fleshmaggot

[submattsmxmmy]

Dead dove: do not eat 💖 Hiii, it's @ariestrxsh and this is my secondary account. Here is my contribution to kinktober. I know the Ghostface trope has been done so many times, but I figured it would still be a fun little smut to write in honor of Halloween.

👻🎀 content warning: smut, degradation, predator/prey dynamic, restraints, knife play, blood play, ghostface!matt, ghostface!chris, slutty!reader

👻🎀 author's note: idk if this would be considered a dead dove: do not eat fic, but it certainly contains some rather dark material, so i'd rather label it that way to be safe. also, my reader's slutty nun outfit may offend you if you're religious, so please scroll and don't read if it's going to upset you.

👻🎀 summary: you're throwing a halloween party at your house in a remote area. the night becomes like a thrilling, real-life horror movie after your friends, matt and chris both show up dressed as the infamous ghostface.

masquerade

"What are you guys going as tonight?" You asked Nick, Matt, and Chris as the four of you aimlessly wandered around the Halloween store that was littered with all the decor you could dream of for the party you were throwing later. You'd done most of your holiday shopping a few weeks prior, but you just needed a few final touches to complete the vibe you were going for.

"I'm going as Stu Macher," Nick responded, fiddling with some tacky Halloween decoration. "I'm going as Ghostface," Chris confidently replied, and your gaze softened as you pictured him in one of those sexy masks.

"Hey, what the fuck, Chris? I'm going as Ghostface," Matt slugged Chris in the arm. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips fell open as you pictured them both in the Ghostface costume. "Relax. That'll make it more fun. Then no one will know who's who," Chris smirked. "People already have a hard time telling us apart," Matt rolled his eyes.

"What are you going as?" Nick asked you, ignoring his brothers. "Well, I'm going to be the only one out of the four of us who isn't going as a Scream character. But it's going to be a surprise," you told them, wandering over towards a giant cauldron that caught your eye.

"What are you going to use that for?" Matt asked. "Punch bowl! Isn't it perfect?" You asked, picking it up and cradling it in your arms as the four of you continued through the store. "Can you at least give us a hint about what you're going to dress up as?" Chris playfully poked you in the side.

"All I can tell you is, it's gonna be sexy, and you're gonna thank God when you see me in it. I'm trying to get laid tonight," you proudly stated as the four of you headed over to the checkout counter to pay.

Nick, Matt, and Chris dropped you back off at your place, which was out in the middle of nowhere, so you could finish setting up, and so they could change into their costumes. You thought it was fitting you lived in a secluded part of your town's national forest and didn't have any neighbors for miles.

You'd just finished putting out the last of the decorum when people started trickling in. You had fake spiderwebs strewn in every corner, a smoke machine, and a black light.

You were just thinking about how excited you were for the boys to see you in your glowing slutty nun outfit when the doorbell rang, and as you pulled open your creaky front door, you saw Nick covered in fake blood accompanied by a pair of Ghostfaces, the whites of their masks lit up by the black light. "Look at you!" Nick gasped as you gave them a twirl. Chris and Matt's eyes were immediately drawn to your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me!" You jokingly shrieked, placing your hands on your cheeks and making a fake surprised face. "You look really good," one of them said to you. "So do you guys," you seductively replied, nibbling on your lower lip and looking at the three of them, but especially Matt and Chris. You had a bit of a thing for masked men.

They shuffled into your house, admiring the way you had decorated. More guests started arriving, and the party started to really take off. Nick started hitting it off with a guy you worked with who was dressed as a skeleton, which left you, Matt, and Chris alone.

"You guys wanna scare Nick tonight?" Matt asked menacingly, tilting his head in his ghostface mask, which had no business being as hot as it was. You bit your lip at him.

Chris could tell you were entranced by the costume. "Like the mask, sweetheart?" Chris asked in a deep, menacingly voice that was strikingly familiar to that of the original Ghostface, taking his 'prop' weapon and running the edge along your cheek, but the metal was sharp and cold. "Shut the fuck up. Oh my god, is that a real knife?" You asked him, staring wide-eyed at it.

"Yeah, why does that scare you? Or do you like it?" Chris said in a spooky voice. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Neither. You guys are so immature. Have fun scaring Nick. I'm gonna go enjoy my party and try to find someone to hook up with. Try not to cut anyone with that thing."

You rolled your eyes at them and pushed past them, trying to hide the effect they were having on you. Both sets of eyes traveled to your ass as you walked away. "Why don't we play a prank on her instead?" Matt inquired. "Yeah, she could use a little loosening up," Chris responded.

You couldn't deny that the way Chris had put that blade up to your cheek while he was dressed like that was having a rather strong effect on you, an effect so strong that you desperately wanted to turn back around, grab them by their solid black robes, and beg them both to rail you while they wore their Ghostface attire.

You'd always found them both attractive, but they were your good friends, and most nights that the sexual thoughts about them creeped into your psyche, you were able to will it away, or something you'd never admit out loud to - sometimes you'd just take care of the aching between your legs really quickly, and the thoughts would usually dissipate on their own, but tonight was different.

You could feel a damp warmth between your thighs as you sauntered off in another direction to greet some of your other friends, but even as you asked them how the party was and tried to get your mind off of the Sturniolo boys, you found yourself peeking over your shoulder, stealing glances at them, and losing your inner battle with yourself to fight off your urges.

It had been so long, and you were so horny.

"I think that guy over there is checking you out," your friend who had animals ears on nudged you and glanced off in the direction of the punch bowl you'd bought earlier. Your eye caught a tall man with zombie makeup on that you didn't recognize grabbing himself a cup of spiked punch, his gaze flicking up at you every few seconds. You thought he was kind of cute.

"Go talk to him," your friend urged you, lovingly squeezing your arm. You took one more glance in the direction of where Matt and Chris had been standing just moments ago, seriously considering trying to pursue one of them instead, but when your eyes scanned over the crowd, you didn't see either one of them. You'd missed your chance.

"Okay, fine," you whispered to your friend, rolling your eyes and working up the courage to approach him. You took a deep breath and headed in his direction.

"Hey, do I know you?" You asked, grabbing yourself a red solo cup and serving yourself some alcoholic punch. "You know, some would say your costume is offensive," he said, ignoring your question and motioning towards your exposed breasts in your very ungodly outfit.

"Then why don't you rip it off of me?" You flirtatiously shot back. He looked unamused with you.

"Hey, so, what's the deal with your friend?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink and his gaze looking past you to where you were previously standing. "Oh, my friend," you said in a slightly disappointed tone, realizing you'd just approached and been very forward with a man who had been interested in the girl standing next to you the whole time.

You started back off in the direction you came from, and your friend glanced over at the embarrassment in your expression. "What happened? Was he a dick to you?" She asked, concern in her eyes while she cradled your face. You could understand why he was looking at her instead of you.

"No, nothing like that. If you think he's cute, you should go talk to him. I'll be right back," you responded, feeling your face get hot. You pushed past a crowd of people to get to the bottom of your staircase, and you hurried up the steps before your tears could fall.

It wasn't so much that you were upset about not getting the guy. You weren't even that interested in him. It was a combination of a few things, really.

It was the humiliation of misreading the situation, the insecurity you felt about not being as pretty as your friends, and the constant self-doubt you had about whether you really were a slut like everyone called you and if any guy would ever want you again because of it.

Through your teary vision, your bedroom door caught your eye. You stopped dead in your tracks, sniffling and wiping away your tears as alarm bells went off in your nervous system.

Your bedroom door was wide open, and you swore you'd shut it before the first few guests had arrived. You walked through the door frame cautiously, overwhelmed by a sensation of having eyes on you, studying your surroundings to see if anything else was out of place.

You shrugged off the feeling of being watched, chalking it up to the fact that it was Halloween, and you had been watching a lot of thriller and horror movies in the couple weeks leading up to your party.

You made your way over to the bathroom sink, setting down your red solo cup on the cold countertop and peering at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't want to spend Halloween night sulking in your bathroom while your two hot best friends were downstairs, strutting around in their sexy Ghostface attire and probably finding other girls to sleep with.

You cleaned off the eyeliner that was smudging on your bottom eyelid, glued the corner of your eyelash back down, and readjusted your breasts in your costume.

After fixing the imperfections with your wardrobe, you decided you weren't going to let the night end without taking a stab at trying to have sex with whichever one of the Sturniolo brothers you saw first, excluding Nick of course. You were done pretending like you weren't completely taken with them.

Your gaze flickered over to the reflection of your partially open closet door in the mirror. Again, you could have sworn you'd left it closed. Filled with dread, you slowly tiptoed out of the bathroom, past your bed, and over to your closet. You rested your hand on the round, metal door knob and slowly pushed it shut.

You realized how ridiculous you were being, rolling your eyes at yourself and letting out a sigh at how jumpy you'd been lately. You turned back around and started to head out of your bedroom when all of a sudden, you heard the sound of the closet door creaking open again.

Before you could spin yourself around and identify the threat, you felt a gloved hand cover your mouth and a cold, sharp blade resting against your neck. "What's your favorite scary movie?" The way his voice came through sounding just like Ghostface had you both scared and turned on.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out an audible moan against his palm, causing him to pull his hand back. "What was that?" Chris accusingly asked, speaking like himself again. "What the fuck? How do you make your voice sound like that?" You asked in a shaky voice.

He chuckled in your ear, avoiding your inquiry. "Answer me first. What was that sound you just made?" Chris posed the question again. "Nothing. Real funny, Chris. Let me go," you responded.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your eye as Matt walked around in his Ghostface costume, shutting your bedroom door closed. Your heart dropped as you watched him lock it and make his way back over to you. "Let you go? Are you sure you want that?" Matt cooed, running the back of his gloved hand along your cheek and tilting his head down at you. You gulped.

"Is this turning you on?" Chris whispered into your ear. "Gross," you rolled your eyes. "Only one way to find out," Matt menacingly replied. "Why don't you check her, Matt?" Chris smirked under his mask.

Your mouth fell open, and a strangled whimper came through as Matt reached between your legs, lifting up your skirt and slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Immediately, he felt the wetness leak through his glove.

"Oh, she's soaked. Her clit practically has its own heartbeat," Matt relayed to his brother, drawing circles on it with his fingers and talking about you as if you weren't in the room with them. "I bet she'd like it if we took care of that. Don't you think?" Chris wondered, dragging the blade across your collar bone and between your partially exposed breasts.

You couldn't hold back your delighted sounds as they both put their hands on you. It was like a dream come true. Your prayers had been answered. You'd fantasized about them each separately, but the idea of having them both take you on at the same time didn't even seem like an option until now.

"What's turning you on so much? The mask? The knife? The fact that it's me and Matt?" Chris cooed at you, pulling your top down to reveal your tits. He took the knife and started running the sharp edge against your nipples that stiffened at the touch. You immediately shuddered and let out a whimper.

"All of it?" Matt wondered, continuing to play with your pussy that was becoming wetter by the second. "Answer him, slut. What's got you all wet, hmm?" Chris growled into your ear. Of course, it hurt your feelings to be called that, but there was something about the way Chris said it so endearingly that it didn't seem like he was trying to do anything other than turn you on, and it was working.

"Nothing, it's completely unrelated," you lied, biting your lip to hold back another moan, but your attempts failed, and your head fell back against Chris' chest. You felt his hard cock against your backside, and it twitched at the way you struggled to keep yourself composed. "Yeah, mine's unrelated, too," Chris replied sarcastically, staring down at your tits as he continued to tease them with his knife.

You felt Matt's fingers slip into your hole as he started to fuck you with them. "You want us to stop?" Matt asked. You nibbled on your lip and softly shook your head no. "That's what I thought. She's such a little slut," Chris said to his brother. "Don't you know it's always the slut who dies first?" Chris rasped into your ear.

"Oh, she likes that," Matt cooed, feeling your pussy start to throb around his fingers. You tried to hide your reactions, but your body language couldn't keep your secret from the two pairs of Ghostfaces who manhandled you.

"You still never told us your favorite scary movie," Chris pointed out. "Blair Witch Project," you hesitantly answered. "Mmm. That's a scary one. Especially when you live out here," Matt replied. Chris leaned over to Matt and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't quite make out.

"Lay on the fucking bed, slut," Chris responded as they both let you go. "We're gonna go have a little chat in the other room, and you're gonna lay right here and behave," Matt ordered you. "And if you try to run, you're gonna be really sorry," Chris said, waving the knife in your direction.

They both disappeared behind your bathroom door. You heard the sound of Chris and Matt arguing behind the wooden barrier about who was going to have their way with you first, but you had another idea.

When they both emerged from the bathroom, you were gone, and on your nightstand was a note that read: "come find me in the woods, mr. ghostface. xoxo, your prey" with a heart drawn below the lettering.

"Oh, that sneaky bitch thinks she can be in charge of her own fate. We're gonna have fun with her tonight," Chris told Matt as he picked up the note.

They both disappeared out of the room, down the stairs, and out the backdoor towards the dense treeline behind your house with a flashlight Matt had snagged off your kitchen counter.

All they had to do was listen quietly for a few minutes beneath the blanket of stars and clouds, and then they heard you, crushing twigs and leaves under your weight as you tried to stealthily make your way through the forest.

All of a sudden, you were lit up by the flashlight Matt held in hands. "Gotcha," he said in a menacing voice. You froze and stared at them both, unable to move a muscle. "Think you're so slick, huh?" Chris asked in a low, sexy rasp.

"You know what would make this so much more fun? If she had to guess who's who while we take turns fucking her," Matt suggested, taking a few steps towards you. "And if she guesses wrong, we'll make her bleed," Chris laughed, closing in on you as well.

You'd never seen this side of the two brothers, but it excited you more than you were willing to admit.

You started slowly walking backward until you backed into a tree, and you swallowed hard as you felt its rough trunk under your palms, realizing you didn't have anywhere to go.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Spare me!" You whined, but you couldn't hold back your smirk as Matt pulled the knife out of his robe and cut your costume from your body. You gasped as the fabric fell the floor in front of your feet. You'd never imagined your night would go like this. In fact, this was hotter than anything you could have ever dreamt up.

"We told you that you'd regret running." It was that same ominous, threatening, and sexy voice that Chris had used earlier in the night, so that must have been him. "I thought we told you to behave," said the other, sounding just like the first one. Fuck, you thought.

You watched as the boy with the knife started to cut a hole in his robe, and your eyes widened, and your jaw fell open as you realized what he was doing. You watched as his dick poked through the black fabric, staring you down. He handed off the knife to his brother.

"Since you like to run, one of us is going to have to hold you still," the second one said pinning your wrists above your head with one hand with the other, he held the blade up in front of your face. You saw yourself in the reflection of the sharp metal accompanied by the man in the Ghostface mask beside you, and it sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He closed the distance between the weapon and your breasts, and he started tracing your nipples again with the knife's edge. Your chest rose and fell as your breath quickened. You peered at the boy who was settling between your legs, grabbing ahold of his big, veiny cock with his gloved hand as he started pumping it back and forth a few times, making sure it had reached its full potential.

He hiked up your leg, wrapped your thigh around his waist, and pulled your panties to the side before sinking it into your heat and stretching you out. "So tight," he groaned deeply, feeling the way you gripped his dick. You let out a few loud moans as you adjusted to his size, taking every inch of him.

"That's it. Take it like the slut you are," he gruffed, picking up the pace and wrapping his gloved fingers around your neck. "Like that?" The boy who was holding your wrists cooed as he dragged the sharp object across to your other peak.

You loved the way both Ghostface masks reflected your fear back at you as well as your pleasure, their empty eyes, and their contorted mouths, taunting you. You glanced back at the brother who was between your legs, focusing on his thrusts. His fast and powerful thrusts.

Every time he bottomed out in you, a desperate mewl escaped your lips, filling the atmosphere. The masked man started to mimick the sounds that poured from your mouth while his brother fucked you, and you adored every second of it.

You loved the way they were feeding your sick fantasies, holding you at knife point, wearing their sexy costumes, and fucking you dumb while they degraded you. Your sounds became louder, more urgent, and less inhibited. You could feel the intensity building.

"Scream for me, bitch," the man between your legs chuckled. His mean words, his hand around your throat, the movement of his hips, and the cold, sharp metal dancing across your skin were enough to cause you to snap.

You hit the point of no return, clenching around the mystery man's rod, sending him to the same fate shortly after. You could feel his twitching cock filling you up as your orgasm took its course, the two of you moaning in unison while you finished together. Your legs grew weak as you came.

"Oh my god, Chris. Matt. Whoever you are," you breathlessly panted. You thought for sure you'd be able to tell them apart by now, but you had no idea, and you found it all the more enticing.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, slowing down his thrusts, pulling out, and watching his seed flow out of you. He stared down in awe at the mess he made, taking in the sight and savoring it while his breathing pattern returned to normal.

"I've been waiting for this," the boy to your left said as he switched places with his brother. He took the knife, hooking it into your panties and slicing the delicate material, watching the fabric fall to the ground and revealing your pretty pussy to him.

Then he cut a hole in his robe like his brother had done, and you peered down at his gorgeous cock poking through the tear in the material.

He roughly pried open your legs, guiding them open with the blade. He dug into the inside of your right thigh with his gloved hand and rested the knife on your lower stomach. You couldn't keep yourself from admiring his big, throbbing dick, and you sharply inhaled as you felt him slip his tip into your entrance.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he bucked his hips forward, his entire length vanisihing into your tight hole. Your eyes flicked back up to his Ghostface attire, taking in the incredible view of being fucked by a man in such a sexy mask.

The man beside you restrained your wrists, pinning them above your head again. "Alright. Time to guess. Who am I?" The boy beside you asked in his creepy Ghostface voice, tilting his head at you as he tightened his grip. You innocently peered up at his mask, searching for some kind of hint in his demeanor.

"Chris, is that you?" You asked uncertaintly. "Wrong. Remember what happens when you guess wrong?" Matt cooed, running his gloved finger along the underside of your chin. Your eyes were glazing over, your lips fell open, and your cheeks were flushed.

Chris applied more pressure to the knife, running the blade along your lower stomach and drawing blood. You let out a satisfied whine as you felt the release of the knife cutting you. The warm, sticky red fluid glistened in the moonlight as it slowly dripped down your abdomen.

"So pretty," Matt whispered, brushing your messy hair out of your face and his eyes dancing between your desperate expression and the way the blood looked so beautiful on your skin. Moans began pouring from you again as Chris fucked you senseless up against the tree.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Harder," you begged, your eyes lazily rolling back into your head as your breasts bounced to the cadence of his thrusts. "Cock dumb little slut," Chris menacingly chuckled at your pathetic pleading, but he still gave you what you so enthusiastically craved, relishing in your desperation for him.

You loved feeling helpless and giving yourself over so willingly to both brothers as they used you for their own pleasure. Your whimpers became louder and fuller as you neared your tipping point again.

"Harder," you cried out again before your orgasm took over. Your gaze danced between both of their masks, and your pussy started rhythmically throbbing around Chris' cock as he delivered a few more monumental strokes. You felt a wonderful, relieved feeling in the pit of your stomach as you came unraveled under the control of both boys.

Your brows pinched together, your knees weakened, and your stare began to lose its focus until you couldn't concentrate on anything except for the pure pleasure and ecstasy coursing through you. You were pumped full of Chris' cum as his cock twitched inside of you, and as you came down from your intense adrenaline rush, you felt all your muscles relax.

Both men chuckled, removing their masks and revealing their identities to you. Sure enough, you had guessed wrong. Chris leaned in and chuckled into your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You may have guessed wrong, but we're going to spare you. You're worth way more to us alive than dead."

[woaza]

Skully J. graves X Yuu!reader

Contains : Head cannons (Mostly J. Graves coming back to live with Yuu in ramshackle)!

Word count : 460 (super short!)

Warnings : None!

A/n : I want to make a fic about him soon and post (more) Twst content! I’m definitely gonna do multiple fandoms on this account but I’m just trying to write more! So if you have any Twst request please lmk!

Also more Delico Nursery fics for sure, just trying to post shorter fics while I’m still busy.

— He retains confusing knowledge, and is strangely thoughtful. He won’t know how to do some basic things sometimes. Yet you’ll be struggling on an advanced assignment from professor Crewel and he’ll somehow know the answer???

“Skully! This assignment is so confusing? Magic theory is confusing, it hardly seems fair to give me a an assignment on advanced magic theory when I can’t even use magic!” He simply Nods his head and leans over your shoulder and glances at the paper. “Oh this is rather simple (then gives an in depth explanation)” which has you stunned for a moment “Skully you didn’t know what a casserole was yesterday? How do you know this?”

— Yet he will never forget facts about you. From your birthday to your preferences on certain foods. Especially if you’re picky he has all your icks memorized.

You and Skully were growing bored on a weekend. Normally time that would be spent with your friends was unfortunately taken from you. Everyone seemed to have plans. Including Grim which is strange (he had detention). So you two walked down to Sam’s shop. You and him stand in an isle looking at various different options. “Skully which ones should we get?” You say turning slightly to look at him. Without a beat of his hesitation, he instantly reaches for your favorite ones. “These ones.” Holding out the bag to you. “Those are my favorites! Good choice.” You smile happily and he quickly responds. “I know.”

— Adores grim! Despite Grims attitude towards him. Grim was neutral towards the man until it he decided to “Get to close to his henchmen”. Alarms went off in Grims head when he was told that Skully would be coming back to NRC with Yuu. He was extremely unhappy, but then he was told he would be staying in ramshackle? Grim practically lost it and pouted for weeks. Though Skully just thinks it’s amusing and earns his trust through tuna cans. (As you had instructed him to do.)

— I literally imagine life with this man as the Adam’s family. If you choose to marry him you all are going to be different in the best way possible. The whole nine yards, cutting off the head of the flowers and only giving you the stems. Your children sharing their father’s obsession with Halloween.

— Best friends with the ghosts in ramshackle. Often times you can overhear them gossiping through the thin walls. He compliments them on their abilities to scare people.

— Major Gentleman! He pulls out all your chairs and opens every door for you. Seven forbid you ever take off your coat without his help. He is simply so deeply Enraptured with you. When he takes off your coat he always takes a couple of moments to admire you. Always having to ground himself.

Another A/N: I’m so excited for Halloween!!

[gurugirl]

Says Who? | demonrry

Summary: Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

A/N: Something filthy and fun for Halloween! Not really scary, mostly just a smutty thing!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: smut, filth, spitting, major MAJOR size kink, creampie, unprotected public sex, Harry's a demon (or maybe he's just a dick - you choose)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Y/n could feel the base vibrating through to her marrow. The whole club was alive, a sticky hot sea of sweaty, dancing bodies, strobing lights, god-awful costumes.

She was less concerned about her white angel wings getting dirtied than she was about her drink getting something tossed into it. Some of the people making eye contact with her were… she didn’t know, but perhaps she’d keep her distance.

Though, as she looked down into her plastic cup, she realized it was all but pink melted ice. If she wanted something to worry about (other than her delicate white wings) she’d need a refill.

She figured she put a little too much effort into her costume. Her angel wings were made of real feathers and lace, lined with ribbing to make them look real, and her gauzy smock dress left little to the imagination for what she wore under. Of course, she doused herself in a healthy amount of soft shimmer and glitter and attempted to do the perfect winged liner –it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn near close.

She'd gone alone to the club. A maybe not-so-smart move in retrospect, but still. She was there and she wanted to do something she'd never done before. Something outside of her comfort zone. Maybe even a little dangerous for once in her life.

The bar was packed with bodies, all lined up for a drink. Y/n waved her arm in the air, hoping to get the attention of the lone bartender. The poor guy was running his ass off and she could see sweat stains under his arms. It was rather stifling in the building.

Suddenly a very warm hand was pressed into her back, hot palm burning through the thin fabric of her dress down to her skin, “You don’t need another drink, Y/n.”

Turning to her right she saw a man with an imposing stature standing over her, his massive mitt cradling his own cup as he looked down at her, green irises practically glowing.

“Says who? I’ve only had one anyway. And how do you know my name?”

The grin that stretched over his face caught her off guard. He was handsome. She let her eyes wander from his broad shoulders up his neck and to the top of his head. He had thick dark waves with small pointed horns sticking out of the top just so. They looked real. The devil. How fitting a costume for a man who looked like that.

“Your name is printed on your cup,” he pointed. Y/n had forgotten that everyone was given a cup upon entry, their name scrawled across the smooth plastic, and told not to lose it. It was one of those underground club events and the cup was like your ticket to get in once you'd passed the initial pay-to-enter area.

She laughed and smiled, “Oh, I forgot,” she looked down at his cup again, noticing large rings adorning his thick fingers, “Harry.”

“What’s an angel doing in a place like this anyway?”

Another laugh puffed from behind her lips before she used her tongue to wet her parched mouth, “It’s a club. I don’t know. Saw an ad and it sounded fun. Why? Should I be worried?” Y/n bit her lip for effect. She wasn’t worried. But she did like this man’s vibe. He was flirty without being overt, his warm hand still sprawled along her back, face dangerously close.

“You should be worried. This is not a safe place, Y/n,” an evil smile worked its way over his features. He was teasing. Or maybe he wasn't.

She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes before releasing her bottom lip, “But you’re here,” she looked back over her shoulder at the wild crowd behind them, “You gonna keep me safe from all the bad guys?”

“Is the angel asking the devil to watch over her tonight?” His grin grew lopsided, a dimple digging into his skin. God, he was attractive.

“Maybe. But you won’t let me get another drink so I don’t know…”

His eyes scraped over her face and down to her angel outfit, auditing, before he pushed into her back, moving her toward him closer. She watched him sit his cup down on the syrup-smeared bartop before his hand found her jaw, fingers digging into the soft part under her mandible, “Oh you’re parched, are you? Open up for me, angel.”

She felt her body swell and seethe in heat from his bold ask. But what else was she there for that night but to have a little fun with a stranger? So she parted her lips, slowly opening wider as he dipped over her frame and tilted her neck back until she felt the warm glob of saliva land on the tip of her tongue. She let out a pathetic moan when he licked over her lips, his spit moistening the dry skin like he was making sure she knew whose spit was sliding down her throat.

“Did you swallow for me?” He asked cooly as he kept her jaw in his hand.

Knocking her head up and down she kept her eyes on his and then suddenly she was being pulled away from the bar. He had an arm tucked around her waist, keeping her next to his warm frame until they’d moved into the shadowy edges of the club and he prodded her into a small space between a column and a metal air duct before he was pushing his hips and mouth against hers.

He tasted like autumn outdoors, hay, spit, burning leaves… Running her fingers into his hair she felt his hand on her hip, bunching at the sheer fabric until he was reaching into the thin wispy lace of the top of her white panties, palm gliding down her belly button until the pads of his fingers were pressed in a place she would normally never let a stranger touch. Especially not in public.

But it was Halloween, and this was what she’d been looking for. Something a little dangerous, a little crazy. This was the kind of place where one could get away with such iniquities.

Soon, the only thirst that remained was to feel more of him. To feel his hands, his fingers… He smoothed his tongue against hers as his middle finger rubbed tightly over her exposed clit after he'd torn the delicate fabric of her underwear. She was throbbing against him. Wetting his digits slowly until it was slippery and he could easily slide one and then two inside of her cunt.

“Love when I make angels wet. You’re just a good girl but this is exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?”

She moaned and yanked his hair, hoping he’d put his lips back against hers. She loved his mouth, loved how he kissed her all dirty and raw.

“Yes…” She blinked up at him and then gasped when he shoved a third fat finger inside of her hole. It made her wobble forward into him, her cheek pressed into his solid chest. He fucked her just like that, on his fingers as he kept whispering into her ear, “Gonna change your life tonight angel. Show you what it feels like to really get off.”

Her mouth was wide open as he slid his fingers so deep she was certain nothing had ever gone in like that before. Not even Donny’s hard prick felt like that (what a disappointment he had been).

“Can’t even stand up straight and that’s just my fingers in there little girl. What are you gonna do when it’s my cock splitting you in half, hm?”

She groaned as he continued pumping his fingers through her gummy insides and she gripped onto his biceps so she didn't simply wither to the floor.

Y/n didn’t want anyone to see what was happening but it felt so good and she was so close. Already. The heel of his palm was bumping, sliding into her clit with every thrust of his wrist and she swore he was fucking into her to the beat of the bassy electronic music.

Her head began to spin and her ears were ringing, muffling the noise of the crowd and the music when she felt the delicious release of her orgasm.

Harry pushed her back into the wall quickly when he felt her shaking and with his free hand he held her face, smushing her cheeks with his thumb at one side and his pointer finger on the other, “Look at me when you come. Your orgasm belongs to me. Fuck that’s so pretty…”

She was stunned. It felt so good. Her body was writhing and being pushed and pulled at the hulking man’s direction. He guided her through it, plunging his fingers inside of her and dragging them over her slick spongy spot at the front of her wall. It was like he’d found a hidden switch within her insides and turned it on for her.

“You gonna keep being a good girl for me? Let me claim you and fuck an orgasm out of you on my cock this time? Want that, angel?”

Y/n’s rationale had gone out the window the moment he spit into her mouth and licked over her lips at the bar. So she nodded as he pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought all three, slimy, coated in her arousal, up to her lips, “Open up that thirsty little mouth. Suck.”

She wrapped her lips around his fingers and he pushed them past her comfortable gag spot as he made haste with his other hand, undoing his pants before pulling out his dick.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth and pulled at her neck, "Take a look. Think it'll feel nice and snug inside that tiny little angel pussy?"

Y/n shifted her eyes down to the hot engorged dick the man had brushing against her, his tip wide and ruddy against her labia. She inhaled, looking up at the man and then back down at the size of him, "It's… I don't know… It's so…" She bucked into him, feeling unsteady, her thighs still shaking.

"At least twice as big as what you've played with before. I know. But you get used to it. Come to love it. The way it plugs in so deep, carves into your insides, and makes a nice wet home… No one ever forgets it."

She clutched his forearm with a shaky hand and used her other to reach down and touch him. He was hot. So much warmer than she expected. Peering around his broad shoulders she could see people grinding and doing ungodly things on the dancefloor already. There were no rules in that club, except to not lose the cup you were handed when you paid to enter, and she'd already lost that at the bar somewhere.

When she felt him grip tight the meat of her thigh and perch it over his hip he slid his cockhead to her dripping seam and began to dip in.

"Oohh…" she warbled out a moan and then looked up at his handsome face, "Mmm…"

"Open that pretty mouth, show me your tongue."

She did what he said, parting her lips as her pussy spread open little by little. The feel of him slowly pushing into her was sticky, gooey, sharp. But the warm spit that dripped onto her tongue was salacious, made her pussy throb and flutter around his girth.

"There we go. Get that pussy spread apart for me. Let me have you, angel."

She was already letting him have her. She was his… whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Right in front of everyone… sloppy, wet, deranged, disgusting…

"Mm ahhh…" she panted, her brows pushed together as he rutted in and in, filling up every bit of empty space she had available. Split open, stuffed full, slippery hot debauchery.

Harry threw his head back for a moment, basking in the tight pussy wrapped around him. Sopping. It was his chance to feel a bit of heaven.

Reaching down for her other thigh, he pushed her up and lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist so he could work into her deeper, really give her a taste of what the devil could do.

She yelped and gurgled wetly, eyes bulging as he buried himself in, "Fuck…"

"Yeah? Didn't know angels liked to say such words." He swiveled his hips, a harsh plunge in again, and the squelch of her pussy against his length meant she was as wet as she could possibly be. "Oh you're soaked, angel. No wonder you're so thirsty. All your juices are down here," He rocked up into her and she cried out, "So you can take me properly."

While no one much cared about the angel with her wings pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around the devil's waist as he stuffed her pussy with his big cock, it was obvious what was going on in that dark little corner every time the strobe flashed over the pair copulating. If the look on her pretty face didn't give it away, all fucked out, wet lips parted, eyes rolling back into her head… it was the way the devil was rocking his hips sharply against her, making her legs shake with every thrust.

He knew he was hollowing her out, poking in beyond what was comfortable for her… he knew she'd never forget the way he felt inside of her. It'd stick with her forever and she'd never be able to come again without thinking about the devil.

She'd masturbate thinking about that night at the club and she'd release with the image of him inside of her. And any poor man who stuck his rinky dinky human dick into her pussy would never get her off –she'd be thinking of Harry, the demon with the biggest cock she'd ever had. That would be the only way she'd ever be able to come. A curse, but also a blessing because now she'd always be able to get off to the memory of him no matter who was fucking her. Everyone else would pale in comparison… but that's what he loved so much about fucking sweet human girls. They never forgot his big cock and he owned them in a way. At least he owned their orgasms.

Slushy, gloopy, splatting… his long dick dragged and kissed against her sweetest spot and she felt the tingle and the ache of it as she bounced with every drive of his hips.

"Give me that come, angel. Right on my cock."

She inhaled sharply as he laved his tongue over her lips, slicking his saliva over her mouth and spitting onto her tongue again, "Mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Cunt will never feel it like this again but she'll remember who owns her won't she?"

Y/n was simply done for… her body was putty, molten liquid, dripping, bowing to his whim. His cock would be forever imprinted within her womb as she felt him slide through her channel, thick and throbbing - it was as if she could feel his bulbous cockhead pushing into her tummy, bulging at the front. Microscopic tears around her gaping, wet, stretched muscle she'd need to tend to later. All worth it to be fucked like that.

Her eyes were bleary as she looked at him when she began to come. He was right and she knew it. Her body would never forget it. She was ruined for him already as her vocal cords hitched up an octave and she made his favorite noise. Every dip of his broad crown through her gushing walls smeared his leaking slit against her cervix.

Harry watched the angel fall apart around his cock, face crumpled, body reveling in her release, toes curled in her shoes, but when she moaned his name and gazed into his eyes with droopy lids he couldn't hold back the way she was milking around him. He slammed into her, one brutal thrust, cock burrowing in as he splattered and pumped into her. His warm spend, a mucusy mural for her tight little wet walls. Like his signature left behind so anyone else who entered would know he'd been there. That everything inside of her cunt belonged to him because he'd already claimed it…

She'd think about all that later. That she'd had unprotected sex with a stranger at a club. That he'd filled her with his sperm and spit into her mouth. She'd get tested and watch for her period and then get tested again. And when she turned out clean and not pregnant part of her would be disappointed that she didn't have some excuse to search for the man to let him know what he'd done so she could do it all over again with him. Get her brains fucked out and her little pussy stretched in a way that shouldn't have been as good as it was.

But she wouldn't regret that part. Her only rue that night would be that she hadn't gotten his last name or maybe a number. It was probably better to not know who he was, though. Because if she did she'd obsess. She'd fiend. She'd pine. She'd stalk. She'd make a fool of herself to just have another taste. And a guy like him would probably already be onto the next.

It was better to not know who he was because he wasn't really nice. When he was finished with her, when his come was fucked into her and he made her watch how he shoved it all back in with his huge cock, gripped her neck, and made her look at the way it dripped from her puffy, used pussy and how he took his dick and pressed it back into her stinging hole and told her to not to clean herself up –he left. He dropped her down to her feet, tucked his big cock back into his pants, patted her hot little cheek, and walked off without even turning back to look or check on her.

She watched him disappear into the crowd with her torn panties at her hips and his come dripping down the inside of her legs, chest heaving, heart thrashing in her chest… Her back and her legs and her pussy ached but she'd have him again if he just came back. So, it was better to not know.

It was better to not know because maybe he actually was the devil.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

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[vigilante-3073]

All Those Who Go Unnoticed

Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: Evan Buckley has always been left behind and forgotten about. What happens when someone finally decides to stay?

TW: Mentions of neglect and self-deprecating thoughts, angst, friends to lovers.

Evan Buckley was born to serve a purpose that he could not fulfill. His parents only had another child in a futile attempt to save his older brother Daniel. After his brother had passed away, Buck's parents treated him like he was a waste of space. Everything he did was wrong and he couldn't seem to ever find himself in their good graces.

Buck relied on his older sister Maddie for years until she eventually left him behind to start a life of her own. Buck left home as soon as he could, but struggled to find himself for years. He bounced between jobs in search of something that could make him feel like he mattered.

Everything fell into place when he decided to become a firefighter.

Buck loved his job at the 118, he saved lives everyday with some of the most amazing people he had ever met. He found a family that valued him and treated him how he deserved to be treated. Despite having everything he had spent his life searching for, Buck still felt like nothing he did was good enough.

He could have been smarter. He could have been faster. He could have done more.

Buck had never told anyone how critical he could be of himself. It was something that he always dealt with, definitely a mindset created by his parents.

Buck always felt like he had to prove himself and show everyone that he had value. It was a never-ending quest that weighed on him heavily.

Y/N had quickly become Buck's best friend when he joined the 118 all those years ago. She was a firefighter-paramedic and she was great at her job. Y/N never doubted herself and Buck admired her tenacity, especially when people challenged her in the field.

Y/N and Buck hardly went a day without seeing each other. He felt like his day wasn't complete until he talked to her.

They were the kind of friends that could have a 4-hour long video call while doing chores around the house or spend all day just chatting about nothing in particular. They knew everything there was to know about each other and seemed to share a brain at times.

Buck had never felt seen until he met Y/N.

Y/N always brought him into conversations or found her way over to him when she could tell he was pulling back. Y/N knew about how hard Buck could be on himself, she could tell when he was overthinking and was able to pull him out of that mindset.

"You need to be kinder to yourself, Buck," Y/N had told him one night when he was alone in the locker room after a rough shift.

"I'll try," He had replied.

Buck thought about that interaction quite often, he was always beating himself up for things he had little control over and it needed to end.

It was a hard cycle to break, but he was trying, and he was trying because of her.

...

Buck watched Y/N talk animatedly to Hen and Karen about a book they had all been reading. They laughed loudly at something she said before Hen began sharing her own thoughts on the book.

Y/N looked over, locking eyes with Buck from across the yard and sending him a small wave with a smile. He waved back, watching her as she returned to her conversation.

Bobby took a seat at the patio table beside Buck, "So, when are you gonna ask her out?" He questioned.

Buck's eyebrows raised, "Oh, no, I was just-," He started, "Save the excuse, I can tell that you like her as more than a friend," Bobby said with a knowing smile.

Buck looked down at the table with a sigh, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb nail, "She's way too good for me," Buck said.

"What makes you say that?" Bobby asked.

Buck shrugged, "She's amazing and I'm just me... I don't deserve her," He stated.

"Buck, you're a good guy but you need to know when to get out of your own way. Don't overthink it, just ask her out. I'm almost 100% sure she would say yes if you asked her out on a date," Bobby assured.

"Almost 100%?" Buck asked.

"99.9% sure," Bobby amended.

Buck looked over at her to find her making her way over to the cooler full of drinks. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to her.

"Hey," He greeted.

"Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna stop hiding away in the corner," Y/N teased.

"Can I ask you something?" Buck questioned, "Of course," Y/N replied.

"Um, you can totally tell me if I'm looking at this the wrong way, but is there something- I don't know... Is there something more than friendship between us?" He asked.

"Do you want there to be something more?" Y/N asked.

"I think I do," Buck answered hesitantly.

Relief washed over him when a smile broke out across her face, "I do too," She said.

"Oh my god, you have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now," Buck said, huffing out a soft laugh.

Y/N rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm, "You really weren't kidding. Do you need to sit down?" She asked.

"No, I'm good. I just- Will you go out on a date with me?" He questioned, resting his hand over her's on his chest.

"Of course I'll go out with you, Buck," Y/N replied.

...

Y/N and Buck had been dating for almost a year, she had moved into his apartment and everything seemed amazing. Buck still felt like he was waiting for the day she found someone better and left him in the dust, but she chose him each and every day.

Buck had never felt like the center of attention, he always went above and beyond to be noticed, but it was effortless with Y/N. Buck felt like he was being seen after a lifetime of feeling invisible and it was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't think of a way to repay Y/N for bringing him to life again.

Until he did.

He sat at a table in the busy coffee shop, a mug of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Buck felt jittery and he had yet to take a single sip of the hot beverage, instead choosing to watch the door closely. Buck straightened up in his seat as Maddie made her way into the establishment. She walked through the tables before sitting down in the chair across from him.

"Where's Y/N? Is she not coming?" Maddie asked.

"Um, no, actually. I kinda needed some time to talk to you... Alone," Buck said hesitantly, grimacing at his own awkwardness.

Maddie gasped, "Are you going to propose to Y/N?" She asked.

Buck's face fell, "How did you know that? I didn't even say anything yet," He questioned.

"I just knew," Maddie grinned, "Aw, Buck, this is so exciting!" She said.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now. I mean, with everything we've gone through this year, I don't want to spend anymore time not being together, y'know?" Buck questioned.

"I do," Maddie said.

"I think she's my person, Maddie," Buck admitted.

Maddie smiled, her eyes glossing over with happy tears, "She definitely is, Evan," She said.

"I was wondering if you had some time today to help me pick out a ring. I've looked around a little bit, but I'm kinda useless at this stuff," He said.

"Of course I'll help. Do you have any idea what kind of ring she may want?" Maddie asked.

"I think she likes the ones with the jewel that's shaped like an egg," Buck said slowly.

"This is going to be a very long and expensive day for you, little brother," Maddie sighed with a smile.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I HAVE A LOT OF REGRETS ABOUT THAT

osamu dazai x reader, 18 dark ages! dazai

you take care of dazai while he’s ill and in a rare moment of vulnerability.

for 🚬 anon! thank you for supporting 🤍

inspired by this is me trying

he didn’t think it was possible to be so ahead.

he was only 18, and had committed hundreds of crimes. he was a young man, and yet the star pupil of the mafia boss. he had only been in the world for less than a few decades, and yet knew the world better than anyone.

so was he ahead, or was he behind? perhaps he was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

his head is pounding, feeling the ache in his eyes. his body feels slack, like its giving up on him despite only just growing it itself. he’s weak, and hiding out in his apartment like a coward. if someone wanted to kill him, now would be the time to do it.

luckily, thats not what you’re here to do. much to his dismay.

he was wary at first, letting you in. he says the usual- that he’ll get you sick and that he can handle himself. but the man who’s wrapped in bandages clearly can’t take care of himself, even if its just a simple cold.

so you trudge in anyway, sighing at his empty fridge with only a few expired contents. how he was surviving was a mystery to you.

so you put together what you can, forging a soup with crab meat so he’ll actually eat it. you don’t know, but he’s watching you from his bedroom.

he’s not used to being taken care of.

truthfully, he could follow his fears all the way down. he could let his shiny wheels rust, and succumb to the realities of life. its what he always preaches about, anyway. he says he wants death, but more so just a reason to go on. whether there was one for him was a different question.

he sighs wearily when you bring a bowl of soup to him, only realizing how hungry he is when he can smell it wafting towards his nostrils. “thank you, darling.” he hums, not caring for the way it slightly burns his fingertips when he takes it from you.

normally, he’d call you an angel for taking care of him, and ask you to commit double suicide holding his hand. you know he’s tired when all he can manage is a thank you before he’s eating the soup like its his first meal in days. honestly, it might have been.

“how are you feeling?” you ask, sitting next to him on the bed. he almost smiles when you put hour hand against his forehead, feeling his temperature. maybe he loves your cold hands against his burning hot skin, or maybe he loves you. probably both.

he resigns to remain strong. because he doesn’t want to be an open wound. its hard to be anywhere these days when all he wants is you, but he can’t admit that. what would happen if he trusted? if he let himself be saved? who would he lose?

“i’m okay.” he says, curving his dehydrated lips into a smile.

you sigh.

his lies are a flashback in a film reel. you’ve seen them before, but they still hurt.

“don’t give me that.” you say, clutching his bandaged hands. “let me care about you, ‘samu.”

for just a moment there, his smirk falls.

he’s used to being told that all his problems are mental. he’s used to getting wasted at bars, like all his potential. he’s used to downing everything he could have been, had he not been exposed to evil at such a young age.

evil expects evil from others. dazai himself was evil. so why weren’t you?

he doesn’t know. but he knows he’s anything but okay right now.

“i’m… tired. and my head is killing me.” he whispers, setting aside his near empty bowl of soup. he looks tired.

you don’t say anything, but he does let you gently push him onto the bed. his heart flutters when he feels you tuck the blankets around him, and end with a kiss on his forehead.

“you rest.” you hum. “i’m gonna go do your groceries. you need more than just instant food, ‘samu. but you are paying me back.”

he’s too tired to protest, and maybe he loves being taken care of. this is him trying.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 18: I Fucking Heard You

You and Joel adjust to life apart. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 17, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 8.3k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

January, 2008 

He was going to actually do it this time. 

Joel was sitting outside your apartment building, drumming against the steering wheel of his truck, desperate to work out some of the anxious energy that kept building and building inside of him. 

But he just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he was done trying to pretend like he didn’t love you. He was going to say it. 

Actually say it. 

For real this time. 

He’d ignored it as long as he could manage, shoved it down and tried to kill it by going out with practically every girl in school for even longer. He didn’t want to ruin things between the two of you, he was terrified of that more than he was of just about anything else. You mattered more to him than anyone, he couldn’t lose you, especially not to his own stupidity. But he couldn’t keep how he felt separate from your friendship, either. He loved you so much he felt like he was choking on it, like it had to go somewhere outside of himself or he was going to lose his damn mind with it. 

So he’d finally worked up the courage to tell you. Rip the bandaid off. Maybe it wouldn’t blow up in his face, maybe… maybe you’d tell him you felt the same way. Maybe you’d grab him and kiss him the way he pretended you would when he thought about you when he was alone. Maybe you’d tell him you changed your mind about going across the country, maybe you’d go to college here in Austin and you’d move in together and he’d get to be next to you all the time. 

This, he decided, was the perfect night for it. There was a meteor shower he’d heard about on the news and he talked you into going to the park to watch it. It seemed right, telling you this with the whole galaxy stretched out in front of you. Things were changing tonight. He could feel it. 

He watched as you more fell than climbed out of your window, landing in the bushes and clumsily pulling yourself free of them before dashing to his truck. 

“What are you wearin’ Goldie Girl?” He teased as you got in, the collar of a second sweatshirt visible below your hoodie, the sleeves unusually bulky. 

“What!” You asked, brows raised. “It’s January! It’s cold! And… I couldn’t risk waking up my mom by going to the coat closet for my jacket.” 

Joel snorted. 

“I’m counting on you to keep me warm out there, Miller,” you said, buckling up as Joel started driving, his heart beating out a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “This whole thing was your idea.” 

“I got blankets,” he said. “Not gonna let you freeze.” 

As he drove, the two of you caught up on everything that had happened in the few hours it had been since you’d last seen him - no time at all, really, but it always dragged for Joel. It seemed like he was always just marking time until he got to see you again. He was almost always with you until curfew. Then, awake for an hour, sleep for eight, wake up and then just an hour before he was at your door again, picking you up to take you to school. Then it was three and a half hours until lunch - which you always had with him - then just an hour until your single shared class - newspaper, which he’d joined to make you happy - and then two hours until school was done and he was with you again.

You told Joel about Anna’s issues in school and Joel told you about his mom’s frustrations with his own grades. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled a little as you scolded him and told him you’d help him study, he just had to actually do it and he smiled and nodded along because he knew that. You were always trying to bring out the best in him. You were the only one who could.

“Oh, and, there’s the one really big thing,” you said as Joel parked his truck. 

“I got a big thing, too,” he said. Your eyes lit up at that, always ready to be excited for him. “Yours first.” 

“OK. So, you know Steve?” You asked, brows raised.

“Steve,” Joel frowned, trying to picture someone the both of you knew named Steve. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you said. “You know, Steve…” 

“You can keep saying his name all you want, I still don’t know who you mean,” he laughed. 

“Steve,” you said again, incredulous. “The yearbook editor, Steve.” 

“Oh!” He said, picturing the guy now. “Yeah, OK, Steve. Right. What about him?” 

“Well,” you said sitting up a little straighter. “He asked me out.” 

Joel just stared at you for a moment, blinking in shock. His stomach sank. He had the strange feeling that he was falling from some great height, not unlike what he felt when riding a roller coaster with you except there was no safety harness to keep him from tumbling to the earth. 

“What?” He said eventually. 

“Steve asked me out,” you said, chin up like you were proud. “I actually have a date, I’m not just hanging out with you for a change!” 

“You said yes?” He asked, his mouth dry. 

“Yeah, of course I did! We’re going to go to the movies,” you said, beaming, before you realized that Joel apparently wasn’t reacting the way you expected. You cocked your head, frowning. “Why, should I not have? Is there something wrong with him?” 

“No,” he said quickly. “No, sure he’s fine, I just… didn’t know you liked ‘im is all.” 

“I mean,” you shrugged. “He’s not bad looking and he’s funny and he’s smart and he writes… We have a lot in common. What’s not to like?”

Of course. Of course you’d go for someone more like you, someone who was smart like you and didn’t fucking struggle in school like he did, someone who wrote like you instead of just fucked around with their entire life like he did. Why on Earth would you be interested in him? Why on Earth would you waste your fucking time on someone like him when you were so clearly meant for so much better? Not that Steve was fucking good enough for you. No one was, Joel included. 

“Right,” he said. He thought he might throw up. 

“What?” You said, laughing awkwardly. “Are you OK? You look weird…” 

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Just… You know. Be careful, guys can be assholes.” 

“Yeah, you’d know,” you teased. 

“No, I mean it,” Joel said. “Sure he seems like a decent guy but…” 

“But?” You asked, brows raised. 

“He don’t deserve you,” he said. 

You smiled then, gently, reaching out and putting your hand on his thigh and giving his leg a squeeze. 

“You’re sweet,” you said. “And you’re worried about nothing. It’s high school. It’s a date. It’s not like we’re getting married. Oh, maybe we could all go out together sometime! Once you pick the new flavor of the week, I mean. I’ll actually have someone to go with now.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said, forcing himself to smile. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

He gathered up the blankets and set them out in the bed of his truck and he helped pull you into it, settling in just as the meteor shower started overhead. You pressed yourself close to him and he could feel the heat of your breath on his skin and fuck he wished it could have been him you said yes to. 

“Oh, what was your thing?” You asked, looking up at him from where your head was nestled against his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to derail the conversation…” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel said, scrambling for something - anything - to say. “Tommy… decided to take after his big brother and go out for football next year.” 

“Nice!” You said, looking back at the sky again. “You’re going to put him through his paces before, right? Teach him how to take a hit?” 

Joel scoffed. 

“Course,” he said. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t.” 

The two of you watched stars streak across the sky for hours. Joel set an alarm on his phone because he knew you’d sleep through one on yours and you snuggled close to him under the blankets. 

“You were right,” you said, voice sleepy. “This is really cool. Thanks for talking me into it.” 

“Course,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss you. “I’d do anything for you… Love you, Goldie.” 

You smiled against him. 

“Love you, too,” you said. 

He held you close and wondered what it would be like if you meant it the same way he did.  

***

September, 2023

“Aunt Goldie?” 

You looked up from painting Sarah’s toenails to see her watching you, her head cocked and a serious expression on her face, one that was partially obscured by the facial mask you’d applied before you’d started in on her nails during your at home spa day. 

“Niece Sarah?”

“Why are you and my dad still in a fight?” She asked. 

You just blinked for a moment, taking a moment to process her question. It caught you off guard - not that it should have. Things had been very different since her birthday party months earlier and Sarah was a smart kid. It made sense that she would notice. You just hadn’t prepared an answer - something that felt like a massive oversight now that it was in front of you. 

“What makes you think that we’re in a fight?” You said eventually, putting the brush back in the jar of polish before you dripped on the floor. 

“You never come over anymore,” she said. 

“Well, I live back at my own house now,” you said, starting in on her toes again. 

“Duh,” Sarah said and you could practically hear her eyes roll. “But even before you and Ellie lived with us you came over all the time and you don’t anymore. And my dad never comes here with me, he always just drops me off.” 

“We both have a lot going on,” you said, happy you had an excuse to not be looking her in the eye. “It’s not…” 

“I’m not stupid, you know,” she said and you looked up then, her gaze serious as she watched you closely. “I know something happened.” 

You finished her pinky toe and closed the nail polish with a sigh. 

“Sarah…” 

“My dad’s been acting different,” she cut you off, a little heated, and you frowned. 

“Different?” You asked. “Different how?” 

“He’s just…” she sighed. “I think he’s sad. He tries to pretend like he’s not and that everything’s normal but I know him and I can tell. I don’t know what happened but I think it’s stupid that you guys just aren’t talking or whatever right now. I wish you’d just figure it out.” 

You looked at Sarah, at her wide and hopeful eyes, and tried to figure out how to explain this to her.

How did you tell her that you weren’t sure how to move past how her father - the person you loved most in the world - apparently saw you? That you needed space from him because you couldn’t let yourself revolve around him anymore? That it wasn’t good for you to have your life so intertwined with someone who would, inevitably, go on to have a life outside of you?

It had been a strange two months, not seeing and even really speaking to Joel. 

The first day was strange. It was just you and Ellie and your cat in your house that had done nothing beyond collect dust in the months since your niece was born. 

Being there, alone, with Ellie made you nervous and you were sure she could sense it in you somehow, like she knew you were unworthy and letting her down by taking her away from the one fully competent person in her life because you were too selfish and couldn’t move past your own shit. 

To make matters worse, your mind kept going back to Joel and the strange life the two of you had made together in the months you’d lived with him. He’d become built into everything, the rhythm of your life out of sync without him and Sarah there, too. You missed both of them so much it hurt but it was especially painful with Joel. You missed the way the two of you would navigate around each other in the kitchen in the morning, his hand so often finding your hip or the small of your back when he needed to reach around you or move past you. The way you could hold your toothbrush out and he would put the right amount of toothpaste on it before going to bed at the end of the day. The way he would just open your beer for you when he got you one, because - while you didn’t need him to - he knew you didn’t like getting your nails under the pull tab of the can or twisting the cap on the bottles. 

Joel knew you. You’d been married a decade and you weren’t sure your husband had ever known you the way Joel did. He’d certainly never done things like that for you. Joel did. That was part of why that moment after Sarah’s party had caught you so off guard. You’d thought you meant more to him than that, that you were more than one of the women he’d pick up, have fun with for a night or a week or a month and then cast aside.

But then he shoved you against the wall in his kitchen and fucked you with his fingers like all you were to him was something physical, telling you how no one could fuck you like he did, as though that was the only thing that would matter. 

You tried to shove that keen loneliness that came with missing him down by focusing on Ellie and pouring your every thought onto the page. You just kept your niece as close as possible all the time, keeping her strapped to your chest as you sat at your desk to write until it felt like your brain was going numb or got your house cleaned up or made dinner or went for a walk just to get out of your own head for a bit. You hoped that all but smothering her with closeness would keep her from realizing the coldly obvious thing that was your desperation and it was a relief when you took her to the rehab facility to pick up Anna. 

This time, things with Anna and Ellie were smooth. Or as close to smooth as you could get with someone coming out of months of inpatient therapy and an infant. Anna seemed nervous with Ellie at first, hesitating and double checking everything, her eyes going from her daughter’s face to yours like she wanted your approval for how she was doing. 

“This is right?” She asked as she held the bottle while cradling Ellie in the way that Joel had shown you. 

“Yeah,” you smiled gently. “You’ve got it.” 

“Yeah,” Anna said, looking back down at Ellie and smiling a little, too. “I think I do.” 

You pulled back slowly then. 

The first two weeks, you were more hands on, doing at least 50% of the work of caring for Ellie, going with Anna daily to meetings and therapy, writing as much as you could and keeping Joel far from your mind. 

But, after a little while, Anna started to naturally take on more and more. The two of you went from splitting the overnight Ellie care to Anna handling everything. Slowly but surely, she took over everything and, by week five, all you were doing was watching as she cared for her daughter. 

“If you wanted to move back home, I think I’m ready,” she said one afternoon as she fed Ellie while you made some tweaks to the plot of your novel in your story notebook. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, setting your pen down, eyebrows drawn together. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Why, do you think I’m not?” 

“No!” You said quickly. “No, I think you’re doing great. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.” 

“It won’t be like it was before,” she smiled, a twinge of sadness in her expression as she did. “I know her now. I know me now. I’ve got this, I don’t need to hold you back anymore.” 

“You’re not…” you began, but she cut you off. 

“I am,” she said. “You have a life outside of me and her and you put it on hold because I couldn’t get my shit together…” 

“You just needed help…” you interjected, but she ignored you.

“…And I’m so sorry I put that on you,” she continued. “I’ll owe you forever for taking care of my daughter when I couldn’t. But we don’t need your help now, you can go back to your life. It’s OK. I promise.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that, really, you didn’t have a life. Outside of your work, your book and your cat, you had nothing. You needed her more than she needed you. 

You’d tried to start getting a life of your own, getting out of the house and doing things on your own, well before this conversation. The first time you’d left Anna alone with Ellie for a few hours, you’d gone out with Tim, the man you’d met at Sarah’s party. 

It was a fine date. It would have been a great one had it been someone else but all you could think about when you looked at him was Joel forcing you to come on his fingers in his kitchen as he said over and over that no one else could make you feel like he did. 

Things fizzled out quickly when you realized it wasn’t something you could really get over. Since then, you hadn’t bothered with Tinder or trying to reach out to Alyssa or anyone else in town. The only person you’d really texted outside of Sarah and Anna was Gale. 

You hadn’t responded to anything your estranged husband had sent since you’d moved in with Joel but then, one day, he texted you something that made you respond. 

I didn’t want you to find this out on Facebook, that seemed wrong, but I wanted you to know that I became a father. 

You stared at the message, just a few days after Anna had said you could move back home, reading it as you held your sister’s infant daughter in your arms. You thought about ignoring it, shoving the strange, hollow feeling that was taking over the core of you down deep, but then he sent one more message, one you couldn’t just pretend he never sent at all. 

I’m sorry it wasn’t you. 

You held it together until Anna was done in the shower, giving Ellie to her and making up some excuse that you were sure she could tell was bullshit - something about a headache and feeling nauseated - so you could hide in the room that had become yours in the time you’d been at Anna’s. You buried your face in the pillow and screamed until your throat was raw and you were choking on your tears, barely able to breathe. 

It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you, not for anybody. He had been everything to you once but you hadn’t been anything to him, not really. It had never been you. 

This, you thought, you should have been used to by now. You’d always felt like you were on the fringes of your own life, the people at the center of your world putting you on the edges of theirs. Gale, when you’d first gotten together with him, was the first person since Joel who made you feel like you were a priority, like you actually mattered. That feeling had faded with time but that, you’d thought, was just a byproduct of what a whole life with someone meant. Of course he didn’t send you good morning texts with poetry anymore or get you flowers just because or go out of his way to get your favorite tea. You saw each other all the time, why would he?

But you’d been sure that, at least with your husband, you were the priority. Until he’d given you divorce papers, even through the months of distance and cold behavior, you’d thought that you were the priority.

Then you realized, you’d kept thinking that, even after he left, even now. The way the divorce had dragged on, the way he kept texting and calling and trying, some sad, sick part of yourself had latched onto that. That you were the important thing, that you were what mattered. Your marriage may have failed but you took some cold comfort in the fact that you’d at least left your mark on him.

But you hadn’t. You’d stopped sleeping together hardly more than a year ago and your husband already had a baby with another woman. Even in your marriage, you’d been on the fringes.

When you stopped crying enough that you could see clearly, you emailed your attorney.

Give him whatever he wants. I just need this to be done.

You knew what that meant. The last divorce agreement his lawyer had sent yours included shared rights to your own fucking book, him keeping the house without buying you out, him keeping the entirety of the 401k. He was asking for a lot but all you wanted then was to cut the tie as thoroughly as possible. As terrifying as it was to live in a world that made it seem like your marriage had never happened, it was better than this. 

Your lawyer called you to be sure, to try to talk you out of it, but you didn’t care. He could have whatever percentage of book rights he wanted, it's not like you could have created it without him. He could have the house, it’s not like you could ever live in it without him. He could have the entire state of Rhode Island for all you cared as long as you’d never be faced with the sharp reality of your marriage.

You wrote furiously when it was done, the words pouring out of you in a way they hadn’t since you’d written Halcyon. You barely slept or ate for days, canceling classes and writing until there wasn’t anything left inside you to say. You finished the manuscript, 33 chapters of your love and pain sitting in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, the cursor pulsing at the end of the final sentence. 

It was over. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now, but it was done. 

You were numb when you were on your couch a few days later, staring at the ceiling with nothing but your cat to keep you company, when your phone rang. You answered it without bothering to look at the screen, content to even talk to a telemarketer for a few minutes if it served as enough of a distraction.

“Hello?”

“What the hell is this, baby doll?”

You sat up fast enough that your head spun, pulling your phone away from your face to see Gale’s name on your screen. You put your ear to the phone again.

“What the hell is what?”

“This,” he said and you could hear the shuffle of papers on the other end.

“You realize we’re not on facetime, right?”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “This, the new divorce agreement your lawyer sent mine, what is this?”

You frowned, putting the call on speaker before going to your most recent email with your attorney and skimming the agreement. Your frown deepened.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked. “I thought you’d be happy, I…”

“You think this is what I want?” He cut you off, sounding heated.

“Isn’t it what you asked for?” you asked. “I don’t think I missed anything, you should have everything you wanted, and…”

“What I asked for is outrageous,” he said. You heard him put something down with a little too much force on the other end – probably a mug, knowing him – the sound of the ceramic on wood sharp. “I knew that when I asked for it."

"OK," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, taking the phone off speaker and holding it against your ear again. “What else do you want? Do you want me to say you won or something? Because…”

“I want you to reconsider,” he said.

You just sat there for a moment, blinking in shock.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “What is this. Why are you giving in to me like this.” 

It still took you a moment to process what he said before you could manage to answer. 

“I’m just trying to give you what you want,” you said, voice thick. 

“You’ve never done that before,” he said. “Hell, even when we were together you never did that, you never just gave into me unless you wanted it, too. Why now.” 

“You…” you sighed. “You’re a father now, you have… there’s someone else in your life now, you have another life now, Gale, and you should live it. I’m holding you back, I don’t want to hold you back, I…” 

“You’ve never held me back,” he said. “I’ve told you that.” 

“Well, clearly I wasn’t right for you in some way or we wouldn’t be where we’re at right now,” you snapped without meaning to. “I’m not the one who wanted to separate, that was you.” 

“Yeah, well, I fucked up,” he said and you had to bite your tongue. “I was… I’ve never been with anyone as long as I was with you…” 

“Yeah, me ether,” you said voice still sharp. “I was with you for more than a third of my life Gale.” 

“I know that,” he said, speaking more gently than you. “I should have known better, I should have understood how things would change and I should have embraced your success instead of letting it hurt me…” 

“My success hurt you?” You asked quietly. 

He sighed heavily. 

“It did,” he said. “You thrived commercially in ways I never could. I envied that, so much that I couldn’t stand being around you.” 

“That’s it?” You asked. “That’s what made you leave me, the fact that I sold more books than you did?” 

“No, of course not,” he said. “But it’s… it’s what started it.” 

You almost laughed to keep yourself from crying because of course it was the one success you’d found that broke your marriage. Why would it be anything else? 

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” you said. 

“I know,” he said. “I was wondering if…” 

“Does Carla know you’re talking to me?” You asked, cutting him off. 

“Does she need to?” He asked. “You’re my wife.” 

“And she’s the mother of your child,” you said. “I’m not going to be the other woman in my own marriage. You need to figure out what you want.” 

“And if I want you?” He asked. 

You sighed. 

“You have a family now,” you said. “Think before you blow it up.” 

But ever since, Gale had been a bigger presence in your life than Joel. He’d started acting like he had in the early days of your relationship, sending you romantic texts and having flowers delivered to your house. 

Part of you knew you should resist it, that this wouldn’t lead anywhere good. There was a reason things had fallen apart once before, you knew they would again. But going back to him would be so easy. He was comfortable, familiar. There was a life the two of you had together that you knew you could fit back into now, if you wanted. It might be complicated - he had a child now - but it was there, right in front of you. 

You just weren’t sure if you wanted it. 

So you started talking with him. Not a lot, not like it had been before, but you were texting daily. He wanted to know about your book, how your classes were going, about your life in Texas. Part of you was waiting for the other foot to drop, for him to decide that he didn’t want you again, but he was consistent and that, at least, was something. 

Meanwhile, your only contact with Joel was in a group chat with Sarah. 

You might have needed space from Joel but you couldn’t just cut things off with Sarah. It wasn’t fair to her, you knew she was attached to you. Plus, she had become like a niece or daughter to you in the year you’d known her. You knew the names of her friends and her favorite songs and the books she liked. You loved her. You’d had to keep in touch. She regularly came over to watch a movie or have dinner and she called you at least three times a week to ask for help with homework and tell you about her life.  

While you kept up with Sarah, you never really directly spoke to Joel. You only texted in the group chat to confirm that it was OK for you to pick up Sarah and what time she needed to be back, or when Joel would drop her off and pick her up at your place. 

But you’d opened up your texts to send him a message directly at least once a day and every time you just stared at the last thing he’d sent you: I’m sorry. It was sent just hours after you’d left his house with Ellie weeks before. 

You weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to say to him, what you were supposed to do with that apology. Were you supposed to accept it and pretend it had never happened? Were you supposed to actually have him explain to you, on no uncertain terms, how he saw you and what he wanted from your relationship? Could you handle actually hearing him say it if you did? 

You didn’t know. So you left it alone, the message glaring at you, the date stamp going further and further into the past with every passing day. 

And that’s where your relationship with Joel sat, frozen in time, as his daughter watched you closely. 

“You should come over tonight,” Sarah said. You raised your eyebrows and she stared you down. “When you drop me off. Just come inside, say hi, have dinner. It’s think he said he was going to grill.” 

“I’m sure he already has everything planned out for tonight,” you said, returning to the work of painting her last nail and closing the polish. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…” 

“Please?” She said, her eyes wide. She had to know what she was doing, looking at you that way. She was too smart for her own good. “I miss you.” 

You sighed. 

“Alright…” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory. 

“But just to say hi,” you said and her face fell a little. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“Psh, family doesn’t impose,” she waved you off. You looked at her, incredulous. “What? That’s what Uncle Tommy says when he wants to stay for dinner.” 

You snorted. 

“Yeah, I bet he does,” you said. “Alright, once your toes dry, we’ll go to the bookstore and get you home.” 

“And you’ll come inside?” 

“And I’ll come inside,” you said, even though the thought made your stomach knot. “Promise.” 

You took her to the bookstore, just wandering through with her and picking out a few new things for her - because you weren’t above buying a kid’s love - and got in line, where you passed a table of best sellers. 

Halcyon was sitting there, out in paperback now, one copy sitting face down so your portrait was visible on the back. Sarah frowned and picked it up, examining it for a moment before her face lit up. 

“Aunt Goldie!” She said, thrusting the book at you. “That’s you! I didn’t know you were famous!” 

You shushed her, someone in line in front of you turning to look at you. 

“OK, well, I’m not famous,” you said, taking the book from her and setting it back where it belonged. “I just wrote a book that people liked, that’s all.” 

“My dad said you wrote a book, I didn’t know it was a famous book,” she said. “Can I read it?” 

“Absolutely not,” you said, nudging her forward as the line moved. 

“Why not?” She pouted. 

“Because, as much as I love you and know how good of a reader you are, I wrote the book for adults,” you said. “You can read it in 10 years. Maybe.” 

“Well, will you tell me what it’s about?” She asked. 

You sighed, not entirely sure how to answer that question. At least, not to Sarah. 

“It’s…” you paused. “It’s about love and figuring out who you are with it and without it.” 

“Oh,” she crinkled her nose a little. 

“What?” You asked, laughing a little. 

“Sounds kinda boring,” she said. “Sorry.” 

You snorted. 

“No, you’re right,” you said. “It probably is boring.” 

You paid for the books, the person in line behind you stopping you on your way out the door to sign a copy of your book they’d just bought, Sarah beaming as she watched, and drove to Joel’s. 

You took a moment to steel yourself as you sat in his driveway. You hadn’t been in Joel’s house since you’d left. Any time you picked up or dropped off Sarah, you just sat in the car and waited for her to come to you or watched her until she was safely inside. You didn’t dare actually go in the house. That, you knew, was a bridge too far.

But you’d overcome bigger obstacles. You could do this, too. 

You pulled yourself together and followed Sarah inside. 

Nothing had changed. The blanket that was made by Joel’s mother was still draped on the end of the couch, his work boots were in a heap near the door, a beach towel from the pool was drying on a chair outside that you could just see through the sliding glass door. In spite of the knot in your stomach, this place felt like home. There was comfort here because the people you loved were here. 

“That you baby girl?” Joel called from down the hall. 

Your heart stuttered.

“It’s just me,” she called back.

You heard the telltale sounds of his footsteps as he made his way to the stairs. 

“For dinner, did you…” he said before he froze, looking up from his phone to find you standing there, in his living room. 

You smiled tightly. 

“Hi Joel.” 

***

You were here. 

In his living room, you were here. You were here and you weren’t ignoring him and maybe he hadn’t fucking ruined everything. You were here and holy fuck you looked good, just in shorts and a tank top and fuck, he wanted to touch you again. 

Instead, he just swallowed that driving want and cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter as he did. 

“Hey, Goldie.” 

You smiled. Not in that usual way you had, one that was quieter and stiller but still there. 

“I told Aunt Goldie that she should come over and stay for dinner,” Sarah said. 

“Oh,” Joel said, looking between you and Sarah. “Well, baby girl, Aunt Goldie’s been real busy lately and…” 

“She already said she could stay for dinner,” Sarah said, almost smirking. “And I know you guys aren’t in a fight because you’ve both said you’re not in a fight and you’d never lie to me about that, right?” 

Joel looked at you, a little desperate, and you just gave him a small shrug. 

“Right,” she finished for him. “So that means she can stay for dinner because there’s no reason she can’t and oh, look! Vanessa is calling me so I’m just going to go into my room until dinner is ready and talk with her and not listen to whatever you two are going to talk about. Bye!” 

She ran upstairs, taking them two steps at a time, leaving you and Joel standing there awkwardly in his living room. 

“Sorry,” he said at the same time you did and you both laughed awkwardly.

“She’s conniving, that one,” you said. 

“Little trickster,” Joel agreed. 

He just watched you for a moment, happy that he could see you - actually see you, not just picture you like he usually did now.  

“I should have called,” you said after you were both quiet for a moment. “I shouldn’t have just… It doesn’t matter that she wanted me to come over like this, I should have called and…” 

“No, it’s fine,” Joel said quickly. “You’re always welcome here, Goldie, you don’t need to call.” 

You smiled, small again, but it was there. 

“Thanks,” you said. “I should have at least brought something, though, I know you weren’t planning on me being here… I can just go, I don’t…” 

“Think we can find enough food in this house to feed three people,” he said, stepping closer, smiling a little. “Stay, if you want. I’d… I’d really like it if you stayed.” 

“OK,” you said and you smiled like you then, small at first but then wide and bright and welcoming. “Then yeah, I’ll stay.” 

Falling into you again was so fast and so easy. You followed him to the kitchen and the two of you made awkward, stilted conversation for a minute or two but, before long, you were perched on the counter while he made burger patties from the ground beef in the fridge as you told him how Ellie was doing and he told you what he’d been up to since you’d left. 

Which, he had to admit, he was embellishing a little because, without you and Ellie, his life had been pretty gray. 

After you left, it took a few days before it felt like he could do anything but take care of Sarah and stare at his phone. He’d texted you an apology, something he immediately regretted. He should have figured out a better way to say it instead of just “I’m sorry” and kept his mouth shut until he did. He kept hoping that you’d reply, that you’d give him a chance to say something better than “I’m sorry.” 

Eventually, he gave up and tried to figure out how to live without you again. It was harder than he’d expected it to be. He’d done it before when you’d gone more than just a few miles down the road and he’d lived through that, this shouldn’t have been any worse. But it was. 

Your lives had become so entangled, so in step, you were missing in everything he did. There were reminders of you everywhere and in everything, so much so that he needed an outlet. 

So, he started playing guitar more.

It hurt at first because, for some masochistic fucking reason, he kept being drawn to songs about heartbreak and loss. But eventually, he got to the point that he wanted to do something besides wallow. It took him some time to figure out what the fuck that meant but, eventually, he settled on the perfect thing: his business plan. 

Part of him wanted to believe that he was doing it only for himself. That this was what he wanted, it was the next step he needed to take to make his life - and the life he was building for his daughter - what he wanted it to be. 

But that wasn’t true, you were in this, too. This was what he needed to do to be worthy of you. Maybe, if he could actually fucking make something of himself, you’d want him the way he wanted you. 

So he’d put together the damn business plan. He put together the business plan and thought up a name and made an appointment at the bank to apply for the loan he’d need to start the company to begin with. He did everything he had to to make something of himself. He did it because he’d been wanting to be something since he’d first held his daughter. He did it because you gave him the courage and the drive to do it. 

He didn’t tell you that part of it but he did tell you about the business stuff and he couldn’t help but be a little proud as he did. 

But it was strange being close to you again like this, in ways that weren’t as intimate as they’d been just a few months before. He couldn’t just touch you as he cooked, trailing his hand up your thigh or his fingers over the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist where he could feel the pulse of you. Even with that odd distance, it felt like you should be close to him all the time, like he shouldn’t need to catch up with you like this because he should just know. He should just be living all of this with you.

“I’m so glad you guys aren’t fighting anymore,” Sarah said cheerfully when she finally emerged from her room for dinner, the three of you gathered around Joel’s table with cheeseburgers standing tall on your plates. 

You looked at Joel, brows raised and nose scrunched and he sighed before looking back at Sarah. 

“We weren’t fighting, baby girl,” he said. 

“Oh, sure,” Sarah nodded sarcastically. 

“He’s right. As much as I would love to just hang out with you and your dad all day, I’m afraid I do have a job,” you said. “And that means I have to be somewhere else at least some of the time.” 

“I’ve just decided that I’m not going to let you guys not talk to each other for my whole life again,” she said. “So say whatever you want, I’m just glad Aunt Goldie is back.” 

She got up and gave you both a squeeze. 

“I’m going to go do homework,” she said. 

“Believe that when I see it,” Joel scoffed. 

“And you guys have fun,” she said, ignoring you both before heading to her room. 

You watched her go, an amused smile on your face until you heard her bedroom door closed. 

“She is too smart for her own good, for the record,” you said. 

“Tell me about it,” Joel laughed. “Fuck if I know where she gets it from, too. Sure as hell ain’t me.” 

“You always underestimate yourself,” you smiled a little, watching him now. Joel shrugged. “Is it weird to say I’m proud of you? For the business stuff I mean?” 

“Nah,” Joel waved you off. “Not weird. Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Yes you could,” you said. “But I’m glad I got to be a part of it.” 

“Want to be more of a part of it?” He asked. “Because no one but me has read this business plan and, I’m not gonna lie to you Goldie girl, that’s making me pretty damn nervous.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d be happy to.” 

Joel just watched as you went through the documents, a serious look on your face, and you made some notes on scratch paper as you went, weirdly anxious about what you would say. Because what you thought mattered even more than the damn bank. 

“This is good,” you said when you finished, nodding slowly. “I have some questions but I think this is really good, Joel.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, brows raised. 

You smiled, one of your smiles, the ones he loved so much. 

“Yeah,” you said. “You’re getting that loan, Miller. You’re about to be Joel Miller, proud founder of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting, how’s it feel?” 

He laughed.

“Pretty damn good,” he said. “But I do want your notes, I really want to do something right for once in my damn life.” 

“Sure,” you laughed. “But I have had a beer and four glasses of iced tea since I’ve been here so I have to pee first. Think you can manage to wait for like… two minutes?” 

“I guess,” Joel groaned. “Cave to your basic human frailties, God you’re so lame.” 

You rolled your eyes at him but ran off to the bathroom and Joel watched you go, his eyes lingering on your ass and he tried to not picture you naked in his bed, remembering the way you looked when you slept naked and kicked the covers off in the night and he could see every inch of your skin beside him. 

Your phone vibrating on the table pulled him out of his own head and he was about to call your name when he frowned, seeing the name on screen. 

Gale was calling you. 

Fucking Gale. 

He watched it ring out, staring it down like it was a threat. 

What the fuck were you doing talking to fucking Gale? You weren’t speaking to the guy when you’d been staying at Joel’s. What was he doing calling you now? 

“Alright,” you said, clapping your hands together once before punching the air as you made your way back to the kitchen. “Let’s do this thing, Miller!” 

“Why is Gale calling you?” He asked. 

Your face fell. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“Gale,” he said, feeling himself get madder than he should. “The fucking asshole you’re supposed to be getting away from, Gale. Your ex-husband, Gale.”

“He’s not my ex-husband,” you said, shoving your hands in your back pockets and squaring your jaw. “We’re still married. And it’s not your business who I talk to…” 

“Not your ex-husband?” He asked. “And not my business? It’s not my business, right, great…” 

“Are we doing this again?” You asked, brows raised. “Really? You’re going to be pissed that I’m seeing someone…” 

“You’re fucking seeing him?” He asked, getting to his feet. “You’re getting back together with your ex-husband, the same one who treated you like shit? Jesus Christ, Goldie!” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” You snapped. “But I do know that he’s coming here tomorrow so we can talk and he’s going to help me with my book and…” 

“Why!” He cut you off. “Why the fuck are you going back to that… that… fucking asshole? Goldie, you’re so much BETTER than him! You don’t…” 

“He’s my husband, Joel!” You all but yelled. “He’s someone that I promised to be with for the rest of my life and that means something, I can’t just pretend it didn't happen! We’ve been talking and…” 

“And what?” Joel snapped. “What, he start manipulating you again?” 

“Again?” You asked, incredulous. “What do you mean again, you don’t know anything about our relationship, you don’t know what he was like then, what I was like then! You don’t know that part of my life, stop pretending like you do!” 

“And why don’t I know it, hm?” He asked, just pissed off now. “Tell me, why don’t I know that part of your life when I know all the others, why don’t I know that part?” 

“Don’t,” you said, sharp and cold. 

He didn’t listen. 

“Because you left! I don’t know because you left, you left me here like I was nothing, like I didn’t fucking matter to you and yeah, maybe I didn’t but…” 

“No, fuck you,” you spat. “You don’t get to pretend like you’re just some innocent in all this…” 

“Then what am I?” He demanded. “Tell me, I’m fucking dying to know how it’s my fuckin’ fault that you took off across the damn country, changed your damn number, blocked me on goddamn Facebook when I LOVED you…” 

“Don’t,” you said, tears at the edges of your eyes. “Don’t do that, don’t say that kind of shit to me…” 

“Say what?” He asked. “Tell you the truth? Because…” 

“Because I’m not just some girl you fuck and cast aside, Joel!” You got in his face, tears falling now. “So don’t feed me the same lines you feed them because it won’t work and it’s not fair to me or to our friendship and…” 

“What lines!” He asked. “I’m not feeding you any fucking lines, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“I heard you!” You yelled, breathless, forceful enough that Joel stepped back from you. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“I heard you,” you said. “When you were talking with Ricky, under the bleachers after prom, I heard you. I heard how much you regretted that night, I heard what you thought of me, I fucking heard you, Joel. So don’t act like you didn’t do anything, don’t act like I meant something to you because I know I didn’t. I know what I was, I know I was just some stupid girl you regretted fucking, I heard you. I know what I am to you, deep down, so forgive me if I’m not exactly desperate to talk through this shit with you. I’m sorry the fact that someone out there wants me, actually wants me, is so inconvenient for you!” 

You snatched your phone from the table and stalked toward the door. 

“No,” he said, going after you. “No, Goldie, listen, I…”

“I’m really not interested in hearing more of your bullshit, Joel,” you snapped. “I can’t, I just don’t have it in me to hear you talk about how much you regret me anymore.” 

You paused in the doorway, looking back at him as he scrambled to find a way to say something - anything - that would make you stay. 

“Good luck at the bank,” you said. “I’m sure you’ll get what you’re asking for.” 

You were gone before he had a chance to respond. 

A/N: I'm so sorry this took a million years. Thank you for being patient as my job put me through the wringer and grad school just beat me over the head repeatedly.

This was a BIG moment for Goldie in particular! She FINALLY said it, the reason why she left and why she thinks he doesn't want her. She reopened the wound and now the ball is in Joel's court. We'll see what he does with it :)

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[red-revival]

Pristine cut Fury is hitting everything I love about body horror and it's hitting hard... I'm gonna go on a long ramble below the cut. Not only did this update give us so much more wonderful gore, it also goes into the more psychological and emotional side of body horror that I love so much.

I'm so happy this exists, and that I get to see the same feelings I have about body horror in someone elses work. This is beautiful.

I got obsessed with body horror after developing several chronic illnesses one after the other. It was therapeutic. This new side to the Fury is perfectly reflecting everything I love about body horror.

Like yeah there's the gore and blood. But there's also the fear of losing the people you love because you can't recognize them or they cant recognize you anymore. There's the loss of autonomy and having your own will, living a life you can't escape because you weren't given a choice. There's the identity crisis, not knowing who you are without some kind of pain or complication. There's the ways that warps you and how you see yourself, how abuse and being trapped and hurt not only changes your mind but the constant living in survival mode physically warps your body.

Chronic fatigue and pain can develop because of trauma. It turns out spending years in survival mode with almost no chances to properly rest causes damage to your body, sometimes to your individual cells. Sometimes you don't ever recover from that damage.

And then there's the choosing to accept it. Coming to terms with being different, with having to live a different life that's not the one you were looking forward to. Accepting that you've changed, and the people around you have changed, and that the change is part of living. Accepting that you can't do what you used to be able to anymore. Accepting that you're nothing like the you that you recognize, and that maybe thats ok.

Moving on from the life you wanted and learning to live with what you are now.

Seeing all of these reflected in both the princess and the long quiet felt like being told I wasn't alone anymore. Like being really seen and understood for the first time since my health spiralled.

There are people like me, just as lost and trapped in their bodies as I am, just as traumatized by their health. Enough people like me, like us, that these thoughts and emotions are reflected back sometimes.

And the chapter ends like it always does. When everything is quiet again, you go to wipe the mirror clean. This time, it doesn't disappear.

This time, you can finally see your reflection staring back at you. You've grown.

[odxrilove]

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE — a p.sh smau

CHAPTER 4. stray kitten

ᰔ warnings: swearing, kys joke, SMAU + WRITTEN (1.6k wc) ᰔ author's notes: sorry for being absent!!! im back now hiihihi ^^

“hey sunghoon!” 

the loud bang of the metal door closing behind you resonates through the entire skating rink like an echo, followed by the sounds of your hurried footsteps, shortly muffled by the carpet at the entrance. 

his coach turns around towards you before he can, hands on his hips and a malicious smirk on his face as he watches you drop your bag on one of the benches before skipping to the railing, arms propped up. 

with a laugh, the older man comments, “you’ got an admirer already, huh?” 

you’re too far away from them to hear sunghoon grumble in return, ears turning red for a second before he makes his way over you, skating quickly as he hears his coach chuckle. 

when sunghoon hops off the ice and onto the cushioned floor to meet you, you grin, waving at him as you awe at his skating skills. 

his irritated tone almost makes your smile falter but you don’t show him how much he affects you. “what do you want yn?” 

“you act like we weren’t supposed to meet up today..” you cross your arms with a huff, walking away to sit on the nearest bench, next to his sports bag and jacket. 

you can see the gears turning in his head as he realizes what day it is and you can’t help but roll your eyes when he sighs and pushes his hair back, some strands sticking to his forehead from the sweat. 

“so? make it quick, i have practice, as you can see.” 

you pat the space on the bench next to you, telling him to sit but he just looks you straight in the eyes, eyebrows furrowed, until you give up, tightening your cardigan around you as you shiver slightly. “okay~” you whine a bit, dragging the word out, “i’ll be qui-” 

“ya! you loverbirds take all the time you two need!” your words get cut off when sunghoon’s coach hops off the ice too and slaps him on the back, almost making him tumble to the ground. he grins, pulling off his beanie and nodding your way before clapping the boy on the shoulder and walking past the both of you and into his office. 

whistling, he yells over his shoulder, “sunghoon, take a short break for your girlfriend, will you? i’m gonna grab some coffee for myself!” 

sunghoon stutters, ears turning red instantly. “sh-she’s not my- my girlfriend!” 

his retort falls on deaf ears, the glass door of his coach’s office closing shut before he can get the first word in. 

a few seconds pass in awkward silence as sunghoon stares at his coach enjoying his coffee, while you stare at him, pouting lightly while you wait for something- what, you don’t know.

“so…”

“yeah yeah, just tell me what you have to tell me.” 

— 

sunghoon would never admit it, but he’s actually quite impressed with what information you found out while snooping and digging. 

he doesn’t tell you that though, instead asking you if anything you learned and came to tell him actually helps the school project your group is doing, to which you obviously retort back that, yes, you’ve been working like crazy! 

he’s a bit lost honestly- why are you so invested in someone else’s love life? it’s natural to be curious, but to plan to pair people up and play cupid seems extra (jake would say it fits quite well actually, it being halloween month and all). 

your voice startles him out of his thoughts as you click your fingers in front of his face, clearly trying to get his attention. “hello? earth to sunghoonie~” 

he closes his eyes for a total of three seconds and pushes down the want to curse out the stupid nickname you’ve given him, crossing his arms and leaning against the railing. “so, if i got it right, jeongho keeps staring at minyoung with supposedly heart eyes and minyoung told you she wanted to have a boyfriend while pointing at jeongho?” 

you clap your hands excitedly, a huge grin breaking out on your face. “yes exactly!- no i mean, not exactly because well-” you break eye contact and pull out a notebook from your backpack, the many keychains and charms dangling from it clinking against each other. you continue rambling, flipping through the pages of your pink notebook (of course it’s pink), “like, minyoung didn’t really point at jeongho.. but- but she did look at him! and for jeongho, it wasn’t ‘supposedly’ heart eyes- he really did look at her like that and i know the look because when i was in tenth grade, i had this crush on this one guy-” 

sunghoon doesn’t even question your thought process anymore but he does question the notebook you’re holding in your hands, putting a hand in front of you to stop your rambling.

“wait, you wrote it down? in a notebook?” 

your eyes fall down to the two pages you’re currently on, multi-colored scribbles and tiny glittery stickers filling up the entire space. you look up at sunghoon again, smiling like always. “of course! how else is cupid supposed to plan the pairing ritual? i had to make a step by step guide with multiple backup plans in case plan A fails- which it won’t-”  

sunghoon looks bewildered and when you turn the notebook around and hold it in your lap proudly, he tells himself a straitjacket wouldn’t look too bad on you. 

“you’re not even cupid- for that matter, cupid doesn’t even exist!” his hands are in his hair and at this instant, he thinks he might be going crazy too. 

“how can you even say that? you’re literally my cupid in crime-” 

“you know what is a crime?! writing down personal information about people in a notebook to then use it against them-” 

“pffff- what do you know about the law!” you cross your arms, loudly huffing in protest and sunghoon can’t help but lean over the railing, putting his head in his hands in despair. “you hate love, that’s it.” 

that just makes sunghoon groan louder, running a hand down his face as he holds himself back from cursing you out (he can’t, his friends would kill him) or walking away (he can’t either, his coach would scold him).

he looks down at his sportwatch and realizes only eight minutes have passed since his coach left him to die at your hands, to which he sighs, because “coach’s coffee breaks usually last thirteen minutes” and he isn’t sure if he’s willing to hear you out even a tiny bit more on your nonsense. 

“so, moving on.” sunghoon watches as your mouth opens to object but he’s quicker, “i said, moving on. anything new for the project?” 

once again, sunghoon watches your mouth open, waiting for any sound to come out as you gape up at him, just before an invisible light bulb switches on above your head and you stumble to grab another notebook out of your bag. 

for the second time that day, sunghoon’s impressed with all the information you’ve gathered. 

for the next three minutes, you hastily explain what you’ve found and how and he can only nod and hum in approval, letting a ‘good job’ slip out near the end. he doesn’t really look you in the eye after, a bit embarrassed at how quick you went from quarreling about matchmaking to agreeing about statistics.

he doesn’t miss the way your smile widens at his little slip-up though. 

when his sportwatch finally announces it’s nearing the end of the thirteen minute of coach’s coffee break, sunghoon stands up straight and stretches, walking back to hop on the ice again. 

he watches as his coach comes out of his office and greets you before he brings his whistle to his mouth, waddling over to the ice, “young man, you’re not offering your jacket to your girlfriend? that poor girl is shivering to death.” 

“coach, she’s not my girlfriend..” 

“alright, but she’s still cold.” 

sunghoon doesn’t really move from his spot in the middle of the skating ring, awkwardly shuffling around as his coach stares at him. it isn’t long before he gives up and sighs, resignedly calling out to you and vaguely pointing at his jacket on the bench next to you. “yn.. that’s my jacket there.. use it if you’re cold or something…” 

at the sound of your name being called, you look up, confused, until your eyes follow his finger and fall on his jacket. you meekly thank him, hurriedly grabbing his jacket and slipping it on, the sleeves covering your hands and the fluffy hood tickling your cheeks and neck. 

after having warmed up a bit, you go back to working on the project, deciding to stay at the ice skating rink while you study, nose buried in some textbooks you had borrowed from the library earlier. 

sunghoon doesn’t directly look away from you, a bit stunned that you’re actually wearing his jacket now, but then his coach coughs, pushing him with his shoulder as he pulls out a training sheet. “see, that’s how you treat a lady.” 

“can we just go back to practice?” 

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE 🍰

ᰔ synopsis: when bubbly yn gets assigned to work on a group project with three other people, two of whom are hopelessly but obviously in love, she decides that she has no other option than to help the two lovebirds get together! Playing matchmaker is easier in a team, but getting her seemingly always cold and grumpy third project partner park sunghoon to help her seems more difficult than she would have liked.. Whatever, yn would move mountains for love to succeed!

series masterlist. — next. — prev.

taglist: @moonkyeom @aquadios @aewon @seokmn @loveyhoons @neos127 @purennn @jlheon @junnysbae @bearseulgs @hoonie-zzz @jazminethecreator @soobinbunnie5 @atrirose @isoobie @boyfhees @mrkified @neozon3nha @viciousdarlings @wigglyasparagus @charlizefaye @hoonatic @sinisxtea @caaaptaaainamericaaa @sol3chu @wonwonluvie @mumeimei @seunghancore @realrintaro @lilifiedeans @starfallia @i03jae @kyanmeai @sunkiwon @snwvee @joyzluvr @heeheesang @nctrawberries @jjunae @maesvtr0 @viagumi @polarisjisung @aeminju @noiiny @rairaiblog @luvyouloser @sunghoonsgfreal @strayy-kidz @thea-herondale @7thgyu (send an ask or comment to be added!)

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Novel Dialogue

Speech in a novel is different from real life

Novel dialogue - is not like reality, where much of what we say is of little consequence to the bigger picture of our lives.

Check that all your dialogue needs to be there, then remove the mundane.

Artful dialogue - requires balancing realism with engagement.

Ensure that every word spoken by a character pushes the novel forward rather than making the reader feel like they’re eavesdropping on a mundane conversation at the bus stop.

Every line of dialogue should have a purpose. If it doesn’t, it shouldn’t be there.

A 3-Pronged Approach to Dialogue

One way of assessing whether dialogue is working is to think in terms of:

voice,

mood and

intention.

When we focus on these three things, we avoid dull dialogue – conversations about the weather, how someone takes their tea or coffee, and courtesy statements such as ‘Hi, how are you?’

VOICE

Tells us who characters are, what makes them tick – their fears, frustrations, hopes and dreams, identity, preferences.

Perhaps their speech is abrupt, rude, measured, polite, sweary or seductive.

When we change the way a character speaks, we change their voice. And that means we change them.

MOOD

Characters can show us how they’re feeling via their dialogue.

Emotionally evocative speech allows readers to access the internal experience of a non-viewpoint character. And that makes it a powerful tool.

Perhaps their speech is abrupt, assertive, hesitant, forceful, pleading. Using the right words means the speech tags and narrative won’t need to be cluttered with further explanation.

INTENTION

Another way of framing subtext.

How characters speak tells us what they want.

Perhaps they’re asking questions for the purpose of discovery & understanding whodunit (doctors, lawyers, private investigators, and police officers regularly use dialogue in novels to this end). Dialogue can express a multitude of motivations.

Ask yourself what your character wants every time they open their mouth.

To declutter dialogue and make every word count, ask yourself the following:

Is every line relevant to the story?

Is the character speaking with purpose or taking up ink/pixels on the page?

Can mundane chitchat be removed without damaging sense and flow?

Could the dull stuff be replaced with speech that deepens character?

Example

A real, but mundane dialogue:

Laurie comes back to the office with me for a meeting with Kevin. These meetings are basically of dubious value, since all we seem to do is list the things we don’t understand in our preparation for a trial we don’t know will even take place. “Hi, Kevin,” I say. “Hey, Andy. How you doin’?” “Not too bad, thanks. Christ, it’s cold out though. I need something to warm me up. Gonna grab a coffee. Want one? Laurie, you?” Kevin nods. Laurie says, “Please. Milk and sugar.” “So Kevin,” I say as I hand around the drinks, “we need to talk about Petrone.” It’s the first chance I’ve had to tell Kevin about my meeting with the guy. I fill him in. When I get to the part where Petrone denied trying to have me killed, Kevin asks, “And you believed him?” “I did.” “Just because that’s what he said?” I nod. “As stupid as it might sound, yes. I’ve had dealings with him before, and he’s always told me the truth, or nothing at all. And he had nothing to gain by lying.” “Andy, the guy has had a lot of people murdered. How many confessions has he made?”

Turning it into Novel Dialogue...

This is how author David Rosenfelt actually wrote this excerpt from Play Dead (Grand Central, 2009, p. 175):

Laurie comes back to the office with me for a meeting with Kevin. These meetings are basically of dubious value, since all we seem to do is list the things we don’t understand in our preparation for a trial we don’t know will even take place. It’s the first chance I’ve had to tell Kevin about my meeting with Petrone. I fill him in. When I get to the part where Petrone denied trying to have me killed, Kevin asks, “And you believed him?” “I did.” “Just because that’s what he said?” I nod. “As stupid as it might sound, yes. I’ve had dealings with him before, and he’s always told me the truth, or nothing at all. And he had nothing to gain by lying.” “Andy, the guy has had a lot of people murdered. How many confessions has he made?”

Rosenfelt knows that none of his readers care about the weather, the tea, or whether people say hello to each other or not. And so he leaves all of that out and lets the reader imagine that this stuff took place. And it’s enough.

In the published novel, the first line of speech is “And you believed him.” With that, we’re straight into Kevin’s incredulity and concern, and his desire to understand what the team is dealing with in regard to Petrone.

Meanwhile, Andy has his lawyer hat on. His initial reply is succinct, so that we are left in no doubt about his belief that Petrone was telling the truth, and that he is determined to reassure Kevin.

This is no-messing dialogue that focuses on story, not whether the speech is what we might actually hear – in its entirety – in real life. It’s an excellent example of an author ensuring that every word counts and that there’s no bus-stop-talk filler.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Tips & Advice

[blackholesun321]

Shanks Doesn’t Have A Dream! And I Can Prove It!

Ok, y’all, can I talk my shit again? Because I have thoughts and feels about our good old one-armed favorite disaster of a party pirate, Akagami (Red-Haired) Shanks. I’m going to be completely honest: I may have had this rant before, but I can’t find it, and no one else has this take. I need to talk about my vision of him that I’m like 60/40 percent sure is correct canon-wise and would explain so many of his—let’s call them quirks.

I think one of Oda’s beliefs and the teachings that One Piece has so blatantly told us about, such as personal freedom, charting your own destiny, and making your own adventure along the way, are a reflection of Shanks’ character as someone who never got that chance and never would. That, to me, makes him one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Let me cook here. I’m not going to cite anything because I don’t want to, and I do that enough already in college, so we’re running on trust me: I’ve read the manga and watched a lot of theory videos. So lock in because this is gonna be long.

Anyways, back to my thesis. Shanks is a character of contradictions. He was the youngest person to ever become a Yonko (but then Luffy came in), probably one of the strongest men of his generation. He regularly fought the world’s strongest swordsman for fun. He has a crew whose members each have over a million bounties on their own and are so physically or politically strong that they can stop a war in its tracks just by waltzing in and saying "stop." Not only that, he stopped Kaido in his tracks and made him turn around. His father was the Pirate King and claimed him as his successor; he could even be tied to the Celestial Dragons. He’s charismatic, and when things need to get done, he gets down to business.

On the other hand, he’s also a goofy guy who regularly gets blackout drunk, has a horrible sense of pant style, parties his life away, and thinks bullying kids is the height of comedy. He cares about his kid to the point that he forgets to be a responsible Yonko but also wants to fight him for the One Piece. He seems so blasé about everything but is obviously, in the background, making connections and being all sneaky about something; he has plans but also didn’t decide to go after the One Piece until after his prime. He’s been stagnant but moving and shaking around the world, all for some big ideal, some big plan, something huge.

It is my stance, idea, theory, if you will, that all this makes sense if you look at it from the viewpoint that nothing—not the planning, not stealing the fruit, not the power growth, or making his way to Yonko status, not building his crew, even the hurry-up-and-wait—he’s been doing all these years, his whole life? Is because he’s hasn’t made a single decision for himself since Gol D. Roger died.

Outrageous! You cry! Shanks, a man who supposedly spouts on about being free and charting your own course and being a pirate? Is none of those things? Impossible, you will say. I will ask you how you got into my house and to please leave. But aside from the pirate bit, yes, and I can prove this. Calm my chili-baby’s and listen.

Yes, Shanks had his life taken from his adventure, his destiny set and marked right before the Loguetown execution. It is my belief that all this can be laid at the feet of—drumroll, please—Gol D. Roger himself!

Gasp! Crying! Fainting in the audience! I know, what a twist. Let me explain. In a flashback, we see Roger talking about Ace. It was Roger’s belief that Ace (his child) would be the savior of the world, the new Joy Boy, destined to destroy the World Government with what they learned from the Poneglyphs and Laugh Tale. He believed their generation was too early and that the next would usher in the new world. Ace would be his true successor. A little narcissistic, but a man like Roger probably couldn’t help but be. Not just that but it probably felt prophetic he found Laugh Tale of course that had to mean something?He was also dying as it was and put things in place for Ace to survive. He told Garp where he was so Garp could take him away with Rouge—a safety net, that sure was useful. Once she ya know, died.

With the understanding that the next generation would usher in the new age, Roger took aside a thirteen-year-old Shanks and revealed everything. He told him about the birth of the new Joy Boy, everything about Laugh Tale, and how he believed his son would usher in this age. I believe he gave Shanks this purpose: to pass on the straw hat to his son and help him become a man strong enough to fight the World Government. I think little traumatized Shanks, who is about to lose his father and has had the weight of the world put on his shoulders, takes it to heart and buries everything he is to fulfill his captain's last wish. And that’s horrible. I’ll get into the psychological implications later, but holy shit, Roger, what the fuck? He’s thirteen! And about to watch you die!

But yeah, doesn’t this make sense? Why the hell when Buggy wanted to go after the One Piece, did Shanks hold back and say they should wait, losing his brother because he has a secret his captain entrusted him with. Why the hell did they know about the Gum Gum Fruit and were searching for it? Why did Shanks spend so long on a little island like Fousha in the East Blue? Not only was he looking for the fruit, but he was also looking for Ace! (And maybe Rouge.)

Why has he been making all these connections but doing jack shit with them? Why did he become a Yonko but claim no territory for fucking years on end and do nothing really with his status? Why does he rely on such a small crew of such powerful individuals? Why does he party his life away, seem almost aimless, and not start to go after the One Piece until Luffy reaches Gear 5?

Because he’s the one to pass on the legacy; he’s the placeholder, a cog in the proverbial machine that is fate. He made sure Joy Boy would exist. And now that the dominoes have been placed and are falling fast, he’s going to challenge Luffy and make sure he’s strong enough to fight for it—strong enough to take on the World Government, the Celestial Dragons, and Imu—and then hand him a big red button to help do it afterward. That button will be all the sneaky shit he’s been doing in the background.

He’s been the bridge between his captain and this new age. Sure, it was too early, but his influence rippled out through the people he trusted and touched in his life. The same way Rayleigh trained Luffy, knowing what he was preparing him for in the next part of his journey, waiting years for him to arrive at Sabaody.

And all that needed to happen was the dreams, adventures, and sacrifices of a young boy. It’s almost poetic—a son for a son (or sun, in this case). My therapist says I make light of dark shit so I don’t have to emotionally feel the pain.

And now we get into the sad portion of today’s episode. Prepare the tissues because this is why I think Shanks is one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Because think about it: Shanks’s life was charted for him; his adventure and future were stolen, decided with the reveal of Laugh Tale and all the secrets around it—everything, all so the next generation could one day rise up and bring a new dawn. Shanks never got to have a dream because it was stolen from him. He’s a walking, talking empty automaton, fulfilling his captain's dying promise made by a grieving thirteen-year-old.

He is dreamless, and for a man who is, in some sense, the freest in the world—can go anywhere, can do anything, is powerful enough to stop wars—he’s still trapped, chained to a future he can only wait for.

I don’t think he knows who he is outside of this. I don’t think he thinks he’ll live beyond it. (Which like I will fucking cry because this is gonna be kinda true.) I don’t even want to call it an ambition. Duty, maybe. Damned promise, more likely. And it’s ruined every relationship outside of it he’s ever had. Aside from one—

(Don’t even get me started on him and Mihawk and miscommunication, failed expectations, and Mihawk being the epitome of everything Shanks isn’t. With his dream chasing to the ends of the world, ending up unfulfilled and alone. Finding companionship and what he thought were similar drives in each other, but once Shanks lost his arm and his hat, he realized Shanks was never fighting for something he wanted. And it broke him a little; it broke their relationship—one of the only relationships Shanks chose for himself, with nothing to do with his mission.

And Buggy—he gave up his brother, was forced to leave him alone, and couldn’t say anything, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t destroy his dream. And he couldn’t even be selfish enough to make him stay. Like, oh my God, the drama.)

Doomed yaoi aside, the only thing and person I think that messed up his perfectly made plans is Luffy.

Sweet baby Luffy wasn’t so sweet before the Red Force arrived. In the manga, it is mentioned that he was an angry, bitter child, lashing out almost like Ace to a degree. But Shanks, by just being kind, by being good, and by reaching out and teasing this little ball of anger, transforms him, saves him in a way. He gives him a drive, a dream, and a morality to live by. He gives him everything he never got—everything stripped from him. Shanks turns him into the type of person a special kind of Devil Fruit might call out to and get eaten by.

Nika chose Luffy because Shanks saved him by just being good and kind, giving this kid something beyond his anger and bitterness. Shanks gave Luffy the idea of freedom, and in return, he allowed Shanks’s perfectly clear mission to shatter. I think this Shanks makes the first real decision in his life: he goes, "Fuck, well, we’re backing this horse now," and Luffy becomes his child—not his captain's, but his future to bet on and help grow.

And I fucking love that. Luffy saves him just as he saved Luffy, in a way. And that’s his kid, his successor, more than it ever was for Roger. I will die on this hill. (If you want, you can even look at it as Shanks finally choosing a dream all his own and it’s Luffy.)

Will Oda see it this way? Probably not. He has a habit of brushing off stuff like this; I think he’ll make Shanks’s character into a noble man dedicated to stopping the World Government and not even think about the implications of tying all that to him at such a young age. But I do think Shanks expects to die when Luffy comes to fight; I think he wants to, just how Mihawk wants to die from Zoro’s blades. Because what is there beyond this? (And again, parallels!)

And I believe he will live! (Not Mihawk—he's gonna die.) Shanks will live, and symbolically, Luffy will free him from this self-imposed duty, this promise made by a child. Shanks will have made, even unwittingly, the thing that would free him, allowing him to move forward in a world where all the purposes he needs to find are his own.

And holy shit, that’s a lot for him, but then Blackbeard will happen, and he’ll die only having known freedom for a short while. Luffy will cry and create a new dawn, and it won’t be for nothing—except it will be for everything to Shanks.

In conclusion, Shanks doesn’t have a dream of his own. He never had a dream; if he did, it was squashed out of him in order to fulfill a promise set by his father, Gol D. Roger.

He loses his brother, loses his control over his destiny, and as his father sets such things into motion, Ace, Roger’s child, will become the new Joy Boy.

He makes a connection with someone outside of that mission and purpose, and in doing so, creates the opportunity for his own freedom and his own choice in Luffy.

Later down the line, Nika/Luffy will eventually free him in the same way he created his own freedom back then, giving him a new choice going forward. They will free him from the mission that was placed on his shoulders as a thirteen-year-old child, and afterwards, he will consequently be killed by Blackbeard, and everything will be horrible, and we will all cry. The end.

I hope everyone enjoyed this thesis on Shanks. Feel free to use it and steal it to your hearts content. I would love to write more if anyone has any questions or things they want to ask; I will be opening up my ask box for questions. I would love to go into more detail on his relationship with Luffy, his rivalry with Blackbeard, and how that ties into all of this, as well as his relationship with Mihawk (fuck man the parallels!!) or maybe Buggy. (Which I have less on it’s just really tragic.)

[ncsdlr]

Bite Me

- Kinktober Day 5 -

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

------------

The last thing you remembered was having fun on your walk. And then so suddenly, you were squealing for your life as arms wrapped around your body, one hand over your mouth to muffle the panicked sounds you made.

Then a certain scent filled your nose and then boom- bitch was knocked the fuck out. Next thing you knew you lying on a bed- not your bed but a bed. The sheets were soft and velvety, and you were tucked into it rather nicely. Like your captor cared enough keep you warm and comfortable.

As your eyes fleet around the room, you gazed upon old-timey trinkets and paintings. This captor sure liked old things. perhaps this person is a collector of some sort? Well, we definitely know he likes to collect humans.

But that's not why you were here. You're soon to find out that your captor is a woman. The most beautiful one you'd ever seen in your whole life. She had beautiful long red hair, curled to perfection. Her outfit was nothing short of sexy.

Well, as sexy as a one-piece thing could be, but you know...

Either way, it fit her so well. It hugged her curves just right as she sauntered her way to the bed, sitting close to you with a poker face. You didn't say anything- merely staring at the woman nor did you move because somehow a part of you didn't really feel any fear towards the woman.

Seeing this, the woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowing just the slightest bit at you. She analyzed you, trying to read the thoughts behind your adorably sleepy eyes. As she soon realized that there seemed to be nothing she could do to make you fear her, she questioned, "Why do you seem to be devoid of fear of me, little doe?"

You blinked and rubbed at your eyes, twisting in the sheets, and, without even realizing it, wrapped your arm around the woman's waist. "You don't look scary," was your simple response before burying your face into the pillow.

The woman said nothing and did nothing, looking into space in thought. "I am a vampire," she paused, using her senses to find the reaction you'd give. "Are you scared of me now?"

You mumbled a no, burying your face close to the vampire's stomach before peeking one eye out, "Are you gonna bite me now?"

The woman looked down at you. looking into the one eye you peered up with to look up at her, "No," she answered.

You sighed and buried your face in the woman's tummy again, "See? Not scary."

****

The two of you were having a nice lunch. The food was good. Thoroughly cooked steak with string beans and mashed potatoes on the side; delicious.

You were so engrossed in the food that you hadn't noticed the Vampire wasn't really eating anything. She merely drank the wine her servants had served her.

She was always watching you. Even now. Her eyes were always on you, watching all that you did. If you were sleeping, she would be on a chair nearby, still very blatantly watching you. If you were running around outside, chasing some cat or being chased by a dog, she was watching.

She also watched you in the shower.

Nothing sexual or anything.

She just watched.

Stood in a corner.

And watched.

That was also when she told you her name=D

The first time that happened; you thought was weird, but honestly, you got used to it the more it happened. That statement applies to many of the things she would watch you do.

Currently, she was watching you eat. She had placed her wine down just a second ago- not that you really noticed -and started just blatantly watching you. Then she stood and rounded the length of her dining table, coming around to the seat to your left.

As you went to take a bite, the vampire took your forearm in her grasp. You groaned slightly and turned your head to face her as you asked in a whiny voice, "What?"

"I must feed."

You blinked at the woman, not really sure how to respond. "You...you must feed..me- is that what you mean?"

Natasha shook her head at you before she spoke again, "You must feed me."

"Ah, yes, of course." you took your forearm from her hold and started scooping up your food, making sure to take a generous slice for her. But you were interrupted again by Natasha's hand gently wrapping around your forearm.

"Vampires do not ingest food."

Realization befell your features before confusion did, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water to emphasize that. "Wh...How- What do I...You want to feed- uhmm, from me- m..my blood?"

You were adorable. Your stutter was bringing Natasha amusement, and at that point in time, she smiled a tiny smile, but still a smile. "Yes, I want your blood. It shall suffice the hunger I feel."

You took your time as you thought about it. It was tempting, sure, but would it hurt? Definitely. I mean, you're getting two holes poked in your neck- or somewhere else -what are you thinking, Y/N?

"I- will it hurt?" Natasha nodded, "What do I...How do I feed you?"

Natasha pulled your forearm closer to her, pressing light kisses from the tips of your fingers to your palm, and to your wrist, pressing a final kiss there.

You watched this all pan out, keeping your eyes on the path Natasha's lips made with bated breath. The air in your lungs seemed to have been knocked out as Natasha looked up at you through hooded eyes. Natasha's lips were so soft and gentle on your skin- honestly making you want more.

"May I?" She asked, and even though you were nervous and doubtful, you wanted to try it. They really meant it when they said that curiosity kills that cat.

So, you nodded, signaling for Natasha to feast on her meal. You breathed through your nose, savoring the breeze that you breathed in.

Natasha smirked just the slightest bit before parting her lips and baring her sharp fangs at the skin of your wrist. When her teeth finally pierced your skin, you gasped, your arm flinching away slightly as a stabbing pain shot through your nerves. Your brows knit together as you feel the suction of Natasha's lips around the wound she cut on you.

The experience for Natasha was exhilarating. The taste of your blood was so sweet with just the right hint of copper, and it was incredible. If only you knew that after this moment, you will be wholly Natasha's.

****

The coming days after that went by like normal. The only difference now, is that ever meal-breakfast, lunch, and dinner -Natasha would feed from you. It would leave you weak and trembling sometimes, but honestly, you were kinda living for it.

Her bites would always sting at first, and then you'd feel a strange tingling between your legs. You always ignored those feelings thinking that it was probably a side effect of vampire bites.

Little did you know, ever time you'd feel that tingling at the apex of your thighs, Natasha would smell the evidence of it. That's why sometimes she'd take a little too long when feeding from you.

The smell would sometimes take over her mind, and it would make her crave for you more. She'd feel a more intense type of hunger- a hunger she feared would be too much to ask for from her personal blood bag.

If she asked, you'd definitely say yes to it. I mean, it's been a while since you've been properly fuck. And when would a vampire even be able to find someone to hook up with? Certainly not when they're Natasha Romanoff- head of the eldest vampire clan in all of New York.

You didn't mind the tingling feeling at all. One time you even thought of exploring that feeling. Right now, it's feeding time. But strangely, neither of you was in the dining area. You and Natasha found yourselves in her master chamber, sitting on your knees in front of each other, your forearm in her cold hand.

"I have never told you, but I can smell you, Y/N."

You blinked- you blink a lot in kinktober -looking her in the eyes as confusion clouds you, "You can smell me- How can you smell me?"

"Your arousal," your breath hitched. "I can smell your arousal, Y/N."

You sighed, "I don't...What do I do?" You honestly felt so stupid. You didn't understand what to do with that information. Your heart was beating in your chest wildly, and you could hear every single beat in your ears.

But Natasha simply responded with, "What do you want to do? Because I can help you with your arousal...I could fuck you until you ask me to stop, or we could just sit here and you'll suffer through your arousal alone."

Your breathing increased in pace as you continued to maintain eye contact with the Vampire. the thought was tempting, and you really wanted to do it. It was like every time Natasha bit you to feed, your hormones would explode, and really, right now, you needed her to fuck you.

You whimpered as your thoughts ran wild. Your brain conjured up the most sinful of images. You thought what you could do if you were to accept her offer of fucking you.

In the end, you responded with, "I want your help."

Natasha hummed, now looking at her bite marks on your arm thoughtfully, "What kind of help do you want?"

You internally groaned because this woman definitely knew what kind of help you needed. She was certainly jut playing coy to further tease you, so inevitably your response came as, "I want you to fuck me."

****

And fuck you she did.

She felt good, too.

Her fingers curled perfectly against the spongy spot in your sodden pussy, eliciting the most delicious moans from you. Natasha kept pressing kisses to the entirety of your body- from your face, down to your neck, and down to the swells of your breasts.

The sudden tightening of your pussy around her fingers caught her attention, bringing the slightest smirk to her supple lips. "Am I gonna make you cum, sweetheart? Does this feel good for you, too?"

As you went to answer, the beginning of your words broke into a long moan. The vampire had curled her fingers with more force at that moment, causing you to struggle with your words. "A-ah...it feels- ah, good... gonna make me cum- fuck...so hard."

Natasha hummed and kissed her way down your body, her fingers maintaining their pace. As she reached your chest, she sucked your nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. The sensations cause the little hairs on your skin to stand, shivers running through your nerves as her cold touch reached you.

"I'm gonna cum, Natasha!" You shakily warned as the coil in your tummy tightened, feeling the pull between your legs getting stronger and stronger by the second. It was like a burning pleasure in you as Natasha fucked you with her fingers and sucked on your nipples.

"Cum," she commanded, her lips never parting from your nipples.

Your hands found the tresses of Natasha's hair, gripping her there as you prepared yourself for the pleasure you were about to surrender to. Your throat stratched as a strangled moan emits out of you, your back arching as you orgasm all over Natasha's fingers.

"Fuck," you sighed as you caught your breath, looking down at Natasha as she finally released your nipple from between her lips. "You really helped me there, miss vampire woman."

Natasha chuckled and kissed her way up to your lips, looking into pecking your lips multiple times before finally speaking, "Y/N, I'm not done yet. My help proceeds that of just one orgasm."

The vampire sat up on her knees, lowering herself just enough as she ran her eyes over your bare form. "tell you what," she began. "I will make yu cum one more time before I allow you to rest up."

Immediately, you nodded, biting your lip waiting for the next wave of pleasure to take over you. Natasha pecked your lips one last time before she eagerly sucked marks down your skin as she reached the pool of shameless wetness between your legs.

All so suddenly, Natasha bit into your thigh at the same time she plunged her fingers back into you. Your back arched as a long moan emits out of your parted lips. Unknowingly, drool drips from the corners of your lips as you feel the blood rushing out of your thigh and into Natasha's mouth.

Natasha released your thigh from her mouth and curl her finger in you. Then the vampire pressed a kiss to your hip before she bit into you.

"God, yes, Natasha- ahh, bite me...everywhere plesse."

Natasha hummed as shefed from your hip, herfingers never losing their pace. It was the perfect blend of a sharp sting and a burning pleasure, and it was taking you over the edge of your high.

"You're gonna make me cum...Natasha-"

You were so close. Just one more little curl of her fingers in you would bother trick and push you into an orgasm. But the final curl of Natasha's finger in you was greatly generous, the vampire had even stopped her feeding just to suck your pulsing clit into her mouth.

You didn't have an orgasm. The orgasm had you. And my god, did it make you so beautiful. That's what Natasha thought as she kept on sucking on your clit to help you ride your high.

When Natasha pulled out of you, a spurt of your cum squirted out of you, further drenching her hand and pooling her palm. She sucked the whole thing up like it was soup, and it was so hot- no pun intended.

You watched the whole thing pan out, groaning under your breath as you thought, this is definitely not the last time this happens.

To your surprise, Natasha smirked, having heard your thoughts. So with- now -red eyes, she responded, "Definitely not the last time."

You both chuckled at that. Slowly, you sat up on your knees in front of her and reached to caress her cheek, "Natasha," You called out softly.

Natasha hummed as a response, urging you to proceed, "I wan' you to bite me."

Natasha's eyes flicked upto meet yours as she asked, "You know what that will do to you, yes?"

You nodded and said again, "I want you to bite me."

Natasha came closer to you, one of her legs between yours now as she held your neck with a delicate hand. The vampire ran her red eyes along the length of your throat, seeing how the puls in your neck was strong and quick.

She hummed and leaned forward, noting the way your breathing picked up the pace as she kissed and licked at your neck. You took a deep breath in to calm yourself, but that was in vain because just as air began to filter into your lungs, Natasha plunged her sharp fangs into the vein in your neck.

The woman stole your breath. Literally. And that final bite sealed your fate that night. You were hers, wholly. You're not just her blood bag anymore. You were hers.

Her property.

[massivedrickhead]

Pitch Perfect SpookFest Day 5 - H is for Hike

Words: 9282

Summary: Beca takes Chloe on a hike she used to do with her Dad. It’s a chance for Beca to feel closer to him, and a chance to introduce Chloe to one of her former favourite pastimes. Beca soon discovers that there is more than just memories hiding in the trees.

Notes: Buckle up boys, this one’s a long one! I’ve really let myself have free reign with the horror in this one, and haven’t held myself back at all. I mentioned previously that I’ve been reading almost exclusively horror this year, and Adam Nevill’s The Ritual was one of my favourites, and the setting of this was definitely a little inspired by that.

@pitch-perfect-spookfest

Read on AO3

-

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“You doing okay?”

“Uh huh. A little tired.”

Beca’s hands clenched and unclenched around the straps of her backpack, her shoulders burning under the weight of it. 

“We can stop if you need a break?”

“No, I’m good,” Beca said, turning to smile at Chloe. “This is just a bit more physically demanding than I remember it.”

Chloe smiled back and they continued to walk.

“I’m glad you told me to wear these boots for a few weeks at home first,” Chloe said, taking hold of Beca’s hand as she helped her step down a particularly craggy rock. “I think a blister out here would finish me off.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I remember Sheila learning that lesson the hard way. I honestly thought her and my Dad were gonna divorce right there and then.”

“How is Sheila?” Chloe asked. 

Beca shrugged. “I dunno. Better, I think, now that we’re doing this. She didn’t like him just being stuck on a shelf.” As if on instinct, Beca reached a hand around to press against the front of her pack, pushing against the tightly packed interior, trying to feel for the small, hard, object that was wrapped safely in the centre. It hardly weighed a thing, but was the heaviest item she carried.

“I don’t think you’ve lost him,” Chloe said. 

“No, I know,” Beca said, removing her hand. “But it’d be so embarrassing if we got all the way up there and it turns out I left him on a tree-stump near the parking lot.”

Chloe laughed and took hold of Beca’s hand again, this time for no other reason than just to hold it. 

“We’d have to just grab him on our way back and tell Sheila we did it.”

It was Beca’s turn to chuckle now. “Damn, lying to a widow about where her husband’s ashes are scattered? Pretty dark.”

“Better than having to do this hike again,” Chloe replied, squeezing Beca’s hand to let her know she was joking. “Are we much further from where you wanted to set up camp?”

“I don’t think so,” Beca said, removing the map from the plastic pouch hung around her neck. She knew where on the map they needed to be, and had a pretty good idea of where they currently were. “Maybe another hour and a half? We should have enough time to get everything set up before dark.”

Chloe nodded and they carried on following the trail. 

Beca had done this hike more times than she could count. At one time in her life, she’d have been able to do it blindfolded, her feet knowing where to step without any input from her brain.

Now, however, it had been almost a decade since she’d last been here, and she found herself checking the map more often than she really needed to. The whole place felt totally unchanged and yet completely different at the same time. It was like she was viewing it from another angle. Through a different lens. It felt like something was missing.

It dawned on Beca that something was missing.

For the first time in her life, she was walking this trail without her Dad walking beside her.

She tugged on the straps of her bag again, feeling them dig into her already sore shoulders, and she focused on that pain because if she didn’t she’d start crying. 

-

Despite being a little out of practice, Beca managed to set up their tent without much trouble. It was as if her hands knew what to do even if she didn’t quite remember the steps. 

“I love watching you be all outdoorsy,” Chloe said, as Beca slid tent poles through eyelets and hammered stakes into the ground. 

“Oh yeah?” Beca asked. “Is this turning you on?”

Chloe laughed. “A little.”

“If I’d known that’s all it took, I’d have taken you camping sooner.”

That night they ate a dinner of ramen cooked on their gas stove, and they watched the stars begin to appear above their heads. 

Beca lit a small fire to keep them warm, and they huddled together under one blanket, sharing a small cup of spiked hot chocolate. 

“Thank you for doing this with me,” Beca said, her head on Chloe’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Chloe replied, her head resting on top of Beca’s. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know this isn’t your kind of thing.”

“Maybe not,” Chloe said. “But I’m glad I’m here with you.”

They kissed, finished their hot chocolate, and Chloe crawled into their tent while Beca put out the fire. 

Far off in the trees, she heard a branch snap. 

A deer, she told herself. Just a deer.

She joined Chloe in the tent and zipped it up after her with a little more urgency than necessary. 

Their solar-charged camping lamp was shoved in the corner of the small tent, turned to its dimmest settings. 

“Can we keep it on?” Chloe asked, climbing into her sleeping bag. “It’s, like, insanely dark out here.”

“Of course,” Beca said, unable to shake the feeling of unease that, with the lamp on, their tent would shine like a beacon in this pitch black forest. 

Beca didn’t realise how tired she was until she was wrapped in her own warm and comfortable sleeping bag. 

“Night Chlo’,” she mumbled, suddenly unable to keep her eyes open. 

“Night Bec,” Chloe replied. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

-

By the time Chloe woke up the next morning, Beca was already up and preparing their breakfast of oatmeal and sweet, strong, coffee. 

“Morning,” Chloe said, kissing the top of Beca’s head before joining her on the log they had used as a seat the night before. 

“Morning,” Beca replied. “Sleep well?”

“Not bad. Better than you, anyway.”

Beca frowned and turned her attention away from the oatmeal so she could look at Chloe. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you were up all night, shuffling around the tent. Were you looking for something? And I’m pretty sure I asked you to keep the light on.”

“I did,” Beca said. “I never touched it.”

“Well then the battery must have died, because I woke up at like 2 am and it was basically pitch black. I could just see your… shape, sitting at the entrance to the tent.”

“Chlo’ the lamp was still on when I woke up. I slept like a log last night, I was exhausted. Unless I’ve suddenly started sleepwalking at the ripe age of 32, I didn’t move a muscle.”

“Huh,” Chloe said, frowning too. “I was sure…” Chloe shook her head, dispelling the memory of the night before and already reframing it in her mind. “I must have dreamt it.”

“You get some weird noises in the forest,” Beca said, returning her attention to their breakfast. “It can play tricks on you.”

“That must be it.”

After they ate and packed up, they were ready to begin their second day of the hike. If all went well, they’d reach their second camp spot by dinner, and their final destination tomorrow afternoon. 

This used to be a hike that Beca and her Dad did in two days, but because it was Chloe’s first time, she’d planned a slower pace which meant a couple more nights in the wilderness. Not that Beca minded, she’d always preferred a slower pace to her Dad’s break-neck speed, and it meant more nights spent camping, which she loved. But their time together had always been limited, and she needed to be back at the pre-approved custody drop-off spot by Sunday night. 

“You’re quiet today,” Chloe said, her voice breaking the silence that had accompanied them for the last two hours of their hike.

“Sorry,” Beca said. “I’m in my head a little.”

Chloe swapped the stick she’d been using to walk with to her left hand, and took hold of Beca’s with her right. “Don’t be sorry. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I’m fine. It’s just… It’s weird doing this without him.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Chloe said. 

Beca sucked in a breath and puffed out her cheeks as she blew it out.

She hated this feeling, the one she got right before she was about to cry. 

“Bec.”

“I know,” Beca said, clearing her throat. She knew what Chloe was going to say, she’d said it to her what felt like hundreds of times since her dad had passed. She was going to tell her that it was okay to cry. That it was healthy even. That Beca shouldn’t bottle up her emotions. And Beca knew that was true - logically knew that she shouldn’t be holding everything in like a shook-up soda can - but every part of her told her it was wrong. 

Beca kept her tears at bay and they lapsed into silence again. 

For hours they walked, Beca ahead of Chloe by inches. She couldn’t see her, but she could feel her, a millimetre behind her left shoulder. A shadow in her peripherals. 

She could hear Chloe’s footsteps just behind her, in sync with her own, close enough that if Beca stopped, Chloe would bump into her. Her left hand swung back as she walked and occasionally brushed against the textured surface of Chloe’s sweater.

Then Chloe took hold of her right hand.

Beca jumped - almost yelled out - and spun on her heels.

No one there.

Her heart was beating so fast and there was a sound like rushing water in her ears.

“Beca? What is it?”

Beca swallowed, her eyes scanning the trees behind them. She shook her head.

“I thought-” Beca cut herself off, alarmed and ashamed to hear the shake in her voice. “I thought you were behind me. I…” She swallowed again, her mouth dry, her tongue feeling thick. “I just got a fright. I thought you were on my left, not my right.”

Beca clenched her left hand and then shook it out. She had felt something brush against it. Had heard something walking right behind her. 

But she didn’t want to scare Chloe - didn’t want to scare herself anymore than she had - so she told herself she’d imagined it. She rubbed the back of her left hand against the sweater she wore under her raincoat, trying to clear away the residual feeling of having touched something unknown. 

“Let’s stop for a break,” Chloe said, still eyeing Beca with concern. “We have time, right?”

Not here, Beca thought.

“Yeah,” Beca said, not wanting to turn around and put her back to whatever that was, but also not wanting to stay in this spot for another second. “We can stop, but let’s cover a little more ground first.” She turned and carried on walking the trail, unable to shift the feeling that they were being watched, but refusing to turn and confirm it.

Whatever it was, she knew she didn’t want to see it.

You sound crazy, Beca thought. 

Chloe could tell something had deeply rattled Beca, so she didn’t argue and instead jogged to catch up. She decided not to take hold of her hand again, and tried to remain in her line of sight as best as she could.

After what Chloe would call a 30 minute speed-walk, Beca finally slowed and they stopped to take a break.

They took off their packs and Chloe almost cried with relief at the feeling, her aching shoulders and back practically singing now the weight had been removed.

Beca poured them each a coffee from the thermos she’d filled that morning, and they drank it with some cheese and crackers. 

Chloe rubbed at the knot in her shoulder as she looked up at the bright white sky that was peeking through the canopy of the trees. 

“I’m not walking you too fast, am I?” Beca asked, relieved her voice sounded normal again. 

“No,” Chloe replied. “I mean, that last 30 minutes was basically a run, but other than that it’s been fine.”

Beca nodded. “You’ll tell me if it gets too hard?”

“Of course,” Chloe said. Something about Beca had hardened in the last few hours, and Chloe couldn’t work out how or why. It gave her a pit of worry in her stomach, the kind she got when she thought someone might be mad at her. “I’m not, like, slowing you down or anything, am I?”

“No,” Beca said, her eyes widening in surprise. “No, you’re doing great. We’re making good time.”

She sounded sincere, and Chloe felt the tension in her loosen a little. “Good,” Chloe said. She could have left it at that, but Chloe was never one for holding back. She couldn’t swallow her feelings the same way that Beca could. “Sorry,” she said. “I just… I don’t know, I feel like you might be mad at me or something.”

Beca looked even more surprised. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Chloe shrugged. “The atmosphere’s been kinda tense, I dunno.”

“I mean, we’re here to scatter my dad’s ashes, Chlo’, I’m not sure what kind of atmosphere you were expecting.”

Chloe cringed and felt her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” 

She turned away and began busying herself with checking her bag.

“I’m not mad at you,” Beca said, her voice softer than it had been a moment ago. “I’m, like, trying to process a lot of feelings right now, and when that happens I go quiet. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Chloe said, turning back around so she could take both of Beca’s hands in hers. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you don’t need to be sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, what kind of memories being back here is bringing up, you are 100% allowed to be in your own head. I just needed to make sure I wasn’t doing anything to make it harder for you.”

Beca nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “And you never make anything harder, Chloe. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. Any of it.”

Chloe tugged Beca closer and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Whatever you’re feeling, or trying to work through, I hope you know that you don’t have to do it in your head. If you want to talk, or even just think out loud, then you can. I can talk it through with you or just be a sounding board. But only if you want to. We can walk in silence, or talk about something completely different. Whatever you need, Bec.”

Chloe felt Beca nod against her, and she held her against her chest until Beca ended the hug. 

They packed up, their backs groaning as the weight of the packs settled against their shoulders again, and they carried on walking.

The silence between them remained, and Chloe couldn’t think of any way to break it. 

She knew Beca needed it, but she hated it. 

Hated it because she was starting to feel on edge.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

-

Dinner that night was spaghetti in sauce with some kind of mystery meat. Chloe had grimaced as Beca had squeezed it out of the vacuum-sealed packet, but once it had been heated on the stove Chloe’s mouth had watered at just the smell of it.

“It’s not scientifically possible that spaghetti from a bag should taste this good,” Chloe said, trying to scrape up every last bit of sauce.

“I know,�� Beca said, her mouth almost smiling. 

Beca hadn’t been able to shake the darkness that had been growing in her chest since that morning, and it had only gotten heavier as the day wore on. Each step caused a rock to harden in her chest, and now it was almost nightfall, she felt like she was made of stone. 

Chloe cleaned up their plates while Beca lit another small fire, and they were soon huddled up together as night fell quickly.

“Is this the part where you tell me a ghost story?” Chloe asked, desperate for Beca to get out of her head. 

Beca let out a laugh that was little more than a puff of air through her nose. “I don’t think I know any.”

The silence fell across them again. Beca stared into the fire, and Chloe felt like she was sitting beside a statue.

Then Beca moved suddenly, startling Chloe. She reached into her pack and pulled out the bottle of whisky she’d used in their hot chocolate the night before. 

“Bec?”

“I’ve thought of one,” she said, pouring them each a small measure. She’d brought it with them so they could toast her Dad when his ashes were scattered - something that she realised was approaching closer and closer and that she wasn’t sure she was ready for - she hadn’t intended on them drinking it the rest of the nights. But the whisky had warmed her the night before, had temporarily eased the aches in her back and legs, and had allowed sleep to come more easily. Besides, she figured she might need a drink to tell the story she was about to share.

She took a sip and stored the bottle away again.

“You’ve got a ghost story?”

“Not a ghost story,” Beca said. “But a campfire kind of story.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. She wasn’t sure a scary story in the middle of the woods was a good idea, but anything was better than silence at this point.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I got lost in the woods?”

“No,” Chloe said, frowning. “Wait, is this a true story?”

Beca nodded. “I must have told you,” she said. “It’s how I got this.” She pointed to the scar on her cheek.

On instinct, Chloe reached out to touch it. She had asked Beca about it before, had even joked that it must mean they were meant to be together, since the scar formed an almost perfect “C” on her cheek. 

“You told me you got it hiking, not that you got lost,” Chloe said, her cold fingers tracing the edge of it. 

The light coming from the fire had blinded Beca to the rest of the forest, and the darkness stretched out around them on all sides. Even the stars were hidden by clouds. They were a solo pin-point of light in a vast sea of nothingness. Beca felt like if Chloe let go of her arm, she would float away into space.

Beca took another sip of whisky. 

“I was four,” she said. “Out hiking with my Mom and Dad. Before the divorce. The last time we did anything like that as a family. My Dad asked me to grab some sticks for firewood. I was right beside him. My Mom was in the tent, and he turned to ask her something. When he turned back I was gone.” Beca took another drink. “They found me three days later in a Walmart parking lot, the next state over.”

Chloe felt herself go cold. “What the hell?” She asked, her voice little more than a whisper. “What happened?”

“Not a fucking clue,” Beca said. “I don’t remember anything about it.”

“Nothing?” 

“I remember looking down for a stick, and then I remember this old couple in the parking lot asking where my parents were.”

“Jesus, Bec,” Chloe said. “Did you just wander off?”

Beca took another drink, her eyes burning from the heat of the fire that she refused to look away from. She couldn’t look away, because then she’d have to look into the darkness. Into the forest. She didn’t want to look.

“I was four, I couldn’t have walked that far on my own, not in three days,” Beca said, a hint of strain in her voice. She was suddenly wondering why she had decided to tell this story. She hadn’t thought about it in years. “I didn’t have any shoes on when they found me. No coat or hat or anything. There’s no way I could have survived on my own.” Beca cleared her throat, and took another drink. “They think someone took me.”

If Chloe had felt herself go cold before, it was nothing to how she felt now. She practically shivered. 

“Were you hurt when they found you?” Chloe asked, terrified of the answer Beca was about to give.

“No,” Beca replied. “I was fine. Healthy, even. I should have been malnourished or dehydrated or something. I was perfectly fine, except for this.” Beca touched the scar on her cheek. She cleared her throat. “They asked me what happened for months afterwards, but at the time I didn’t have the words to tell them, and by the time I did, I didn’t remember.”

“Beca, this is insane, I can’t believe I’ve known you for over ten years and I’ve never heard this story. You really don’t remember a thing?”

Beca closed her eyes. “I remember being cold, and I remember…” It came back to her sometimes in her nightmares. The wooden structure. Incongruous to its surroundings, like it had been cut out of a home depot catalogue and pasted into the forest. “It was like a hut.”

A stick snapped in the distance and Chloe jumped, and a nervous laugh followed. 

“We moved basically immediately after. Mom said she felt like everyone was watching her. Judging her. She was the bad Mom who let her kid get snatched from under her nose. They divorced not long after that. Mom blamed Dad, Dad blamed himself. I’ve never been back in that forest. It took me years before I’d even agree to go hiking with my Dad again.” Beca went to take another drink. The cup was empty, and the last few drops splashed against her chin. “I didn’t speak for a full year. I… Jesus, I haven’t thought about this in so long, I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“Thought I was over it. Thought it was like a funny, mildly interesting story. The time I got lost in the woods.” She let out a laugh that sounded strange. Panicked. “What the fuck?”

“Bec, it’s okay,” Chloe said, trying not to catch the panic rising in her girlfriend. She knew it was contagious, this kind of fear, and one of them had to be calm. “You’re okay.”

“They checked me over at the hospital,” Beca said, her voice shaking as every horrible memory from that time came flooding back. “You know, just in case. And he hadn’t. I hadn’t been… But, fuck, I was four. I was four and they were checking… fuck.”

It was all rushing back to her faster than she could process it. She wanted to be sick. 

This is why she kept things inside. Pushed them down and turned herself to stone.

“Did you speak to anyone after? Like a therapist or someone? Someone to help you process it?”

“Like 10 of them,” Beca said. “But all they did was try and get me to remember. Asked me to draw it if I couldn’t say it. The police tried that too. Said I needed to help them out because what if this guy snatches up another little girl, and she doesn’t get as lucky? But there was nothing in there. Nothing to draw. Just a black space. They never found him. No evidence there was ever anyone with me. This was back in the 90s, but they had basic security cameras in the parking lot, and there’s footage of me just walking into the parking lot alone. No shoes. No strange man pushing me out of a car and speeding off.”

“Man?”

“An assumption,” Beca said. “An assumption everyone else made too.”

In the light of the fire, Chloe could see Beca’s hands were shaking. She took hold of them, and Beca jumped at the contact.

“Baby, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Chloe said, her thumb brushing over Beca’s knuckles as she squeezed her hand.

“I don’t… I don’t know why I thought about it after all these years,” Beca said, the panic leaving her voice as the heaviness returned. “I don’t know why I told you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Chloe said. “You know how I feel about bottling things up.”

Beca gave a soft grunt of a laugh. “Yeah,” she said. 

“You’ve been in your head all day,” Chloe said. “You’re back camping and hiking for the first time in a long time, I’m not surprised that memory came back.”

“I wish it hadn’t,” Beca said, rubbing her free hand against her forehead. 

“I know,” Chloe said. “Let’s go to bed. You’ll feel better after some rest.”

Beca didn’t think that was true, but she knew Chloe was only trying to help so she didn’t argue. 

A night of rest wasn’t going to undo this thing that had happened to her almost 30 years ago. It wouldn’t break up the rocks that had been settling in her chest all day. It wouldn’t change the fact that her dad was little more than a pile of ash stashed in her bag, instead of the living breathing man that should be here.

She tried to give Chloe something close to a reassuring smile, but her mouth barely moved. It was as if this was turning to stone too. Her face a frozen expression of grief and pain. 

“You go on ahead,” Beca said. “I’ll take care of the fire.”

Chloe went into the tent to set up their beds for the night, and Beca was alone in the woods.

Except, she knew she wasn’t alone. That feeling of being watched had never left Beca since it arrived, and she was acutely aware that by standing in the light of the fire, it could see her, but she couldn’t see it. It could be a foot away and she’d have no idea.

Before the fear could take hold and root her to the spot, she began putting out the fire, and then backed into the tent rather than turning around. 

“All good?” Chloe asked, already curled up in her sleeping bag.

“Mhm,” Beca replied. “Light staying on?”

“Please,” Chloe said. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, getting herself ready for bed before climbing into her own sleeping bag. “Weird day.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca said.

“What for?”

“Being all… You know. Moody. Brooding. Whatever.” 

“You don’t need to apologise for that,” Chloe said. 

“Still. I’m not myself. Not fun to be around right now.”

“You don’t have to be,” Chloe said. “You’re grieving. Get some rest, Bec. I can tell you’re tired because you’re not even talking in complete sentences.”

Chloe was right. Beca was exhausted and not just from their hike. 

“‘Kay,” Beca said. “Night. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

The sound of rustling in their tent woke Chloe up again that night. 

It was dark. Darker than anything Chloe had ever experienced. 

It was as if the darkness was a physical presence, and not just the absence of light. She could feel it pressing all around her. Smothering her. 

Chloe wanted to ask Beca if she was okay - because who else would be rustling around in their tent - but she found she couldn’t. She was scared that if she opened her mouth the darkness would pour in and she’d drown in it. 

Then she heard another sound which made her blood run cold. 

Beca was crying. Sobbing. Right beside her on the ground. 

Which meant there was something else inside their tent. 

A fear like Chloe had never felt before gripped her so tightly she was afraid she’d shatter. 

She wanted to cry. To tell Beca to be quiet. To do something about this intruder that might wish them harm. 

But she couldn’t. 

All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath and pray that it would go away. That whoever or whatever it was would leave them alone. 

Beca continued to sob beside her, and Chloe realised this was the first time she’d ever really heard her girlfriend cry. She wanted to cry too but she swallowed the urge. 

“Please,” Beca whimpered, her breath shuddering between each painful sob. “Please, I want to go home. I want to go home.”

Her voice sounded so much smaller than usual. So much younger. She sounded like the lost little girl in the story Beca had told earlier that night. 

Beca’s story came back to Chloe like a bad dream she’d tried to forget. 

In her mind, she could see her huddled. Shivering. Looking up at… something. Something her four-year-old brain didn’t understand. Something she couldn’t put into words, but she knew enough to be afraid. 

All Chloe wanted to do was reach out and comfort her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move because she could still hear this thing in their tent. 

Behind her closed eyes, Chloe could see light. A dim glow that had returned to the tent. 

She almost opened her eyes.

Almost. 

Then she heard another rustle, and she knew they still weren’t alone. It was still there with them. 

Chloe could feel it watching them. 

It had turned the lamp back on. It wanted Chloe to look but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. 

It was silent save for the soft whimpering still coming from her girlfriend. So silent that she couldn’t hear the sounds of the rest of the forest anymore. No animals scurrying or owls hooting, or the wind rustling through the trees.

She could feel its eyes burning into her and she could feel herself beginning to shake as she realised something else.

She’d heard those noises the night before and had attributed them to Beca. 

Now she knew better.

This thing had been in their tent last night too. 

Had likely been following them this whole time.

That feeling she’d had of being watched wasn’t just her mind playing tricks on her. 

The silence dragged on with the feeling of pressure in their tent growing and growing. Chloe felt like she was waiting for a jump-scare in a movie. 

Then she heard the whine of the zipper being pulled, and felt a rush of cold air blow through the entrance to the tent. She heard the zipper again and the soft retreating footsteps of whatever it was. 

They were alone again, Chloe could feel it, but she still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. 

In her head she counted to ten. Twenty. Thirty. 

“I want to go home,” Beca cried again. “I want my Daddy.”

It was enough to finally force Chloe’s eyes open, and she felt a brief flood of relief to discover they were in fact alone again. 

Beca was curled on her side, knees pulled into her chest, body shaking with each cry for home and for her dad. 

From her spot beside her, Chloe could see that the scar on Beca’s cheek was bleeding. The scar was over 20-years-old, long faded and barely visible, but was somehow bleeding like a fresh wound.

Chloe tried for the rest of the night to wake her, but she couldn’t. Beca remained trapped in the nightmare where she was a lost little girl, begging to go home.

All Chloe could do was hold Beca in her arms. She assumed sleep would never come, but at the sound of the birds and the sight of soft light beginning to filter through their tent, she finally did. 

-

Chloe was alone when she woke up only a few hours later.

She scrambled up and out of her sleeping bag and was relieved to see Beca sitting just outside the entrance of their tent.

The cold air bit at her exposed arms and legs, but she didn’t return to the tent to get dressed. 

Beca was hunched over their camping stove, but was staring off into the trees. Chloe could smell the burning oatmeal in the pan and hurried forward to take it off the heat. 

Beca didn’t even react to her presence. Her eyes were slightly puffy from the hours she’d spent crying the night before, and the cut on her cheek was beginning to scab over. 

Chloe thought she looked empty. Lost.

“Beca,” she said, taking a seat beside her, the wooden log cold and wet against her bare skin. She took hold of Beca’s arm.

Beca gave a grunt in response, but didn’t look away from the trees.

“Bec, last night…” She trailed off, unable to find the words she needed to explain what had happened. “I don’t think we’re safe here. I think we need to go home.” Even as she said it, the knot of worry tightened in her stomach. They were at least two days' walk away from where they had parked up, which meant two more nights out here in the forest. 

Beca still didn’t speak, and Chloe’s panic increased.

“Something came into our tent last night. I don’t know if it was an animal or-” she cut herself off as she remembered that whatever it was had messed with their light. Had zipped and unzipped the entrance to their tent multiple times. “Something was in our tent,” she repeated. “And it was in our tent the night before. And it followed us all day yesterday, and I think you know that. I think you felt it too.”

Beca nodded, slowly.

It wasn’t words, but it was something. It was an acknowledgement. 

“So we should go, right? Like pack up and hightail it out of here? I can walk faster,” Chloe said, the speed of her voice quickening as a sense of urgency filled her. “You and your dad used to do this hike in two days, right? Well just walk at that pace and I’ll keep up, or-” Chloe’s words were coming faster. Tripping over each other in a rush to get out of her mouth. “Or we go a different way. Just whatever will get us out of this forest the fastest. We can Uber to the car when we’re back to civilization.”

Beca nodded again, her eyes never leaving the trees. Chloe was too afraid to follow the direction they were focused on.

“Baby, please say something. I’m really fucking freaked out right now.”

Beca swallowed and a tear crept down her cheek, stopping when it reached the raised scab that was still a scar only hours ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca said. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I know,” Chloe said. “I don’t either, but I need you right now. I don’t know what I’m doing out here, and I need you to help me get us out of here. I need…” She trailed off. She had almost told Beca she needed her to snap out of it, but that seemed too harsh.

But then she thought, fuck it.

She needed to be harsh.

She needed to be harsh because she couldn’t get them out of this forest alone.

Because she refused to die out here.

“I need you to snap out of this,” Chloe said, her voice sterner than it had been a moment ago. “Something weird is happening out here, and I need you to fight it. You can’t give up, Bec. We need to get out of here.”

Beca cleared her throat and finally tore her eyes away from the trees. 

“I know,” she said. “I know, I’m sorry.” She pulled out the map, and tapped on a spot. “That’s where we’re headed,” she said, pointing at the place where she intended to scatter her Dad’s ashes. “From there we’ll cut down here.” She traced her finger down a length of what Chloe assumed to be woodland. “A harder path than the way we came, but shorter. There are multiple places to join the trail, and this should lead us to one of them.”

“Have you done it before?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Beca admitted. “But we could be out of here by tonight if we take it.”

Chloe nodded. The unknown was frightening to her, but the way they came didn’t feel much better. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I trust you.”

Chloe dressed and they packed up their camp in record speed.

The oatmeal had been beyond saving, so they each ate a protein bar as they walked.

The pace Beca set was punishing, but Chloe kept up. Everything hurt from her feet to her shoulders, but she didn’t complain. She would not slow them down.

The thing still followed them.

They both knew it, could both feel it, but they refused to turn and look.

Up ahead, they saw the gradual incline of a hill, and for the first time that day, Beca thought about why they were even here in the first place. 

She thought about her dad.

She thought about what she would soon be doing.

These weren’t the circumstances she’d wanted when she’d suggested the idea to Chloe a month ago.

She’d wanted time. Peace. She’d wanted to be able to say a few words. Have a drink. Cry, maybe.

Beca knew now she wouldn’t get that. She knew she was foolish to even still be doing it. 

But she also knew she had to. It was her last chance. 

Once she got out, she would never set foot in this place again, or anywhere like it. 

Because what she knew now was the man that had taken her all those years ago had never been a man.

It was a Thing. An It. Something not human. Something that had followed her to the other side of the country.. 

After all these years, it had found her.

Or had it always known where she was? Had it just been waiting for the right moment?

Had it been following and watching on every hike she’d taken with her dad?

Beca shuddered as the ground sloped upwards beneath her feet. 

It didn’t make any sense, but logic and reason were starting to feel like foreign concepts. 

None of it had ever made sense.

How do you snatch a child from right under her parents’ noses? How does she end up in a parking lot miles and miles away from where she started?

Chloe walked beside her, her right hand holding Beca’s left, as their pace slowed as they climbed the hill.

The thing followed on Beca’s right. Its footsteps out of time with her own.

It wanted her to know it was there. 

Chloe was beginning to pant beside her.

“We can stop soon,” Beca said, her own breathing just as laboured.

Chloe didn’t want to - she could feel it beside them too - but she knew they needed to. 

They crested the top of the hill, and the forest stretched out beneath them.

It seemed to go on forever, and Chloe felt that panic grip her again.

How would they ever get out of this?

“There,” Beca said, pointing in the direction they had to head next, her head down to look at her compass. “Down that way.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, pulling the map out to double check. 

“Okay,” Chloe said. She unclipped the strap across her chest and let her pack drop to the floor. The relief was immediate but the pain still lingered. 

Beca did the same, though she was a little more careful about lowering her bag to the floor. 

This thing that followed kept its distance.

Like it understood this was a moment Beca needed to have before whatever came next. 

She reached into her pack and pulled out the urn that contained what was left of her Dad.

She straightened up and took a deep breath.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” she said, speaking to the urn. To her Dad. “I had a whole speech prepared, but I think we have to keep it short. The gist is, you deserve to stay in your favourite place forever. To be with nature, in this forest you loved so much. I… I miss you. I love you.”

Beca opened the urn and tipped out the ashes and they were picked up by the wind. 

She had expected to feel lighter, but she didn’t. She didn’t know how she felt, but they didn’t have time to dissect it right now.

“Ready?” Beca asked. She couldn’t bring herself to glance over her shoulder at Chloe, in case it wasn’t Chloe that was looking back at her. She kept her eyes focused on the direction they were heading as she hauled her pack back onto her bag.

“Yeah,” Chloe replied, doing the same. She handed Beca another protein bar. “Let’s get out of here.”

-

Hours and hours passed and they had no idea if they were even close to getting out.

The trail Beca had chosen for them had been significantly more overgrown than expected.

The terrain was rough, uneven, and dangerous. A lot had been completely impassable and had required them to alter their course to go around it. 

Beca had tried to maintain their pace but it was proving reckless. One wrong step could result in a twisted ankle or worse, and that could put them in serious danger under normal circumstances.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, and Beca was forced to bring them to a stop.

They would have to endure one more night in this place.

“I’m sorry,” Beca said, her breathing heavy as they finally conceded defeat. “I didn’t realise how bad it would be.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Chloe replied. “We didn’t have a lot of choices.”

They set up their tent even though they knew it offered them no protection from the thing that still stalked them, and they huddled inside it together without any intention of sleeping.

“As soon as it’s light we head out again,” Beca said, checking the map for what felt like the hundredth time. “I think we went too far south, we need to be more west.”

“Eat something,” Chloe said, handing her one of the vacuum sealed packages Beca had brought, and keeping one for herself.

They ate them cold, and in silence, hunger gnawing at their stomachs even after the last of the food had been squeezed into their mouths. 

“We’re going to be okay, right?” Chloe asked, shuffling closer and linking her arm through Beca’s.

“Yeah,” Beca said, without conviction. “Of course.”

Darkness was falling fast, and only their dim, flickering, camping lamp provided them with any kind of light. 

“I was going to propose,” Beca said, her voice breaking a long silence between them. “Before my dad… Then I thought maybe I’d do it when we got home from this trip.”

There was defeat in Beca’s voice and it made Chloe feel helpless. 

“When you ask me when we get home, I’ll say yes,” Chloe said. “I’ll even act surprised.”

“What if I asked you now? Would you say yes now?”

Chloe wanted to cry. “Are you asking now?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I think I am.”

“You have to actually ask me,” Chloe said, tears coming quickly now. 

Beca laughed and sniffed and cleared her throat. “Chloe Beale, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Chloe replied, her voice hiccuping as she half laughed and half cried. “But you have to promise me we aren’t going camping for our honeymoon.”

“After this, I’m never going camping again.” 

Beca hurried to wipe her eyes before kissing Chloe for what felt like the last time. 

Darkness had truly fallen now, and she knew their time was short. 

“The ring is in the bottom drawer of my desk. The one with the lock. Key is taped to the back of our photo,” she said. 

Her brief moment of joy was now being replaced by the fear that had followed them all day. 

It was coming. 

She could hear the snapping of sticks in the distance as it made its way over to them. 

“You can give it to me yourself when we get home,” Chloe replied. She could feel it too. Could feel the fear radiating out of Beca as the lamp in their tent began to flicker and die. 

They were plunged into darkness. 

The only thing they could hear was their own ragged breaths. 

“Beca. I love you.”

Beca didn’t reply, because she was already gone. 

-

The darkness lifted so slowly, Beca thought maybe she was just imagining it. Maybe her eyes were finally adjusting after so long in the pitch black. 

But then it got brighter. 

She thought it was the sunrise, but she knew that morning was still hours away. 

What was that old saying her grandmother had said about a red sky at night?

She reached for Chloe’s hand, but Chloe wasn’t there. 

There was no use delaying the inevitable. 

Beca unzipped the tent and stepped out into the blood red sky. 

The ground was cold beneath her bare feet, the wind bit at her now completely naked body, and her breath fogged in front of her face.

This wasn’t the same forest she’d been in only hours before. 

Before her was a clearing free from trees, and in the middle was that wooden structure from her nightmare. 

Beca began to sob.

No no no no no no no

God

Please

Her feet moved of their own accord towards the hut, and the door creaked open to welcome her inside. 

It was so cold. 

The red light filtered through the single window above the door and she could make out the shape of a creature crouched in the shadows.

The door slammed shut.

No no no 

It stood. Its presence filled the space.

It was taller than the height of the hut, and it had to hunch over as it stood.

Its body was too long. The back of its head was flat against the ceiling as it looked down at her.

Red eyes and a smiling mouth with too many teeth. Ram-like horns and hooved feet. Thick matted black hair.

Beca began to tremble.

In her mind she begged and pleaded and prayed but not a sound left her mouth.

She was mute with terror, the same way she’d been as a little girl.

The cabin smelled of the cold. Of rotten leaves and neglect. Of animal waste and rotting meat.

Please god oh please please I want to go home please let me go home

This creature looming over her made no sound. It simply stared.

Like it was deciding what to do with her.

Beca knew she was in the presence of something ancient and terrible.

It was older than anyone alive. Older than the country it lived in. Older than the Gods.

She also knew that this creature was dying.

It was the last of its kind.

And Beca was here to fulfil a promise she’d made when she was four years old.

No words had been spoken but Beca had understood that when she’d left this hut as a child, that she would be expected to return. She would be expected to help.

And Beca had wordlessly agreed.

Yes. Anything. I want to go home. I want my Mommy and Daddy.

It had even left its mark so it would be able to find her again.

It’s why Beca had flat out refused to go hiking again as a child, until every part of the experience had been lost from her memories.

She knew now what would be required of her.

Without telling her body to do it, Beca backed up until she hit a wall, and then she slid down it.

Not this not this not this not this

Her mind screamed and tears rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the fresh blood now dripping from her scarred cheek.

No no no no no no no no no

The creature began to fall apart.

Its horns crumbled into dust. 

Its eyes melted in their sockets and ran down its snout like tears.

Its fur fell away in clumps.

Its skin and flesh sloughed off its yellowing brittle bones.

It was nothing but a pile of bones and teeth and viscera. 

Beca was not comforted by this, and she began to cry harder as she saw movement in that pile.

I don’t want this not this not this please please Jesus fuck please

She remained silent and completely paralyzed as what was left of this monster began crawling towards her.

She couldn’t move an inch. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t scream. All she could do was watch.

-

Chloe was pacing her apartment, a cut chewed into her lip, a headache pushing against the backs of her eyes.

“Chloe, can you sit down and eat something?” Aubrey asked, her own head pounding as she watched her best friend pace backwards and forwards. “I know you think we’re going to hear something today, but-”

“It’s been three days,” Chloe snapped. “She’s been gone for three days and the last time she was taken she turned up three days later.”

“I know,” Aubrey said, trying to keep her voice calm. Trying to sound rational. “You told me what she told you. Even if that is what’s going on here, pacing a hole in the floor won’t make the phone ring any faster.”

“I can’t sit still,” Chloe said. “If it lets her go…” Chloe trailed off. It had to let her go. The alternative was unthinkable. “When it lets her go, I need to be ready. Who knows where she’ll end up, so I’ll need to be ready to leave at a moment-”

Chloe’s phone ringing and buzzing from the countertop cut her off.

“I can’t,” Chloe said, suddenly frozen in place. “Aubrey, please, I can’t.”

Aubrey nodded and answered.

“Chloe Beale’s phone, Aubrey Posen speaking,” Aubrey said, in her best lawyer voice. “Oh my god are you serious? You found her?!” Aubrey’s eyes were wide as she looked at Chloe. “Wait, she’s where? How did she - you know what, never mind, we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

Chloe felt relief flood through her like someone had opened a valve of it in her brain.

Beca was alive.

“Oh,” Aubrey said, her shoulders dropping. Chloe’s stomach dropped with them. “I’m sorry I think you have the wrong person, Beca isn’t… You’re sure? Like 1000% positive because if I tell her fiance this and you’re wrong I swear I will sue you to… Okay. Shit. Okay. Um, thank you detective. I’ll speak to Chloe now and we’ll… Yeah, we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

“Well?!” Chloe demanded as soon as Aubrey put the phone down. 

“Chloe, sit down.”

“I’m not-”

“Sit down.”

Aubrey’s voice left no room for augment. Chloe sat down at the kitchen table. She fiddled with her engagement ring, twisting it around her finger as she waited for Aubrey to speak.

“She’s alive,” Aubrey said. “They found her in a Walmart parking lot and they took her to a nearby hospital. The detective is going to text the address.” 

“Is she okay?”

“She’s in labour.”

Chloe blinked. Thought for a second she was having some kind of stroke. Or maybe a hallucination from lack of sleep. 

Then her shoulders sank the same way Aubrey’s had. “It’s not her,” Chloe said. “Beca wasn’t pregnant.”

“Chloe-”

“Beca wouldn’t have cheated on me. And even if she did, even if she was somehow miraculously pregnant, she was certainly not pregnant enough to be in labour.”

“She’s asking for you,” Aubrey said. “That’s what the detective said.”

“‘Bree, this is impossible,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. 

“So is a lot of the stuff you’ve told me in the past 72 hours,” Aubrey said. “Maybe the detective is wrong. Maybe something else is going on here. But we have to find out, right?”

Chloe nodded. “Let’s go.”

-

They arrived at the hospital the next afternoon, after an overnight flight and long drive in a rental car.

The detective met them at the entrance.

“Ms Beale? Ms Posen? I’m Detective Farrow. Please follow me.”

“How is she?” Chloe asked, her hands shaking as she followed the detective through the winding halls of the hospital.

“Okay, considering,” he said. “Still in labour, though I hear it won’t be much longer. Seems like the baby was waiting for you before making its entrance.”

There’s no baby, Chloe thought.

“When can we see her?” Aubrey asked.

“Not sure, not my circus so to speak. Down to the doctors,” he said. “You should have given the police and mountain rescue folks a heads up about her being pregnant by the way.”

“She wasn’t pregnant.”

“You thought she was just gaining weight or something?”

“Look,” Chloe snapped, pulling out her phone. “Here is a picture I took of her two days before she went missing.”

The detective frowned as he looked at the photo. 

“Huh,” he said. “I’ll be damned. Late bloomer, I guess, in the stomach department.”

Chloe was starting to get annoyed with this guy.

“Can you find someone I can talk to about my fiance?” She asked. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a series of shouts coming from a room up ahead. He turned, his hand resting on his gun.

A man in scrubs came stumbling out of the room looking horrified. Chloe saw the name Mitchell scrawled on the whiteboard outside the door.

Her feet started moving before her mind could make sense of what was happening, and Aubrey’s hand closed around her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Everything okay, doc?” The detective asked.

The doctor shook his head, practically tripping over himself to get away from the room.

“Has something happened to Beca?” Chloe asked, her voice shaking. “To the baby?”

“That… That’s no fucking baby,” he said.

The screams and shouts continued coming out of Beca’s room and more doctors and nurses began fleeing.

Chloe pulled her arm free of Aubrey’s grasp and she ran for the door.

She took a deep breath before she pushed it open.

In the days that would follow, a smartly dressed man would arrive and introduce himself as being a part of the FBI. 

Beca and Chloe neither checked nor cared if his credentials were real.

He promised he would help, but only if Beca could tell him exactly what happened.

Beca couldn’t, and he would leave seemingly disappointed.

That same night, a nurse would tell Beca, with a straight face, that her baby had died. They could see her mouth twist at the word ‘baby’. 

Beca had no reaction, and Chloe was secretly relieved.

Beca would tell Chloe months later that she thought the FBI guy took it. She would tell her that she hoped it wasn’t suffering, but that she also hoped it was dead.

But that was all to come. 

Right now, Chloe had to confront the horror she had just walked in on.

Beca was on the bed, staring blankly out of the window to her right, her legs still in stirrups.

The room was empty of medical staff, and Chloe could hear the dripping sound of blood hitting the floor as it ran from in between Beca’s legs.

They hadn’t even covered her up before they fled.

Chloe’s hands were on her mouth as her eyes travelled up Beca’s body.

On Beca’s chest was something small. Hairy. Horned and hoofed. Chloe could make out the red of its eyes as its razor sharp teeth bit and tore at Beca’s breast.

It lapped up the blood that flowed.

Chloe swallowed. 

“Beca?”

Beca’s head turned. Her eyes were hazy. Glazed over. Lost. 

Somewhere in there, Chloe could see her fiance begging for help.

“Hi Chlo’,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “Have you come to meet my son?” 

[talekinesis]

Reasons I will not Accept Umbrella Academy Season 4 as Canon (major spoilers)

I wanna preface this with: This is just my personal opinion, I am not telling anyone how they should or shouldn't feel. If you liked season 4, that is wonderful for you, I wish I could say the same

These two. I do not like their little romantic side plot at all for a multitude of reasons

I know Five's consciousness is like 68, I know he's technically an old man, but his body is around 19 years old, and Lila knew him while his body was still 13 so it just feels weird

I cannot imagine being in my 30s, married with children and being in love with someone who looks like they're 19, and yes, I know 7 years alone will do numbers on someone's mind, but still

throughout their whole little love montage, I was just begging, "Please let this just be a wholesome friend thing, please let this just be a cute, close sibling like dynamic- FUCK ME, THEYRE KISSING!?"

Also Five wasn't even good to her, he lied about the book at first and just made the decision for her that she'd stay with him in that timeline forever. And yes I know he eventually told her, but even after that he kept trying to convince her to just abandon her husband, children, and family because "You're happy here." Diego and Lila have their own issues, sure, but he's still the much better option and wouldn't have tried to trap her like that.

Season 4 Five just feels.. off, he feels wrong. Bring back his little shorts and old man vests when he was in 'retirement.' Bring back the Five that went on a road trip with Klaus because he wanted to see things like the world's biggest ball of yarn or whatever it was, I don't like this Five who tries to trap a married mother in an alternate dimension with him

THE CLEANSE

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

YOU'RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME NONE OF THEM MAKE IT??

"Oh Talon, there can't always be happy endings, some endings are sad too," and I GET THAT!! But that doesn't mean I can't still pout about it >:(

I will sit here with a pouty lip and arms crossed for all eternity /ref

It just felt like a kick to the gut for the show to be like, "Oh and they ceased to exist, they were never born, none of this technically ever happened, and no one remembered or missed them. They saved the world, the timeline, and no one will ever remember them for it because it technically didn't actually happen to begin with," fuck you

These characters we got so attached to, these plots that we got so invested in, you can't just tell me, "Also they technically never happened because they were never born," what the hell??

So you know what?? No. I don't accept s4 as real. Just like the cleanse, it never happened. As far as I'm concerned, the story ended at s3, everyone is alive and well, they don't have their powers, and they all went their separate ways.

Viktor is still running a bar in Canada with his friends

Allison is still a happy mother to Claire

Luther is living in the mansion married to Sloane

Diego is still learning to be a parent with Lila

Five is in much needed therapy and in college reclaiming a young adulthood life he never had

Klaus is still sober and going strong, probably working at a café, he's someone's favorite barista and they have conversations

Ben is living in South Korea (where google said he was at the end of s3) and he still keeps in contact with Klaus and Viktor

[manchesterau]

im gonna try not to spam yall all day about this but here is like the spoiler-ish review

right off the bat i have to say this, the loudest screams were for sister daniel hands down we were loud the whole show but when she came out it was CRAZY like it was so fucking loud and she is EVERYTHINGGG like actually everything and oh my god i swear that nun costume doesn’t cover ANYTHING i saw full cheeks jiggling and my mom was afterwards was like you can tell sister daniel is his like slutty alter ego and i scream and i told her he was wearing pants under because she didnt think he was bc the nude underwear wasnt doing SHIT like just full ass jiggling on stage

ok sister daniel rant over

wanna highlight that phil did so well there was like one part where he stumbled over his words i think during the doll part but other than that he fucking ATEEE and during the boxing part we cheered loud for phil and he was so smiley and his monologue was so good like i just wanted to hug him and during the dance part he did so good and he’s so FUNNYYYY like ahhh phil lester is just…yeah dude like i get why dan’s obsessed im obsessed i had to stop staring but i couldnt!!!

and daniel…dan was made to be onstage like im not even joking he needs to do more stage work and you can tell he LOVES that shit and whenever we would laugh at his jokes or clap or scream he THRIVED off it during no model or role model we voted to kill fake dan and my god my section was so unhinged we were yelling cunt and cum and orgasm which got on the screen it was so funny but man i could not take my eyes off him and he’s so bendy and the way he would move around the stage like it came second nature to him and he kept looking at phil and phil kept looking at him and yeah dude 😭😭 dan howell you were meant for the stage bby

and can i just say…the song fucking EATS like oh my god it’s actually so fucking good like i was not expecting that at allllll

all and all i had the time of my fucking life and they mean so fucking much to me and while i didnt get to tell them that i screamed as loud as i could and clapped as hard as i could and i could feel that they need is just as much as we need them the love is mutual 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[qprpbj]

saw brent's story of the pastor costume

mind immediately went to religious trauma darry

then mind immediately went to you

please give us more thoughts

“then mind immediately went to you” well yes 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ok i need you to hear me out and walk with me for this one. ponyboy about as atheist as they come bc he’s so naturally curious and i can’t see him taking religion at face value — is always questioning and looking for deeper meanings etc. soda who loves having god to believe in, probably prays pretty often esp post parents-death, says grace at mealtime if he can remember — he genuinely gives me very casually religious vibes idk why but i stand by it.

darry though. sigh. i think he WANTS to have religion in his life but if we’re going the gay route, obviously like…he grew up in a church in the midwest 50s where it’d be beat into his head that he is fundamentally made wrong and. you know. the internalized homophobia and religious guilt mix is nottttt to be played with. i think he doesn’t ever have gfs and kinda just fucks around and jumps headfirst into his studies (bc he needs grades more than girls anyway) and probably stops going to church around like. early teenage years, then by mid teenage years he meets paul and they begin their. whatever they do. i fr stand by that they alwaysss without fail meet on sunday mornings bc paul too has (more recently) dropped out of church and would rather spend sunday mornings w darry than be there. if they’re gonna be sinners n supposedly go to hell either way they may as well act on it and feel good in the moment u know

i also think entirely besides the whole Gay Thing™️ that he has a lottt of frustrations with god and with the idea of believing in higher power after his parents die. i think before it’s not so bad, he never had a family to worry about and his biggest beef w the church was them calling him a sinner for being gay but that’s like. he can sorta get over it if he stays closeted forever. but now it’s like. he’s getting told everything happens for a reason and this is all in gods plan by everyone he meets and he can’t even begging to understand why. why god has it out for him, why his family, what he did so wrong. i think he entirely rejects the concept of religion after this whereas soda probably leans more into it and seeks god for guidance which could be an interesting sorta rift between them and how they both personally cope. i do believe that when pony does missing for the week in windrixville darry is so so exhausted and at his wits end (considering “throwing in the towel”, whatever you personally think that means for him!) that he prays to his parents instead of god and asks for their help in bringing his baby brother home <3 (and it works!!!!!!!!)

this, of course, is all entirely separate from the fact that darry is a very by the book guy. he doesn’t play about fact and has little room for opinion in his head and beliefs. i think that def factors into how much he genuinely believes in god vs how much he thought he should growing up. if that makes any sense

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on Heart ( jake seresin x singlemom! reader )

CHAPTER TWO

Summary: the first week come and goes as she meets more members of the dagger squad except of the mystery hangman til she and belle are invited showing the blonde that she wasnt just a mom and the blonde starts rethinking his no moms policy

warning : fluffy fluff

previous chapter

The week was standard enough  belle went to daycare each day was longer than the one before which meant y/n got more and more of the house unpacked and even invited nat over for lunch  a couple of times , well she invited the others but the woman said they couldn’t make it leaving out the part she threatened them not to come over .   then she also met them again at same fast food place this time it was two new faces she learned was coyote and payback apparently the elusive hangman was on a date  one of many from what she gathered he sound like a bit of a playboy of sorts  . then saturday she and belle was invited to the beach with the gang . now she was spending the morning baking away because well her grandmother taught her better than to show up empty handed . nat did tell her guys played some weird kind of football but she was happy to sit with nat and belle to sandcastle or play in the water. 

The dagger squad  where setting up their things while nat and rooster laying down some bucket and stuff as well as beach umbrella into the sand completely perplexing jake seresin who was checking out the beach babe beauties .  

“ what are y’all doing?” . 

“ setting up space for belle so it not too hot obviously “ rooster rolled his eyes. 

“ oh so mommy and me is coming today?” he teased . 

“ hey she actually cool chick , she gave me tips on how to fix my car “ javy smiled . 

“ well i’m sure shes a peach but moms are messy “ he shrugged. 

“ actually not too messy we carry wet wipe all time but thanks for the observation cowboy” the voice called as he turned . 

“ ignore him, hey look we set up a belle  patch …  we kinda went overboard “ nat wince looking around at the toys on the ground . 

“  wow you did but y’all didn’t have to, thank you ,   i brought cookies and cupcakes “ she held the bag up . 

“ you must be bagman  “ she turned to the blonde .

“ it’s Hangman or Jake and you must be the mom i’ve been hearing about ?” he smiled, maybe the mom thing wasn’t too bag after all . 

“ Well cowboy don’t worry about this mom you're not my type so you're safe “ she  shook his hand before seeing belle already running towards rooster excitedly falling in the sand a couple of times before changing her mind and going to nat instead much to the man's disappointment. 

“ told you she’s too smart for you guys  seems like so is belle “ nat cheered and she twirled with the toddler in her arms . 

“ I didn't mean offense by the way ?” Jake called. 

“ none taken seriously don’t worry about it i ain’t gonna cry because a life size ken doll doesn’t like me that way, i ain’t looking for love either  “ she snorted as the others laughed.  “ now that out of the way would ya like a cookie or a cupcake “ she opened the boxes already knowing which one belle was after handing her a cupcake as she sat near  rooster who chose the same as well as a cookie. 

“ shit these are so good “ fanboy groaned . 

“ language around the baby” rooster hissed as  he covered her ears . 

“  i’m glad you like em , my grandmother would roll in her grave if she knew i showed up empty handed “ she chuckled taking her own out  sitting on towel  . “ so y’all playing football thing ?” she asked . 

“ yeah if you wanna play i can sit here with belle “ rooster offered only for jake to snort . 

“ i think i might “ she narrowed her eyes  at the blonde . “ how do you play “ she whispered to nat . 

“ you sure you wanna do this , i mean it not some pta thing or playing with blocks ” jake teased. 

“  i grew up with boy cousins and two  brothers  who didn’t see gender roles in their rough play ,i can take you on anytime cowboy ken” she crouched . “ plus ain’t size of dog it the fight of it “ she winked as Mav blew the whistle just as fanboy threw her the ball jake barrelled towards her she was veering to the left watching him  easily already heading that way before skimming the blonde and hitting right to throw the ball to payback who then score just as jake hit the sand . “ need a wet wipe “she chuckled holding her hand out for him to take . 

“ lucky first shot is  all “ he took her hand going to pull her down with him but she pulled her hand back making him fall back again . 

“Oldest trick in the book tic tac toe“ she stuck her tongue out as jake laughed. 

“ ok come on we get her this time “ was probably javy’s favorite sentence of the game til she with help of payback and fanboy scored the winning goal . before she heading over to  nat who looked happy with the sleeping toddler on her chest .  as she took her her shorts and tshirt off to lay on the sand an let the heat hit her skin as well as the fact her clothes where drench in sweat from the game what she didn’t see was the guys reaction to the show and had jake really rethinking his whole deal on single moms . while two sit on sand talking away while guys played couple of games . 

“ we’re heading hard deck soon for lunch ,  penny got some juice and things for little miss there when your ready join us “ Mav smiled . 

“ oh thank you  isn’t the hard deck a bar though ?” she asked sort of wide eye .

“ we have lunch the weekends before she opens  “ nat reassured her . 

“ ok well i better take her off of you get her into her carseat” she went to grab her only for nat to stand belle still sleeping soundly . 

“ it’s a two minute walk from here literally across the car park “ she walked ahead.  

“ ok i’ll just grab a clean shirt out of my car “ she snorted as the guys helped her pack up her stuff . 

“ amelia will probably offer her babysitting services  just to warn you and penny’s been dying to meet belle” Mav  smiled carrying her bag to the guys disappointment .  

“ y’all are very welcoming out here “  her eyes watching rooster talking to a now confused and dazed  belle slight reminding her of her brothers  in away making her miss them . 

“ so you said you have brothers?” Mav asked. 

“ two big ones  , both in navy funny enough , one is stationed in texas and another is deployed “ she smiled softly .

“ are you guys close ?” he asked . 

“ very  i mean  we had other family but it was mainly three of us with our grandparents then my grandfather passed away when i was 13 so our grandma raise us “ she smiled sadly. 

“ your parents ?” mav asked. 

“ Well not really parents got their own things going on i guess but we didn’t miss out on anything our grandma was a saint , sometimes  slightly scary woman “ she chuckled. 

“ sorry that was probably over the line asking “ he winced . 

“ nah it’s ok  i ain’t shamed of my upbringing  actually proud of it  , we would of been deemed lost causes to rest of the world but showed them different “ she smiled brightly. 

“  well i’d say their proud of you now , your brothers i mean “  . 

“ oh they are i mean  they are both trying to get stationed here, benny is more so  he’s the oldest and kai is the middle who is deployed somewhere in the pacific  and then i’m baby who is adorable and  sweet as a peach “ she joked . 

“ hey peach suits you think we found your callsign kiddo “ mav chuckled ruffling her hair . 

“ who got call sign?” bob asked . 

“ peach here , sweet as a peach “ mav nudged her. 

“ i regret bringing that up “ she grimaced. 

“ well get over it apple “  jake smirked. 

“ will do hopscotch “ she ran up to see belles lip wobble . 

Walking into the hard deck she was little nervous meeting more people but the moment she seen Penny Benjamin's warm smile  those nerves melted away .  She was eager to win Belle over seemed as though they all did during the lunch even jake decided to get in on it ultimately him and nat were favorites for awhile  til she got upset and started calling for  “roo” .  honestly she thought the man was going to cry with the excitement . she even got in a few games of pool to which jake got his comeback and beat her at .  the guys also agreed to come over help with the last few things she needed to  do in the house and Amelia indeed offered her babysitting services.

She was barely even awake when she heard the knocking on her door soft glow of the morning sun coming through the window she checked to see belle still undisturbed on the monitor  .  she barely had time to wipe the sleep out of her eyes when she padded her way down the hall . stretching as she pulled open the door to see the dagger squad standing on her porch bright eyed . 

“Are y’all ok it like … what time is it “ she groaned leaving the door open for them to come in and follow. 

“ it’s ten  wait shit i though babies wake early so figured you’d be awake “ rooster winced. 

“ nah she still asleep really tuckered her out yesterday  i’ll  guess i’ll get breakfast started and coffee “ she stretched out . 

“ is the kiwi not a morning person ?” jake called she didn’t need to even look at the man to know he was smug and smiling at her. 

“ nah monopoly i ain’t , now who wants pancakes” she turn as a show of hands raised up only for her to hear a cry coming down the hall .  “ let me get princess belle and i’ll get breakfast started “ she yawned more before heading down the hall only this time one pair of eyes where following her. 

“ next time we don’t listen to rooster … the baby expert “ nat rolled her eyes  following down to apologize .

“ this place is cool , she was telling me she'd been fixing it up while belle was in daycare and nat  been saying same she even helped her paint and stuff “ bob  told them all as they stood waiting . 

“ what she need our help for ?” jake asked looking around bob was right she made the little space like home such a short of time it was cozy he could see himself relaxing after hard day . 

“ she doesn’t but we offered to help our new co worker and friend out “  rooster shrugged . 

“ also helping the hot mom out works too “ payback whispered just as sound of little feet came running down the halls stopping looking up at the men staring down . 

“ jake “ she squealed holding her little arms out to the man . 

“ hey little lady  love the crazy do this morning “ he chuckled lifting her up , her hair out like a birds nest as her little hands rubbed her eyes  .

 “ like her moms it would seem “ rooster snort and y/n was currently  fixing her hair back up on top of her head and out of her face. 

“   you still look beautiful though” bob smiled shyly. 

“ for that you get extras “ she patted the WSO’s cheeks as he stood a little taller.  All following into the kitchen as nat moved around easily being the only one of the group who was actually ever in the space.  She began pulling it all out as jakes eyes widen as excitement took over the man seeing the stuff  his home state sitting right on the counter . 

“ shit where  you get that i haven’t found any of that stuff here” he smiled . 

“ i brought  a lot  kinda scared i wouldn’t find it here my brother  said he’s gonna bring more up when he visit i’ll ask him bring extra for you but i don’t know when that will be “  her back turned cutting up some fruit as nat was making everyone coffee . moving around the large men around the kitchen sitting the little plate on counter grabbing the bottle of milk nat handed her .  “ thank you gorgeous lady “ she winked taking belle out of the blondes arms before placing her in her highchair handing her the bottle and plate . 

“ i’ll watch her while your doing that “ rooster offered . 

“ thank you chicken” she cooed  making him blush . 

“ you don’t do that when hangman calls you chicken “ fanboy whispered. 

“ she’s prettier and has better accent than hangman  , hers doesn’t sound condescending either” he shrugged. 

All eyes watching  like they’d never seen how a breakfast was made such fascination  while she was talking about how excited she was to finally start working with them all . it was strange how close she already felt with the group after a short amount of time .   she was already picking up mannerisms of each individual , each persona of each member of the dagger squad.  

“ thank you peach “ each member called as she place their plate in front of them bar jake  who said “ thank you banna “ 

“ you know your gonna run out of fruit bop it “ she chuckled . 

“ your gonna run out of games “ he shoot back  taking a  forkful of food nearly falling in his seat shit he was really start to rethink his policy on single moms now .

next chapter