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missmonsters2 · 1 year

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Mirror, Mirror | Five

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART FOUR

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Deleting the video evidence of Wanda's embarrassing confession only goes slightly awry, and in the end, she can't tell if she's relieved or disappointed with herself. Perhaps she can get advice from someone who was once in her position.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: There's still an epilogue after this!! But after that, it's done </3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4,6k

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Wanda jiggles her key through the door with a renewed rush. Her hands are shaky, and she should really just take her time. This wasn't making it go any faster.

Darcy had just dropped her off after they ate their McDonald's meal in the parking lot and was on her way back to get access to her laptop to help Wanda.

Finally unlocking the door, Wanda took her shoes off haphazardly and took off towards your room. Your laptop sits innocently at your desk, unaware of all the havoc Wanda will reap upon it if it doesn't give her access to your email.

She pulls out the chair and sits down before she opens it up. The first thing that greets her is the password page. Wanda pulls out the USB that Darcy gave her and plugs it in. All she can do now is wait since Darcy said she'd text Wanda once she made it home.

The next 15 minutes feel like a bottomless pit of hell. Wanda checks her watch every couple of minutes, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Come on, come on, come on," Wanda huffs quietly. She's extremely paranoid about what you might be doing. It's unlikely you'd be returning home tonight, and even if you were, it'd be a couple of hours from now.

Yet, the unhinged part of Wanda wants to pull out her phone and text you, "Hey, what's up? You're still busy sexing up Raye, right? Definitely not ideal, but you're not checking your emails or on your way home, right?

Wanda wishes she made Natasha go stakeout Raye's house to alert her when you were leaving the place. Before she can think more insane thoughts, her phone vibrates in her hand, and Wanda checks it with speed. It was from Darcy confirming she'd made it home and it'd be any minute now.

Wanda looks up at your laptop screen, pushing her finger against the mousepad to ensure the screen doesn't time out. The USB must give Darcy some kind of access because, true to her word, something does start happening.

Wanda watches the screen with mild interest as a separate window pops up. The background is black, but it's clearly some kind of coding as random words begin running. It takes a few minutes, but then asterisks fill your password box. It only takes 3 times before the right password is entered and Wanda's gained access.

"Yes!" She celebrates before she sends Darcy a quick text.

Wanda pulls up your email and finds the latest one sent to you is a link to a Google Drive. There are many videos and some photos, but Wanda recognizes herself in one of the thumbnails and clicks on it.

"I don't see what's so great about Raye—"

Wanda immediately stops playing it, unable to bear the embarrassment of hearing herself. She quickly deletes the clip, also going to the trash bin to make sure it's permanently deleted. Wanda checks everything several times to ensure there are no other clips and any trace of her confession is gone.

Mission completed.

Relief floods her system, knowing that the clip has been deleted.

Wanda closed everything she opened, making sure she changed the status of the email to unread. Once everything is as it was, Wanda closes your laptop and unplugs the USB.

Stuffing the USB into her pocket, she's about to send another text to Darcy when Wanda hears the front door open, and you call out her name. You must've seen her shoes at the door, but Wanda still doesn't answer. She hears you walking back down the hallway toward your room and panics.

Oh, god, she couldn't walk back out that door without bumping into you, and she couldn't jump out the window either with them living on the 10th floor.

Oh, fuck, what does she do? Wanda's panicking as she shakes her hands in hysteria and looks around frantically.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Wanda carefully makes her way to your closet, but it's filled wall to wall with your clothes, and the floor is filled with your shoes and other boxes. There was no room to hide in there.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Wanda's walking around your room and has no idea where to hide. She looks at your bed and internally groans. Dropping to her knees, she scoots herself until she's fully underneath, flat on her stomach, but her head is kept off the floor. She quickly opens her phone and turns it from vibration mode to silence—Wanda refuses to be caught. She would rather die than even try and explain all of this.

The door opens, and Wanda only gets a few of your slippers as you make your way back to your desk. She hears a soft clank on the desk, and Wanda can only assume it's the mug of tea you have every night.

Wanda hears you sigh quietly as you seem to settle in for the night. This is not good. This is fucking terrible.

Wanda can't tell how long she's been stuck under your bed. She's too worried about moving and accidentally making a noise. All she hears is the soft music playing and your mouse and keyboard clicking.

Suddenly, her phone lights up with a notification. It's a text from you.

Wanda bites her lip, trying to decide if she should answer. Ultimately, she decides she should because it's possible you might try to call her if she doesn't, and she definitely can't answer it if you do. Wanda would also feel bad about not answering you if you're worried.

But, god fucking dammit, she's going to have to lie. Again.

Wanda hears a breathy chuckle from you and tries not to smile.

Fuck.

Wanda doesn't know if she should say yes or no. If she says yes, will you wait until she gets home? Wanda can only dread how long she might be stuck under your bed.

The chair you're sitting scrapes against the floor a little. A reply doesn't come for a few minutes, and Wanda wishes she could see what you were doing.

Wanda stares at the text, trying to see if she can decipher your tone from just the words alone. It's something you've told her countless times when she told you she'd be staying at Vision's place. Yet, somehow, this feels different.

You stop replying to her after that. It's both a relief that Wanda could stop digging herself into another hole and a torture she's left without much to do again.

Wanda checks some of her other texts and replies to them, but her battery life is getting exceedingly low, and she doesn't want it to die on her accidentally if you do decide to text her again.

The last time she opened the phone to check the time, an hour and a half had passed. There's almost a desperation to give herself up and come clean to relinquish herself from the sheer boredom, but Wanda holds strong since she reasons she'd already made it this far.

"Hmm," Wanda hears you let out a deep hum. The mouse clicks a few times, and Wanda wishes she could see what you were staring at.

Definitely not her confession video; that much comforts Wanda.

God, she's bored. She's so bored that the fear has long left her body.

It's a miracle when Wanda hears you get up and stretch, a few cricks released from your back. You leave the room, and Wanda hears the bathroom door shut.

Wanda scrambles to get out from under the bed, nearly hitting her head 5 times. She quickly tiptoes out of your room, heading for the front door and opening it. Just as you're coming out of the bathroom, Wanda shuts the door as if she's just gotten in.

"Wanda, is that you?" You call from the hallway.

"Yep! You're still up?" Wanda calls back, laughing nervously to herself about how stupid this all was, but relief she was clearly getting away with it.

"Yeah, just thought I'd get a start on the editing stuff for Tony," you say as Wanda walks towards you.

"Oh, cool," Wanda doesn't inquire further but says, "I thought you were staying at Raye's tonight?"

"Oh, uh," you seem surprised that Wanda asks. "I was having a hard time falling asleep on her bed. The mattress is too soft and gives me the worst cricks."

"Oh," Wanda nods, knowing that your mattress is memory foam but on the firmer side.

"What about you?" You ask back. "Didn't go home with Darcy?"

"Uh, no," Wanda fumbles slightly. "Uh, it was good, but I, uh, was getting a slight stomachache from the McDonald's so I decided to go home."

You frown. "Do you want some tea? Maybe some Tums?"

"Maybe some ginger and honey tea?"

You nod. "Alright, I'll get some ready for you. Why don't you go take your makeup off and whatnot? We could watch some TV before we sleep."

"Oo," Wanda grins. "I think I saw some things come out on Disney+, let's see what they have!"

The rollercoaster of the night comes to a satisfying end for Wanda.

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The next three weeks are odd for Wanda. During the first and second weeks, she was so busy with her clients and a whole PR mess that she barely had time to see you.

She spends more time collaborating with her team about how they will dig one of their clients out of the mess they'd made or if they should just drop the client. She's barely been able to think about her feelings for you and what to do about it.

By the time the third week arrives, everything at work finally slows down, and she has time to herself like a regular person again. Wanda reflects back on her position and the entire video-deleting debacle.

With the fear and adrenaline long gone, Wanda can't actually tell if she's disappointed that you haven't discovered her feelings. Would things have just been easier if you had watched the video?

At the very least, it might be better in the sense Wanda wouldn't be stuck in the same place.

Wanda's sitting on the couch, lazily trying to focus on her book but can't with her mind continuously drifting. You haven't been home as of late—Wanda only realized you've been out a lot for a week and a half now.

Sighing, Wanda closes her book. She was getting bored again. You wouldn't be home until later, and she already spent an hour on the phone with Natasha earlier.

Just as Wanda was about to text you to ask if there was any possibility you'd be home earlier, the front doorknob jiggled, signaling someone was putting in their key.

Wanda smiles, hoping she'll see you walk through the door, but smiles even wider when she sees who walks through it.

Getting up from the couch, Wanda runs and jumps, latching onto the person.

"Oof," the voice was gruff.

"Bucky!" Wanda yells excitedly as Bucky catches her, wrapping his arm around her to ensure she doesn't fall, even though her legs are around him.

"Hi, nutball," Bucky says, but his mouth is muffled by Wanda's shoulder and some of her hair.

Wanda slowly slides back down onto the floor, taking a good look at Bucky. Of all the people she adores besides you, Bucky is at the top of her list, along with Natasha, which is why they both have key fobs to the apartment.

Bucky kind of reminds her of Pietro in certain ways, if Pietro would ever grow up and get a little serious. Bucky seems to know that and has cared for Wanda in Pietro's stead now that the guy has left for Europe since they turned 18.

"When did you get back?" Wanda asks. "Why didn't you call? I would've arranged to pick you up from the airport."

"It's fine. Steve picked me up from the airport and we relaxed a little bit before he had to leave to the station to do some kind of sketch for a case," Bucky says as he takes off his shoes.

They wander back into the living room space and take a seat. Bucky had brought her some coffee and pastries that Wanda delighted over.

"So," Wanda says after a sip of her coffee. "How was California?"

"Hot," Bucky smiles.

"You said you were going to train an upcoming actor in a movie, right?"

Bucky nods, sipping his own coffee. "Yeah, some new superhero movie. Pretty young; I think he just turned 18. Definitely now super ripped for an 18 year old," Bucky laughs.

"Does he need a PR agent?" Wanda grins.

Bucky rolls his eyes with mirth. "Probably not since he has his manager handling everything, but I did pass your card along."

"You're good people."

Bucky snorts, and they spend another half hour catching up before he finally comes to the topic he's been waiting to discuss. "You know, Steve brought up something interesting."

"Oh, yeah?" Wanda raises her brow.

"Steve was bringing up how Bug seems to be seeing someone," Bucky says slowly. "And she looks a lot like you...like everyone else Bug has dated."

Wanda lets out a huge groan. "Steve should eat rocks and jump into the ocean."

Bucky laughs, leaning back onto the couch, and smiles. "So? What do you think?"

"About what?"

Bucky gives her a side-eye, and she groans quietly this time.

"Fine," she grumbles. "It was strange to realize, but like, a good strange. I don't know. I want...I want her to look at me."

Wanda's blushing at the admittance to Bucky. It makes her feel shy, but also good that someone else close to her knows and will be on her side.

"Have you confessed?"

"Not exactly."

"Ah, so you haven't done shit except probably rope people into your weird schemes that turn out poorly."

Wanda's jaw drops. "I have not—okay, well, I mean, I wouldn't say they turned out poorly." She would never tell Bucky about the videotaping incident. She was taking that to her grave.

Bucky eyes Wanda, taking in the small expressions on her face and the muted longing in her eyes as she picks at her nails. "You're so much like me, sometimes I'm convinced that you're actually my little sister," Bucky grins, and Wanda mirrors him. "Don't tell Pietro that, though. He's gets so jealous."

Wanda just gives him an, 'obviously,' look.

"When I started realizing my feelings for Steve, I didn't say anything for a long, long time, and I've known I've liked Steve since we were boys making mudpies," Bucky leans his head back against the couch, the coffee resting between his hands on his stomach. "I kept thinking about what if Steve didn't feel the same? And then there was the whole Peggy situation, and I didn't want to break that up."

"You're better than me," Wanda sighs. "I would break them up in a heartbeat if I knew how she felt about me."

Bucky can't hold his laugh in for that but continues on. "I think a lot of those fears I had paralyzed me. I kept thinking I'd have more time and there was a right moment, or if I did certain things, Steve would feel the same. I just had to wait it out."

"So, what happened?"

Bucky gave her a wan smile. "Steve and Peggy, even though they'd be on and off, were getting more serious. One night, Steve told me he was thinking about proposing."

"What?" Wanda's jaw drops. She's never heard of this. "But obviously he didn't because you guys are together now."

"Yeah," Bucky laughs, "because I totally freaked out. I started saying he couldn't and then kissed him, and then started crying. It was a mess."

"Oh, god," Wanda rests her hand against her mouth. She could totally see herself doing that to you if you said the same thing. Now, she's starting to freak out if you're getting serious with Raye.

"I think you know what I'm getting at," Bucky says, turning his head to look over at Wanda, and she feels vaguely uncomfortable. "You need to say something—now. There's no perfect timing. There's nothing extra you can do to magically know, and you're not gonna always have more time."

Wanda lets her head fall back against the couch, closing her eyes. They start to sting with tears, and she feels that same fear creep into her belly. Yet, Bucky's words resonate with her, and she suppresses that fear until it settles into a muted nervousness.

"Fuck, I swear you and Steve planned this."

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Despite Wanda's talk with Bucky, she says absolutely nothing to you when you arrive home late in the evening. Wanda's eyes are glued to the TV, watching How I Met Your Mother absently.

You seemed to have a long day yourself as you carefully sat next to her on the couch.

The air feels weird, and there's a tension in your shoulders. It starts to make Wanda tense until you suddenly relax with a deep breath. You shuffle in your seat before scooting until you're pressed against Wanda's side, resting your head against her shoulder.

The smell of clean laundry and leaves fills Wanda's nose, and she relaxes against you.

"Wanna order in?" You say.

"Yeah," Wanda replies, pulling out her phone to see what she was in the mood for. The two of you quickly place an order and continue to sit in silence, watching the TV.

You seem deep in thought, but you grab Wanda's hand at some point, holding it with keen interest.

Wanda doesn't say anything. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears are warm as you stroke the back of her hand with your thumb. Her heart doesn't speed up, but it begins to thud noticeably harder in her chest.

It continues like that until the food arrives, and it's also eaten in silence with the background noise of the TV. Yet, whenever Wanda looks up, she finds you staring at her, and you don't break eye contact.

It's strange, and it's making Wanda feel somewhat nauseous.

When the food is done and put away, the two of you settle back onto the couch, but Wanda doesn't think she can handle the silence anymore.

"How was your day?"

You turn your head, staring at Wanda, and reply softly. "Okay...how was yours? Bucky told me he stopped by to see you."

Wanda tenses. "Yeah," she mumbles. "It was good seeing him again."

"It's nice that he's home," you nod. "I'm sure Steve is happy."

Steve doesn't deserve to be happy, Wanda pettily thinks. It was his fault that Wanda felt so nervous that she felt like she would puke.

Wanda needs to say something.

She knows she needs to say something now like Bucky told her to.

All those same fears and anxiety creep up, but frustration has also lingered in her since the day she realized her feelings for you.

Wanda's tired, she realizes. She's also sick of saying nothing and watching you be with someone else. She's scared but would rather say something and be put out of her misery than continue saying nothing.

Just as Wanda is about to say something else, you say something first.

"I broke up with Raye."

Just like that, the wind is blown out of her sails, and Wanda's brain stalls. "What?"

"I," you clear your throat, "broke up with Raye."

"When?"

"A week and a half ago."

"And you're just telling me now?"

Your brow scrunches, and you turn in your seat to fully face Wanda as you cross your legs on the couch. You're fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. "Yes...I needed to think."

"Think about what?"

You wet your lips. "If...if it was worth it potentially ruining our friendship for something more."

Wanda's heart drops like an amusement park ride. Her stomach feels the same way it does when an airplane is ascending.

She had all these things she was going to say to you just a minute ago, and now her head was empty, and all she could think about was what you were trying to say.

"I think it is...if you feel the same, which I know you do unless something's changed in the last three weeks."

"How do you know?" Wanda frowns. Then again, she wasn't trying to be sly about it the last few months. Maybe you've finally caught on.

Wait, Wanda pauses. Three weeks? That was when—

You pull out an SD card from your pocket. Wanda's around you enough to know what that is, and her stomach sinks.

"You know," you give her a small smile. "I was trying to edit the video together for Tony the night after the party, but as I was going through the footage, a third of the photos or videos were corrupted."

Wanda thinks back to the USB she returned to Darcy. Dammit, Darcy! That lying, sneaking, betraying—

"I didn't think much of it, but I had to meet up with the videographer to get the original files. You'd never guess what was on there," you smile wryly. "Or maybe you do since you've somehow deleted it from my Google Drive...and corrupted the other files, so I'd have to get the originals. Very conflicting motives I was getting."

"I didn't mean to corrupt the other files," Wanda mumbles. "But you should probably get your laptop professionally cleaned..."

You give her a weird look but chuckle with a shake of your head. "You're super kooky, you know."

"I do know," Wanda rolls her eyes. "I think you know as well."

"I thought I might've seen you on my first date with Raye. That rock that hit that car wouldn't happen to be something you know about, do you?"

"Not at all," Wanda replies quickly. "But if I did, I'm sure the person would want to say she wasn't aiming for the car or your head."

"So, just Raye's head?"

"Once again, not a clue what the intention was as it wasn't me."

You laugh, and Wanda joins in until it fades, and you bite your bottom lip. "I don't know how any of this works, Wanda. I've never dated anyone I consider my best friend."

"I would hope not," Wanda raises her brow at you. "That means someone else was your best friend and you've committed the ultimate betrayal."

You roll your eyes with a mirth and a smile.

"I haven't either," Wanda says softly, slowly turning fully toward you, grabbing your hand, and lacing your fingers together. "But I want to. And no matter what happens, we're gonna be okay. I don't think I'll ever love anyone the way I love you. I think I've loved you for a really, really long time."

"Me too," you mumble, squeezing Wanda's hand, feeling shy. "I don't think I ever really thought about it. I just love you. You're my best friend and I love you."

"Now I'm your girlfriend," Wanda grins, leaning closer and closing her eyes.

"Whoa, okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves now. What if we're not even sexually compatible?"

Wanda pulls back and looks at your face, shocked. It's stony and serious until your lip twitches and Wanda smacks you.

"Ugh, you're such a brat!"

"No, that's you. I'm stinky."

"Stinky."

"Brat."

"Bug."

"Witch."

"Oh, we're bringing back middle school nicknames, are we?" Wanda narrows her eyes at you. You're about to say something else, but Wanda's had enough.

Didn't she think something earlier about being sick of saying nothing? What was she thinking? Saying nothing sounds ideal.

Wanda launches herself across the seat into you, hearing you grunt as she topples you over onto the couch and presses her lips against yours.

It's not a dream this time, Wanda's very sure.

This was much, much better than any dream could give her. It feels better.

Your lips are soft, and you taste faintly like the cookie you split with her earlier.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, Wanda's mind is racing. She's finally kissing you.

Oh my god, she was kissing you!

You were kissing her back!

Wanda kisses you, pressing her lips over yours over and over as your fingers trail over the outside of her thighs and stroke up to her back. You're bolder than her as your fingers dip under her shirt, pressing her against bare skin.

It's thrilling; Wanda almost can't lie still on top of you. Goosebumps are forming, and it's forming everywhere.

You break the kiss, lips caressing her jaw, and scatter light kisses as they trail down her throat.

Your hand moves higher up Wanda's back and pauses.

"No bra?" You raise an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't leave the house today," Wanda mumbles, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

You hum. "No complaints here," you resume your caresses of her bare skin but pause again. "Wanna move to the bedroom?"

No, Wanda thinks. She doesn't want to detach herself from this position. She doesn't want your touch or your kisses to stop.

You can tell that Wanda's debating the pros and cons, and you try to persuade her. "A bed will give us more room to do things...and I want to do a lot of things..." You nibble on her collarbone.

Wanda lets out a soft moan, and her toes curl.

"Okay, fine," Wanda acquiesces, getting up and pulling you along with her. "Move quickly, though. No dallying."

"Dallying? I would never," you smile as Wanda pulls you down the hall. "I'll mirror you perfectly."

"I think you always have," Wanda says softly, turning to look at you. "That's why it's taken us so long to get here. We're stupid."

You laugh. "Seems like one of us deviated from our mirror, mirror dance."

The two of you enter Wanda's bedroom, and she falls back onto it, pulling you on top of her.

Your body heat spreads across hers, and Wanda thinks she's dizzy again.

"Good," Wanda mumbles, cupping your face, her thumb stroking your cheek. "I'm tired of us being chickens."

You press a kiss to her, smiling against her lips. One arm wraps around Wanda while the other trails under the front of Wanda's shirt.

"Speak for yourself," your fingers trail higher and higher. "Maybe I'm just stupid." You press another kiss, lingering a moment longer, and then pull away. "Chicken."

"Stupid," Wanda smiles, her lips grazing yours when she does.

"Witch."

"Bug."

"Brat."

"Stinky."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

Wanda feels something so peaceful settle over her. The butterflies in her stomach flutter around from your touch, but she's so happy. She thinks she might cry if she thinks about it too much because this was all she ever wanted.

Wanda focuses on the feel of your hands on her skin instead and how you're making her feel hot. She focuses on the feel of your lips against her skin, the sound of her breaths, and your soft moans.

There's no way the two of you aren't sexually compatible, but Wanda's eager to find out exactly how compatible they are...over and over.

As your lips trail lower and more clothes are removed, Wanda idly thinks that maybe Steve doesn't need to eat rocks and jump into the ocean.

EPILOGUE

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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kjhbsies · 5 months

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Chasing Shadows

HELP PALESTINE • daily click • donation links • ways to help • why you should not buy/support TLOU2 remaster

Football Player!Ellie x Classy fem!reader

Synopsis: Haunted by past mistakes and paralyzed by the feeling of being vulnerable, Ellie finds herself determined to win you back. Finding it hard to possibly feel a genuine liking to you, what was once just a bet turned into something more. Following you to a summer camp, will you be finally forgive her and open your heart once more?

wordcount: 8, 265 PART I: PART II: PART III

The street was bathed in the soft glows of the street lights, illuminating the face of the person who betrayed you tonight. You shook your head in disappointment, eyes brimming with hot, wet tears from a mixture of sadness and anger.

“Please…” Ellie’s voice quivered, lips trembling as she tried walking towards you. But you immediately retracted, one foot stepping backward, making Ellie stop in her tracks. “Let me explain.” She says in a tone with what you believed was regret. If she can even feel something like that.

“What for?” You spat, face growing scorn. “You won, Ellie! You fucking won the bet. It’s done. You’re the king, again. And I bet you’ll enjoy your throne after you wake up, and I hope you do. I hope every time you try celebrating your victory, you’ll think of the person who only showed you nothing but genuine feelings even though everyone warned her not to do so.” You wiped your tears harshly.

Ellie sighed, trying to keep her tears at bay, not wanting to show what she truly felt inside. Sorrow. Pain. Darkness. “Let me make it up to you, Yn…”

You repeatedly shook your head, “Haven’t you done enough, Ellie?!”

“I want to fix things with you, please!” She begged, wanting to hold both of your hands and kneel in front of you. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t go near you, you wouldn’t let her.

“Was that part of the bet too?”

“No, no!” Ellie blinked rapidly. “I like you…” She admitted, eyes beating loudly. This was the first time she’d ever say it, and it’d almost feel so good vocalizing it in the air if it weren’t for this ugly situation you two were in.

“How do you expect me to believe that?” Your jaw clenched, internally scolding your heart for still fluttering at her words. You turned around, walking away immediately. Your footsteps echo through the pavement, and you can hear Ellie calling out for you.

“Wait!” Ellie called out, voice trembling with emotion that you couldn’t decipher. “Just at least let me drive you home, please!”

Just as was Ellie trying to reach for your arm, you harshly stopped and looked back at her. Meeting her glassy eyes with a pair of angry ones. “Try to follow me, or I’ll never talk to you again!” You shouted before continuing with your tracks.

Ellie felt like her whole world was crumbling in front of her as she walked you away. She felt like her heart was ripping into pieces as she stared at your shaking shoulders, while your hands were wiping away the tears from your eyes.

For once, Ellie felt hopeless.

With each step you take, Ellie can feel her heart shattering into a million pieces, unable to pick them up. The weight of your absence lies upon her shoulder, making it for her difficult to even move a limb.

She watched you call someone else on the phone, crying. You were so close, yet so far from her touch. A sinking feeling washed over her, and a deep realization filled her thoughts: that you are not going to be by her side again. And how can she function when you’re the one who gives her the motivation to wake up every day?

A figure walked out of the car in front of you, approaching you. Ellie watched as the girl gently ran her hands on your hair, trying to soothe your feelings. You wept, however, but she held you gently. Soothing your feelings with words she couldn’t hear.

You walked inside the car, leaving Ellie’s line of vision. The girl you were with looked where Ellie was, finding in her in a pitiful state that Abby couldn’t even tell that this was the same person who ruled the field with such confidence and pride just a few hours ago. The two locked gaze for a minute before Abby decided to walk inside, ignoring the watchful eyes piercing through her back.

As the car left Ellie’s vision, her shoulders dropped. Knees buckling and falling into the ground. She looked down, finally letting the tears that she held on for too long.

And so she cried, for what seemed like forever.

Ellie might have won the game, but her kingdom was nothing but a hollow shell, devoid of warmth and light you brought into her life.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” You overhear Nora in a frustrated tone.

Your brows knit together, forming deep lines on your forehead as you grumble. Your head was aching, and your eyes felt tired and puffy from crying last night. You, however, tried standing up slowly, not having the energy. You opened the door of the guest room, eyes falling on the two figures standing in Abby’s apartment’s kitchen.

“You should not say anything mean to her. She’s in pain.” Abby says in a hushed voice.

“I know but-”

“What are you two doing?” You asked, startling Nora and Abby.

“Just talking,” Nora said, walking up to you.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, her voice filled with deep concern as she sat you on her couch.

“Yeah, just a little groggy.” You cleared your throat. “What were you talking about?”

Nora and Abby shared looks, the blonde shaking her head, telling her friend not to say something. But the girl only crossed her arms in front of her chest, ignoring Abby’s gaze.

“About last night,” Nora answered.

You looked away, eyes squinting at the blinding light illuminating from the windows. “What about it?”

“I knew she wasn’t good for you. Why don’t you listen to me?” Nora exhaled frustratingly. “I’ve never seen you so devastated, Y/n. It’s deeply concerning.”

“Nora please…” You begged, wanting to drop the topic.

“Why would you think that she wouldn’t do something to you? She’s a deceitful Casanova! I thought you were smart, Y/n.”

“That’s enough!” Abby stood up, lightly pushing Nora away.

Your eyes prickled with tears, looking at her with bitterness across your face. You faced her, standing up abruptly. “Were you happy that you were right? Was that it, Nora?!”

“Hey,” Abby went in the middle, breaking off the starting fight.

“Fuck, yes, I am! I hope you’d fucking listen for me once!”

“Well then, congratulations! Thank you, Nora, for rubbing my mistakes all over my face. I hope it feels so good to be an all-knowing bitch!” You screamed, grabbing your bag at the coffee table and walking out the door fast. You heard Abby going after you, but you ran inside the elevator quickly, ignoring the looks of disgust and concern on the faces of the people beside you as they looked at your state: hair and clothes being a mess, with a tired face, alcohol reeking body, and a pair of bare feet.

“What the actual shit…?” An old man shook his head at you disapprovingly, making you even break down into a fit of tears.

The scented candles you once put on to relax your brains filled your nose, its lavender scent calming your nerves as the steam of hot water streaming down your body, enveloping you in a warm hug. With each droplet falling into every inch of your skin, you wished that it could also wash away the bitterness and resentment that clung to your heart.

Hours had already passed by as you stepped inside the shower, but you remained lost in your thoughts – filling your brain once again with a haze pure of anger and sadness. You tried shaking it off, lightly pulling down your hair as you desperately wanted to forget her stupid face. But your brain couldn’t stop imagining the event last night, how stupidly good she looked, how you stupidly kissed her, and stupidly fell for her antics. Despite everything, you couldn’t stop thinking about how you couldn’t fully hate her.

Your love for her weighed more than what she has done. But still, you couldn’t bring yourself to easily forgive her.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed after the long bath you took, not caring what time or what day was it. Abby got you covered. She texted you once you got to your apartment, saying that you shouldn’t come to the school today and just get some rest. She also apologized for Nora’s behavior and you scoffed at that. She shouldn’t be the one doing that, she’s not at fault. But, oh, well, Nora wouldn’t apologize. It’ll hurt her pride.

You didn’t respond, but Abby texted you once again, saying that Nora made you an excuse letter, saying that you were sick for the day. Abby thought that it was her way of saying I’m sorry, and you just sighed.

She also updated you once she gave it to Mrs. Garcia, catching Ellie’s figure slouched down her chair, head resting on her arms that were laid out on her desk. It’s as if Ellie was in a trance, she says, just staring at the empty chair beside her that was supposed to be your seat. Abby also caught her curious glance at her figure, asking you if she probably recognized her but you couldn’t tell her the exact answer. You were confused, too.

You buried your head in your pillows, staring at the ceiling. You can imagine how pitiful Ellie looks, and for once, you’d offer millions just to hear her thoughts.

Ellie immediately threw herself on the couch in her shared apartment with Dina, feeling the exhaustion penetrating to the very core of her being, leaving her feeling drained and depleted – both mentally and physically. She buried her face in the soft plush of the pillows, sighing heavily. She didn’t tell anyone about what happened between you two, and she very much ignored every single one of her teammates, not wanting to feel like the total sore loser. Especially with Dina who has been telling her not to do this since the day she knew about the bet. Ellie could imagine how she would scold her for hurting you. And maybe she deserves it.

Dina, who was sitting on the floor of the living room, glanced at Ellie while different art materials were sprawled out at the coffee table, including her laptop. “What was that?” She asked, brow-raising up before going back to what she was doing.

“Nothing.” Ellie lied, heart racing at the thought of telling Dina where she went wrong.

“No, not nothing. Stop lying to me and tell me everything.” Her brows knitted, getting frustrated at the hand-made card she was designing. Ellie remained silent, and Dina had to pinch her lightly.

“Ow! Fine!” Ellie sat up, soothing her leg. “Y/n knew about the bet after we kissed.”

Dina stopped cutting the paper and looked at Ellie with pure disbelief, “What?!” She exclaimed, and Ellie only gazed down her lap, fiddling with her fingers, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face. “I knew this wouldn’t go well!”

Ellie sighed once again, “She won’t forgive me.”

“Hell, yeah. You played with her feelings, Els. That’s not fair.” She shook her head repeatedly. “She’s a nice girl, she doesn’t deserve it.”

“I know,” Ellie answers, almost in a whisper. Feeling the guilt consuming her once again. Her chest tightened as if her heart were squeezing, making it difficult to breathe.

Dina sighed, “You must face the consequences of your actions, Ellie. I won’t nag you with all of your shitty decisions in life but I do hope that you’ll reflect on what you’ve done.” Dina looked up at her, meeting her green eyes. “You don’t have to be the same cruel, heartless person everyone believed you to be. Maybe it is hard to admit that you like somebody, and I understand that your feelings might get mixed up and fight with your mind. But that’s what the heart wants, deep inside, that’s what you want, and burying it with the ugly thoughts that you shouldn’t fall in love with someone else because you’re you, wouldn’t do well. Do you understand me?”

Ellie nodded reluctantly.

“Now help me with the invitations and I might give you one.” Dina pats the space beside her, and Ellie can’t help but smile lightly before sitting down on the floor too.

“What’s this for?” She asked, wanting to touch the freshly made one but Dina swatted her hand immediately.

“It’s for this year’s camping trip. It’ll be held next week when the break starts. It’ll be exclusive only to those who attended last year’s camp, and those whom the camp councils will choose who attend. And since I’m this year’s head committee of the arts committee, I am the one in charge of the making of the invitations.” She explained.

“Will Y/n be there?”

Dina sighed, “Yes. She always is.”

“If I help you… can I get an invite?” Ellie looked at her expectantly, eyes widening with a small light of hope flicking around her mind.

“Fine. Only if you’ll be good.”

Ellie almost squealed in glee, immediately gathering the things she would need to make another card. She copied Dina’s work, and with so much skill that it looked better than the one her friend made.

Ellie would do everything she could to make amends, even if it meant making a hundred batches of handmade invitations until midnight.

Ellie couldn’t even lift a limb today, and Dina basically had to pull her away from her bed just so she’d get up. It was an important day, as all of the students who participated and won the university’s national-wide intramurals were going to get recognized in front of everyone. The Rising Phoenixes’ were the highlight of this year, bagging the 6th win of the women’s football team, and will be going to compete internationally.

But Ellie couldn’t handle the humiliation she had been feeling at herself. Sure, her friends didn’t know what happened, and everyone still thinks highly of her, but Ellie couldn’t go in front of the stage knowing that you would be there. Ellie tried calling in sick, but her coach wouldn’t let her not to attend the recognition, knowing that it would be just as important to him as it was to Ellie.

Ellie stood in the middle of the stage, accepting the huge medal that purely recognized her skills and abilities. She tried to get that smug smile on her face, posing for the pictures. And you watched, trying to hide behind the people in front of you, not wanting Ellie to know that you were there. Still silently supporting her even when she did you dirty.

You sighed, excusing yourself as you tried to get away from the swarm of people trying to desperately get in front, admiring the players. Ellie’s heart raced as she craned her neck, her eyes scanning the crowd in search of you. She wanted to get out of this place or else she’ll get suffocated. So she politely excused herself, declining a girl who wanted to get a picture with her.

Ellie needed to find you, to redeem herself after that night, but you seemed like sand — always slipping out of her fingers.

Her breath hitched as she saw a familiar figure, walking through the busy hallway. Ellie’s footsteps rang through the tiled floors as she hurried after you, her heart busting in her chest as longing grew quickly inside her. With each desperate stride to come get you, Ellie silently cursed as you pushed yourself at the swarm of people, making it hard for her to spot you.

“Wait!” She yelled, making other people look her way. “Y/n, please, just listen to me!” She exclaimed, small tears started forming at the corners of her eyes.

Your throat hurts as you pretend not to hear her voice calling out to you. The once hurried walks almost turn into running. You wanted to get away from her. You don’t trust yourself in front of her. You knew that if you were left in a room with Ellie, no matter what she did, she could just tell you that she loves you and you’ll come running back in her arms.

“Please!” Ellie cried out, voice filled with anguish. “I need to talk to you!”

But you remain out of her reach, just always a few steps ahead. Ellie’s heart sank as she realized that you could probably hear her, you just didn’t want to talk to her, you didn’t want to listen to her explanations and apologies.

“Hey, man, that’s alright.” Jesse came beside her, wrapping his hands over her shoulders, gently tugging Ellie away from the crowd.

The girl couldn’t even fight back, she just let Jesse take her wherever he went as her vision blurred, tears started falling down her shirt. Her mind is full of despair. Thoughts of wanting to just catch you, even just for a couple of minutes, and she’ll try to make up for whatever shitty thing she has done to you. But now, as she walked with her head down while a huge medal was sitting around her neck, she felt like a loser more than ever.

Everything after that seemed like a blur. Ellie’s stare was blank as her head rested at Jesse’s car window, just gazing around the scenery with a heavy heart. Ellie vowed to herself not to stop trying. She had to earn your forgiveness, no matter how hard it is.

“I told Dina you were safe with me, and we’re just in our usual hangout place,” Jesse says, sitting at the cold concrete floor of an abandoned beach house. “Luckily, I still have a stock of beers in my car.” Jesse offered her one.

“Thanks, man,” Ellie says, looking at the beach in front of her.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Yeah, I was surprised as well,” Ellie answered, immediately emptying the first can of beer. She reached out at the box, opening another can.

“Dina told me everything and all I can say was…” Jesse clicked his tongue, lightly shaking his head.

“Yeah, I know, I’m a shitty person.” Ellie nods to herself.

“Nah, I think you’re just a normal person who makes a mistake. I mean, you’re just scared, and I do understand why you did what you did. However, it does not mean that it’s right.”

“Scared?” Ellie scoffed, looking at Jesse.

“What? Did I say something incorrect?” Jesse raised his pointer finger at Ellie’s face.

“Yes, man, I think you’re perfectly wrong,” Ellie answered, raising hers, too.

“Admit it or not, Els, only a cowardly person would do such thing like that,” Jesse says in a serious tone. “Accepting a bet to kiss a girl even if hurting another person’s feelings just to win and for what? Just to make everyone respect you since you’re their captain? Just say it, Ellie. That being a Casanova just shields you from what you truly are because deep inside you’re scared of being vulnerable with someone else.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched, still looking at her friend with knitted brows. She wanted to quip back and say something mean to him, but she knew that Jesse was right.

“You couldn’t fix everything if you can’t even proudly tell that you like Y/n. If you’re going to live yourself trying to hide from everyone about what you truly felt, then you truly won’t change, and Y/n won’t forgive you.”

Ellie sighed, looking down at her lap. Her brain started swirling as she thought about everything. “I guess I just always have to prove myself to everyone. That I can do everything, and no one could hinder that. I’m their captain, and so I should be the one who’s always in control. Not the other way around.” She emptied her second one, immediately opening up the other. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I stayed away from affection because I was surrounded by people who think that loving someone was a weakness.”

“That’s not true at all.” Jesse defended. “I think being able to freely admit to someone that you love them was a sign of true bravery. Admitting that you were willing to risk everything for them isn’t weak.” Jesse put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, looking straight into her eyes. “You are not weak.”

Ellie’s face softened, glancing away.

She sighed, how she wished that the ocean could swallow her whole. Maybe the crashing waves could mimic her troubling emotions. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel lost and alone.

The school year had ended, and the warm sun bathed your apartment in a golden glow. The humidity has been high, sucking all of your energy one by one as doing such simple tasks will have you drenched in sweat. So, here you are, lying on your couch, enjoying your freedom as you stare at the movie on the television, your thoughts flying away.

Abby was out for today, having been running errands that her dad specifically asked her to do. She hated it, going from city to city to talk to someone, get some confidential files, and so on. But, knowing her dad, Abby couldn’t do anything but comply. Besides, her overflowing allowance was his only way of shutting her up.

You and Nora were good now. Two days after your fight, she had been texting to talk to you, putting her pride aside. But you knew Abby had to firmly ask her to apologize to you before she did. You understand her concerns, knowing that she’s just an overprotective friend for you. It’s just that she did that in such a bad way, opening some opportunities for a misunderstanding — which you two had just done. However, you already accepted her apology, making her vow not to do it anymore.

And with Ellie, you did not know what to do. It’s been almost two weeks since that night happened, and the wound is still fresh as that day. You blocked her from everything, not wanting her presence to loom over you. But, it’s not effective as you still couldn’t stop thinking of her. You can’t get her out of your head, images of her face come flashing into your mind, haunting you in your dreams. You tried drowning your thoughts, distracting yourself by reading books, watching movies, and putting your headphones on 24/7, but the sounds of her screams and pleads for you came echoing to your ears no matter what, consuming you whole.

You sighed heavily, trying to focus on the scene on the television to escape everything when a sudden knock came on your door. Surprised and skeptical, you made your way to answer it. Abby was coming this afternoon, but you figured out it wasn’t her because she has your apartment keys.

Opening the door, you found Dina standing on your doorstep, offering a warm smile at you.

“Hey!” She greeted. “I hope I’m not interrupting you,” She said sheepishly.

You immediately shook your head, “No, not really. I was just watching a movie. Come inside!” You opened your door widely, and she stepped in. “Do you want anything? It’s hot outside, I’m surprised you can handle the heat.”

“Any cold drink would be fine, and yes, I don’t have a choice but to do this.” Dina chuckled, following you to the kitchen, and sitting at the barstool as she watched you make a juice.

“What for?”

Dina opened her bag, getting an invitation letter for you. Your eyes dropped to the small piece of paper she slid as you offered Dina the drink which she gratefully accepted.

“Oh, I didn’t know it’ll be too soon.” You said, opening the letter.

“Yeah, the council thought it’d be fun to hold a camp a week after the school had ended. Most of the campers liked to travel in May, and so we decided to hold it in April.” Dina sipped at the juice, looking at you. “How are you? I mean,” She sighed. “I know what happened.”

You cleared your throat, inhaling sharply. It had slipped your mind that Dina is Ellie’s best friend, and she knew everything. Humiliation ran through your face, looking away. “It’s embarrassing…” You admitted.

“I know, sweetie.” Dina placed her hand on top of yours. “I knew about the bet, and I was actually about to tell you everything that night but Ellie butted in. I’ve been warning her since the very first time but she’s persistent on doing it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shook your head, trying your best not to cry. “It’s mine. I should’ve known better than falling for her.”

“Oh, Y/n…” Dina whispered.

You smiled at her through bloodshot eyes, “I’m gonna be at camp. It’ll be a nice distraction from her.”

Dina hissed, “Actually… Ellie’s gonna be there too.”

Your brows knitted. “What?”

“She figured you’d be there.” Dina sighed heavily. “It’s fine if you won’t accept the invite, okay? I’ll just vouch for you-”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, not wanting to cause Dina any more trouble. “It’s fine. I can just… ignore her.”

“Are you sure?” Dina asked, hesitantly.

“I’ll accompany her there.” Abby suddenly butted in, her presence making you two in shock. Abby flashed Dina a boyish smile before extending her hand, “I’m Abby Anderson.”

“Oh yeah, I knew your father.” Dina smiled. “I’m Dina.”

You looked at Abby, “What are you saying? Your dad won’t agree.”

“He will. He promised that this was the last time he’d given me a task. I’m a free woman now.” She gestured both of her hands in the air. “So,” Abby looked at Dina. “Could I get an invitation? I’m just gonna keep an eye out for my idol Ellie.”

You and Dina exchanged glances.

The sun dipped low on the horizon as you hopped off the bus, scanning your eyes through the scenery in front of you. Nostalgia hit you as you smelled the fresh breeze of the campsite, a place where you spent every year of your summer. You started smiling to yourself, trying to calm your wild heart as the thought of spending the whole week with Ellie started forming.

A small touch at your back made you flinch, pulling you back to reality as Abby’s tall frame stood over you, blocking the rays of the sun.

“I’ve never been into any campsites. Ever.” Abby says gleefully, being amazed at every single thing from the scenery during the bus ride, and here in the camp.

“That’s because you are very rich and you spend your summers in Greece or whatever,” You said.

Abby looked at you, offended. “I’m not very rich!” She argued.

“Yes you are, sweetie, you grew up having a Lamborghini for your school service.” You placed your hand on her shoulder, nose crinkly as you tried not to smile.

At the distance, far from your consciousness, you didn’t know that Ellie was at one of the picnic tables in the distance, trying to ignore the girls who started sitting beside her and trying to flirt with her as she only looked your way. Her eyes darkened, and her jaw tensed as she followed your figure walking beside your friend, Abby, to your respective shared cabin.

Her fist clenched, the weight of guilt and regret tugging down on her like a suffocating blanket. She had messed up, she knew that, but seeing you smiling and laughing with another girl only served to deepen her sense of shame and loneliness.

The lunch continued at the campsite’s central meeting house, where Joan, gladly thanked every camper for participating in this year’s camp. Dina welcomed you and Abby, gesturing to you where she was seated.

Jesse nodded at you, absolutely devouring the piece of croissant on his table. Where he got that when the buffet wasn’t even started, you didn’t know, nor did not bother to ask. Unfortunately, you and Abby were seated in front of Ellie, who was already looking at you intently. Her eyes screamed with frustration and irritation for no one knows what. Her ringed fingers were clasped together at the table, and you gave her a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to stir any trouble and trying to keep it civil.

You looked at Joan, trying to avoid even glancing at Ellie's face.

She looks so good.

How can she make a simple black shirt that good? And oh, not to mention how her tattoos were fully exposed, whilst her auburn hair was in a half-up bun. You mentally scolded yourself for the fluttering feeling in your stomach, muttering curses under your breath.

Abby leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” You hushed her.

Ellie watched the interaction in front of her. Her heart sank a little as she looked at how close Abby was to you — something that she couldn’t do.

You intently listened to Joan who was explaining the rules of the capture the flag, especially to those young campers who couldn’t help filling the meeting house with anticipation and excited cheers and chatters for their team. You, Abby, Ellie, and Jesse were assigned to Dina’s team, and Ellie couldn’t stop feeling a small light of hope to have an opportunity to talk to you.

The lunch quickly ended, and everyone was given an hour to get their team’s respective shirts at the tent and to make the team leader strategies to win the game.

Abby excused herself to go to the bathroom quickly, and Ellie found herself walking behind you, her heart pounding in her chest as your familiar perfume filled her nose. Her heart warmed with such longing and desperation, but she couldn’t find the right words and the courage to speak up.

You, however, were fully aware of her presence behind you. You spent many times with Ellie that you can even recognize her shadow. You tried calming your beating heart as you carefully watched your steps going inside the tent, knowing that she was just right behind you.

You took an abrupt stop from walking, making Ellie’s chest bump into your back.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly apologized, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Ellie answered softly, scratching the back of her head.

You grabbed the red shirt, indicating the color of your team, and Ellie did so. As she was about to open her mouth to say something, Abby immediately appeared behind your back.

“Dina says we should now go under the large oak tree.” Abby pointed, cutting the potential conversation between you and Ellie, and you did not know whether to feel relieved or sad.

Frustration boiled beneath Ellie’s skin as she clenched her fists, her nails digging through her palms so hard. She could feel getting annoyed at the presence of the newcomer, her madness bubbling through her heart, threatening to spill at any moment. But as Dina gathered her team, she couldn’t do anything about it, and mentally advised herself not to let her emotions get over her.

With a deep breath, Ellie pushed down all of her anger and frustration. She vowed to herself that she would make things right, and no one could stop her from doing so.

Not Natalie.

Not even the gods.

And definitely not Abby.

The soft rustling of the wind against the leaves somehow made you at ease. After the game started, you tried to quickly make your way to the forest, knowing that this area wouldn’t be covered by the game. Not wanting anyone to catch you, you quickly ran away, hiding in the bushes as everyone made their way where each other’s flag was.

Abby, bless her, didn’t even notice that you weren’t by her side since she was overly enthusiastic with the game as she hadn’t even played it before. And so there she was, running and defending herself as she tried to make her way to the opponent’s flag, enjoying every bit of it.

The familiar forest enveloped you in its embrace, providing a small sense of comfort as you sat on one of the tall trees. You sighed, ears perked up to hear the birds singing, knowing that you were not all alone.

The weight of holding the burden of being a plaything fell slumped on your shoulders, dragging you whole. You bit yourself, trying to face the dilemma of forgiving Ellie. If you choose to give her another chance, you’ll betray yourself. But if you choose to ignore her, you’ll betray your heart.

So what would you do?

Lost in your thoughts, you sighed, massaging your temples while your eyes were tightly shut. The ache in your heart was refusing to go, memories of you and Ellie came running down your thoughts. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had been searching for your presence, her heart was deep with longing and regret.

A soft crackle of the leaves made your train of thoughts stop, abruptly standing. But before you could even lift a limb, Ellie appeared in the woods.

Your eyes widen, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. And Ellie noticed how you were alarmed by her, a small pang in her heart as she watched you scramble to your feet. Trying, but failing to go away as she was blocking your way.

“Please… I want to talk to you.” Ellie said, almost in a whisper. She maintained to keep her distance, not wanting to scare you into running away.

“For what, Ellie?” You said, dejected. “Wasn’t that enough? Why can’t you leave me alone.”

“I can’t!” She exclaimed, a lump forming in her throat as she tried not to cry. “I like you, Y/n.”

You laughed with no humor. Despite feeling an ache in your chest, your heart beats wildly against it. Tears started streaming down your face, breaking Ellie’s heart into pieces. “And how could I believe that? You lied to me not even once!”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie says, voice trembling. “I’m so so sorry. Please just give me another chance to make things right. I’ll prove to you that I do like you.”

You did not answer. You couldn’t bring your eyes to look at her gaze. You can’t. It’ll break you more than you’ll ever know. Countless of doubts started forming in your mind, not trusting the words coming from her lips. Uncertainty gnawed on your mind, clouding your thoughts and poisoning your judgment.

“I don’t know, Ellie…” You whispered, your gaze is on the floor. “I want to believe you but I just…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I could trust you again.”

Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes, blurring her line of vision. The huge weight of your words came crashing down on her, breaking every inch of her body. She hoped she could find the energy to run after you, beg for your forgiveness once again. But faced with the reality, Ellie knew she had to respect your decision. She shouldn’t dictate what you should and should not do. Ellie hurt you, and if it was the consequences of her actions that Dina was talking about, then she’ll gladly face it.

She just hoped that you’d still be there when she changed.

Maybe.

Tension was thick as Ellie remained to keep her distance away from you. Realizing that there’s nothing she can do in the meantime, she wanted to give you some space. It’s the least she can do for you, knowing that what she did broke you in many ways she could ever imagine. Ellie’s heart ached as she took a glance at your puffy face, evidence of how shitty she truly was.

The breakfast were held outside the meeting house, a long table were set up by the camp counselors, providing a very-well decorated table and chairs with different sets of vases with colorful flowers. Dina were as busy as ever, but she couldn’t ignore the slump face of Ellie as she was fixing the chairs.

She didn’t comment on that, even when you and Abby decided to sit at the other side of the table, far away from Ellie. She noted how quiet her friend was, fully knowing that something happened last night. Dina has an idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask Ellie or you, not wanting to stir any more conflicts.

“You alright?” Dina asked softly while everyone was done with their meal. Grabbing a garbage bag, she started picking up the paper plates, and the disposable cups and plastics.

“Rough day.” Ellie only answered with a rugged voice, helping her friend out.

“Abby,” Dina called, making the blonde girl look at her with raised brows.

“Yeah?” She asked from the distance, and Ellie tried not to furrow her brows, getting annoyed even by the tone of her voice.

“Can you and Ellie get the garbage bags and throw them at the disposal?” Dina kindly asked, making Ellie’s head turn at her harshly.

“What? Why her?” She asked, annoyance evident in her tone and expression.

“No problem!” Abby beamed.

Dina widened her eyes at Ellie, giving her a warning look. The auburn-haired girl muttered curses under her breath, knowing that she couldn’t do anything about it or Dina would kick her out of the camp whenever she wanted to.

You casually went to Dina, offering her a tight-lipped smile as you helped her clean the area that she was cleaning.

“Would they be friends?” Dina asked, glancing at Ellie and Abby’s backs.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Abby idolizes Ellie, I don’t know about her though.”

Dina smiled, falling silent for a minute. “Are you okay?”

“Still living. That’s what matters, right?” You joked.

“What’s on your mind?” Dina asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I…” You shut your eyes, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I could trust her again, you know. She told me she likes me. But I don’t know if I could believe that.”

“You could choose not to, Y/n. You could choose to ignore Ellie if you want. Do you?”

“No,” You whispered. “Funny thing is… I can’t do it. Ignoring her would mean hurting myself more. But forgiving her that fast would mean that I’m weak.”

“No, you’re not.” Dina held both of your hands, squeezing it gently. “Forgiving doesn’t mean you are forgetting or excusing her actions. You can do it slowly, let her gain your trust once again, and see if it will work. I have known Ellie since we were kids, and I can tell you how much she truly regrets what she did to you. Did you know she helped me make the invitations until 2:00 in the morning?”

“Really?” You smiled despite the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Yeah, she did. I never saw her that dedicated in my life until you came. Y/n, she likes you. Truly.”

You stared at Dina for too long, nibbling your bottom lip. “Oh yeah?”

“What’s up with you and Y/n?” Abby asked Ellie, tailing her as she dumped the garbage bag forcefully at the pit.

“None of your fucking business.” Ellie glared at her.

“Woah, woah,” Abby said, raising her hands in the air. “What did I do? Why are you pissed?”

“Exist,” Ellie answered sternly. “Listen, dude, why don’t you go away? You already have Y/n, what more could you possibly want from me?”

Abby’s brows furrowed, “I don’t– Oh wait, you think me and Y/n were together? Is that why you’re so mad?”

Ellie muttered a curse under her breath.

“Oh, yes, you did.” Abby giggled but stopped when Ellie shot her a piercing glare. “We’re not together. We’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Ellie scoffed.

“Wait– why are you the one who’s getting mad at me? That’s supposed to be the other way around! You hurt my friend, Ellie. And even though I was your super fangirl, nothing about what you did to Y/n was right.”

Ellie stopped in her tracks, almost dropping the garbage bag she was holding. Her jaw clenched as she listened to what the blonde girl was talking about, setting aside her annoyance at her for just a couple of minutes.

“I was the one who pushed her to befriend you. You should be grateful to me,” Abby threw the garbage beside her. “She believed in you, Ellie, just like what she does to everyone. Y/n is a great person and I didn’t know why you just took her for granted.”

Ellie slowly dropped the thing she was holding. She gulped as she made sense of what Abby was saying.

“I know,” Ellie agreed. “I’m a dick. Don’t worry, I’ll stop chasing her for now.”

Abby’s head whipped at Ellie’s direction, “Now when did I say that you should do that?”

“Should I not?” Ellie asked, puzzled.

“No. Just one little push, okay? Just show Y/n that you’re sincere. Can’t you do that?”

“I can,” Ellie nodded, mostly to herself.

“Alright.” Abby smiled, patting her hand on Ellie’s exposed shoulder with the tank top she was wearing. Unbeknownst to the auburn haired girl, Abby smeared dirt on it.

Ellie’s nose flared as she fakes a gag at the smell, “Fuck you, blondie!” She yelled, eliciting a loud laugh from Abby, echoing through the forest-clad area.

The crackling flames over the bonfire perfectly illuminated the different faces of the group who were gathered around it. The adults decided to sneak over to do a spontaneous midnight activity and snacks, bringing different snacks, candies, and even alcohol that they hid from their luggage. Even the camp counselors were around, and some of them came up with the idea to call everyone to come out when the kids were already fast asleep.

You found yourself sitting in front of Ellie, giving you the perfect view of her face, the flickering lights casting a shadow on her face, making her green eyes pop as she watched the dancing flames, seemingly lost in thoughts. She did not even notice that Dina had sat on her left side, along with Jesse who was already opening a bag of chips. She did not even move when a girl you were not familiar with started sitting dangerously close to her, the proximity making your left brow arch slowly. The sad girl elbowed her friend, whispering something in her as she kept glancing at Ellie, a blush creeping on her cheeks.

“Oh, my god, we’re going to grill marshmallows just like what I watched in the movies,” Abby leaned in to whisper at your ear, excitement filling her voice as she clapped lightly.

You were about to say something, when someone yelled to play a game. Clapping his hand to gather everyone’s attention, he started to speak.

“I’m so happy to see old and new faces here in camp. I’m Luke, the vice counselor. A pleasure to meet all of you.” He says. “We’ll go crazy tonight, everyone. Let’s open the booze!”

Everyone yelled in excitement, popping the bottles simultaneously. Everyone started filling the massive container with blocks of ice, different candies, and of course, different mixes of alcohol to create the perfect drink for the night.

“Why don’t we play the game of truth or dare?” The girl beside Ellie suggested, a mischievous glint forming in her eyes as she took a glance at Ellie. The bottle spun, its neck pointing in Ellie’s direction.

“Oh, fun!” Another girl says, an eager smile forming around the corners of her lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Ellie answered sternly.

“Boring!” She laughed flirtatiously, making your brows knit. It did not take long for Ellie to notice that your face started growing in pure annoyance, something that she picked up on for being with you for so long. Something inside her stirred, making her sit straight as she tried to ignore your gaze that was boring into hers. Ellie tried to remain looking at the girl who was talking to her, not wanting to lock eyes with you for a moment. “So tell me, Ellie, do you like someone?”

Everyone said “ooh” in unison, waiting expectantly for her answer. Ellie remained silent, her eyes locking with yours for a moment before you looked away, your expression guarded but your heart started beating too fast.

Ellie sighed, taking the hint that you did not want to be involved with her. “Can I just take a drink?” She asks, and everyone laughs, pouring her cup fully.

“Now that’s not boring!” The girl beside her exclaimed, feeling hopeful that she would have a chance on the girl.

You gulped, seemingly puzzled at what you are currently feeling right now. Perhaps, were you disappointed at her answer? Why does a small part of you want for her to express how much she likes you? Even though you made it clear last night that you don’t want her presence near you.

Dina looked at you and she gave you a tight-lipped smile, and you were unsure what that meant.

“Was it just me or did those two girls want to bang Ellie?” Abby asked, looking at them with a curious stare.

“Just shut up, Abs.” You rolled your eyes before taking a huge sip on your cup. The bitterness of the alcohol drew a sharp line on your throat, eliciting a small groan out of you.

The game continued, the dares becoming increasingly daring as the night wore on. But when the bottle’s neck finally landed on the girl sitting beside Ellie, her friend wasted no time in daring her to kiss the person in the group that she found attractive.

With a sly grin, the girl continued to lean towards Ellie. Ellie panicked, taking a glance at you, and was met with a glare from your eyes. She physically recoiled, her tattooed hand pushing her chest to keep her away. Everyone shouted in unison, teasing the girl beside Ellie.

“Don’t do that shit with me,” Ellie glared at her.

“You’re turning me down?!” The girl asked, offended. “Oh, my goodness. No one has ever done that to me! This is so embarrassing. I bet the girl you liked wasn’t even pretty!” She yelled, feeling the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.

“Actually…” Abby, Jesse, and Dina said in unison.

“This is so ridiculous,” You said, shaking your head as the tension made you feel uncomfortable. You immediately get up, grabbing your cup full of alcohol to take it with you. The crackling sound of the dried leaves filled the air as you walked away, disappearing into a small part of the forest — not far away from the gleaming lights of the camp.

“Y/n?” Ellie asked gently, tailing you.

You stared at her, and part of your brain started swirling as the alcohol slowly consumed you. You leaned into the tree, feeling exhausted at everything as you kept your gaze at her.

“Why didn’t you kiss her?” You asked, challenging her.

“Are you serious?” Ellie laughed sarcastically. “I think I made it clear that you are the only one I like. I still do.”

“Then why didn’t you say it earlier?”

Ellie gulped, “I… don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nodded, taking her reason as a valid one. “What if… that’s what I truly want? To hear you shout that you… like me.” You said, voice faltering at the last two words.

“You think I can’t do that?” Ellie asked you back. “I like you, Y/n Y/l/n!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, as loud as she could, her words echoing through the silent night, scaring the birds who were resting on their respective nests.

You couldn’t stop smiling at that gesture, so you tried to move your head away from her gaze, hiding your face. Ellie felt a warmth surging in her heart as she took a step forward at you. She lifted your chin, wide green eyes staring at yours.

“Alright, hear me out.” She says, making both of your brows lift as you anticipate what she’ll say next. “I know messed up… big time and I’m ready to earn your forgiveness. So, here’s my proposal…”

You raised a brow, curious to see what Ellie had in mind. The corners of her lips twitched into a playful smile, her eyes glinting with joy as she outlined her plan in her mind. “I propose to dance in front of you.”

“Jesus.” You shut your eyes, laughing at her suggestion. “You might scare the living creatures in here.” You joked.

Ellie danced, however. Making ridiculous moves as she waved her hips, trying to jiggle her butt. You laughed harder as she tried to mimic Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, but failed as she tripped and fell into a pile of leaves.

“Oh god…” You shut your eyes tightly while smiling like an idiot. Even though her moves were not as good, there’s something about it that you find… charming. You sighed, walking nearer to where Ellie was. You offered your hand to help her stand up, and she hesitantly accepted it.

Ellie gently wiped off the leaves and dirt that stuck on her pants before looking at you once again. The moonlight illuminated your face, making her breath hitch as she finally saw you in this proximity. Something that she never thought she would miss. Ellie can finally look at your face and smell your perfume, and her heart warms as she tries not to kiss you right there and then.

“I can’t believe that you thought I was going to fall for that.”

“Well, did it work?”

You smiled before gripping his collar and smashing down your lips with hers. “Yes, captain.”

taglist: @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @amberputh @bready101 @teawithnosugar @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliewilliamgfooc @machetegirl109 @lazcylies @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @missladyhope @stvrs13 @vqxen @mikellie @villainousbear @daribakugo @elliessweetheart @chxrryvalxntins @lulith05 @anyscz @elliessluutt @lively-blues @gasliightt @tphmnv @sofiaaasblog @shiimer @nobodyykxox @disguisedfangirl @sukolover @elliewilliamsblunt @ellishamae25 @marrycv

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader

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lumilovessmut · 7 months

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My Messy Girl

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Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Trigger warnings: Smut (18+), slight choking, daddy kink, office sex, slight exhibitionism, p in v, established relationship, name calling: love, sweetheart, slut, dear, wifey, baby, mama, few mentions of breeding, slight pervert Nanami.

A/n: Hello my lovely readers! It's your lumi 🧡 So I thought I'd give you guys something special cause my hiatus is supposed to end around May but since you readers would want something I'm making this, I hope you guys will love it too 🧡 As always striving to make better quality fanfics for you guys. It would be really helpful if u guys can join my Instagram account also. I'll leave the link below, ty 🧡🧡🧡

Word count: 0.86k

Upload date: 10th March, 2024

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Everybody knows Nanami Kento was a clean freak. But if anyone were to see Nanami right now they would be astonished. His office is a mess, the papers on his desk is in a disarray, his couch is messy, and if it were normal working hours right now, everyone would have heard your pathetic, melodious moans. But the most surprising factor of all would be, the fact that Nanami Kento, the NANAMI KENTO is so messy right now that it is both a sin and a boon to look at him. He has you, who only came to deliver his dinner because it was very late and he may stay in the office for more hours. But the moment Nanami saw you, his world blurred and only your presence was worthy of his attention. The dinner you prepared in the cute bento box didn't matter only you did.

Everything was a blur, Nanami has been eating you out for more than what seems like eternity, his tongue laps at your entrance and he fucks his saliva into your hole, like a thrifty man in the desert he keeps sucking all your juices. The bridge of his nose serves to be a good spot for grinding your clit, Nanami was in heaven. "Baby, have I ever told you- fuck that you taste like the nectar from heavens? Yeah, keep going, just one more baby, just- fuck one more please darling, make a mess! make a mess, sweetheart I'm just a mess for you down there." "Nanami pleas- I-I-I can't n-no mor-nghhh please no mor-eek! Gonna ah! Gonna cum! Nanamiiiiiii!" "Don't worry princess cum, just like that mmmmmmgh, fuck you taste heavenly, keep cumming, mmmmm." Nanami, keeps tongue fucking you till you calm down, once he comes up from between your legs, you see the most breath taking view of your life, disheveled hair, your juices running down his chiselled face.

"Wanna taste yourself baby?", he comes and kisses you, "understand why I like your cum so much? Hmm? Answer me baby?", "Yes", you could hardly answer him, he looked too ethereal for you to comprehend anything else, without much thought in mind you brush the baby hair stuck to his forehead. "Wanna be come my Messy Girl?" Nanami suddenly asked you and to say you were shocked was an understatement cause you knew he hated messes yet here he his asking you if you can be his messy girl. You nod yes cause after all who would say to no to him?

The only thought your head is filled with is Nanami and the only thing your cunt is filled with is his cum and dick, he has been fucking you practically everywhere in his office, on his desk? Check. On his office sofa? Check. On the glass window looking down the city? Check. His thick girthy cock, throbbing with veins and his pretty flushed red tip banging at your cervix was bringing you closer to heaven than even death can bring you to. "Baby imagine someone were to notice us fucking like horny teenagers? Hmm? What would they think when the most polite person, the most beautiful- fuck, the most sexy person ever on earth is getting laid down in such a dirty, dirty, pathetic way? Scream for me my love, louder I want the whole city to know who is fucking you, who owns the most prettiest slut in town. You drive me wild babyyyy, I can't seem to stop thrusting into you even if I want to, my body craves for you my soul aches for you, without you I'm nothing- oh fuck! I'm gonna cum in yeah again, yeah? You like the sound of that? Does my wifey wanna become a mama? Yeah? Fuck Oh! Feels so good c-can't stop g-gah mmm fuck can't stop, focus on me baby, focus on me on my-aaah! On my thrusts cum with me, I said cum with me- Aaahh fuck fuck FUCK!! OHH feels tooo good baby."

You cum on his cock on command, your mouth opens in a silent scream, throat raw from screaming and moaning his name, your ears are ringing and your thighs are all sticky with cum and arousal, your eyes are rolled back into your skull and your back is arched beautifully, thick cum shoots inside of you one last time for the day, he slowly removes himself from you, your legs shaking like a lone leaf on a tree in winter. "Darling, don't let my cum go waste yeah?" He says while pulling up your panties which were ruined already due to your arousal. "Nanami? I-I'm tired." "I know baby I know, don't worry I'm here just you rest while we leave for home." He kisses your head and slowly lifts you and his work bag and goes to his car making sure you are well covered. The ride home is silent and peaceful, Nanami glances at you every now and then at your sleeping face. Once he stops at the red signal, he slowly takes the hand which he was holding and kisses it while saying, "Thank you my treasure, the only mess I love is you and only you.

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Thank you guys for making it to the end of another fic :)

Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Until next time 🧡

Luv ya guys

#jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #kento smut #jjk kento #female reader #fanfic

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probssomethingorother · 9 months

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Post- Silver Lake Brainrot

I've wanted to put one of these together for a long time (..a long, long time 🎶), and just never did it. With the new year upon us I thought it would be a great time to finally give it a go.

If you are like me and need to know what happened after Joel and Ellie walked away from Silver Lake, here are some fics to scratch that post-8/winter itch. For now I will just list them below, but I may eventually compile them into like a public Ao3 bookmark collection (if I can figure out that magic). [Started! Click the link]

These are going to be the mostly canon compliant/canon-vibes fics, and that's not to say other alternate version of event fics aren't good, I'm just not focusing on them atm here :)

Under the cut, the list is broken down into five fic length categories. Stories are not in any sort of order within each group, and I was only pulling from Archive, so if there is a Tumblr original floating around out there that you are surprised didn't make the list, that is why. In the same vein, I know I probably missed a lot of Ao3 fics. If you think something should be included (ao3 or Tumblr) just let me know!

And lastly, if you click n' read on any of these please try to give the writer some love via kudos or comments! ✨ Spread the good vibes!!

[Disclaimer - If I could find the author's Tumblr I have @'d them, but if I couldn't it's their ao3 name only. If you know an author's tumblr and I haven't linked it, or I have chose the wrong tumblr, or you just don't want your tumblr linked, please feel free to reach out and I will edit!]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨....

�� 🅵🆄🅻🅻 🅰🆂🆂 🅱🅾🅾🅺 (100k+)

>> please don't go by @toointojoelmiller

🅱🅸🅶 🅱🅾🆈 🅲🅻🆄🅱 (10k+)

>> Understanding Your Daughter Who isn't Really Your Daughter by @onlinepigeon

>> Back & Forth by @probssomethingorother

>> Dinosaur by @femmefacetious

>> I've come to know (life is a slow, beautiful heartbreak) by @the-relvin-temult

>> In the After by @probssomethingorother

>> and with you alone by @penandinkprincess

🅼🅴🅰🆃🆈 (5-10K)

>> Awake and Dreaming by @wordswordswords7

>> Let My Arms Bring You Comfort by @ellies-little-gun

>> There's no need to be brave by stained_glass_horizon

>> when she needed me i wasn't around by @periwinklwt

>> drifting by some_pomegranate_tea

>> i start for the great temple by @march-flowerr

>> cold is the water by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson

>> fix me up by survivorellie

>> if we make it through december (we'll be fine) by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson

>> teeth as sharp as cathedral spires by @actual-changeling

>> life, in the after by @dad-joel

>> things we lost to the flames by @dancingonmoonbeams

>> you’re my baby, say it to me by alternatemind

>> Winter's Edge by mikichi

>> the view between villages by @howlingbuchanan

>> Silver As The Snow (it must be cold) by @cgetbrmj

>> Keep Going for You by @someone-worth-racing-for

>> i’ll be coming home soon (long as i can see the light) by @outer-edges

>> This Bitter Earth by mahuika

>> Back to the Middle of Nowhere by @wordswordswords7

>> triage by @penandinkprincess

🆂🅼🅰🅻🅻 🅱🆄🆃 🅼🅸🅶🅷🆃🆈 (3-5k)

>> hold me twenty minutes to sleep (and some things you just can't speak about) by @compassinmyhead

>> Violent Heart by @timelesslords

>> I'll See Us Through by GardenerSnake8822

>> Please Hold Me While I Break Apart by @ellies-little-gun

>> there is fear in love by @durincorporated

>> never let you down again by @timelesslords

>> nothing but bones by gravefaeries

>> a wall between us and the world by @afjakwrites

>> these things eat at your bones (and drive your young mind crazy) by @outer-edges

>> Push through it by @probssomethingorother

>> Let Me Help You by arnabus

>> i'm beyond repair, let me be by thisisthehill_i_die_on

>> rambles and promises and bedtime stories by some_pomegranate_tea

>> never let me go by @ggardengirl

>> to see what i see (woe is me) by awoodenthicket

>> Reassurance by little_mack101

>> facultative by @penandinkprincess

>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges

>> care (how love is shown) by cosmic_idiot1

>> you love me so hard and i still can’t sleep by @marceltheshellwithflipflopson

>> aftermath by @boopernatural

>> With every heartbeat I have left I’ll defend your every breath (I promise I’ll do better) by @memelovescaps

🆀🆄🅸🅲🅺 🅲🅾🅽🆂🆄🅼🅿🆃🅸🅾🅽 (<3k)

>> i’ve always had a violent heart by @mattsbooknook

>> The Parable of the Lost Sheep by riversiders

>> Aftermath by @purplesunrisefanfic

>> how our souls, born to heal, become so prone to die? by @apuliae

>> A Violent Heart by @val-creative

>> No Apologies by @mentallyinlothlorien

>> Aftermath by galaxiesreader

>> These Hands are Clumsy Not Clever by my_immortal_parody

>> never goes away (but it all works out) by @timelesslords

>> Cargo by @mentallyinlothlorien

>> so slip your hand inside my glove (hold me) by @dulce-chisme

>> it's how we show love by @outer-edges

>> Lullaby by @sillysunshinesstuff

>> unforgiven by @eedsknees

>> Endure & Survive by iheartjoelmiller

>> you may bury my body, down by the highway side by ChristmasEve12

>> Touch Me Not by Sokeyy

>> Aftermath by HurtandComfortWriter

>> Broken Violent Heart by ARightFarPiece

>> Indelible Scars, Pivotal Marks. by thefactimadethissaystomuch

>> every night i dream of you by @anpantae

>> Winter's Fury by @dinobotbitch

>> The Aftermath by lettucehater007

>> you are my purpose by prefectrainflowers

>> Be Fruitful and Multiply by Rainy_Rayne

>> do you ever think of me and my two hands? by @eedsknees

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genevawrenn · 6 months

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I have a few things to say about Quackity's stream and the QSMP as a whole.

If you haven't watched the stream, please do so here, I refuse to paraphrase and believe it should be watched in its entirety to form your own opinions. [Here is the YouTube link]

First of all; I don't think any of the actions Quackity took were deliberately malicious. I believe, in my opinion, he got swept up in the excitement and hype surrounding this new project, and we all know how easily that can happen. It's so easy to ignore the small things when you are being showered in positivity.

I think the project got far bigger than he thought which opens up everything to a lot of criticism.

But he does not deserve to feel unsafe, nor is it any sort of appropriate to send him death threats under any circumstances. Nor to anyone, that is a line we should not cross.

Please, for the love of everything, remember this is one of the biggest projects he has ever attempted. Balancing management, his real life, and his public figure status must be incredibly stressful, and you can only do that for so long until things start to go unnoticed. Someone spread so thin is bound to crack, and unfortunately, I think that's what happened with the administration. He's an incredibly busy guy, and to expect him to be so hands-on with the project while keeping up with the rest of his life and future prospects is an inhumane task to keep up with.

Yes, I absolutely agree that healthy amounts of criticism are necessary in something as groundbreaking as this. But under no circumstances *ever* does that become something you can threaten another's safety over.

I also agree he should have said something and apologized to the previous admins who were brave enough to share their story. But I also can agree with the fact this might have been better done privately, at least as much as possible, because the moment you get the public involved someone malicious is going to rip their words apart to use in whatever fashion they wish.

But it's hard to be truly objective and honest when every word you ever say online could be misconstrued and twisted to suit another's fancy.

I think that's where most of the issue lies, at least to me. There are systems in place when handled in a law environment to protect those affected. The moment anything goes public, it's free game for someone to use as they wish.

I think in certain situations, getting the public involved in the good fight is a sound decision, for a group of people are louder than one individual. But it can also grow wildly out of control if not handled properly, and for a delicate situation like this, I think it's only drawn the whole situation out to a painful amount.

I dislike the fact that a lot of my passion has disappeared for the server because this server is full of people whose content I enjoyed previously and some I've only now discovered.

But, I still do believe it's possible for us to hold hope. I have to hold onto that because if there truly is a way for this to turn around it can serve as an example it's possible to recover and put your best foot forward.

I think there's been mistakes all around, blown wildly out of proportion, but I do still want to give this place a chance.

Because what an example it could become if solutions can be found that helps all the parties and the fandom affected by this all.

That's all. Again, this is just my opinion, and I want to discuss it if people want to talk about it reasonably.

Please form your own thoughts after watching the stream, and try to keep an open mind. I understand this might drive a lot of people away, but I believe in the heart of what QSMP is.

This server and community are meant to unite people from across the world. Let's give it a chance to continue to do so, eh?

Edit for some clarification ;

I do not blame the admins for doing what they had to. I'm proud of the brave actions they took facing such a massive community head-on.

I just wish it all could have gone down differently, but we can't change the past, only hope for a better future.

[Here is a transcript of the stream from Twitter, please watch the stream as a priority though]

Edit 2: adding this too

#qsmp #wrenrambles #qsmp situation #quackity studios #quackity smp #again go watch the stream first #form your own opinions #you can critisize but its much better received in a reasonable tone #qsmp discourse #qsmp discussion #qsmp admins #qsmp admins situation

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 7 months

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02/27/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&Crew; SambaSchutte;VicoOrtiz;RhysDarby; Fan Spotlight; More Polls; Repo News; Rotton Tomatos; Watch Party Reminders; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

= Samba Schutte =

Samba posted so much BTS I couldn't fit it on one recap! I I posted some highlights, and you can see all the pictures + merstede video over here.

Obviously if you have instagram please visit Samba's IG Post/Stories

= Vico ortiz =

Vico decided to bless us with "Soft Boi" vibes today.

"💙💚✨Soft Boi✨💚💙 📸: @transnormativity"

Also, Vico is a member of the Public Assembly free theatre in South Pasadena California and "wrote something" for the next assembly! If you're in the area, consider checking it out, it's free!

= Rhys Darby =

Cameo - Reconnecting with Art / Writing!

The cameo today is about Reconnecting with Art / Writing! Thank you to the anonymous sharer who allowed us to partake in this lovely and inspiring cameo!

Cameo Src

== Fan Spotlight ==

Last couple days of February Love Collage Fest! @wndrngnomad even gave us a bonus for #TaikaTuesday! And that catches us up! Just two more days! Want to see the collages anytime, check them out in our Fan Spotlight Section on the repo!

Day 27: Season 1 Costumes

#TaikaTuesday

Day 13: Matthew Maher!

Day 14: February Love!

Day 15: Taika Waititi

PS: Lots more fan spotlights to come, today got away from me and I had a couple more people to check with.

== More Polls to Participate In =

Looks like Ranker is doing a pole on the best HBO Max shows! You can click the up arrow for OFMD, and the down arrow for other shows if you'd like as well to move the rankings around. Thanks @JackieNoses on twitter for recommending it!

== WATCH PARTY REMINDERS! ==

= People of Earth S2 =

People of Earth S2 continues tomorrow Feb 27 at 9 pm GMT / 4pm EST / 3pm CST / 1pm PST. Need access? Reach out to @iamadequate1!

#PiratesOfEarth

= Uncle Season 2 Watch Party! =

Wed 28th + Thurs 29th GMT - 8pm / ET - 3pm / PST - 12 pm Streaming on I-player! Outside the UK? Follow this VPN tutorial to learn more.

#ForTheNewUncle

== Rotten Tomatoes! ==

Just wanted to give a huge shout out to everyone out there doing ratings! We finally made it to 1000+ ratings on Season 2 for Rotten Tomatoes! What an excellent job everyone!!!

== Repo News ==

I am putting this in the recap so that in case someone missed it on my blog I can still try to fix any damage that was done. This is the first para, but please read the whole thing here. "It has come to my attention that a google drive that was linked in my Repo contained art, gifs, images, videos etc that had not been shared with permission of the original artists. I want to sincerely apologize to anyone who this affected." The situation has been rectified, but please, if you were one of the folks affected, please reach out to me and I will see what I can do to help.

== Articles ==

10 Streaming Shows That Were Cancelled Too Soon

== Love Notes ==

Today I would like to take a moment to thank the folks who checked in on me or sent kind words today while I was having a rough time (whether you knew it or not). You all really amaze and humble me with all your kindness and caring. I wanna give a few shoutouts to some folks who kept me sane today @spirker @ofmd-ann @scorpiostarseed @xoxoemynn @catbells-and-summerlinens @brainfugk @hoshiforever @roximonoxide @aliragsandmuffins @melvisik if I missed anyone I promise it's not on purpose but because I am about 3 minutes away from passing out on this couch or I thought you wanted to remain anonymous.

Love Note: From DoodleGems--

You really do deserve to take up space. When you do, you work miracles and you move mountains and you give this tired lady hope. So remember you are worth taking up space and fill it with all your goofy unique wonderful soul <3 Love you lovelies, get some rest tonight.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Okay so I can't stop looking at this post by @ofmd-ann so yes these two are tonight's, even though I'm sure I've posted them individually before (but they go so well together so here we are)

#daily ofmd recaps #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #save ofmd #taika waititi #samba schutte #ofmd bts #vico ortiz #ofmd crew #save ofmd crew #ofmd renewal repo #watch parties

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penvisions · 4 months

Text

the melting point {chapter 19}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: Time passes and heals a lot of things, while others are discussed as the wedding gets closer. Frankie sees the stress weighing down on you amid it all and plans something special…

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: hurt and comfort, fluff, light angst, reader has trauma similar to the triple frontier guys, reader is described as having tattoos for plot points, reader is partially handicapped, reader has mobility issues, adult content, adult content, smut, p in v smut, oral (m recieving), the whole gang is here, plus oc inserts, serious conversations, alcohol consumption, alcohol, mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. that seems to be it, but let me know if i've missed anything!

A/N: as we see this penultimate chapter, i just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who read, liked, commented, and shared this fic that holds a special place in my heart ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“We’re going on a trip. Cleared it with your doctors and ensured them we would keep up with your stretches and daily mobility exercises. Does…does that sound okay?” Frankie is making dinner, busy at the stove as he stirs the contents of one pot and keeps an eye on the other. Simple, today, after you had gone to work a shift at the bakery, and he had been in the air since before the sun rose. Lex was in the living room doing her homework, the tv on but muted to allow her to work easier.

You were at the table, having set it up for the meal and now on your laptop answering emails. You look at him over the top of the screen, about to question him when Lex trots in and all but shoves herself into your lap and puts a piece of paper down across your keyboard.

“Mama Pastel, I don’t understand this.”

“Is this your way of asking for help?”

“Alexia, manners, please. Did you ask Pastel if you could sit in her lap, her legs are still very tender sometimes.”

“Yes, papa.” She barely resists the urge to roll the very same eyes peering over at her. She turns to you with a smile so sweet your heart melts. You wrap an arm around her, holding her in place as you shift your legs to hold her weight more evenly. “Mama Pastel, can you please help me with this, it’s fractions. Also, your legs can hold me, right? I…I feel like I need to be close to someone right now.”

“Of course, mija, my legs are always strong enough to hold you. Fractions are no fun, huh?” You smile over at her father, something he catches before he turns back to finish dinner as you lean down to rest your chin over her little shoulder. The soft murmuring of you helping her with the page fills the room, and it’s enough to make you yearn for everyday to be this easy.

But just last week, Frankie had had a rather alarming nightmare, his mind replaying the events of his hearing. He had woken up in a sweat, frantically wiping at his face to rid himself of the white powder he had been indulging in right in front of the judge. You hadn’t been in bed, which further spiked his overwhelming panic. Searching through the whole house to find you sat behind the wheel of your truck, hands tight on the steering wheel as you bowed you head and sobbed. You had a nightmare of your own, dreaming of driving and loosing the feeling in your legs and crashing. You hadn’t said anything other than that, but Frankie read between the lines. You were afraid of hurting them, of causing them injury with the potential for your limbs to suddenly be numb to your control.

“What are we having for desert?” Lex asks as Frankie announces dinner is ready, turning off the stove tops.

“Little Pastel, that’s what you’re turning into.” Frankie pins her with a raised eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours behind her as he settles the pots in the middle of the table on trivets.

His lips are twitching as he tries to tame a fond smile in order to chastely parent. Though you can see right through him, worry and love for his daughter outshining the reminder to be kind and respectful because he knows it’s a reminder that she’s comfortable around you enough to push into your space and seek you out in the ways that she has been. It’s been a little better since she returned to school, feeling more like herself and doing better in crowds. She had even asked to go on the winter fieldtrip, a weeklong thing at a conservation center down South toward the coastline. You had both agreed it would be good for her, even more so since she seemed so excited. But needed her therapist to sign off in the idea before a decision was made.

“Better than little Catfish!” She fired back loudly with giggles that only increased in volume as you tickled her sides and asked her what was so wrong with being like her daddy.

“He’s so good to us, we should both wanna be more like him, I think.” She squeals as she fidgets in your hold, trying not to lose her balance still in your lap. But you don’t let her fall, you wouldn’t dare. You look up at him and offer him a bright smile he can’t help but reflect back before he says to dig in before the food gets cold.

“Thank you,” You wound your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him as his hands helped to guide you into a comfortable position against him. Nestled in between his outstretched legs, you pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. You moved to do so to the other side, but he dipped down and captured your lips fully with his own. You had been doting over wedding plans when he had found you in bed, papers and brochures and an open laptop scattered all around you.

“No need to thank me, sweet girl. Want you to be comfortable. You okay with this, not too much pressure on your hips?” His hands were light on you, helping to support you as you stood on your knees over him. But you didn’t answer him with words, instead you planted yourself right over his lap, grinding down on him. The deep groan he graced you with was swallowed by your willing mouth, tongue lapping at his lips to catch the lingering taste of something sweet he had eaten.

“Q-querida, we- you sure this is okay?” Despite his cock stirring in his boxer briefs, his worry for you softened your heart further and you felt adoration for the man beneath you fill your chest with a jittery feeling. You had been lingering, staying up late to greet him after his double, triple flight tour day. It had been marked on the communal whiteboard in the kitchen for weeks now, a reminder that he was still the only one working.

“Frankie, I need you. It’s been so long.” You’re suddenly desperate, having been alone all day. Caring for and totting Lex to and from school, making dinner with her, getting her bathed and settled into bed with a fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer and a bedtime story. You longed for the days to feel just like that, the shadow of Frankie all around the house, in her smile, her laugh, her sparkling brown eyes. Her love for you as strong as the love you had for him and for her in return. The ease of domesticity stirring something in you, making you feel like your skin was too tight and Frankie was the only one who could help abate it.

“I-I want to…”

“Just, let me sit on it. Please, carino, I need to feel you inside me.” You can’t help the whine of your voice, the scent of him fresh from the shower and dressed only in his underwear laid across the bed too much of a temptation.

“Fuck, you can have anything you want, just want you to be comfortable.”

“I will be, once your cock is nestled as deep as it can go, filling me up, stretching me. God, Fransisco, your cock is so beautiful, so thick and hard, and perfect. You’re perfect to me, for me. I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.” You panted against his lips, kisses smothering the words into his skin, his lips, his scruff, the column of his neck. Hands trailing down and releasing him from the fabric.

“Dios mio, mija, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

“Let me show you what kinda mouth I’ve got.” You push down further to rest over his shins, hips hinged as you lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his weeping head. His hips stutter up, chasing the feeling of your warm breath as you pull back to relieve yourself of his large shirt you had stolen before settling in bed to wait for him.

It’s slow, despite your desperation for the man you loved, the way you take him fully into your mouth and lave at the velvet hardness of his cock with your tongue. Taking him as deep as you could before bobbing your head at a savoring pace. His thick fingers tangle into your hair, gathering it into a mockery of a ponytail to better see your face.

Hallowing your cheeks, you look up at him through your lashes and groan around him at the wreckage you’ve caused. His mouth is hanging open, plush lips wetted by his tongue and puffy from your barrage of kisses. Beautiful eyes blown wide as he takes in the image you create between his legs, blush high on his cheeks as he feels the slight scrape of your teeth along his length. He’s still so warm from his shower, smelling of his woodsy and homey soap. But he chokes on his next breath as you dive down, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you close your eyes to revel in the feeling of him thick and hard in your mouth.

“Get up here,” He moans out, hands letting your hair fall from its loose hold. You readily pull your mouth from him, making sure to lick a firm strike up from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip before moving up to straddle his waist. He shimmies from his underwear completely, shucking them to crumple at the end of the bed along with all the paperwork you had hastily piled together.

His cock nudges against your inner thighs and you take him in a gentle hand to line him up properly while he latches a mouth around your breasts, free from the flimsy camisole you had on just seconds ago. He bites down on the hardened peak as you sink down, slick arousal making it easy for him to stretch you. A wonton moan at the feel of him after so long catches as he grazes that soft, spongy spot at the perfect angle and your hips rock forward suddenly. His hands wrap around your ribs, grounding you, keeping you upright even as you arch at finally sitting flush, hips to hips after what had been nearly six months of being cautious and careful. Nearly six months of waiting and pleasuring each other in other ways.

“I’ve got ya, sweet girl. Just take your time, we’ve got all the time in the world for you to feel good.” He rumbles, voice gravel as he presses kisses all along your neck and chest, nipping at the soft weight of your chest, your lips, your cheeks. Everywhere he could to sooth you while you adjusted to feeling so full once again. “Gonna make you feel good for the rest of our lives, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” You stutter out, lifting up slightly before sliding back down his length with an obscenely wet sound. His lips capture yours and you hook your arms around his neck, beginning to move against him to spark pleasure across both your bodies.

It was winter, the new year just having passed, Alexia sent off on her fieldtrip, leaving you and Frankie to each other for the entire week.

Open road is stretched in front of you, the tires below you moving quickly and devouring it as quickly as Frankie would allow. You were busy in the passenger seat, one of his hands on firmly on the wheel while the other moved the piece of paper in your hand to get a better glimpse at it over his dark aviators.

“I think we should keep it small, even if the city has rallied to help us.”

“Yeah, I don’t want a huge thing, its already going to be in the paper. An article in the magazine.”

“We can ask them to not do that, if you really want.” He smoothly drifts into the fast lane to pass a slower work truck laden down with a trailer full of yard work machinery, shifting back into the slow lane as soon as he’s passed them and had enough room to safely do so before he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The flowers, the venue, the caterers, the photographer, everyone one of the local businesses had offered to either donate their services or severely discount you for the event. Wanting to make sure you both had everything you needed or wanted for the momentous day.

It had honestly shocked you, when you discovered just how much the people around the city appreciated your efforts during that fateful last day of the farmer’s market. Offering your shop to those seeking shelter in the chaos, the people you had stopped to help if they were bleeding or limping from the rushing crowds as you searched for your own people amidst it all.

“No, I think…I think it’s nice to have some good publicity for the bakery.”

“Did…did you pick out a date you wanted?” You paused, looking out the window as you felt your heartrate pick up and your nerves spark to life. It was beyond sappy, you realized, but the particular date you had in mind seemed to work out perfectly with all the vendors, with family needing to fly in or travel, with a break for there to be coverage at the bakery and Lex’s school out for the summer…

“I wanted to pick one that meant something to both of us so…I was wondering if the date we first met was okay with you?”

“Sweet girl, that’s…that’s perfect. I was thinking it but didn’t want to influence the decision if you already had your heart set on something.” His hand curled tighter over your thigh, dull fingernails making light marks in your skin.

He helps you out of the truck at the next gas stop. His hands strong around your waist as he makes sure you have both feet on the ground and your cane in hand before he dips to kiss you cheek and lets you loose to make your way into the building. The giggle bursting from your lips and the slight float to the skirt of your dress has him feeling warmth bloom in his chest as he makes sure you have no trouble along the small distance. Someone is exiting just as you approach the door and they do a double take at the sight of your tattoos on display and the flattering form of the dress over your skin, holding the door open for you and saying something you seem to reciprocate.

Frankie busies himself with hooking the gas pump into the tank’s opening and looks up to watch you amble through the store through the wide windows, the guy who held the door open doing on the other side of the pump. You’re slow in your movements around the few aisles, taking in all of the sweet and savory options. But you make sure to grab a dr. pepper and a cherry coke. Mini powdered donuts make their way into your hand holding the drinks to your chest before you approach the checkout.

“She’s a looker, man, good on you.” Comes from the other side of the pump before a vehicle takes off.

“Frankie! I got snackies!” You hold up a plastic bag the second you’re back out the door, shaking it slightly before grimacing and halting the movement, realizing it would make the drinks fizz up. “Oops, my bad.”

“Sweet girl, what did you get us to munch on? We’re only about half an hour out at this point.”

“And where is it we’re going again?”

“Nice try, querida, but it’s a secret. I think you’ll really like it.” He pressed the tip of his index finger to your nose as you enter his orbit. Hand moving to take the cane from you and place it in the truck exactly where you preferred it. It was a beautiful thing, sleek carved wood stained a dark, espresso brown. The hand coated in silver cast to look like blooming flowers to ensure your grip is secure and travel down a few inches. The tip of it capped with rigged silver as well to help with steadying your uneven right side.

He takes the bag from you next, setting it down in the middle of the bench seat, the center console pushed up to create more room for you to cross your legs while you went over stuff. It wasn’t the best position for you to be sitting in for long hours, but you argued it was one of the few ways that brought relief sometimes so he let you do what you thought was best. He had put his foot down and gotten stern with you though, saying that if he noticed it was doing more harm than good that he was going to ask you to try and sit another way.

Truth be told, Frankie would carry you for the rest of your live if you would allow him to. Should you need to be off your feet altogether. A custom wheelchair having been ordered to replace the generic one the insurance company had covered for immediate use after your surgeries. It had been a long conversation, one in which both of you had shed tears during. But the agreement was that it would be stored in the downstairs closet and brought out for longer trips, hospital visits that would take more than a quick pop in and out to ensure no uncomfortable and hard waiting room chairs caused harm, and days where the errands piled up.

While you were recovered from the surgeries and dealing with the trauma of what happened, your legs worked as well as they could. Though the already replaced right one tended to go numb at random intervals the doctors could only explain as part of a degenerative disease that had probably been undiagnosed before the first shooting. The left often got a tingling sensation, sciatic nerve sensitive on both sides making it hard for you to get out and about some days.

Working full time had been another conversation, safety rails installed with the help of the guys all around the house should you be home alone. The showers in the two bathrooms you used were set to be remodeled with ledges for you to set on should you want to, the tubs to be replaced with shower stalls and a fancy tub of your choosing to be put in the master one attached to yours and Frankie’s room.

He worried about the stairs, something that took a longer conversation in which you admitted to feeling like you were flipping his whole life upside down and ruining the home he had carefully curated for him and his daughter. His solution had been as simple as breathing, as loving you: turn the guest room and laundry room into a new downstairs master, expand the kitchen to accommodate the laundry room equipment. The money it would take had caused you to break down, even if Frankie hadn’t batted an eye at the arguably large sum it would require.

Will and Benny had argued that two cousins of theirs that resided in Texas was more than willing to make the trip to oversee the project. They had readily agreed to absolve the labor and graciously discount the materials as long as their flights were covered, and they had a place to stay as for the duration.

You had briefly talked with Joel about it, equal parts meek and steadfast on certain aspects of the project. Insistent that they would be able to stay in the apartment above the bakery. You had promised you didn’t want to be difficult, but the man’s deep twangy voice had assured you that you had every right to be since it was for your comfort.

Trees got thicker on either side of the winding road as the elevation hiked up. Deep in a forest of some part of the northern portion of the state. Somewhere you had no idea of, the GPS on the truck shut off and Frankie leading the vehicle with just the inner workings of his mind. The truck was moved into second gear and the engine rumbled loudly as Frankie continued to drive. He had shut off the radio to concentrate, something you did often as you drove to new places for the first time. A pleased smile pulling at your lips as you discovered things about him that you shared.

Turning off the paved road, the tires crunched over a gravel one as he continued on. You were leaning out of your seat to try and better see the glimpse of bright blue off aways between the trees.

“Almost there, sweet girl.”

“Frankie, what in the world did you plan?”

He just chuckled, jostling your thigh in his grip before removing it. You were about to turn to him when you heard the hum of conversation and laughter through the open window. The gentle splash of water trickling in the background as he rounded one last curve and began to pull up the drive of an impressive looking cabin. It was all dark tones with neutral accents in the form of a large patio that shifted into a deck, stretching out onto a decent sized lake. The water sparkling in the sunshine and temporarily stunning you.

“About time, Fish! Mante, watch this!” Benny hollered as he ran down the length of the deck that jutted out into the water and leapt from the edge of it. Balling up, he made a spectacular splash into the pristine water, causing it to splatter all over the girls lounging on the bank. Morgan and Luciana only laughed as Benny bobbed up to the surface, wiping the water from their skin and turning to wave at you from their spots. Will and Santiago were over by the grill, trading laden down plates with of cooked and raw items from a long wooden picnic table set up right in the middle of the covered part of the deck that doubled as a large patio off the side of the cabin.

“Figured the water would feel good on your hip. Got you a set of trekking poles if you want to hike, but there’s also plenty for us to do around the cabin if you don’t feel like it. Whatever you wanna do, sweet girl.”

“Don’t be hoggin’ the woman, primo.” Santiago sidles up to the passenger door, leaving Will to handle the grill on his own. His sunglasses pushed up into his hair as he reached through the open window to brush an errant wave of hair away from your face and behind your ear. You feel warmth blossom in your chest at the endearing move, grateful for the man that he was and the part he had become in your life even if it had been more than bumpy since meeting him. “Let’s get the week started! C’mon, Fish can unload the truck. I’ve got your favorite beer in the cooler waiting for you, hermosa.”

Before you move through the door Santiago opens for you, you lean over and take Frankie’s face in both your hands to kiss him deeply. Your hands trail down the thickness of his neck to rest atop his shoulders as you scoot across the long bench of the front seat, the center console pushed up. You hook your arms around them to scoot closer to him, pressed your chest flush with his. Tongue licking into his mouth, you sneak your hands into the back of his shirt dip them below his belt and grope at skin beneath. Hoots and hollers rang around the open space hidden in the trees, making your heart soar to be around so many friends, around Frankie.

He seems a little star stuck as you scoot out and walk arm in arm with his best friend toward the hub and bub of the deck, taking a moment before he pushes himself from his won seat behind the wheel and follows suit with a shining grin.

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taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime @peppermintfury @tuquoquebrute @readingiskeepingmegoing @christinamadsen @heareball @soft-persephone @vivian-pascal @undercoverpena @undercoverpena-fics

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meowmarkie · 4 months

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nct dream as yearning songs

a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)

Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo

Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye

You better save it for

The middle of the night when things aren't black and white

Enter, Troubadour

"Remember 24?"

Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.

You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier

See how it shines

Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.

(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)

The speed that you moved

The screech of the cars

The creature still moving

That slowed in your arms

The fear in its eyes

Gone out in an instant

Your tear caught the light

The Earth from a distance

Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey

If you go, I'll stay

You come back, I'll be right here

Like a barge at sea

In the storm, I stay clear

We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough.

His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.

Say yes to Heaven

Say yes to me

Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults

Now it's been long enough to talk about it

I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it

I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision

But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?

This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.

His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.

Haven't I given enough, given enough?

Always the fool with the slowest heart

But I know you'll take me with you

We'll live in spaces between walls

Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey

I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club

In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.

I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.

My love, my love

Washing my hair, doing the laundry

Late night TV, I want you on me

Like when we were kids

Under chemtrails and country clubs

It's never too late, baby, so don't give up

Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married

Still alive killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time

You lowdown boy, you standup guy

You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm

The love of your life

I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.

His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

Your arson's match, your somber eyes

And I'll still see it until I die

You're the loss of my life

Jisung - Brother, Kodaline

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea I

'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it.

There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.

I’ve got you brother

The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.

We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

Nothing new is sweeter than with you

I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.

Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

45 notes · View notes

8-dermestid · 7 months

Text

it's like as if somebody was gripping my throat

relationship: eyeless jack x reader

word count: 6.2k

links: available to read on ao3

warnings: canon-typical violence

M. Eerie National Park is one of the most boring places to work. You hike the trails to make sure nobody is trying to stay after hours, clean up garbage, and befriend the local cryptid.

Nobody knows about that last part except for you.

(like/reblogs are greatly appreciated, requests are open ✷)

“—Shocking news for M. Eerie National Park. Another victim, twenty-one-year-old Penn State student Ryan Sheppard, discovered on the property—”

You dig into your food, tuning out the broadcast as you scarf down your lunch and prepare for work. You rinse your bowl, toss it into the dishwasher, and move into the bedroom to change out of your pajamas and into your uniform. You pull up your cargo pants and pull on a green collared shirt with the M. Eerie National Park logo embroidered on the pocket. After deodorant, you pull on your hiking boots, grab your jacket and bag, and leave towards your car.

She’s a beat-up old thing, but she gets you to and from work without too much trouble. It’s a short, red, rust-damaged Honda Civic. Your car’s engine is strong, and it, other than the external imperfections and duct-taped-on mirror, has treated you well, and you’ve never felt the need to trade up.

(Nor the want, being a park ranger hardly gives you enough money to keep your head above the water, but you love it, and working an office job sounds worse than pulling all your toenails out at once with rusty pliers.)

The car sputters to life, rumbling beneath you in her comfortable and familiar way. You look down at the radio—the clock reads 14:37—you’ll be on time for the start of your shift. The drive isn’t exciting, and you’d take your boring drive over a three-hour drive to the office any day. Your job is so easy, too, a simple routine you follow every day—go in during the afternoon, hike the trails before closing, watch for lost folks and garbage, and close up the park. It’s easy, so easy that your job is almost dull. You walk into the break room, your lunch in your non-dominant hand, and stumble into a meeting.

“Oh. Hey guys.” You hesitate, creeping over to put your food in the fridge. Usually, the break room was empty, and Leslie, your superior in the standard uniform with her beat-up clipboard, was marching back and forth like a drill sergeant.

In the kindest way possible, you hope she retires. She’s been working here for so long and managing everything that she deserves some R-and-R. Leslie is the backbone of the team, and one would have to pry her position from her cold, dead hands (even then, it would still be a fight), but she should consider passing the job to someone else.

You plop down in one of the three empty chairs. Two of your coworkers transferred to another park (quite suddenly, too, no two-week notice or anything). It’s not good, especially considering they were the only other people working your shift.

“Alright, we can wrap up this meeting with a quick problem,” Leslie begins again, waving quietly to you. “Guests have been reporting stolen items more than usual, lots of jackets, gloves, boots, ooh—food, too,” Leslie jots something down on her clipboard, “To be honest, I think people are just misplacing things and blaming it on the wildlife, but if you see anything, just radio me, and I’ll come to help you sort it out.”

You nod. People leave things where they shouldn’t be all the time—you can't count the number of times families wake up with ransacked coolers because they leave them outside unprotected.

Leslie sighs, “And—look—there have been more than a few teens sneaking off into the woods before we close. Please, I don’t want another 24-hour challenge incident on our record. Keep an eye out for them. I mean it.”

Everyone affirms, whether with a nod or a “Yes, Leslie.”

The team filters out of the break room, and one of your coworkers (with wild, dark hair and stickers nearly smothering the Molly on her nametag) bounds to your side like a deer.

“You think it’s a bear?” She asks. She’s practically bouncing off the walls despite Park Ranger being the least thrilling job on the planet.

You shrug. You don’t carry the same energy that Molly does. She is just a wee sixteen-year-old at your side working her first big girl job, and any excitement at this middle-of-nowhere park is a godsend for her.

“Well, it could be a bear. But, I mean, a bear wouldn’t be stealing men’s jackets or boots.” she suggests, “Maybe not a bear, or maybe it’s those kids again… Remember the kids from a few weeks ago?”

Oh. Oh, of course, you remember those kids. Three of them, two girls and some in-between kid, all seventeen and seniors at the local high school (local being the closest high school, which was thirty miles away) that Leslie caught trying to stay overnight for some silly internet challenge. One of them, the in-between kid with the flattest hair you’ve seen in a while, brought an Ouija board because of some weird internet gossip about your park. It was strange—super, duper weird—because the couple (apparently, maybe? You aren’t sure) ditched the third girl to make out under an abandoned deck. Leslie only caught them because the third (a taller, more heavyset girl with colored hair) was terrified of some tall, slender man who scared her on the internet.

“God, don’t remind me.” You finally say. You still remember the three of them yelling at each other, Leslie dragging them out by the collars of their shirts like scruffed cats after they got caught (because one of the girls was a crybaby, their words, not yours).

Leaving the break room and finally feeling the sun this morning, Molly waves you goodbye and starts jogging down her favorite trail. She’s got energy for miles; if she were older and wiser, she could compete with Leslie.

Speaking of, Leslie pats your shoulder. Her grey hair shimmers in the sun, and she, with wrinkles showcasing her long and fulfilling life, smiles down at you.

“Afternoon, kiddo. You doing alright?”

You nod, more focused on the heavy workload you have in front of you.

Leslie pats your back like a coach would to her favorite player, “I know Josh and Ryan quitting hasn’t been easy on you.” Her voice is too solemn for a work transfer, “I’ll be working tonight, too, if that eases you.”

You perk up, half with relief and half because working with Leslie is the best. It’s comforting to have a superior like her around when people start getting wild in the woods; she’s good at grabbing people by the scruff and dragging them out, kicking and hollering.

“You can take care of the Southern Reach, yeah? You’re a big kid—you can handle it.”

You’re more than just a kid, but between her being near retirement age while you are fresh out of college—you are a kid in her eyes. You nod, already unhooking your heavy flashlight from its carabiner.

“That’s the ticket. I’ll take Northern. We’ll meet back up here for closing.”

“No, no, I’ll handle closing.” You persuade, “Come on, Leslie, I can handle closing a big gate. Just handle Northern and go home.”

She debates it, rolling the idea around in her mind before conceding. “Alright, kiddo. Just this once, though.”

At first, with the sun just touching the horizon, your checks go well, and you clean up a few empty beer cans along the southernmost trails. Your trash bag is light, which is a plus. You don’t need to pull your flashlight out until past seven in the evening when the moon peeks out behind you. You find an empty can of soup (chicken-noodle but with star-shaped pasta instead of noodles). The top looks messily cut, as if with a knife, which isn’t at all uncommon.

Except, well, this can has a pull tab disregarded by the previous user. You turn over the can in your palm, examining the shredded metal and paper label, and toss it into the bag with the rest of the trash.

Further, closer to the center of the trails, there is another disemboweled can. You pick up one, the lid is also ripped off, the pull-tab forgotten about, yet this soup can has more than half of it ripped off into a swirly shape, almost like someone was desperate for something to eat. It’s Campbell’s, not Grandma’s cooking.

There’s another can further into the woods, more shredded than the last, with a deep dent in the center; the can was clean, too clean, which is both weird and disgusting. Dogs shouldn’t eat this stuff concentrated—too much sodium.

Another one; there is a streaky, black substance marbling with some soup still sitting at the bottom of the can; another, and more of that black slime. You carefully pick up each one and add it to the bag. The next can has more of that substance—almost too much. The smell is putrid. It burns inside your nose, and you get a whiff of formaldehyde or something that reeks of death.

You keep traveling into the woods, finding more debris and litter, an old chewed-through sleeve, a jacket, and a glove smattered with that syrup-y oil. There’s something wet beneath your palm, and thank the stars you chose to bring your gloves this morning. It’s red, with a black slime marbled in it. It’s sticky between your fingers, and it smells awful. You follow the trail of red and black with your flashlight.

The source is the mangled carcass of a hiker wearing a high-vis vest. You suck in a breath and reach for your walkie-talkie. It’s sickening, and you can’t stop looking at the body as you radio for your superior.

“Leslie? Leslie, you there?” You plead, hands shaking and mind racing. Of all the people you want to pick up, it’s her. She’s been working here since before you were born—maybe she’s found a mutilated person in her time working the trails.

The silence stretches for an eternity until you hear a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, I’m here. What’s going on?” She asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” You make the mistake of looking at it, at the remnants of a man, at the carcass before you. “I don’t even know what could do something like this.” God, it makes you sick, but you can’t look away.

“Come on, talk to me,” She barks, her voice firm with years of seniority, “What are you seeing? Talk.”

You swallow. “Some hiker got attacked. They’re not responsive,” You mutter into your little plastic lifeline. “I’m off Trapper’s—I don’t know—Christ, I’m going to be sick.”

“...Okay,” Leslie replies quickly, “Are you safe?”

You don’t know the answer to that question. You swallow a lump in your throat as you look frantically for movement in the dark woods. Leslie says something, but you can’t hear it over the sound of your heart hammering away in your ears. You see movement between the trees, the primal part of your brain attempting to identify any immediate danger. Everything is spinning, it reeks of death, and Leslie’s voice is staticky because of the shitty speakers.

“Answer me! Come on, kiddo, where are you?” She shouted, her voice laced with harsh static.

Your flashlight flickers, and you hope whoever ordered these flashlights has something horrible happen to them. Something rustles in the bush. The only thing you have to protect yourself is a bag of loose garbage and your shitty flashlight. Leslie is shouting so loud you can only hear half of her words. Whatever emerges from that bush will eat you alive—you’re sure of it.

The stench of death gets heavier as a figure crawls out from beneath the foliage, wearing a dark hoodie and a blue mask. There’s blood and guts caked under their fingernails, and they look filthy and smell worse. They lock eyes with you and try to stand, stumbling and letting out a near-inhuman cry. You hold your heavy flashlight like a baton—all it’s useful for, considering the lightbulb works when it wants to—as the masked stranger lets out a wheezy breath and crawls towards you.

You grip the flashlight so hard your hands are shaking, taking careful steps back to maintain some distance between both of you. Their approach doesn’t stop. They reach and grab at your leg and pull you to the ground. Your head is spinning as it collides with the damp earth, and you feel two hands digging into your abdomen, sharp nails scratching and attempting to burrow into your stomach. You shout as their ice-cold hands scrape across your body, their claws raking across tender flesh.

You thrash and try to push them away, but they hold you down with one hand and remove their mask with the other.

You always said you’d know what to do if you were in a slasher flick. You always called the protagonists stupid for freezing up in front of certain death, never thinking about what it felt like, knowing you were probably going to die. You look them in the eye—more so what’s left of them, staring into two tar-filled sockets where their eyes would be—and unable to do anything.

You lay back, each breath barely making it in and out of your lungs. They stop, hands still pressed firmly against you. They crane their neck, probably just as surprised as you for simply giving up. They tug your shirt back down, pressing a palm over it and smoothing the fabric with their palm.

It reignites something in you because before either of you can register what’s happening, they’re squealing in pain as you hit them upside the head with your flashlight. You scramble away, pulling yourself to your feet and running blindly to the main trail.

You don’t stop, even after the demonic cries die out under the sound of the beginning storm. You push and push yourself until you nearly collide with Leslie.

“Stars—! Kid, where the hell were you? What the hell happened to you?”

She shines the light across your face, then brushes a leaf from your coat. It’s hard to think about speaking; Leslie knows you’re trying.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, I’ll drive you home, kiddo.”

“But the—”

“Don’t worry about it,” She says as softly as she can, “You’ve done all you can do. Anything about you that I should be worried about?”

You pat your abdomen, a few lines of brown blood staining the front. You shake your head, and Leslie holds off on grilling you for details.

✷𓃞 ✷

She drives you home in her big pickup truck (she even went through a drive-thru and got you something to eat on the way home). She pats your back as you dig through the bottom of the bag for scraps.

“Don’t think about coming back tomorrow—Partly because you’ve been through hell tonight—but also because there’s going to be an investigation. Look—take it easy, maybe go see your doctor, don’t come back until at least next Tuesday.”

Leslie pulls over to the side of your street and pulls out a box of cigarettes. “I mean it, take it easy. You do enough work while you’re on the clock; don’t worry about anything—I have people that can cover your shift if you need more time off.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking towards your house, digging your keys from your jacket to escape the rainy weather. You shut the door behind you, and Leslie walks towards her truck, a thin line of smoke trailing behind her.

You open the door, and a warm puff of air welcomes you home. It’s quiet and dark, leaving you on edge from tonight’s incident. Instead of relaxing—like Leslie practically ordered you to—you drop your bag at the front door and book it to your computer. It hums to life, and you punch in your password and open your web browser. Surprisingly, being attacked by a person-shaped thing did not perturb your furious web-searching.

Creature in the woods near me

Masked creature, person that tried to eat me?

Blue man— you hastily hit backspace as Blue Man Group auto-fills in your search bar.

You keep trying outrageous combinations of words, eventually finding a near-defunct blog with a picture of the freaky humanoid that almost killed you.

EYELESS JACK. Well, the name fits. At least you’ve finally got a name for that face. You read through this article, which recounts this woman—a hiker-slash-rock-climber, to be more specific—coming into contact with a human-ish guy. They had a few photos of deep claw wounds that scarred over pale on her dark skin. You jot down the name, continuing to dig into the incident recounted by this woman.

You pause and close all your curtains and turn off all the lights (and you get yourself a drink to keep yourself awake). Sinking into your chair again, you continue the deep dive into this Eyeless Jack fellow, feeling like a detective from some once-popular show that wasn’t that good. You keep searching—jotting down leads for your search—until the sun is peeking over the horizon, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Eyeless Jack has been around for longer than you first believed—they’ve probably been terrorizing after-dark visitors of your park for years, right under your nose.

Are there more missing-person cases? Did any of your coworkers who quit unexpectedly actually have a reason? God, this journey to the weirdest parts of the internet has left you with more questions than answers.

You look down at the big sticky-note pad you used for notes. It looks like you fell off the deep end with your feverish scrawling, smeared ink, and lots of quick notes about disembowelment, kidney removal, and even cult activity. You think this may need another night of internet excavation to answer those (and inevitably, come up with more, even crazier, questions). Based on a few accounts of unwanted kidney removal in their sleep, you think about getting something to eat—

—and staying as far from your bed as possible.

✷𓃞 ✷

You can’t even eat breakfast without being tempted by your thirst for knowledge; it’s unbearable. You don’t even want to think of spending more than a few days at home. Hopefully, the police hurry up and finish so you can start your investigation.

You quickly rinse and dry your empty dish, filling a glass of water and flopping onto the couch. Surfing channels and finding something mindlessly entertaining will probably take your mind off things.

The news is boring—talking about the recent storm off the southern coast—and some cooking show. A history documentary—about someone you don’t care for—a jewelry channel, another news channel, and a kids’ show.

(Tempting, but no.)

The local news, though not mindless, is entertaining. There’s an over-top camera view of the park. Dozens of police cruisers and K-9 units are parked—and you can see your car, your old, rusty girl in the lot—Cops are infesting every corner of your TV, some moving into the woods toward Trapper’s, others lingering to talk in the view of the helicopter. It cuts to a news anchor recapping the incident from last night. They think it’s a bear attack. Leslie says it was a bear attack. Your coworkers say it was a bear attack, and Wildlife Removal will deal with it.

They don’t know anything—Jack tore into that hiker like a wild animal—and left the poor guy’s insides all over the forest floor.

You don’t stop watching the news until they start talking about the weather, where you only half-listen. There’s going to be a storm tonight. The teams at your job are probably going to try to recover the body and bring it to the morgue before it starts raining.

You turn off the TV after that. You examine your abdomen, five short lines across your belly where their claws made contact. You decide to go to the bathroom to clean and dress them.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” You tell yourself.

After a few cotton balls soaked in alcohol and big bandaids later, everything is clean enough and about as well-dressed as you can, considering your supplies.

There’s not much to do at home, and trying to take your mind off things with your usual hobbies isn’t working. You even try scrolling mindlessly online, but you can’t stop thinking about last night.

Why did they stop—and so suddenly?

You lift your shirt and brush your thumb over the bandaids on your belly, the skin still too hot and tender. Maybe you were just lucky, stupidly lucky. You pick up your home phone and dial Leslie’s number. She at least deserves a warning about what’s out there.

“...What are you doing?”

“Leslie,” there’s some strain in your tone, “Hey, Leslie. How are things?”

“You’re calling about work? You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

“I know, but—Look, it’s about last night. I know you specifically told me not to do any digging, but—”

“Kid,” She cuts you off. You can picture her frustration as she probably rubs at her temples, “Tell me you did not do that.”

Yes. Yes, you did.

She sighs dramatically. “You work too hard—even when I order you to stop thinking about work, you do it anyway.”

“Look, it wasn’t an animal. It was a guy.”

“...What.”

You pull the phone from your ear. You probably do sound crazy. And you will continue to sound crazy when you talk about what you found online from defunct blogs from 1999. No matter how you try to spin it—every time you start talking—you can not come up with the words to explain that the scary internet creature is real. Leslie will not believe you, and who the hell would?

“...Nevermind. I have to go. I have, uhh, laundry in the dryer.” You mutter.

“Well, feel better, and stop going on the internet—you’ll scare yourself out of your skin with stuff people make up for fun,” Leslie sighs, then her voice goes soft, “I mean it. Take care of yourself. We’re thinking of you, kiddo. Oh, and Molly says hi.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “...Well, let Molly know I said ‘Hi’ back.”

“Will do. Okay, see you next week.”

You hang up.

✷𓃞 ✷

It’s damp. The fallen leaves are starting to rot and turn mushy under their boots. Jack tears through another can with their claws and downs a mixture of soup and soaked-through chicken. They drink, grinding the sinewy chicken and too-soft between their teeth, swallowing harshly and curling up at the taste. Police swarming the woods like ants to fruit has been awful; Jack is tired. Everything burns, they’re tired of running, and they’re still so hungry.

Other foods are necessary to Jack’s diet—they can’t live off meat. They need carbs and stuff—but if Jack has to spend more time seeing faces, they will start digging for their kidneys. They collapse underneath a fallen tree, curling up like a woodlouse. If the police find them, Jack just hopes it’s quick.

They can hear men shouting somewhere nearby with their big, angry dogs.

Jack falls asleep there, eventually, and they don’t know what time it is when they wake up, just that it’s dark out again, and it’s so quiet.

They survive off stolen clothing and soup cans between stays at the manor. Though their vision is gone, Jack still lives with psychosis (one would figure getting their eyes melted with hot tar would prevent visual hallucinations). Eating human flesh, though a taboo solution to their symptoms, allowed Jack to clear their mind and function.

Jack sunk deeper under the heavy log when they heard footsteps and a whining dog.

“I know, boy.” A man says, coughing as the air smells of cigarettes.

Jack’s nose burns at the smell. The dog sniffs at the earth and knocks aside a pile of leaves with its nose, whining and howling. The officer kicks aside the leaves and sighs.

“...Alright,” He says, the metal bits of the dog’s vest clicking together as the dog grows restless, thrashing against it.

The man hunches down, the sound of a plastic bag crinkling in his palm, muttering something to the canine.

“Atta-boy. Come on, Chester, it’s damn creepy out here.” With the tug of the leash, the officer and his canine retreat out of the woods.

When the two are out of earshot, Jack squeezes out from under the log and feels around in the dirt, sniffing the air and only smelling wet earth. Their chest tugs in a sickened sort of way, and they sink back into their hiding place and curl up into a ball. The rain picks up again. Wind howls and thunder crackles in the sky, rattling the earth.

Their new jacket, which they snatched off an unsuspecting hiker, was Jack’s only protection from hypothermia stealing the heat from their digits. Jack breathes into their palms, hot air flowing across their stiff fingers (which Jack promptly stuffed into their underarms to warm them up).

The wind doesn't hesitate to rob Jack’s already-deprived body of what little it has. Jack can’t stop thinking about how hungry they are—and how they see faces melting in their periphery whenever their mind wanders. They pick at the raw edges of their sockets in a measly attempt to soothe. It doesn't work. Nothing works anymore, even when Jack can consume human meat. After only a few hours, Jack’s skin is already itching with the need to keep consuming, to keep eating, to stave off their psychosis by any means necessary. They tug—and tug, and tug, and tug until they’re shaking—at their raw skin, where hardened pitch meets seared flesh and patchy brows. It’s unbearably cold, it’s so fucking cold, and going back to that hellish manor sounds like paradise right about now.

But that’s not an option.

✷𓃞 ✷

Tuesday finally comes around, and you can return to work.

You pack two lunches today. Your bag is just leftovers in a takeaway container (dinner from yesterday), and the other is a sandwich with a few slices of Swiss cheese and meat (far more meat than you’ve ever used at once). It’s got other things on it; you aren't going to give some hungry person—who’s probably been living alone in the wilderness for who knows how long—a boring sandwich. Too bad if they don’t like mayo (Well, you hope they like mayo, lest they rip you in two for the offense of a condiment on real-people food).

You fill your water bottle, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Leslie’s truck is humming outside. Your car is still in the lot at work. You were not in any condition to drive after, and Leslie would not have let that happen. She moves her bags as you climb into the passenger seat. You set down your things on the floor, trying to conceal the second lunch you made.

“...Glad to have you back, got everything?” Leslie asks.

You nod, jingling your keys.

She flicks her turn signal to the left and drives onto the road, turning right onto the main road.

The car is quiet, except for the radio playing old 80s hits, thick with the tension that you almost died the last time you went to work.

“You can work wherever you want today. Molly’s willing to work with your plans. I can imagine not wanting to do trail walks after, well, you know what.”

“I’ll be okay,” You say, ”I’ll do trails today. Not a problem.”

Leslie grips the steering wheel tight. “You’re sure? After you know what, I figured you would want to quit,” She turns left, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m okay.” You say, looking out the window.

Leslie makes some noise like she knows you’re lying. Your brush with death should have turned you off from any outdoorsy work, but here you are, making lunches for the thing that tried to rip you open like an orange. Maybe your too-empathetic and hopeful parts hope this sandwich helps them out. Everything you read about them was far from pleasant—Some of it didn’t seem real.

“A mixture of blood and hot tar poured into the eye sockets.” You recall.

This stuff about Eyeless Jack you read felt like fiction, but what you saw that night was real. God, it sends shivers down your spine, makes you feel ill—you don’t know what you would do if put in that scenario (blinded, abandoned, and left to die in the woods with an insatiable hunger for human flesh? Jack has been active for years, all alone, you think, you’re not sure how you would last even half as long).

“...Did they find anything?”

Leslie sighs. “No. But it’s an animal, so it’ll return next time it’s hungry. We’ve got more people on watch. Hopefully, we can get Wilderness Removal or Animal Control on it, maybe kill it if we have to.”

You hope not. Leave the critter that keeps eating people alone; they should just leave a plate of food out.

“Maybe don’t try to hunt down the wild critter-person like an animal.” You think. The rest of the ride is silent. You pull up to the park and see Molly chatting with a guest. She spots you looking out the window and waves, delighted to see you again.

“I wanted to give you this in case anyone tries giving you trouble.”

She passes you a black cylinder that’s roughly four inches tall. The button on top and the spray nozzle tells you it’s pepper spray.

“...Thanks, Leslie.”

“Anytime.”

You pull on your coat and leave your lunch in the fridge, taking the other out. Then, you jog over to your car and abandon the pepper spray in the cup holder; you hope that this choice won’t get you killed tonight, but you need to start on a good foot.

Your day-to-day rhythm comes back to you. You warmed yourself up on the more populated trails, picking up cans and directing folks about. It’s sparse, only seeing small groups unfazed by the recent killings (perhaps through ignorance or a belief that death is beneath them). The dread is heavier when you walk an empty trail that’s usually lively with people, even during the day, when dangers lurking in the bushes are more visible. As the sun creeps across the sky—and lower towards the horizon—fewer and fewer people choose to risk hiking after dark, lest they get disemboweled like the last guy who tried.

By 19:00, it’s empty. There’s nobody around other than you. But you know they’re still out there, listening to your every movement (and every breath and every hitch).

You scan the edge of the woods where they’re probably hiding, carefully stepping over the foliage while you intentionally stray from the carefully manicured path.

The trails are well-kept. The landscaping crew works diligently and takes pride in their work, keeping them free of debris and roots that would make the footpath a challenging terrain. Beyond the edges of the dirt roads, however, the forest is wild; vines writhe and twist along the floor, every plant fighting for sunlight in the undergrowth, with bigger-than-your-head leaves and trees wearing thick coats of creeping ivy. You witness the cycles of life and death within this delicate ecosystem—young trees climb higher and higher, growing larger and larger; insects feast upon the trees, rely on the trees, live and die by the trees; the trees, after centuries of life, die and rot; the lichen and insects feast on the rotting wood and refresh the cycle anew.

It makes you feel small and insignificant, as the world around you lives and dies without even noticing your existence. It’s like being surrounded by other people’s ideas in a museum, thousands of other people, forgotten by time, remembered by their art, or their shoes, or their stories through other people’s mouths.

Your boot slips on slick earth before you can continue your mental spiral about your insignificance as one among billions. Your boots squeal against pulpy mud and you nearly slip down into a strange recess; the earth is slick with that same slime, though it is more grainy and pus-like in texture. You follow the streaks in the muddy ground, where it slips underneath a large, rotten log.

You shine your light underneath, spotting a shivering, cobalt-blue mask underneath layers of jackets and stolen fabrics.

Maybe they’re sleeping, and waking them up (though with the promise of real people food) may upset them enough to maul you like a bear and eat you for lunch instead.

They shift and wiggle into the recess they carved out for themselves, hearing some shuffling outside of their burrowing. They suck in a deep breath through their nose, and the smell of human sears the insides of their lungs like smoke. They hunch a little bit, curling into a more upward sitting position, sniffing the air, inhaling once, twice, then a third time until they have that scent burned into their hindbrain. They can’t stop drooling, salivating at the thought of finally feeling okay again, having something to cut through the smoky, blurry feeling. They hear shuffling, their prey slinking back as they curled forward. They can’t suppress the growl that rumbles in their throat, teeth licked behind the mask. They don’t move like a person in preparation for a chase. Jack slips out of their nook, their body curled forward and arms hanging limp.

Jack reaches up and peels the mask like a second skin, revealing tar-filled sockets that bore down at your scent.

Jack lurches forward like they’re on a leash, sinking their claws into your arm and digging in, etching out five deep grooves, each weeping a stream of blood that makes Jack’s mind run wild. Without thinking entirely, Jack pulls your arm forward and sinks their teeth into your bicep, leaning their body weight against you, knocking you both to the floor. There’s kicking and screaming, high-pitched whining as Jack’s teeth tear through skin and sinew, coating your arm in blood and spit.

You cry out, trying to pull their steel trap of a jaw out of your arm—managing to loosen their upper jaw, and by shoving them away with the heel of your palm, you manage to rip out their lower jaw, too.

They shiver, licking their teeth over and over again. Feral, animalistic delight rattles their whole body; they’re giddy at the taste of your blood, but they hold some restraint at the sound of their name.

Your breathing is frantic, and your heart is hammering in your throat. Jack’s breathing slows, and they quit licking their teeth. You’re not sure where to start. You hold your breath as Jack’s tar-filled sockets bore down into yours. Their breathing is heavy, and there’s saliva dribbling down their chin. You squeeze your arm, your skin clammy with blood and sweat, while Jack stays still above you.

Your mouth is nailed and twisted shut like you’re at the morgue. Jack doesn’t finch as they, strangely again, don’t tear you to shreds like the last guy. You sigh, which comes out as an exasperated laugh, your chest squirming like a bucket of mealworms as Jack’s warm, blood-soaked breath enters your nose. Their hair is long and matted, greasy and cool-brown in color; their skin is a deep gray like the living dead, bulked up by layers of stolen sweaters and pants to keep warm.

“I, uhh…” You start, “I brought you a sandwich if you want it. I didn't know what you liked, so I just put a little bit of ever—”

Jack’s knee presses into your ribcage as they climb over you, feeling around on the ground for your bag. A wheeze rattles from your throat, and they dump your belongings onto the forest floor unceremoniously, sniffing the contents like a tracker hound.

They pinch the bag between their claws, disemboweling the brown paper bag, the contents hitting the floor with a wet thud.

You watch them eat, tearing through plastic and paper with their teeth, eating with no sensibility nor dignity. The sandwich is shoved into their mouth and swallowed in about fifteen seconds, and a crushed bag of potato chips you forgot at the bottom of your bag perishes, too. They crack open the plastic container full of your dinner and hesitate, neck craned in your direction. It takes a few moments to find them, but Jack finds the metal utensils you packed for yourself, showing the container to you.

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s mine. My dinner, I mean. You can have it if you want.”

They shake their head in a fit.

They push it in your direction, a flatly affective expression on the remainder of their face, but their body language pushes your cold leftovers on you with a lot of force. You gingerly take the container from their claws, crack it open, and eat. Jack listens attentively to you, sockets trained on you, on the sound of metal utensils clinking against your mouth, the sound of you swallowing your meal. Their hands squirm and play with the dirt and leaves, excited to share a meal of leftovers with somebody they nearly killed twice. Your arm is throbbing as you carefully feed yourself, your jacket’s sleeve shredded. Hopefully, your emergency fund can cover a trip to the hospital for however many stitches you’ll need, as well as the antibiotics you’ll be taking (or paying for amputation if this gets infected, but you try not to think about that as this demonic forest creature is enraptured by you eating supper with them). You scrape the bottom of the container, not missing a single morsel.

They move their hand under their chin, and you recognize what Jack is doing. You took a few classes in uni, so you pick up on the ASL as soon as their hand collides with the other in a neat thank you.

“Oh! You’re welcome,” You say, “Was it good? I was worried if you liked mayo or not.”

They grin. It’s small, subtle, and hard to do with the tar seared to their skin, but there’s a quiet peek of teeth as they chuckle at being understood. They like mayo.

You laugh, too, exhausted and relieved. After so many restless nights worrying about getting your organs surgically removed in your sleep, you’re looking forward to a restful night after the day you’ve had. At the hospital, because you’re arm is looking pretty ugly.

“Look, I think I have to go.”

They tense up.

“I won’t tell anyone about you, I promise,” You sigh, trying not to look down at your bloody limb, “They’re still looking for you, though, so be careful. If you need food, I can try to sneak you some from Lost & Found.”

Jack pats at their pocket, pulling out an old, beat-up phone. They pass it to you, and you type out your number and put it into a contact.

“I’ll, hopefully, see you soon?”

They shrug. It’s probably for the best that they don’t make any promises. Jack walks into the treeline, eventually disappearing from view.

#can also be read as: domesticating the feral they/them at your job #mewrites #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta eyeless jack #creepypasta fanfic #fanfiction #creepypasta #mecreepy #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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into-deepspace · 3 days

Note

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

May I request for Rafayel's reaction when MC comes out as non-binary? It's something that's never left my head since I started playing lnds. I can't help but worry if it'd change things for him even though I know it won't (insecurity did a number on me🥹). What if MC wanted to present themes as masc/femme? How would he react?

Sorry if this is too long and complicated and I understand if you don't want to write for this but if you do write it it'd mean the world to me. Thank you for reading this ask🌸🌸

aaa of course!!! dw it wasn't long or complicated at all! i had a lot of fun writing this, and i rlly hope i did rafayel justice here <33 i feel like it ended awkwardly but ah what can u do. anywayyyy:

as you are

rafayel/mc • nonbinary mc • 1.6k • ao3 link requests open, reblogs appreciated! mild hurt/comfort || coming out || tooth-rotting fluff || established relationship

MC stares at themselves in the mirror fixing their hair nervously. In twenty minutes, they’re meeting Rafayel at a cafe, one of their favourites. They’d made the plans several days ago, and have been nervously thinking through every possibility ever since. After all, coming out, no matter who it’s to, is nerve wracking.

“I need to talk to you,” they’d sent him, late in the evening when both of them really should have been asleep. Despite the late hour, typing bubbles immediately popped up from Rafayel’s end. He sends a sticker of a distressed yellow bird, then a message.

Rafayel, 11:48 PM are u breaking up with me :(

A bit frantic, MC typed back a quick response. Of course Rafayel, ever dramatic, would assume the worst.

MC, 11:48 PM No omg?

Rafayel, 11:48 PM DUN SCARE ME LIKE THAT THEN???? Those are FIGHTING WORDS. fighting words i tell u!!

MC sighed, but couldn't help but laugh a bit. It was never a dull moment with him around, one of the things they have always loved about him. They explained that no, they're not breaking up with him, but they did have something a little more serious they needed to talk with him about.

Rafayel, 12:03 AM okayyyy spill the beans cutie wait no serious I Am Prepared To Listen To Your Words. Please Begin.

MC, 12:04 AM Actually, i wanted to talk in person Can we meet @ our usual cafe on saturday

They waited nervously for Rafayel's response, picking at a stray thread in their blanket. But as usual, they had nothing to worry about

Rafayel, 12:05 AM ofc ofc ill buy u a tea and a cake and we can talk <3

They couldn't help but smile at their phone. He was always so sweet, so ready to adjust and accommodate. They just hope he’ll be the same way about this new revelation.

Now, MC has been going by their chosen name for a long while, so long that most people don’t even know the name they were given at birth. They’ve always presented a little more [femme/masc] than their peers, and Rafayel didn’t seem to mind any of that. If anything, he encouraged it, saying that the way they expressed themselves was art in it of itself. But would this, their coming out, be a piece of the puzzle that he wasn’t okay with?

MC sighs, smoothing their clothes one last time and telling themselves that they really do need to get going. Sitting here and stewing in their anxieties isn’t going to make anything better. They grab their bike helmet and make their way down to the street, setting off.

An uneventful drive later, they arrive at the cafe and park, fixing their hair in their phone camera after they take their helmet off. It seems Rafayel hasn’t arrived yet, which means they can go in and order for themselves. Usually, they’re fine with Rafayel paying for their treats, but what if he’s upset this time? What if he realizes he’s spent money on someone he can’t accept.

Just as they’re pulling their card from their wallet to pay for their drink and pastry, an arm wraps around their waist and lips press against their cheek, startling them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafayel says, tone light and joking as he slips their wallet from their hands, tucking it back into their pocket. Ignoring their protests, he turns to the person at the register. “Add a vanilla iced coffee to that please, with… hm, six sugars.” MC can only watch as his drink is added to the total and he slots his card into the reader, looking pleased with himself.

Rafayel takes their hand and walks them over to a table by the window, pulling out their chair for them with a dramatic flourish. Normally, MC would laugh at his antics, but they’re too nervous right now to manage anything more than a tight smile. Rafayel, of course, notices right away.

“What’s wrong, cutie?” he asks, taking their hands as he kneels in front of their chair. MC takes a shaky breath, trying to school their expression into something at least neutral.

“I’m okay,” they say. “I promise.” For a moment, Rafayel tilts his head and searches their face. Then, with a sigh, he stands, pressing a kiss to their knuckles as he does.

“Okay,” he smiles. “We’ll talk once you’ve got something tasty to keep you company, okay?” This prompts a smile, a little more real this time, from MC.

“Okay,” they whisper.

Ever the gentleman, Rafayel goes to retrieve their order, tasting his own drink before adding two more pumps of sugary syrup to it and sprinkling cinnamon across the top. He comes back to their table, setting MC’s portion in front of them. They taste their own drink and nod in satisfaction, cutting a piece of their pastry to place into their mouth.

“Do you want some?” they ask, offering a forkful to Rafayel. With an easy smile, he waves away their question.

“Nah,” he says. “This here is sweet enough.” He shakes his drink, the ice in it rattling as specks of cinnamon swirl around. MC nods, taking the bite for themselves.

They let themselves savor the moment for a bit before speaking. After all, they don’t know if this is something they’ll ever have again. They make their way about halfway through the pastry before they take another long sip of their drink and fold their hands in their lap.

“I have something I need to tell you,” they say, before they can lose their resolve. “...Please don’t be upset with me.” Rafayel smiles, reaching across the table with his palm up, gesturing for their hand. MC obliges, tangling their fingers together, and Rafayel squeezes reassuringly.

“I won’t be,” he promises. “You can tell me anything. I swear.”

MC takes a deep breath. They appreciate that he’s putting his usual jokes and quips aside, sensing the nervous gravity of the moment, but it almost makes them even more anxious. Biting their lip, MC decides it’s better to rip the metaphorical band-aid off in one go.

“I’m nonbinary,” they say simply. “And I’m sorry I’ve been keeping this from you.”

Rafayel blinks for a moment, silent. MC feels their eyes sting.

“What?”

“Uh.” Out of all the scenarios they’d mentally prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. “You know,” they begin, “like, I’m not a guy, but I’m also not a girl. It’s-”

“No, I know what nonbinary means, silly,” Rafayel grins. “Why would you ever think I’d be upset at you over this?” MC feels the sting in their eyes become welling moisture, and Rafayel scrambles to drag his chair around to their side of the table and pull them into a tight embrace.

“I thought you were gonna tell me that you were moving away, or that you lost your job or something!” he says, rocking them back and forth, gently, slowly. With a shaky breath, MC tucks their face into Rafayel’s shoulder, smiling to themselves. But he’s not done, continuing as he pulls them tighter.

“And if you come to me tomorrow and say you feel some other way, or that you want to change your name or buy new clothes or change your hair, that’s okay! MC, I love you no matter what. I promise, something like this is never ever going to come between me and you.” They’re full on sobbing now, the relief that comes with acceptance and the lovely promises spilling from Rafayel’s lips making all sorts of emotions surge in their chest.

Rafayel pulls back, cupping their face with one hand and wiping their tears away with the other. He smiles, a radiant and loving thing, and MC can’t help but give a breathy, relieved laugh as he leans in to place light little kisses along their cheeks.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” MC admits. “You never did anything to make me worried about this.” Rafayel shrugs.

“It’s a big thing to tell someone,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I know this took a lot.”

“It really did,” MC acknowledges. Rafayel ruffles their hair affectionately before scooting his chair back over to his side, keeping one of MC’s hands in his own.

“Okay, okay,” he says, buzzing with energy now that the serious moment is waning. “Finish your pastry and then we can go shopping.” MC blinks, surprised.

“We weren’t planning on going-”

“Uh-uh!” Rafayel cuts in, waving a hand in their face and startling a laugh from them. “Shhhh, we’re going shopping. You wanna go buy pretty things with me soooo bad. You would never think of saying no to this lovely face of mine.”

“Oh, my god,” MC laughs, nearly dropping their fork. “You’re so dramatic.” In response, Rafayel gives a pleased smile and makes a motion as if flicking hair behind his shoulder. MC shakes their head good naturedly, taking another bite of their pastry.

They do, in fact, end up out in the shops, and Rayafel buys them a jacket they’ve been eyeing for a long while. The two of them swing their intertwined hands between them as they walk, enjoying each others’ presence. It’s late in the evening by the time they decide to part ways, and even then, Rafayel convinces MC to sleep over at his house.

A couple hours later, laying in bed, MC watches Rafayel’s sleeping face with a soft smile. They never thought they’d be lucky enough for a relationship like this.

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #requested fic #rafayel x mc #nonbinary mc #l&ds #rafayel l&ds #rafayel qi #rafayel x reader #requests open #jay's writing!#this was so so so fun to write eeeeee!!!!!

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super-ion · 9 days

Text

The Voyages of the Padua

Chapter 2

(prev)

“Oh… I don't think we're in Kansas any more,” she whispered.

The assembly area, predictably, had been vacant when she arrived. There wasn't even any apparent helpful signage about where the hell she was supposed to go next.

What she did find was a viewport that took up a considerable section of one of the walls. What let beyond took her breath away.

The planet was massive. She supposed it was likely near the upper end of what a planet could be, but the Eosphorus was close enough to really drive home just how big it was. Striations of milky brown and white clouds churned below, filling the viewport so completely that she had to press her face against the plex and crane her neck awkwardly to even see the horizon and black space beyond.

It reminded her of milk poured into coffee, right before it got all mixed up.

Was the ship supposed to be this close? Was that why the evacuation alarms were screaming incessantly? She had some vague half recollections of gravity gradients and radiation belts and assorted other general perils of gas giants.

She concluded that it was more than likely not safe to be so close. Weren't there supposed to be navigational fail-safes to prevent this sort of thing?

Well... clearly they had not failed safe.

At least the orbit seemed stable as far as she could tell. She imagined the ship would be doing a lot more screaming and burning and just general dying if that were the case.

Even if she did locate any escape pods or shuttles or anything, what good would they do? She would just be caught in the same gravity well in something a lot smaller and probably less safe in the medium to long run.

But the ship's alarm *was* telling her to evacuate.

Why would a ship lie to a person?

Was she even a person? She thought she was, but she was also starting from first principles, so she couldn't rule out any possibilities.

Her thoughts were getting away from her once more.

Was she always this anxious or was it just all the stims the auto injector had pumped her full of?

“Focus,” she told herself. “We'll figure this out… everything is going to be fine. We'll just…”

Her eyes caught on something she had missed before. There, right at the edge of the viewport's field of view was a ship and a long docking tunnel linking it to the Eosphorus.

It was an ungainly, ugly looking thing, all bulbous protrusions and long spindly spars of comm arrays and whatnot. It looked to be the kind of deathtrap that was always romanticized in the entertainment vids, the kind held together by duct tape and a prayer and somehow simultaneously the most reliable thing out in the black.

Her stimmed up brain, still screaming at her to survive by any means, recognized it as a ticket out of here. Before she could really even think, she found herself jogging towards that one tenuous hope.

The anxiety came next.

How was this even supposed to work? Was she supposed to waltz up to whoever it was and just say, “hey my ship says it's about to die and I don't even know my own name, can I come with you pretty please?”

What if they weren't friendly? What if they were pirates or marauders? What if they said no?

Well, then she wouldn't be any worse off than she was now, would she?

Her mind immediately provided several possible scenarios which were considerably worse than the one she currently found herself in.

She didn't get far down the corridor before the sound of voices brought her to a skidding stop. Somewhere up ahead, at one of the cross corridors, someone was having a conversation.

(With the same detached awareness that had been cataloging details about herself, she noted that she could not remember ever hearing another human being speak)

“...said essentials,” said the voice, dripping with sarcasm. “So that's exactly what I was doing.”

“I didn't mean for you to raid the pantry,” snapped another voice. It was distant, distorted, filtered through a radio.

“I was requisitioning vital supplies,” the first voice argued back. “You don't eat, so you don't understand my nutritional requirements.”

“Tre, just shut down the alarm. You can steal as much food as you want after you do what I'm paying you to do.”

“Already done,” the second voice replied snarkily.

The evacuation alarm cut off abruptly, leaving the ship in deafening silence.

“Thank you,” the second voice drawled. “Now, I want a full catalog of everything on the ship, focus on-”

“Captain! Mina's got something!”

“Elaborate please.”

“Yeah… she's… hey, slow down! That's too fast!”

A pause.

Was there someone else with the first speaker? Communicating by some non-audible means?

“Okay… um… the alarms cut off and she… she hears a heart beat… oh fuck, I think there's somebody here.”

Hears a heartbeat? That wasn't normal, was it? People don't normally hear heartbeats at this distance?

“What do you mean, ‘there's somebody here’? We did a full sensor sweep before docking and it came up empty.”

“Yeah well, Mina smells them, so clearly the scan missed something.”

Smell…

Oh… they were talking about her, weren't they?

She suddenly felt significantly more apprehensive about the potential of interacting with these people. What if they *were* pirates and/or marauders?

“Okay,” the voice on the radio said with calm authority. “Just stay calm and stay put. I'm in one of the forward cargo bays right now, I'll head back your way.”

“Yeah, stay calm. I can stay calm on the haunted fucking ghost ship.”

“Mina, please tell them to calm down. I'll be there in five.”

She didn't know what to do. Did she really think she could say hello to these people? If they were even people?

It seemed like less and less of a good idea to talk to them.

She took a step back and her hip bumped something. She turned just in time to see a tool box, previously sitting abandoned on a crate, tumble to the floor. Wrenches and screwdrivers and a gamut of other tools she didn't know the name of hit the ground with a thunderous crash.

Somebody screamed. She wasn't sure if it was her or the person in the room ahead. Maybe both?

She stared at the spilled tools in numb horror. Well, if there had been any lingering doubt that anybody knew she was there, it had certainly been erased.

A moment later, she heard a hushed voice replying to something she couldn't hear.

“Hell no, I'm not going out there.”

A pause. Yes, she was definitely missing half of this conversation.

“No, you totally can. This is extenuating circumstances.”

Another pause.

“No, you… why? Because I'm small and fragile, damnit. I'm a salvage access specialist, not some fearless space explorer from one of your trashy romances. I'm not equipped to deal with crazed maniacs on abandoned starships.”

Crazed maniac?

“Please just take a look and see if it's safe? Pleeeeease.”

She scrabbled at the floor, searching for the biggest wrench she could find. Everything was fine, perfectly fine, she just needed something to hold… just in case. Her fingers closed around cool metal. There, a nice big one with plenty of heft to it.

This was fine, totally…

Everything was not fine.

The thing that stepped out into the hallway was not human. Sure, it was roughly human shaped, it was even wearing slightly modified human clothes. But it was as if someone took a human and stretched them out. It hunched slightly in the corridor, its head almost brushing the ceiling.

That in itself was not particularly strange as far as she could tell. No, it was the too long fingers that ended in sharp claws, the bony tail that whipped anxiously behind it, the digitigrade feet that ended in toes with even more claws.

The face was nearly human, but strange enough to set off all sorts of alarms in her stimmed up limbic system. Large eyes, entirely black scanned the corridor while large pointed ears twitched, also scanning. It sniffed cautiously at the air.

When it saw her, it went completely still. She had the distinct impression of a predator catching sight of its prey… a fox sighting a rabbit. And she was the rabbit.

She dared not move, her fight or flight response stuck solidly in freeze.

The tenseness of the encounter was shattered by a loud tone over the ship's announcement system.

“WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL DETECTED ON BOARD. PLEASE SHELTER IN PLACE WHILE SECURITY COUNTERMEASURES ARE DEPLOYED.”

“Tre!” shouted the voice on the radio. “What the hell did you do!?”

“I didn't do it!” the person still cowering in the side corridor shouted back. “There's an external party-”

She didn't catch the rest of the conversation. The… whatever-it-was was distracted by the back and forth over the radio and she saw her opportunity. She bolted as fast as she could in the direction most away from the creature.

Was she being rational? Probably not. She just needed to run. Survive survive survive survive

She didn't even know what survive meant at this point. The quiet rational party of her brain recognized that she was reaching the early stages of the crash.

She was so caught up in her prey animal instincts that she nearly careened into a figure as she blindly rounded a corner. She came to a wheeling stop as her addled brain tried to make sense of the sight in front of her.

They weren't human. But they also weren't creatures. The two figures were spindly looking androids. They regarded her with blank faceplates of black plex that faded to transparent over glowing red lights that ringed an optical sensor.

Where the hell had they come from?

Then she noticed the Eosphorus mission patch or logo or whatever it was on their chassis.

And then she noticed the clunky pistols they had trained directly on her.

Ah. Security countermeasures. This stupid ship could afford to have security bots, but not helper bots to assist amnesiac cryo sleepers. Typical.

“UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL IDENTIFIED. SURRENDER TO SECURITY OR NON LETHAL FORCE WILL BE EMPLOYED.”

Unauthorized personnel? She looked over her shoulder, but she was completely alone.

Oh, it was her. She was unauthorized. That was good to know.

#my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #scifi #original fiction #original characters #science fiction #the voyages of the padua

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