rush toward the end, running down a path that feels ever so endless. The screaming becoming more and more audible…

…Pleas…

“No!” Shouts the voice. “No! No, please!”

As the duo approaches the end, they turn.

They look on in shock.

A man, sitting defenseless on the ground, in front of the criminal creature…

Oinstrius Lethinns.

As the man continues to plea, a bright beam of light shoots out of the creature’s eye and encompasses the man in a bright blue and violet aura.

Elain quickly recognizes the display.

…The familiar and awful feel…

The man squirms as his data gets sucked out of him, as if he were some kind of juice box to the creature. The beam and light eventually fades. The man limps.

He’s cold. Dead. Lifeless…

Elain and Dento stare at the horror, terror in their eyes.

The creature then turns to face them, staring at them with it’s singular eye.

Dento draws a gun. Elain, however…

She stands there. Completely frozen. Not moving a single limb.

The creature then shoots it’s hanging legs forward.

Toward Elain.

Toward Elain’s eyes.

Into her eyes.

The legs protrude Elain’s eyes like needles. They stab through her cornea and into her retinas. It stings. As Elain struggles to process what’s happening, she can hear gun shots.

Other than that…

Whispers…

“JOIN THE CREED.” The phrase repeats.

“JOIN THE CREED.”

The whispers speak and echo over each other in varying pitches. Terror for the ears. Amongst Elain’s blackened vision, familiar vibrant eyes begin to appear.

…Along with an unfamiliar figure.

The figure is faint and blurry, hard to make out. Almost like a silhouette… broad shoulders, spindly limbs…

…And the most notable and oddly perfect feature…

…A cube head…?

The head slowly rises, looking at Elain with faint, beady eyes.

“JOIN THE CREED.” Says the figure.

Suddenly, the visions disappear and the whispering and stinging stops. Elain falls on her back, normal sounds quickly take over. Gun shots and the sound of terrible demonic shrills.

Elain looks up. Dento is shooting the bounty with a gun. The creature is now writhing on the ground. After a bit, the shrills begin to fade and the creature stops moving.

Dento looks back to Elain and rushes toward her. He looks down at her with a look reminiscent of their texts…

Are you okay?

Elain’s breathing and terrified expression only gives off one word.

No.

—

Elain stands outside of To The Point, completely alone. Dento had caught the bounty and brought it in lifeless himself.

Elain waits for her friend’s return.

Her phone then buzzes. She picks it out from her pocket and sees a text from Dento.

'Told the CEO we’re gonna take a break from hunting for a bit' Says the text. 'I wanna give your head a rest. U need it'

She didn’t want a break.

But she needed one.

She needed a break from all she had witnessed.

She couldn’t help but wonder though…

Who was the figure with the cube head?

—

It’s early the next morning. Elain struggled to sleep again.

The Bounty Hunting pair remains in the separate bedrooms of their small apartment, texting each other.

'I know you don’t want a break but you need one' Dento texts Elain. 'I don’t want you to hurt yourself'

'Ik' Elain texts back.

'Promise me you’ll relax' Texts Dento. 'Please'

'I’ll try' Elain responds.

'Don’t say try' Texts Dento. 'You will'

Elain doesn’t like this.

Would she rather make herself suffer and hurt her friend, or just relax for her friends sake?

Or for her own sake?

'Elain?'

'Yea?'

'U saw my text?'

'Yes'

'Will you take it easy? Please? I don’t want you hurting yourself. When you hurt, I hurt'

'I will. For you. When you hurt, I hurt too'

'I’m glad. Thanks for listening :)'

'Yw :)'

They make a great team.

—

Elain quietly lays in bed, doing whatever she can to keep her mind from pressing on what had happened.

Her mind couldn’t help but hover over the identity of the man she saw.

Who was he? Why was he there? Questions plague her mind.

At least it’s keeping her from thinking about the eyes.

A knock is suddenly heard at Elain’s bedroom door. Dento opens the door a bit, peaking into the room and letting himself in. He closes the door and sets himself on Elain’s bed. He texts her.

‘How you doing?' Dento asks.

'Okay' Elain responds. ‘Can I talk to you abt smth?'

'Yea'

'Yesterday, that creature made me see things. Those same eyes. And a man' Texts Elain.

'Man?' Dento asks.

'He had a cube for a head, beady eyes' Texts Elain. 'Do you know anyone with a cube head?'

'No' Dento responds. 'Maybe try not think abt it. I don’t you stressing over anything'

'I will'

'Good. You need anything?'

'No'

'K, let me know if you need smth'

'I will'

Dento looks over to Elain and pats her shoulder. He then looks back to his phone.

'You need me here or no?' Dento asks.

'I wouldn’t mind it'

'You sure?'

'Yea. Can I have a hug?'

Dento reaches for Elain and hugs her. Elain hugs him back.

Elain is happy she has someone to comfort her.

—

It’s been a few days since Elain’s break had started. She’s doing a lot better. Dento’s been a big help, comforting her whenever she needed to be comforted.

She had finally gotten a good night’s sleep for the first time in days.

Elain and Dento decide to spend the day together. Get some fresh air.

The sun has already set. The Pink City is coated in a soothing purple hue. Some lights from buildings from buildings remain on while others have been shut off.

The duo sits at a table in front of a small gonstri shop, discussing life and Elain’s condition.

As they sit, they hear what sounds like the begging of a crazy person out in the streets…

…Something about helping a celebrity…?

Elain and Dento continue their night, trying to ignore the begging and pleas.

…Until the sound of quickly approaching footsteps begins to catch their attention.

It’s too late, however.

A man dressed in a sparkling violet suit body slams onto Elain and Dento’s table. The man grabs Elain by the shoulders.

“WOULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO HELP A CELEBRITY LOOK FOR HIS IDOL!?” Shouts the man.

Elain darts her eyes around before quickly and swiftly shoving the man away from her. The man continues to stare at her with wide, insane eyes.

Dento rises from his seat and steps by Elain, as if to defend her. He stares at the unknown man intently.

The man looks into Dento’s eyes as fear appears to bubble within him. He scoots himself off the table, but doesn’t leave. Instead, he continues to beg.

“Have you ever heard of a man named Darles Nemeni?” Asks the man. “Darly Boxman?”

Dento shakes his head, a no.

Elain, however, begins to recall the man she saw in her vision…

…A cube head…

Was that the man’s name?

Elain then looks to the man and outlines a box around her head.

The man’s eyes light up. “Yes!” He exclaims, pointing at her. “You know who he is?”

Elain wasn’t sure. She felt like she did…

She shrugs.

“You don’t know?” The man asks.

Elain shakes her head. She isn’t sure. Dento looks over to Elain and begins to text her.

'You heard of a Darles? Darly?' Dento asks.

'No, the guy with the cube head' Elain responds. 'What if that’s who he’s talking abt? Boxman?'

'Oh' Dento responds.

“What are you texting for?” Asks the man.

The duo looks up at the man. Dento shows his phone to the man, trying to indicate that that’s how they communicate.

The man appears to have taken notice of the contact name.

“…Elain?” Asks the man, looking to the pair.

Elain nods. She shows the man her phone to see her partner’s name.

“…Dento.” Says the man. Dento nods once the man turns to face him.

“Well, allow me to introduce myself!” Says the man. “I am TV star Hoonis Boogie! But, just call me Hoonis. Good names, by the way.” Hoonis puts a hand out.

The duo nods as Dento steps foward to Hoonis. He hesitates, but eventually shakes his hand.

“Now that that’s done, would you mind helping look for Darly Boxman?” Hoonis asks. “He’s my idol, and I’ve been trying to find him for years, but to no avail. I’ve considered asking around the city for help, and so far, you two are the only ones who haven’t run away from me! Would you mind lending a hand?”

Dento turns to Elain. Elain turns over to Dento.

Dento’s face reads as 'Can we trust him?'

Elain doesn’t automatically think so. She looks up at Hoonis. He looks back with desperate eyes.

Elain looks back over to Dento and looks back at her phone. She types.

'Not really' Elain texts. 'But I’m willing to try. I wanna find that cube head'

'You sure?' Dento asks, concerned.

'Yes' Elain responds. 'I’m curious and I wanna know who the cube head is. He can’t be that hard to work with, can he?'

'Are you stable enough?' Dento asks.

‘I’ve been doing a lot better' Elain states. 'I’ll be fine'

'You sure?' Dento asks.

'Yes' Elain responds. 'I swear to you, l’ll be okay'

'I’ll take your word for it' Dento responds. 'Let me know if you ever want to step down or you ever need help'

'I will' Elain responds.

Elain and Dento pack their phones in their pockets and face Hoonis. Elain puts her hand out for Hoonis to shake.

Hoonis’ eyes light up with happiness and excitement. He takes Elain’s hand and firmly shakes it. “Thank you, thank you!” He says. “I’m so glad you have the same desires I do!”

Elain nods as Hoonis continues to shake her hand. She’s beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Now, follow me!” Hoonis declares as he begins to drag Elain along by the arm. Dento quickly follows suit.

A grand adventure beyond what is known awaits them.

- END -

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weepingfromacedartree · 11 months

Text

Ten Milestones: Hopes & Dreams

Hi friends! Chapter 5 is now available!

TW: drug and alcohol use

When Colin’s eyes scan over the next milestone, his face lights up in that aggravatingly adorable way it always does when things go exactly his way.

“Oooh,” he gloats. “This is a good one.”

“What?” Penelope asks, impatient. He’s sitting just close enough that she could steal the phone out of his hands if she wanted to, but she resists the urge.

“Number Four: Sharing Your Hopes and Dreams. Before you and your partner make the commitment to share a life together, you must first share what each of you wants out of that future. This conversation is important — not only will it teach you about each other as individuals, but it will also give you an understanding of how you fit together as partners. A strong partnership is made up of two people who support each other’s goals.”

Penelope doesn’t say a word. She simply smiles.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Nine Years Earlier: December 23rd, 2014

Relationship Status: Good Friends

꙳

December 24th, in Penelope’s opinion, has to be one of the worst days a person can be born on. (Third worst to be exact, narrowly being beaten out by December 25th and February 29th.) Every year, the celebration of your birth is overshadowed by the eve of someone else’s birth. Your birthday presents double as Christmas presents. Your friends are too busy with their own holiday plans to celebrate your birthday with you. Hell — most people forget your birthday exists in the first place.

December 24th is a rather shitty birthday for one to possess. But in all the years she’s known him, Colin has never been one to complain.

It helps that the other Bridgertons always make an attempt to separate his birthday celebrations from the holiday he just so happened to have been born on. That’s why these sorts of parties are always held the night before his actual birthday.

Daphne took the anti-Christmas strategy to a whole nother level this year. Invitations went out two weeks ago with a disclaimer at the bottom.

Red and green garments are strictly prohibited on the premises.

Penelope originally wanted to wear a velvet burgundy dress that she found on Dover Street tonight, but the garment has since been banished to the back of her closet. Instead, she’s wearing a dress made of a softer shade of pink.

Now, 57 minutes into the very-much-not-a-holiday-party party, Penelope stands above the Bridgerton foyer with a dark red drink in her hand. Eloise is beside her, grumbling about the many “unique” choices made for this event. (Including her required attendance.)

“I know Daphne banned holiday music, but surely she can play something better than Coldplay.”

“I like Coldplay,” Penelope mutters defensively. Eloise does not seem to hear her above all the other noise in the room.

“Have you seen the birthday boy anywhere? It’s his party and I have not seen him all night.”

“No. I haven’t.”

They’re standing on the second story landing, above the front entrance and foyer where most attendees mingle. This should be an optimal vantage point to look for Colin, but when Penelope scans the crowd, she comes up empty.

“I’m usually the one to pull a disappearing act at this sort of thing, and even I wouldn’t dare do so at my own party.”

Eloise’s words temporarily break Penelope out of her premature worry. She giggles.

“Weren’t you three hours late to your last birthday celebration? Something about needing to go downtown to visit a certain —”

“That’s different!” Eloise cuts in. “That was a surprise party — how was I supposed to know?!”

“Didn’t your family —”

“I thought I was delaying a casual birthday dinner with my mum and seven siblings. Obviously I would have been on time if I knew there were a hundred people crouched in the dark, hiding behind potted plants and couch cushions, just waiting for my return.”

Penelope’s giggles do not let up.

“Is that what you think happened while you were gone?”

“I don’t know.” Eloise literally waves off the question, gesticulating her hands so ardently that she nearly spills all the wine out of her glass. “I’m more concerned about Colin’s whereabouts at the moment.”

“Is something wrong?” Penelope asks, worry rising up in her chest again. It’s squashed just as quickly.

“No. But if I have to suffer through this party, so should he. It’s his fault we’re all here in the first place.”

Penelope scans the crowd once more. Yet again, nothing.

“Knowing Colin, he’s probably in the kitchen.”

“Oooh.” Eloise’s demeanour changes immediately. Her scowl pulls into a smile. “That also happens to be where they store the one thing that could actually make this party enjoyable.”

Penelope lifts an eyebrow, fighting off another bout of giggles.

“And what might that be? Good conversation? An old friend? The ghost of not-Christmas pres—”

“No. Liquor. Perhaps after a few drinks, your jokes will start to sound funny.”

As one final round of giggles bubbles up in Penelope’s throat, Eloise loops their arms together and leads them towards the stairs.

“And after a few more drinks, perhaps Coldplay will start to sound like actual music.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Twenty-one minutes later (and half a vodka cranberry later), Penelope walks out of the kitchen by herself, realising that she has seen every Bridgerton at this party except Colin.

Violet and Daphne had both greeted her at the door. She spoke to Francesca while waiting for the loo. She walked in on a fist fight between Gregory and Hyacinth. Anthony brushed past her to break it up, barely managing to prevent Hyacinth from knocking Gregory’s front tooth out. Benedict was in the kitchen, where he and Eloise are currently having a spirited (but hushed) debate over what Christmas movie to watch tomorrow night.

Glass in hand, condensation already dripping onto her fingers, Penelope walks the Bridgerton halls.

There are people everywhere she turns. Some she knows from her lifetime in Mayfair or from her extensive experience at Bridgerton events. Some she vaguely recognizes from Colin’s social media or from her sporadic trips up to Cambridge. Some she doesn’t recognize at all.

As her footsteps trail forward, Penelope resists the urge to look and listen. To keep listening. To peer into the conversations of these strangers and acquaintances, all while she remains unnoticed.

It’s a game she knows well, but still she resists. She looks for a face far more familiar than these.

Just before her feet can step into the foyer — into the heart of the party — they stop short. Her body moves to the side, leaning rigid into the wooden doorway, hidden beneath the cover of a shadow. On the other side of the room, Colin stands with his back against a wall and his arms crossed in front of him. Clearly, no one informed him of the dress code for his own party; he’s wearing an emerald green cable knit sweater.

(He’s also wearing a light blue birthday hat atop his head — one she can only assume was hand-crafted by Violet Bridgerton.)

He isn’t alone. Daphne stands beside him, body facing him, arms at her sides. They’re talking. Penelope couldn’t even begin to guess what it is they’re talking about, but she can tell from the other side of the room that Colin isn’t happy about it.

He isn’t saying much; Daphne is doing most of the talking.

After a stranger brushes past her, Penelope raises her glass to her lips and takes the smallest of sips. Her mind briefly considers walking over to the other side of the room, but her feet remain firmly planted in her spot in the doorway. She feels a peculiar, paralyzed sensation up and down her legs as she watches their conversation unfold from afar. She can’t help but worry and wonder why Colin looks so defeated at his own party. She also can’t help but deem this conversation too dangerous to peer into uninvited.

“Oh, Pen! There you are!”

Automatically, Penelope’s head turns in the direction from which her name had been called. Eloise is excitedly walking (basically skipping) down the hall towards her.

“You’re coming over tomorrow night, right? Ben is still advocating for Elf, but with your vote I think I can swing us back to the far superior Nightmare Before Christmas.”

“Oh! Yes, I think so. By the way, I found —”

Penelope turns her head, expecting to find Colin exactly where he had been not twenty seconds prior. But he isn’t. Neither is Daphne.

“What?” Eloise asks, now standing in the doorway beside Penelope.

“Nothing.” Penelope shakes her head, then shoots back the rest of her drink. “And just for the record: Benedict is right. Elf is easily the superior Christmas movie.”

Eloise’s jaw goes slack.

“You traitor.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

All night, the only thing Colin wanted was to disappear from his own party. He is aware of how bad that sounds — how he sounds like an ungrateful child instead of a man on the cusp of twenty-two. But even then…

No one can plan for their birthday. He didn’t choose this to be born on December 24th. He didn’t want to have this party to begin with. He couldn’t have predicted that tonight would land in the middle of one of the most uncertain, precarious, bad-mood-inducing phases of his life. It’s not his fault that he’s currently in one of those moods — one that makes the happiness of others feel like a personal attack on you specifically.

A party was the last place Colin wanted to be tonight. Now, he finds himself in a room situated in a more private wing of the house. He’s out of view of the random, too-happy people filling the halls, but close enough to hear the remnants of faraway music. He’s sitting in front of the giant oak that used to belong to his father, arms crossed in front of him and eyes trained on the door to his left. Anthony’s on the other side of the desk, donning an expression that makes Colin wish he was back in the heart of the party.

“Must we have this conversation now? I’m fairly certain mum’s downstairs lighting candles on a cake as we speak.”

That look on Anthony’s face — equal parts annoyance and amusement — does not let up one bit.

“I’ve been trying to have this conversation with you for weeks. It’s not my fault that we had to throw a party in your honour just to keep you at home for more than fifteen minutes.”

“That’s —”

Colin doesn’t finish that sentence. He could attach a million different adjectives to the end of it that would (rightfully) attack Anthony’s character, but none of them would make his words untrue.

“I’ve been busy,” he says instead.

“Clearly.” Anthony puffs out an audible breath of air from his nose as he leans back in their father’s chair. “Seeing as you can’t even make the time for one single phone call.”

For the first time in several minutes, Colin’s arms uncross. His hands move to the arms of the chair, ten fingernails biting into its vinyl surface.

Contrary to Anthony’s claims, they’ve actually had some version of this conversation several times over the last few weeks. Over those weeks, Anthony had suggested, reminded, then demanded that Colin reach out to an old friend of their father’s — one who just so happens to be the head of English Literature at Oxford. Also during those weeks, Colin reminded his older brother that he has no intention of doing so, but such details always seem to fall on deaf ears.

Also contrary to Anthony’s claims, Colin does have plans — or at the very least, dreams for what to do after he graduates from university in the spring. His aspirations simply have nothing to do with Oxford or any other form of higher education. His dreams —

“Is this about Marina?”

Those words break Colin out of the thought spiral he hadn’t realised he had fallen into. They leave him feeling even more annoyed and misunderstood than he had just a moment ago.

“Excuse me? What exactly —”

“This. This insistence to avoid real life. To sulk around and avoid your responsibilities.”

“I am not —”

“It’s fine, if it is!” Anthony offers, sarcasm not lost in his tone. “I get it. Your first real breakup can be hard. But at a certain point, you have to —”

“That was months ago. And I don’t see how a silly little breakup has any bearing on my career aspirations.”

It isn’t until those words leave his lips that he realises how potently they taste of bullshit.

No, this is not about Marina or the ultimate demise of their relationship. Obviously, she has no bearing on any of his future plans. But to refer to their breakup as “silly” or “little” feels dishonest. (On his end, at least. The words are probably more fitting for Marina’s feelings on the matter.)

In truth, Colin had been in a perpetual bad mood since she ended things between them back in August. They only dated for six months, but that was approximately five and a half months longer than any relationship he had held previously. He thought Marina was the love of his life; after their breakup, she admitted that the only reason they ever dated was to make her ex-boyfriend jealous.

At least the relationship had been successful for one of them.

“‘Career aspirations?’” Anthony mocks, pulling Colin out of yet another thought spiral. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”

Now, Colin wishes for nothing more than to strangle his older brother. Instead, he lets go of his tightening grip around the armchair.

“Once again — can we table this conversation for another day? Daphne will kill me if I kill you and thus, ruin her party.”

Anthony rolls his eyes, but nods.

“Fine. But isn’t this your party?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Anthony immediately stands from his chair, but Colin remains sitting. His gaze turns to the left again, pointlessly pointing at that big brown door — wishing against all reason and logic for someone to walk through the precipice.

Just as he always does on nights like this.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

At approximately 11:33 PM, after cutting the cake, after dodging more of Anthony’s questions, after acting like an ungrateful, bad-mood-wielding ass at his own celebration, Colin sits alone.

He’s in the drawing room, perched precariously on the edge of a windowsill. The room is dark, lit by one dying bulb in the lamp by the door. There’s a hastily-rolled joint (a birthday gift from Benedict) between Colin’s thumb and index finger. There’s a cloud of smoke sitting on his tongue and a bitter December breeze drifting in from the open window beside him.

The party he left behind is probably wrapping up right now. People are probably looking for him. He should probably go say goodbye (or even “hello”) to them. He shouldn’t keep himself here, secluded in a well of his own misery. But just the thought of going downstairs and speaking to one of those random, too-happy people fills him with a misery that —

Shit.

The door to the drawing room starts to creak open. Before it can open all the way — before he can even turn his head to identify the perpetrator behind that noise — Colin flicks the joint out the window. When he finally does look over to the entrance across the room, his panic starts to settle.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else,” he says, just as Penelope says, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Even in the dim lighting — even from across the room — Colin can see her cheeks flush pink as she laughs nervously and steps across the precipice. Thankfully, she shuts the door closed behind her.

“Sorry,” she says again. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”

“Not at all.” He shuts the window before standing from his spot. He meets Penelope halfway on the light blue couch in the middle of the room. “Quite the opposite.”

As she walks closer, her cheeks grow just a little more pink. The nervous smile drops though, her face settling into a look Colin has become quite familiar with over the years. He knows there’s a question behind it — something gnawing at her insides, begging to be asked aloud. Given his admittedly odd behaviour and the fact that this is the first time they’ve spoken all night, he feels rather confident about what question he’s about to be asked.

But he’s wrong.

“What happened to your birthday hat?”

“Fucking hell,” he unconsciously mutters. The words slip from his lips as his hands raise to the crown of his head. “Forgotten by a tray of eclairs. I think.”

That gnawing expression on Penelope’s face drops. She giggles.

“Shall we go look for it before your mum catches on?”

“No.” It isn’t until that word shoots off his lips that he realises how deeply he despises the idea of being anywhere except this spot on the couch. “Mum will forgive my carelessness.”

Penelope nods, a soft hum of agreement on her lips.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding up here instead of by that tray of eclairs?”

Colin’s first instinct is to deflect. He opens his mouth to do so — but before he can say anything, he’s suddenly hit by a wave of clarity that doing so would be wrong. That Penelope already knows something is up with him and lying to her would do neither of them any good. The epiphany is almost certainly a consequence of the weed he inhaled approximately 60 seconds ago, but still…

“Just in a bit of a shit mood. Which — I should really apologise for. To you and the hundred other people held hostage by said shit mood all night.”

Penelope’s face flashes with an expression different from inquiry, but just as familiar to him after all these years: worry.

“Don’t apologise.”

Maybe it’s the joint currently burning a hole in his mother’s lawn. Maybe it’s the deflection finally breaking through. Maybe it’s his inherent need to pull the worry off Penelope’s face, but Colin cannot help but smirk.

“Sorry. I’ll try to remember to stop doing that.”

“Why are you in a shit mood?” she asks, seemingly unphased by his facetiousness.

Colin shrugs.

“Not in the Christmas spirit this year, I suppose.”

“I don’t see how that’s of any relevance, considering the fact that this is not a Christmas party. In fact, I believe any mention of said ‘Christmas spirit’ has been banned entirely.”

“Bloody hell.”

Colin runs a hand across his face, literally wiping away that smirk.

“I told Daphne to relax on the ‘rules’ for this thing. Actually — I told her to skip this party altogether. To just tack on a birthday cake to the usual Christmas Eve celebrations tomorrow. Unfortunately, I don’t believe my input is of much relevance on the subject.”

Penelope remains quiet for a second longer than Colin feels is necessary or comfortable. In those few seconds of waiting, she sports a new expression on her face. This one is harder to read than the ones that came before.

“Is that why you two were arguing before?” she finally asks. And when Colin simply gives her a look of confusion, she clarifies, “I saw you two talking in the foyer earlier tonight. You looked a bit… I don’t know. Cross?”

Once again, Colin feels himself hit with a desire to drop his faux-nonchalance and charming deflection. To speak plainly. If there ever were a person to be candid with, surely it’s Penelope. Throughout the entirety of their friendship, she has only ever regarded him with an open mind. All his life, she has been so constant and loyal. If there is anyone he should be discussing matters such as this with, surely it’s her.

Surely.

“No, that wasn’t what we were talking about. As silly and unnecessary it may have been… You know how excited Daphne gets about these parties. I didn’t want to complain. Not that directly, at least. We were, uh —” He clears his throat. “We were actually discussing my post-uni plans.”

In the relative darkness surrounding them, Penelope’s eyes light up with eager curiosity.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Anthony has been on my ass for weeks regarding the future — which is completely out of character from him, I know. But I… I don’t know. Anthony isn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to about that sort of thing and I… I thought it would be easier to talk to Daphne about it, but…”

The longer he speaks, the more apparent it becomes that his usual capabilities for completing sentences have seemingly slipped away from him. It’s probably the weed, but…

“What are your plans?” Penelope asks, filling the interim silence. “It’s fine if you don’t know yet, of course. Not everyone has to know exactly what they want to do after uni, but —”

“No, I do have plans,” Colin is quick to clarify. “They’re just a bit… mad. According to Anthony, at least.”

“Oh.” Penelope shifts in her spot, sitting up a bit straighter. A wicked smile creeps up her lips. “Well, that’s much better than no plan at all.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I guess so.”

“So what are these mad plans, exactly?”

“Well,” Colin can feel his body sink just a little bit deeper into the couch cushion as he continues, “you know how I’ve always wanted to travel?”

“Of course,” she says, a softer smile suddenly appearing on her lips.

“I always thought of that as some far away dream. Like, once I become an actual adult and have my life figured out, then I can take time off from my ‘real life’ to go see the world for myself. The only problem was…”

His voice trails off again, still unsure of what words he could use to best describe what lies in his heart. Thankfully, Penelope describes it for him.

“You never had any dreams for your so-called ‘real life?’”

“Exactly.”

Though the window has since been shut tight, the air in the room remains quite cold. And yet, Colin feels a sudden warm sensation in the center of his chest; he does his best to ignore it as Penelope opens her mouth again.

“So you want to make a career out of travelling the world?”

“Something like that,” he mutters, his shoulders unconsciously shrugging upwards. “Though, when you put it like that… maybe I can understand Anthony’s reservations on the subject.”

“Don’t say that,” Penelope insists, a gentle breath of nervous laughter on her lips. “Lots of people’s jobs revolve around travel. There’s nothing wrong with that.” With another tiny laugh, she adds, “And I’m sure a business degree from Cambridge will be useful in securing those future plans.”

“I don’t know how true that is,” he admits, the words tasting sour on his tongue.

In truth, Colin had no idea what he wanted to study or work towards when he first started at Cambridge at eighteen. He had chosen to study business simply because it seemed like the rational choice to make at the time. Unlike his older brothers, both of whom knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives before they hit secondary school, Colin was late to such a realisation. It wasn’t until very recently that his hopes and dreams for the future started to solidify.

“What do you mean?” Penelope asks.

“Well, obviously any degree from Cambridge will be useful for my future. I just meant…” He sucks in a cold breath of air. “If I were to go back in time and do it all over again, I wouldn’t have chosen business. I think I would have, uh, chosen something more in line with English Literature.”

Once again, Penelope’s face lights up in the darkness.

“You want to write?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles again. “I think so.”

“Colin, that’s —” Penelope’s hand, which had previously been sitting limply in her lap, moves as if she’s about to reach out and touch his shoulder. It doesn’t in the end. It now rests on top of the couch in the space between them. “That’s a great idea. Truly.”

That warm feeling makes a sudden reappearance in Colin’s chest. Again…

“Really? You’re not worried about what will happen if you’re no longer the only writer in this friendship?”

“No,” she insists, almost sounding defensive. “The world needs more good writers.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s fair to say —”

“You’re a good writer, Colin.”

At her words (and the adorably serious manner in which she spoke them), Colin cannot help but laugh.

“And you know this based on what? A few emails?”

To claim Penelope has only received a “few” emails from him feels disingenuous. But still, he struggles to see her point.

He sent the first email in January, shortly after returning to Cambridge from winter holiday and approximately six weeks after Penelope’s father passed. The email wasn’t about her dad or uni or anything in particular. If anything, it was a compilation of random thoughts (and several puns) he had collected in his brain in the five days that passed since they last spoke.

He sent that first email on a Friday. She responded on the following Monday. He sent another on Friday. She responded again —

Suffice to say, a pattern emerged. Both of them missed a few Mondays and Fridays over the last eleven months (especially around the end of the spring term and the termination of his relationship with Marina), but even then…

Penelope has read more of Colin’s writing than anyone else. More than even his professors at Cambridge.

“Yes, based on a few emails, Colin,” Penelope insists, rolling her eyes lightly. “Really, you are such a terrific writer. It doesn’t matter if it’s in an email to a friend — or in a term paper or a book or whatever it is that you want to do. I can tell that you like to write, and that’s really the fundamental requirement for becoming a writer.”

That warm feeling in Colin’s chest is back and it feels like it’s about to leave a rash on his skin.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Colin sighs and leans a few inches away from Penelope.

“Well… Thank you. But I believe Anthony would protest that last point.”

“What do you mean?” Penelope asks, similarly drawing a few inches backwards. Her left hand falls back into her lap from the couch cushion.

“Anthony is of the mindset that liking something isn’t enough of a reason to upend your life for that thing. He thinks the idea of me running off to another country after graduation and writing about my experiences is ‘silly.’ That if I want to be a writer, I should stay put, apply for a graduate program, and actually learn how to become one. Which…”

His voice trails off, because saying it all out loud makes his own plans sound a lot more “silly” than he had originally thought.

“Well…” Penelope starts. “In fairness to Anthony’s perspective, you can’t wake up one day, decide to be a lawyer, then go litigate a murder case at the courthouse down the street. But becoming a writer… It’s different than becoming a lawyer. Maybe Anthony isn’t the best person to talk to on the subject.”

Colin nods, a vague hum of agreement on his lips as he thinks over her words.

Maybe not so silly, after all.

“And Daphne? What did she say?”

“Oh.”

He had almost forgotten why they’re having this conversation in the first place.

“She was more supportive than Anthony. I think I was just a bit frustrated because she didn’t seem to fully understand what it is that I want to do. She thinks I just want to fuck off for a year, then come home and figure out what to do with my ‘real life.’ Attend postgrad, get a job in an office, do… Do whatever it is that real adults do.”

Penelope doesn’t say anything right away. She’s looking at him in that way that makes it clear that she has a lot to say and is still figuring out how to say it. Before she can, he opens his mouth again.

“I shouldn’t be cross with her. Or Anthony, even. I just think — for my own sake — I need to commit to the idea. To go out and try to make something of myself without having a backup plan to revert to if I don’t succeed within a year’s time.”

“Then you should go for it.” Her words come out quickly, in one determined breath — like she needs to get the words out before he continues rambling. “Anthony will come around. He probably just needs some time. And perhaps some perspective.”

“Yeah, may—”

“What is it that you want to write, by the way?” Penelope asks, interrupting whatever further deflection he was surely about to throw her way. “A book about your travels?”

Colin considers the question.

“No, I was thinking more in terms of a blog. Or,” he laughs, “a magazine, if they’d hire me. But I do like the idea of writing a book one day. Not any time soon, but once I’m older and wiser and have lived a little more, I think I’d like to have some written recollection of my experiences to look back on. That’s sort of the magic of writing, you know?”

Penelope doesn’t confirm that last bit. She stays quiet as she gives him a look that says, “keep going.”

“Like… When I was at Aubrey Hall last summer, I got bored one day and went snooping through my grandfather’s old study. When I did, I found this cardboard box in the back of his closet. It held all these little mementos from when he was on tour back in the forties. He kept so many journals from that time — all filled with these little details about what his life was like. Leaving England for the first time. Seeing the Eiffel Tower. Eating strudel in Vienna. Skinny dipping in the Danube. Wa—”

When Penelope lets out a surprised giggle, Colin can’t help but laugh, too. The bad mood that had been plaguing him all night has long since been forgotten.

“Anyway… I read through approximately five years worth of those stories in one afternoon, and I just — I couldn’t help but think about how lasting the written word is. My grandfather died before I was born, and yet I learned so much about him just because I happened upon those old journals. Just because he sat down one afternoon seventy years ago and decided to write about the time he and a bunch of his army buddies stripped naked and jumped into a river.”

Penelope laughs again. So does Colin.

“I just — I like that idea. That —” He inches forward to grab a little white napkin from the coffee table. “I could grab a pen, write about all the delectable food we ate here tonight, hide this in an archaic book on the shelf over there, then seventy years from now, my grandson could find it and understand just how ardently his grandfather loved eclairs.”

Penelope laughs again. This time, the laugh is strong enough to make her lose a little bit of her resolve; when she tips forward, her forehead lightly brushes against his shoulder.

“But like I said…” He says, only once Penelope has returned to an upright position on the next cushion over. “I think I need to live a little more before I even think about writing something as definitive as a book.”

“Well… Whatever you end up writing, I’ll read it.”

Colin laughs again. He can’t help it.

“You know — you’re quite the loyal reader, Pen. First you put up with my weekly long-winded, rambling emails, now you’re —”

“I don’t ‘put up’ with anything, Colin. You’re a terrific writer. I always enjoy reading your emails. Even if they almost always include one too many puns.”

“That’s debatable,” he mutters defensively, only able to cling onto those last few words.

“Even with the jarring amount of puns in your work —”

“Hey!”

“— your writing is good. You obviously have a passion for it, and that matters a hell of a lot more than a lit degree.”

Penelope takes a breath. Speaking a bit more softly now…

“Possessing a passion is important. It will fill your hours with a sense of purpose. When others doubt you or success seems illusive, that passion will drive you to keep going. To achieve something definitive — something you can look back on decades from now and be proud of.”

When Penelope stops speaking, Colin is reminded of that inability he possessed just a few minutes ago — the one that made it impossible to finish his sentences without trailing off into oblivion. It definitely wasn’t the joint. (The more he thinks about it, the more apparent it becomes that Benedict’s “present” was nothing more than a few grams of oregano rolled into a little white paper.)

No. A few minutes ago, Colin was unable to properly put his hopes and dreams into words without trailing off or sounding like an arsehole — just as he has been unable to do for several months now. But now…

Now he can. Now it all makes sense.

After thanking Penelope for her kind, insightful words, Colin decides it is time for this discussion to alter course.

“And what of your dreams, Pen?”

Penelope doesn’t answer right away. Though the room around them is still rather dark, Colin’s eyes have adjusted enough to see the blush that quickly forms on her cheeks.

“You know I’m studying to become a journalist,” she says, which is more of a protest of his question than an actual answer.

Of course he knows that. Unlike Colin, Penelope knew what she wanted to do with her life long before she began attending university. But despite their increased correspondence over the last few months, Penelope never really talks about why she made that choice.

“Obviously. But what is it that you’re so passionate about? What fills your hours with purpose?”

She considers his questions.

“I don’t know. I always loved reading, and that just naturally bled into a love of writing.”

“Okay,” he says belatedly, not initially realising that was her entire response. “But why journalism? Why not fiction or poetry or —” Colin chuckles. “Travel writing?”

“I don’t know,” she says again. “I just — I’ve always been interested in people’s stories. Real people’s stories. One day, I might wake up and suddenly want to write a romance novel or a children’s story, but right now… Journalism feels like the right fit for me.”

After another prolonged silence, Colin asks, “What interests you about real people’s stories?”

“I don’t know,” she says for a third time. “People are just so… complicated. Everyone has a million stories inside of them. That’s the fun part of interviewing people — finding ways to get those interesting, hidden details into the light.”

In the back of his mind, Colin wonders if Penelope has been practising that particular skill on him during this conversation. He waives the thought away before it can fully develop.

“Is there an area of journalism you’re specifically interested in?”

Before answering his question, Penelope scrunches her nose, then lets out a forced breath of laughter.

“Colin, I don’t know why you’re getting so caught up in the small details of it. What my dream is now could be different than what it is ten years from now — or even two years from now. However I choose to spend my hours, I just hope that I have a purpose to drive me. Something satisfying and fulfilling. Something that will challenge me to be brave and witty. Something to propel me forward and set me free.”

It takes Colin a moment to realise that he has been stunned into silence. Thankfully, he’s able to pull himself out of the daze with a little effort.

“What could possibly measure up to all of that?”

She shrugs. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

They sit in a shared silence for a moment. Colin wishes he could hear what is going on in Penelope’s head; his is filled with her voice.

Something to propel me forward and set me free.

“I think it’s amazing that —”

“Oh, stop,” she says, another forced laugh on her lips. Though she remains rooted in her spot on the couch, Penelope’s face turns away from Colin and towards the nearest door. For the first time in several minutes, he remembers that there’s still a party going on downstairs. His party.

“It’s late,” she says. “Don’t pay too much mind my silly little words.”

“I think your dreams are bigger than you let on, Pen.”

She turns back towards him, eyes meeting his again through the darkness.

“Weren’t we discussing your dreams?”

Yes, but he much prefers this subject.

“I —”

“What’s holding you back? Is it just your siblings’ reactions?”

“No,” he admits. “There are certainly bigger obstacles than Anthony’s lack of enthusiasm.”

“Such as?”

Colin doesn’t respond right away. While his concerns may be easier to conceptualise than his hopes or his dreams, they’re harder to speak aloud.

“Well… Working as a travel writer would also mean spending the majority of my time away from home.”

For the first time tonight, a strikingly sad expression flashes on Penelope’s face, as if it is only now that she realises the consequences of Colin’s dreams coming true. It’s only a flash, though. Her smile makes a quick reappearance, even if it isn’t quite as bright as it was before.

“You already spend the majority of your time away from home.”

“Yeah, but Cambridge is only two hours away. Plus, Eloise is there to annoy me if I’m ever feeling homesick. If I’m off in a different timezone the majority of the year…”

His voice trails off again. This time, Penelope doesn’t jump in to fill the lull.

“Is it awful to say I’m worried that life will move on without me here if I’m away?”

“No, it’s not awful.” Penelope’s smile looks even sadder than it did before, but it doesn’t drop. “I think a lot of people worry about that, regardless of their career paths. I think that’s just part of growing up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…”

Her voice trails off as she looks away from him and towards the ceiling, seemingly racking her brain for the right words to use. It only takes her a few seconds to find them.

“When you’re growing up, your world is pretty small. You have your siblings and your neighbours and your friends at school, and for the most part, that world is stable. Some people move away and you lose touch with others, but most people remain a constant. But then as you get older and leave for uni or work or wherever it is that life takes you, the world is suddenly really, really big.

“Those people who made up your entire world when you were younger are still there, but their lives aren’t intertwined with yours like they used to be. It’s more like they’re running parallel. Like… you know all those emails we send back and forth?”

It takes Colin a rather long moment to respond, and all he can muster in the end is a single nod.

“We’re still in each other’s lives, but the stories we share with each other are… separate.”

It takes him even longer to respond to that last part.

“Pen… Was that meant to be reassuring? That was the most depressing thing I’ve heard in my entire life.”

“Oh stop.” Penelope laughs half-heartedly. “It’s not depressing — it’s just life. Actually, it’s a bloody miracle. We should be thankful that our friendship has lasted so long, despite how much our worlds have changed over the years.”

After another extremely long beat of silence, Colin musters what little energy he has left to draw the faintest hint of a smirk to his lips.

“So, what you’re saying is… You will not miss me if I disappear to a different country every week?”

Penelope’s forced smile finally drops. She rolls her eyes.

“Obviously, I’ll miss you. But that’s no reason for you to stay home and prevent yourself from reaching your full potential.”

And just like that, Colin is eighteen again, not seconds away from turning twenty-two. He and Penelope are on Fife’s rooftop, not on the couch in his family’s drawing room. He’s hopeful for the future, not scared that their friendship won’t survive this next phase of life.

“I —” Penelope starts, back on the couch in his family’s drawing room. Colin has no idea what it is that she is about to say, because he leans in and hugs her, incidentally muffling her words with his cable knit sweater.

With his lips practically in her hair, he whispers, “Thank you. For being so supportive.”

Penelope doesn’t respond until approximately 25 seconds later, after she breaks the embrace apart and looks him in the eye.

“You don’t have to thank me for my silly little words.”

Before Colin can find an adequate response to such a ridiculous statement, Penelope removes herself from his touch completely. She stands from her spot on the couch and looks down at him as she continues speaking.

“It’s getting late, I should get…”

Her voice trails off when her eyes land on her phone. She smiles.

“Look,” she instructs, holding up the screen for him to see.

12:01 AM.

“Happy Birthday, Colin.”

Now standing beside her, Colin takes the phone from her hands, smirks, then throws it gently onto the couch. The cushions are still indented in the spots they sat together.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Pen.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“No debating that one, I suppose. What’s next?”

#I have to stop posting at 3 am #it took me 2 days to realize there was no link in this post #(and another day to realize I added the wrong link!)#(all fixed now. if I manage to post on time without tech issues on friday I'll invade France)#polin #fanfiction #bridgerton #weepingfromacedartree #fanfic #ao3 #ten milestones #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin

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headingalaxys-spicy · 2 years

Note

how would a yandere america, japan, and germany put up or deal with a defiant and unruly darling? especially one who is kidnapped and very non-compliant? love your work as always ❤️

Thank you Anon 😊

Anyways It’s FRI-YAY ! Enjoy!

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

He’ll start with mid-manipulation tricks at first. He prefers to not have to capture you and just lead you to his home and you ‘accidently’ just stayed at his house and never left. There will be gas-lighting, guilt-tripping, flattery, and especially love bombing. These tactics are all part of his arsenal of psychological tricks he’ll use to rope you in. When he does get to the end of this rope in patience in trying to wrangle you in.

Give him 6-months, that's all the patience he has.

“But babe! You promised we’d go get drinks on Thursday! You always bail on me like this.”

Even though you never told him that you could go. You couldn’t the case you were working on needed added time and special attention. Your client was depending on you to not lose the account and other assets in case.

“Look Alfred, I know you have all the time in the world to fuck around but some of us need to work harder than the devil to win cases.” You brush past him in a huff. You were irritated that he’s asked you five times in the same day.

‘Doesn’t that lazy idiot have something better to do than bother me? Fuck’s sake!’ You hurry to your office where you have a long conference call with the client’s opposing lawyers. You were going to try and broker a deal.

The air that whooshed past you had sparks that ignited America’s fury. You didn’t see him slide his glasses into his case. They uncovered the dark blues that had a malevolent flash.

He’ll nab you right as you’re leaving work at eleven-ish at night.

While you’re living with him he’ll do everything he can to put on the facade of being a “Hero”. He’ll tend to you hand and foot while he has you chained to the bed frame by your ankle. The chain is lengthy enough only to allow you to roam around the wide room.

You’re an aggressive lawyer so you do fight him a lot. You absolutely show that you hate his guts and you won’t behave for shit. You want to make sure America catch’s deez hands.

“FUCK YOURSELF!” As you grab the lamp from the nightstand and toss it at him. The loud shatter of the glass light fixture signaled an unfortunate fate for you. The reality shattering moment you’ve solidified your demise. America will dodge it and be shocked that you’re aggressive as hell even after he’s been patient for all of these months.

“Dude you have anger issues like Romano. Stop babe it's okay!”

“IT'S NOT OKAY! YOU KIDNAPPED ME YOU ASSHOLE!” You spit near his feet. “And when I get out of here I’ll DRAG you in court!”

Those were fighting words. It had been months since he’s tried to maintain his restraint. There’s a reason why you’ve managed to give him a few scars and bruises here and there. He’d been holding back his strength the entire time. No more will this be the case once you said the word “court”. It’s cute to him really that you thought you had power. That you had control. But no more.

America is going to make you into the way he wants and he doesn’t give a fuck how.

“Alright Y/N. Since you want to act like an asshole to me and can’t love me right…” His stormy blues glare gives you a pinch in your stomach.

“Would you prefer to be drugged or have your brain be mechanically rewired. You have 10 seconds to choose or I’ll do it for you.”

🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪

He adores your work ethic as the secretary general of the United Nations. <Yes, we gettin a little meta in this post.> He practically showers you with praise whenever you do something that he deems is becoming a world leader. I.E. You probably called someone out for bullshitting you, refined a project that you oversee so it could be optimal politically, socially, and financially. You made sure that you picked reliable undersecretaries. You banged your gavel with dutiful force. And most of all you made the major mistake of making him your under secretary for Financial and Economics.

Germany’s mind is in a lovestruck haze and in awe at your mettle, whenever shit hits the fan. You don’t turn and run. You stay until the wee hours of the morning. Raw dedication. You were propelled by the excitement of the chaos and the pressure cooker like situations that you found yourself in. You loved to think on your toes. Except for when Ludwig ruins that to some degree.

It’s a sudden world shaker when he admits that he has feelings for you. You think it’s the most unprofessional thing ever and that’s vexing for you. Ludwig of course thinks this could be advantageous for the both of you to be a political power couple of sorts. He thinks that now that he’s managed to reign in the hoard of hearts in his head, all should be well and good.

But being the high powered badass you are, you politely turn him down.

“I’m sorry, Ludwig but being in a relationship isn’t for me. But, you’ll find someone. Anyways Schönes Wochenende! Tschüss.” As you’re walking backwards and speed walk away from him into the dark indigo colored night. You tried not to think about it. You didn’t want to think about it but ….

‘Did he have a deranged look in his eyes? No. No! The lighting is bad and it’s late. I’m probably a little delirious. But, I do need to get the report for the environmental committee done tonight.’

While you worked deep into the moonless night. As you worked you stared at the pages with a seemingly infinite amount of words you begin to doze off. All thanks to the tranquilizer dart that slips sleeping meds into your bloodstream.

Germany always has plan B-Z. So, plan B it is: Kidnap and Correct your behavior through rigorous discipline. You followed his orders somewhat. Although you were difficult for most days. When he suggested that the two of you share a bed together you attempted to suffocate him with one of his hefty pillows.

One of the only things that you did without trying to fight or argue with him was exercise. Since you were in the forests of Bavaria with only books and an airtight phone that can only call him and emergency medical services, you welcomed the scenic views of the black forest. But, you also had a plan to escape. While you were making your rounds on a path that you thought could provide you with the most cover you bolted for it while he had to tie his shoe.

“VERDAMMTE SCHEIßE!“ He springs up after you.

“Y/N DAMN IT! GET BACK HERE!” You tried not to let your blood run cold and keep it hot and pumping through your veins with adrenaline. The fury radiating off that command was like explosive fireballs.

‘I’m as good as dead if I can’t lose him here.’ You jump into a raging river that had a calming sound to it that doused your ear from Ludwigs inflammatory statements. Ludwig lunges in after dragging you under the fearsome current. You kick and flail your limbs around in a futile attempt to break his iron-like grip on you. Like a boa constrictor around a small mouse. Even with your strength you’d been honing for a few months it wasn’t up to par with his. Not even close. He stabs you with a much more potent version of SCHLAFSTERNE (Sleep Stars). His disappointed and stormy sky blue eyes fade from your vision as you slip into an eternal blackness.

When you come to you’ve had a jumbo-sized tracking device on your ankle. It was designed to administer sleep drugs, track you, and make noise whenever you tired to make your escape from the house and would not stop until you return.

🇯🇵 Japan 🇯🇵

From the crowd he loved watching you give your all on the stage. Your movements were precise and your voice was sublime. In fact to Kiku everything about you was sublime. Which is why he had to have you. He was a massive stan for you. Even though he may not have been cheering or dancing he did have hearts, stars, and fireworks in his pools of honey. While in his stomach butterflies had a Coachella-esque party.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d met him. He spent loads of money just so he could see most of your live performances and so he could have all of your merch. Kiku even went as far as to pay

394,269 Yen ($3,000 USD) for meet and greet tickets… at EVERY. SINGLE. CONCERT. He attended. Mans is dedicated to you.

When he finally summons up the courage to ask you out, you gave him a polite but firm “no.” You didn’t want to date a fan and find out they were crazy as hell. Well too bad for you Kiku had way more influence, sway, and power than you did. Way more than you ever could have imagined. One night while on tour in Japan you never make it to your Tokyo venue. And all your millions of fans were left to craft conspiracy theories on your whereabouts.

Kiku roams in humming one of your love songs you collaborated with Perfume.

“Y/N how are you today? Will I finally be able to take you on a date at that upscale restaurant called Towers.” He was itching to fulfill his fantasy of having a spellbinding evening with his perfect darling and great food. But, that was a struggle considering that the months you’d been living with him you hardly tolerated looking in his general direction.

You’ve punched him in the jaw and chipped his tooth when he let his guard down once. Another time you scratched him when he tried to hold you close. You’ve slapped him when he dared to imply that you were married to him. You were having none of his bullshit.

Currently you were strung up to the ceiling in a beautiful (kimono /yukata), (favorite color) and immobilized by the hundreds of feathery metal strings that had been attached to your appendages. You were levitating helplessly in the air all for Kiku’s viewing pleasure. Since it was highly dangerous for him to contain you in any other way.

“How the hell do you think? Awful.” You spit the statement at him with piping hot ire. You started to struggle against your web like restraints.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Let’s see if I can make you feel differently Y/N.” He pulls a controller from his pocket and enters in a code. The webs tighten around your arms and legs and headphones are placed on you. It’s playing a hypnotic melody that dulls your senses . Kiku amps up the subliminal messaging up to a 10.

Kiku Honda was going to have his darling one way or the other.

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