#There should have been more about their relationship in the story because I need it so badly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seitmai · 19 hours ago

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He should be sitting at your bedside, like men did when the women they loved were injured. Instead, he stood by the window. His gaze was fixed on the leafless silhouettes of the tree branches outside, drawn there because if he was looking at them he wasn’t looking at you, swathed in bandages and draped in sheets that bore an unsettling resemblance to a shroud.

He cant even bear to sit beside her🥺

The machine noisily breathed for you. He’d grown so used to its rhythmic—whoosh, thump…pause… hiss—that the sounds faded into the background. Looking at your reflection in the glass was easier than actually looking at you. It softened the bruises that had deformed your features and hid the traction splint on your left lower leg. But the ventilator’s whir was a constant reminder that a machine was all that stood between you and death.

💔💔💔

“You look like hell.” “Thanks.” “Go home. Take a hot shower and a couple Benadryl. Once you’ve slept, you’ll feel better.” “Will I?” He’d been aiming for sarcasm but a waver of apprehension snuck into his voice instead.

Valid question at this point lol

Recent events had solidified one fact—whatever this relationship was, it wasn’t casual. Not anymore. He couldn’t deny it, not when he’d spent days by your bedside, received updates from your family, and been added to your list of emergency contacts. The lack of questioning about his presence from either of your parents symbolized how entrenched your relationship had become. Vivian likely played a role in that, but it reinforced the same point: he was more than just your friend. What exactly he was remained unexamined as of yet, but it was only a matter of time.

I think they both knew for a while this wasn't casual anymore but both were too scared to bring it up..

He wasn’t blind to the fact that the age gap was part of what had drawn you to him. You’d wanted sexual experience, and he had plenty to offer. His sophistication and confidence were traits you appreciated in him, even as a friend. Sometimes he wondered if it was him you were drawn to, or the feeling of security he provided. You’d had too many responsibilities handed to you too early. He was good at taking charge. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where the attraction stemmed from. Doubt gnawed at him. Did you want him, or did you just want someone competent, who made you feel safe? He wasn’t the only man who could meet those needs. Lloyd wished he could pretend otherwise, but he couldn’t see how both your futures could coexist in the long term.

Oh no he is getting into his head..🫣

Lloyd pulled out his phone and pretended to be occupied. The nurses quickly exited the shop after their orders were filled, but they’d given his thoughts a new path to wander down. There was a good chance that you’d want a family someday, given how healthy and tight-knit yours was. You were good with children. The idea of you not being a mother was somehow unfathomable to him. A chill ran down his spine. He could easily imagine the same story he’d just overheard being told about him.

😬😬😬

What if you asked him for a baby? Would he be able to deny you what you wanted, even knowing the risks? He winced. No. He couldn’t be a father. He didn’t have the temperament for it, nor the energy it demanded.

Let's not think that way, princess needs to recover first and then an open conversation would probably help..

You deserved to be with someone who could give you the full experience of parenthood—someone younger, willing to endure sleepless nights, with the stamina to chase after a toddler. He couldn’t picture himself running after a child at his current age, let alone keeping up with a teenager. By the time your child graduated high school, he’d be at least sixty, if not older. You needed someone with more life ahead of them than he had to offer.

Age is just a number 🤷🏻‍♀️

Oh this is gonna eat him up from the inside out..

“It’s one less addiction to manage,” Lloyd said.

Valid

“How many twenty-five-year olds vape? Eat a diet of pure junk food? You’re healthier right now than most younger men could dream of being. Hell, you’re drinking tea.” Lloyd scoffed. “I don’t drink coffee so I’m off the hook?” “And you eat turkey bacon, which is pathetic and un-American, but to each their own. Seriously, if it’s bothering you, get your sperm tested.” “Checking it right now wouldn’t matter much. Princess and I are in different places in life. By the time she’s ready to have kids…” Lloyd trailed off.

Good god Lloyd he just want to help you get your head out of your ass 🥴

“Deposit it at a sperm bank, they’ll put it on ice for later. Of course that’d take all the fun out of things, but it heads off the worst-case scenario.”

Halleluja for Zach , at least one person that can think straight right now and points out some alternatives 🙏🏻

Somehow, Joe Hansen had crawled out of the grave and back up to the land of the living. There was no mistaking that face. The deep purple circles under his eyes, the dry, reddened skin partially hidden by a heavy five o’clock shadow, and bloodshot eyes from too much whiskey left Lloyd paralyzed for a moment. When his mind kicked back into gear, his first thought was almost smug: I knew you were too mean to die. But when he looked over his shoulder, there was no one behind him. Zach had stepped out to take a phone call. The shop was empty. His gaze turned back to the reflection. The eyes weren’t brown. They were crystal blue. It wasn’t Joe. It was him.

Uff that must be harrowing, but maybe also a little bit of a wakeup call

Chapter 29

The Princess & the Lawyer

Summary: In the aftermath of the incident, Lloyd grapples with his emotions and begins to wonder about their future.

Word Count: 4,605

Warnings: Mention of adult content such as sex and drug use. Non-explicit references to child abuse, which is made clear by a character’s reactions and implied by their internal reflection, but not discussed in specific or graphic terms.

Author’s Note: Thank you for coming back to read this, despite my long absence! Full Author’s Note can be found here.

Masterlist

Lloyd wasn’t where he should be.

Injured felt like too plain of a word to describe your condition. You’d rammed a car head-on into a concrete barrier at high speed and a moment later, Westin Tafferty had shot you in the head at close range. The doctors said the bullet had grazed your parietal bone and fractured your skull, triggering internal bleeding. Within minutes of arriving at the hospital you’d been rushed into the operating room for an emergent craniotomy.

Now, you were sedated in a coma and no one could say if the surgery had been successful or not. The carefully titrated medications flowing through your I.V. masked any sign of improvement or deterioration. As long as the sedatives infused, you remained trapped in a stasis where no one could tell if you were healing or slipping away. Until they dialed back the drugs the state of suspension would persist. He’d asked, but no one was willing to estimate when they’d begin tapering off the medication–or if that was even part of the plan.

Behind him, the ventilator hissed. Lloyd twisted his neck, trying to ease the tension as his eyes drifted over the landscape. Your room overlooked the courtyard, which wasn’t much to see, especially after the weekend’s turn in the weather. Skeletal tree branches stretched toward the sky, stripped bare by last night’s windstorm, which had brought in an unexpected cold front that settled into a hard frost. Just yesterday, the leaves had been turning yellow. Today they were scattered in a thick carpet over the grass. Your day nurse had told him it was the earliest frost since 1979. Lloyd hadn’t offered a response.

In fact, he’d barely registered her remark at all. Information hadn’t been sticking in his mind lately. Between the car accident, the shooting, and the discovery that Westin Tafferty had been stalking you all along, his brain had short-circuited. The machinery in his head was broken. Synapses fired sluggishly, like a circuit board trying to transmit a signal through frayed wires. His thoughts flickered, dimmed, then disappeared.

He twisted his neck and scanned to the left, his gaze colliding with a reflection in the glass. The image was distorted but he could make out your form lying in the hospital bed directly behind him. Monitors were packed around your bed. A screen displayed your vitals, another showed wavy lines related to breathing, and one monitored intracranial pressure. A drain connected to your skull through a thin tube—that was a left over from the operation. He’d been curious about it but hadn’t asked. After two days in the ICU, he’d learned it was sometimes better not to know. On the other side of the bed, an infusion pump was hooked to the I.V. in your forearm, along with a ventilator.

Expecting it was your mother or Vivian, Lloyd fished the device out of his pocket. The message was from an unsaved number.

I’m at the nurse’s station. Which hallway should I take?

Lloyd frowned and scrolled through the messages. He’d exchanged about a dozen texts with this number over the weekend, the details of which were fuzzy in his memory. It took some scrolling to realize the number belonged to Jen Kyzansky. Right. He remembered now. Jen had promised she’d stop by after work and it was five o’clock. He’d asked her to visit after an exchange with your day nurse, who confirmed that coma patients could sometimes hear people. Not always—but in some cases.

He could barely stand to look at you in this condition, let alone speak, so he’d called in reinforcements. For all his personal dislike of the woman he was supremely confident in her ability to carry on a one-sided conversation. She would keep it positive and upbeat and talk about things you’d enjoy. You needed Jen right now, not him.

He sent instructions to guide her through the maze of hallways and stepped outside the glass booth the ICU considered a “room” to wait for her arrival. A moment later, someone carrying a giant vase of flowers rounded the corner. Though he couldn’t see the person’s upper half, he recognized the tailored oxblood trousers. Jen shifted the flowers to her hip to read the room placards. Before he could call out, she spotted him and picked up the pace. When she was an arm’s length away she stopped, her gaze sweeping up and down his form.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

She didn’t smirk, as he’d expected. “When was the last time you slept?”

Lloyd shrugged. He tried to sneer–after all, it was the customary greeting between him and Jen–but his features wouldn’t cooperate. To his dismay, her expression softened into something that looked suspiciously like sympathy.

“Go home. Take a hot shower and a couple Benadryl. Once you’ve slept, you’ll feel better.”

“Will I?” He’d been aiming for sarcasm but a waver of apprehension snuck into his voice instead.

Her chin lifted. “Yes, you will. Call someone to drive you home, or at least drink some coffee. Driving tired is as bad as driving drunk.”

Lloyd obeyed. At the end of the hall, he glanced back to see Jen sitting beside your bed. Jealousy cut through him. It was irrational, given that he had all afternoon to do what Jen was doing now, but unfortunately he couldn’t look at you for more than thirty seconds without wanting to throw himself off the roof.

At the elevator bank his gaze drifted to the window as he waited for the car. It offered a different perspective on the same barren trees he’d stared at from your room. In a few months they’d be reborn, sprouting new buds and leafing out. Nature healed itself, even after the most brutal storms. He had no such ability. His wounds didn’t heal; they stayed with him, out of sight, but always festering under the surface. Lloyd scrubbed a hand over his face. Wallowing in self-pity didn’t do you any good. It wasn’t good for him, either, as painful emotions tended to corrode his self-control. He could feel the chaos welling up and worried that he wouldn’t be able to contain it much longer. The stitches of his composure were straining, threatening to tear apart.

How could he ever support you if he couldn’t control his own emotions? He’d sent Jen in as his substitute for a task as basic as sitting by your bed and talking. He was useless—he couldn’t even look at you! You needed him right now, and he couldn't even look at you. He was a coward, and not because of the fear, but because he was letting it dictate his actions.

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The elevator took him down to the lobby. As Jen suggested, he stopped by the coffee shop and ordered a London Fog. It was late afternoon, and aside from him and the barista, the shop was empty. That made sense. At five o’clock on a Monday most people were still at work, stuck in traffic, or picking up their kids.

Nothing played over the speakers and the weight of the silence pressed down on him. Lloyd sat down at a table to wait. He listened to the hum of the espresso machine, the soft clatter of metal instruments as the barista stirred his tea. His thoughts drifted back upstairs, comparing the quiet sounds of the coffee shop to the symphony of whirling, hissing, and beeping that filled your room. If you were here, you’d have ordered something so sugary and caffeinated that it ought to come with a Surgeon General’s warning.

“Lloyd, your London Fog,” the barista called.

He collected his drink and turned to face a jarring sight—a group of nurses gathered in a loose semi-circle on the other side of the glass partition separating the shop from the hallway. They all wore the same unmistakable shade of green. Over the past few days, he’d learned the color coding system of the hospital’s scrubs: navy blue for ICU nurses, burgundy for lab techs, pale blue for surgical staff, and a garish shade of sea-foam green that identified this group as trauma nurses. His grip tightened around the cup, the heat seeping through the paper doing nothing to thaw the sudden chill in his fingers. The sight of the trauma nurses triggered a flood of memories, sharp and uninvited.

The drive into the city. Detective Roth’s hands tight on the steering wheel as he wove through traffic. The flashing dash lights in the silent car, no wail of sirens overhead because those were only for official emergencies…Walking past the destroyed trauma bay, its floor littered with the debris of plastic packaging and soiled gauze, as a gray scrubbed man mopped blood off linoleum tiles. Meeting your parents in the waiting room of the surgical suite. The doctor entering, asking if anyone was ready to see you. Your mother, crying, too distraught to accompany your father to the post-anesthesia unit… Vivian suggesting Lloyd go with him instead…

Dishes clattered in the sink, snapping him back to the present. Lloyd pulled his gaze from the nurses and moved to a table, deliberately facing away from them, but the image of those green scrubs lingered in his mind.

For the past seventy-two hours, he’d clung to the hope that you would wake up, that somehow you’d shake off a traumatic brain injury as if it were nothing more than a common cold. The sheer absurdity of such magical thinking grated on his nerves, but he couldn’t stop the optimistic thought from creeping in. Being irrational didn’t change the facts, though, and two days later your diagnosis remained unchanged: critical but stable.

The word “stable” circled in his mind. He rolled the word silently over his tongue, as if repeating it would make it easier to accept. Stable meant things weren’t getting worse, but it didn’t mean they were getting better either. It was a fragile reassurance, one that only made him more anxious the longer he sat with it. The fact that you were stable didn’t offer any hint of what came next, whether you’d recover or languish in this state forever. Instead of easing his fears, the thought of your impending recovery opened up an uncomfortable set of questions, chief among them: where did your relationship go from here?

There was an eighteen year age gap between you. While he’d packed for college, you’d turned two weeks old. Your future was filled with hope and potential, any path was open and ready to be explored whenever you craved something more. He’d wasted his future already, thrown it away on bad decisions, mental instability, and addiction. The gap between you wasn’t just measured in years but also by directions; your lives were moving along different paths. You had spent this spring considering your options for law school and Lloyd had mapped out a tax-efficient withdrawal plan for his retirement funds.

The chime of the door announced the admission of two new patrons to the coffee shop. A pair of nurses in pink scrubs entered, giggling at some private joke as they formed a queue at the counter. Labor and delivery nurses, Lloyd guessed, judging by their uniforms. Their conversation quickly confirmed his assumption and in the tight confines of the shop, he couldn’t help but overhear them.

“I almost called him her dad,” the brunette said. “He’s like three times her age, it's the obvious way to go!”

“Melanie flagged the chart with a note.”

“Yeah, but by the time I saw it the word ‘dad’ was already halfway out of my mouth.”

“You really called him her Dad?!”

“I tried to change it to Dale. The transition was not smooth. Not at all. They stared at me like I was crazy. Then I made up some B.S. about how he looks like a Dale—”

Her friend snickered. “Girl…”

“Shut up! The man has white hair! He’s lucky I didn’t call him Grandpa.”

The other shook her head. “Can you imagine having a kid with a guy that old?”

“No thanks. You?”

“Pfft, absolutely not.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Neither of them thought this through. The risk isn’t worth it.”

“Hell no,” her friend agreed. “The odds of all that scary genetic crap is like six times as high with fathers over forty.”

“What about fathers over eighty?” the brunette giggled.

“You know it’s harder for guys to get someone pregnant once they’re over forty?”

“It’s like nature’s way of cutting the old timers off.”

“Not if they’re persistent!”

They both laughed.

It wasn’t wise to become a father after a certain age, Lloyd mused. He cringed and shook himself, disturbed by the seriousness of the thought. There was no reason to consider such things. He had decided long ago that he didn’t want children. The Hansen line would end with him, and there would be no heir to carry on the family curse.

His mind drifted to Zach’s comment about vasectomies and his insinuation that Lloyd was keeping his options open by not getting snipped. Suddenly, that accusation hit too close to home. Being in a relationship with a much younger woman opened the door to that possibility, and you’d both been complacent by relying on only one form of birth control for the past few months.

Maybe you didn’t want children. For a moment, the thought sparked a flood of relief. But guilt came fast on its heels, crushing the tiny flicker of hope. How could he even think that? It wasn’t his decision to make. He had no right to wish you’d give up something as fundamental as motherhood just to accommodate his shortcomings. You might be willing to accept the limitations brought on by his age and past, but he couldn’t ask that of you. Your future didn’t need to be burdened by his realities.

He wished he didn’t have to think of these unpleasant things, that time could freeze everything as it was and your relationship could stay vague and undefined forever, but time marched on and there was no escaping the truth. Being with him came at a cost, and you’d already paid the price. If not for your friendship with him, Court Gentry never would have known your name. If Lloyd hadn’t turned down Court’s request for help—not once, but twice—you wouldn’t have been drawn into his reckless scheme to expose the spy at Bishop & Howard.

Then there was Westin Tafferty. His grudge against Lloyd had made you a target. Without that connection, Tafferty wouldn’t have spent months harassing and stalking you. He wouldn’t have tried to kill you. The worst part was that Lloyd still couldn’t remember meeting him; whether Tafferty hadn’t made much of an impression or Lloyd had been too high to recall their introduction was up for debate. But Zach had confirmed the truth: Tafferty had spent twenty years working for the NSA and he’d crossed paths with Lloyd on more than one occasion. Detective Diskant had recovered the flash drive you’d hidden and spent the weekend piecing things together. There was plenty of evidence, enough for three life sentences, but Tafferty had vanished.

Even forgotten memories from his past haunted him—and by extension, you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t untangle the past from the present. You’d had a brush with his past in Singapore, then again in Qatar. Apparently, those close calls hadn’t been warning enough, because this time the consequences had really caught up and now there was a machine breathing for you.

Lloyd’s tea had gone cold, but he was still deep in thought when Zach entered the coffee shop. His leather jacket creaked, stiff from the cold, as he sat down in the opposite chair.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Zach said, unzipping his jacket. He regarded Lloyd with a knowing gaze. “You look like you’re plotting something. Care to share?”

“I’m not plotting anything.”

Zach’s eyebrow twitched, and Lloyd sighed, amending his statement.

“Not now at least.”

Zach leaned back in his seat, lacing his hands behind his head. “Alright.”

Lloyd grunted, picked up his tea and sipped, wincing at the bitter taste.

“Is that tea?”

“Yes.”

“Disgusting.”

“It’s one less addiction to manage,” Lloyd said.

“Mmmhhh.”

Silence fell. Zach didn’t speak. He maintained the same relaxed posture but his eyes watched Lloyd with the intensity of a hawk watching a mouse. It was a pressure tactic that worked wonders in the interrogation room. Lloyd disliked having it used on him and felt ridiculous for wanting to fill the lingering silence, yet the thoughts bouncing around in his head had to go somewhere. He weighed the risks and decided that Zach was the safest option.

“Do you ever think about…kids?”

Zach braced his elbows on the table. “No. I settled that issue a long time ago.”

Lloyd rubbed his jaw, scowling at the itchiness of the three-day stubble he hadn’t found time to shave off.

“Nurses were just in here talking about congenital issues with older fathers, the odds of it and such, that’s all.”

Zach waved his hand. “You’re borrowing trouble.”

“I’m not saying I want kids,” Lloyd rushed to clarify.

“Spare me the bullshit. Let’s talk about it. You’re twisting yourself up over statistics without considering the rest of the picture.”

“What do you mean?”

“How many Gulf War vets, who were exposed to God-knows-what in Kuwait, had kids? And most of them were fine, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’ve researched it for decades and still can’t find a strong link. Genetic problems depend on a lot of factors.”

He must not have looked persuaded because Zach continued.

“How many twenty-five-year olds vape? Eat a diet of pure junk food? You’re healthier right now than most younger men could dream of being. Hell, you’re drinking tea.”

Lloyd scoffed. “I don’t drink coffee so I’m off the hook?”

“And you eat turkey bacon, which is pathetic and un-American, but to each their own. Seriously, if it’s bothering you, get your sperm tested.”

“Do what?”

“Get your sperm tested,” Zach said, as casually as if he were reminding Lloyd to check his tire pressure.

“Sperm testing? They do that?”

“Yeah. I had mine tested before and after my vasectomy.”

“Checking it right now wouldn’t matter much. Princess and I are in different places in life. By the time she’s ready to have kids…” Lloyd trailed off.

“Deposit it at a sperm bank, they’ll put it on ice for later. Of course that’d take all the fun out of things, but it heads off the worst-case scenario.”

Lloyd let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Zach’s logic cut through his spiraling.

“Get your head on straight and focus on what you can control,” Zach said.

“Which would be?”

The blond man’s face turned serious. “I have news.”

Lloyd arched his brow.

“Westin is dead.”

“Since when?”

“His body was found this afternoon—a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

Disgust hit first, followed by a surge of regret that twisted into concern. The disgust came from the fact that he hadn’t brought about Westin’s death by his own hand. Regret came from knowing, intuitively, how Westin’s death had played out. His eyes locked with Zach’s who read the unspoken assumption in them..

“I didn’t do it.”

“The others?”

“No.”

“What about…”

“Possible,” Zach said. “No one knows where Gentry disappeared to, but I have a source that thinks he’s still in the city.”

“I might have something on that.”

“Care to share?”

“No.”

“I take it you’re going to try and talk to him one-on-one?”

“Maybe.”

Zach snorted. “Because that went so well last time around.”

“Has anyone claimed the body?”

“No. They asked Bishop to identify him. Diskant said the scene was clean. There were no fingerprints other than Westin’s on the gun.”

“There are still loose threads,” Lloyd said.

“If you mean Aiden, he’s been arrested. Bishop has a friend at the district attorneys’ who says he’s going to be charged with espionage tomorrow.”

“Not the loose thread I was thinking of, but that’s good to hear.”

“Tell me where the other loose thread is and I’ll take care of it,” Zach offered.

“No. He’s worth more to us alive than dead.”

”Are you up to talking to him? Because you look like shit.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Screw you.”

He shoved back from the table, snagged his empty cup and headed for the trash can. At the counter, he was about to toss it when something in the gleaming back panel of the espresso machine caught his eye. His blood froze at the sight of a familiar face staring back at him.

Joe.

It wasn’t Joe. It was him.

He hadn’t shaved since Friday and had the scruff to prove it. A sleepless weekend explained the bloodshot eyes and dark circles. The wind and cold, combined with neglect of his skincare routine, had stripped his skin raw, leaving it cracked and red like a drunk’s. He looked as if he’d gone on a three-day bender instead of spending the weekend in a hospital room. He looked like Joe Hansen—even more so than usual.

Lloyd stared at the reflection until his eyes couldn’t focus anymore. It didn’t make a difference. The image was burned into his brain. It wasn’t just their physical resemblance, it went deeper. The need for control, the volcanic temper. The chaos he’d spent his whole life trying to keep at bay. He crumpled up his cup and tossed it into the canister with more force than he’d meant to. A heavy weight settled in his chest. No matter how hard he tried to outrun it, Joe’s blood still ran in his veins. He’d rather die than admit it, but the truth, that he and Joe were fruit of the same tree, was inescapable.

He stepped out of the coffee shop into the cold. Its icy bite was nothing compared to the pain of the knowledge that was sinking into his bones. He couldn’t keep you in his life, not in good conscience, not knowing the evil that lurked inside of him. The leaves crunched under his feet and the sound was like a physical reminder: nothing lasts forever. Your relationship had already stretched long beyond its season. No matter how much he wished otherwise, soon the pieces of your lives would no longer fit together. You’d outgrow him. Once that happened, any attempt he made to patch up the seams would cause it to unravel further.

The revelation cleared his mind, though his heart felt ten degrees colder. His chest throbbed, but at least the mental storm that had raged for days finally broke, leaving a hollow stillness in its wake. There wasn’t a choice for him to make, only a truth for him to accept. Your relationship was temporary and it would soon draw to a close. He couldn’t risk holding you back or allowing his past to endanger you again. The facts were clear cut, black-and-white. There was a wrong decision and a right one. If he wanted you to have the future that you deserved he had to do the right thing.

He had to break things off. Whether it broke his own heart didn’t matter.

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Coming Soon - Chapter XXX

Masterlist

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oceandolores · 4 hours ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 21

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"If we died tonight, I'd die yours,"

summary: joel found you

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 21

masterlist!

previous | chapter 20

The cold seeped into your bones, icy and unyielding against the concrete floor, and you could feel every bruise, every cut, every ache in your body.

The pain was an unrelenting, throbbing reminder of everything you’d endured, but that wasn’t the worst part. What tore at you now was the horror of seeing Emma, your best friend, taken from this world in a way you wouldn’t have believed possible had you not witnessed it with your own eyes.

Her life, her laughter, her warmth—gone. Because of you.

A sob caught in your throat as the weight of it crushed you. Emma hadn’t deserved this; she had a whole life stretched out before her, full of hope and love.

She had just started it, a new chapter, a new promise. And now, because she’d tried to save you, it had ended in unimaginable horror. The images wouldn’t leave you, wouldn’t stop replaying in your mind.

Jim—God, he was probably gone too. Gone, because of you.

Desperation clawed at your chest, leaving you empty and hollow. You could feel yourself slipping, hope draining out of you like a slow bleed, and something bitter was taking its place.

A deep, aching question clawed at the edges of your mind, one you’d never dared ask before, but one that refused to stay silent any longer:

Why would God let this happen to you?

You’d loved Him, stayed faithful, tried to be everything you were taught you should be. And yet, here you were, in the darkest pit, left to rot.

Why?

Tears blurred your vision, and somewhere between the sobs and the silence, you felt something break inside you.

You stopped praying, stopped hoping for anything good. The words, the comfort, the promises—all of it felt hollow.

You were empty now, just a shell of everything you once believed.

The door creaked open, and in he came—Negan, his footsteps echoing like the toll of a death knell. He looked at you, pity mingling with something else in his gaze, a twisted satisfaction.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he shook his head, his voice dripping with mocking sympathy.

“Aw, look at you,” he cooed.

“See, doll, I didn’t want it to come to this. But you had to go and make things difficult. If you’d just listened to me—if you’d been my good girl—none of this would’ve happened.”

The rage bubbled up, scalding and raw. You looked at him, every ounce of hatred burning in your eyes. “What did you do to her?” The words barely made it past the tightness in your throat, but they were laced with venom.

You could feel it, the sickening truth—whatever he’d done, it was something worse than you could imagine.

Negan chuckled, an unholy sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t you worry about her,” he said, a dark glint in his eye.

“I took real good care of her.” The words lingered, taunting, but before you could say anything more, he pulled a medical kit from his bag, the glint of a syringe catching your eye.

Panic shot through you, and you scrambled backward, heart pounding. “Don’t… don’t touch me!"

Negan’s eyes softened, his tone suddenly too gentle, too calm. “Relax, princess,” he murmured, reaching for your arm. “I just need you to play along for a bit.”

But you jerked back, thrashing against his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice cracked, fueled by the horror churning in your chest, the feeling of his hand on your skin like a brand.

The gentle smile on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous stare. His grip tightened, bruising, and in one swift motion, he struck you across the face, the impact leaving stars in your vision.

“Listen to me, you stupid little bitch,” he hissed, his voice low and deadly. “I’m done asking nicely. You’re going to be a good girl and do as I say, or you’re going to wish you had.”

You barely registered the sting of the needle as he plunged it into your arm. The world began to blur, darkness creeping in from the edges, and you fought it, clawing for consciousness, desperate not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

But the drug took hold fast, dragging you down, down, until the world was nothing but darkness.

***

The address Negan gave led Joel to an unassuming neighborhood, quiet and tucked away, where homes lined the street like silent sentries.

Everything here was normal, almost obscenely so, and the ordinariness of it all set his nerves on edge. How could something so terrible be hiding behind these closed doors?

How could neighbors go about their days, clueless to the horror lurking so close? He took a long, deep breath, steeling himself, fingers grazing over the cold metal of his pistol holstered by his side.

He wasn’t a fool; he knew this was a trap. But nothing—nothing—would stop him from stepping into it if it meant the chance to see you alive again.

Before he entered, Joel slipped his phone from his pocket, sending his location to Tommy, leaving the device outside on a rock by the front gate.

He couldn’t afford distractions; whatever came next would be a fight to the end.

As he made his way up the steps, he felt it in his bones, that tether connecting him to you, stretched thin but unbroken. He knew you were here, somewhere behind these walls, waiting, needing him.

His heart ached at the thought of what you’d endured. It wasn’t right—none of this was right.

Inside, the air was thick with rot and rust, the scent of decay seeping into Joel’s lungs as he moved through the shadowed house.

Every step felt like a descent deeper into hell, each room echoing with the silent horror Negan had constructed within these walls.

The quiet was suffocating, pressing against his senses as he advanced with tense, deliberate steps, the weight of his weapon a cold comfort against his side.

The metallic smell of blood seemed to seep through the walls, thickening the air like rot as Joel moved down the dim corridor, his gaze fixed on the heavy big metal door at the end.

Blood was smeared across its surface, a dark, cruel stain, like the mark of some unholy ritual. He forced himself to breathe through the nausea rising in his throat, steadying himself with a muttered plea.

Please, God, let her be alive.

With a rough, trembling hand, he pushed open the door, entering a space so silent and hollow it felt like stepping into a tomb. The walls were metallic and gray, shimmering faintly under the dim, flickering light.

A hulking freezer stood in the corner, and around it lay instruments of terror—chainsaws, rusted wrenches, and knives coated in dried blood.

This was no ordinary room; it was a pit of nightmares.

He barely took three steps before his gaze froze on the horror ahead—a headless body hung from a butcher’s hook.

With a dress dangling from her shoulders, hair matted against blood-smeared fabric. For a sickening moment, his heart stopped, every nerve screaming as he tried to push down the dread that it was you.

But it wasn’t.

He knew you. The shape of your body, the softness of your shoulders, the line of your arms. Relief coursed through him, but only for a split second.

Desperately, he moved toward the freezer, steeling himself for whatever horror he might find. Inside, jars lined the shelves—heads frozen in twisted, agonized expressions.

Women. Girls to be exact. They don't look older than 20.

His stomach churned violently, but he couldn’t look away. And there, in a fresh jar, he saw Emma’s familiar face, her eyes closed forever in a peaceful, sickening slumber.

His chest tightened as the desperate, icy panic surged within him. He’s taken them all.

As he backed away, his gaze landed on a large object draped in thick canvas, its edges sagging like a dark secret. Swallowing, he approached, slowly pulling back the cover, revealing a small dog cage, lined with soiled fabric and stained in red.

It's you.

He could barely breathe as he took in the sight, disbelief warring with hope. Inside, you lay motionless, your body crumpled and cold, pale in the dim light, bruises shadowing your face and arms.

Every inch of you looked fragile, lifeless. Joel’s heart shattered, the pain so raw it made him stagger.

"No... no," he whispered, stumbling forward. "No.” His voice cracked, shattering the silence.

He dropped to his knees, frantically reaching through the bars, hands trembling as he fumbled with the lock.

It wouldn’t budge, metal biting into his hands as he yanked, pulled, and beat at it in fury until finally, with a final, desperate heave, it gave way.

He pulled your body in his arms, a wave of coldness seeping through his skin as he held you close, brushing a shaking hand against your cheek, as if he could will the warmth back into you.

“Baby…I’m here.” His voice was barely a whisper, as fragile as he’d ever been, a man torn open.

He pressed his ear to your chest, desperate for any sign of life, but your skin was cold, your pulse faint to nonexistent, the quiet threatening to consume him.

"I'm here now… open your eyes, babygirl," he whispered, voice raw and trembling, searching for any flicker, any faint sign of life.

He leaned close, brushing his thumb over your bruised skin, trying to will you back to him. "Doll… please… open your eyes. I'm here."

His own heartbeat thundered in his ears, his body trembling with the weight of the moment, and yet—somewhere, deep in his bones—he felt you.

You couldn’t be gone. Not you. This couldn’t be happening.

Desperation clawed at him as he murmured again, “I’m here… please, please… doll…” The sound of his voice, broken and laced with grief, shattered in the silence.

He clutched you tighter, pressing you to his chest, a hollow ache blooming in the very marrow of him. "Please… don't do this to me, baby…"

"Don't do this to me..."

For the first time in years, Joel prayed.

He’d long forgotten how to ask for mercy, how to whisper words into the void and hope something beyond him might listen.

But here, in this moment, he found himself clinging to the last, fragile remnants of belief, calling out to a God he’d long turned away from, begging—pleading—that you be spared.

His lips moved in a silent prayer, the words barely more than a broken murmur, all his hope wrapped into each fractured plea. Please… don’t take her. Don’t let her go.

His world collapsed into this single, unbearable moment. Everything—the pain, the emptiness, the years he’d spent buried in his own grief—shrank down to this: holding you, willing you to stay.

A part of him whispered that you were gone, that he’d come too late. It sliced through him, the pain cold and merciless, tearing at him from the inside.

But he couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. He held you tighter, as if he could pull you back to life with sheer, desperate force.

"Come on, babygirl," he whispered, his voice a soft plea, thick with tears. "You promised me… remember? You promised."

His tears fell onto your skin, mingling with the blood that marred your face, his grief seeping into every inch of you. He bent his head, pressing his lips against your forehead, his tears hot and relentless.

Every memory, every moment with you flashed through his mind, a lifetime of love condensed into seconds. The laughter you’d shared, the softness in your eyes when you’d look at him—all of it now hung in the balance, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

Joel's grip tightened, his arms wrapped around you like he could shield you, even now, from everything dark and vile in this world. "Please, come back to me," he choked out, his voice barely more than a breath, the words pulled from the deepest part of him.

Come back.

His chest ached, his heart beating against a wall of sorrow so thick it was suffocating. And still, he held you, as though love alone could tether your soul back to him, could fill the silence that had swallowed you whole.

Suddenly, the silence between you shattered as you gasped awake, air flooding into your lungs in a desperate, rattling breath.

Joel’s heart jolted with such force he almost pulled back, but instead, he held you tighter, his relief an overwhelming wave crashing over him.

You thrashed weakly in his arms, vision blurred, disoriented and terrified, your voice breaking in panicked cries. "No! No! Don’t touch me!"

"Hey, hey… it’s me. It’s me," he murmured softly, his hands gentle on your shoulders as he tried to calm you.

His voice was thick, a rough whisper, barely holding back the tears of relief as he drew you closer, feeling the steady warmth of your breath against his chest.

"Joel?" He felt you relax, and slowly, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go, Joel wrapped his arms tighter around you, silently thanking whatever force was left in this world for bringing you back to him.

"Thank you...Thank you God," he whispered to God, to bring you back.

Your blurred vision cleared, and as your gaze fell on his face, the tears came, spilling over in a torrent of relief, of exhaustion, of love.

You clung to him, like a child, letting out every fear, every longing, until the weight of his presence seemed to ground you, to make you feel safe again.

“I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered, your voice trembling, breaking.

He pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your head, his words soft and steady. "I got you. You’re safe now… I’m here now." His heart clenched as he felt you collapse against him, trusting him to carry the weight of this moment.

The horror of everything he’d witnessed, everything he’d feared, lingered on the edges of his mind, but with you here in his arms, he could finally breathe.

He then kissed you, you kissed him back.

The warmth of Joel's embrace, that kiss—long, desperate, everything unspoken between you poured into it—all of it felt like salvation, like drowning in relief only to be pulled into air and held there, safe.

Your lips pressed together in a fierce, shared need to feel every ache, every moment of fear, longing, and love—the kiss deepening as if it could carry every bit of pain you’d endured and let it dissolve in his arms.

For a moment, it was just the two of you against the horror, the emptiness that had swallowed you whole.

Here, with him, you are finally feel alive again.

But then, the moment split open. A shadow loomed behind him, and a chill ran down your spine, the dread slithering into your heart before you even turned.

You pulled back, eyes wide, breath catching as you saw Negan standing there, his mouth twisted in a cruel, dark smirk.

In his hands was that familiar bat, glinting under the dim light, raised with lethal intent.

"NO, JOEL—" you managed, your voice breaking as terror surged through you, but it was already too late.

The bat crashed down with a sickening, brutal force, and Joel’s body crumpled beneath the blow.

“Joel!” Your scream tore through the silence, raw and desperate. His form lay motionless, blood slowly trickling from the wound on his head, staining his face as his eyes fell shut.

The sight shattered you.

Negan grabbed you, yanking you away with unyielding strength. You kicked, you clawed, but it was no use. “NO! Don’t do anything to him! Please, don’t hurt him, don’t—” But your pleas fell on deaf ears.

He threw you back into the cold, unforgiving cage, the door slamming shut with a merciless clang.

"NEGAN, NO!" You pounded against the bars, fists slamming as you screamed. He only watched, amused, as though your desperation was an orchestra he enjoyed conducting.

Across the room, Negan dragged Joel’s limp body to a chair, binding his hands and legs with thick, rough ropes. He worked meticulously, each knot tight, his gaze never leaving Joel's battered face.

Blood dripped from the wound on Joel’s head, trailing slowly down his neck, and you felt a crushing helplessness as you watched him, your voice cracking as you screamed.

“Joel! Joel, please… wake up…”

You clawed at the bars until your nails split, your hands bloody, but the steel held fast.

The reality of the moment sank into your bones like ice, each second stretching with dread. "NEGAN, PLEASE!" you begged, your voice breaking, but he only turned toward you with a mocking, cold look.

"That’s the last time he’ll get to touch you," Negan sneered, disgust twisting in his voice as he gestured back at the spot where you’d kissed Joel, where you’d clung to him like he was your last hope. “Disgusting.”

***

Joel’s world flickered back to life in fragments, his mind swimming as he fought the waves of blackness pressing against him.

His head throbbed with a searing pain, and his vision blurred as he forced his eyes open, seeing only flashes of movement and shapes at first.

Then, bit by bit, his sight cleared, and he could see you through the haze, slumped against the bars of a cage, tears streaming down your face as you called his name, desperate and broken.

His heart twisted at the sight, fear tearing through him as he tried to reach for you, only to feel the bite of ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles.

He was bound to the chair, unable to move. Panic settled into his chest, sharp and unforgiving. “Doll…” he managed, his voice hoarse and shaky as he struggled against the restraints, the blood from his wound still warm, trickling down his neck.

Negan’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade scraping against bone. "Well, look who’s finally awake,"he jeered, stepping into Joel’s view, his eyes gleaming with a sick, twisted pleasure.

Every word that left Negan’s lips felt like an assault, each syllable laced with venom.

The sight of him, standing there so casually, was enough to stir something inside Joel that was deeper than fury—it was primal, raw, a burning hatred that ignited within him.

Every muscle in his body screamed to break free, to get to you, to tear Negan apart. He pulled at the ropes, feeling them bite into his skin, but they held fast, as immovable as the horror that had unfolded.

"I'm going to kill you," Joel growled, the words thick with rage and the promise of retribution. The air around him seemed to crackle with violence, his every word a threat, his every breath heavy with hatred.

Negan’s laugh was low and cruel, a sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Without warning, he drove his fist into Joel's stomach, and the sound of it—the sickening thud—echoed in the room, a sharp crack of pain that sent a wave of terror through you.

“No!” you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands reaching helplessly through the bars, as if you could stop the onslaught with your mere presence.

Negan wiped the blood from his knuckles and smiled. "You think you can save her, huh? Think you can play hero, Miller?" he mocked, his voice dripping with scorn.

"C’mon, you can’t be that stupid. You really think I’d kill her? Please… she’s way too much fun to kill." He sneered, another brutal punch landing on Joel’s face, snapping his head to the side with a sickening crack.

Joel’s eyes were darkened with pain, his mouth now filled with blood, but the fire in him didn’t waver. "I’m gonna fucking kill you," Joel spat, the blood dribbling from his lips, his voice hoarse with fury.

Negan tilted his head, studying Joel with a twisted grin. "Tough guy, huh?" he said, mocking the very idea of Joel’s strength. "Well, let’s see how tough you are when you can’t do a damn thing about it."

Joel’s heart was thundering in his chest, the pulse of his veins matching the brutal rhythm of the punches he endured.

But his spirit didn’t falter; it only burned brighter with every insult, with every blow that landed on his battered body.

Negan circled him, like a predator sizing up its prey, leaning in close, his voice thick with venom as he whispered into Joel’s ear. "What were you thinking, huh? That you could just walk in here and stop me?" He chuckled, shaking his head, his voice dripping with mocking pity.

"We were fine without you. Hell, we were thriving without you." His eyes flicked over to you in the cage, a dark glimmer in them. "She was happy, you know. Didn’t need you to be in her head. But here you are, playing the white knight, trying to save the girl you don’t even fucking deserve."

Negan's voice was like poison, dripping from his lips with a slow, deliberate cruelty, each word laced with venom meant to tear Joel down, to twist the knife deeper.

He knew the weight of Joel's guilt, the shadows of his past, and now, he was going to use it against him.

"You think you deserve her?" Negan’s tone was mocking, cruel, his eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure. "You? You think you can be her hero, Miller? You’ve known her since she was a little girl, right? Since she was three? And now you’re fucking her?" His voice rose with each word, the venom thickening, as if he could make Joel choke on the very idea.

"Disgusting."

Joel’s stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t respond—not yet. Not when Negan was playing with fire, fanning the flames of his mind, trying to ignite a spark of doubt in his heart.

Joel remained silent, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his gaze burning holes into the floor beneath him.

Negan was trying to gaslight him, make him feel like the monster, make him believe the lies about his relationship with you.

Negan leaned in, his breath hot against Joel's ear, like a shadow whispering sweet poison into his soul. "You really think you’re a hero, huh?" He chuckled darkly.

"You think you’re saving her? You’re just like them, Miller. Just like Ben. Just like that goddamn pedophile you killed. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it—taking matters into your own hands, playing God, playing judge, jury, and executioner. You’re the same fucking monster they were. You’re just too stupid to see it."

The words sent a cold shiver through Joel’s veins, like ice water splashing against his skin.

The ghosts of his past clawed at him, the blood-stained memories that had been haunting him for years now bubbling up to the surface. He had killed Ben and Jamie. Killed them to protect her.

"You killed them because you want her to be all yours. Not because you want to protect her,"

Joel’s jaw clenched, but his mind started to churn with the doubt Negan planted, each word a tiny crack in the wall Joel had built around himself.

He had been justifying everything, hadn’t he? His actions… the things he did for you. It was all for you, wasn’t it? To protect you.

But Negan was playing with fire, and his words were like gasoline—burning through the edges of Joel’s sanity, forcing him to look at the truth through a new, ugly lens.

“God,” Negan’s voice dropped to a low murmur, almost conversational, “I watched her for a long time. Long before you even fucking noticed her.”

He stepped closer, his breath sour, smelling of something rotten, something foul. “The first time I met her father… I was going to repent. I was going to change. Hell, Naomi told me to visit Reverend Gibson, to clean up my act, to find some peace. I was gonna find salvation. All those other girls—bored me. But then… I saw her."

"She was in that white sundress, innocent, pure. I thought—" He let out a dark laugh, shaking his head. “I thought God wanted me to have her, Miller. Maybe she was my redemption. To have a pure, sweet, innocent soul to redeem my sins."

"But then you showed up. Like a fucking rat you have to showed up for God's sake!"

Joel felt his breath catch, like he was drowning in the weight of Negan’s words, each one pressing down on him, pushing him deeper into a pit of guilt and self-loathing.

Negan’s laughter was sickening. It clawed at Joel’s chest, and the air felt thick, choking. “You… you played the fucking hero, huh? You couldn’t leave well enough alone."

Negan walking circled him, "You thought you could save her from her misery just because her father disciplined her. So what, Joel? Girls need to be fucking taught!"

"I agree with her father on that one. She was a brat! and oh she still is!"

The silence was deafening after those words. They hung in the air like smoke, choking the life out of Joel, filling him with a slow, creeping dread.

His mind spun, the thought of you, so innocent, so pure, now tangled in his web. Negan was poisoning everything, every memory of you, twisting it into something ugly, something perverse.

Negan didn’t stop, his words like chains tightening around Joel’s neck, dragging him deeper into the muck. "You led her to you, Joel. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t."

"You acted like you could protect her. But you can’t even protect yourself from your own past, can you? You’re so goddamn broken, so messed up. And now you’re just taking advantage of her.

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, a storm of guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave. Was he—had he really led you here? Was he really just as bad as Negan said?

Negan’s voice dropped to a mocking whisper, dragging the words through Joel's mind like claws on glass. “She was your daughter’s friend, Joel. Ellie’s friend.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Joel’s ear.

“Don’t you feel disgusted? You’ve fucked your daughter’s friend. That’s how far you’ve fallen.”

Joel’s head swam, the weight of the words crashing over him, drowning him in a sea of doubt and self-loathing.

His grip tightened on the ropes, his knuckles white, but there was something else now—a spark of something dark, something cold in his chest.

"What do you think Jane would say, huh?" with the mention of his late wife, Joel's body tighten up.

"You think she’d be proud of you, molesting Evelyn’s daughter? Evelyn, Jane’s best friend. You’re disgusting, Joel. All of this? It’s on you."

Negan continued, his voice a low, mocking growl, pushing Joel to the edge. “You’re no better than any of us. Look at you, Miller."

"You took advantage of her. She was just a little girl who needed someone to teach her. And you? You saw an opportunity, didn’t you?”

"You are pathetic," Negan's word hit like a snake's fangs, stung through Joel's heart.

Joel clenched his fists harder, his body trembling with rage, fear, and a deep sense of self-loathing. His throat burned as he fought to keep the tears back, to keep from choking on the agony of his own thoughts. The floodgates were closing, but they were trembling, about to burst.

What has he done?

Joel’s thoughts were a maelstrom now. He couldn’t focus. His mind was torn between the images of you—so sweet, so innocent—and the cruel words that Negan kept throwing at him, one after another.

But then, through the haze of doubt, through the suffocating weight of Negan’s venom, Joel heard your voice.

“No!” You screamed, your voice breaking through the madness, a raw, desperate plea.

“Joel, don’t listen to him!” The words trembled on your lips, an echo of everything you needed to say, everything you wanted Joel to hear.

"Don't listen to him!" you screamed again, your breath ragged, your throat burning from the effort. The sound of Negan’s poison lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and thick, but you couldn’t let it smother the truth.

You needed him to hear you. He needed to hear you.

"Joel, look at me!" you pleaded, your hands gripping the bars of the cage so tightly your fingers turned white.

Every word Negan had said felt like a bullet to your heart, but you couldn’t—you wouldn’t—let Joel fall into the same trap. He was better than this.

He is better than them.

"You’re not like them, Joel. You never were!" The words spilled from your mouth, raw and desperate, desperate to break through the fog that was clouding his mind.

You needed him to see the truth—the truth that was you and him, the life you shared, the love you both fought for in the darkest corners.

"You love me. In your own way, but you love me, Joel! You saved me! You gave me a life I never thought I deserved." Your voice cracked with the weight of everything you were feeling, the deep well of emotion that surged between you both.

"Joel, I love you."

"I love you, Joel. and you love me, you are my savior, you saved me."

"Look at me! Look at me, Joel! Don't let him under your skin, please,"

Negan, on the other side of this fragile moment, stood grinning, eyes glinting with amusement, as if watching a puppet fight its strings.

He saw Joel waver, saw the flicker of doubt and fear, and he thrived on it. His smile was nothing short of wicked, enjoying the chaos he had stirred.

He had set his trap, and now he watched, savoring the confusion that was slowly chipping away at Joel’s resolve.

You could see Joel, fighting against the chaos in his own mind, the weight of Negan’s twisted words pulling at him like a chain.

His eyes flickered, lost, haunted, caught between his past and the present, between the lies and the truth. But then—then—he looked at you.

For a moment, it was like time stopped. The world held its breath, and all that existed was you and him.

His gaze locked on yours, and in that instant, you saw everything—the raw, unspoken love, the pain, the guilt, the shame, but also the fight.

The fight to break free, the fight to protect you, the fight to keep you safe.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice soft but steady now, as if you were trying to calm the storm that raged inside him.

"You are so much better than this. You’re not like them, Joel. You’re not a monster. You are the best father Ellie and Sarah could ever want, Joel. They will be proud of you, she would have. The best man I have ever wanted, you're my protecter, the love of my life, you are my soul, Joel."

But as you cried out to him, Negan’s smile twisted into a sneer, his patience running thin. "Enough with your fucking mouth!" he growled, turning to you with fury, his hands reaching for the cage, yanking the door open with a violence that made you flinch.

"Shut up already."

Before you could react, Negan was on you, his hand slapping across your face with a sickening force, sending your head whipping to the side.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room, louder than your scream. The sting spread like fire across your cheek, your eyes filling with tears that blurred your vision.

For a moment, the world spun—his presence, his cruelty, all of it was too much to bear.

With that, Joel—Joel is awake.

In that instant, the haze lifted from his eyes. The fury, the protectiveness, everything that made Joel Joel came rushing back.

His muscles strained against the ropes, his eyes flashing with an intensity that would have burned holes in the walls if he could.

He was no longer the broken man Negan had manipulated, no longer the victim of his words.

He was the man who had fought for you, the man who had saved you.

"You son of a bitch!" Joel roared, the raw anger in his voice like a clap of thunder. His body surged forward, every instinct screaming to protect you, to break free from his restraints.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" He screamed, his hands were shaking with rage, but that was the only thing that kept him grounded—the unrelenting need to destroy the man who had dared to lay a finger on you.

The rope binding Joel's wrists strained as he twisted, trying to force the knot loose, his mind ablaze with fury. Every word Negan spoke chipped away at his restraint, his heart hammering with hatred.

The sight of you in Negan's hold—his arm around your neck, the gleaming knife pressed to your throat—made Joel’s blood boil.

But he knew he had to keep his wits; one wrong move, and you’d be lost.

Negan grinned, tightening his grip around your neck. His voice was dripping with mockery as he taunted, "What’s the matter, honey? Scared now?" He leaned closer, his sneer twisted with sadistic pleasure.

"Oh, Joel, why’d you have to ruin everything? If it wasn’t for you, she and I��" he paused, savoring each word, "we’d have lived happily ever after."

Joel’s hands shook as he worked against the restraints, his heart pounding. Negan’s twisted words were knives slicing into him, each one crueler than the last.

"She’s delicious, Joel," Negan sneered, his voice sickly sweet as he ran his tongue along his teeth. "The way she tastes... can’t get enough of her." He licked his lips exaggeratedly, taunting Joel, mocking him with every vile syllable.

"You should’ve known," Negan laughed, pressing the blade closer to your skin, just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood.

"Stop it, Negan, please," you whimpered, tears spilling from your eyes, the despair twisting in your voice.

Negan only tightened his hold, his voice low and cruel. "What’s the matter, honey? You were enjoying it too, right?" The words crushed you, and you turned your face away, unable to look at Joel, a sense of shame sinking into your soul.

Joel's fingers scraped against the ropes with renewed desperation, his fury almost blinding.

Negan’s voice slithered through the silence, every word laced with cruelty. "You know," he continued, "I thought of sharing her around with the others. She made me good money, after all. She knows how to entertain… they paid well. Maybe you’d want a turn, too, Joel. She’s… profitable." He laughed, a dark, rasping sound that reverberated in the room, tightening the coil of hatred in Joel’s chest.

"I’m gonna kill you," Joel growled through gritted teeth, his voice a low, venomous promise.

"Ah, ah," Negan teased, pressing the blade harder against your skin, making you wince. "I’m not finished yet."

Negan’s voice softened, a calculated cruelty in every word as he continued. "But I started thinking... she can’t stay young forever. Thought maybe… it’d be a shame not to pass on those… charming qualities of hers."

"And wouldn’t you know it, Joel, she was carrying a piece of me inside her. That's right, My child!"

"She didn’t agree, of course… but a little force never hurt, right?"

Joel’s heart froze at Negan’s taunts, every word tearing open old wounds he’d buried deep.

Each sentence was a twisted knife, slashing at the walls Joel had built to keep the pain, guilt, and memories at bay. Negan’s voice was venomous, slithering around the broken dreams Joel had long since given up on.

He felt the darkness creeping back—the part of him that, years ago, had once loved fiercely, only to lose everything in one brutal instant.

But pregnant? His mind reeled, the word pounding in his skull like a drum. The image of you, scared and vulnerable, carrying his child—his child—pierced through the numbness in his heart.

He could barely breathe, the thought of you enduring such horror while he was oblivious igniting a fury so primal, so fierce, it nearly drowned him.

Rage tangled with a crushing sense of failure. He wanted to rip Negan apart with his bare hands, make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d inflicted.

Negan’s twisted laughter cut through his thoughts. “Yeah, she wanted a family, Joel,” he sneered, lips curling in a malicious grin.

“She had this fucking unrealistic idea, delusional bitch. You. Her. Playing house. Kids. The whole perfect life fantasy. But she knew, didn’t she?” Negan’s gaze pierced Joel, mocking him with each word.

“You were scared of it, scared of screwing it up like you did the last time. I mean, how could she not know? You’ve got ‘haunted’ written all over you. Lost control, didn't you? When you killed your own family,” Negan laughed, as if savoring each jab.

Inside, Joel’s heart twisted. He remembered the night like yesterday. Now he was left with nothing but ashes and guilt that hollowed him out from the inside.

Every part of him was screaming to shut Negan up, to wipe that smug look off his face. But it was true, wasn’t it? Deep down, he was scared—scared of losing again, scared of failing you the way he’d failed before.

But you, you were different. Despite everything, you stayed.

Despite the darkness he carried, the broken parts he tried to hide, you’d somehow found something worth holding onto.

That fierce loyalty of yours was like a light in the pitch-black cave of his heart, something so pure it almost hurt to look at.

You were stupid, he told himself, but the truth was you were braver than he ever could be.

You had this impossible, relentless hope—the dream of a life together, a family, even though he’d told himself it could never be.

You had loved him, flaws and all, even when he couldn’t love himself. And now, the thought of what Negan had done, the way he’d shattered that hope, drove him to the edge.

"But this stupid bitch killed my baby before they could feel their daddy's voice,"

Negan's words echoed in the dim room, each one twisting deeper into Joel's heart. The pain surged through him like wildfire. You'd done the unimaginable for him, sacrificing more than he could comprehend, and now here you were, your hope and loyalty used against you like weapons.

It was more than he could take—Negan was tearing away the last pieces of himself, bit by bit. Joel's fists clenched tight, knuckles white, straining against the binds holding him back, desperate to shut Negan up, to take back what had been lost.

Negan’s voice grew sharper, each taunt slicing like a blade. "You see, Joel? this bitch is loyal and fucking crazy, she killed her own child for you! just to make a new baby for you!"

"She killed her own kid—for you. All that love, all that loyalty, wasted on you."

"But it’s over, you hear me? You and her? Done. I’ll make sure she forgets you. And when I’m finished with you, there’ll be nothing left."

The world narrowed to this single moment. Negan, too consumed with his taunts to notice, didn’t see you move.

In a swift, silent motion, you grabbed a jagged tool from the ground behind him, the weight of it heavy in your hand. You swung it, heart pounding, and plunged it into Negan's chest with everything you had.

Negan gasped, staggering back, his eyes flashing with fury and shock. In an instant, he retaliated, plunging his knife into your side.

The pain ripped through you, a white-hot flash as you felt the blade sink in, stealing the air from your lungs.

"Joel..."

Time slowed, the world narrowing to the throbbing ache and the look on Joel's face—his eyes wide, pure horror carved into every line, as he screamed for you, voice raw and desperate.

"NO!"

Your name fell from his lips, a broken prayer, just as you stumbled back, collapsing onto the cold ground. Negan kicked you aside with brutal force, your body sliding across the floor as you fought to keep your vision steady.

You could barely hear Joel’s cries over the rushing in your ears, his desperate shout, the anguish that filled every word, but you felt his presence as if he were right there, holding you.

The sound of wood splintering filled the room as Joel threw his weight against the chair, shattering the binds that held him. In one furious motion, he was on his feet, lunging at Negan with a force that seemed to shake the air.

They collided in a storm of fists and fury, each punch landing like thunder. Blood smeared the floor, echoing the carnage that seethed within Joel’s heart, his fists fueled by a rage that seemed boundless.

Every blow was a release, a reckoning for the agony and fear Negan had unleashed.

Through your blurred vision, you saw them—Joel, relentless and unyielding, his fists raining down on Negan, every punch charged with a love he’d never put into words, a love you could feel, pulsing through every beat of your wounded heart.

The scene before you felt like a twisted nightmare, each moment a struggle to stay present, to push through the pain as blood seeped from your wounds.

You clutched your side, feeling the warmth slip between your fingers as you pressed down, refusing to give in. You had to stay awake. You had to stay with him.

Joel was still fighting, his fists relentless, fueled by desperation and a love that spoke louder than words. But Negan’s laugh rang out, mocking, dark.

“Tough guy, Miller? Is that all you got?” Negan’s face was bruised, bloodied, but he still smirked through it, as if even this pain was just another game to him.

"Bring it on!" Negan said. Joel didn’t let up, his fists a storm of anger, of love, of every unspoken promise he’d made. He was protecting you with everything he had.

But in a flash, Negan’s hand found his bat, and with a brutal swing, he sent Joel flying backward, his head colliding with the floor.

As Joel’s head slammed against the cold ground, a sickening thud reverberated through the room, a sound that echoed in the hollow of your chest.

But Negan loomed over him now, his eyes alight with a sadistic joy. “My turn,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again and again, each blow ringing out, a sickening thud that filled the room.

"NO!"

Joel tried to stand, tried to fight, but he was slowing, his strength waning. Blood pooled around him, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were glazed, his face pale.

Blood ran from his temple in a dark, winding river, and you could see the light beginning to fade in his eyes, the haze of consciousness slipping further with each ragged breath.

His gaze found yours, as he tried to smile, to offer you one last reassurance. You felt a surge of panic rise in you, raw and consuming, as you screamed, “NO! STOP IT!" you saw Negan bash his bat to Joel over and over again.

But Negan laughed, a deep, sinister sound that filled every corner of the room. “Look at you, Miller,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again, the force of it making Joel’s body jerk, each strike ripping pieces from your soul.

“You really thought you could win?”

Your vision blurred as hot tears slipped down your cheeks. The pain in your side was blinding, your own blood pooling beneath you, but nothing compared to the sight of Joel—your Joel—bruised, broken, and bleeding, his life slipping away with each heartbeat.

“Wake up, Joel,” you whispered, a plea laced with desperation, but your voice cracked as you saw him begin to fade.

"WAKE UP!" you screamed, “Please, Joel. Wake up!” You tried to rise, but agony shot through you, your body weakening under the weight of your injuries.

All you could do was lie there, helpless, watching as the man you loved was torn apart before your eyes.

Negan paused, his cruel smile widening as he noticed Joel’s lips moving, a faint whisper escaping.

“What’s that, tough guy? what did you say? oh my God! tough son of a bitch! look! he tried to speak to you!” He laughed looking at you as Negan point to Joel laying in the ground blood all over him, mocking, stepping back just enough to give Joel room to speak.

Joel’s head lifted, his bloodied face turned to you, his voice broken but determined.

“C-close… your eyes, doll…” His words were barely audible, each syllable a struggle, blood trickling from his mouth as he tried to form the words.

He lifted a hand, reaching out to you, trembling, his fingers stretching to bridge the aching space between you.

You shake your head crying, "No...Joel...", The world closed in around you, the weight of your love for him too heavy, too fierce, to bear the thought of letting go.

Tears blurred your vision, and you choked back a sob, heart shattering as you whispered back, “You can’t… I can’t lose you.”

"J-just, c-close your eyes, you're gonna be okay," he said again, blood now coming out from his mouth again.

Your chest heaved, your vision blurred with tears. No, you thought, this can’t be it.

The man who’d become everything to you—the man who’d fought against his own darkness just to hold onto yours—was fading. You couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t lose him.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your gaze fell to the floor.

It's your gun. Your bible and your gun you hadn't see in a long time.

The gun and the Bible Frank had given you, lying just within reach beneath the table. A fire rekindled within you.

A fury as deep and fierce as your love for Joel, you need to save him. This man would fight to his last breath for you, and you'd do the same for him.

Then you began to crawl, inch by painful inch, toward the weapon. Negan, too caught up in his victory, hadn’t noticed, his laughter grating on your raw nerves.

“Oh, don’t worry, Joel,” Negan sneered, leaning over him with twisted delight. “I’m gonna take real good care of your girl here. Good night.”

But before he could swing, before he could deliver that final, sickening blow, you rose to your knees, aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The sound shattered the silence. Negan froze, the shock evident in his wide, stunned eyes as he stumbled, blood blooming across his chest. You fired again.

You didn’t stop. Y

He looked at you, eyes narrowing, but you held your ground, staring into him with a steady, unyielding gaze.

Again and again and again, you pressed the trigger, feeling your breath hitch with each pull, each impact sinking deeper, as if each shot was tearing away the chains he had wrapped around you.

You are screaming as the fury poured from you, pouring all the agony into each pull of the trigger, trying to emptying every last round into him, watching him fall, watching his face twist in horror as his strength faded.

Finally, the gun clicked, empty, but you weren’t finished. Dropping the weapon, you stepped forward, picking up his bat.

The weight felt righteous in your hands. Standing over him, you paused, staring down into his eyes, watching the realization settle—he knew he’d lost.

Negan’s bloodied mouth twisted into a smile, his laughter hoarse and fading. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice broken, taunting to the very end. “All grown up now.”

Those were his last words.

You raised it high and swung the bat with everything you had, unleashing everything he’d taken from you, every wound he had caused, every hope he’d tried to crush.

The sound of cracking bone echoing in the room, a raw, primal scream tearing from your throat as you brought it down again and again and the bone shattered beneath you.

The world faded, reduced to the rhythmic, furious release of pain, until nothing was left but silence, his broken body beneath you.

You dropped the bat, chest heaving, the weight of it all crashing down on you.

And then you heard it—Joel’s voice, barely a whisper, calling your name, grounding you, reminding you of who you were beyond the fury.

You turned toward him, your body swaying with the weight of pain and exhaustion. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, as if the ground itself wanted to hold you back, to stop you from reaching him.

But you pushed forward, collapsing beside him, your trembling hands finding his blood-streaked face, brushing against his stubbled cheek with a gentleness that defied the violence you’d just endured.

"Joel… hang on," you whispered, but the words barely escaped your lips, thick with tears.

His head lolled against you, his brown eyes finding yours, and the blood pooled in his hair shimmered like some tragic halo.

You could feel the strength slipping from his body, a slow ebbing tide that pulled him further away with every heartbeat.

"Look at me, doll," he murmured, his voice a threadbare whisper, his hand lifting with a tremor to brush your cheek, his thumb sweeping away the tears that blurred your vision.

"You’re… you’re gonna be okay."

You shook your head, gathering him closer, your blood mingling with his as you pressed his head to your lap, cradling him as though you could shelter him from the world that had dealt you both such cruelty.

"No, we’re gonna be okay," you insisted, your voice breaking under the weight of it, a plea wrapped in promise.

"Don’t leave me… please, Joel. I can’t do this without you."

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the quiet resignation in his bruised face as he tried to smile, each line etched into his skin telling stories of a life spent fighting—and now, his final fight slipping through his grasp.

He lifted a hand, pressing against the wound on your side even as his own blood stained your fingers. Every breath was shallow, every word a strain.

He leaned his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin, his eyes barely focusing but still on you, clinging to this moment, to you.

"I’m sorry, babygirl," he whispered, as if the words themselves could bind you together just a little longer.

“No. Don’t… don’t do this to me, Joel,” you begged, pressing your hand harder to his wound too, as if the pressure alone could stop the flow of time, of everything that was slipping away.

You cupped his face, tears falling onto his skin, mingling with the blood that soaked you both. "We’re gonna be okay. We have to be."

But even as you spoke, darkness edged into your vision too, the room narrowing to the beat of your shared breaths, slow and unsteady.

His fingers held yours, entwined in a desperate grip that softened as his strength faded, his pulse a faint echo in your hand. “I love you,” he whispered.

The words raw and cracked, filling the hollow spaces between you, the ache and loss that could never be spoken. “I’ll always be with you.”

The world blurred, the pain and fear blending into a strange calm as you traced your fingers over his face, memorizing every line, every scar.

"I love you so much, Joel," you whispered, voice barely a breath, pressing your lips to his forehead, grounding yourself in the warmth of him, the man who had become your salvation, your strength.

He looked at you, his gaze softening, his hand falling to rest against your cheek one last time. "I found you,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the darkness began to claim him.

In the distance, a sound broke the silence—a wail of sirens, voices muffled and faint, calling yours and Joel's name.

You heard your own name echoed, felt the vibration of the world rushing toward you, but it felt so far away, unreachable.

“Joel?” you whispered, weak and fading, your vision blurring as exhaustion pulled you under. Joel didn’t respond, his head resting still against your lap, his breathing shallow, slipping away from you.

Your name rang out again, closer now, a voice that you knew—a voice that felt like home.

"Tommy," you managed, a faint smile softening your lips as your gaze lifted, catching sight of his familiar face before the darkness claimed you.

“He found us.”

And then, like the soft closing of a book, everything faded into black.

HANG ON PEOPLE, WE STILL GOT ONE MORE FINAL CHAPTER!

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lemotmo · 14 hours ago

Note

So I’ve been reading what you and others have said about Eddie saying he’s straight. And then the Ryan interviews with the brother and hetero and gf etc etc. and how it’s a misdirect and can’t spoil.

And I get that. That makes sense

But I guess I’m still confused because like the GA?

Fandom doesn’t need to be convinced of queer Eddie and buddie. We’re all for it. We look into these details and subtext etc.

But I thought the whole thing was getting the GA who doesn’t do those things primed and ready for it.

And I don’t see how them watching the episode with Eddie flat out declaring he’s straight. Followed up by interview after interview immediately after with Ryan also saying Eddie’s straight. He’s hetero. Bucks his brother. Maybe find a new girlfriend for Eddie eventually etc does that?

If anything they are the ones who are going to take all of that at face value. Ok the character stated his sexuality as straight. Ok the actor confirmed the characters sexuality is straight. And that just seems to be…the complete opposite of what they should be doing to the GA if they are heading for buddie?

And I’m sure some of the Ga will read between the lines sure. But for months it’s been soft launch hard launch get the GA ready and used to the idea. And this just seems like a course correct the other way which at best will just cause them all kinda of confusion and at worst make them go oh ok he’s straight guess nothing there after all.

Idk if any of that made sense 😅

It made perfect sense Nonny! 😋 I get it!

Thing is, these interviews aren't really written for the GA. The GA won't read a dozen different interviews from the same actors and the showrunner of a show they casually watch on a Thursday night. They don't follow the actors on social media and go nuts over every single scrap of bts we get. Some of them don't even have a clue who the actors are. They just know them as Buck and Eddie.

They tune in to 911 on Thursday, watch the show and move on to Doctor Odyssey (or something else if they don't like throuples 😉). They don't go out of their way to post about the show on social media and look up all the different online articles like we do.

These articles are written to engage the fandom. These websites know that they'll get lots of views from fandom people.

The GA only watches the show and they get their clues there. The GA aren't idiots. They have seen other shows with slow burns and they will pick up on some of the subtle clues. Some of them might have already been wondering if Eddie would turn out to be queer before episode 6, picking up on little clues.

Then episode 6 happened and it wasn't exactly subtle about where this story is going. Yes, Eddie did declare himself to be straight, but I'm sure that quite a few people were wondering why he said that. There was no need for him to declare his sexuality as the default is seen as 'everyone is straight' until proven otherwise (which is so dumb by the way, but whatever).

But I'm certain a lot of people have picked up on some of the obvious clues in that episode. That last scene was very LOUD as well. So a lot of people will start wondering if they'll have Buck and Eddie end up together, even the people who might never have thought of this before.

The show is slowly building up the story around buck and Eddie. There will be more clues in future episodes. More things to pick up on. It'll start really small, but it will build up more and more until it will be clear for everyone to see.

That's how you build up a good slow burn relationship.

Now, I'm sure there will always be people of the GA that don't pick up on anything and take anything at face value and I'm sure they might be surprised by queer Eddie. It happens. It's unavoidable.🤷‍♀️

#nonnies galore #GA versus fandom #buddie #ryan guzman interview #oliver stark interview #tim minear interview

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eand47 · 1 day ago

Text

Chapter III | Don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid (more to be add)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of weed, explicit language, sexual content, MINORS INTERACT ON YOUR OWN RISK (16+)

Word Count: 12,9K

<- previous chapter

NOTE: This chapter contains a lot of dialogues. More characters are being properly introduced. I don’t want to rush things between Reader and Ace as obviously by now it is a slow-burn story, but from this chapter on you will have more and more interaction between them. I still don’t want to let you entirely into Ace’s mind, as with time all of the things he does and says will have more logic as of why, I just hope that you will be patient enough until then. I’m sure a lot of you might have expected a smut for this chapter, but you will be disappointed, as we are far away from one at least for now xD. Please feel free to leave comments about how you feel about the story and the characters relationship. Also if you enjoy the way I write always feel free to request an image, one-shot or a headcanon and if I have the time I would love to write it <3 I really hope you enjoy the chapter ^^

“You were right about the picture for the exercise.” Usopp exclaimed when we were leaving class.

“I guess it is the same every year.” We were going to grab a lunch, as our lunchbreak started.

“Are we going back after?” he asked me. It was only him and I here from our assign group, everyone else was sick or not at university today, even Nami.

“Yes, I was going to ask you the same.” I thought for a second if we should go back or call the rest of the day off. We were not having any class with a teacher after, but we were supposed to start writing the story for the exercise today. “Let’s stay and do the story, as we can’t know who is coming tomorrow, and I don’t want to waste time, as we should be done with it by Friday morning.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” He agreed with me, opening the door to the cafeteria and letting me go first. “But what if they don’t like what we come up with?”

“Then they should have been here.” I snorted out. We grabbed some food and sat down in one of the corner tables. Usopp yawned, he locked so tired today.

“All good with you? You look so tired.” I asked him concerned. “Please, don’t get sick and leave me here alone.” I whined and he chuckled at my reaction.

“No, I’m not getting sick. Don’t worry.” He reassured me. “I just had so many things to do over the weekend and didn’t have much time to spend with Kaya, so I tried to make it up to her last night, and I’ve slept for like three-four hours.” He explained, running a hand over his face, trying not to fall asleep.

“Oh, you were making it up to her.” I tease him, wiggling my eyebrows playfully.

“Shut up.” He shushed me, throwing a napkin towards me as I was messing with him.

“What were you busy with this weekend?” I took a bite of my food, curios at what he had done over the weekend that took so much of his time and energy.

“First, I had to go back to my hometown. My mom needed help with moving and selling some old furniture, we had around the house.” He took a bite of his own food. “Then when I came back Luffy’s brothers called me and wanted my help for a song they are releasing at the end of this week.” A little smile twitched on my lips as he mentioned the guys, Ace’s face appearing on my mind. “But something happened with the program we were using for the final touches, so long story short, it took my whole day to restore the files. Ah, anyway how about you?” He brushed it off, not really in the mood to talk about it.

“Nothing interesting. I barely left my place; I was watching movies and napping.” I shrugged. My weekend was quite boring this passed week. Especially the day after I worked at the bar. Shanks made me stay extra time to help around cleaning. Speaking of Shanks, his words about Ace haven’t left my mind, neither did Ace. I caught myself thinking about him from time to time and the little interaction we had.

“Oh, I’m so jealous.” Usopp whined, interrupted my thoughts. He slouched his body on the table, crying for sleep.

“Come one let’s get you some coffee from somewhere.” I cooed, patting his head, making him get up from the chair.

“I’m telling you I almost fall asleep during class.” He stretched his body, trying to wake it up.

We took our stuffs and went to grab some coffee, from the near by cafe. Waiting on the queue to get coffee, we were discussing our project.

“Think about it – a tour in a medieval museum.” Usopp suggested, but I was still not convinced enough.

“I don’t know, I think quite lot of people have already thought of this.”

The weather was quite chilly today. I couldn’t stop shivering, but Usopp didn’t seem affected by it as he was wearing just a green hoodie.

“Yes, but we don’t need the most original idea.” He was right about this. We needed something simple as we were not sure if everyone from our group would be here for the rest of the week.

“How about a man who has nightmares of being tortured in his dreams, and he is calm at first, only to realise that this is actually real this time.” I suggested, as I was sure no one would think of it.

“Good idea, but...” Usopp paused looking at me. “Mine is better.” We said together, laughing at our inside joke. “Let’s get the coffee, and we will decide when we go back. You want one as well? He asked me as it was his turn to order. I needed something warm to drink, so I accepted his offer. He bought me one and I thanked him. As we were walking to one of the sound rooms in school, we saw a big poster hanged on one of the walls.

“Look, they are having a Halloween party this week in here.” I excitedly turned to look at Usopp. “I have lost track of time so bad I have forgotten that Halloween is this week. We should go!”

“Oh God, I forgot to tell you.” Usopp slapped his forehead. “Luffy told me to invite you to the party his brothers are throwing for Halloween. So, we are going to that one and you are coming with us!” He pointed his finger at me, letting me know that he would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

“But I have met them only once, Usopp. I will feel awkward just standing there not knowing anyone, at least here I know people.” I looked at the Halloween poster again. Here I have classmates that I know, even thought they were not as close to me as Nami and Usopp, it still will be less uncomfortable and awkward to be around them.

“What do you mean, you don’t know anyone there?” Usopp grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “You know me, Nami and the rest of the group now. Luffy told me to invite you himself. On top of it you know his brothers and the rest of the band.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we started to walk down the corridor. “Come on, Kaya is also going to be there. You will be surrounded by people who you know.” We entered the sound studio, leaving our bags on the side and taking seat on the chairs. “Come on (Y/N), that party will be ten times better than the one here.” He nagged me.

“Look I will think about it, okay? But no promises.” I tried to negotiate with him.

“Nah, I’m not taking a ‘no’ for an answer.” He wasn’t planning on giving up. “I’m letting Nami know, I’m too soft.” He pulled out his phone and started to text Nami.

“No, Usopp stop!” I grabbed the phone from his hands. “I will think about it – I promise.” I put his phone on the desk. “I will see, I might don’t go to neither of the parties, as I totally forgot that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have any costume.”

“Nah, that’s it I’m letting Nami know.” He grabbed his phone from the desk again and I just gave up arguing about it. “Done – I sent her a message.” Putting his phone away, he looked at me seriously. “You gonna see, you will have a lot of fun, I promise you.” He winked. “Now back to work.” He clapped his hands, and I rolled my eyes at him.

Halloween is my favourite day of the year – of course I want to dress up and go to party somewhere. Especially the one I got invited to just now. Even without nagging me, I knew that Usopp was right. The problem wasn’t the party, it was the fact that Ace would be there. I wanted to meet him again, but I was also nervous. We have barely spoken, but there was something luring me towards him – something that I couldn’t put my fingers on what it was. It was more than the way he looks that was for sure. I really wanted to get the chance of knowing him. He might turn out like the other guys I have met before – a pretty face and nothing more, but I can’t know until we get to know each other. Just thinking about him made me both excited and nervous.

“Earth to (Y/N).” Usopp waved his hand in my face, bringing me back to reality. “You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I took out my laptop so we can start writing the script. “So, we are going with my idea, right?” I glanced at Usopp.

“Mine is better but, sure.”

*******

I opened the fridge and sighed deeply, seeing that I have nothing left in it. I hesitated for a second if I should order or go to the store. I needed to buy food anyway, so I grabbed my headphones, my keys and left.

The store was ten minutes walk away from my apartment. I was taking my time wandering through the aisles, it’s not like I had anything to do at home. Passing by the cereals I saw a familiar face. I wasn’t sure if I should go and greet him or not, as we have only met once, but he saw me anyway.

“(Y/N)” Luffy greeted me with a smile, taking his headphones off and I did the same.

“Hey Luffy, nice to see you again.” I smiled at him.

“Yeah, nice to see you as well. How are you?” He asked me.

“I’m good, a little tired from uni, but good.” I chuckled. “How about you?”

“Same.” He shrugged. “Going over to my brother Ace to play some games but stop to buy some snacks.” My body got goosebumps when he mentioned his brother’s name. I looked at the basket in his hands and it was overfloating with snacks.

“Damn, that’s a lot of snacks, are you throwing a party?” I joked.

“Nah, just us two but we eat for like ten people.” We both laughed at his joke. I took a better look at Luffy and noticed how much he and Ace look alike.

“Well, he better lives close by, so you don’t need to carry all of this.” I casually said, but I was curious if by any chance we might end up being neighbours.

“Oh, I wish Ace lived this close by but no, I will have to catch the metro to get to his place.”

“What are you doing in this part of town then?” I asked.

“I live here, my place is exactly next to the supermarket.”

“Nice, we are almost neighbours.” I exclaimed.

“Cool.” Luffy smiled. “By the way, did Usopp told you about the party this Friday?” He got excited mentioning the party.

“Yeah, he did today, but I’m not sure if I will come.” I awkwardly smiled at him.

“What? Why? No!” He was not happy with my answer. “What do you mean, you are not sure if you should come? You are coming! You, see? Easy, peasy.” He bumped his fist on my shoulder, a grin spread across his face.

“As I said to Usopp – I will think about it.” I mocked his gestured.

“Ouch, you are strong.” Luffy massaged his shoulder, pretending to be hurt. “But come on, there isn’t much to think of it, plus if you really don’t like it, you can leave any time you want.” This was the second time we meet, but talking with him felt so natural – his friendly and carefree persona could make everyone feel safe and relaxed around him.

“We will see, Luffy.” He rolled his eyes at my response with a smile. “Well, I’m not gonna bother you any longer, as you have to go to your brother.”

“You are not bothering me at all, but yes I have to get going, as he has been waiting for me for at least two hours know.” He said it so casually like it was something that happens frequently. “But before you go, give me your Insta or something, we are practically neighbours, so we can go on a walk or hang out around someday.” He handed me his phone to put my Instagram on it.

“Of course, we should definitely do this.” I quickly typed my Instagram and followed myself. “Here you go.” I handed the phone back to him.

“Nice, see you around then.” He smiled at me one more time before he went away. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to accept his request and followed him back.

********

The doorbell rang like crazy; someone was playing with the bell on purpose to annoy Ace. Ace paused the game he was playing and got up to open the front door of his flat.

“Luffy.” He yelled at his brother, pulling him inside as he locked Luffy’s head between his arm and body and started to ruffle his hair. No matter how old Luffy gets in Ace’s eyes he will always remains his little brother, for whom he has unconditional love.

“Uh Ace, stop that.” Luffy tried to escape his brother’s death grip, only to drop the bags he was caring on the ground. “Stop it, I’m not a kid anymore.” He protested, poking on his brother’s side making him release his grip.

“Yes, you are.” Ace bumped Luffy’s shoulder laughing at his reaction. Ace picked up the bags, from the floor to leave them on the kitchen counter. “What took you so long again?” He shouted from the kitchen, while Luffy was taking his shoes off.

“Nothing.” Luffy went straight to the living room, sitting on the sofa and grabbing one of the controllers. “I went to buy snacks and then I saw (Y/N), and we chitchat for a bit.”

“(Y/N)? Shanks’ niece?” Ace sat next to him, grabbing his own controller. Luffy nodded in response. “You know her?” His curiosity piqued. Until that night he didn’t even know that Shanks has a niece. Ace glanced at his brother who had his eyes focused entirely on the new game they started.

“Nah, I met her last Friday, when you were playing.” Luffy casually answered.

“Did you know that Shanks has a niece?” Ace asked; knowing that his brother won’t get suspicious at all at such question.

“Yeah, I was aware of that, but I had never met her before. She is also Nami and Usopp’s classma- YES!” Luffy yelled as he won the round. “She is cute, tho.” This caught Ace by surprise.

“Oh, is she?” His whole attention now on his brother. “Having a crush, hu?” The tone in his voice slightly changed. Luffy glanced at Ace for a second, shaking his head.

“Hell, no! Not like that cute” He exclaimed loudly. “I’m not crossing that line, there.” He shook his head in fear. “I don’t know which would be scarier – Nami killing me for hitting on her friend or Shanks breaking my neck if it even crosses my mind.” Ace just snorted at his brother’s reaction; even thought he remembered the way Shanks eyes warned him in the club when he interrupted their conversation. Not like it was going to stop him, but he did get the warning.

“I invited her to the Halloween party, by the way.” Luffy added, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Is she coming?” Ace attention taken away from the game when Luffy blurted that you were invited.

“She said that she is not sure, yet. But knowing Nami she won’t have much of a choice and she will come.” Luffy chuckled, thinking of Nami and how insistent she could be if she wants too. Ace smiled to himself. “What you smilin’ at?” Luffy interrupted his thoughts.

“At the fact that I’m beating your ass in this game.” Ace quickly lied; his attention directed fully on the screen now.

“Beating my ass? You haven’t won a single round since I came here.” He bumped Ace’s shoulder.

“No, I just let you win.” Ace laughed.

********

I got home and prepared myself a quick meal. I sat down to eat while scrolling on my phone. I saw that Luffy has posted a story and clicked on it – a picture of a TV screen with a game on it with a caption ‘Beat his ass’ and under it he had mentioned Ace’s profile. I paused the story for a second, before clicking on the mentioned button. Ace’s profile was public, and I stalked him for a little bit. He didn’t have much posted – four main posts and some highlights. He didn’t really had pictures of himself alone. His main posts were two pictures with him and his brothers, one from some music festival he had been too, and the fourth one was a picture of their EP album’s cover. His highlights were mostly of the band making music. The profile picture he had was nice – a black and white photo with his right-side profile, a hat was hanging on the back of his bare shoulders revealing his messy black hair and the red beams neckless around his neck. He was handsome to look at. A little blush appeared on my cheeks as I started to think about him again. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I saw Nami’s name on the screen and I swiped to answer her.

“Hell-“

“Give me one good enough reason of why you don’t want to come to the party.” She wasted no time getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, (Y/N) hello to you as well, how are you doing?” I mocked her.

“Come on, you know why I’m calling.” She shushed me. “Please, come to the party it will be fun, I promise” At this point I started to get a deja-vu. She was the third person today who told me the exact same thing.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“So do I, we can go tomorrow after classes to search for something, we can even match.” She excitedly said.

“I don’t know Nami...why don’t you ask Vivi? You can match with her instead.”

“If I wanted to match with Vivi, I was going to speak with her now – not with you.” Nami responded to me sarcastically, and I could tell she probably rolled her eyes.

“Can’t I have some time to think about it fir-?”

“No!” She cut me off fast. “Because we don’t have much time to come up with the costumes.”

“We have like four days until Friday.” I groaned. This was starting to get annoying.

“Three.” She corrected me. “On top of it we have to think what we should match as and al-“

“Fine, fine – you know what fine.” I interrupted her. “I’m coming just so I don’t have to have this conversation again.” I sighed defeatedly. I removed the phone from my ear as Nami loudly squealed.

“I knew that you would say ‘yes’.” She mocked me, knowing that I got pissed at her.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

“Think of ideas for matching costumes so tomorrow after class we can go shopping.” She told me before ending the conversation.

I sighed looking back at my phone screen, still on Ace’s Instagram profile. A tingling feeling boiled up inside of me, knowing that we will probably see each other at the party. I left my plate in the sink and went to lay in bed. ‘Maybe going to the party will be fun after all.’ I thought to myself, a little smile on my face. My phone rang one more time, my dad’s picture popping up on the screen requesting to facetime me.

“How is my little girl doing?” His cheerful, loud as aways, voice filled up the room.

“Dad why is your hair blue again; I thought you outgrew your Emo period?” I mocked him. He got into colouring his hair a few years ago, and sometimes the colours were outrageous.

“To represent my sadness and sorrow, as my precious daughter haven’t called her dad for almost two weeks now.” He faked a cry. I playfully rolled my eyes at his little act.

“I’m sorry, I was just busy.” I did feel bad that I haven’t called him in such a long time. “How are you? I saw on your profile that you have sold out all the shows till the rest of the year.” A big grin on his face appeared as I mentioned this.

“Yes, can you believe it? Your old man is a star.” He raised his chin acting like a royalty.

“My old man is a diva, not a star.” I joked with him. “I’m proud of you dad, there is no better comedian than you.” I told him, as both my eyes and tone were filled up with love.

“Oh, baby girl – my biggest achievement is being your dad.” I could see his eyes tearing a little bit. I have always known that it was not easy at all for him to raised me alone, but I will forever be grateful for it. “Enough for me, now tell me; how is school going, any guy catching your eye?” He teased me.

“No, school is great, and no guy has caught my eye.” I lied, but the small smile and blush on my cheeks gave me away.

“Lier, lier, pants on fire.” He called out my little lie. “There is someone. Is it just a crush or something serious?” He wiggled his eyebrows to which I giggled.

“It’s nothing dad.” I tried to brush it off, as my face was burning hot.

“If it’s nothing then why blushing like that?” He mocked me. “Tell Buggy – who got his little girl heart swept away?”

“It’s really nothing, just some guy I met only once and we talked for like ten minutes at best, so it’s nothing.” It was nothing actually, Ace and I have barely spoken, I was just attracted to his charm, that is all – I thought to myself.

“Is he from your class?” Dad curiously asked me.

“No, he is not. But it turned out that he is a friend of my friends.”

“So, what now? Are you in a contact with him?” Growing up I didn’t have many friends, as I was quite a shy kid, but my dad was always there – till this day he was my best friend and I’ve always known that my secrets were safe with him. Talking about boys with him was nothing new, but still, this was the first time that I really felt awkward about it.

“No, but there is this party on Friday that he and his brothers are throwing, and I got invited.” I got flushed again.

“Did he invite you? Are you going?” He started to throw question after a question at me.

“No, his brother who is Nami and Usopp’s best friend told them to invite me, and they were not taking a ‘no’ for an answer, so – yes, I’m going.”

“Is he going to be there?” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing me.

“I hope so, yes.” I muttered.

“How did you meet?”

“The first time we met was at this coffee shop that I’ve told you about. I forgot my charger and saw that he had the same laptop as mine and I went to ask him if I can borrow it. Then he came and sat down with me, and we spoke for a little bit and then – omg dad you won’t believe it, he immediately got my ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ reference.” I excitedly said my eyes filled with sparkles, my dad smiling at my reaction. “And then the same night I was working at Shanks’ bar, and he was performing there, as he has his own band and they are so good by the way, and he is such a good singer, and yeah we met again, and we started to chitchat, but Shanks came and destroy everything as always.” I didn’t realise that I was blabbing. “So yeah, it’s nothing as I said.” I brushed it off.

“Baby girl.” He chuckled. “It is not nothing. You obviously have a crush on the guy.”

“No, dad I don’t. How could I? We have barely talked; he is just good looking and I’m bad at reading guys, you know this.” I shook my head, disagreeing with what he was saying.

“We are all attracted by looks first.” He scolded me. “But sometimes we don’t need much to like someone, especially with the enthusiasm you were telling me your little story it does sounds and looks like you have a crush on the guy – so go get him!” He encouraged me.

“Dad, you know as a father, you should be grumpy and unencouraging when your daughter has a crush not the opposite.” I chuckled.

“Ahaa you see you do have a crush on the guy.” He mocked me. “And when have I been like the other dads?” He asked me seriously. “Plus, I want to see you happy, baby girl.” His voice filled with love. “And also, when you were little, you promised me no boyfriends until you were sixteen, you are five years behind schedule – as much as I’m glad about this I think it’s time for you to experience love.” Even thought he was joking; I felt the hint of honestly behind his words.

“I’m doing pretty good on my own. I don’t need a boyfriend.” I pause for a second. “Plus, he is surrounded by girls, I told you he is the vocalist in their band, so I’m just you know...” I shrugged. “One of the many.” This was something I was trying to ignore thinking about. I was not blind or stupid – I saw how many girls went and hit on him and his bandmates after the show.

“Every man who chose another girl over you, my precious girl, will be the biggest fool the world will ever know.” He has always found ways to melt my heart.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too darling. Take care of yourself. Next time we speak you better have some update on your crush.” He pointed his finger at the camera.

“Yeah, sure dad. Bye.” I waved at him and ended the conversation.

I looked at the time and it was already 10:47PM, so I decided to get ready to sleep. I brushed my teeth and put some oversized t-shirt on and got into bed. Today was a very tiring day.

*******

The next day only – Nami, Usopp and I showed up from our group in university.

“Well, at least is the three of us.” I said as we were looking for the equipment we were going to use for the project.

“True, we don’t need anyone else.” Usopp agreed with me picking up a few microphones that we were going to need to record the sounds.

“Please repeat – so we are going to record some sounds from outside, and then the rest of the sounds that we will need, we record in the sound room?” Nami asked again, as she was still confused of what our plan exactly was.

“Exactly.” Usopp and I responded at the same time.

“Okay, do we have everything?” She asked as we looked around to see if we were missing something.

“No, I think we are good to go.” I replied taking one last look around the equipment room before we left.

We went to the park that was close by our university. Walking around, looking for an aera where there weren’t a lot of people around, took us some time. After thirty minutes we finally found a place.

“Okay so...” I clapped my hands getting their attention as they were carefully putting the equipment on the ground. “I will do the sound recording, one of you will need to do the sounds we need for it and the other just can just chill.” I quickly explained.

“I can do the sounds. Nami can rest.” Usopp said.

“Perfect. Help me just connect the mic to the boom pole.” I asked Nami for her help. We quickly fix the microphone and connected it to the audio recorder. “Say something.” I put the headphones on and started to adjust the sound and the frequencies. Nami started to talk to the microphone until I was satisfied with it.

“Okay, nice we are ready to start. Usopp please stand where the big pile of leaves is.” Usopp nodded at me and went to stand where I told him to. I went and crouched a little next to him. “I want you to start stepping heavy on the leaves first.” I instructed him. “Nami, do you want to call the slates?” I asked her with a smile, knowing how much she loves to do this.

“Of course I want.” She came closer to us and crouched to the microphone. “Quiet on set please! Sound?”

“Rolling.” I said.

“Scene one, take one – Action!” Nami said and Usopp started to step on the leaves as I’ve told him to. It took us an hour to record everything we needed. From the of sound the leaves to the sound of some birds flying by.

“That was fast.” Nami exclaimed.

“Of course, with a professional actor like me you didn’t even need more than two takes.” Usopp patted himself on the shoulders, for the job he had done. We laughed at him and his cockiness.

“Before we go let’s record one take of you screaming here, as in the sound room it will be way too clean.” I stopped them from putting the equipment back. “I just want to have a record from here, just in case.” They both agreed with me.

I held the microphone up close to Usopp face ready to record. He was about to scream but Nami stopped us.

“Wait, I want to take video of this, I have a feeling I will regret it if I don’t.” She pulled her phone up and gave us the thumbs up to start recording. I nodded to Usopp to scream whenever he felt ready. I jumped out of surprise of how loud Usopp screamed and dropped for a second the boom pole, hitting him on the nose with the microphone, before I was able to catch it. I removed the headphones from my head as my ears hurt from the volume of the scream. Nami couldn’t stop laughing hysterically.

“Usopp, are you okay?” I placed my hand on hid shoulder as he was holding his nose.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay, what happened?” He looked at me confused.

“The headphones were on a full volume, and I didn’t realise it, and then you screamed so loud, I got startled, and the volume hurt my ears.” I explained. “I’m so, so sorry.” I apologised, feeling so bad that he was got hurt.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” He patted me on the shoulder reassuring me that everything was okay.

“Guys, guys.” Nami shouted running toward us. “Please, look at the video.” She couldn’t stop laughing. We looked at her phone and she pressed play. The video was hilarious – from the moment I almost dropped the microphone and my reaction, to the moment where it hit Usopp and he grabbed his nose. Even if we were planning to stage it wouldn’t have turned out this good and all three of us burst out laughing.

“This is hilarious.” Usopp fell to the ground holding his stomach unable to stop laughing.

“I’m posting this, I’m sorry guys but this has to be posted.” Nami opened her Instagram and posted the video on her story tagging Usopp and me. After we calmed down a little, we tried once again to record the scream, but this time without any headphones. We officially wrapped and went back to university.

******

“And it’s a wrap!” Nami announced once we were done recording in the sound room.

“I can’t believe we manage to do it in one day.” I was amazed by how fast we were moving on the project so far. “If we manage to edit it tomorrow, we will be free on Thursday, and just need to come on Friday morning for evaluations.”

“And then we go to party.” Usopp started to dance on his chair. “I can’t wait, you will never guess what Kaya and I are going to be dressed as.” He smirked at Nami and me.

“Like what? Super Mario and Princess Peach?” Nami raised her eyebrow.

“No, you wanna guess (Y/N)?” He spined on chair facing me.

“I-I don’t know. Barbie and Ken?” He shook his head ‘no’ at my guess. “Then?”

“Metro Boomin and Future.” He threw some gang signs at us, while Nami and I looked at each and burst out laughing.

“What? Why? How?” I was speechless. “How did you even come up with this?” I needed to know what born this idea in their minds.

“Was it your idea Usopp? Oh, poor Kaya.” Nami huffed.

“Um, ladies – to your surprise it was not an idea that my mind came up with it, it was Kaya’s.” He raised his hands in the air like someone was pointing a gun toward him.

“I’m repeating (Y/N)’s question – how?” Nami asked him, we were both still in shock.

“She saw something in TikTok, some girl dressed as Future, and she sent it to me and said that she wants to be him for this Halloween, so I was okay I will be Metro then.” Nami and I looked at each other still a little confused then back at Usopp. “Why are you looking at me like this? At least our idea is original – who many other couples you know that will go as them?” He mocked us.

“Well, here you have a point.” I agreed with him. “You will definitely win most original couple costume of the night.” I mocked him.

“What are you two going to be? Do you plan to match?” He asked us.

“Well, we haven’t decided, yet.” I said.

“Something sexy for sure.” Nami winked, a smug smirk growing on her face. I looked at her knowing that she has had already something in mind.

“Oh no. You’ve already come up with something.” I was scared to ask what it was, as I had this feeling that I won’t like it.

“How about a dark and a light angle?” She suggested, looking at me expecting my reaction.

“Yeah...but no.” I shook my head not being very found of the idea.

“Why not?” She was surprised by my answer.

“It’s too basic, there will be at least four other girls dress the exact same way.” Last thing I wanted for Halloween was to wear a boring costume.

“Do you have anything better than that then?” I could see that she agreed with me on this.

“Actually, yeah. But I’m not sure if you gonna be down for it.” I smirked knowing that my idea was way better than hers. I took a dramatic pause before I tell her. “Donkey and Puss from Shrek, bam.”

“That is actually a super cool idea.” Usopp nodded at me, clearing liking my idea.

“As long as you are Donkey.” Nami pointed her finger at me, I laughed knowing that if she agreed I would have to be Donkey.

“Sure, I will be Donkey.”

“A sexy Donkey.” She winked at me, and I rolled my eyes at her.

We sat for a little bit more and chitchat while waiting for the recordings to save on my hard drive. Nami was on her phone and suddenly she burst out laughing. Usopp and I turned our heads towards her wondering what caused her outburst.

“Luffy just replied to my story.” She continued to laugh, holding her stomach. “He-he said ‘Usopp did a nice catch with the nose, Ace and I can’t stop laughing.” Usopp and I started to laugh, until Nami mentioned Ace’s name. I cringed thinking about him seeing my face and rection. The computer made a sound that the files were transferred so I fixed that while Nami and Usopp were texting Luffy.

“Okay, guys it’s all done now. We can go.” I told them, as I started to put my stuffs in my bag. “What time should we come tomorrow?”

“I say around 10AM.” Usopp suggested, and I nodded. They grabbed their bags, and we left.

*******

The rest of the days went by fast. Wednesday before I met with Nami and Usopp I stopped by my favourite coffee shop, part of me was expecting to see Ace there, but I didn’t. Today I gave it another try but it was the same as on Wednesday.

After we finished with our evaluations for the project, a few classmates asked me if I was coming to the Halloween party tonight, but I told them that for now I was not sure if I will be able to make it. They told me to come, as it would be fun, but I couldn’t make any promises.

“Why don’t we go for a little bit to the party they are throwing here in uni?” I suggested to Nami, as we were going to her place to get ready for tonight.

“Because we are going to a better one.” She scoffed.

“Come on, let’s go for just one drink and then we go straight to Luffy’s, please.” I nagged her, as I really wanted to go and hang up with our classmates for a bit.

“Okay, but only one drink.” She muttered. I squeaked happily and hugged her.

******

“Damn, we look good.” Nami exclaimed as we were checking ourselves in the mirror in her bedroom.

I was wearing a grey mini skirt with a silver corset on top, which Nami tighten a little bit too much, with a pair of black boots. I let my hair down as I was wearing a donkey ears on top of my head. Nami was dressed in light brown mini skirt with an orange corset on top and brown boots. On top of her long ginger hair, that was falling freely on her back, she had put cat ears. We took some pictures before heading to the party at university first. A lot of our classmates were already there when we arrived. I started to chitchat with some of them, as Nami went to get us something to drink. She came back giving me a can of beer.

“Sadly, beer is all I could find. We were supposed to bring our own booze.” She huffed, I could see that she was already eager to leave.

“Come on, at least fake it for me that you enjoy it.” I nagged her. She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Who gave you this by the way?” I took a sip of the beer.

“Some guy from year two.”

“Didn’t you take for yourself?” I was surprised, usually she never turns down things given to her for free.

“Nah, you know I’m not a fan of beer. But I will look around and see if someone has something stronger.” She patted me on the shoulder and left.

I continued to speak and laughed with some of the people from our class. We took some pictures and started to play some card game that took me some time to understand. I was having a lot of fun at the party here. Soon I finished my drink, and someone offered me another one, but I kindly denied their offer. I excused myself and went to look for Nami. She was sitting on one of the couches in school, talking with some girls from the second year; I got close to them and interrupted their conversation.

“Sorry for interrupting girls.” I apologised to them. “Nami, you want to go or stay a little longer?”

“Are you kidding me – let’s go.” She quickly got up and waved goodbye to the girls.

As we were walking to the metro station, I realised I have no idea where we were going.

“By the way I forgot to ask you, who’s house are we going to?” I was shaking a little bit because of the cold weather. I took a very tin jacket with me which wasn’t keeping me warm at all, on top of it my legs were bare.

“Deuce’s place. They usually throw parties at his house, as he is the only one who owns one.” She explained, and then looked at me. “Are you cold? You are shivering like crazy.” Her eyes were filled with concern.

“Yea, I’m freezing. I should have taken a long coat like you.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivers running all over my body.

“Oh, come here.” She pulled me to the side of her body wrapping me in her arms trying to warm me up a little. “You are going to get warm once we get to the party.” She winked at me.

******

We finally reached the metro station and caught the metro. Twenty minutes later we were in front of Deuce’s house. The music coming from it could be heard from miles away. Getting closer I noticed that there were quite lot of people. Some of them greeted Nami as we were walking toward the entrance. Once we stepped inside everything looked crazy. Whoever took care of the decoration did a very good job. The place was a two-storey house. The hallway was leading to a very spacious living room on the left side, and the kitchen was right at the end of it. On the right side of the entrance was the staircase to the second floor. We looked around until we could find someone familiar.

“I will check the kitchen; you check the living room.” Nami yelled in my ear as the music was way too loud. I was going to protest and tell her to not leave me alone, but she quickly disappeared. ‘Great’ I thought to myself. I took my jacket off and hung it by the door, where it was already formed a big pile of jackets. I took a deep breath and started to walk towards the living room. Looking around searching for someone familiar, I was also carefully checking if anyone by any chance might be Ace. I felt like a lost deer in the middle of the living room. Someone bumped into me and didn’t even apologise.

“Ass.” I called out after him, but he didn’t pay me any attention.

I looked around once more until my eyes landed on the couch. There were two guys sitting on it dressed the same – black pants, tight black shirts defining their muscular bodies with Ghostface masks on. On both of their sided were sitting two girls. The one on the right side had his arm wrapped around the girl who was sitting with her legs on his lap, his other hand on the couch. While the guy siting on the left side had a guitar on his lab and the girl sitting next to him leaned on his shoulders. The two girls were dressed as a dark and a light angle, and I made a mental note to myself tell Nami – ‘I told you’. I was about to turn around when the guy holding the guitar caught my attention. It wasn’t him but the tattoos on his arms that did it, they looked oddly familiar. Then it hit me – I recognised the tattoos, this must be Law, the guy from Ace’s band. I took look at the guy next to him dressed exact same, wondering who it might be. The girl sitting on his lap turned her head towards my direction and so did the guy. I quickly looked away realising that I was staring at them. I tried to make my way around until I saw a familiar green buzz cut.

“Zoro.” I yelled trying to catch his attention. Surprisingly, he heard me and turn around.

“Yo, wat’s up?” He greeted me, as he pulled me for a hug with his left arm. “Are you a donkey?” He eyed my costume.

“Yeah, Donkey from Shrek.” I grabbed my ears and moved them playfully. “Do you like it?” I spined around so he could take a better look.

“Ye, sure. You look nice for a donkey.” He nodded at me, his tone cool and unbothered as always.

“What are you dressed as?” I ran my eyes on his costume.

“Guess.” He challenged me.

“Hmm...” I took a better look at his costume until I noticed the symbol on his yukata. “No way, you are dressed as a samurai from old Wano.” He chuckled at me and nodded. His costume was amazing. “How did you come up with it?”

“You know, I’m into marshal arts, and I have some roots from Wano. So... yea, I decided to pay a little tribute to my roots this year.” He was quick and short with his explanations.

“Where are the re-“ I didn’t finish my question as I heard someone behind me.

“There you are.” Usopp shouted, pulling me for a hug.

“Metro, make it boom.” I shouted at Usopp checking him out. “Damn, Usopp you look good tonight, I think you should dress like this more often.” He was dressed exactly like Metro Boomin from his lates album cover – black suit and white shirt, the white bandana wrapped around his forehead, his hair braided and as a last touch he even wore the exact same sunglasses as him. “Where is Future?” I joked, looking around for Kaya.

“Future is in the kitchen doing shots with Nami and sent me to get you there.” He nodded at us to follow him. Before we leave the living room, I took a glance towards the couch. It was only Law sitting on it with the girl from earlier. His mask was lifted now, and I could easily see his face. He and the girl were too busy making out with each other. Part of me was wondering if the other guy might be Ace. But then this unpleasant feeling bubbled inside of me when I remembered the girl sitting on his lap and the way his arm was wrapped around her. I tried to shake the feeling away and focus on my friends instead. After all it might not be him.

As we entered the kitchen, I quickly spotted Nami and Kaya. Kaya looked at us and waved her hand. She pulled me in a tight hug once we were next to them.

“(Y/N), I’m so happy to see you.” By the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was already tipsy. Her usual shy persona was long gone.

“Me too, Future. Nice drip.” I complimented her, as her look like Future turned out pretty good. She was wearing this long thick faux fur coat, her eyes hidden behind round sunglasses, and her neck was covered in so many silver and sparkling chains – she did an amazing job recreating his look as well.

“Wake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water.” She started to rap his verse from Low Life and we all started to laughed as she started to throw gangster signs at Usopp and screaming in his face ‘If she catch me cheating, I won't ever tell her, "sorry"’. Usopp was looking at her in disbelief as we couldn’t contain our laughter. If someone told me earlier today that I would witness drunk Kaya rapping at her boyfriend how she would cheat on him while throwing gangster signs I would have never believe it.

“This is what I get for being a good boyfriend.” He grabbed her face and shushed her with a kiss. In her drunken state she wasted no time to deepening their kiss.

“Get a room, you two.” Someone cheerfully yelled at them, we all turned our heads to see Luffy’s big grin as he joined our circle. He was dressed as Spiderman. His skinny but muscular body was fitting the costume very good, he could play a real life Spirdeman man if he wanted to. The only missing part of his costume was the mask.

“What took you so long guys?” He asked Nami and me, as he pulled us for a hug. “You two look great by the way.” He complimented us. “What are you a donkey and what? A cat demon from hell?” He poked Nami on the sides messing with her.

“Luffy.” Nami whined. “I’m Puss from Shrek, and (Y/N) is the Donkey.” She explained to him.

“Wow, nice. I like this.” He gave us the thumbs up. “(Y/N), you look too sober, let’s get you drunk. Nami you too.” He poured up three glasses with rum and coke, then before he handed them to us, he filled all the way up six shot glasses with vodka. “Everyone, grab a shot of vodka.” He shouted, as he raised one of the shot glasses in the air. “Let’s make this night memorable.” We all cheered and took the shots in one sip. The strong taste of the vodka was burning my insides as my whole body twitched from the feeling of it. Luffy handed Nami and me, the drinks he made for us and himself.

“Yo, Luffy we should roll one, now that everyone is here.” Zoro turned to Luffy.

“Hell yeah.” He shouted, agreeing with Zoro. “No wait, we are not all here. Where is Sanji? I swear I saw him.”

“Do we really need him?” Zoro snorted.

“He is upstairs.” Usopp said pointing at the ceiling.

“What is he doing upstairs? Someone goes get him.” Luffy said not getting the hint.

“He is banging some chick Luffy.” Nami clarified for him. Luffy’s eyes widen, and he grinned.

“Well, good for him. Get it Sanji” Luffy chuckled, and we all laughed. “Okay, Zoro come with me to find Sabo as I think he has some of the good one tonight.”

Nami made us four more shots, but Usopp told her to not give Kaya more, and that she needed some cold air, so they went outside for a bit.

“This is for us two then.” She handed me two shot glasses. “One after the other.” She warned me. I followed her orders without protesting and we quickly took the shots. We grabbed the rum and cola that Luffy made us and started to look around at the party. Some people were playing some card game, and we decided to join. They quickly explained the rules, which were simple, and we started to play with them. Nami rolled the dice first and it landed on blue, she took a blue card of the pile and read it out loud.

“Give this card to the person with the least bodies.” She looked around not knowing the people we were playing with. “Okay who here is virgin?” She asked and everyone laughed. “As I expected, okay who here has slept with more than one person.” They all laughed again as she was saying the funniest jokes on Earth. “Then, darling, this card belongs to you.” She handed me the card and I rolled my eyes at her. It was my turn now. I rolled the dice, and it landed on pink. It was dare.

“Take off your shirt or drink three shots.” I shook my head. “I’m taking the shots.” Some of the guys booed me, but I ignored them. Someone brought me three shot glasses full of some pink liquor. “It’s watermelon sour shot, they are harmless don’t worry.” The girl who handed me the shots reassured me. I thanked her and drank the shots. She was right they were rather sweet than bitter. We continue to play a few more rounds with them until Nami nodded me to move somewhere else. I could feel that I was getting tipsy. I got a hold of her hand and stopped her for a second.

“Nami, do you know where the toilet is, I really need to pee.” I asked her as I was holding it for a quite some time now.

“Yea, it’s upstairs. But please, hold it for a second so we can drink two more shots.” She dragged me with her to some table full of shots. She handed me two again.

“What is it in it?” I asked as I had no idea what I was holding. Nami lift it to her nose and smelled it.

“Oh, it’s Jägermeister – now chuck.” She already drank hers before I even lifted mine. I scrunched my nose at the smell of it – not being a fan of Jägermeister, but still drank it. I saw her pulling her phone texting someone. “Okay, everyone is at the backyard ready to smoke, let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me after her.

“No, Nami, wait.” I stopped her. “I need to go pee; you go outside I will find you.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you?”

“No, just go. I will be fine.” I waved at her making my way upstairs. As I was going up the stairs, I could feel that those two last shots were bad idea. I got to the second floor and there I was met with four doors, and I didn’t know which one was the toilet. I opened the first one on the right and it was just a small storage room. I tried with the second door on the right and when I opened it, I froze on the spot. The room was dark, but because of the open door some light got in and there was one of the guys with the Ghostface mask with one of the girls. One of his hands was wrapped around her throat choking her, while the other was pulling her hair. He was so focused on fucking her from behind that he didn’t realise what was going on until she screamed. The guy looked up and stopped immediately. I realised what just happened and quickly closed the door. I tried opening the first door on the left and finally it was the toilet. My heart was going to explode in my chest. Because of the dim light I couldn’t see who it was. ‘Did I just walk on Law having sex? Or it was the other masked dude?’ I thought to myself. I looked at myself it the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged at this point and my hair was messy, I sighed at the look of myself. I quickly peed and washed my hands. I was a little scared to go out of the bathroom, what if the guy got mad and he was looking to kill me know?

“I watch too many movies” I murmured to myself. I opened the door and there was no one. I quickly ran down the stairs which wasn’t a good idea as I almost tripped and fell but I got a hold of myself on the railing. I hit my knee in it and I hissed from the pain, hoping no one saw that. I stopped in the middle of the hallway as everything was spinning around me, the alcohol finally kicking in. It felt like there are more and more people in the house since we came, as if it was possible. I didn’t know which way the backyard was, and I felt a little lost. As I was looking around trying to focus my sight, I felt someone gently putting their hands on my shoulders.

“Are you lost, doll?” Someone whispered in my ear. Shivers ran down my spine. I turned around quickly to face the person behind me. It was the Ghostface masked guy. I stepped back, as I wasn’t sure if he was the one I caught upstairs just a few minutes ago. What if he got mad at me? He was quite taller than me, I was faced with him muscular chest. The tight shirt on him defining every inch of muscles he had on his body. I looked at his hands searching for tattoos but there were none, so it wasn’t Law, but why would Law call me doll in a first place? His arms were toned and veined and there was something on his left biceps. My eyes run up his left arm. On top of his left bicep was a tattoo, all I could of see was a crossed out ‘S’ and ‘E’. The guy was just looking at me with the mask on, without saying anything, like we were in one of the scenes in the movie ‘Scream’. I held my breath for a second, feeling intimidated but weirdly attracted by him. The alcohol gave me a big push of confidence, and I spoke first.

“You want to play a psycho killer?” I asked him the exact same thing the actress in the movie did, and he nodded just like the killer in the movie.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I tease him the same way the actress did, and he nodded again.

“No please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel” I flutter my eyelashes at him. He came a step closer to me, and just ran his finger across my neck, as he was slitting it. The feeling of his fingers felt like they left a path of fire on it. My breath got caught in my lungs and electricity ran all over my body. The guy took off his mask, and I was met with Ace’s messy hair and charming smile.

“Hey there, beautiful.” His were eyes half lidded, but there was something in the way he was looking at me. “Are you lost? I can always help to guide you.” His voice was smooth and raspy at the same time.

“Ace.” My eyes widen at the sight of him. My confidence left me, when he was standing so close to me. “I-I no, no, I’m not lost, but I’m looking for the backyard.” I cleared my throat trying to compose myself.

“Relax, you will be on the sequel.” He joked with me. “Come they are looking for you.” He nodded me to go with him, as he put his hand on my waist guiding me. This simple gestured caused my cheeks to become flaming hot. We made our way to the backyard, and everyone were there, even Sanji and Ace’s other brother – Sabo with his girlfriend.

“Did you fall in the toilet?” Nami asked me sarcastically.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” I responded to her.

“Sorry (Y/N), we smoked the joints before you come.” Luffy awkwardly scratched his neck. “Next round I’m rolling you one for yourself only.” He giggled and I could tell that he was quite high at this point.

“It’s okay, I’m way too tipsy anyway.” I waved him off with a smile. Everyone started to chitchat something among themselves. Zoro and Sanji were arguing about something while Luffy couldn’t stop laughing at them. Usopp was making sure that Kaya was on her feet, as she had drunk too much alcohol, and now on top of it she was high. Nami was speaking something with Koala, who was leaning on her boyfriend Sabo. My body shiver slightly as the night was getting colder, and the alcohol wasn’t helping, as I stared to feel more tired than in the mood for a party.

“Are you having fun?” Ace came closer to me.

“Uh, yea... just l-little tired that is all.” I awkwardly chuckled, shivers ran down my spine feeling him so close.

“Looks like you are freezing. Do you want to go inside?” His tone was gentle.

“No, I need some air. Plus, inside is way too loud.” I brushed off his offer. “I will be fine, don’t worry.” A slightly blushed bloomed on my cheeks. I looked away trying to hide it. Alcohol usually gives people confidence, not the opposite, but tonight it wasn’t helping me at all.

“But you are freezing, doll.” He remarked, looking at my shivering body. “Let’s go somewhere where you can have both some cold air and be warm at the same time.” He whispered in my ear.

“Where?” I slightly tilted my head looking him in the eyes as he had bend over a little to meet my gaze.

“Come.” He just nodded at me to follow him, and I did. I turned around to look at the rest of the group but only Sabo was looking at us with a smirk. I lowered my gaze to the ground, as the blushed deepened on my cheeks.

******

Going back inside the house Ace got stopped a few times by some people greeting him. Some of them were girls, and the looks they sent my way weren’t very friendly. As we were going up the stairs Ace stopped and looked over his shoulder at me and asked if I want something to drink. I told him that a glass of water would be perfect, as I was feeling super thirsty. He nodded at me and told me to wait for him in the hallway upstairs. It didn’t take him long to come back. He handed me the glass of water and I thanked him. Ace started to walk to the second door on the right and as he was grabbing the doorknob to opened it, I stopped him.

“No, no, no. Do not open this door.” I still remember the scene from earlier when I caught the masked guy with the girl. Then it hit me like a truck – as I knew now that it was Ace and Law dressed the same, was it possible that I caught Ace there earlier. I looked at him a little suspicious as I let go of his hand. He raised his eyebrow at me, confused about what was going on.

“Why not?” He let go of the doorknob, turning all his attention to me.

“Well, y-you know w-why.” I avoided looking at him.

“No, doll I don’t.” He grabbed my chin with two of his fingers and making me look at him.

“I-I walked o-on someone... not l-long ago... h-having... y-you k-know...” His fingers were still holding my chin, but I avoided his gaze. He laughed at me for a second.

“Ah, don’t worry doll, if there is someone inside right now, they won’t be the first I’ve ever walked on.” Ace let go off my chin and opened the door. “Well, we are lucky there is no one in, come.” He got inside and waited for me to follow him. I hesitated for a moment but decided to trust him. The room was dark, but Ace quickly made his way to one of the corners and turned on the tall floor lamp positioned there. It was a bedroom. The walls were coloured in a cream beige nuance, some simple art paintings were hanged on them. The bed in the middle of the room was quite big, the sheets were wrinkled but still it wasn’t messy. The wall next to the bed had a big window door that were leading to a balcony. Ace closed the door behind me.

“You can sit or lay on the bed, and I will open the balcony doors.” He pushed the curtains and opened one of the doors. I sat on the side of the bed next to the opened door, and Ace sat next to me. I took a few sips of my water, my mouth dry and my mind was still quite foggy because of the alcohol. My heart was beating fast, as I realised that I was alone with Ace in the room. I saw him looking at me, and now on this dimed light I could take a better look at him. His cheeks were a little flushed, probably because of the alcohol, and his were eyes half lidded, but I couldn’t tell if he was high or not. His hair was messy because of the mask, at least I hoped it was because of it.

“Where is your company?” The question slipped out before I could even stop myself.

“What company?” He raised his eyebrow at my question.

“Y-you know that g-g-girl from earlier. D-did I w-walked o-n y-you?” I muttered, my eyes not moving from the water glass. “I-I mean, t-the g-guy w-was also wearing t-the s-same mask a-as y-you a-an...” Ace’s tongue-clucking interrupted me, and I locked at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he was shaking his head.

“Ouch, doll.” He tilted his head at me, a little smirk playing on his face. “I know we don’t really know each other, but don’t you think this would be kinda a big dick move? Like come on, fucking one girl and what, fifteen minutes later going to another one?” He snorted. I could feel that he was a little offended in the way his voice changed.

“Oh my God, no, no Ace I-I didn’t mean it like this, I-I’m extremely sorry.” I put the glass on top of the bedside table. “I-I swear I didn’t mean that, I-I thought i-if it w-was you, a-at least I can apologise for walking on y-you t-that’s all.” I babbled and didn’t realise that I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm by the shoulder.

“It’s okay, no offence was taken.” He brushed it off, his tone was cool. Being this close to him I noticed that he has freckles covering his face, especially his cheeks, which was adding a bit of cuteness to his otherwise very handsome face. I shivered again as the wind from outside filled up the room with cold air. I wrapped my arms around myself again.

“Let me close the door.” I wanted to protest, as the balcony door being open was giving me a sense of escape. It was making the atmosphere around us less intimidate.

“So, long time no see.” Ace sat back on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “You didn’t go for coffee this week?” He teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“I did actually, you just missed me.” A little smile forming on my lips.

“I will be a fool to missed you, doll.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes at his lame comment.

“So what? You were looking for me or something?” My confidence was coming slowly back, and he just laughed at me. He eyed me from head to toe.

“I’m surprised you didn’t dress as a fox.” He reached with his left arm and wiggled my donkey ears.

“I’ve already been a fox for Halloween, I don’t like repeating my costumes.” I felt myself relax and I laid my body on the bed. “At least my costume is not a lazy one.” I mocked him.

“Hey, what do you mean?” He turned his body on the side facing me, leaning his head on his left hand.

“You know.” I shrugged. “Ghostface mask? Really?” I couldn’t contain my giggle, as I continued to mock him. Ace rolled his eyes at me playfully.

“Shut up. I’m not into dressing up anyway, so I didn’t even care.”

“Boring.” I murmured, glancing at him playfully as well.

“Damn, doll you switch fast – just a seconds ago you were all shy on me, and now you are bulling me, tc-tc.” He licked his lips, looking at me amazed.

“I’m not bulling you; I’m criticizing you.” I corrected him, and we both burst out laughing.

“So, now that it’s just us two, let’s finished the conversation we were having last Friday before your uncle interrupted us.” Ace said. “Tell me – what are you into the most?” I thought for a second back to our conversation a week ago before I answered his question.

“Directing for sure. I love filming, but it’s different when you are the director.” I explained.

“What got you into film making?” He moved a little closer to me, but I didn’t mind it, as I started to feel calmer around him.

“Well, I can say I was a little influenced by my dad. Growing up, going with him to different studios and theatres, got me into loving the idea of creating something with a camera.” I smiled to myself, remembering the days when I was little, and dad would bring me to every movie or show he was recording, even if kids weren’t allowed, he never followed the rules. “I took a gap year before I decided what I want to do for sure, and then I found the program here and yes... this is how I end up studying filmmaking.” I moved my gaze to Ace, he was looking at me with a smile on his face, listening careful to what I was saying.

“Is your dad also a filmmaker?” He asked.

“Ha-ha, no, no.” I shook my head. “He likes to be in front of the camera unlike me and he is a comedian.”

“For real? Is he famous or something?” Ace raised his eyebrow curiously.

“Mhm...” I bit my lip, nodding my head. “Have you head of Buggy the Clown?”

“No way.” Ace’s eyes widen in surplice. “Your dad is Buggy the Clown?” I nodded a big grin spread across my face, being proud of Buggy being my father. “My brothers and I love him; your dad is amazing. Damn, so you are the daughter he tells all these crazy stories about.” He chuckled at me in disbelief.

“Yea, I’m the infamous daughter.” I giggled at his comment, my cheeks blushing a little.

“Damn... I feel starstruck now, can I have your autograph or something?” Ace teased me.

“Of course, you can where you want me to sign.” I teased him back, winking at him.

“Don’t tease me like that, doll.” He chuckled a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What about you? What got you into music?” My cheeks got flaming hot again and I quickly changed the subject, but also, I was really interested to hear his story behind how we discovered his talent.

“Let’s say I was a quite troubled kid, and as a punishment my aunt made me attend the school choir.” His face frowning a bit from embarrassment remembering the days back in the choir. “I hated it, you have no idea how much I hated attending it.” I let out a giggle at his expression. “Anyway, the teacher saw potential in me and spoke with my aunt to sign me for private lessons. She couldn’t afford that as she had to take care of Sabo and Luffy as well, but my teacher took me under her wing and, yeah..” He awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, that teacher wasn’t wrong.” I said, our gazes locking. Ace snorted at my comment, but he didn’t say anything.

“And how about the guitar? Did you take lessons, or you are self-taught?” I asked him, my voice came out almost as a whisper. Our gazes met and I couldn’t move mine from his dark brown eyes. I made a mental note to myself that I haven’t paid attention till now what a deep shade of brown they were, everyone could get lost in his beautiful eyes. His thin but as dark as his hair eyebrows were adding to his bold but handsome face.

“Law taught me when we became friends.” He spoke in a low tone as he moved a little strand of hair from my face. His fingers were surprisingly soft, even thought they were barely glazing the skin of my face. His touched felt like fire. My breath got caught in my lungs, as suddenly the room became so hot. Ace moved even closer to me, his fingers now playing with the strand of my hair. “Do you know that you have beautiful eyes, doll.” The way he said it as a statement and not a question made my heart skipped a beat. I just shocked my head, unable to say or do anything, as my body froze, but my eyes never left his. He licked his lips, eyes moving to my lips. I slightly opened my mouth, my hands gripping on the sheets under me, heart beating faster. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm myself down, and when I opened them, Ace cursed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He shook his head and sat up straight in the bed, looking at the ground. I followed him, looking at him confused.

“Ace?” My voice soft, coming out as a whisper. “A-are you okay? D-did I do something?” The energy in the room changed quickly. If a few seconds ago everything felt hot, like it was caught on fire, now it was the opposite, I could feel the cold wind from outside again.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He slightly tilted his head to look at me again. “Please, forgive me and forget about what happened just now.” His voice remained low.

“Nothing really happened.” I tried to reassure him with a smile. I reached with my hand to touch his shoulder, but he grabbed my hand midair and looked at me seriously.

“I mean it, doll. Forget about what just happened.” His tone was stern.

“Ace, I’m really confused right now, and it’s not because of the alcohol.” I was so confused, what gotten into him out of nowhere. “Nothing happened we are just a little drunk that is all.” I chuckled trying to lighten up the mood.

“Doll, you don’t get it.” He shook his head again, looking away.

“Then explain.” I snapped at him; even thought I didn’t mean to. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out so har-“

“I’m not the guy that sticks around, (Y/N).” Ace interrupted me. “So, let’s not cross any lines, nothing more than a friendship, okay?” He snapped back at me. I lower my gaze to the ground and nodded. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Believe me, doll... I’m making you a favour.” He got up from the bed and he left the room.

*******

I sat by myself for quite some time not being able to explain to myself what just happened between Ace and me. Did he just reject me? Did I do something to make him react that way? I wanted to go and find him and ask what was all that, but my self dignity didn’t let me. Why flirt with me and then reject me like this? My mind was running with questions. And what was it with all this “I’m doing you a favour.”? All I wanted at this point was to go home. I stand up from the bed and went downstairs, looking for my jacket. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so I cursed under my breath and left the place. I was partly hurt by his behaviour and also little offended. My phone had only five precent battery left, and the metro was closed so I had to walk all the way to my place. Just before my battery died, I texted Nami, a quick message that I left as I didn’t feel good. I was passing by some club when someone called after me.

“Hey, brat.” The voice sounded familiar, so I turned around and saw Kid. He came to me and gave me a look. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“None of your business Kid.” I cut him off, continuing my way, as at this point, I couldn’t feel my body as I was freezing to death.

“I can drive you home.” He said after me. I stopped and turned back to him.

“I don’t need your help.” I snapped at him.

“Sure, if you say so. Now come, stop being a brat.” He nodded me to follow him. His car was parked close by, so we didn’t walk long. The drive to my place was quiet.

“Kid, can I ask you something?” I broke the silence. He just looked at me waiting for my question. “As an asshole yourself.” I started not sure how to ask the question. “How can I tell if one is into me? Like... help me understand this.” I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace and what happened. Kid side-eyed me and sighed.

“If he is into you...” He glanced at me before continuing. “He will keep telling himself that he is doing you a favour by staying away from you but... he won’t be able to.” He parked in front of my place, his gazing not leaving the road in front of him. We stayed silenced for a minute, and I noticed that Kid was lost in his own thoughts.

“Thank you, Kid. You know when you want you – you can actually be very nice to hang around.” I told him before getting out of his car. “Thanks for the ride.” I said closing the door.

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crooked-wasteland · 2 days ago

Note

I genuinly want a hh/hb rewrite it would be peak

If I were to write the story from the ground up, I would have focused more on the idea that Heaven and Hell are unimportant. I actually liked the idea of people being sent to either one on arbitrary criteria that exists outside of morality, as I am a moral nihilist.

I would have focused the plot of Angel Dust on the idea that redemption is personal. You aren't seeking to be redeemed by others for them not being able to use you. The idea of owing others is debilitating psychologically. There are consequences to actions and people have a right to their feelings, but you don't owe others happiness or fulfillment. The only person who you should seek to redeem yourself to is yourself.

Psychologically speaking, expectation is the death of happiness. When one expects to receive a gift, they will be emotionally devastated when that expectation isn't met. Additionally, we as a generation (at least my fellow millennials) were raised to deflect negativity inward. What about us is wrong or failing to explain why others don't want to meet our expectations. It's a cycle of demoralization, low self esteem, identity crisis, imposter syndrome, and ultimately poor mental health.

As such, I would have framed Hell as Camus frames the universe: apathetic and uncaring to you, your happiness, your pain, your existence. And Angel Dust would have been my philosophical vehicle to how one would find happiness in the face of that. Because that is what Camus argues for in The Myth of Sisyphus.

We have to be comfortable being alone before we can have a healthy relationship with anyone else.

The best visualization of humanity, person to person, has to be in The Midnight Gospel where Clancy and his mother are visualized as planets. Whole worlds of their own that sustain themselves. And while he loses pieces of himself as she leaves him, engulfed in a black hole, he is still alive and is expected to move forward, for no one's benefit but his own. The idea that he is a planet shows how that expectation manifests. We have pieces of ourselves tied to others, but our ecosystem is self-regulated.

And Angel Dust as a character is the perfect example of someone who is incapable of being alone. He sold his soul to Valentino for some gold plated validation. The appearance of security, that someone else would take care of him for him. And when Valentino shows himself to be a bad actor, Angel Dust does nothing in the main series. He keeps the status quo, at most whining and complaining about how he does nothing, until he has some other person to chase.

The flaw of Angel Dust's character is his personal disregard for himself. His self destruction is a solid trait to focus on, but not validate. I would push Angel in finding happiness in the face of his choices. Learning to be proactive for himself in a way the show actually seems to devalue. Angel Dust is framed as a better person for allowing himself to be taken advantage of, but protecting his friends. But that sort of mentality is no different than him hoping someone will break him or save him to get him out of his choices.

It also leaves people who identify with Angel Dust waiting on a savior that will never come.

Slowing down the narrative and focusing heavily on characters and their wants vs needs is more important to me as someone in my 30s. I would imagine my audience being older teens to young adults who are just realizing that 18 isn't the end. You aren't going to wake up on your birthday and suddenly have it all figured out for another decade, but you are suddenly thrown into a world that has no concern for you. All your protections as children are stripped away, no one is looking out for you. Meanwhile, you have no idea who you are or how you fit into this circus called society.

Especially now with politics and the social climate we are in, I would treat it as a way of educating this demographic on how to care for themselves metaphysically through philosophy and psychology. Stripping the concepts of religion from the idea of a god, because he will never answer you. You will not be saved.

I would have probably designed my story around the idea of Steven Universe, but for adults. Bojack Horseman, but for people who don't understand the existential philosophy surrounding the plot.

And ultimately I think that is where Hazbin fell off at the starting line. It didn't have a concept of why it exists or for whom. It's a show for Vivienne Medrano that offers nothing for anyone watching. It wasn't designed for an audience, and any audience who felt it was is only providing validation to Medrano herself. It is a vapid empathy sink that only cashes back in Medrano's ego when storytelling has always been about more than just the author.

Mary Shelley writing about Frankenstein was one part a friendly competition to see who could write the most scary story. But it was another two parts of Shelley injecting questions of her soul:

Scientific study was on the rise and religion vs science was having a resurgence. For many people in her time, science was a means of replacing God. It isn't a coincidence that Frankenstein was written in 1816 and philosopher Frederick Nietzsche was born in 1844. He would have grown up alongside this work that has never fallen from popularity. The entire 19th century was marked by exponential scientific growth and philosophical recalibration.

As such, Shelley's work tackled many of the concepts philosophers would argue over in the coming two centuries. Especially so early in the era, Frankenstein explicitly tackled the idea "what if God was so horrified by his creation that he abandoned it?" It's why Frankenstein exists not just as science fiction, but existential horror.

I'm posting this picture again, because this will always matter, always be relevant, and always help when formulating a creative idea.

I apologize for not having a real rewrite, as I don't have much desire to think point by point how I would have done the show differently. Mainly because television requires some flexibility in where the story will go, but I have foundational rules and structural concepts as to what is important to tell or why this story exists.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse critique #spindlehorse critical #vivziepop critique #vivienne medrano #moral nihilism #expressivism

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lover-of-mine · 2 days ago

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Lady Whistledown.... Baby.. The dumpster is on fire!!!! Let's go to the upside down world because I don't know if we should laugh or cry.

First things first. I have never been able to accurately track what OG Buddies made their prominent burners on X and Insta. It was like June when Oliver started blocking them that they were created. And they just vanished. All gone. So much traffic and propaganda gone. Also some of them now pretending they want back on the Buddie train like they never trashed it.

Two. Huge conspiracy that this was all out of nowhere. I mean he mentioned Eddie on an anniversary date and sure this shit just fell out of the sky. But the election, the Buddies the all of it just became to much and Tim cut it prematurely.

Three. They have always hated Oliver but now it's worse. Lous words make it seem like poor him, he wanted the story. It was evil Oliver and his crush on Ryan that ended it all. He basically became a martyr to them.

Four.. they are going nowhere. Don't think you are getting a break. They hope it's the beginning of the rom com slow burn. Buck will realize he needs to fight to get Tommy back. Or just hate watching. Hating on all things Buddie and Ryan and Oliver.

Lastly everyone should just watch their in boxes. They have always false flagged and pretended to be "Buddies" to create chaos. It won't stop. It will be a long hiatus after next week.

But back on grass. Honestly it's the OG Buddies that switched ships that are the most pissed. They didn't even get an angsty break up. It was literally so boring. And they hate he called him Buck after they spent months making a big deal about Evan. It's like they think it was designed to wound them on purpose.

I will keep you posted if anything more interesting happens. I feel like it's going to be a long weekend.

Hello baby. This is... wow. I can't even say it's unexpected, because it is very expected. I actually watched a bunch of those accounts disappear. Turning on Oliver is literally the most obvious thing they could ever do, I literally read a post saying they wish the show had written off Oliver instead. The idea the show filmed different ending and the episode was edited because Trump won is literally the most insane thing I've seen coming from them and that's saying something. And honestly, I was bracing myself from them not to go anywhere anyway so. I did giggle when he called him Buck, I mean I was giggling the whole scene because green, but that was a highlight lol. The relationship ended as uneventful as it happened, and it was brought on by Abby of all thing AND highlighted the way Buck is very much still on the hamster wheel. Anyone who's been here before 704 caught on the way that was a repetition of patterns, I can only imagine how mad they are after jumping ship and creating all this chaos. Please do keep me posted, it's definitely gonna be an interesting weekend.

#911 #911 spoilers #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌#spy network #anti bucktommy #lady whistledown anon

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glisten-inthedark · 3 days ago

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Sorry if its too much to ask but im a mileven turning into a byler and i honestly doubt it happening, can you convince me or at least explain so i can understand

Hello, how are you doing?

Ok, so first things first. I won't try and convince you of anything because I genuinely do feel that shipping should be organic, but I'll provide textual evidence and comparisons you can use to guide you.

This got extremely long lmao.

Will Byers was always meant to be canonically homosexual

I think the most important point to start with is this. Will was always meant to be gay, and his queercoding was present from the start. His own father used the f- slur to talk about him, his bullies always attacked his sexuality and even Hopper assumed he was the victim of a hate crime.

So we know that from the very beginning, they wanted him to be gay but his sexuality was never treated as a joke. I think is important to note the difference between internal dialogue and external dialogue when it comes to writing or presenting an idea.

Mike and Will's relationship has been treated differently from the start

Let's assume they were always meant to be viewed as closer friends. This could possibly work if weren't for Dustin and Mike's conversation during season 1 where Mike explicitly tells him that he and Lucas are his best friends. So theoretically, there should be no difference in how their relationships are shown within canon.

It'd be one thing for the three boys to address that Mike and Will are different, is another thing for the story to show and tell us that.

And you might be asking yourself, how do they do that?

Firstly, they do it by singling Mike out. When Will's "body" was found, we see all of their reactions right? But the only person that snaps to someone he was being kind to up until that point is Mike.

Just him.

Lucas says: "It's really him" and Dustin appears to want to cry, but Mike is the one who snaps at El, who tells her she told him Will was alive, and then he asks "What is wrong with you?"

He's the only person we follow home, he's the only one we see breaking down in his mother's arms. He's the only person they really focus on, and this is where I need you to ask yourself why.

I won't give you an answer because I really want you to think about it, but if all these boys are best friends, if all of them collectively care about Will like we know they do, why was Mike singled out for his reaction?

Mike is also the only person, besides Will's own mother, who believes wholeheartedly he is alive. When questioned by Lucas about it, he claims he doesn't have an explanation for the body, but he just "knows" is not him.

Considering that not even Jonathan believed Will was alive - and we all know he loves his brother more than anything - I also ask you to ask yourself why that is.

Why did Mike seemingly "just know" Will was alive when the only person who had that same gut feeling was Will's mother, the person who gave birth to him? No one else did. Not Lucas, not Dustin, not Jonathan.

Just Mike and Joyce.

Again, if these boys have been friends for years at this point, why is Mike's belief system the one that diverges from the others? Why didn't he also keep assuming Will was dead until he heard his voice?

And if all of their friendships were meant to be seen as equal, why did the reveal of the walkie-talkie happen with just Mike there? I mean, all of them cared about Will, so why not have all of them there? Why not show them collectively reacting to it?

During season 2, we again see Mike being singled out when it comes to Will.

Again, Mike himself told Dustin they were all his best friends. That's what was said to us, so is not really about friendship, but rather about the intricacies of caring and of love.

In season 2, Mike says: "He's quiet today" and Lucas says: "He's always quiet" and Mike says something along the lines of "This feels different or this is different". Again, they are showing us that Mike appears to be more in tune with Will.

This proves to be the point whenever Will is having one of his visions and Mike is the one who pulls him out of them. When Will calls Mike during Halloween, Mike mysteriously shows up there almost as if he heard him call.

They also drew a very explicit parallel between Will and Mike and Nancy and Jonathan. When Nancy got through the mini portal, she started calling out to him and he pulled her back. When Will was in that vision state, he called Mike and Mike pulled him out of it.

And just a forewarning, I will make comparisons to Mike and El's relationship but I mean no disrespect to you or your ship. Is just how I perceive things but that doesn't mean you are less valid for seeing things differently and I'll try not to get into deep about how I feel about their relationship.

When El called Mike, he never heard her. He never felt her.

He thought he saw Eleven, but didn't go after her nor did he actively try and find her even when he kept trying to reach her in his walkie-talkie. He never dragged himself to the middle of the woods to find her, he never went against explicit orders from a police officer to go after her.

And then we have a scene that tells us exactly how Mike and Will met.

We face the same conundrum when Mike blows daggers at Dustin for trying to help Will and tells Will "he'd take him home" only to take him to his own house.

When Will explains to him what is happening, he tells him not to tell the others because they wouldn't understand and then he says he feels like he's going crazy and well Mike says they'll go crazy together. And the thing is, the writers could have easily thrown in something innocuous like: "No you're not going crazy", or "This feeling will pass" or not have Will say anything about going crazy at all. The scene would come off as way less romantic and it would still have worked.

And again, we know all of them care about each other, that they'd do anything for each other. But, Mike is the only one of them who is there.

He is standing there, watching his friend be in pain, and he tells him that asking him to be his friend was the best thing he ever done.

So I ask you again, why was Mike singled out. Why was he the only one there from the party?

And let's compare the content of what is said, shall we?

Joyce informs Will of his birthday, and how he gave someone a toy because the person was sad.

Jonathan tells Will about the day their father left and they built Castle Byers together.

All of those moments start to sound really small compared to this monumental thing Mike shares because the thing is. Will is aware that his birthday is March 22 (and so are the writers but I digress), and he knows that he and Jonathan built the castle when Lonnie left.

And he also knows when he and Mike met. What he didn't know, up until that point, is that it meant that much to Mike. Was that, canonically, Mike viewed it as the best choice he ever made.

During season 3, both Lucas and Mike were the source of Will's anger, and yet Mike is the only one who follows Mike out of the basement and he immediately backtracks and tells Will it was a cool campaign.

Now, did at any point Will tell Mike he didn't like girls? Did he, at any point, make passing remarks about not feeling attraction towards them?

Was there any realistic reason for Mike to say the words: "Is not my fault you don't like girls" instead of saying: "Is not my fault you can't get a girlfriend?" or "Is it too bad that I want to spend some time with my girlfriend?" All of these are far more acceptable responses to Will's argument than what he said and yet he went straight for the jugular with no reason whatsoever.

In canon there was no reason for him to assume Will didn't like girls - especially considering he urged Will to dance with a girl a few months prior -. So how the hell did he go from Will should dance with a girl (which implies he didn't assume anything other than Will being straight) to: "Is not my fault you don't like girls?

And we can see he immediately feels sorry, and when Will bikes away he goes out after him without hesitation in the pouring rain to apologize.

Now, another parallel to Mike and El. When they break up everything around them is colorful and bright, Mike doesn't look upset, or heartbroken, he just looks pissed and Max straight up tells El he'll come crawling back and asking for forgiveness in no time.

Does he do it?

No.

But who does he go after immediately after fighting? I don't have to tell you.

Mike had been dating El for a while up to that point, you'd think he'd be upset that she broke up with him, instead, he looked at him like "What the fuck" and kept complaining about it. He looked more guilty about what he said to Will than about the fact he was lying to El.

And by the end of the season, we can see he looks terrified the moment El kisses him and tells him he loves her. He doesn't close his eyes, and he doesn't kiss her back, he just stands there looking utterly lost and confused.

And then they did something that is particularly gut-punching.

They used Heroes by Peter Gabriel again - the same song was used when Will's body was found.

Not only the music was the same, but we saw Mike staring at Will's house with this somber expression and biking away. As he gets home, he holds his mother and if you're thinking that this sounds familiar is because it is. We saw it before: The same exact thing happened when Will's body was found.

Now we have to remember that Mike was losing both El and Will. That both of them are leaving, and yet every single visual and musical cue tells us who Mike is subconsciously thinking about.

They could have chosen any other song, they didn't need to make it look like Mike was about to have a panic attack when El kissed him (and make it look like he was terrified) and they sure as hell didn't have to use the same song they used when Will's body was found and for Mike to hug his mother the same way he did that fateful night.

And I saw someone argue that he looks like that because he realized he loved. If that was the case, why didn't he just say it then? She heard him say it before, and she tells him she loves him too, so not only does that let him know she feels the same, but it should also help with his insecurity about not being sure he feels like that in season 4. And also, she signed all her letters as "Love, El", and he didn't pick up on it? Unlikely.

Not only do we have Finn's acting to rely on, but we also have the script that explicitly states that as El kisses him, Mike feels confused and asks "What is wrong with me?"

And oh my am I rambling, I am so sorry lmao but I still have thoughts™ so I hope you don't mind lmao.

In season 4, we see that Mike has no issue hugging Dustin and that he has no issue maintaining his friendships with his other friends or with talking to El but wouldn't you know it? He hasn't been talking to Will for months.

Then there's the infamous airport awkward af half hug, and Mike casting furtive glances toward Will the entire time (you can rewatch the scene and see it for yourself).

Another important thing to note is that there was no single moment between Mike and El where they were alone if we don't count their argument about him not telling her he loves her.

Every other single moment of the season they share has Will standing there. They force us to feel sorry for him, they force us to confront the fact that Mike and El being together is breaking his heart, and they make us feel even sorrier for a boy who's already been through too much.

They even tell us a few facts while they are it:

Will loves Mike. Mike doesn't make him like a mistake at all, he makes him feel better for being himself. Will pictures himself with Mike by his side forever, and he doesn't think he'll be ever able to move on from him and from how he feels.

He literally Cyrano de Bergerac's the shit out of the situation because he couldn't stand the thought of Mike thinking about himself in that way. He loves Mike so much that he gives up something sacred to him just so that Mike gets to be happy. He rips off the band-aid because he lost all hope, and he has come to accept that he won't get his happy ending.

And there's something even more inherently tragic in what Will does - from an anthropological standpoint that is, because he's not giving Mike just a painting, but a sacred part of himself, of what makes him "him"". He wraps it up with lies, closes it with a beautiful bow, and signs El's name on it. He says what he feels and assigns those feelings to El, but what Mike truly has will always be a part of Will, not a part of El.

We don't even know if and where Mike keeps El's letters, and yet, every single one of Will's drawings was kept safely by Mike.

And finally, we have the final shot of the season.

At first, we see El Mike and Will standing together in the middle. Then we have Jancy and Jopper at their side.

Then El steps away and goes to the front, while Mike and Will stay behind, right in the middle, with the other couples of the show. I have a really hard time believing that was coincidental.

They could have ended the season a million different ways and yet, they didn't.

So again, ask yourself why that is.

There's a lot more I could say, but I feel like I already scared you enough as it is lmao.

I know I'm not giving you all of the answers, but I genuinely believe that the best you can do is analyze the show in its entirety. Is for you to approach with questions instead of preconceived answers. Ask yourself: If they could go this way, why did they go that way?

I hope this helped you in some way, and I also wanted you to remember this is a process. The show was meant to be redigested and reassessed, it was meant to be watched over and over again.

If you pay attention, if you look closely, you'll see small moments of Will and Mike's relationship since season 1. If you pay more attention, they'll become more noticeable as you go.

But if you take a step back, if you start to wonder why Will has to fall in love, if you question why his love had to be implied as unrequited; why at the same time Mike and El never really talk after his supposed love speech, why is this happening at all, that should also tell you a feel things.

I don't know if this helps at all, but I hope it does, somehow.

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #byler analysis #byler endgame #anti mileven

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