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sluggzillaa · 3 months

Text

You Smoke?

Word Count: 3.6k

✧ Pairing: Joost Klein x GN!Reader

✧ Summary: You and Joost have been apart of the same friend group for a while now but haven't had the chance to get to know each other. Thats till they both go on a smoke break.

✧ Warnings and tags: pet/nicknames(Sweetheart and star) , smoking(cigarettes), just some fluff, acquaintances to lovers, cursing, alcohol consumption, implied smut , panic attack, fainting, claustrophobia, no pronouns, angst if you squint

✧ Authors note: I've recently gotten into Joost and his music. I'm usually not into blonde men but he flipped a switch for me. Enjoy this thing my brain came up with, i'm very proud of it. If I made any mistakes or missed a warning PLEASE LET ME KNOW. Also, my requests are open so please request something so I have an excuse to post more. ps, MINORS SHOO!

⋆.ೃ࿔*

“Say it!”

“Okay, okay I will”

It's a Tuesday night and everyone is tipsy. You and your friend group had spent the majority of the day helping your friend Joost with a video shoot. You then all came back to Apson’s apartment to relax and have a couple drinks. A couple drinks then turned into a bunch of shots. Now you're all sharing stories, obviously extremely dramatized due to the liquor in your system.

“So I bring this girl home after a gig at Bolwerk” Joost starts

When Joost talks, everyone in the room listens. He is constantly the center of attention. He commands a room.

“We get to my place; getting in the mood.. I leave her on the couch so I can get a rubber, but when I get back this girl is passed out!”

“What did you do after?” Apson questioned

“Opzouten! I went to bed and put her in a cab in the morning”

The group laughed and went into separate conversations. Joost stood up from his seat and grabbed his bag.

“Alright, i’m gonna go have a smoke”

“Mind if I come too?” You speak up

He nods towards the balcony and steps out. You follow and close the sliding door behind you. You admire the city as you learn over the railing. Joost looked through his small bag. He let out a sigh and cursed to himself.

“You got a lighter?” he questioned

You nodded and passed him the lighter that was in your pocket. He pulled out two cigarettes , placing one between his lips and handing you the other. He lit his, taking a drag to ensure an even burn. He inhaled then blew out the remaining smoke. He held the cigarette in between his lips and leaned over towards you. You placed the cigarette between your lips and looked up at him. He cupped one of his hands to the side of the cig and turned the lighter on. You scanned his focused face but your attention was stolen by him eyeing you. You took a pull and watched as Joost moved away, still never peeling his eyes from you. You leaned over the railing and watched cars pass below you.

“I had no idea you smoked” Joost broke the silence

“Well we don’t speak much to know anything about each other”

“Which is odd since we hang out so often”

“You hangout with the group often, we don’t hangout at all” You corrected

He chuckled at your snarkiness and finally looked away from you. He admired the skyline and took a drag from his cig. He turned back to you again.

“I know everyone in the group pretty well, besides you”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe, we could get some drinks or go out to eat or something”

“You’re making it sound like a date, Klein”

“You’re the one whos thinking of it like that”

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You agreed to hangout with Joost but tried to find something that didn’t seem so ‘datey’. You decided on going to a local venue where a few underground hardstyle artists were playing. You knew you both had a love for music so you made your plans based on that.

You stood in front of the barricade as you watched people trickle in. You quickly took notice of a familiar blonde haired man walking in, dawning a pair of shades and an ushanka. He searched the crowd till his eyes finally landed on you. A smile pasted itself on to his face and he sped to you.

“Hallo!” He greeted

“Hey.. what's with the shades?”

“I didn’t want anyone to notice me”

“Yea, because no one is going to recognize that bright mullet and your very.. Distinctive style”

He gave you a sarcastic laugh before taking his spot at the barricade. He looked around and took in the venue.

“So do you know anyone in the line up?”

“Nee, but it's always good to support new artist”

You nodded in agreement

“I remember when I was in their position, it always feels good to know that people who are bigger in the scene are interested in your art” He continued

“Enough about me, tell me why you chose this spot”

“Well, I always come to shows like these. It's such a fun atmosphere.. Plus I know how passionate you are about music so I figured it was the perfect way to bring both of our likes together”

“You're very smart”

The comment slightly threw you off but you ignored it and tried to get back into small talk. Before you could even get a word in, the show started. The speakers immediately started blasting music and the room was now lit up by the stage lights above. Joost noticed the crowd begin to get rowdy so he quickly stood behind you and placed his arms on either side of you, hands gripping the barricade. You looked up at him and gave him a thankful smile. You turned back to the front of the stage and moved your body to the beat of the music. Joost looked down at you, ensuring you were comfortable and safe. He eventually let loose and enjoyed the music along with you. The bass and the volume of the music made it extremely difficult to communicate but you did what you could.

“Joost!.. JOOST!” You attempted to grab his attention

“Yea! What do you need?”

“Can you get me a drink?”

“You’ll be good on your own?” He questioned, you gave him a sly look and rolled your eyes

“I am a grown woman, I can handle myself”

He nodded and pushed through the crowd so he could get to the bar in the back. Once he left, you attempted to assimilate yourself with the crowd. Unfortunately, The crowd was getting even more hyped and seemed to lose any sense of awareness for others. Before you knew it, you were pushed into the center of the pit. You were being heavily shoved around and elbowed painfully. You tried to push your way out but the more you struggled, the more it became harder to get out. You’ve been in pits before but only when you intend to; you had never been forced into one. The large amounts of people and the pushing began to make you hyperventilate. Your chest was heaving and your heart was racing. There was a sudden ringing in your ear and before you knew it, black.

You weren’t sure how long you were out but you woke up to a bright light in your face and feeling insanely sweaty. You sat up and the light was moved from your face. The first person you saw was Joost, looking insanely worried. This was the first time you’ve seen him with any other reaction but happy. Once he realized you were awake, he quickly rushed to check on you, looking all around for any marks on you or any signs you needed to be rushed to a hospital. The medics urged him to give you some space but he ignored them.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

“Like I would fucking know.. What happened?”

“You passed out in the pit, Why the fuck would you do that after I left?”

“First of all, I got pushed into the pit.. Second of all, I don’t need your constant protection”

He donned an amused smile and looked up at the medics, ushering them away. He tucked his arm under your armpit and slowly helped you get up.

“Still just as independent as you were before you went out.. Come on i’m taking you home”

“No it’s fine, I’ll get a cab”

“I brought my car. Turn off your ego for a second and let me do something for you”

⋆.ೃ࿔*

Joost pulled up to the front of your apartment building and put his car in park.

“Do you need me to take you upstairs or?”

‘I’ll be fine but thank you”

He nodded and stepped out of the car. Right as you were about to open your own door, he quickly swung it open.

“As the gentleman I am, I should be opening doors for you”

“Joost stop making it weird”

You stepped out of the car and shut the door, snatching it from him. He rolls his eyes and walks you to the door.

“Let's do that again”

“Maybe not THAT.. I think we should just get coffee next time” He joked

You nodded and stopped at your building's front door. Before you opened it, you turned back to Joost and placed a quick peck on his cheek. You gave him a soft smile and opened the door.

“Thank you.. Text me so we can figure out the next time we can hang out”

Joost just stood there, frozen in place. No matter what you said he would just nod in agreement.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You had spent the last week texting back and forth with Joost. It first started off with him checking in on you after what happened at the concert. It then turned into him just talking to you randomly. Now you two can’t go a few hours without talking. After being in the same group for so long, you finally feel like you’re actually getting close to him.

Star: I just finished all my paperwork

Moon: You’ve been working on that stuff for 2 days straight

Star: Yea but its finally over

Moon: Good good

Star: I am really bored right now though

Moon: I’m at the studio right now finishing a project

All the guys just left so it's just me right now

Star: Are you asking me to pull up to the studio?

Moon: Maybe

Star: I’ll see you in 15

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You knocked on the door of the studio and waited for Joost to open. He wasted no time; he practically swung the door off its hinges. He greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you inside. You greeted him with a nod and walked in. You spun around, giving yourself a mini tour of the studio. It was decorated with LED lights and had few plants in the corners. You looked at one of the walls which had a comfy looking brown couch against it. Joost sat down in his chair in front of the control panel. He patted the chair next to him, signaling you to sit. You plopped down in the chair and watched him as he quickly opened his music program on his laptop.

“Listen to this and tell me what you think”

You nodded and followed his every move. He placed the laptop on the desk in front of him and quickly pressed the spacebar, causing the music to play. The song was slower than what you were used to with his music. His voice was very soft, following the beat. The lyrics were extremely heartfelt. Full of love and passion. It was very enjoyable, arguably one of his best songs. He leaned forward in his chair and watched your facial expressions. The song came to a stop and he immediately bombarded you with questions about your opinion.

“It's a very beautiful song.. I love it”

“You don’t think it's missing something, though?”

You shook your head and leaned back in your chair. Joost rubbed the back off his head, thinking. Suddenly something clicked in him. He grabbed your hand and forced you out of your seat. He opened the door to the booth.

“I need you to go into the booth and record something for me, please”

“Fine but you owe me”

He gave you an excited nod and rushed back to his seat. You walked into the booth and shut the door behind you. You looked out the window and spotted Joost ushering you to put on the headphones. Once you did, he spoke through the intercom.

“Okay, so what I want you to do is say ‘Joost, take me to the moon’ but in a soft voice.. Not a whisper though”

You giggled at his specific instructions and gave him an understanding nod. You got up to the mic and gave Joost a thumbs up, signaling that you were ready. A red light turned on above the mic, showing that it was on and recording. You gave yourself an assuring breathe before continuing with the phrase.

“Joost, take me to the moon” You attempted to put on your most calming yet slightly sensual voice

You looked over at him through the window, He just sat there staring at his laptop with an earbud in. He nodded to himself and waved for you to come back out. You hung the headphones back up and walked out of the booth.

“How was it?” You asked

“Fucking perfect.. It was exactly what the song needed”

You smiled to yourself, excited by the praise. He packed up his stuff and grabbed yours as well. He shut off the lights in the studio, The only light in the room being an LED lamp he has on the desk next to all the tech. He stood for a second just admiring the silhouette of your features. Weirdly enough, you did the same. You took notice of the way his nose buttons out and how he constantly had a dimple peeking. Though you couldn’t really see them, you felt his eyes meet yours. The two of you moved together ever so slightly. You two were already so close, if you kept going at this pace you would be directly on top of each other. He placed his hand on your hip and the other on the small of your back. You turned your head to the side and dared to lean your face closer. Right when your lips were going to slightly touch, his ringtone loudly filled the room. He let you go and rushed to grab his phone from his pocket, it was Aspon.

“Shit.. Hallo?” He answered the phone and walked to the other side of the room

You huffed and turned away from him, attempting to snap yourself out of this flustered state. He said goodbye to Aspon and turned back to you.

“Let’s get going”

You nodded in agreement and opened the door. You made your way downstairs and waited for Joost to lead you to the car. The car ride was pretty quiet besides you helping him with directions. You didn’t once acknowledge what happened upstairs. He pulled up in front of your apartment building and put the car in parked. He got out of the car and walked over to the other side, opening the door for you. You stepped out and walked with him to the front door.

“See you soon?”

“Yea, i’ll text you when i’m home.. Okay star?”

You nodded and headed back inside.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

He didn’t

He hasn’t spoken to you in a week. He hasn’t even made any plans to meet with the friend group. You haven’t heard a single thing about Joost. You knew it was kinda awkward after what happened but you didn’t think it was that bad. You spent day and night last week waiting for any sign of him. The more time that went by with no contact, the more time you began to gave up. That was till you actually gave up. You no longer spent your mornings trying to get pretty in case he wanted to hang out. You no longer tried looking for new ideas of things you could do together. You just stopped trying all together. You had no interest in putting so much effort into someone who obviously didn't care much for you.

You laid in your bed on your laptop, doom scrolling. You hadn’t found a way to stop until your phone chimed. You turned your head to the device and saw a text from someone you haven’t spoken to in a while.

Moon: You busy?

You stared at the text and contemplated whether you should answer or not. It was like his words were a spell, pushing you to respond. You picked up your phone and quickly got to typing.

Star: No

Why?

Moon: I’m having a get together for the release of my new song

Star: Okay

Moon: And I was wondering if you’d like to come

Star: Where is it and when?

Moon: At my place

Tonight at 8

Star: I’ll see

He sent you one last text but you didn’t bother to check. You wondered how he had the balls to contact you after leaving you in the dark for so long. You also wondered how he had so much control over you to make you give in so easily.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You knocked on Joost's apartment door. You had only been here once before for a get together that Ski had invited your group to. You don’t really remember it much because you started drinking as soon as you got there.

Joost opened the door. A slight smile creeped onto his face. It immediately dropped when he realized you weren’t as happy to see him as he was you. You walked straight inside and looked around to see if you recognized anyone. To your surprise, no one was even there. You turned to him with a confused yet slightly confused face.

“Where did everyone go?” you questioned

“You’re the first one to arrive”

You scoff and walk further into the apartment. You spot the bottles of alcohol and mixers on his dining room table. You grab a cup and begin to fill your cup with a mix of vodka and cranberry juice. You took a sip, making a face at the taste of liquor. You turned back around and trailed to the couch. You plopped down and leaned against the arm of the seat. Joost walked towards you and gently sat down onto the cushion next to you. There was a moment of awkward silence before he finally decided to break it.

“I’m sorry”

“About?”

“The other night..”

“Are you really sorry about the other night or are you sorry about going ghost?”

“Both?”

“What exactly are you sorry for?”

“Um..”

There was a moment of silence again. You watched him as he fidgeted and bit the inside of his cheek. He finally turned to you. His cheeks were a light shade of pink and his eyes were slightly wider. You sat on your legs and leaned closer to him.

“Are you sorry or do you just regret something”

“Maybe I do have some regrets”

“Was it not kissing me?” You said boldly

He kept quiet but his eyes kept flickering to your lips. You leaned closer, practically being pulled towards him. He let out a desperate sigh and leaned into you. Your lips brushed against each other. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to finally get to kiss him. Then the bell rang. You pulled away and threw your hands up in defeat. Joost got up to answer the door. You grabbed your cup and walked out to the balcony. After that, there wasn’t a moment where the door was closed. The apartment was now full. Everyone was packed in like sardines yet everyone was still having a great time. Joost pushed through the crowd and rushed to you.

“I’m about to release the song, come!”

You stood up from your chair and followed after him. The two of you stood with your group of friends. He grabbed his laptop and pressed the upload button. Once it was up, he pressed play and allowed his song to fill the room. It was a slow and sweet melody. Everything you said in the studio stood to be true. It was a perfectly beautiful song. It was full of love and passion. The song was coming to an end, a part you had never heard.

jij bent het mooiste waar ik mijn ogen op heb gericht, mijn ster

(you're the most beautiful thing I have laid my eyes on, My star)

Your mind went cloudy. The name took you by surprise. To anyone else it would seem like a random nickname, but to you it meant so much more. In the background you heard your voice closing out the song.

Joost, Take me to the moon

Everyone clapped and cheered for Joost. You turned to him with a dreamy expression on your face. He was just smiling down at you, tuning out the entire room. He made your blank expression turn into a wide smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

Joost said goodbye to the last few guests and turned to you. You stood directly behind him with a huge smile on your face that hasn’t gone away since he revealed the song. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a long awaited kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as he melted into the kiss. He placed one of his hands onto the small of your back and the other on the back of your head. You reached your hand up and combed through the blonde’s mullet. He took a sharp breath in through his nose whilst pulling away. He gave you a goofy love struck smile. You panted as you attempted to catch your breath. You giggled at the sight of the very red Joost.

“So is that why you didn’t speak to me all week?”

“Yea.. I just got so caught up in making it perfect for you, Schat”

You pulled him back into the kiss, this time it was even more heated and passionate. He trailed his hands down and placed them on the back of your thighs. He tapped on your skin, signaling you to jump up. You did as you were instructed and wrapped your legs around his waist. He held onto you and walked you over to his room, never once breaking the kiss.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

joostklein

The Netherlands

♡ ❍ ➣

205,750 likes

joostklein “Love letter to a star” Out Now! ✨

View all 1,200 comments

June 15

bbnomula: I LOVE JOOST KLEIN

nelib0st: who’s the song about

yungpepsi: Omg is joost dating some1

missharli: Beautiful

ticetip: JOOST LET ME BE YOUR STAR

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #joost klein #joostice #justice for joost #joost #europapa #i love joost #fluff

294 notes · View notes

rom-e-o · 3 months

Note

After Wolf and Bess get together, at a "small" gala the Twins and girls attend, an old, pretty face from their past shows back up. Not Isabel or Belle. They would be welcomed.

Turns out, years ago when the Twins were in their 30s, Marley took on another apprentice. She was quite young, early-early 20s, smart, but more ambitious than anything. Like, so ambitious it was both an asset and flaw.

She didn't stay working for Marley long as she was snapped up quickly by even bigger bosses due to her talents, both in numbers but mostly in bed. Yeah, she's one of those people. Which I mean, get your bag, I guess? Can't say I agree with the methods, but as long as you're not hurting people, better for my mind to keep out of it. (Also, yeah, she most likely got her position with Marley by exchanging some favors.)

She was never romantically or sexually involved with the Twins. They were rebuffing advances hard and barely registering people's sexes by that stage. But she was definitely interested, and in Wolf especially. She did a lot of the street work with him, always opting to accompany him even if she had other duties in the office. Yes, she propositioned him. A lot. Again, he never bit. Honestly can't tell you if he even ever considered that she was being serious. Not very long after finally getting the vibe this thing was never going anywhere, she dipped and got taken on by a fish bigger than Marley.

Then, years later, she shows up at this party. Successful, married, well known, stunning and vibrant. She's got everything.

Now, when I say she's stunning, here's the thing: she and Bess resemble each other somewhat. Dark curls, dark eyes (this chick's eyes are almost black they're so dark brown), cool complexion, freckles (this girl only has a few cute ones over her nose and cheeks), full lips, hippy and bootylicious, taller than average. Except this woman is willowy and petite in frame as opposed to Bess' stout shieldmaiden-esque build. She's also busty. Not Connie levels, but she's got some spectacular girls to show off compared to Bess. Woman is the definition of a bombshell, especially showing up in the dress she does which may as well just be a few strips of luxurious cloth sewn together. (But damn if they don't fit her amazingly and look more glam than the dress Bess has on.)

She's also extremely bubbly in a self-centered and sexually charged way. She sees the boys, rushes them to embrace them, and is almost immediately yapping about her life while skillfully working in references about her exploits. ("Sammy?! Charlie?! Oh my God, how are you?! I haven't seen you two in... Bloody fuck, how long has it been? At least a dozen CEOs I've been under since Marley! Hahaha! Oh, boys, let's catch up, shall we? Have I got tales to tell you! Where should I start? Oh, I know! I'll start with my first marriage. I met my first husband on his honeymoon in Bora Bora, you know. Without his clothes, he wasn't much to look at, but that's what alcohol is for, yes? He wasn't much of a fuck either, honestly, but he certainly did open my eyes to some new things I went on to try with my second and third husbands.")

Btw, she does this while the girls are away for a moment in the powder room, so when they come back they're smacked in the face with a strange woman loudly regaling their men with a story of how her first orgy was, funnily enough, in a board room. ("It certainly changed my bar for how board meeting should be handled, I'll tell you that!") Adonis looks uncomfortable to say the least. Wolf, who definitely got used to this sort of sexual talk from this woman so many years ago, has the look of, "Yep, just another Tuesday".

The women are introduced. The interloper quickly latches onto Connie being Adonis' fiancée. ("So you're what could finally get him to open up and settle down. Ha! Never thought it possible! Tell me, Darling, what's Sammy like without his clothes on? The time I had trying to find out! I thought maybe they didn't come off; maybe they were permanently sutured to his skin!")

Bess is hardly given a "howdy-do". Wolf does introduce her as his sweetheart, of course, but it earns Bess a particularly but subtly chilling gaze from the interloper. ("Girlfriend? Oh, how nice. Such a cute little thing. Young too. Finally sowing those oats, ey, Charlie?")

As the night goes on, the interloper remains latched to the group, especially the boys, especially Wolf. Wolf is always beside Bess, of course; never bites at all the hooks the interloper throws out... but he doesn't really rebuff her either? He kind of just seems... oblivious to all of her passes and insinuations. To be fair, they can be hard to pick up sometimes as every other thing that comes out of this woman's mouth seems to be related to sex. (The group is painfully aware of how many marriages she's had--on her seventh--and what each one really liked to do in bed.)

At some point Bess goes to get a drink. Much to her annoyance, the interloper comes with. As they're at the refreshment table, a conversation is struck up.

"So. You and Charlie, hm?"

"Yes. Wolf and me."

"Wolf? Your pet name for him? Haha! That's cute! Did he get that from the bedroom scene?"

"Um, no. No, he's always been Wolf to me. Even when we were friends."

"Ah. So he's not a wolf in the sack then?"

"... I really don't think that's any of your business."

"Oh, come on, Love. We're both adult women here. You're a wannabe midwife--you're not exactly uneducated about the relationships between men and women. I tried to shag your Wolf for years and couldn't make him bat an eye, and now a cherubic little girl like you comes along and suddenly, not only is he shagging, he's calling you his "sweetheart". Do a fellow girl and favor and satisfy her curiosity."

"I'd rather not."

"... Oh. Oh, I see. You're one of those."

"One of those?"

"Yeah, one of those little prudes. The little prudes that call liberated women like me "whores" and "sluts" because they're jealous I can get men and action they can't."

"Maybe you get called those things because you seem thirsty for anything with a dick that walks on two legs and actively pursue taken men."

"Ah. So the little cherub does have some bite. All right. Maybe you're not a prude."

"Maybe I'm not."

"Maybe you're something worse. One of those pious little girls that's "saving herself for marriage". As if that's something to aspire to."

"Not that it's any of your business either, but I'm not waiting for marriage."

"No. But "somebody special", I'll bet. Or "when you feel ready"."

Bess can't say anything. That's exactly what she's waiting for, what she's making Wolf wait for.

"Ha. In that case, Charlie's definitely going to need a real woman to show him what a good time is tonight. Well, doesn't the universe work in mysterious ways."

"The universe or your assistant reading the guest list for this party?"

"What's it matter when such amazing opportunities arise?"

"Aren't you remarried? Like, newly?"

"Hahaha! Oh my, little frumpy cherub, haven't you learned anything about me tonight? Rings never stop me, whether they're his or mine."

"You honestly think you can make Wolf give you a second glance when I'm right there beside him?"

"He'll have to give me all the glances if you're not here, won't he?"

"What?"

With a quick look around to see if anyone is noticing, the interloper picks up the bowl of punch and just dumps it over Bess before she can even react. "Oh my god--I'm so sorry! Typical me--just can't control my intrusive thoughts sometimes. At least it's not a total loss--this look wasn't doing anything for you."

Bess can just stand in shock and boiling fury. She hasn't endured anything like this since high school. And maybe that's what sets her mindset back to make her react like she does from here on out.

"Go home, L&D nurse. Maybe your old Marley's daughter, but you and I both know you don't belong here. And you certainly don't belong with someone like Charlie."

And with that the interloper walks away back to rejoin the group.

Bess just runs after that. She doesn't think, she just leaves the gala without a word and catches a taxi back to the cottage. It's not until she's already on the way home she thinks to let the others know she's left, and it's only text messages that start coming in that makes her think of it.

Connie: ~Hey, are you okay? [Interloper] said you weren't feeling well and decided to leave? Do you want me to come home and help you?~

Wolf: ~Are you all right? [Interloper] said you were feeling ill and left. Do I need to come take you to a hospital?~

Bess just tells them not to worry and that she's fine, just going home early to rest, and they should stay at the party. After all, she doesn't want them to see her this way. And the interloper was right: She didn't belong back there. And who is she even kidding? She hardly belongs with Wolf either.

She finds the cottage, mercifully empty when she gets there (except for Sunshine, of course) and just strips down as she beelines for the bathroom, throwing her dress in the trash on the way. Bess doesn't know how long she sits in the shower, but the water is cold before she gets out. And she cries the entire time.

(Why do I keep dreaming up all these horrible scenarios for Bess while you give me nice ones for Connie?)

OHHH BESS. ;; Bess, Bess, I want to hug her so bad.

First of all, Interloper has done the impossible - she's at Karen levels of annoying. Now, we don't know if she's abusive like Karen, BUT from the sound of her, she sound like an emotionally and potentially physically manipulative bully to others.

It is INTERESTING how she looks similar to Bess, but she's still obviously jealous of Bess:

Bess is beautiful. They look alike, after all. They're built different, but both are womanly and gorgeous.

Bess is YOUNGER than her. She seems like the type of person that would be annoyed by that, especially since she can't buy time back. she even tries to demean Bess by calling her 'cute' or 'cherubic.' Bess is a younger woman, and it irks her.

Annnnnd finally, Bess has Wolf; the prize SHE wanted but could never get, even in the 'prime of her life.' Even when they look similar. He never chose her. That must eat her up.

The way she flutters up and gets insanely personal with the Twins SO quickly is beyond tone-deaf. Like, time and place! Also, when someone clearly isn't in to you, you GOTTA take a hint!

I picture the ladies coming back from the powder room and seeing this woman accosting the boys. Wolf looks unamused and Adonis looks uncomfortable.

Connie sees Adonis looking flustered and goes in to redirect the woman's attention and help. Connie reads and clocks her pretty quick, I'd imagine. Her comment about him undressing earns a chuckle, and not a friendly one.

"Well, [Interloper] it's much easier to get one out of their clothes when there is mutual interest in the whole affair. I assure you, my Adonis and I have no such concerns. He is positively sterling in ALL regards." As then kisses Adonis' cheek for good measure and smiles. Then she gives Bess a nervous glance. You know the look, it says "girlfriend, watch out for this one."

This woman's attitude and verbiage toward Bess would catch Wolf's attention. He picks up on her choice of words, and with eat passive-aggressive taunt earns a squeeze from Wolf. His lips even skim the crown of her head as he calls her "sweetheart."

I don't think Wolf stops the Interloper from following Bess to the drink table because, honestly, it doesn't don on him that this woman would go for Bess. He thinks, "I can ignore her, so can Bess." He might not realize immediately that women play a little dirty with each other, and that perhaps she has other goals.

THEN, the punch situation. I don't blame Bess for leaving, poor woman. just to ... escape it.

When Interloper comes back, red flags are everywhere.

"Where did Bess go?" Wolf asks her, his tone only slightly suspicious. He's more concerned.

"No clue," she shrugs. "Feeling sick, she said. Stomach bug. Poor girl. Oh, but don't you worry, Wolf-y. I'll keep you entertained."

Annnnd the sirens go off. She should NOT know that nickname. His brow furrows.

Connie and Wolf text her, but her message that she left provides little comfort. She's safe, but ... it's not right. Connie stares her down, her face a mask of doubt.

C: Interesting timing of her illness, all things considered.

I: Just what are you implying?

Meanwhile, Wolf is obviously antsy. Looking around. He looks out of sorts without his Brightness at his side.

Wolf: Something isn't right. ... Sammy, you're going to hate me for this, but-

Adonis: Charlie, go check on her. I'll handle any speeches if we're called on stage, and Connie and I will ... distract our friend. It shouldn't be hard.

Wolf gives his a thankful squeeze on the shoulder and darts out. He grabs a cab and makes a beeline for the cottage. As he arrives, he texts her to let her know he's on his way. I imagine he has a key by this point, but he's not going to just creep in.

Then, he calls and leaves a voicemail:

W: Brightness, it's me. I'm outside. I wanted to check on you. You left so suddenly. If you're sick, I'd much rather help you feel well than spend another second in that stuffy ballroom and hear [Interloper] talk about ... ugh, I apologize for her. If she did anything, I need you to tell me. I can If you get this, can you just ... let me know that you're really okay? You know what I mean.

A part of him hopes he's not being too smothering, but ... he has a feeling in his gut. And he means every word. No gala is worth attending without her company.

It's the DRAMA, the delicious hurt-comfort goodness!

Meanwhile: Interloper continues to be loud and obnoxious, all while Adonis and Connie chug champagne to tolerate her.

#scroogeverse #count you days Interloping Irene

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lambertdiary · 1 year

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hey i love your work so much! im so glad there’s people writing for this lovely character

i was wondering if you could write about him meeting one of Chris friends, he is very intrigued by her but can’t find her anywhere after that brief encounter, one day Dalton is supposed to pick up Chris after class but since he arrived quiet early decides to explore the area since he doesn’t come to that side of the school often, one of the classrooms is open and there’s piano music coming of it and is the reader. They have a proper introduction and Dalton tries to be brave for once and ask for her number, little did he know chris was watching him and let’s just say the way back to the dorms she was teasing him about the girl.

A/N: i can't tell you how much i loved this request! sorry it took so long to write but i hope you like it! as always please let me know what you think <3 (also in this fic chris and dalton are still roommates)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: pure fluff

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

Music To My Ears

Meeting new people never came easy for Dalton. He was very shy and reserved, but so loving and kind to his friends. Which is exactly why the most outgoing and confident person he’s ever encountered adopted him almost immediately after they met.

Right now, he was hanging out in his dorm with Chris, his best friend. They were currently watching dumb scary videos on her laptop with a big bowl of popcorn between them. They had been doing that for about an hour, an hour they were supposed to use to do their homework but whatever awful and fake scary video they could find on youtube was surely more entertaining than that. Most of the time they were not scary at all, sure there were a few screamers here and there but the rest of it was just a bad story, bad editing and even worse acting.

Their focus was 100% on the screen, until Chris’ phone made them both jump. She paused the video and picked up her phone, typing a few words before putting it down again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for someone”

“Oh, so you double booked me?” He asked, acting offended.

Chris rolled her eyes and pushed herself off of the bed “Your acting is worse than the guys on the videos” Now he was a little offended “No, she’s just here to return something”

Chris walked across the room and opened the door, not all the way but enough for Dalton to see someone standing outside. A girl.

“Hey” Chris said, and Dalton could see the girl smile “How did it go with the presentation?”

“Hi! Really good actually, piano skills really do transfer over to this thing” She was holding Chris’ Melodica before giving it back.

“See? Told you, if I can do it you for sure can”

“Yeah, thank you” She smiled again and looked at her hands while she played with them “I cleaned it too so don’t worry”

“Oh I’m not worried” Chris joked and both of them chuckled.

“Alright, thanks again. See you on friday!”

“Any time, see you!” She said before closing the door. Dalton quickly grabbed his phone and pretended to pay full attention to it “Now what? Should we keep watching or should we be responsible students and do some work?”

“There’s only 11 minutes left of this video, we’ll stop after this one, I promise” Chris agreed and went back to bed, where they ended up staying for another 2 hours.

Dalton couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. He wanted to ask Chris about her but he couldn’t possibly, what was he gonna do? Talk to her? Probably not, but if she and Chris are actual friends then he would for sure run into her again, right?

A week went by and there were no signs of the mysterious girl, not even on Friday, when she and Chris were supposed to see each other. But Dalton figured he would rather stay curious than be embarrassed.

It was Taco Tuesday and it was their special tradition to eat a lot of tacos after class. Dalton’s class was dismissed early so after dropping his things off in his dorm, he made his way to pick up Chris from the Math building. Once he got there, he checked the time and realized that he was a little early. He's not really familiar with that part of campus, going there every once in a while and only for a few minutes to wait for Chris, so walking around exploring for a bit while Chris’s class was over seemed like a good idea. He started wandering around, peeking at a few different open classrooms but not seeing anything interesting, he deduced it was just like any other part of campus. Plain and boring.

He was about to turn around and return to his original spot, Chris was about to come down anyway, but before he could start walking, a beautiful melody caught his attention.

He looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where it was coming from, finally seeing an open room he didn’t see before, a sign with the words ‘Music Room’ above the big doors. As he got closer, the piano melody got louder. It was like a force was dragging him to that room, it was like his soul needed to see who was playing the piano so beautifully.

He stood outside, going in carefully as to not disturb whoever was playing there. The song kept going and Dalton could almost recognize it, it was so gracefully played it made him understand why someone would dedicate their entire life to music. As he got closer, he identified the person behind the large piano, he saw the girl that made him go crazy just last week. He felt his heart rate go significantly higher, debating on his mind if he should leave or talk to her.

When the song ended, Dalton decided to go for it. I mean, who knew if the universe would give him another chance to talk to her? It was now or never.

She was about to start playing a different melody but was interrupted by a voice she has never heard before “That was beautiful”

She looked up at the person standing in front of her “Thank you” She was used to strangers complimenting her talent, it happened to her all the time, but thinking that he was listening to her play made her really nervous.

“I’m Dalton by the way” He introduced himself and found his way next to the piano.

“Right, I remember you” She smiled “You’re Chris’ roommate”

“I am, yeah”

“Y/N”

“Y/N” he repeated her name, slowly. Almost as if he was tasting every syllable “Nice to meet you”

“Nice to finally meet you, Dalton. Chris tells me a lot about you” Dalton knew his face was burning, there was no hiding it, and he was a little embarrassed by it “I take it your artistic self draws you to music”

“Well, I was just walking by and I heard you play so-” He didn’t wanna sound like a creep, the last thing he wanted was for her to think that he was stalking her. She didn’t think that, but she wanted to mess with him anyway.

“So… you interrupted my sacred rehearsal”

“I didn’t- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you- your rehearsal uh- I guess I should get going— oh, you’re kidding. Okay”

Y/N burst into laughter, wishing she had a camera to capture Dalton’s terrified face. Something about him made her feel some kind of way, a good kind of way “Do you like piano?”

“My mom plays the piano”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in amusement “Do you play?”

“Just a little bit… but you’re like a professional so in your eyes not at all, I suppose” Y/N chuckled.

“Show me”

Dalton’s eyes widened, no way she just asked him to play piano for her “What?”

“Yeah, do you know any song you can play for me?”

“Uh- Just this one song my mom wrote years ago”

“Go on then, play it for me” Y/N scooted over a little, making space for Dalton to sit next to her. Dalton looked at her unsure of what to do, not wanting to make a fool of himself “You just heard me play an entire song, it’s only fair”

Dalton let out a nervous laugh, but sat next to her on the stool. He was nervous and he was having a hard time remembering the right notes, but after a minute of staring at the keys he finally started playing. He didn’t play much, he didn’t remember much of the song and even if he did, he wouldn’t know how to play it. But Y/N loved every second of it.

“That’s all I can remember”

“Well, tell your mom she’s very talented” She said, not looking at him “And if you can remember the rest of the song, I would love to hear it sometime”

Dalton paid attention to their hands, they were really close to each other. And after building up the courage he asked her “Can I have your number? You know, just in case I have to show you the rest of the song”

“Yeah, just in case” Dalton pulled out his phone and handed it to her “Text me” She said typing her contact information on his phone and then giving it back.

“I will” Dalton looked at his screen, admiring her name on his contact list. Then a notification appeared on top.

Chris: Sorry I made you wait, but I’m going downstairs right now

“Uh- sorry, I have to go, but we’ll talk later” Dalton said, standing up and walking to the exit.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for your text” She smiled at him again.

They waved goodbye and he left that room behind, his heart was racing and his hands were sweating, he couldn’t believe he asked for her number. As he approached the building, he spotted Chris standing there waiting for him “Sorry, something came up” He said, gesturing to her to start walking.

“What? Miss music over there?” Chris said pointing at the music room.

“What are you-?”

“Yeah, I saw you coming out and Y/N always practices there when it’s empty. Plus, I saw you eyeing her the other day”

Dalton blushed again “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t even try. I told you, your acting sucks”

Dalton sighed “Chris, please don’t-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything… But I bet she already knows”

“What?”

“I mean, I think she can tell when someone is flirting with her. Or at least trying to”

“Hey, I’m great at flirting”

“We can ask her” She said, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Stop, please” Dalton took it from her hands and put it back in her pocket. He didn’t think she would actually ask Y/N, but just in case.

“Aw, you’re properly in love” Chris said with a fake british accent.

Dalton rolled his eyes and kept walking, pretending not to care about the teasing but his blushed face giving him away.

“It’s okay,I’ll keep the secret. She gave you her number didn’t she?”

“For your information, I asked for it”

“Oh, go Dolphin!”

After their taco date, Dalton went back to his dorm and planned to call his mum. First of all, he hasn’t called her as much as he promised he would and second of all, he wanted to ask about the song.

“Hey sweetie” Renai said on the other line “It’s so good to hear from you, how have you been?”

“Hi mom, I’m okay, what about you? How is dad?”

“We’re great! Busy getting his things back into the house. How’s school?”

“School is good. Uh- listen, is there any way you can teach me the song you wrote for dad?” He asked, it didn’t go as smoothly as he had planned.

“You wanna learn my song?” Renai sounded confused, which made sense considering Dalton stopped asking questions about her music years ago.

“Uh- yeah. Well it’s been a while since I’ve heard it and I can’t really remember much” He chuckled in hopes of making the situation less awkward.

“Mhm” She hummed “I’m gonna pretend I believe you’re just genuinely curious about the song and that you don't have ulterior motives”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #ty simpkins #insidious #insidious 5 #insidious the red door #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert smut

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lucaaazd · 4 months

Text

Reibert bus shenanigans part 2. Read part 1 here. Anyways START SCENE

“Stay cool, stay cool,” The blond boy clutched the back of a seat, “All we gotta do is take the bus the other way, right?”

Bertolt was inconsolable. Take the bus the other way? What’s he talking about? He had no money. Why couldn’t Dad have given him a metro card with more than one ride on it? He cussed himself for losing his student pass in a school toilet on Taco Tuesday. He’d had too much beans and rice and was eager to leave the crime scene in case the next person who used the bathroom linked his presence to the radioactive stench. Being caught stinking up the already disgusting boys’ bathroom would be his social death, although to be honest he was getting there without the help of a poopy reputation. There’s no way he’s getting back home. Fluorescent street lights flew past the windows in a bright, ghostly arch, illuminating the run-down, industrial cityscape. Bertolt had only been to Queens twice to visit his family friends, the Galliards’. They lived in a three-story house with an overgrown backyard and chain link fences, and Bertolt had marveled at how much bigger everything was there. The streets were wider, the gas stations enormous, miles of parking garages the size of malls overlooked the highway. The highway. “We’re literally on the highway!” Bertolt sobbed.

“Eh, yeah,” the other boy agreed, “Hm,” he looked down at his feet, any residual pompousness evaporated.

“What’s wrong, darlings?” Squeaked an old woman with a walker. They had caused quite a scene. Bertolt went bright red, “Eh, nothing.”

“Dear me, you lads seem quite young to be taking the bus all by yourselves,” the lady said, “How old are you kids?”

“13,” said the blond kid, puffing up his chest.

“12,” Lied Bertolt. He was turning eleven in a week and a half.

“Oh my,” the woman stood up with difficulty, her shriveled arms shaking like mad above her walker, “Not lost, are you?”

Bertolt looked around quickly and registered the fact that they were the only people on the bus. “No,” both boys said at the same time and looked at each other, flabbergasted. “Hold on,” Bertolt remembered something, “Where’s your phone?”

“Right here,” the boy waved his ginormous iPhone twelve with its Spider-Man case and four cameras.

“Oh,” a hint of resentment flashed through Bertolt, “Can you look up where we are?”

“Eh, no.”

“Why?” Resentment quickly festered into annoyance.

“It’s dead,” said the kid, “Where’s your phone?”

Oh. Duh. “Dead,” said Bertolt bashfully.

“Why didn’t you charge it before you left?” The boy prodded.

“I did,” Bertolt felt defensive, “it’s old.”

“I saw you watching Ice Spice.”

“Hey!” Said Bertolt, “it’s none of your business. Why were you spying?” He bit back.

“You were playing it from your phone really loud. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

“No I wasn’t. I had my headphones in,” gasped Bertolt.

“Guess you didn’t charge your headphones either,” the annoying new boy shrugged.

Bertolt turned scarlet. So the whole bus could hear him. Great. Everyone probably thought he was a little weirdo.

“I don’t blame you. She’s hot,” said the other boy with a longing look. Bertolt’s ears started burning. “Barbie World is a really good song, okay?” he stuttered.

“Sure,” the kid towered over him, waggling his eyebrows, “You totally don’t wanna ‘undress her everywhere’.”

“Ew!” Bertolt protested.

“I wish she had more melons,” his eyes began to cross, “The things I would do to them…”

Bertolt felt extremely uncomfortable, “Please stop. Seriously.”

“I’m Reiner, by the way,” the boy snapped out of his daze with a sheepish smile, “What’s your name?”

“Bertolt,” Bertolt answered reluctantly, bracing for taunts.

“Burger?” Reiner repeated.

“Bertolt,” Bertolt said a little louder.

“Okay Birdsack,” said Reiner, “Let’s get off this fucking bus.”

Bertolt gasped at his audacity. He was disliking the boy more by the minute. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“So,” Reiner whistled, jumping up and hanging onto the bar with one hand, “let’s - wait.”

“I think,” said Bertolt apprehensively, “We might be waiting for a really long time.”

Before Reiner could respond, bus driver barked, “No swinging!” It caught Reiner off guard and he fell right into a pole. “Ow!”

Bertolt watched with little sympathy as the older boy clutched his right knee, hopping on one foot with a pained expression.

“Easy love,” the nice lady with the walker cooed over Reiner, “Want to get off the bus, you said?”

Bertolt nodded furiously. The lady smiled and pointed at a red button next to her head that spelled “STOP” in all cap. She pushed it and a ��ding!” issued from the speaker. “Stop requested,” it announced.

“That’s it?” Bertolt said in disbelief.

“Never took the bus before?” The woman grinned toothlessly.

Bertolt stared around him like he’d never taken a proper look at the inside of a bus before. Now that he’s paying attention, there were indeed red buttons everywhere that said “STOP”. The answer was right in front of him this whole time. Bertolt wanted to slap himself. It’s true that he didn’t take the bus very often. Mom didn’t like them. She said it was a vertigo thing, plus they came rather sporadically. Bertolt’s mother was a career woman with very short patience and had sworn off the bus due to the one time they had to wait an hour for the M4 after her meeting at a partner hotel on the East Side. Bertolt had to listen to her rant about how disorganized and inefficient the MTA was as a company and in a lower voice, how rude the bus driver was when her card kept declining. Bertolt tuned out the rest as usual by thinking about that cute girl in his social studies class. He must have had a faraway look in his eyes because his mom had grabbed him by the ear seconds later, hissing at him to pay attention. “Well, there, that’s your stop, young man,” the old lady pointed at the back door.

The bus had come to a stop, sending Reiner crashing into the seat in front of him. “Come on,” Bertolt thought about lending him a hand but instead tucked both into his pockets.

“Okay,” Reiner grimaced as he followed Bertolt to the door. For a moment, they both stared at the glass screen, unsure of what to do.

“Touch the yellow tape to open door,” the same robotic voice from earlier said. Bertolt pushed the yellow strip and the double doors folded aside. “Thanks, ma’am!” Bertolt muttered before hurrying off the bus.

“Good luck, kids!” Said the woman, waving at them from the window, “The other bus is across the street!”

Indeed, the desolate, dimly lit little bus stop stood twenty feet before them. Bertolt looked both ways to make sure no car was coming before crossing the road in a jog. “Wait up, Borgat,” Reiner called after him, panting. Remembering that he had fucked up his leg earlier, Bertolt felt like an asshole. He turned around and reluctantly lent Reiner a shoulder, which the other boy clung onto for dear life. Together they wobbled to the sad little bench in front of a Viagra ad. Bertolt studied the twin cups with a curious expression. “Those don’t work,” said Reiner expertly, wincing as he eased himself down onto the bench.

“I don’t get why you can’t just get more toothpaste,” said Bertolt.

Reiner looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” Bertolt shot back.

“Nothing,” said the other boy.

They watched the scarce traffic go by the poorly lit street. “How do we know when the bus is coming?” Bertolt wondered out loud.

“Dunno,” Reiner shrugged, “Oh, I think you can text a number.”

“Great!” Bertolt clapped his hands together, “Let’s text the number.”

Awkward silence hung in the air. “Or,” Reiner coughed into his hand, “We just wait.”

They waited for what felt like fifteen minutes, during which Bertolt adamantly avoided eye contact with the other boy. He distracted himself by thinking about Annie, whose number he acquired last week during recess after half the boys in his class egged him on. They had looked shocked when he came back with ten digits scribbled on the palm of his hand and no bruises anywhere. “No way,” one of them held Bertolt’s hand like it was a piece of important evidence at a crime scene, “it’s probably fake. She’s messing with him. Let’s call it after school.” The same boy’s jaws were slack when she actually picked up later that day, sounding bored as ever. She’s the coolest. She wore her hair down yesterday and Bertolt found himself not so casually staring at her the whole period, earning himself a few extra head smacks from Mrs. Mcleod. For some reason Mrs. Mcleod had decided to dress code Annie as soon as class was over, and she returned from the principle’s office wearing an ugly wrinkly school T-shirt that said “MSC” instead of the blue tank top. She was still cute when she was fuming.

“What’s with that smile?” Reiner’s voice snapped him back into an Annie-less reality, “Thinking about Ice Spice again?”

How dare he make such a vile allegation? “No!” Bertolt bellowed.

“Chill. I have a proposal,” said Reiner.

Bertolt waited for him to continue.

“You see that deli over there?” Reiner gestured behind them at the sketchiest looking deli Bertolt had ever seen, its narrow doorway lit up beneath the man-sized Viagra bottle. “Let’s see if we could charge our phones there.”

“I don’t have a charger. Or money,” Bertolt worried.

“Me neither,” said Reiner in a mock sing-songy voice, “I could use some Taki’s though.” He made to get up and Bertolt had to try and stop him, “But your leg! Plus, I have a feeling we shouldn’t go in there.” Bertolt eyed the men hanging out outside the shop, smoking cigarettes with their backs against the graffitied walls.

“Fine, you wait here then,” Reiner pushed Bertolt’s hand away and strode towards the deli.

“Wait up! Don’t leave me here alone,” Bertolt whined. When Reiner didn’t answer, he gritted his teeth and followed the older boy.

END SCENE

#aot #attack on titan #reibert #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #annie leonhart #RBA

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greypetrel · 3 months

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Happy Talk Shop Tuesday! What's one trope/cliche that you would never get tired of (reading and/or writing)? What's one that you love but you think it's overdone/not typically done well? And what's one that makes you dnf? <3 - @fieldsofview

Hello! Ooooooh these are juicy questions eheheheh thank you! @fieldsofview

I never get tired of a good redemption arc. Call me naive, but as a person with anxiety problems, reading stories where people go back and fix their mess... It's hopeful. Even when they're not done as well as it could have been, I'd rather three Cullen done half-way than believing people can't change for the right reason. As long as the change comes from inside and not "I'll change for love"...

Also, I love cocky, flamboyant and highly theatrical characters hiding vulnerability like that. Give me an histrionic person that I would totally punch irl and I'm yours. (Dorian in Dragon Age. Jareth the goblin king in Labyrinth. Nikolaj Lantsov in the Geishaverse. That kind of character.)

I love enemies to lovers but I agree it's difficult to find one done well. I come from being in the ace spectrum, I NEVER understood meet-cutes. Enemies that just take one look at each other and jumps on each other... I don't like it, I'd love to see a buildup PARTICULARLY because they're enemies. Horniness is just not it if they are supposed to hate each other.

(and just to further my point: Pride and Prejudice is an enemies to lovers.)

My hugest nopes are incest, non-con, secret twins and "she's not like other girls".

Meet-cutes are annoying to me but if it's written well and there's an evolution after, it's fine.

My biggest pet peeve is justifying shitty plot twists in fantasy with "But it's historically accurate". When you have dragons flying and magic.

I'm all for taking inspiration by history! But if we're talking about fantasy, historical accuracy I feel is only ever used to justify shitty decisions that often involve abuse that's not even necessary for the plot, or lack of representation or harmful stereotypes.

These are of course just my personal opinions, of course, no shaming people who like those things to read and write! I'm just not their target audience.

#petrel replies #fandom critical #writers critical #it's all purely personal taste of course #and my taste is no better than another person's #to each their own!#every hint at a very popular saga I won't name is absolutely not casual

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maygrantgf · 1 year

Text

temptation tuesday

tagged by @honestlydarkprincess 😘

another day another couple hundred ideas...will they ever become wips?? who knows!

buddie move into a "haunted" house crack exactly what it sounds like LMAO they move into a new house and its gonna basically be like

buck: babe our house is haunted that piece of furniture just moved RIGHT in front of us???

eddie: .... no i do not see it,,, im going to bed❤️

buddie first argument buck and eddie have their first fight and a couple and it leaks into the firehouse. chim and hen are nosy and want to know what they're fighting about (and bc they care!! like why are their friends fighting??) so they basically interrogate them separately and help them try to talk to each other like normal ppl

eddie buying anniversary present for buck cashier scares him with gambling story this is so sjfhjdks its really silly and came to me super randomly but eddie goes shopping with hen to buy an anniversary present and they come across this cute lil shop. eddie goes to pay and the cashier is VERY nosy and also VERY talkative. imma just say she tells eddie unprompted about her gambling addict (ex) bf who spent all of her savings and now shes broke but its so WONDERFUL him and his partner have been together 6 months happy anniversary!!!! eddie and hen leave the store like what the fuck? can we agree to never go back there?

buck is accused of murder or some other super serious thing uhh tbh idk if i'll ever write this its super angsty but im a sucker for this trope on tv soooo

buck disappears after almost running someone over OKAY so i pretty much have like more than half of this fic planned out i just. havent written it. u know how it is. y'all ready? okay lets do this under the cut:

this is def inspired by something ive watched before i just dont remember what. anyway. newly weds buck and eddie driving home from work (maybe) buck is driving. they're talking yknow shooting the shit and then all of a sudden this woman comes outta no where and runs in front of the car eddie yells "BUCK" and buck hits the breaks almost running her over but he doesn't. the woman has blood coming out of her eyes and she puts her hands on the hood of the car and tries to say something before she collapses on the ground. buddie get out of the car and try to help her but her heart stops and while eddie does cpr buck calls 911

so it goes the cops come and question them and buck is just sitting there like oh my god did I hit her? is it my fault she died and eddie is like um no !!!! it was obviously something else. anyway they get let go and they go home. there's an investigation n shit but no leads so the case goes cold. a few months later there's another victim and the 118 responds and it's the sameeee thing!! that happened to buddie and ofc they're freaked out

something something other things happen but I'm thinking buck somehow gets involved bc he's nosy and gets kidnapped by the baddie who did that to the other victims

the second part is the aftermath of his disappearance but imma leave it for another time bc this this is so loooong. hmu if yall want more tho !!

tagging @bigfootsmom @lovebuck @herodiaz @usercowboy @dollhousejee

#PHEW #relly writes stuff

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leos-regression-cove · 2 years

Text

Nothing in the Parenting Books Prepared me for This

Chapter 66: Children's Museum trip

Synopsis: Daycare is having a field trip to the nearby children’s museum! Thor and Mobius come along as chaperones. At first, everything seems chipper, but Loki is so fixated and impatient about visiting the "storybook cottage" and Mobius' hands are so full, that it's only a matter of time before things start going wrong.

Word count: 6,575

Stand Alone?: yes

Warnings: 1 swear, Bucky's abandonment issues,

Notes: I think I need to stop using my plotting structure the way I have been because last time, I ended up needing to break the story up into 4 chapters, but this one is just really really L O N G

Read it on AO3!

“So, how was daycare?” Mobius asked over dinner.

Loki had been nearly vibrating waiting to talk to his whole family about it ever since he got picked up a couple hours ago, but every time he spoke it was only met with “you’ll have to tell us about it over dinner.” Now was his chance.

“Um!” he started to make sure that he had everyone’s attention. “Daycare’s having a field trip,” he hummed happily.

Sylvie looked astonished and slightly offended that she had not been given this news sooner, slipping slightly as she asked “Where?!”

“The museum.”

“Oh… ew.”

“Mm! No, not the boring one-- The fun one.”

“Fun one?”

“The children’s museum?” Mobius offered.

“That one,” Loki agreed with his mouth full of mushy yam, licking his fingers.

“What’s that?” Thor asked.

Mobius and Loki both paused as they tried to think of how to explain it to Thor and Sylvie.

“It’s a big play area,” Mobius began. “But it’s more than just a playground. They have crafts and activities, some have science experiments and demonstrations kids can do… Once I had a case at one that was filled with dramatic play rooms. Like your corner at daycare with the salon game setup?”

“Um, it's grocery store now,” Loki corrected.

“Grocery store is pretty common, too. So imagine that, but it's big.”

“...A real grocery store?” Sylvie asked.

“No, no, littles and kids run it still, y’know? And the food is fake.”

“Oh,” Sylvie seemed intrigued.

“So, anyway,” Loki started up again. “They need chaperones and I think daddy an’ Thor should come.”

Sylvie agreed with this.

Thor shrugged and nodded.

“I dunno kiddo. I’m kind of swamped after last week’s attack…we’ve got a meeting with the Indonesian government next Tuesday… What day is it?”

“Um… I dunno,” Loki admitted, pretending he was very distracted by his dinner.

“Alright, well I’ll talk to Ms.Vaughn and see if we can work something out.”

And they did.

Thursday, at 8:30 am sharp, Mobius, Thor, Sam Wilson, Ms.Vaughn, and twenty excited littles waited outside the daycare in the freezing cold for the bus.

A few of the tots shivered and sat still, others warmed up by hopping in place or chasing each other around the parking lot until they were caught and given stern a talking to about safety.

Loki had chosen to climb up his brother’s back, overseeing the lot from about nine feet up, with his legs around Thor’s neck.

A bright yellow bus pulled into the driveway.

The chaperones worked together to shepard the little ones, ranging between 3 and 8 in headspace, onto the bus. But they didn’t sit down quite yet like the little ones did. Mobius and Thor left Loki and Sylvie to make sure there were only two littles per seat, breaking up groups of three or four, who thought they could get away with having a friend in their lap or scrunched by the window.

Loki sat with his daddy at the front of the bus, in a spot where he could be supervised closely by several adults.

Regardless of the supervision, Loki still stood up on his knees and turned around to talk with Scott behind him. “Have you ever been to a children’s museum?” Loki asked.

“Loki, sit down!” Mobius chided him, tapping on the back of his thighs.

Loki ignored him.

“Ah, yeah. But not this one. Momma looked it up for me though and it looks fun,” Scott answered.

“Does it?”

“Yeah, there’s a big playground, lots of playrooms, science stuff, a big garden with mud, arts, and -- oh-- you and Sylvie are gonna like the storybooks cottage a lot.”

“Storybook cottage?!” Loki repeated.

“Loki! Sit down, now,” Mobius hissed at him again.

Loki sat down, but still peeked around the side of the seat to look back at Sylvie and Thor a few rows back. “Sylvie! Did you hear that?”

Sylvie crawled over Thor’s lap to look at him. “I can’t hear you!” she yelled.

“Sylvie, let’s use our inside voices,” Mobius reminded her as he pushed Loki off his lap and back up into his seat. “Jeez, I know you kids are excited, but can you just try and behave on the bus?” he chuckled.

The facade to the building, in its old, colonial, red brick was horribly misleading. Its quiet, historic, nature gave way to absolute chaos once Loki stepped inside.

The inside wasn’t loud, but it was echoey. Most of the building was filled with many experiments, exhibits, and toys that wound and weaved around one another throughout a maze of short walls and boundaries, not quite attached enough to make individual rooms in a traditional sense.

Things moved throughout on their own: screens with games flashed or moved with idle waiting animations, water cycled through one exhibit, and a tiny model train circled the perimeter of the building, and those were only things Loki could pick out of the chaos of 19 other littles and four adults all trying to herd them.

Sylvie raised herself onto her tippy-toes, then back down over and over and over again, rocking back and forth and nearly bouncing in place, flicking her attention between exit doors, and the busy, moving toys, as if looking for sneaking figures.

Thor put a hand on her back to steady her, providing a little comfort.

This level of excitement seemed to be relatively common, Loki observed as he held on tightly to his daddy. The only one who wasn’t experiencing the same sort of pent up energy seemed to be Bucky.

Well, maybe that was incorrect. Bucky had pent up energy, but it wasn’t the chatty, hyperactive, and curious sort of energy. It was fearful and cautious. He looked like he was about to cry, as Sam set a head on his shoulder and rocked him back and forth in a backwards hug while keeping a straight face.

Eventually, Loki and the rest of the group were instructed to put up their “quiet coyote” hands for another roll call, an introduction to the museum, a rundown of safety information, rules, and an itinerary.

Even as they outlined the summary, this all sounded very very boring to Loki.

He looked to his daddy, but Mobius seemed to be paying attention. So, then the little did the next best thing.

“Psst Thor!” he tugged on the sleeve of his brother’s shirt.

Once he knew he got Thor’s attention, Loki waved a hand, beckoning him closer.

Thor leaned in to let his brother whisper something in his ear.

“This is boring!” Loki whispered.

“I know, brother, but it is important. Try to listen.”

Sylvie came around Thor’s backside to listen in. “It is boring,” she agreed. “Can we go play over there instead?”

“Psst!” Mobius got all of their attention.

The three looked up to realize that the presentation had stopped and most, if not all, heads were looking at them.

Thor gave the both of them a small elbowing.

As soon as the presenter continued, Loki stuck his tongue out at his brother.

Apparently, he chose the wrong time to do that, as Mobius quickly picked him up. Now he was really in for a stern talking to once the groups broke.

Halfway through the safety presentation, while they were being told when shoes need to be off and what age groups are allowed where, a phone began to ring. Loudly.

Loki searched for the source of it, only for Sam to apologetically reach in his pocket and say “Sorry I gotta take this.”

He stepped away, taking a quick second to reassure Bucky that this would all be fine and Mobius and Thor were here-- He was safe and with his friends-- before kissing him on the cheek. It would just be a moment.

Bucky almost looked angry. His entire body stiffened the second that Sam left, with his only perceptible movement being a trembling lower lip.

Loki stared at him probably longer than he should have.

Mobius maneuvered his little into one arm, with some slight discomfort and struggle, even though Loki was happy to cooperate.

Then with his free hand, Mobius reached out behind him, ready to take another trauma-ridden and finicky little under his wing. At least, that was how Loki interpreted it. Maybe Mobius just felt bad and knew if Bucky could trust anyone who wasn’t his daddy, it would be someone from their household.

Metal fingers clamped onto Mobius’ jacket sleeve. Not his offered hand, nor his arm itself, but the loose fabric around his bicep.

Mobius tried to quietly soothe the other child, but since he couldn’t speak, physical touch wasn’t something Bucky particularly liked, and he had Loki sitting in his other arm, there wasn’t much he could offer besides a sympathetic look.

There was a moment after instructions were explained and the littles were set free into the first exhibit, where Mobius was held in place by the pinch, while Bucky kept staring out the window.

“You wanna run along with Sylvie?” Mobius asked. “I’ll catch up to you.”

Before Loki could wiggle down onto the floor and go play, Sam turned off his phone and came inside. He had missed his opportunity to get out and curiosity now held him in place, especially since Sam did not look happy.

Bucky and Mobius simultaneously tensed.

“I… gotta go,” Sam said apologetically. “Fury said it’s an emergency.”

“...Yeah… take all the time you need.” Mobius said. He didn’t really mean it, and Sam didn't really want to hear it.

“You’re going to be good for me, Bucky-bear. Mobius and Ms.Vaughn are right here. All your friends are here. It’s just like being at daycare.”

Bucky looked down away from him, but didn’t respond at all, keeping his hands held firmly at his side.

“You’re gonna run around and have fun, and I’ll be back before lunch.”

Bucky still barely moved. “...You promise?” he mumbled.

“Yeah bud, I promise. This is just a quick errand. I pinky promise it.”

Bucky hesitantly hooked pinkies with his caregiver as if it were an embarrassment. Then, he got a big hug and a rub on the back before Sam went to find the busy teacher and tell her about the situation.

Mobius looked back at Bucky. “You ready to go try and have some fun? Sylvie, Scott, Thor, and Clint are all waiting for us. We shouldn’t leave them hanging, don’t you think?”

Bucky followed behind them from a few feet away with crossed arms, dragging his feet. Neither Loki nor Mobius were unaccustomed to this behavior, and chose to let him mope, although staying close, just in case he needed it.

“Daddy?” Loki asked. “Can we go to the Storybook Cottage?” He was slower with his words, leaving room for a childish cadence that snuck in between syllables.

“Let’s put a pin in that one, pumpkin, and stick with the group for now. Just until Sam comes back. Then I’ll take you.”

Loki frowned. “Can you play?” he asked.

Mobius looked back at Bucky again. “I think I gotta look after this big guy. I know Sylvie and your friends wanna play though.”

Loki bit his cheek and broke away from his caregiver slowly, walking towards a climbing net and starting to put his feet in the first holds. Maybe once he reached the tubes where Sylvie and his other friends were crawling, they’d have a game for him to join.

Unfortunately, a climbing net of this size and scope was a little tough for Loki. It was easily ten feet up, and when you’ve only got socks on a thin, rope, surface, grip can be difficult to maintain. He slinked up it, making quite the effort.

He could see Sylvie behind a clear plastic barrier a few feet above, snickering.

He frowned at her and tried to climb up further, slipping and nearly falling down to the cushy, padded ground.

“Loki, you wanna come over here? There’s a tot playground that may be more your speed,” Mobius suggested. It was apparent he really was trying to be helpful.

But Loki was big today. He wasn’t a baby. Not totally at least.

Sylvie slid down a slide a few feet away and stood behind him.

“Here to mock me?” he asked, way more bitterly than he really meant to sound.

“Only if you keep speaking like a grown-up… and trying to go up the net.”

“What’s wrong with the net?”

“That’s not how you climb up. Look! Here are the stairs.” She showed him to a tower with a small doorway in it. Surely enough, it was a spiral staircase.

Loki began to walk up them.

“Move!” Sylvie commanded, giving him a slight shove.

“I’m going! I’m going!” he shouted back, beginning to jog.

Although the jungle gym was expansive, and Loki enjoyed seeing his friends, he was decidedly relieved when a “Ding!” noise played over the intercom system and the chaperones helped the little ones into the next room.

Thor slid down one of the slides with Loki in his lap and Sylvie right behind the both of them.

He picked the boy up and seemed to understand that Loki wasn’t feeling very small yet. All the little energy had seeped out of him through hours in transport and a long lecture. Not even that 20 minutes on the playground had helped him regain the childish spark he usually had.

Thor raspberried the boy’s hands.

Loki paused, a bit taken aback as something clicked. A grin crept onto his face.

“He’s been revived!” he cheered.

Loki reached out and tried to wipe his spit covered hands on Sylvie. He made a gibberish yelp of “yuck!”

Thankfully for Loki, the next exhibit the littles were encouraged to explore was called the “messy room” and he was given the opportunity to wash his hands and put on a smock with all the other littles… and Thor… and Mobius? Oh! Everyone got a plastic yellow smock.

The area was really two exhibits, not one. It was closer to a “smock zone” than anything: most of the room was filled with paints, bath crayons, paper, some sort of wheat-paste (to attach the paper to a wall), and even shaving cream, all sorts of messy substances to paint all over the room with, and on the other side was… Well, Loki didn’t care… Something else, he assumed. All he knew was he had to clean up before heading over there. His hands were too covered in child-safe liquidy-glue to think about that. He pressed ripped tissue paper against a small corner of the clear wall to create a stained glass effect, sitting on the paper-covered floor.

A drop of paint fell on his nose.

Loki looked up to see Thor above him, finger painting diligently and with an amount of focus almost unheard of for him.

Then, Loki looked for the rest of his friends, still sticking scraps of paper to the wall.

Sylvie was still at the materials table, squishing her hands in colorful slime that stuck to her. She didn’t actually seem interested in getting the mess- oh, no, nevermind. She flicked it everywhere, all over the paper floor and probably into the back of Loki’s hair. Definitely into Thor’s.

Mobius was on the other side of the glass with Bucky, not many littles were. It was further from the materials section and the floor paper didn’t stretch so far, so most tots just stuck to the closer side. They were drawing with bath crayons and quietly talking. Mobius was trying so hard to be peaceful, really channeling his inner Mister Rogers. Just looking at them almost made Loki want to yawn and put his thumb in his mouth, an urge he needed to resist.

Loki stood up to grab more paper, almost bumping Thor and a few other littles as he did so.

“Loki! Look!” Thor called. “Come see what I made, brother!”

Loki stood close to him while wiping his hand on his smock. He could not figure out what he was looking at.

Thor must’ve noticed. “That ones me, and there’s Sylvie, and you, and then there’s da-- your daddy. When we got that big monster!”

Loki sucked in his cheeks and nodded understandingly.

“You don’t like it?” Thor asked, heartbroken by Loki’s reserved reaction.

“Is good,” Loki hurriedly added, but maybe Thor didn’t hear him.

“Sylvie! Look what I painted!” he called.

Mobius looked up from what he was doing at the same time Sylvie did.

She brought her green goop with her, sliding it around in her hands, staining them as she joined the brothers in admiring the work. “Is that us?” she asked with a certain performative enthusiasm: Her caregiving voice.

Thor nodded, rather pleased with himself.

“We should get daddy to take a picture, don’t you think?”

“Yeah!” Loki agreed, slapping the glass.

Mobius paused and told Bucky something before walking around. His eyebrows were just slightly knitted with concern, but he smiled anyway.

“Woah, hey Thor, did you paint that?” Mobius asked, looking at the stick figures. “We look great!”

“Take a photo of it! For the fridge!” Sylvie suggested.

Mobius fumbled in his pocket for his phone and took a snapshot, before showing it to the littles, and Thor just to make sure they liked it.

Thor grinned and tapped his feet, making a girlish squeal.

“Saved!” he smiled, before patting Thor on the shoulder and returning to his own drawing. Later on, Loki would catch him taking a photo of his own handiwork, and several other of the littles’ creations. He showed Bucky his phone. “Should I send that one to your daddy?” he asked.

Bucky had silently nodded.

Meanwhile, Loki had decided he was done with this activity, even if the alarm hadn’t rung yet. He needed to see where the other littles were doing on the far side of the room.

He washed his hands, and encouraged Sylvie and Thor to do the same.

“You took me away from slime for this?” Sylvie asked incredulously. “For water?”

Apparently, the other, not-so-messy activity was a large water table.

Although Sylvie immediately went back to her green ooblek, Thor definitely took interest, maybe even more than Loki. He picked up a plastic frog and set it into the water, running it under a waterfall and then setting it into the bucket of a water wheel.

Loki stood next to him, but really didn’t get involved as much as he simply watched his big brother who… probably should’ve been watching other littles. Maybe that defense would still work. Loki looked up. There were two other tots at the water table. Three out of 20… not great, but still, that area needed a little supervision.

Loki set some marbles into a run, sending them down a slide of rushing, babbling fluid. He clapped and giggled when they plunked into the water.

Then, he grabbed one, and shoved it into one of the rushing water pipes with his finger. He pushed against the current with his hands, and then when he couldn’t use those anymore, he switched to magic trying to see how far down the clear pipe he could get it. Then, when the pumping fan began to sputter, he let it out, watching the ball float back up and out into the water.

Thor raced a boat from one end to another as Loki messed with all the dials, buttons, and levers on enticingly lit and bubbling tubes of water, but even then, he had something else on his mind.

“Um, Thor?”

“Yes, brother?” Thor asked, slightly distractedly.

“Can we go? I wanna see the Storybook Cottage…”

Thor grinned and almost agreed, but his face then fell. “I need to watch over the little ones…”

“I’ma little one!”

“Yeah but…” Thor drew a deep breath considering his words carefully. “I’m having fun.” … Okay maybe not too carefully.

Loki whined and stomped his feet. “Please?”

“Can’t you just enjoy all this? It’s magical!”

Loki scrunched up his nose at that. None of this was magic. It was kind of interesting, but it was NOT magic. He knew magic.

The plastic frog spit at Thor and waves upon waves began to rock the table, sending Thor’s wooden boat capsizing as the tides crashed against him. His whole front was being drenched.

“Loki! Don’t lose your temper at me!” the god giggled as he was hit with a beam of spraying water from a “malfunctioning” tube. He really meant for it to sound intimidating, but how could it?

“Loki!” Mobius was not so lenient. He ran over and pulled Loki up against his clean smock, breaking the little’s concentration and the streams of water. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Loki hesitated, trying to think of an excuse. Then he put a hand in his mouth and teared up.

“That’s not gonna work this time. bud. You gotta talk to me. What’s got you spraying Thor with water? C’mon, I know you’ve got a nice big headspace today.”

“He said no!”

“No to…”

“Going to the storybook cottage!”

“Oh, Loki, we’ll get there eventually. Be patient. You wanna maybe regress down a bit? Play with some of the extra stuff that the big kids don’t get to? That’ll keep ya busy.” He reached into his pocket, having trouble with the yellow smock around him to find Loki’s pacifier.

Loki furrowed his brows as he took it.

“You wanna hold my hand until we get to the next room?”

“No?” Loki mumbled.

Mobius didn’t answer that, and Loki knew he didn’t really have a choice unless he wanted to be sitting in the quiet sensory room the whole trip.

The loudspeaker finally rang like the daycare bell, signaling the little ones to head to the next activity room (after they cleaned up, of course, which was a more daunting task for some than others.)

The next room, Loki didn’t really care about. He didn’t like that there was ANOTHER room. He wanted to go to the cottage, an outbuilding in the backyard he could see from the windows of the main museum.

But he had already tried to make that known and look where it had gotten him, being pulled by the wrist into the next room alongside his daddy and fussy, sad, Bucky Barnes, who still refused to lighten up, even after a whole hour.

Although, to be fair, Loki hadn’t done much lightening up, himself.

Oh more science. How special. Loki wasn’t so big of a fan of the STEM push. No Migardian trick of science could impress him. Especially not something like wind.

Clear, bendable tubes covered one wall, where littles were instructed to connect them together in interesting paths to float a ball of yarn through.

Similarly, a tube of wind stood in the center of the room with written instructions about how to make and test the flying capabilities of different objects.

Loki looked at it and slid his hand into the vortex before Mobius caught him by the collar and pulled him away, pointing to a red icon on the sign.

The little frowned at him and then crossed his arms.

“You can play with it, just maybe don’t stick your hand up there,” Mobius tried to explain.

Any notion of fun had already been ruined though. Loki furrowed his brows, starting to stomp again and throw a fit.

But Mobius didn’t listen. He was running over to talk to two kids who looked like they were getting into a fight and then stop three curious littles looking out the door towards the next exhibit.

Thor was busy helping Sylvie connect wind tubes together. They appeared to be enjoying themselves, Loki noted.

He sat in a corner with his back pressed up against the large windows of the room like a dramatic princess, people watching a little more than he cared to admit.

There was a moment where Thor seemed to remember why he was here and briefly left Sylvie’s side to attend to Clint and Scott who were asking him when lunch was and if he could do tricks with the wind too, if he was so good with thunder.

Loki rolled his eyes at their praises of him. As if he was a celebrity and not their coworker and friend’s big brother. Why didn’t they ever talk to him like that? Loki pushed something invisible with his foot, administering a small kick towards the empty space in front of him.

But, there was something he could use in this situation…

“Sylvie?” he asked, as casually as he could. “Are you bored? As bored as I am?”

She shrugged. “A little bit.”

“Wind’s not very fun… Would you like to do something else?”

She shrugged again, not really paying attention to him as she adjusted two plastic tubes to fit together. “Maybe…” She prompted.

“Can we go to the story cottage?”

Sylvie weighed her options, looked at the other littles, the adults, and then back at Loki. “Fine. But only for a moment so you can get a look at it. Daddy said we’re having lunch soon.”

Loki grinned. “Thank you thank you thank you!” he repeated.

He didn’t bother casting doubles today. He was already so tired, and Mobius’ hands were too full to really realize if they were gone. Bucky at some angles sort of looked like him. That would fill any gap he left in the classroom ecosystem.

Mobius looked around the room rather frantically. It felt like every time he solved one issue, another three cropped up. He wasn’t the only chaperone, but Ms. Vaughn was running around just as busily as he was and… Thor had seemingly joined the other team. As much as the god had said “regression wasn’t for him”, it sure did feel like it was.

20 and a half littles to watch between two caregivers… that was a lot, especially with 6 superpowered ones. He wished Sam was back, probably just as much as Bucky did. He looked back at the little guy, just to make sure he was doing alright.

It also seemed like things had gotten suddenly quieter. None of the super littles were the ones being loud or aggressive with one another. It was mostly the normal ones Mobius found himself watching out for, as Thor kept the other fi-- wait.. Hang on. There were only three littles working with Thor… Then Mobius stopped, counted and… shit.

The door to the cottage was unlocked and opened immediately, even though Sylvie had obviously planned on kicking it down.

The inside was a bit cramped, but more in a cozy sense than anything. Loki crept inside, before realizing that the floor was heavily cushioned and his head clipped the top of the ceiling. So, he instead, after glancing at Sylvie, crouched down, and then crawled.

“It’s just another baby exhibit, Loki,” Sylvie told him.

She could still comfortably stand, even though she needed to avoid pillows, stuffed animals, and child-sized scene setting furniture.

Loki stopped and took a book off a shelf, opening it to peer at the pictures while cushioned by pillows.

“It’s no different from the reading corner at school.”

He ignored her, shuffling on his knees into the other rooms of the cottage, exploring the kitchen and bedrooms curiously.

“Loki!” she whined as she followed him around. “Don’t make me mummy for you right now… please? Now you’ve seen it, let’s just go back to Daddy and Thor. They’ll bring you over later! I’m too small to be a good big sister!”

Loki paused when she finally caught him, pulling him back, away from the 3 bears beds and into her arms. He mumbled while pulling away from her grasp around his wrists until she finally restrained him into her lap.

“We’ll come back after lunch! That’s what daddy said! There’s other baby things for you to play with in the normal room!”

Loki thrashed against her, kicking into some of the pillows and started to cry.

“Loki! You’re being loud!” She shushed him.

But it wasn’t the thought of having to leave that got Loki so upset.

“I’m going and you’re going to come with me or not. Your choice.”

When she let him go, Loki resigned himself to a corner, just like he had in the wind room. She was right. It was just like the reading corner at school or their living room at home. There was nothing special about it. Even the stories inside were the same ones he had been read over and over again. “The Classics” as the adults liked to call them. Hey Diddle Diddle and all those rhymes and songs that masqueraded as stories.

The decor was… fine, but it was probably just as interesting as anything else in the museum. Maybe even less interesting. It did remind him of home, a bit, with its muted Victorian browns and bronzes but it wasn’t satisfying in any special way.

Reluctantly, he took Sylvie’s hand and followed her outside, dropping the fringed pillow he was clutching.

She shut the door behind him and seemed almost satisfied with herself. They went back through the same glass door they had come through, but it looked like the group had already moved on to the next activity.

The little ones searched the big, open, echoey areas for their daddy and Thor. Being alone in such a place almost seemed like a dream come true but neither of them really felt any mischievous inclination.

Loki sat down, once they had circled the first floor and returned to moping.

“Stop that!” Sylvie commanded him, administering a small kick to his midsection, more in a nudging way than one meant to cause pain.

“There you two are!” Sam said.

Somehow, in the time they were gone, there was a chance for the entire group to disappear, and for Sam to come back. He was carrying Bucky on his back, but the little’s face wasn’t visible.

“You know where the lunch room is, right?” he asked.

Loki shook his head and Sylvie stared at him blankly.

“Here, follow me.”

Loki took his hand and tried not to look like he had been crying too hard.

Sylvie didn’t bother with either of those, simply walking within the caregiver’s line of sight to prove how much of a big girl she was.

The lunch room was behind a regular door that looked like it should have been labeled “Employees only”. It was small, too. Mostly used for birthday parties and the like.

Mobius wasn’t there though, something Loki immediately noticed as he broke away from Sylvie, Sam, and the lunch line.

The door to the yard was propped open, opening into a tall and thick garden of flowers and edible plants, filled with bees and butterflies.

And, as Loki got closer, on the stoop, he saw who else, but his daddy, looking much more distraught than normal.

Loki sat down next to him, blocking the doorway.

Mobius wiped a wet eye with his sleeve. “Hey, there you are! You had me scared for a minute there,” he laughed.

Loki wasn’t used to seeing him cry. He almost put his guards up, but instead decided to let his shoulders droop and share in a little momentary misery as his daddy wrapped an arm around him.

“I didn’t realize how stressful it was looking after so many kids,” Mobius smiled. “I thought with two Lokis I’d be able to handle anything.”

Loki nodded to show he was listening.

“But jeez… ten littles! Handling ten littles alone, and the only ones I couldn’t keep track of were my own. You two made me feel like a pretty crappy caregiver.”

Loki frowned a little more.

“Well… You did! It’s not the same when you sneak off at the grocery store. This is different, bud. I’ve got a lot more things at stake here!”

Loki tried not to take it too personally, patting Mobius’ arm. If they hadn’t been at a children’s museum, the poor man probably would’ve been having a smoke. He wasn’t even much of a smoker but when he got stressed the rules tended to bend.

“Where’d you even sneak off to, anyway?”

Now it was Loki’s turn to stop comforting and start letting his emotions loose. “Story Cottage…” he answered lamely.

“Not so fun?”

The little shook his head and shuttered as he tried not to cry, trying to harness his big kid voice. “I-- I wasted all of it!” he spilled. “The whole day!”

Mobius pulled him into his lap. “You know what I think we both need, little drama queen?”

“You too!” Loki interjected.

“Yeah, I guess I’m a drama queen, too… but I think we could both get something to eat.” He picked Loki up and brought him over to wash his hands and grabbed him the lunches they had packed that morning.

There were still many things left to play with and explore after lunch as Loki stayed tethered to his daddy, probably more than he really should have, insisting on being held after a filling, and quite frankly, tiring lunch. A task that really wasn’t so bad until Mobius realized he was about to try to climb two flights of stairs and was still supervising a good number of littles. At least Sam was there to ease some of the tension off, now.

“Woah…” Thor said.

“Oh,” Sylvie agreed.

Loki furrowed his eyebrows, and turned around in his daddy’s arms. What was so great that they--

This wasn’t a room. It was a hall of rooms, probably a dozen. It was a little city, kitted with everything littles could ever want. Tricycles and riding toys were available on the “streets”, and in each of the buildings was a usable pretend play area pertaining to a profession.

Sylvie however, was more drawn to an artificial treehouse on the far side. A massive climbable playground for the big kids that appeared to come out of the wall, with a tinier, baby area underneath it for aspiring climbers.

“Why don’t we do that for you?” Mobius suggested trying to lead Loki over to the toddler area.

But Loki was pulled in a different direction. “Loki! Come look at this!” Thor yelled excitedly.

Mobius closed his mouth tightly, and looked up at the large climbing tree, unsure if he should leave Sylvie and a couple other littles there without a supervisor as Loki pulled him away.

“Daddy! C’mon!” Loki shouted excitedly.

“You go ahead… I think I need to stay here.”

Sylvie threw a foam apple at Mobius’ head. “Go! I’m a big girl! I’m safe!” She shooed him.

Mobius rubbed his head as if that had hurt before giving her an “I’m watching you” gesture and backing away.

Loki stepped behind the counter at a “pizza restaurant” with Thor.

It was probably the busiest room in the whole little town, but with so many rooms to choose from, that still only meant it maybe had three or four other littles.

Mobius tried to follow them into the kitchen, but Thor put his hand up.

Loki understood what this meant. “Daddy,” he began as politely as he could manage, “you’re not allowed over here… We’re the chefs. You’re the customer.”

Mobius got up on a stool at the front counter as he watched Thor try to give Loki a child-sized apron and Loki attempt to put it on, just to find it couldn’t tie in back and only covered his chest.

Then, it seemed they went over the directions carefully together, with Thor reading the instructions slowly and out loud, as if he were just learning to read for the first time. He was always a slow reader, and Loki wasn’t going to wait around. Instead, he began rolling out the pizza dough with a roller as he carefully looked at the pictures. The dough itself was felt, or some sort of beige fabric like it.

When Thor finished reading, he didn’t immediately begin following the instructions, instead opening up the fake refrigerator and pantries to inspect what materials were at their disposal first.

Mobius fake coughed, just to see if he could break either of them from what they were doing.

Loki ran up first. He looked slightly annoyed to be distracted from his busy, busy task.

“Aren’t you gonna take my order?” Mobius asked.

Loki crossed his arms. “Okay… what do you want?” he asked.

“I just can’t get any good customer service in a place like this, can I?” he sarcastically asked. “Hawaiian sounds good. Think you can make me a large Hawaiian pizza?”

Loki nodded slowly, the gears turning in his head just a little harder to remember what that meant. It was unfortunate that the instructions didn’t include a recipe book.

Mobius watched patiently as Loki put seemingly random velcro toppings from a myriad of labeled pots onto the pizza before putting it in the “oven” to bake.

The “food” was taking ages, especially as the brothers got caught up “cutting” wooden fruit and giggling at the floppy, uncanny, rubber meats in the fridge.

“Ding!” Loki suddenly said out loud. He ran over to grab his oven mitts and take out the pizza from the oven instead.

Then, after “cutting” it, he brought the tray with the pizza to Mobius.

It was Thor’s turn to take over and explain. Loki had gone up and tugged on his sleeve.

“We wanted to make you feel less stressed out!” Thor tried. “So we wanted to make you a pizza!”

Mobius grinned and took an imaginary slice of pizza, “Send my compliments to the chef.”

Loki nearly cried, whining and whimpering when the timer rang, and begging to stay. There was still so much to explore! Even with double the time of a normal exhibit, he still hadn’t played much with the train station or the post office.

Mobius kept him in a cozy hug of a carry, while Thor lifted a giggling, screaming Sylvie over his shoulder and teased her about using her inside voice.

She was crying with laughter and nearly couldn’t breathe through it. Whatever joke had been told might have been the funniest thing she had ever heard, and Thor’s rough, awkward way of carrying her had only exacerbated the condition.

The last event of the day seemed to be more like a checklist item than a real activity. Next to the story cottage that Loki finally got the opportunity to show his daddy, was a puppet show theater.

One of the museum’s employees was put behind the curtain as the littles were corralled and instructed to sit down to watch a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood.

Loki positioned himself in Mobius’ lap, holding his daddy’s hands in place around his chest and playing with his arms.

He felt Mobius come up to rest his chin on his shoulder, but it was hardly registered as anything more than a familiar reminder of his presence and a little bit of extra warmth around him. That was, until Mobius made a little grunt, which turned to a slightly louder, longer one.

Sylvie looked over at them.

Loki stared at her back without any explanation.

“He’s… asleep!” she whisper-giggled.

“Shh… let him. He’s worked hard,” Sam told them.

Loki held his daddy’s hand a little tighter.

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situationandmetropolitan · 1 month

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If you are looking for a guy in finance, don't.

Why is it always the men you didn't even find that attractive ending up hurting you the most?

I am yet again finding myself alone with mascara marks running down my face. The hellish difficulty level of modern day dating as a 30 something year old is a tale that skips like my most overplayed Taylor Swift vinyl record. But unlike one of the most successful billionaire pop sensation, her heartbreaks are sang by millions around the world, while I'm typing alone in this new personal blog; similar to Taylor Swift, I also am lucky enough to be at the company of my cat.

The hero, or shall we say the antagonist, of the story today, is this dashingly successful old-school investment banker, for the sake of the story, we shall just call him Banker, I am too polite to use the W word that would rhyme.

In classic 2024 fashion, I met Banker online. We were both working insane hours, and found comfort in each others' company in the hours past midnight through neverending text exchanges and personal stories. Our first date happened on a whim. I had just finished bowling and dinner with a group of friends, didn't want to head home, he had just finished work, so we agreed to meet up at this shabby cocktail bar with very limited drink choices. I remember the first thought I had seeing him in person was he's shorter than I imagined, second thought was huh he's got a disporportionally big head. It was almost a relief to feel I don't find him that physically attractive, without a stable job at the time, I didn't think I had any spare energy for anything more than a casual fling.

The conversation went on and on and on til the bar was closing down, this would be an usual occurance for our dates. We had talked about my dating experience with finance bros, his bad dating experiences back home, my spineless Aussie boss that got me laid off, and my gripe against Australians, for context, Banker is from down south. He would sympathize with my experience, and give me unsolicited, and probably inappropriate geo-cultrual background of different Aussie cities and what people from there are like ('Men from Adelaide are all cowards, they're just like that"). When he walked me home, gentlemanly ('Let me walk you to roughly where you live, I'm not asking you to show me exact location or anything.'), it was already 3 in the morning.

If I'd to be completely honest, I was intrigued but not super impressed. He was nice enough to listen to me, nice enough to pay for the bill, but I couldn't get over how judgemental he was, and, shameful to admit, how short he was, and of course, who can forget, the disporportional big head.

I went out with him again the coming Tuesday because we had already arranged and booked it even before our first date. I had been caught up in 2 very demanding project at the time, but didn't want to cancel because I hated, still do, canceling on people. We met up at this punk themed fushion Japanese restaurant. Right of the bat, I told him I've only got 2 hours because of work, and to my surprise, he even set an alarm for me on his phone.

Again the conversation flowed effortlessly. We people watched a bit and judged a group of strangers together. He was wearing this ridiculously formal suit, juxtaposing my super casual T-shirt and jeans, looked so out of place in the graffiti and sticker covered restaurant, with a full-size harley on display and Blink-182 blasting in the background. He seemded to take it as a mission to get me home in time. I said it's ok I could take a bus, but he insisted to share a taxi with me since it was quicker and he lived on the way. Before he got off the taxi, he handed me some cash to cover the taxi fee, which again, consistant with his old-fashioned gentleman behavior. I even joked, I usually charge more than that, and he giggled.

The third time we went out, would be the first time we kissed. We went to this quaint wine and dine bar, he loves wine. He'd order for the both of us, with my permission of course, and would serve the food on my plate first. I think that gesture might be the first time i felt impressed. In hindsight, it was never him always paying the bill, or his metal Amex card, or his fancy sea view apartment, it was always the small gestures made me felt he was taking care of me, that got me deeply hooked.

On that date, he'd start to share very intimate stories with me, about his family, his upbringing, his dad's unhinged cheating stories, which encouraged me to share my dad's physically abusive tendencies, and his cheatings. Then we'd start talking about politics. I think that was the moment he found himself genuinely attracted to me, I could see it from the most cliched spark in his eyes. He kissed me there with this intense passion, as the restaurant's waiters were burning our skulls with irritated stares, because as stated before, we've overstayed their business hours. As we were heading out, I was fully prepared to grab an uber home and call it a night. But my lightweight wobbly body disagreed with me. So I told him, I know you live close, I really need to lie down, this does not mean I'm sleeping with you, I purely, just need to lie down. So we went to his place, it was this incredible spacious 2 bedroom with open kitchen modern high rise apartment, overlooking the gorgeous skyline and the ocean. But I was too drunk out of my mind to look at any of that, I just saw he's got a playstation 5, and I wanted give it a go.

That night he was respective to my boundary, not with acceptable amount of trying though. It was too much alcohol, or unfamiliar environment, or his heavy breathing, or his cuddling, I didn't sleep at all. Around 6 am in the morning, I decided to take my exhausted body to somewhere I'm guaranteed a sound sleep - the sofa. That was when I noticed his book collection, many, many language variations of 1984 by George Orwell, together with Animal Farm, some classics, and also a poem collection by Keats. It was brand new. I wanted him to see me first thing in the morning, in the soft sunlight, reading poetry, in his oversized tshirt, like a scene straight out of a rom com, so I went to the bathroom to apply some light makeup.

He didn't wake up for at least another 3 hours, and poetry and Keats could start get boring after 3 hours. I had texted him jokingly, 'still asleep, so lazy, how very un investment banker of you'. When he finally woke up and stepped out of his undecorated bare minimum white bedroom, he had this most squished facial expression and simply asked me 'you alright?'. Not very romantic.

That morning, we had coffee together, watched Peep Show together, had takeout McDonald's, he worked a bit, until I had to go meet with my friend. 'I just realized this is the first time I'm seeing you in daylight.' I said, to which he agreed.

I think the anxiety came right after that day. He started to text me less, I'd wait for hours only to get a one sentence, or sometimes even 2 words reply. I'd check with him is everything ok? He'd only say yeah just work being busy. Then my past experiences of people ghosting me started to creep up on me. I'd start to spiral wondering if it was me rejecting sex, if I did anything wrong in the morning, was I not super ladylike chugging down the big mac.

When he still didn't ask me out on Thursday, I panicked. On Friday, I couldn't wait anymore for the other shoe to drop, so I asked him out for dinner on Saturday. To my pleasant surprise, he said yes.

It was this family run French bistro, quite pricy, but the food and drinks definitely matched the price. The joy seeing him walking into the restaurant shocked me, I wasn't expecting to be this happy to see him. It was in that restaurant I learned how particular he was about food ('Escargot needs to be presented in their shells so that I know it's fresh.'). Not surprised, very onbrandly rigid.

That night after dinner, we walked to a 7/11 to grab some lemon ice cream, then walked to the seaside, sat by the bay, next to all the kids and teenagers, old men fishing, families fishing. We saw an old uncle catching squids, the ink dyed the tinest area of the opaque ocean water black, easy to overlook, but I noticed it. Inking is the cephalopod's distress signal, fighting for its life. Perhaps I should've got the message and made a run then and there, but he interupted my octopus stories with kisses by the saltwater, so maybe it was already too late.

On our taxi ride back to his place, he did the Tom putting his hand down for Shiv thing from Succession finale, again, a giant sign that in hinsight I should've caught on, but at that moment, I vividly recall was the first time I felt the butterflies. We slept together that night, he came within like 2 minutes. It was a huge ego boost for me, to know that I've concqured a man that couldn't handle me in bed, to falsely think that I've got him wrapped around my fingers now.

Oh boy was I wrong.

The lack of texting or communication never picked up afterwards like I hoped it would, he never asked me out again like I hoped he would. The more distance there was, the more obsessed I became.

My friend would tell me, as a feminist as you claim yourself to be, if you want to see him, you should have no problem asking him out, which made me question a lot of my self-imposed disapointment. Yeah I am a feminist, a feminist don't wait around for guys to ask me out, a feminist go get what I want, a feminist shall not ponder but ask straightforward questions. And that's what I did. And I am so close to take the lesson of this experience as - feminists don't understand men.

So week after week, I asked him out, I made plans. I got him mini presents from my travels to Shanghai and Tokyo (side bar, I shared the same flight to Tokyo with his dad, which was an invisible string moment overly romanticized by me at the time). We slept together again and again, the sex picked up, one evening, I, eager to prove that I'm a true feminist, even laid all my cards on the table, and asked him to date exclusively, to which he gladly agreed.

But yet again, the lack of texting or communication never picked up afterwards like I hoped it would, he never asked me out again like I hoped he would. The anxiety of him ditching me for someone else, just evovled into the anxiety of him taking me for granted and not care about me at all.

In our 3 months situationship, this anxiety was painfully prominent, but I only brought up with him once. Maybe it's my fear of conflict, or fear of abandonment, or maybe it's me wanting to show I'm 'mature' enough to know I should be able to manange my own emotions, or maybe it's because everytime I'm determined to bring it up in person, I see his somehow-became-charming-to-me disporportionally big head and heavily waxed plastic hair, and all the frustration went away I'm left with nothing but affection. Or maybe it's because I don't know where I'm going in life, so I didn't feel I'm entitled to any voice in this situationship. I don't have a straightforward answer.

Which leads us to the night that changed everything.

2 weeks ago, we met up for wine after his weekly family meal. According to Banker, he was already a bit tipsy. As per usual, we talked a little bit about politics, i laughed at him being so out of touch with real people's real life, living in his above the cloud fancy mansion doing his handsomely paid banking job. Then it happened, he cracked. Prior to that night, he had shared a lot of stories of his life, his family. But that's all there is, stories, things that happend TO him. This time, he shared the things deep down ABOUT him. He told me his mom was having a very difficult time as a single mother with 3 kids, his dad was not around, so from then, he decided to do everything in his power to take care of them, as the man of the family. He went into finance for the money, he told me he felt like his entire goal was to pay off his mother's morgage, then he could die for all he cared. It hit me, at this moment Banker stopped being the banker, he became a fully fleshed out person, with purpose other than capitalism, with a heart bigger and softer than he ever cared to reveal. I never felt closer to him.

The next day, I talked about this with my friend over dinner, we both agreed something had fundementally shifted in this connection, he's showing vulneralbility and trust, you are actually building something substantial together. So later that day, with this exhilarating revelation in mind, I called him. I told him how much I appreciated him sharing this intimate truth, and I find that really attractive, and I felt we're becoming more closer. Then the cold water hit me like the sudden storm on a beach holiday, he said 'I can't remember what I said.' So it wasn't mutual then, he didn't mean to share it with me, it turned out we had completely different experience and takeaway from the same night. The scale has made it's final tip.

After the next two weeks of unreciprocated communication, which entailed leaving me on read for days, ignoring me for days, not having any time to spend with me, I called him again tonight. It was 1 hour and 9 minutes silent tear masked with the most calm monologue from my side, and him paraphrasing the same sentence over and over again: 'I'm sorry, I thought I've made myself really clear, I'm not in the position for anything serious, it's just work. I know comms has been poor from my end, but work is work, I'm not going to change.'

Which leads us to the begining of this story, sitting in my sofa alone with mascara marks running down my face, typing like a maniac on my laptop. All these time I thought I was competing with other women, when it's always been me competing with his work. Perhaps it was his hardwired mission to take care of his family, seeing that as all there is in life, which in return resulted in him neglecting taking care of himself, which resulted in him rejecting my care for him. Or maybe it's an open shut case of trust the man the first time. However to be fair, I trusted him, I was aligned with him, then I changed, I felt, I saw him.

Maybe somewhere there is a more profound lesson in this experience, but at this moment, my key takeaway is for things to remain purely casual, let your other person stay a cutboard cutout, once you see them as a flesh and blood three dimensional human being, you start to get too emotionally attached. Perhaps that's why I'm never a fan of casual relationship and probably will never try again, that is for it to work, it requires a certain level of dehumanization, and that is something I fundementally cannot stomach.

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kaceymique · 5 months

Text

What is True narratives?

- true narratives are stories that is true based on facts and experience which contains real plot,settings, characters and etc.

Ex.

- Essay that is based on experience

- Histories

- News

- Biography

An example of a true narrative and my critiques of it.

* One of the Example of True narrative is Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom Essay

• Introduction

1. The gift by Mr. Dwyer

2. the title is all about "The Gift"

3. Christmas morning in his household resembled a mismanaged zoo where all the animals are let out of their cages at once. The opening of gifts accentuated the portrait of chaotic festivity. An amazing union of order and calamity was forged much like a bellowing wind choosing fire as a dance partner.

3. The child met his father's stare with a syrupy shame that dripped over his naked innocence. The father, however, had found the gift. He smiled at his son. As he walked to the stone he redirected his son's focus to the life within the pond. He climbed on the inviting cool granite platform next to his son and they sat admiring the pond as the father would have years before. He held his son, perhaps forever, in that hour and they were content to follow the movement of the trout as the oblivious band of shoppers hurried about them.

• Summary

*The story revolves around a father and son as they go to a shopping center during the holiday season, which is Christmas. The father recalls his childhood memories of Christmas with his big family while searching for a parking spot and shopping for gifts. When the father realized that his son was missing, he started panicking before finding him safe in a trout pond, which made him realize that the real gift he was looking for was his son. The main point of the story is the father's realization of the importance of cherishing moments with his son, especially during the holiday season, and the bond of the father-son relationship.

* The evidence that this is a true narrative is because of how detailed the descriptions are, like the events where the place occurred, which is the parking lot and store for holidays, another is the emotion of the father for his son.

• Evaluation

1. I love how the story is all about the father and son bonding together and how important it is for the tradition to be kept alive through generations. It shows how strong family ties can be and how a parent feels a strong emotion toward their child.

2. It relates to a broader issue of family dynamics and how parents relate to their children. It also highlights how hard parenting can be, balancing responsibilities, and having strong relationships with their children.

3. The writer's point or main idea was very clearly shown in the story, it creates a meaningful lesson for every parent and reader about how important a relationship with your family is and how it should be cherished.

• Conclusion

1. I agree with the writer that the family is important and cherished because, at the end of the day, they are still family. The part of the story that made an impact on me was where the father panicked about his son and came to the realization that his son was safe and a very dear gift to him.

2. Everyone knows that having a family that is very dear to us is important, especially those who are close to us. Yes, we argue, fight, and have misunderstandings, but we still talk things out and find a way to get along with each other.

3. I like the piece, especially the realization of how children are a gift to their parents and how much responsibility and care they have.

Reference:

http://www.brunswick.k12.me.us/hdwyer/the-gift/

What is testimonies?

- a spoken or written words by a person that is in a situation it is also used in gathering evidence.

Ex.

- A suspect is giving a statement to the police.

- Bloggers Talking about their experience about a certain product or place.

- A student telling their experience in school.

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bluteatavern · 9 months

Text

The Bittersweet Flight

Warning: contains gore, blood, murder, vomit, mentions of suicide and drugs...yeah, I guess I got everything covered.

This picture was in one of my school books, I wrote this short story with it in mind. Hope you enjoy it ;)

Beth's father, John, was still sitting in his office when she got home. It was already past midnight, but after so many nights watching his daughter sneak out of the house and not giving any explanations by the next day, he gave up trying to stop her from leaving.

He earned all of the house’s chores after his husband, Michael, died in a sudden accident. A fire that spread through their old flat fast enough to leave nothing but his ashes behind, and a poor scared baby who survived by a miracle. The whole thing was never really explained by anyone, though John had a small hunch about it. He knew about his dear one’s condition, but he never expected Michael to actually take his life like that, especially while Beth was still inside their home.

None of these facts ever left John’s head, and his job had been consuming more of his time with each passing day since things at the office he worked at were not going smoothly. With so many worries and doubts about the past and the future, he had his reasons for sparing his mind from a rebellious daughter’s behavior, which was starting to irritate him a bit.

As for Beth, she knew about her father's situation. She did care about the fact she never got to meet her other father, Michael, except through photographs, and there were not many left. As for his job, its consequences began to be shown at home, with cheaper products on the shelves, and some second-hand furniture replacing those that were being sold. But she didn’t mind about it.

She had her own concerns, as any being who starts to understand how living works. Her sophomore year of school was terrible, filled with fake friendships that carved knife after knife on her back. But the tears in the hidden corners of the school were very real, and her passion for dreamy boy Bryan Wood, that sucker, that was real too. Her actions in their relationship, the kisses she gave, the words she declared, they were as real as the ground beneath her feet, but who ever said so were his?

Beth did not have great expectations for her next and last year of high school. She felt so stressed that it became a routine for her to go out of the house in the dead of night, and head to the same alley, where in exchange for some money from her allowance, she would get her those precious "sweets" that could numb her mind and stun her problems, causing them to look smaller. It was supposed to be just once, but after the first taste of what peace felt like in a lifetime, she couldn’t find the strength to stop anymore.

Who cared if she became thinner within weeks? Who cared if one of her teeth fell off last Tuesday? Who the fuck cared if her smile had cracks around her mouth? Not her, nor her friends, nor Bryan, and certainly not her father, the one who was always too busy looking at that stupid computer screen.

As you may have noticed, none of them talked openly about lack of money or any other of their headaches, and therefore, this incomprehension resulted in more and more frequent arguments at home. No matter how big Beth's problems were, they would always seem inferior to her father’s, and vice versa.

Both knew what they wanted the most. They wanted things to change. A transformation in their lives, whatever it would turn out to be, coming from one of them, or from an external action. At least on this matter, both could fully agree.

Beth walked past her father's office, which still had its light on, flickering once in a while. She didn’t even announce her return, as she walked straight into the bathroom as fast as her brain could allow her.

After undressing and discarding her clothes in one of the bathroom’s corners, she went into the shower box to let the water wash away any impurities that might have entered the house with her. With each new trance, a new mark would appear on her body later. Bites, bruises, signs that made her wonder where they had come from, and the most obvious answer have always made her sick.

After finishing her quick bath, she reached for the towel hanging outside the shower box and began to dry herself off. She wrapped the towel around her chest, which a new purple painful mark was closer to, and took her phone from the sink to check how much battery it still had left. There were no messages on the lock screen, of course. She could barely remember the last time it had any.

She was prepared to open the door and quickly go to her room where she could finally go to sleep.

That was when something caught her eye.

Right in the corner of the bathroom where she threw her clothes, part of her thin soaked blue blouse had begun to move up and down repeatedly, at a desperate pace. A shiver went down Beth’s spine, though it didn’t seem she had anything to be worried about yet.

The movements didn't stop, but it was moving now. A volume stirred under the fabric, and it was almost reaching the end of the waistband of the blouse. Beth watched its path closely, speculating what it could possibly be. Her doubt was resolved when a brown moth finally emerged from under her blouse.

Disgust invaded her head at the thought of coming home with a moth touching her skin. Of course, it was not a harmful creature, but in her defense, the feeling of small and furry paws grazing her body was quite uncomfortable. The small insect stood still on the floor, but when Beth motioned to grab one of her snickers while she was standing, brownish wings flapped, and the creature rose off the ground, flying nonstraight towards Beth.

Startled by the sudden action, the girl got out of the moth's path and ran into the box again with her cell phone still in her hands, closing the glass door behind her. She thought the insect would disorient itself in the bathroom light, and soon be on the floor again, but instead, the moth flew straight into the shower stall, pressing its body against the glass.

Beth studied the appearance of the insect. The body was covered in yellowish hair, the paws thick enough to be replaced by fuzzy keys, and the wings brown as dry leaves. But something was different, something she hadn’t noticed before was now being shown. There were two white ellipses on the moth’s larger wings, which now seen up close, resembled eyes with black iris.

The fear and repulsion were greater than her desire to leave the safety of the box, so Beth took another route. Figuring her father should still be in the office, she turned on her cell phone and texted him.

Dad, there’s a moth outside the bathroom box. Can you please come and kill it?