#bro looks like a light breeze is gonna blow him away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist · 4 years ago

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☀︎︎-: 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 :-☀︎︎

Kimetsu no yaiba x reader

°•.《 characters 》.•°

Rengoku, Giyuu, Shinobu, Sanemi

Tw: Swearing because Sanemi is Sanemi

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I'm definitely gonna binge write this series after watching the movie, I literally cant stop thinking about it--

Send in as much requests as you want!! :))

I do fluff, different AU's, angst and NSFW(we'll see).

Keep in mind, I havent read the manga. I'm caught up to the train Arc and that's it, so try not to spoil anything by requesting characters that havent appeared yet lol

« `` •"𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞~"• ´´ »

☼︎ ☀︎︎ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ ᴋʏᴏᴜᴊᴜʀᴏᴜ☀︎︎ ☼︎

Holding hands is sort of a need for him-

He's huge with PDA and holding your small hand within his reassures him quite a bit. He never needs to ask to hold your hand, he just grips it whenever and wherever.

I feel like he'll sense when your nervous and be really perceptive, so he'd hold your hand to ground you in a way

It's highly effectve.

"Delicious!" Your energetic boyfriend chirped, eating his takoyaki with fervour and a bright smile.

You ate your own food from across him, shaking your head a little with a slight smile slanting onto your lips.

It's definitely been a long day, so winding down and eating with your amazing boyfriend is definitely a preferable way to end it.

He sort of sensed your stress as you came back from training, sweat sleek across your forehead. And thus, he ran a bath for you and then took you out for dinner to take your mind off of whatever was bothering you.

He's always had a keen intuition and was brilliant at reading emotions on others. It was a weird super power at this point. But he noticed how relaxed you were now that you were with him, it melted his heart.

His eyes flickered over your expression, his eyes soft with adoration and affection." This is certainly calming after a long day!" He exclaimed happily.

At his jolly aura, you nodded in agreement," Honestly... It's like you have some weird superpower to make me forget about whatever was annoying me. Kinda freaky." You shivered.

Letting out a hearty laugh, the man reached out, interlacing his long fingers with yours suddenly. The warmth of his skin sending goosebumps over your arms.

"I just know you too well! Nothing wrong or freaky about that!" His grin was filled with light.

Your fingers tightened around his, his warm skin seemed to be heating up your own body as well. Thank God, you were beginning to get cold anyways.

"Have I ever told you about how cute your hands are!" It was more of a statement than a question, pulling his hand and your hand closer to him so he could get a better glimpse at your soft hands." So tiny... So soft. It's like I'm being touched by an angel!"

"Geez, you're cheesy."

"You love it~!"

"... Fair point."

•«☔︎ 𝙜𝙞𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖 ☔︎»•

Bro I'm sorry, but I dont think he holds your hand much-

I feel like he thinks he doesnt need to show how much he loves you through actions, more so through blunt words.

But he will get the sudden urge to hold your hand every once in a while, so be prepared because he could get the jump on you at any point.

Doesnt like PDA that much, it makes him slightly uncomfortable because it's in public but I feel like he would get used to it later in your relationship.

Ocean-blue eyes stared at you hesitantly as you continued to speak about the new breathing technique you had learned.

Both you and Giyuu were walking peacefully through the garden you had grown over the years, the plants varying in different colours and sizes. They reminded him of you.

Your peaceful personality cued him to remember the petals of the flowers blowing gently in the breeze. Not to mention you smell very distinctly and sweet just like the flowers as well.

But as he walked with you in this haven, he felt pretty agitated and frustated. He hid it well with his usual deapan expressions, but he could feel the pit of the emotions growing bigger.

His hand twitched suddenly when the back of yours brushed against his, his cheeks tinting pink at the abrupt contact.

Gulping, he looked straight ahead with sharp eyes and a furrowed brow.

The atmosphere shifted.

And when you had stopped talking, he knew that you had noticed the harsh shift as well.

"Giyuu?... Are you feeling okay? You look like you're burning up." You questioned out of concern, a worried expression upon your face.

Shaking his head briefly, the ravenette continued to walk with his head staring straight ahead," I feel optimal. Why do you ask?" He was so obviously trying to change the subject.

You frowned a little at the stiff response and opened your mouth to respond but your boyfriend had beaten you to it.

"Let me h-... Hold your... Hand... Please." He uttered, looking down with red cheeks, an embarrassed scowl squirmed on his lips.

You were silent for a long while, making him wait nervously for your answer. What he wasn't expecting was the cute snort of laughter coming from you and grabbing his hand tightly within your own, your other hand wrapping around his forearm like it was a substitute teddy bear.

His cheeks heated up tenfold and he had to look away before you noticed.

"You're such a cutie. You don't need to ask to hold my hand you know?" You teased lightly, nudging him playfully by bumping your hip against his.

"I-it's embarrassing." He retorted.

"Whatever, cutie."

"No."

"Yes."

"Stop it."

꧁ꕥ 𝑲𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒖 ꕥ꧂

She would sooo tease you for wanting to hold her hand-

Like, she would hold it obvi, but she'd tease you about it for a good 5 minutes before finally giving up lol

Flustering you is one of her favourite pastimes, it was what your relationship was built on top of in the first place. Teasing eachother was always a thing you guys did.

But Kocho takes teasing to a MAXIMUM.

It's like you guys are challenging eachother to a tease off and she just refuses to loose. She'd rather die.

Dramatic but true

What a fucking queen-

"Ara, ara~ what was that? You want to hold my hand?" The raven haired woman pressed her hand against her lips, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you." Oh~ How scandalous! You're saying we should do pre-martial hand holding? why, that's practically a crime!"

You deadpanned at your girlfriend's words," Holding your hand is a crime?..."

"Mmhm!"

"But we literally made-out yester-"

She smiled at you passive-aggressively," I'm afraid we can't hold hands until we're married! Too bad!" She sighed, pretending to seem devastated ," How could you suggest we do such a lewd thing? In public, no less! You're quite the little scoundrel, hmm?~"

Your deadpan only deepened," Well then... I guess I'll just have to marry you then, hm? So I can hold your hand for the rest of my life." You chimed out, a slight twinkle in your eye. At the sight of Kocho's cheeks tinting a bright red, you smirked in triumph." Oya~? What's that I see? Is that blush?" You poked her warm cheek affectionately," I think it iiiis~!"

Biting her lip, Kocho scoffed and rolled her eyes," Just because you won doesn't mean you-... Shut up." She huffed out, losing her composure.

" Aha! So I won." You grinned out," I think I deserve a prize for winning for like... the first time." You said that last part quickly.

" You're not getting a kiss, if that's what you're referring to!" She smiled up at you passive aggressively.

Now the win didn't even feel like a win.

I guess, Kocho will always win in the end.

You pouted at her, eyebrows furrowed," You're so petty...." You groaned out, before a cheeky grin crossed over your lips," How about letting me hold your hand instead?"

Kocho stared at your grin with an unimpressed look, before her eyes softened and a gentle smile spread onto her perfect lips." Wipe that cheeky grin off of your face and I might consider it."

A bright smile instantly spread onto your lips and you held out your hand expectantly for her to take it. Her radiant smile only widened and her hand settled into yours, her warm fingers closing over your own as if she was keeping them safe in her hold.

" Now you have to marry me." She stated simply," I want to hold your hand in mine for the rest of my life as well."

᯾༄𖦹.𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚 .𖦹༄᯾

BRUUUUH THIS FUCKING MAN-

Ok, so hear me out lol-

I have read up on his character a tiny bit and bro he's such a fucking SOFTY like-

If you were to ask him to hold your hand he'd highkey have to process what you said for like a minute or two before finally agreeing to it lol

He has such a tough-guy exterior when on the inside he's actually really caring to those who are important to him.

Definitely one of those characters who seem like pricks but they like something cute like cats or something-

"Uhm... Sanemi?" You spoke up suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence.

Your boyfriend broke out of his daze of appreciating your beauty and hummed to let you know that he was listening, picking up some of his uneaten rice with his chopsticks.

"Can... Can I h-hold your hand?"

He choked on the rice he was eating, coughing into his fist and thumping his other hand against his chest to try and get the rice that shot down the back of his throat to go down.

You went to get out of your chair to help him, concern etched onto your face, but he held a hand up to stop you. Instead, you simply passed your water to him, as of which he chugged greatfully.

When he had finally gained his composure, he held out a slightly trembling hand, his cheeks tinted red as he let out a gruff," yeah... Of course you can, idiot. You don't have to ask..."

Adoration bloomed in your chest at his words and you grabbed his outstretched hand, instantly interlocking your fingers with his. Absentmindedly, you ran your thumb up and down his hand comfortingly as you smiled like an idiot to yourself.

Ba-dump.

Sanemi's heart thumped in his chest at the look of love on your face, feeling his whole body heating up. The wind pillar was known for being ruthless, intimidating and quite frankly... A bit of an asshole.

But around you? He's a completely different person.

Between you and his little brother, he's always going to have a huge soft spot for you both.

So he'll always treat you well.

Squeezing your hand lovingly, he let a slight smirk curl onto his lips," You look like a dumbass smiling like that.... You must really like me, huh?" He tried to tease.

"I don't like you."

Arrows shot through his heart, his smirk dropping in an instant," Oi-!"

You giggled at his response," I love you."

The frown on his lips wobbled a little, threatening to break out into an idiotic smile. Clearing his throat, he looked away from you and pressed the back of his unoccupied hand against his mouth to hide the smile that threatened to appear.

"Oh..." He could only respond with," y-yeah... Same here."

"You're so socially inept."

"I'm damn not!!" He grumbled, eyebrows furrowing," I fucking love you too!! Is that better?"

You grinned childishly, bringing his hand up to your mouth and placing a light kiss to it," much better."

It's safe to say that this was the day he vowed to marry you.

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shadyelizabeth · 3 years ago

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"BABY"

Samira lay tucked against Keanu’s chest, her back to his front, turning a thought over and over in her head. The ceiling fan spun in slow circles above them, pushing a light breeze around the room. Fireflies floated in lazy patterns outside his window, slowly blinking in and out of existence, and Keanu’s arm was thrown over her waist, a finger lightly tracing across her abdomen.

“Babe,” she said.

“Yeah?”

She turned over so they were face to face, nose to nose, knee to knee, breathing in his spicy citrus scent. “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I hope you don’t get upset.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m intrigued. What’s up?”

“You and KB. Have y’all ever . . .?”

His eyebrows raised toward his hairline as he waited for her to finish.

She dropped her eyes and started, “I know sometimes bros are just bros, but y’all have this, like, almost affectionate relationship. You don’t shy away from blowing kisses at each other and grabbing each other’s butts. And I didn’t say anything because I kinda wanted to see how things played out, but earlier, when I stepped outside to take a phone call, through the window, I saw KB wrap his arms around you from behind; you leaned back into him, and it was an intimate moment.” Meeting his waiting gaze, she continued, “So, I’m just wondering if you guys have, like, ever dated or hooked up or something?”

He chuckled, the sound escaping through his nose. “Before I answer that, would it bother you if we had?”

“Of course not!” She said, shaking her head, her loose curls lightly hitting her in the face. “I think I’ve said that I’ve dated girls, in passing, but if not, to lay it on the table, I’m bisexual, myself. I just wanted to know if I was picking up the right vibe or seeing things that I might’ve wanted to see.”

“Might’ve wanted to see, eh?” He pulled her closer, wedging his knee between her thighs, applying gentle pressure. “Am I learning something new about you, right now?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Let’s not pretend like you don’t know that you’re hot. KB is hot, and if you two hooked up, it would be fucking molten.” She ground down against his knee, unsure where this was going but excited to find out. “But you haven’t answered my question: Y’all got history or nah?”

Keanu bit his lip and nodded. With a sly smile, he said, “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” The mental picture in her head right now was overwhelming. Too many positions. Too many possibilities. All those hard, lean muscles and tattooed skin . . . She needed details and stat.

Rolling on top of him, she straddled his waist and pinned his arms above his head. “Tell me everything!”

He grinned and easily pulled his wrists from her grip. Placing his hands on her waist, he said, “Or . . . we could show you?” He was looking directly into her eyes, watching her reaction.

Samira had never been in a threesome before nor was it something she was necessarily dying to take part in, but she wasn’t opposed to the idea, given she felt comfortable in the situation.

When she’d first met KB and saw how close he and Keanu were, the idea had crossed her mind, jokingly at first, but the more she saw them interact, the more she thought Maybe . . . But she didn’t want to assume that’s what he meant, so she cleared her throat and said, “Come again?”

“You definitely will, multiple times, if you say yes.”

A shiver ran down her spine and she knew he felt it.

His eyes sparked with a mischievous glint and a wicked grin unfolded across his mouth. He rolled them over, so she was flat on her back and he was pressed up against her side. Propped up on one elbow, he splayed his other hand flat against her stomach. “If this is something we decide we’d all like to pursue, obviously, there needs to be complete and total honesty, so I’ll start at the beginning: KB and I have been friends for practically our whole lives. Neither of us have ever been shy about our sexuality.

“In high school, after some weird locker room exchanges, we both thought we might be into dudes, so we experimented with each other. We didn’t go too far, but we made out and touched each other’s dicks, got each other off. But it never went past that. We realized we were both more into women than we were into men, so we thanked each other for services provided and went on with our lives.”

“Is KB a good kisser?”

Nuzzling into her neck, his breath was warm on her skin when he said, “Very.” He placed a soft kiss on the underside of her jaw.

“That’s hot.”

“Yeah?” She felt his lips curl against her neck. His hand slid over her mound, rubbing her through the thin material of her lacy panties.

“Yeah,” she said, as her eyes fluttered shut.

“But you know how once you get a taste of something, even if you don’t want it regularly, every once in a while, that craving will sneak back up on you?” He bit her earlobe, continuing to rub circles with the tips of his fingers. “That’s kinda how it is with KB and me. There’s never been any romantic feelings, but every once in a while, we get an itch only the other can scratch.

“At first, we always had a third who was a woman. We knew what we wanted, but we also knew once we crossed that line, there was no going back. Being with a woman gave us an excuse to do more, especially if it meant pleasing her, if it was for her enjoyment—”

Samira’s imagination immediately put her in that scenario—being pleased by these two gorgeous men, their hands and mouths all over her body, her mouth and her pussy being stretched and filled by their beautiful cocks (even if she hadn’t seen KB’s yet, she knew it had to be a masterpiece)—soaking her panties through.

Keanu took notice because he pushed them to the side. His fingers quickly dipped into her wetness before swiping across her oh-so-sensitive clit. She moaned and tried to shift deeper into the bed, but he didn’t stop; his touches became more persistent. She could hear the smile in his voice as he continued to speak.

“But after a while, we decided we didn’t need a third. We enjoyed each other’s bodies, and if we couldn’t admit that to ourselves and/or be with each other without someone else, we figured we shouldn’t do anything more until we could.

“So, we went back to being just friends, until one night, we were hanging out at KB’s old place. We’d had a little bit to drink, but neither of us were drunk. We were tipsy and vibing. His hand ended up in my hair. My face ended up in his neck. Our lips ended up fused together. We took it back to his bedroom, ripping each other’s clothes off as we went. At that point, we hadn’t gone any further than sucking each other’s dicks and inserting a finger or two, but one thing led to another and that was the first time we fucked.”

He timed his words perfectly, sliding his fingers into her pussy as ‘fucked’ left his lips. Her eyes shot open; that wicked grin still plastered across his face. He held them there, continuing to rub light circles over her clit with his thumb. Her breathing was shallow as she focused on not coming too quickly.

Focused wholly on the sensation between her legs, she had to take a deep breath and swallow before she was able to ask, “But not the last?”

He shook his head, the tips of his hair tickling her bare shoulders. “Nope.” His lips popped around the ‘p’.

“I can’t—I can’t decide which of you I think would be the bottom.”

“Who would you want it to be?” His fingers started to move in and out of her, rough and rhythmic. Every time he thrust in, his middle finger rubbed sweetly inside of her in a come hither motion. She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt not to moan.

When she watched gay porn, she tended to watch burly men together. There was just something about two jacked men going at it, especially when one was moaning and vocal, saying how much he loved getting fucked. It was a man in a traditionally submissive role, relishing and moaning in exquisite pleasure when their special spot was hit, that really turned her on. She could cum from audio alone, and between Keanu and KB, since she knew Keanu better—knew the curves of his moans and the tastes of his screams, knew how dominant he could be in the bedroom—the idea of him in a receiving role made her gush.

“You—fuck! I can just see your hair wrapped in KB’s fist as he fucks you from behind.”

“God,” he moaned, his lips barely grazing hers as he spoke. “I can feel how much you like the idea of that.”

“I love the idea of that.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto.

“What else?” His pace sped up, fingering her faster.

“You,” she said, shakily, her breath uneven and voice trembling, “moaning like a dirty little cock slut every time his big dick fucks against your prostate.”

He was practically on top of her now. She could feel the length of his hard cock through his sweatpants, grinding against her hip and kissing her deeply, licking into her mouth. Her hips gyrated as he kept up on his onslaught on her cunt and her clit, her juices flowing down her crack, soaking into the sheets. She tried and failed to catch a breath.

“It always feels so good when his huge fucking dick hits just”—pump—“the right”—pump—“spot”—pump, his fingers squelching in her wetness.

“Ohmygawd.” The words came out in one breath. No spaces. No thoughts. Just pleasure.

“You’re gonna love his dick, baby,” he said against her lips.

“Fu-kuh!” She grabbed her nipples and pulled, hard, trying to focus on the picture they’d been painting. “And when he’s done using you, he comes in your tight little ass?”

“Uh huh.” He nodded. “And licks it clean afterward.”

“Jesus Christ!” She knew how much Keanu liked getting his ass eaten. She’d done it a few times herself, but there was something about KB’s face buried in Keanu’s hole that sent her over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she exclaimed, the delicious sensation between her legs growing more and more intense.

“Do it, baby!” He pulled his fingers from her pussy and started rubbing her clit and her lips quickly back and forth with the flats of his four fingers, his calluses adding extra friction.

It felt soooo fucking good! She kept tweaking her nipples, wishing she had a mouth (or two) to suck on them, but her fingers would have to do for now. Her back arched up off the bed, her thighs shaking as that white hot pleasure kept building and his fingers never stopped moving and—

“Cum for me, Mir,” left his lips, and, as if waiting for his command, she came, biting her lip to keep from crying out. She trembled with the intensity of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched and contracted, feeling the absence of something inside of her, the sound of her sopping wetness spurred her on and on until, finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

Not trusting herself to speak, she swatted his hand away and rode the wave of her climax back to the shore, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to steady her erratic heartbeat.

Keanu pressed gentle kisses to her face and her neck, to her shoulders and chest while lightly trailing the tips of his fingers over the tops of her thighs and across her belly, the aftershocks of her orgasm still twitching through her body.

“That was so hot, baby.” He nipped at her jaw, the scrape of his teeth almost too much on her overly sensitive skin. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for six months and I didn’t know how fucking filthy you were.”

She mustered up enough strength to turn her neck. Dropping a kiss on his forehead, she said, “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for six months and I didn’t know you were really into men.”

“Just one. From time to time.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, still enjoying his light caresses. “Have you guys hooked up since we’ve been together?”

“No.” He shook his head, looking up into her eyes. “We only fool around when we’re both single, and trust me when I say that there is nothing you or this relationship is leaving me wanting. But being here with him has . . . reignited some old engines.”

Pushing his hair behind his ear, she rubbed his ear softly, thriving in this tender intimacy of postcoital honesty. She wouldn’t say it was better than the sex, but sometimes, it was just as good.

“I believe you, and I get it. Our bodies tend to want what they want, sometimes regardless of what our heads and our hearts say which makes me wonder . . . You don’t think you’ll ever want anything more from KB? Like an actual relationship?”

He shook his head again, his hair falling back into his face. “Every time we’ve hooked up, we re-examined our relationship, to see if we’re okay with what we’re doing and to see if we’d like to give something more a shot. At this point in our lives, we’re okay with our current arrangement. We’re friends, first and foremost, who occasionally use each other to fill space when we’re lonely. ”

She nodded slowly, digesting his words. “So, if I say yes, would this be the first time y’all have hooked up with one of each other’s significant others?”

“Yes.”

“Why me?” she asked softly. “Are you just looking for a hot night of sex and debauchery, or . . .?”

Lacing their fingers together, he said, ”Even though we haven’t known each other that long, Mira, I feel like I’ve known you for much longer. We have a connection unlike any I’ve ever had with someone I’ve dated. The only other person who knows me as well as you do is KB, and the way you two automatically got along from the moment you met, I just—I wanna share this closeness with each of you, with the both of you, at the same.

“Plus, KB is, like, smitten with you.”

“Lol what?”

His eyebrows shot up again, but this time in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

She shook her head.

Kneading her hip, he said, “He didn’t say anything, but we’ve known each other forever. I know what it’s like when he’s into someone, and if you had just been a friend of mine, he would have shot his shot by now.”

“Hmm. Good to know I still got it!”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s not pretend like you don’t know that you’re hot,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

Bringing their clasped hands to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “But that’s it; everything’s on the table now. Take as much time as you need to think about it. If you have anything you wanna talk about with me and/or KB, we’ll talk. If you say no, we’ll understand. If you say yes, well . . . we’ll do everything we can to make sure it’s a night you’ll never forget.”

#lovelink #lovelink: keanu #keanu hale #samira #this is smut #KB #i wish Lovelink would give friends last names #i've never written smut before #don't judge me okay #february 2022 #thinking about writing a follow-up to this #but it's not gonna be soon

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years ago

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off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after.

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face.

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled.

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?”

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway.

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time.

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway.

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in.

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Says who?”

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives.

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.”

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you.

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

#chloe1kwritingchallenge #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #best friend's brother #enemies to lovers #osterfield!reader

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maddiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets of the Shore

Pairing: Pogues x OC, eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Thank you so much for all the nice things you guys have said about chapter one! A couple people have asked to be tagged for every update so I started a tag list. If you would like to be tagged, please message me! I hope I got everyone who asked and if I didn’t please let me know. Next chapter, you’ll learn more about Marleigh and her personality so bare with me (: Gonna post updates every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday (:

Another Note: Apparently my hashtags didn’t work the last time so I’m reposting this. I don’t know what happened. Sorry! Let me know if they worked this time (:

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: None

Chapter One

I wake up to the rustling of John B walking through the Chateau, kicking over empty beer cans and muttering to himself. He mentions something about service, but I can barely understand through the fog in my own head that's still heavy with sleep.

"Yo, JJ," He says and I hear a slap against bare skin. "You been outside?"

"I have polio, bro," JJ grumbles into his pillow. "I can't walk."

I peek one eye open. The sunlight coming in through the window blinds me for a second. I'm curled into myself with my back to JJ. He's sleeping on his stomach, his left arm slung over my side.

I groan as I pull myself up and lean against the back of the couch. Stretching my arms, I turn to look out the window. Even with just a quick glimpse, I can see the mess in our back yard Hurricane Agatha made. A wash of frustration runs through me when I think about all the work we're going to have to do to clean it up. Not just here but on Figure Eight too. No way those Kooks get their hands dirty for this.

I swing my legs over the mattress and follow my brother outside after hearing JJ mumble something about me leaving. His morning voice sends a rush of warmth to my chest and I have to hold back the grin that's fighting it's way on my lips.

The first thing I see is the giant tree that now lays across our yard, ripped out of its roots. Had the wind been blowing the other way, it would have landed on our house and we would have been screwed.

"Damn," I whistle, still scanning the damage. John B's pulling branches out of the HMS Pogue. Somehow our small boat has managed to survive the storm. I look over to the chicken coop that's to the side of our home. The roosters are crowing which means they're alive too.

"Agatha did some work, huh?" JJ says from the porch door. He already has a beer in his hand as he studies our yard. I know he's already thinking about the labor he'll have to put into other people's yards too.

"Yeah, she did," My brother says, looking out into the water.

"What you thinking?"

John B looks back with a smirk on his lips. "I'm thinking that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab."

"What about the DCS? Wasn't that today?" JJ asks, looking between my brother and I.

He shakes his head. "Nah, they're not getting on a ferry." He hops down from the boat and approaches us. "Come on, think about it. It's God tellin' us to fish."

JJ smirks back at him. "Yeah."

"Let me get changed first," I tell them before turning back into my house.

No lights turn on when I flick the switch on my bedroom wall. Now I know what John B was muttering about when he first woke up. I pull up the blinds on my windows to let some kind of light through my room. Then I hold up two bathing suits in my mirror, trying to pick between the blue one or the floral one.

"I like the blue one," JJ says, welcoming himself into my room. I swivel around in surprise. I thought I locked my door. I glare at the intrusion but he ignores it, his smirk only growing. "Matches your eyes and if I remember correctly, the bottoms are more cheeky than the other ones."

I throw the floral bikini top in his direction, which he skillfully dodges. I don't know if it was JJ's opinion or if I was already leaning towards the blue bathing suit, but that's the one I choose.

As JJ ruffles through his duffel bag on my dresser, I go to the bathroom to change. I throw on another pair of jean shorts and a T shirt and follow the boys out to the dock where they're already getting the boat ready.

Its kind of routine when the Pogues have a boat day. We make our way through the marsh, first picking up Pope and then Kie, who will more than likely have a cooler packed with drinks and snacks. We'll stay on the water for hours, getting sunburnt and drunk until the sun goes down or one of us wants to go back to surf.

I look over the damage that Hurricane Agatha as tortured onto our side of the island. Everyone's yard looks just like mine. Fallen trees and branches litter their back yards. Some boats have sunken into the water, and not a single house looks like they have power.

"Good morning!" John B yells to the residents as we drive by. Always the friendly face he is.

"Sure hope Guffy's boat didn't sink," JJ says, standing on the front of the boat, looking into the yards. "He doesn't have insurance."

"Yeah."

"Hi, Miss Amy!" I wave to the woman raking the leaves and picking up sticks. She looks up at us and waves back, taking a break from the yard work. "You guys get through it?"

She motions to her yard and shrugs her shoulders. "Still here!"

She goes back to her yard work and JJ immediately turns around and looks at John B with a proud smile. "She totally looked at me."

"I saw it." John B smirks back, playing along.

I roll my eyes and lean further back into the boat, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes and muttering the word 'idiot.'

"Dude look at this place." JJ whistles. "Agatha what did you do?"

"She is a crazy lady."

"Hard-core Hurricane surge. We'll be cleaning this all summer."

"That's my nightmare."

"Well, look who we have here," JJ says, making me look up at the dock we're closely approaching.

I make my way to the front of the boat to stand next to JJ as we get closer to Pope's dock where he is standing with his father already on clean up duty.

John B talks into his shoulder like a cop radios his partners and changes his voice to sound like he's speaking through a megaphone. "We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory." He even mimics the static noise those horns make.

Pope looks at us defeated. "I can't. My pop's got me on lockdown."

"Come on, Pope!" I groan.

JJ does the same thing as John B and talks into his shoulder, using the same voice. "Your dad's a pussy. Over."

Heyward approaches the railing of his deck and points at JJ with a glare. "Oh, I heard that, you little bastard."

I can't help but laugh at the interaction.

"We need your son!" I add.

"Yeah, and island rule. Day after a hurricane's a free day," JJ says.

"Who made that up?" Heyward continues to glare at him.

"Uh, Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance." JJ pretends to check his pockets. "I have a card."

"Think I'm stupid?"

Pope turns to his father with pleading eyes. "I'll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow."

Immediately his father shakes his head. "You think - no. No." Pope looks at us, silently conflicted. "Hell no," His dad says, reading his son's face. "You doin' it right now."

Pope looks back at us. When he finds my eyes I nod my head and wave him closer to me. "Come on. Get in the boat."

"Make a run for it," JJ says too.

Heyward glares at us. "Boy if you get in that boat -"

Pope doesn't wait to hear the rest of that sentence. He's already taking off towards us. JJ's there, ready to help him in before his dad can catch up to him. I clap my hands and wrap my arms around his neck in a tight hug when he makes it in. John B immediately starts driving away.

"How does that feel?" JJ says.

Pope can't even enjoy the moment completely. His dad yells at us as we float away and he's waving to John B to drive faster. "Go, go, go, go."

"Bring your ass back up here!" Heyward continues to yell at us.

Pope turns to yell back at his dad. "I promise I'll do it tomorrow, Dad."

"You're gonna clean shrimp, clean fish -"

"Love you pops!"

"Love you pops!" I repeat, falling back in my seat at the end of the boat and laughing up at the sky.

"We'll bring him back in one piece!" John B yells. "I promise."

"And I don't like your friends!" Is the last thing we hear from him.

A couple minutes later, we're driving down Kook land. Kie is already at the edge of her dock, holding a cooler like I knew she would. Her curly brunette hair falls behind her shoulders. I wish I had hair like her's.

JJ walks to the side to help her in. He holds out his hand for her to take. "Oh, top o' the mornin' to ya."

"Good morning," She says, moving to the end of the boat to take a seat next to me.

"Morning," John B and I say.

"Whatcha got?" Pope asks her. "You got some juice boxes?"

"You know, just some yogurts and carrot sticks," She replies sarcastically, using her shoulder to shove me slightly when I scoff.

"How about my kind of juice box?" JJ says, falling on the seat on the other side of me.

"Yeah." Kie pulls out the bottles of beer and hands them out. The three of us cheer when we pop the cap off. I let the carbonated bread water, as I like to call it, slide down my throat. Beer always taste better in the boat in the summer.

John B and Pope switch seats, leaving Pope behind the wheel.

"Brace for impact," Pope says as he picks up speed now that we're past the 'No Wake' zone. My hair flies behind my shoulders as the wind rushes past me.

JJ stands up and holds out his hands in the air, basking in the breeze and morning sun. "Bet you can't do this. Party trick." I narrow my eyes at him, glaring through the beaming sun. "Hey, Pope. Can you go a little faster?"

"Here we go. I'm movin'," Pope says.

John B shakes his and watches JJ hold out the beer in front of his face. "Doesn't work."

"We've tried this like six thousand times," I say through my laugh. I look back down at Kie who is also rolling her eyes playfully.

"I got this. It's gonna work," JJ says.

JJ tilts the beer bottle towards his mouth letting the momentum and the wind pull the beer out of the bottle and splash on his face, barely hitting his open mouth like he intended it to. The excessive beer splashes down on mine and Kie's skin.

"You're getting beer in my hair!" Kie complains, moving to the other side of the boat next to John B.

JJ doesn't stop. He keeps moving his head to catch the liquid but he will never move fast enough to catch the mess he's creating.

"All right. All right. You're done." John B says.

"All right, stop!" Kie says, everyone somewhat annoyed that they're going to smell like beer for the next twelve hours.

Before JJ could even consider listening to any of us, the boat comes to a complete halt, jerking us forward and sending JJ flying off the boat. I slam onto the floor of the boat on my side. A small groan escapes my lips as a dull pain shoots through my hipbone.

"Jesus, Pope!" Kie yells. When I look up, she and John B are also on the floor. The steering wheel broke Pope's fall.

I pull myself up and fall back on my original seat. I twist my body around to look for JJ in the water. John B calls for him, asking if he's okay. His head peeks out from the water's surface and squints back at us with a grimace.

"I think my heels touched the back of my head."

I laugh at the exaggerated statement.

"Kie, Mar, you guys okay?" John B asks.

I look back to see Kie pulling herself off the ground and falling next to John B in the seat next to him. He rubs the skin on her back comfortingly. She smiles at him gratefully and nods her head. I keep my stare there for a few more long seconds. Recently Kie and John B have been hanging out more closely with one another. Obviously, they're best friends like the rest of us, but they're always picking the seat that's next to one another. Touches linger on the other's skin, and even Kie is laughing at John B's not so funny jokes.

"Pope what did you do?" JJ swims back to the boat.

"Sandbar," Pope says, looking out into the water. "Channel changed."

"No shit."

"This is probably gonna mess this whole place up," John B says.

"Hey, I saved the beer, though."

A sarcastic scoff blows past my lips and I shake my head. "Congrats, JJ."

"Guys..." I look back over at Pope who's fixated on something in the water as he stands on the side of the boat, unmoving. Barely blinking. "I think there's a boat down there."

"Shut up. What?"

"No way."

"No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there," Pope says.

I follow the others to the side of the boat to find what Pope is staring at. I'm ready to tell Pope he's seeing things and needs to get a couple more hours of sleep, but to my surprise he is right. A couple feet below the murky water is the silhouette of an overturned boat.

"Guys...is this..." John B says slowly.

"It's a boat!" Kie says.

I'm the first one to start stripping out of my clothes, curiosity overwhelming me. I want to see what's down there...if someone is down there.

"Guys, wait up!" I hear Pope yell as soon as I dive into the water next to JJ.

I swim deeper into the water, ignoring the thudding pain in my ears as I sink further into the marsh. The salt water slightly stings my eyes, but it isn't anything I'm not already use to. You kind of get use to it after wiping out in the ocean every time you surf.

The boat's bigger than the water's surface made it out to be. I don't think it's real until I feel the smooth exterior under my fingertips. I push myself a little deeper before I run out of air. I try looking through the open bars into the driver's seat. A part of me is afraid of what I might see, but I have to know. I have to make sure there's no one in here. Trapped and decaying all alone. My biggest fear is that my dad is somewhere in the middle of the ocean submerged in that same position.

However, I'm relieved when I don't see a dead body floating around the steering wheel.

When I feel my chest tighten, I push myself up to the surface. I gasp for air the second the cool breeze hits my face.

"You guys saw that?" JJ pants.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah I did!"

"Yeah!"

We swim back to the boat. John B climbs up first then holds out his hand for me to take. JJ is right behind me and pulls himself up.

"See?" He smirks at me when John B moves to help Pope and Kie up the boat. "Cheeky."

I shove his chest back with two hands. He falls back into the seat I had originally occupied, laughing to himself. I roll my eyes and throw my jean shorts back on when my legs are dry.

I both love it and hate it when JJ makes comments like that. It makes my heart flutter every time and fireworks explode in my stomach. But every euphoric feeling I get dissipates within seconds when I remember that the two of us will never happen. Because he's my brother's best friend. Because he's my best friend. And I can't ruin that like I ruin everything else in my life.

JJ turns to the rest of our friends and runs his fingers through his wet and tangled hair. "That's a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy. That's a primo rig."

"Yeah. That's the boat we saw when we surfed the surge." John B says, catching my attention. "Maybe it hit the jetty or something."

The memory of last night sprints to the front of my brain. The boat. I should have expected it to sink, but shouldn't have someone been behind the wheel? Whoever it was, I hope they made it out alive. I can't help but feel a small sliver of hope for that person since I didn't find them trapped inside the boat. With that sliver of hope came the reminder of my dad's disappearance like a slap in the face. Maybe if something had happened to him, he could have made it out alive too.

No. He is dead, I tell myself.

"You surfed the surge?" Kie's voice brings me out of my head. Her voice is strong and laced with disapproval.

"That's my boy. Pogue style!" JJ cheers.

"Why are you only looking at me? It was Marleigh's idea!" John B points an accusatory finger my way, hoping to take some of the blame off of motherly Kie.

Kie turns to glare at me. "What the heck?"

"Pope was there too!" I follow John B's lead by pointing my finger at someone else. This in return earns Pope a glare from our curly brunette friend.

"They guilted me into it! Said if they didn't have another pair of eyes, they'd probably drown and no one would be there to save them," Pope says with a glare. "They're lucky I was there. I was the one who saw Mar go under."

"I was fine!" I roll my eyes at Pope's dramatized version of events.

"Wait, wait." JJ interrupts the bickering. "Do we know whose boat that is?"

John B shakes his head and walks to the back of the boat where JJ and I are standing. "No, but we're about to find out."

"Dude, it's too deep."

"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ."

JJ makes his way to the opposite side of boat next to Kie and Pope. He digs into the cooler for another beer and takes a long swig. "Well, I'm not resuscitating you. I'm just making that clear up front."

John B pulls the anchor up and untangles it from the chains. "That's fine." He holds the anchor close to his chest, using the extra weight to drag him down further into the water. He catches Kie's disappointed glare and sighs. "What?"

Pope looks between the two and brings his hand up as a salute to my brother. "Diver down, fool."

John B nods. "Diver down."

JJ walks up to him and shoves him in the water by his chest before he can change his mind. "Yeah, he is."

John B's body disappears behind the muddy water. No one says anything as we wait. Kie bounces anxiously next to me on her toes. Her hands grip the edge of the boat until her knuckles turn white. I want to say something to her, to make her relax, but I don't want to embarrass her in front of the other two idiots on the boat.

"Should we go get him?" Pope asks after it's been a minute.

Before Kie can jump into the water, John B resurfaces, coughing water out of his mouth.

"Oh my God." Kie scowls. "That took forever."

I shake my head with a small smile on my lips and take the anchor from his hands.

"Any dead bodies?" Pope asks.

"Looting potential?" JJ follows up.

John B pulls himself into the boat. I hand him a towel.

"No. No." He shakes his head but holds something small in his hand. "But I found this motel key."

"A key," Pope says with no emotion, clearly not as excited as John B.

"Yeah, a key, Pope."

"Great!" JJ snags the key out of his hand and looks at it. "We salvaged a motel key."

"Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard," Kie says.

I agree with Kie. "Maybe we'll get a finder's fee."

"Yeah and not work all summer," JJ says. "Thanks Agatha, ya batch."

John B drives us back to the shore, but we don't go to the Chateau. We go to the coast guard to report the boat.

I'm not surprised to see the coast guard's post surrounded with people, shouting complaints and concerns. There is no designated line for people to professionally line themselves up. At least, if there is, no one is following the order.

I decide to wait with Pope and Kie in the boat while John B and JJ try to report the sunken boat. I rest my legs on the cooler and bask in the late morning sun with the spare couple of seconds I have in silence.

However those seconds are short-lived when I feel someone kick my legs off the cooler, almost knocking me off my seat.

"What the -"

Then I feel an upward slap to the back of my head. "The surge!"

"Ow, Kie!"

"You could have died out there!"

"But I didn't." I offer a guilty smile. When she doesn't smile back, I sigh and sit myself up straighter. "It's fun, Kie. You'll never know until you try it. You should come out with us next time."

"Your brother would have never let you do it, let alone join you."

Her words make me pause. It's true John B use to be more responsible. Out of the two us, he was always the one to keep us both in line. Sometimes he would be like a second father to me. He always protected me, bandaged me up, and took the fall for mistakes I made. Now he is following in my footsteps. Taking more risks with an act-now-think-later mentality. All of our friends know he's doing this to deal with our dad's disappearance. Unlike Kie, I don't think what he's doing is wrong. He's having more fun, and he's not going to kill himself doing it.

It's better than what I was doing when I tried forgetting about what might of happened to my dad.

The boys return with blank faces. I can already tell that the coast guards couldn't care less about their problem, let alone if they even listened.

"Well, that went well," John B says.

"So what's the plan?" I ask, ignoring Kie's deadly stare on the side of my head.

"I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns that boat." John B holds up the key with a mischievous smirk.

"We don't know who's room that is." Pope is quick to try to stop him. "It could be anyone."

Shockingly, Kie doesn't take Pope's side. She slaps her hands to the back of his shoulders and giggles. "Come on. I'll be lookout."

After JJ unties the boat from the dock, John B steers the boat in the direction of the motel.

"Finder's fee," John B shrugs. "Just saying."

"And hey, at least you'll only be an accomplice," JJ says as he stands next to John B, smirking down at a disapproving Pope.

"Man," Pope complains.

"Come on, bubba," John B laughs.

A couple minutes later, we pull up to the dock outside the motel, in front of the parking lot. I've seen run down motels before, but this one looks like it could be used in a horror movie. The wooden siding is peeling off, littering the pavement below. The railing on the balcony looks less than stable, most slabs even missing.

JJ whistles. "I thought the Chateau looked bad."

"This place is a shit show," John B agrees.

"Motel or meth lab?" Kie says.

"You be the judge," says Pope.

"Doesn't look like a place somebody with a Grady-White stays," I say, confused as to why a man living here had a boat as expensive as the one we found.

"No. Looks like a place someone with a Grady-White would get killed," Pope says.

JJ walks to the edge of the boat to tie us to the dock. I come up behind him to help.

"This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin' in for landing," JJ announces.

"We good?" John B asks as I tie the last knot.

"Yeah, we good," JJ replies.

I get out of the boat first and flip my sunglasses on top of my head. There's only two cars in the parking lot, which is good news. Less chances of us getting caught.

"All right. Here goes nothin'," John B says, hopping out of the boat next to me. JJ follows.

As we turn to walk away, Pope calls out for us to stop. "Hey!"

"Yeah?" John B asks.

"Don't let them do anything stupid," He tells my brother, nodding towards JJ and I with his head. I stick my tongue out at him but he doesn't acknowledge it.

JJ wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. "Oh, we will."

I laugh and shove him off of me.

John B laughs too before turning to Pope. "I'm not making any promises."

"Yeah I know," Pope finally sighs.

"Hey!" Kie walks to the side of the boat that's next to the dock. Neither John B or Kie say anything for a moment. They both just stand there, looking at each other for about two seconds too long. If I were any closer, I'd be able to see them blushing like crazy. "Uh, be careful." She looks over his shoulder at JJ and I who are watching them with raised brows and amused expressions. "I mean it."

"Yeah," John B chuckles and follows JJ and I out to the stairs that will bring us to the second floor of the motel.

The smell of the motel is almost as bad as it looks. Like a sweat box drenched in urine with a hint of cigarette smoke. Stacked on the side of the building near every room is a bare mattress, not one of them without a yellow or brown stain.

"Why are all these mattresses out?" I ask.

"After a hurricane, they ditch 'em 'cause they're moldy," JJ answers me before turning to slap his hands on John B's shoulders. He raises his voice an octave higher to mimic Kie and pretends to fawn over him. "Just be so careful, John."

John B pushes him away and rolls his eyes. "God, you're so weird."

"What was that about?" JJ continues.

"I don't know. Maybe she wants us to be careful." My brother plays dumb. It makes me roll my eyes. I don't know if he's just trying to avoid the conversation or if he's just that blind.

"Since she heard you're being threatened with exile, she's just been, like -" Again JJ raises his voice and clings onto John B's arm. "Oh be careful John B."

John B pushes him off again. "Get off."

JJ continues, "Oh, give me that John D already." He drops his voice back to normal. "When are you gonna swoop on that, man?"

I roll my eyes and lead the way. Most of the curtains are pulled down on every window. The doors lining the walls look thin enough that I could fall through them and accidentally whip them open. Even the wood I'm standing on doesn't seem sturdy enough. I feel like I'm going to fall through it with every step.

"Bro, you know the rule. No pogue-on-pogue macking."

"Yeah, trust me. I know that rule."

I look over my shoulder at the blonde boy, only to find him staring straight back at me. He quickly winks at me before I turn back around. Something flutters in my stomach.

"You're the one always hitting on her," John B retaliates.

"Of course I'm always hitting on her," JJ says. And just like that, the flutters are gone and replaced with something that more resembles nausea. "She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I've tried it. Have you?"

"You need help."

"You both need help," I say, keeping my eyes on the numbers on each door. We're getting close.

"Not a little help, you need a lot of help," John B continues, ignoring me completely. "It's like every girl who just has a heartbeat, you're like...'Uhh.'"

We finally reach room twenty nine and I turn to look at the two knuckleheads with a glare. I love being their friend and all but sometimes the bro talk needs to stay within the bros.

"What? It's not a big deal," JJ says more to me than John B which only makes me roll my eyes more. "You do the same thing."

"Shut up. This is us. Twenty-nine," I say.

JJ sighs and walks to the other side of me to peek into the window. When he doesn't see anything he knocks on the door. In an even higher pitched voice he says, "Housekeeping." I look behind us to make sure no one is looking.

"Should we try it?" John B asks.

"Yeah," JJ and I say at the same time, taking a step back so John B can use the key to let us in.

"No power. No security cameras. No one's gonna know," JJ says as a final push to invade this guy's privacy and ransack his room. Find out why he has a Grady-White and how we can get equally as lucky.

The door opens with a loud creak. The inside looks just as bad as the outside. Musty, dirty, and smells like the actual housekeepers haven't visited for weeks. Maybe months. As suspected the power is out and the windows are so dirty that barely any natural light can peek through them.

On the full size bed is a small green duffel bag and a pack of cigarettes. Next to it is a pillow I would not trust laying my head. Dirty laundry surrounds it on the floor and if I listen closely, I'm pretty sure I can hear a mouse squeaking away in a corner.

"Check the bag. See if there's a name on there somewhere," John B tells me.

I grimace as I reach my hand below the zipper. I don't know what I'm going to find in there but my mind immediately thinks there's a severed head laying in the bag. In a motel like this, the idea isn't far fetched. But instead, I pull out a coat.

"A jacket," I tell them. Nothing special but at least it's not a head.

John B holds up a pair of shoes. "Denim slides."

I look at the tag and run my fingers through the pockets. There's nothing that tells me who it belongs to. "No name on the jacket."

"It's a nice jacket though," JJ says, walking up next to me and taking it from my hands to look at it. "Definitely over 50."

John B holds up another pair of shoes. "He's got New Balances."

JJ finds a small map on the night stand and holds it out to the light. "Yo, dude, come here. Maybe this is where they were fishing."

John B grabs the map to look at it. "Let me see."

"Right there." JJ points at the part that's circled in red pen.

"No, that's off the continental shelf. That's Big Swell. Nobody fished there."

John B tucks the map in his back pocket and moves to the other side of the room. He picks up a cup and sniffs it, immediately pulling it away with a cringe. "Coffee?" He offers me the mug.

"Yeah," I reply sarcastically, turning away to shuffle through the random pieces of paper on the nightstand. Just a couple of receipts from the donut shop down the street. Nothing that has a name on it. Plus a piece of paper that has random numbers on it.

"Standard. Tissues when you get lonely," JJ says from the bathroom, tossing anything that seems invaluable over his shoulder into the dirty bath tub behind him. "Oh!"

"What?" I look up at him, hopeful that he found something that we actually came looking for. Although, I don't really know what that is yet. "Did you find anything?"

"A really awesome Dopp kit your brother won't let me steal."

John B smirks at him. "Yeah, 'cause we're not stealing shit."

JJ groans and throws the kit over his shoulder with the other crap he's not taking.

John B opens the cabinet under the TV stand. He drops to his knees when he finds a small safe with a padlock protecting it. I walk up behind him and squat next to him, narrowing my attention at the codes he's trying. I roll my eyes at the first one. "One-one-one-one." The safe beeps at the incorrect password. Then he tries "One-one, one, two." Again the safe beeps at us three times.

"Punching shit at random. That will...definitely work," JJ says behind us. He bends down to pull the map back out of John B's pocket to look at it.

"Wait a second," I say, turning back to the nightstand with the paper that had the four random numbers on it. It suddenly makes sense. "Here."

"I don't know. I don't know about the second one," JJ says, more to himself because John B and I are more focused on the safe. "These coordinates, they...wait. My cousin said you could catch swordfish here."

"Six, one, six, six, six," John B mutters to himself.

"Six, six, six. That can't be a good sign," I say.

"Nah, that wouldn't make any sense," JJ shakes his head to himself. "What about a surf spot?"

The safe's lock clicks instead of beeps at us. The metal door pops open, inviting us in. John B looks at me with a proud and giddy grin. I can't help but let out a breathy laugh and open the safe completely.

"Holy shit," John B curses when we finally see what's in the safe. My eyes grow wide at what we find. Stacks of one hundred dollar bills and a gun. The find only confuses me more. If this guy had money like this, why was he staying here? "Uh...JJ."

"Hm?" JJ finally hums after having a long conversation with himself.

"You're gonna want to see this," I say, smirking up at him.

I stand up from my spot so JJ could get a good look. He crouches down next to my brother and the smile on his face is similar to a child on Christmas morning.

He reaches in and instead of grabbing the money, he grabs the gun. I can't say I'm surprised. This is JJ we're talking about.

"You grabbed the gun," John B scoffs but can't hide the grin on his face.

"This is a SIG Sauer!" JJ exclaims, holding it up in the air and admiring it.

"Put the gun back, JJ," John B says.

"This is a fucking spendy gatt, man. Just..." JJ points the gun in front of him and pretends to fire it. "Bam! Bam!" I duck out of the way. I know he's just pretending but I wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally shot it because he was too excited. "Bam! Bam!"

"Jesus JJ," I hiss. "Quit it."

"Hey, think about it! Bam! Bam!"

"We're not stealing anything," John B says.

"Just take a pic of me. Right here," JJ holds the gun to his chest and points it up at the ceiling, posing with it.

"You want me to take a picture of you?" I purse my lips and raise one brow at him.

"Yeah, like..."

"Make our own incriminating evidence? Is that what you're talking about?"

A light tapping from the back window stops us all from our tiny bickering match. All three of our heads turn to the window, confused.

"Wait what was that?" John B says first.

JJ and I follow him to the window. He pulls the curtain to the side and presses his face against the dusty glass. Pope and Kie are jumping up and down and waving their hands like two idiots and pointing at a car parked in the lot. Their voices come through the glass quietly, but just loud enough for us to hear them say, "Cops! Cops! Cops!"

"Shit," John B pushes off the window.

"What is it?" JJ asks.

"Cops."

On cue, there's knocks coming from the other side of the door. "Kildare County Sheriff's Department!"

"Shit," I curse to myself and push myself in front of the boys. The only way we are getting out is through the window. JJ and John B climb out first. JJ holds out his hand for me to take right as the door knobs squeaks.

The jump is too high. All three of us would break our ankles if we tried. The only option we have is to stick it out on the roof and hope the cops don't look out the window.

The roof is small since the window sits on the side of the building. The only way the three of us will fit is if I'm pressed against the siding with JJ pressed behind me. Which is the exact position we're in. My right foot dangles off the side of the roof to make as much room for JJ as I can so we're as flat against the building as possible. I can hear his racing heart against my back and I can't help but wonder if it's from the adrenaline rush of being caught by the cops or being pressed up against me.

I know why my heart's beating like mad.

I try to even my breathing so I can listen in on what's happening inside. The cops' voices are muffled through the walls. I glance at John B who is trying to peek inside. His brows furrow together in confusion at what he's seeing. When he looks up at me, I mouth "what" but he only shakes his head.

JJ tries to shuffle around his footing, which only makes him fumble more and lose his balance. I can't help the gasp that escapes my mouth. I grip on to both JJ and the corner of the wall so neither one of us fall. Unfortunately, as I try to save both of our lives, the gun slips out of JJ's pocket and creates an even bigger scene.

I squeeze my eyes tight and press myself deeper into the rotting wooden siding of the motel, praying that the police think it was only a bird or a squirrel. When I peek one eye open, I see John B grimacing against the building too. He shakes his head again for me and JJ not to move.

Minutes feel like hours as we wait, but eventually we hear the door close and the voices of the police officers on the balcony outside.

I exhale a deep breath and just about dive back into the room head first.

The boys follow me out the door the cops just walked out of and we meet Kie and Pope back at the boat. When they see us approaching, they both let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, that was fun," JJ says as we step back into the boat. My safe spot with nothing but water if we fall off.

"Could have warned us sooner," John B says lightly.

Kie rolls her eyes. "We would have except Pope was on the math team."

JJ turns to look at our geeky friend. "You were on the math team?"

"The cops took everything," John B says before another bickering fest could erupt between JJ and Pope. I turn to look at John B. That's what he must've seen in the room. "Like it was a crime scene."

"Did you guys find anything?" Pope asks.

"Did we find anything?" JJ says with a smirk. "No I don't think so." He holds up the gun and a stack of one hundred dollar bills. His smile grows wider. "Oh, yeah, we did."

Of course he stole them.

Pope and Kie jump up from their seats and look at JJ like he's grown two heads.

"What the hell?" Pope says in awe.

"What the hell?" Kie scowls.

"Dude, chill. Come on," JJ says, relaxed.

"Why take that from a crime scene?" Kie asks. She looks at me for some kind of explanation but I only shrug in response. I don't know what goes on in JJ's head.

JJ shrugs. "Better than cops having it."

"You serious?" Kie looks at John B who only gives her the same response I do.

Pope sits back down with his head in his hands. "I'm going to lose my merit scholarship."

JJ walks over to him and wraps his arms around his shoulders from behind him. "Hey, hey, shh, shh, shh. At least you have us, right?"

"I'm living the nightmare."

I laugh at Pope's theatrics even though I know he's genuinely worried about losing his scholarship - the only thing he has that will get him off of this damn island and make a name for himself. A selfish part of me hopes he loses the scholarship so he's forced to stay here with the rest of us, but I know that will never happen. Pope is the smartest guy I know and deserves to go off to a fancy college and be successful. The scholarship is going to give him that out we all desperately want. He's not going to lose that scholarship. I've already made sure so.

He just doesn't know it.

~ ~ ~

We dock our boat in town to grab something to eat before going back to my house. I am craving fish tacos and no one is going to stop me from getting them. As we wait outside with a couple other kids I recognize from school a couple years younger than us, paramedics and cop cars show up. Another boat pulls into the dock. A coast guard. Four men haul a stretcher off of it and wheel it up to the waiting ambulance. A sheet is drawn over the body so I can't see who it is but a sick thought races through my mind.

"Who's that?" John B asks the girl sitting near us.

"It's Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm," She says. I ignore the look John B casts my way and look at the girl's phone as she holds it out to us. "Check out this pic I got." She smiles sickly at it. "Dead body."

"Insane," I mumble, suddenly feeling sick and not in the mood for fish tacos.

"Holy shit." My brother says.

"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ asks her.

She puts her phone away. "Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady-White. Everyone's out looking for it."

As soon as Kie walks out of the store carrying our food, we book it out of there. JJ tells her what happened on the ride back to the Chateau as I sit and think about how screwed we are if we get caught with the gun and money. They might think we killed him!

"So, um...we didn't see anything," Pope says as we walk into the Chateau. "We don't know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia."

I fall on my couch and lean forward, biting my nails until I reach the nub - a nervous habit of mine. The smell of my tacos makes me queasy. They could have been swimming near that dead body yesterday. Who knows.

"Actually Pope's right for once," JJ says, plopping down on the seat next to me. He takes my hand away from my mouth and leans into the side of the couch, still staring at Pope who looks at him with raised brows. "See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny."

"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie says.

"Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kie," JJ says which only makes Kie's scowl deepen.

"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs," Kie continues. "Otherwise, it's bad karma."

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too," Pope adds. "We gotta go dark."

JJ shrugs. "If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree."

"I don't agree," John B finally pipes up and looks between all of us.

"What? Why?"

"Just think about it," John B says. "This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White?" He shrugs and holds out his hands in surrender. "Just saying."

I don't know what to think but I'm leaning towards JJ's idea. We should keep our mouths shut but roll around in the money that we risked our lives for. Finder's keepers isn't just a saying that dies when you've reached your teenage years.

John B continues, "All right, so think about it Pope. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

Pope inhales sharply. "Prostitution."

"Square groupers, bro," John B says. He looks at JJ who will understand where he is coming from. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean? JJ?"

JJ smirks. "They were straight smugglin'."

John B snaps his finger that's pointing at JJ, "Smuggling. And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

"Hell yeah!" JJ stands up and slaps John B's hand in the Pogue handshake. "Fish on!"

Pope speaks up, "For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it...it probably belongs to someone else."

"Minor details."

"They could come looking for it," I say, not exactly taking Pope's side but just mentioning the risk so that everyone knows what we're up against. We don't know what kind of people could be looking for this shit too.

Pope nods. "Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."

JJ bends down so he's face to face with Pope and holds out the money in front of his face. "Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time."

"I wouldn't say all the time," I say, grinning when JJ looks over his shoulder to glare at me.

"All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal."

"Right. And how exactly do we do that?" Pope says.

When his eyes meet mine, a light bulb ignites in my head. My frown is turned upside down into a smile and I lean forward so everyone can see how exciting I am.

"Kegger?"

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick

#jj maybank fic #jj x reader #jj fic #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagines #outer banks rewrite #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagines #kiara carrera #kie carrera #pope heyward

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years ago

Text

Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

#grand theft auto 5 #gta v #lamar davis #franklin clinton #franklin/lamar #framar #one sided pining #but with a twist #mutual pining #i told y’all frank was hiding sumn

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a-table-of-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Oddworld: Conar’s Ambition, Chapter 9, Draft 1

The twenty-minute way there was relatively uneventful, but there were some cops around interrogating random passers-by. There was even another Big Bro among them, grabbing Scrub and Slig alike by the scruffs of their necks.

“You there!” a smaller police Slig demanded, shoving other pre-checked civilians aside to get to Conar.

“Ugh, here we go,” Conar mumbled. “Yeah, what is it?”

“You know a guy called Wiren? Eyewitnesses said he got green skin…”

He looked Conar up and down.

“…a cracked lens, can you believe…”

Conar turned his head slightly, hopefully enough that the cop didn’t see it.

“…A Slog and Mudokon with ‘im…”

Slim started to step back, trying his best to look like he wasn’t just associating with Conar.

“Okay, buddy, you’re comin’ with me.”

The cop grabbed Conar’s arm and started to pull him away.

“Hey, leggo!” he cried out. “I ain’t Wiren! I got the ID to prove it, and the chip…”

Slim blinked. He didn’t know Sligs were chipped. There was a rumor of Mudokons getting those, but these guys outright knew?

“You think I care?” the cop said. “I got a quota to fill, and a brand-new baton I’ve been dying to test out!”

Conar stopped a moment to look at the baton in his captor’s other hand. It was certainly nice, with silver trimmings and what looked like spikes on one side of it. It even had a handle wrapped in leather.

“Where’d you - ugh – get one of those, anyhow?” Conar asked as he was pulled away.

“What do you care? You ain’t getting one where you’re goin’!”

Conar took a brief look around. The other police he saw was too preoccupied with protesting Sligs and whiny Glukkons to be paying attention to him. They weren’t even caring about Chairman barking, as several other Slogs were drowning him out.

“Good thing I ain’t goin’!” he retorted, taking a good swing and socking his captor straight in the jaw. He went down, falling out of his Pants as he passed out. Conar wasted no time in grabbing the cap and that sweet baton. Searching the Pants, he even found the whistle to call everyone else.

“Hey, I got Wiren!” he called out, blowing on the whistle. “Better take that… that bastard in before he gets up!”

The Big Bro dropped his current suspect and trundled over.

“You sure dis the guy?” he asked, sounding almost disappointed. “I can still shake ‘em all down to check…”

“Look, we got a quota to fill, big guy. You gonna do your job or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Big Bro replied, towering over him. “Juss remember who th’ muscle is, kid.”

With that, he effortlessly slung “Wiren” over his shoulder, giving a curt nod to Conar as he turned to leave. As he spun around, Conar could see the cop’s now-cracked lens. The lights in them were starting to flicker back to life, and they were staring right at him.

“The hell—THERE HE IS! GET ’IM!”

“Wha…?”

“Er, musta thumped ‘im a bit too hard,” Conar managed. “Might take a bit more interrogatin’, y’know?”

“Mem’ry joggin’, you mean,” the Big Bro corrected.

“No, wait!” the cop cried. “It’s me, the guy that drove ya here! Check my chip; it’ll tell ya I’m on the force with ya!”

“You think I care?” Conar asked, grinning wickedly. “We gotta show the boss results, and I got me a new weapon to play with!”

“You bastard! You haven’t seen the last of me, y’hear!?”

“Shut yer yap,” the Big Bro said as the two went through the crowd. “You can talk when we per-say you to!”

“I’m tellin’ ya, I—”

“Shut it.”

Of course, all this noise drew attention. Most eyes were focused on the arrest, but some were still looking at Conar. He adjusted his cap, letting his new baton go slack in his other hand.

“Right, what’re you lookin’ at?” he sneered. “Nothing to see here; show’s over!”

Mudokons, Sligs and Glukkons alike slowly dispersed, forming orderly lines again. A stable equilibrium was reached again, with Mudokons carrying huge packages, Sligs carrying letters and stationery, and Glukkons shooting the breeze when they weren’t too busy looking important. Another cop took one look at Conar and nodded. Some Scrubs were being sent to a Fit-Shape room, where they’d be boxed up and sent to their newest employers.

Slim clutched the bag he had been carrying, eyeing that queue warily.

“Right,” Conar said, “you’re comin’ with me. You’ll… help us get answers.”

Nodding slowly, Slim followed Conar, eyes darting from side to side. As Chairman trotted in front of him, he saw someone. A shorter, greener Mudokon with half a feather on his head, his gaze squarely on Conar. After a moment, he turned back to where the police had gone, and it was clear he was ready to go after them.

Slim didn’t have a moment to lose. He ducked over and grabbed the would-be snitch, dragging him behind a decorative arch.

“What the—Leggo!”

“You planning on ratting us out?” Slim hissed. “You gonna betray a fellow Mudokon?”

The smaller Mudokon squirmed.

“I… I’m sorry, but there’s Brew in store if I turn ya in! Ol’ Lenburr said he’d use some of the cash he’d get to buy the Scrub a round if they got him Wiren, and there he is!”

“That isn’t him,” Slim said.

“It aint?” He looked back. “Coulda fooled me with that description…. Anyway, in’t impersonating a cop a crime?”

“Lemme guess, one that you’d get some brew for reporting?”

“Yeah, yeah!” the shorter Mud rapidly nodded. “A whole shot’s worth!”

“A shot, you say?” Slim grinned, his grip loosening. “How ‘bout a full can, then?”

He gently let go, reaching into his pouch and producing the can of SoulStorm Brew he’d forgotten all about.

“How long’s that been in there?” the Mudokon asked, eyes wide. “W-who’m I kidding, give it here!”

He snatched it from Slim’s hands with frightening speed and strength, nearly slamming Slim into the pillar. Before he knew it, he was watching this Scrub drain the can, his throat carrying gulps that would be large for an Elum. He choked and sputtered, but still persisted in his quest to get his fill.

“Thank you,” he finally sighed, smiling at Slim. “I needed that.”

“So, you’re not gonna tell on me or my buddy?”

“What buddy? I just see a cop.”

“Good lad.”

With one last pat on the Scrub’s shoulder, Slim turned to leave. He heard dry heaving behind him, but chalked it up to the guy having drunken too quickly.

He soon made it back to Chairman, and through him, Conar. While the Slog sniffed and nuzzled his leg, it was disheartening to see that the Slig hadn’t noticed his absence at all. He was still looking forward, shouting for people to get out of the way. He was enjoying this disguise way too much.

“Psst!” he called out, just loud enough for Conar to hear.

“Whadda ya want?” he hissed in response. “Gotta keep this up, ya know.”

“The longer you do this,” Slim said, letting himself be pulled by the wrist by Conar, “the sooner they’ll know something’s up, y’know?”

“You think I don’t know that?” Conar asked. “I’m just tryna get to the front desk, and this is gonna speed it up.”

Sure enough, the two were almost up to the nearest desk, and there was just a Scrub with three enormous packages weighing on his back between them and the clerk.

“I don’t have time for this,” Conar growled, raising a hand.

Slim winced, knowing where this is was going. Poor Mud didn’t deserve getting smacked for just being there.

“You!” Conar demanded, turning to face him. “Help that idiot get outta the way!”

“…Huh?”

“You heard me! Get over there and help ‘im get outta the way!”

He seemed to be oblivious to the odd looks he was getting from others around him. A Slig, a police Slig no less, not taking the opportunity to beat up some sucker? It was almost unheard of! Slim would have to do something if he didn’t want them to get caught.

“Y-yes sir,” Slim nodded, keeping his head down as he joined the other Mudokon, sharing the load.

“W-where you putting’ it again?” Slim asked.

“Outta my way, that’s where! Now move it!”

“Yes boss, got it boss,” Slim frantically said, before pulling the crates and his new companion over towards the wall.

“Ooh, Harv isn’t gonna like this…”

“I don’t think he cares…”

“Damn right I don’t! Not unless Harv bought the law!”

“Er…”

In any case, they were out of the way, and Conar was face to face with the bored-looking Slig clerk, who perked up immediately.

“Ah, what can I do for ya, officer?”

“Yeah, I’m lookin’ for Zeb’s place. Got a few questions for ‘im, and I gotta make a house call.”

“Zeb who?”

“Y’know, the Gluk in charge of the Slog Huts! Quit wastin’ my time and give me his address! You don’t know what’s at stake!”

“R-right…” the clerk nodded, punching away at his computer. “Lessee…”

He peered at the screen for a moment, then turned to Conar.

“Sorry, sir. Looks like he’s out on business for the next week. He’s goin’ to the Fleech Fields headquarters for the Kennel Konvention.”

“Then that’s where I’m going. Gimme the directions, already!”

“Alright, alright, just give me a sec.”

The crusty printer slowly vomited a long dot-matrix sheet, hacking and wheezing as it did so. Finally, the clerk was able to hand Conar a grayscale map, full of ink smears but still readable.

“Right. You’re… off the hook for now, yeah? Keep your nose outta trouble, and all that.”

The clerk nodded, still at attention, but Conar knew he’d be grumbling and making rude gestures behind his back. It didn’t matter; he got what he wanted, and so long as he kept the cop act up for just a little longer, he’d be able to leave without much trouble.

Only problem he could think of is that he’d be expected to leave in one of the squad cars or jeeps. Of course, if he tried to do that, this hustle would crumble in seconds. He got lucky with the Big Bro not paying attention to his story. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to answer the questions he’d be getting.

As they walked out, Conar’s head occasionally jerked back to Slim, as if hoping for something from the Scrub. Slim’s eyes shifted every which way, his sniveling posture presented for the benefit of onlookers. Still, he noticed Conar’s odd glances towards him. He risked leaning forward a little, taking advantage of a harsh pull from his “captor”.

“What’s eatin’ ya?”

“How we gonna get outta here without being caught?” Conar hissed back. “We just found our lead to Zeb - I can’t get arrested now!”

“You aren’t getting arrested,” Slim replied. “Where would that leave me?”

He stepped back, allowing Conar to drag him towards the exit as he thought about the risks. The outlook didn’t seem so good, especially as the actual cops were probably getting impatient waiting for them, but he was sure there were options…

“Over there!” he whispered, pointing at an Employees Only door.

“What? They’ll bust me for sure—”

“Follow my lead,” Slim said, stepping so that Conar was between him and the employee door. Much more loudly, he said “S-sir! Please, there’s nothing in the…the PO’d Box! You… haha… don’t gotta go there…”

“Oh… oh yeah? We’ll just see about that, now will we?”

With that, the two walked straight through the door, to be greeted with piles of envelopes and papers that reached the ceiling, with many blue-capped Mudokons surrounding them. One pulled a letter, causing half the pile to slide down. He sighed before putting the half-eaten envelope into a tube and tapping a few buttons. It shot up to Odd-knows-where, and the Mud slowly picked up the fallen letters.

“All right, ya bums! We’re lookin’ for a PO’d box, and you’re gonna show me where it is!”

The postal workers stared at him blankly, before one had the courage to step forward.

“Er… the post office boxes are out in the lobby. You passed them, sir.”

Conar looked at Slim briefly, before turning back.

“I… need a key. You better have spare ones!”

“Oh, sure thing! You got the box number?”

“Er…” Conar started, tugging Slim down so they could see eye-to-eye.

“I…I’ll never tell!” Slim said defiantly, turning his head away.

The mailmuds all turned away, knowing that whatever the cop did next, it wouldn’t be pretty. A couple turned back, however, when they heard Conar instead growl “Fine! We’re rooting through all o’ them!”

He turned, seeing their surprise at the lack of brutality.

“…Maybe you’ll fit in one by the end of it!” he added, almost sighing in relief after the Muds did. It was amazing, really; they were more scared of a Slig that didn’t hurt them.

“Now then,” he said, turning around fast enough to jerk Slim forward a little bit, “unlock those damn things!”

All the Mudokons in the room tripped over each other racing for the keys, knowing this would be a team effort with so many boxes to search through. Conar didn’t release his grip on Slim’s shoulder until the last one scrambled into the closet.

“There’s the door,” Slim said, pointing past a blockade of papers and packages. He could just barely see the push bar of a fire exit under all the clutter, the rust contrasting with the surrounding whites and yellows.

Without any hesitation, they ran to it, carelessly shoving a banded stack of tax forms and shoving against the door. No good; the bar wouldn’t budge. They pressed with all their might, but nothing worked. Slim kept pushing, checking the hinges and everything.

“Stand back!” Conar yelled, barely giving Slim enough time before he hurled a hefty package at the door.

Bang!

It was loud enough to ring through the entire room and their heads, but they had done it. The door was open, propped with a box spilling rolls and rolls of Moolah coins out into the alley. Conar had no idea who they belonged to, but with the alarms blaring and sprinklers pouring dirty water everywhere, he didn’t have time to care. He just stopped briefly to scoop an armful up.

“…Really?” Slim glared at him, shaking water out of his cap while Chairman panted, shaking drops of himself.

“You never know,” Conar said, before the three ran to the back, taking a left and not stopping for anything.

He soon became aware, however, of a dim red light shining from behind them. They were being watched. He risked a glance behind to confirm, yup, there was a Suppressor just watching them. He used his free arm to fling that spiked baton he stole at it, not caring that his cap slipped off and was being left behind. While he managed to knock it back and crack its lens, it just shook itself and kept following.

“Crap!”

It was too late; the two of them were no doubt already registered, and their location was being fed to a central network.

“Gimme a gun, now!”

Slim scrambled to find the Popper in the bag he’d had Chairman carry, finally finding it and tossing it to Conar. In return, Conar threw the coin rolls towards Slim, who merely dodged them and let them get left behind. Conar’d have to argue about that later, but for now he took aim with a shaky hand.

POP!

The flying camera fell, lens shattering on the concrete as smoke billowed out from the exit wound. Its mechanical whine slowed and faded into nothing, but the duo knew they’d be hearing the whirrs of others flying to their location any minute.

“Quick! We gotta get that Mool—AUGH!”

Conar was yanked into a small gap in the wall, pressing uncomfortably against Slim.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “We finally get some loot, and you go and—”

“Are you crazy?” Slim whispered, eyes pointing to what little of the sky they could see.

Already, they were hearing the air whine, before seeing the rounded metal of another Suppressor hover into view. Thankfully, it was facing away, giving the two of them enough time to shrink back further. Chairman was busy barking at the camera, and Conar cringed. The poor Slog was going to get taken away from them, and possibly re-assigned. What was worse, he had no clue what happened to Sloggies that didn’t attack Mudokons or rogue Sligs.

He risked reaching a hand out to beckon Chairman, but Slim once again pulled him back.

“You don’t want that trackin’ us again, do you?” Slim hissed.

“Right.”

Conar instead reached out with his Popper and hit the camera square in its round back. Once again, it fell to the ground, forcing Chairman to leap back. Conar winced before breaking free of Slim’s grip and running to his Slog.

“You alright, boy?” he asked, patting Chairman on the head. Thankfully, Chairman didn’t look the worse for wear.

“Y’know,” Slim shook his head, “we oughta let… er, rein that guy in. He’s just gonna give us away.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

With a lot of coaxing and just a bit of tugging on leathery skin, Chairman was able to follow Conar into the alcove before another Suppressor came to look. Before he followed, Slim lifted and dragged the corpse of one of the cameras to block the entrance, the dead red eye staring them all down as they waited.

They heard something rapidly beat the air, and a crude engine sputtering. Conar recognized it as the envy of Slackers, the Pants replacement all Sligs hoped for – the Copter. He instinctively scratched Chairman under the chin, knowing this would at least calm any Slog enough to not growl or bark. He just hoped Chairman wasn’t hungry – if he made too much noise, they’d all be a crater within moments.

They waited, heartbeats almost as loud as the Copter outside, before they could hear it fade into the distance.

“What was that?” Slim whispered, after a few moments.

“A flyin’ Slig with a grenade launcher,” Conar replied. “Now shaddup; he could come ‘round again.”

They waited with bated breath. And waited. And waited.

Slim tried to step out, but Conar tried to pull him back into the hiding spot.

“What? I don’t hear him anymore!”

He broke free, stepping out of the hiding spot and scanning the skies. After a few moments, he shrugged and turned back. Conar slowly stepped forward, while Chairman rushed ahead. The Slog’s head tilted this way and that, and he started to sniff the air.

“What’s with him?”

“Must be hearin’ something,” Conar said, looking as Chairman instinctively shrank back. “Could still be the Copter. We oughta move.”

Using Chairman as a general compass away from Slig Copters, they headed out. They kept to shadows and side streets, but had to resort to ducking behind trash and machinery at times. A few times, Conar had to pull Slim aside to keep him from gagging in smog and blowing their cover. It was difficult to find clearer airs to drag his face to, especially since he couldn’t see anything himself, but it was necessary as they approached Coughworth’s Station.

Actually getting into a train to FeeCo, let alone the Fleech Fields, would prove difficult, however. Train security had tightened since whatever it was Abe had done. There were Copters and Slogs everywhere, on top of the regular Slig patrols Conar would have expected. They even saw a Big Bro standing guard in the boarding area.

“Damn,” Conar muttered, looking past a Bounce Vendo, “they got the joint airtight. You got any ideas, Slim?

“…Slim?”

He looked back, and Slim seemed to be fixated on a patch of that green and yellow mold they were warned to keep from getting into Slog Huts. To Conar’s disgust and confusion, Slim raised a shaking hand, gently placing his fingertips on the disgusting and dangerous stuff. His body twitched, his eyes flickered, and he suddenly turned back to Conar.

“We’ll find justice in deeper bogs, and we shall team up with the Slogs.”

“What the--?”

“For now, though, we’ll have to reside in cargo and with Meep crates hide.”

Smack!

Slim fell to the floor, startling a couple of Ratz who just shook their heads and hopped away.

“I think I see why that Spooce crap’s dangerous,” Conar said. “Makes you guys act all weird.”

“Ow…”

Slim’s eyes refocused, and he slowly got back up.

“…I think… I just saw what we gotta do…”

***

“…No.”

“Come on, this’ll be the easiest way in.”

“But...” Conar protested, thrusting his hand towards one of the Meep. “This?! I’d rather go in guns blazing. At least then I’d have some dignity!”

The Meep looked at the green hand and tried to nibble, but just reeled back, trying to spit the taste of burnt tobacco out.

“Yeah, I’m sure these guys would be saluting your corpse. I’ve seen how you all laughed when that Slig tripped in the Recycler.”

Conar raised a saliva-covered hand, opening his mouth to protest, but he relented.

“…Yeah, point. But…”

He looked down at Chairman, who was growling at the livestock.

Slim sighed, taking a look at some of the other crates.

“I dunno, can he maybe go into some Sloggy cage?”

He heard muffled barking coming from a large crate of thick wood. Slim risked a peek through one of the airholes and, yup, there were at least twelve little Slog pups in there, rinning around and snapping at any loose thing in their crate. Slim was quick to jump back before one of them could see him.

“How ‘bout in here?” he asked, seeing as Conar was checking other crates, falling back as a caged Scrab snapped at him. “There’s just a buncha lil’ Sloggies!”

Conar got up, warily looking at the Scrab before turning to the Slog crate. He nodded, and the two of them were able to lift the lid and drop Chairman in. Conar couldn’t help but feel bad as he heard whimpers, but Chairman was quickly calming down as he seemed to notice the Sloggies and there were sniffs and purrs.

“Right, well, we coulda gone in there—”

“You might’ve been able to,” Slim replied, “If you wanna get eaten alive by twelve pups at once. You know how mean they get.”

“Yeah, I guess… Chairman might teach ‘em a thing or two, though. Sloggies are always looking for a boss of some kind.”

“You tell yourself that,” Slim shook his head.

The two of them heard a rumble, and turned to see that the cargo doors of the car were opening.

Conar wasted no time in shoving the lid back onto the Slog crate before grabbing Slim and throwing him on top of the Meep cage. As he kept his gun ready, Slim found the sliding door for the cage and hopped in. From between the bars, he lifted Conar up by the Slig Pants so he could reach the top, too. He tried to ignore the curious Meep licking his face, but he felt the metal weight lift off him as Conar succeeded in climbing up and in with him.

The two of them ducked and waited. Conar kept his possessions clutched tightly to his chest, while Slim just looked up, keeping as flat as he could against the wall.

“This is what I’m reduced to?” whined a Slig. “Watching the Mudokons lift animals into a train?”

“I told you the Blended Meep Chops were a bad idea,” replied another. “Now shut up and supervise before you get us in more trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah… Now, you three! Get these on the loading dock!”

“Y-yessir!”

There was grunting and the sound of wood sliding on concrete. There was hissing, both from some kind of animal and the steam from a loud machine. Metal found purchase on the wooden crate, and something clicked repeatedly before a loud thump signified the delivery.

Footsteps, and the same sounds over again. Metal scraped on concrete, and the Scrab shrieked, the Mudokons whimpering.

“You don’t wanna get bit? Then hurry the hell up!”

Slim could imagine the cold red glare the Mudokons were feeling. In fact, he didn’t have to imagine; he could see the light shining off him from Conar’s visor. He looked up at the window their crate had, and quickly tapped Conar’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he hissed. “Turn those goggles off!”

“…I can’t,” Conar replied. “For some reason, the damn things stay on until we take ‘em off.”

“Well, take ‘em off!”

“The hell I will!” Conar said, his louder words thankfully covered by Meep bleats.

“Shh! If they see it, it’s over!”

“I’ll just…”

Conar was about to say “empty the bag and put it over his head”, but all his stuff would be out in the open, and any idiot who worked with animals knew you do not leave things out in front of them unless you want them to get chewed up.

“…Fine. But don’t look. You won’t like it.”

Slim rolled his eyes, but turned away. Conar still felt weird, even though the only eyes on him were the dull, uninterested ones of the Meep. He let the goggles slide off his tentacles, landing on the floor with a clatter, though he was quick to snatch them before anyone else got to them.

“You can look now,” he said, cupping his hands over his eyes.

“Shaddup! I think someone’s comin’!”

Indeed, they could hear the Mudokons pant and gasp for air as they approached yet another crate, and all the contents shook and struggled to keep balance as they began to move.

Conar even forgot to cover his eyes up as he rushed to grab his things before they came into view of anyone looking in, or worse, got eaten by Meep. There was little light, but it was enough for Slim to confirm that yes, Sligs just have small, beady eyes, and nothing as horrific as they always suggested.

“Man, this thing’s heavy,” one of the Mudokons griped. “You sure this one’s just Meep?”

Conar was quick to lean back against the corner, re-cupping his eyes and holding his possessions tightly. Slim scurried to the other corner, watching their window as best he could.

He could see a yellow eye peering in, scanning over at the dopey Meep. He instinctively shrank back, hoping against hope that neither of them would be seen. His eyes widened as he saw a couple from the flock hop towards Conar. If the Scrub’s gaze followed them, the jig was up.

He only realized how tense he was when a bleat made him flinch. But who could blame him? He could have doomed himself and the only halfway decent Slig over some mold hallucination.

“The hell are you doing?” another Mudokon hissed. “You want us to get smacked around?”

“Shaddap and load the meat onto the train already!” the supervisor chimed in. “I’ll be glad to pack you with them!”

“Y-yessir!”

The two stowaways finally breathed again as they felt their crate lift, the mechanical whirrs and hisses of the claw easily covering up Conar’s groaning and Slim’s nervous laughter.

Conar was quick to slap his old visor on. It wasn’t as state-of-the-art, but they had a record of those stolen goggles. With any luck, they wouldn’t be looking for a helmet that was outdated minutes after its release.

As the familiar red flooded his vision, his gaze turned to his bag, and the Meep curiously looking at some Moolah that spilled out. It licked its lips, and Conar sprang into action.

“Be damned if some flea-bitten mutton eats my cash—Oof!”

He and several other passengers fell over, the drop onto the train car floor being jarring to all. Fortunately, this meant his Moolah wasn’t munched. Unfortunately, several bills, ammunition, foodstuffs, and the other pair of goggles scattered all over the crate.

“Don’t you dare!” Conar shouted, on his feet in an instant. He shoved some Meep aside, ignoring their bleats of protest as he scooped up as many of his things as possible. He didn’t have to worry about anything getting eaten, thankfully, since the Meep were more concerned with huddling in one corner from the sounds of crates crashing down everywhere around them. There was still much to load.

Slim would have been helping out, truly, but the smell was getting to him. The Meep musk was bad, but the real problem was the amount of pesticide that carelessly doused their wool. He sure hoped the mutton was cleaned before it was packaged, though something in him doubted it, given how Slog chow was. As it was, the one open window in this crate wasn’t helping the odor any, especially as he could see the fumes seeping in. As such, he sat and tried to enjoy the Slig scrambling to pick things up like he would have to do back home.

Conar hardly noticed any of this. All he was focused on was getting everything together, and it was going well. Thankfully, he only seemed to lose a couple of pre-processed foods to the Meep, along with about half their wrappers. If all else failed, he could maybe make some lamb chops himself if they needed food.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he muttered, shaking his head at Slim.

All that Mudokon was doing was sitting there and covering his mouth. He even pulled away when Conar approached, like he was trying to escape him. He couldn’t figure out why; Conar didn’t engage in excessive beatings like the others or anything. It couldn’t have been the smell; sure, it stank a little, but were Mudokons really so affected by that kind of thing?

The two of them felt their crate shake a couple of times, as more boxes were being carelessly dropped into the car. It was keeping the Meep too startled to even chew on the threadbare straw on the floor, and Conar had to sit rather than bother to keep his balance.

“Well, this seems to be working out okay,” Slim managed, slowly adjusting to the smell.

“Yeah,” Conar nodded. “Gotta hand it to ya, your weird mold trip got us a ride.”

They sat there in silence, listening to several animals protest as more were loaded on.

“Shoulda brought a radio or somethin’,” Conar finally said, after about five minutes. “I know a TV woulda been out of the question, but… something.”

“Hmm?” Slim looked up from tracing the grooves in the wood. “Yeah, I guess that would’ve been okay, but we could’ve gotten caught if you had one blaring, y’know?”

“I mean, I guess, but this quiet sucks! I’m usually watchin’ Name That Trauma or something by now! Maybe listening to something by Marley Mince, I dunno! Just not a zoo of RuptureFarms rejects!”

Slim stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.

“Man, you Sligs got TVs and music when work was done?”

Conar suddenly remembered the room in that dingy motel he found Slim in. Dirt floors, darkened rooms that were more like closets, and tons of graffiti.

“Er…”

“Why’re you going on a quest to rob Zeb, anyway? Sounds like you had it pretty good.”

Slim was casual about it, but Conar was getting an awkward feeling that he thought was beaten out of him when he was young. It was un-Slig-like, but he didn’t feel like he could laugh at Slim’s situation. Sure, Conar had it bad, but so did these Mudokons, really. He just hadn’t really thought about it until now.

And his memories of that game show were a lot less funny now that he was hanging out with Mudokons more. And some of the songs on the radio… and his former supervisor job…

“I mean,” Slim continued, breaking the silence, “I guess I can’t complain. Whatever your plan is, it let me out of my job too. So, uh, thanks.”

Conar grunted.

“And hey,” Slim added, grinning, “I’m glad I’ll stick it to Zeb, too!”

“Heh, yeah, that’ll be somethin’.”

A loud whistle blared, interrupting their conversation. It was joined by a chorus of bleats, howls, and roars, and the two of them covered their ears for a moment. Thankfully, it was over soon, and they could feel the train start to move.

Conar stood up and walked back to the window, looking out. He wasn’t expecting much, and, well, the view delivered. He scanned over the crates, looking for the Slogs, but he couldn’t see much past else other than several bird cages, with a caged Scrab snapping in vain at them.

He wondered why he was feeling less amused and more sympathetic to the scene.

It seemed particularly interested in one with a couple of Ratz at the top of its cage, though they seemed less concerned about the Scrab than they really should have been, their glowing green eyes focused on Conar.

“What’re you looking at?”

He heard Slim hum inquisitively, and realized he was talking to a rat like it could understand him. It was one thing to talk to a Slog, but talking to some pest? What was he doing?

He did his best to avoid eye contact with Slim as he sat back down. Looking into the vacant eyes of the Meep wasn’t much better, though, so he turned to his bag to see if he could get a smoke. With all the action he was seeing, a worrying amount of… ash?...leaves?…preservatives?...

Whatever Vykkers rolled into that paper, a lot of it had spilled out, and there were several unfurled papers. To Conar’s horror, he could only see two, maybe three cigarettes that were at least partially intact. He just had to hope to Odd he could make these last. As such, he picked the half-torn one and started to feel around for that lighter he found in that junkyard. It was a nice one, if all scratched up, with a decal displaying the Slig Barracks logo. It brought back wonderful memories.

Click.

It even still had fuel in it; Conar had to wonder just how much better the newer lighter the original owner got. He salivated thinking of it, and the smoother taste of smoke that guy was probably getting.

He was distracted from his decadent fantasy as Slim extinguished the flame.

“The hell are you doing?!” he demanded. “I need this!”

“You tryin’ to cause a fire? There’s so much here that can burn!”

“C’mon, I haven’t had a Lungbuster all day!” Conar protested, flicking the lighter back on after a few tries. “I promise I’ll be careful or whatever.”

“At least lean outside while using that crap,” Slim said, stepping back again. “Maybe the fumes’ll bother someone else for once.”

Conar rolled his eyes, leaning out to watch the Scrab as he lit up once more. The taste of pollution went down as smoothly as any snack, and the smell of the smoke billowing from his mouth was a welcome relief from all the animal smells around him. His nerves calmed just a little, and he was better able to think of what their next move could be.

Sure, they could ride all the way to FeeCo in this pen, but what would they do after that? If they stayed, they’d get caught for sure, but where could they even go to evade that? They had no idea what or who was in the other cars, and there’d be no way to escape view from anyone else…

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud ringing from above, followed by a violent torrent of water. Animals screeched all around, and he could hear the Meep behind him panicking. Some huddled around himself, and if Slim’s protests were anything to go by, he was getting mixed in the herd too.

“Dammit, put that thing out before anyone comes in!”

“Alright, alright!”

He put out the cigarette on the outer wall of the box before flicking it away, trying to aim towards the Rat that was still staring at him. While he missed, the Rat still hopped away, going towards a large screen.

It was labeled “Estimated Product Lost”, and showed a greenish-yellow screen with the words “Still Rare” on it, with a cartoon thumbs-up next to it. As the smoke started to fizzle out, the monitor changed to a deeper green, with the words “Fresh and Ready” replacing the previous ones. A picture of a happy(?) Scrab hopping into an oversized meat cleaver complemented the display.

Conar hummed to himself, seeing the door next to it. There was, as he might have expected, no handle on the inside, but there was a large window where another guard Slig still had his back turned to them. Honestly, Conar couldn’t blame him; if this was anything like the Slog Hut, there were all kinds of false alarms that went away in seconds. Still, part of him was appalled; there was a known terrorist who took out the head honcho and this guy was just slacking off.

Well, not that he could complain about that. After all, if someone did come in, he and Slim would have to stay in the Meep crate for Odd only knew how long.

“Hey, looks like the coast’s clear. You wanna see if we can find a good spot, or do you wanna sit around in Meep crap for the rest of the trip?”

Slim shot up quicker than a Sloggie on steroids at the notion, shoving members of a confused flock aside to reach the wall with Conar.

“Open that lid, willya?” he grunted, hoisting Conar up. “I’ll chuck you over!”

“Don’t just grab me like that,” Conar grumbled, shoving the lid just enough for it to slide off. He didn’t have time to grumble for much longer, though, as he was tossed over, landing with a heavy thud!

He groaned, grateful for his pseudo-helmet as he climbed to his feet again. He stepped back a little, looking up just in time to see that Scrab trying to snap at him instead of the birds.

“Hey, uh, get my stuff out, will ya?” he called back. “Or just my gun, that’d be good, too.”

“Yeah,” Slim grunted, clambering over the wall. “Got as much as I could.”

Conar’s things fell to the floor with a loud clatter, someplace to his left. He flinched, and from the stomps and snarls, the Scrab was taking this as some kind of challenge. He scrambled to get his bag, hoping to get his gun.

Clang!

He looked up from the bag to see the animal had tipped its oversized birdcage over, and was thrashing in the narrow thing, trying in vain to either pick itself back up or snap at something. It caused one of the bird’s cages to wobble, leading to a whole lot of squawking.

“Shit!” Conar hissed, looking over at the door.

The guard stirred, turning to the side. A red lens glared right at a frozen Conar for an eternity, the two visors locked in an extended gaze. After no movement for several moments, Conar risked a step forward. No response.

“Sleeping on the job,” he concluded. “Prolly thick doors, too.”

He could hear Slim allowing himself to breathe behind him. Conar himself gave a short laugh at this.

“Y-yeah, but we still got that, er, Scrab to worry about, right?”

As if on cue, the Scrab pushed against the floor, cage scraping closer as Slim jumped back to avoid its new biting range.

“Don’t think he’s gonna do much,” Conar shrugged, watching the animal pathetically flop and snarl. “Now hurry up, let’s get outta view!”

Finding a squawk-filled crate to hide behind was thankfully not hard. There were plenty of those to go around, and the thick wooden walls were better cover from whatever claws or teeth would mince them. On one side, there were crates of Fleeches and Riot Slugs. On the other, boxes full of Fuzzle cages and Meetles, almost obscured the Paramite cages on the other side, and the mewls of the Fuzzles did little to hide the hissing and squealing of the hand-faced monsters.

“Any relation?” Slim asked with a wry smile.

“Shaddup,” Conar chuckled.

He punched Slim in the arm, and to his surprise, it wasn’t even enough to bruise him. Damn, something about this whole thing was making him soft.

It still had an effect on Slim, though. He immediately started to duck, hands halfway up to his head, before he realized what he was doing. He shot back upright, groaning at his conditioned response.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he finally said, after a long, awkward moment. “Old habit, I guess.”

“��Forget about it,” Conar replied.

He was glad for the visor he had on; Slim wouldn’t know he wasn’t making eye contact.

“Anyway,” Slim perked up, “Maybe we could look for Chairman now?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

They still crept carefully as they checked the labels and listened for barks, not only due to the risk of some kind of patrol or security, but also because there were many cages with creatures eyeing them. They didn’t know if it was wariness or hunger, but it wasn’t worth the gamble.

After a few minutes, they heard the smoke alarm go off again, and cold, acrid water started raining on them. They retreated under a carelessly stacked box and looked up at the sprinklers, trying to ignore the ramblings of Chippunks above them.

“A fire?” Conar asked. “What could’ve—”

“No, no,” Slim mused, looking at the straw-covered floor, the wooden crates, and noting the smells not from the water. “With all this around, it woulda spread, right?”

“You’re right,” Conar nodded, readying his gun. “We ain’t alone.”

#oddworld conar's ambition #draft 1 #Oddworld #fic #oddworld conars ambition full chapter #Chapter 9

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spacebunnysstars · 5 years ago

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Can I please request a scenario with the Bois helping mc sleep? (It's 3 am and I cannot for the life of me fall asleep 😭😭😭) thank you bby 🥺💕

Of course honey 🥺💗 I understand I have such a hard time sleeping so this was nice to write I hope it’s okay that I smooshed Beel and Belphie together and I hope you enjoy them (and I hope you get a better nights sleep soon)💗✨🌸

Platonic sleeping scenarios for the bros UwU

Lucifer

This man has a hard tome sleeping too;; even though he’s one of the most powerful demons in all the devildom he is still haunted by the paperwork on his desk.

He is pleasantly surprised by your knocking on his bedroom door (he’s more so glad that it isn’t because mammon, being the chaotic ass hat he is, has caused trouble again)

He invites you in and offers you some warm tea as you sit on the sofa both in you pyjamas discussing your stay in the devildom so far.

When a small yawn escapes your lips that’s when lucifer decides it is time for the both of of you to get to bed.

He invites you to stay in his bed as he did offer to help you fall asleep it’s not like you haven’t napped on his bed when you wanted to get away from his brothers for a bit.

As the two of you where laying down he’d trace patterns on your back, his touch was surprisingly gentle and even through the fabric of your pyjamas his fingers felt like they where leaving silk trailing behind them.

You soon drifted of to dream land his fingers slowly coming to a stop as he realises you fallen into a deep slumber whispering to himself “works every time.” Proceeding to turn over reminded of sweet memories of helping his younger siblings fall to sleep whenever they where unable to fall asleep on their own.

Mammon

Being the cheeky ass that he is, he was originally intending on plotting out his new money making scheme with you to patch up the holes that his brain left open for disaster to fill.

But seeing the tired look that dawned his humans features filled his heart with overwhelming sadness; knowing he was the cause of their current state.

“Tonight the great mammon is here to lull ya to sleep! Now ain’t you a lucky little human!” Mammon stated in a softer version of his usually snarky tone as a small smile adorned your features.

Mammon leaped onto your bed next to you, rolling around causing the bed to creak as he got comfortable on his side resting his chin on one of his hands wiggling his eyebrows at you.

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you playfully push his chest. “Ya stupid human I came here to help ya sleep not keep ya awake” he mumbled lightly flicking your head.

After a while of your sleepy eyes staring into his blue ones he started to run his fingers through your hair gently scraping at your scalp as he did so. Sinking into the feeling you began to feel even drowsier until you eventually settled into a deep slumber.

Mammon’s face almost angelic as he looked over you sleeping form as he gently ruffled your hair and softly smoothing it back down. Leaning down pressing a kiss as light as a feather to your hair. He then proceeded to get up to return to his room (knowing full well that he is a fidget and will likely wake you) whispering to you as he left “sweet dreams MC see ya tomorrow.”

Levi

Having forgotten how human his true friend is he was upset when you got up to leave to tired to explain yourself “we haven’t finished all 50 episodes yet!! You can’t go!” Levi whined at you having paused the anime the two of you where watching.

After explaining that you needed to sleep Levi understood,, your a human after all you need you sleep to function. You end up walking back over to where the two of you where sat and plonked down resting your head on Levi’s thigh.

“W-w-what are you doing!?” Levi was panicked by you action “I’m gonna sleep here so when the anime is over you can wake me up and tell me all about it” you smiled at him.

Your warm smile relaxed him instantly and he turned the anime back on and continued watching the soft sound of your breathing was the soundtrack the anime needed.

The anime eventually finished and as the credits where rolling he looked over your sleeping form desiring to let you sleep “I’ll tell you all about the ending when you wake up but ahh it was amazing... thank you for staying with me.”

Satan

You where hanging out with Satan in his room, it was late and you where watching a murder mystery documentary. It’s not that it wasn’t interesting you where just tired but with the complete inability to sleep.

Satan quickly caught wind of your tired eyes and turned off the tv getting up and grabbing his jacket whilst tossing one of his jumpers at you. “Come on let’s go out for a walk” he smiles at you.

You climb off of his bed almost tumbling over a stack of books followed by Satan’s soft laughter reminding you to be careful. You both leave his room and head towards the front door. You both popped on your shoes and out the door you went (luckily for the both of you lucifer was too busy with paperwork to even realise you had left.)

The nights in the devildom are surprisingly quiet only the soft sound of the cool breeze and yours and Satan’s feet could be heard, it was a comfortable silence with no need for conversation.

You found really relaxing just to walk at the side of the blond demon letting the wind blow your worries away. The two of you ended up waking into a field of soft grass and small wild flowers, it was beautiful.

Both you and Satan stopped knowing you had found the perfect place to rest your legs. You laid down on the grass staring up at the sky sparkling with stars. Satan watched over you for a moment before joining you.

Being the avatar of wrath you’d never expect his presence to be so comforting and calm, it was one of the qualities you admired about him. Lost in thought about the calm demon laying next to you, your eyes grew hazy with sleep as you felt yourself drifting off.

Satan soon realised the rise and fall of your chest had slowed knowing full well you had fallen asleep. He moved over to you and lifted your sleeping figure in his arms and took you back home.

He took you back to your room and removed your shoes before tucking you into your bed. He sat down on the floor leaning against your bed frame an arm and his head rested on your mattress as he slowly dozed off beside you.

Asmo

It had been a long exhausting day at RAD and you just wanted go to bed; you had stayed late to help lucifer with some student council stuff and it ended up running until quite late. You walk home seemed to take forever; trudging along you felt as though the weight of the world was on your shoulders just to spite you.

Your limbs where achey and sore by the time you reached the front door, with an exasperated sigh you used up the last of your energy to push open the unusually heavy door. On the other side of the door was the usually chirpy Asmodeus tapping his foot with an irritated frown planted on his still beautiful face.

“MC you’re late” he whined turning to look at you the irritation leaving his face to be replaced by a look of sympathy. “Oh honey bunny you look exhausted” he stated as he wrapped his arms around your head pulling your face into his chest as his fingers stroked through your hair.

“Come, let’s fix you up” he smiled taking your hand in his own and slowly walking you to his room. He sat you down on the edge of his bed and like a burst pipe your emotions all exploded at once tears streaming down your face.

He pulled you further onto the bed cradling you and stroking you hair until you wave of emotions had slowed. He gently wiped away the stray tears stuck to your face knowing full well how delicate a tear stained face could be.

“Do you want to talk about it;; I could paint your nails for you?” He offered wanting to help in any way he could. You shook your head and told him you just wanted to rest, and that is what the two of you did as his manicured nail massaged your scalp.

Rather quickly you found asmo’s gentle touch working you into a deep slumber. He eventually removed is fingers and sighed “I guess I should tell lucifer off on your behalf. You really shouldn’t over work yourself even if you are just trying to help.” He gently pet your hair before leaving to give lucifer a piece of his mind.

Beel & Belphie

It was quite late and Beel invited you to the his and Belphie’s room to have some pizza with them. Although it being quite late you happily obliged making your way to the twins room with your blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a pillow in your arms you knock on their door opened very quickly by Beel smiling holding a whole slice of pizza in his mouth.

You step inside to find both of their beds had been pushed together to make a giant extra comfy bed for the three of you to enjoy pizza and each others company of course. You dived on the giant bed and greeted Belphie with a smile, none of you had to say anything mostly because you didn’t have anything to talk about you just enjoyed the pizza and the twins presence.

Being with the two of them was always warm and cozy you felt so lucky to have two absolute sweethearts as your best friends. The three of you ended up having mindless conversation about the most random things and the three of you would laugh together.

You eventually started do feel really sleepy as did Belphie and Beel. You all snuggled up together running you fingers through both boy’s hair. Beel was surprisingly the first to fall asleep, a puddle of drool forming on his pillow. Belphie ended up wrapping his entire body around you resting his head on your chest as he slept.

You felt so at peace with the two of them and you fell asleep shortly after the twins. Little did you know you’d wake up with Beel sucking your thumb and Belphie’s legs on your face. Not that you mind it was always rather funny to wake up to.

There you go! UwU I hope you liked that and if you have any other requests or suggestions/comments don’t be afraid to pop an ask I hope you have an amazing day/night! Stay safe 💗✨🌸

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bxthharmon · 5 years ago

Text

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XIII || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words:2715

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: abuse / being a fugitive???

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy. teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: In a desperate attempt to sort everything out, Y/N finds herself in the ones place she least expected to be

A/N: ok ok ok i promise im writing my requests oops anyway love yall send more requests cuz im always bored. Also, yall dont understand how sad i am that this is ending :( BUT started writing another series so lemme know if u wanna get tagged in that <3

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

“John B, what are we doing at the police station?” JJ asked, breaking the stuffy silence that was consuming the vehicle.

“Somebody’s gotta tell them what happened.” He justified.

“Need me to come in, like, as a witness?” you asked. He shook his head.

The heavy quiet was broken by Pope, coughing like he’d inhaled chili powder. “Easy there, chief.” JJ reprimanded, and you took the blunt away from your friend. “Alright,” JJ leaned through to John B, “I’m just gonna be real with you right now,” You watched his red cap, “You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. It’s fundamental, just like my old man always told me, you should never, ever trust cops. No matter what the circumstance is.”

“Your old man’s an abusive liar.” Kie countered.

“I agree with JJ.” Pope spoke, and you frowned, holding back the giggle in your lips as he continued, “Fuck the police.”

“You going to the dark side now?” Kie snarked.

“When was the last time the police ever helped us?” He countered.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B interrupted, “Or tried to, at least.”

There was a moment of thick quiet before he continued.

“They need to know.”

He looked around, none of you willing to argue as he got out of the car and entered the station. You looked over to JJ, who was determinedly ignoring your stare. You wondered what the fuck was going on because last time you checked, you had been on good terms with him. You sighed, looking out the window and waiting impatiently for John B to return so that the awkward silence would end. You took a hit from the blunt you’d taken from Pope, letting the smoke swirl around in your lungs before gently blowing it out, ignoring the frustrated looks you got from the other three.

Next thing you knew, everyone was shouting and the car was accelerating, the officer trying to open the car door discarded as the shocking adrenaline rush took ahold of the speeding car. Eyes wide, you took another hit from the blunt.

“Good news for residents of the Outer Banks, Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to 95% of the area, should be functional within 24 hours.”

Sirens passed, but in the hazy atmosphere of the car, no one moved, other than to make sure the car didn’t turn. Pope and Kie sat in the front, JJ and John B to your right, seats reclined as you all attempted whatever kind of rest was possible on the worried heat of the day.

“And still no arrest for the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-”

Kie clicked the radio off, glancing over at the three of you in the back.

“Let’s game this out.” JJ suggested, “Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but… who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us? So the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person, and the accused…” he looked over to his friend, “is John B, who is pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment.”

“Thanks.” came the hoarse voice of the boy across from you.

“Shit.” you muttered, running a hand over your face and sitting up straight for the first time in hours. You twisted so that your back was leaning on the back oh Kie’s seat, and you were facing the three boys.

“Okay, man, Yucatan, alright?” JJ said, swiftly avoiding your arm as you stretched, “I’m saying, that’s the only option, what other option do you have?”

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B shook his head. “Sarah’s gonna bail me out.”

“She did witness the whole thing.” Kie pointed out.

“So did I?” you reminded, “So what? She’s gonna snitch on her brother for her dick appointment of the week? No offence, bro.”

“It’s not happening.” JJ reiterated, “We’ve gotta get you off the island.”

“The ferry.” Pope said, “It’s the only way.”

“Exit stage left while you still can.” JJ added. “Before the entire island is on lockdown.”

“Get down.” You reminded him softly, and you all ducked. You reached for JJ’s hand, but his simple gesture of pulling it away made you feel embarrassed, unsure of whatever was going on between you. You turned away from him, looking out the window again.

“Sarah’s not a pogue, John B.” Pope reminded.

“Yeah, you can’t stay here, man.”

“Let’s go then.” You muttered, and Pope pulled out, driving carefully to the docks. They were crowded, and you got out before anyone could argue, thankful for even two minutes out of the suffocating atmosphere. You walked to the sign, reading the notice about the ferry closure and ripping the wanted poster off its staples. You walked back to the car, reading it as you reached the vehicle, then passing it through Pope’s window and shaking your head solemnly. You got in next to JJ as they passed the paper around, JJ making a joke.

“Okay, so the whole island’s looking for John B right now.” Pope said.

“Well at least you know how much you’re worth.” You joked, receiving a frustrated look from Kie.

“Congratulations, John B,” JJ smirked, “you’re famous.”

“We gotta get to the HMS. We need small, no running lights-” kie began to reason, but John B cut her off.

“It’s at the Chateau, Kie.”

“And I wonder if the cops have got the entire place staked out.” JJ said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Let me think. Yeah, no, they definitely have that place locked down.”

“Hey Jay?” you nudged him, an idea forming, “Like, a couple of weeks ago, you mentioned your dad’s boat? The Ghost? Spectre?”

“The Phantom!” JJ and Pope caught on.

“He still got it?” Pope asked.

“Maybe.”

“You could get that right up the coast, no problem.” Pope said.

Bickering followed, and then the sudden realisation that Pope’s car was on the poster. Suddenly, someone was hitting the window and the car wasn’t starting and everyone was shouting. The car lurched forwards, straight into another car, and then took off, driving away as people watched, shocked.

The car sped forwards, crashing around as you all shouted for Pope to stop, his high ass was definitely not fit for driving.

“JB,” you shouted over everyone, “you need to get out.”

Pope braked, all of you thrust forwards with the force of it, and you found yourself pushing John B out of the car while JJ shouted instructions at him.

The two field tents were massive, rows of chairs on either side as swarms of people worked, talked, and typed. You wandered around for a minute or so, watching the officers interact, always being pushed back when you tried to talk to anyone. You could feel the eyes of the security team burning into you as you looked for Shoupe. Eventually, you saw him, talking to a taller man in an SBI windbreaker. You walked towards them slowly, finalising your plan in your head.

Shoupe saw you, and stepped aside from the conversation so that he was facing you, the agent turning as well, a frown forming as he took in your scruffy attire and the faint smell of JJ’s weed that was clinging to your clothes. You looked between them, “Uh, Officer Shoupe, I have some info.” You greeted.

“Who are you?” The agent interrupted, looking you over again.

“Um, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I know John B.” you clarified, and he nodded.

“What have you got for us?” he asked, and you breathed in, and out, pinching yourself slightly.

“I saw everything on the airstrip.”

The SBI agent introduced himself as Bratcher, then they sat you down in one of the tents, letting you explain what you saw, uninterrupted, and asking questions when they saw fit. They told you that your account, while plausible, was a hard one to argue, especially against Ward Cameron, unless you had a second account to back it up.

Sarah Cameron, you thought. Talk to Sarah.

After taking your statement, they left you to sit in the field tent, shivering in the cold breeze and no coat, watching them call your dad, listening out for any relevant information you could gather.

You could feel their eyes on you, discussing what to do with the information you had for them. An officer, you couldn’t remember her name, had draped a jacket over your shoulders at some point, then led you away while the SBI agent gave a briefing.

You waited at the end of the tent, looking for anything to cease your worry and boredom.

Then you saw her. She looked as lost as you had, trying to work out who to talk to, just like you had a few hours ago. You stepped towards her.

“Sarah?” she turned to you, going to hug you, but an armed officer stepped between you, pulling you apart. “No, she’s my friend!” you struggled towards her, another officer holding her away from you, both of you shouting.

“What’s happening?” Bratcher asked, all of you stopped struggling.

“This is Sarah Cameron,” you explained, “she was there, like I said.”

He looked between you, and nodded, asking her if she was able to make a statement. They took her away, sitting her down at the other end of the tent, letting her talk. You saw Ward approaching.

“Y/N?” he frowned, and you raised your eyebrows.

“How do you know who I am?”

“Sarah’s mentioned you.” he looked around, “have you seen her?”

“Oh, is she no longer locked away in her room?” He tensed, confusion and anger contorting his features.

“How do you know about that?”

“Can’t say.” You said, “Not a great parenting strategy, just saying.”

He leapt forwards, a madness in his eyes that you’d never seen before. He grabbed you by the throat, screaming in your face while you clawed at his grip. Within seconds, other bodies were pulling him away. Your panic subsided, and you looked at Bratcher. You could use the situation to your advantage.

“See what I mean?” you yelled, pointing at him as you faced Bratcher, “He’s crazy! I told you, he attacked Big John, he’s the reason this is all happening!”

Bratcher sighed, signalling for his men to take away the older man. “I have to say, Miss Y/L/N, your story is making more sense. Two stories matching perfectly, his temper. But we talked to your father, you’re free to go, we’re almost done with Sarah.”

“What’s going to happen to John B?”

He sighed, “We’ve gotta bring him in, you understand that.”

You nodded, “I hope I shed some truth to the situation.”

You walked away, leaving the jacket on a chair as you passed, sending a reassuring smile to Sarah on your way out, you wandered the streets, finding your way to JJ’s house.

By some kind of miracle, you arrived at the same time as Kie and JJ. He was getting out of the car when he noticed you, and instead of making any move to hug you as normal, he froze.

“Look, JJ,” you sighed. “Why are you mad at me?”

You stood opposite him in his front yard, staring at the way he sighed, an odd mix of relief and defeat adorning his features. “I saw some texts, from Tyler.”

You nodded slowly. “I rejected him, if that’s what upset you. Since I met you, no guys have been the same, you know?”

His eyes pulled in slightly, as if realising that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one-sided. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Yeah.” you glanced at the floor, “I don’t really know why. Things were weird between us and I just - I missed my old life. But it was like, the confirmation I needed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love you.”

His jaw dropped slightly in shock, running you words over in his head, working out whether you were genuine. You began to step back, and before you could think about what had just happened, he was kissing you.

It was urgent, emotive, full of everything that you couldn’t put into words. You broke apart, still slightly shocked at the confession. You looked at his front door.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He looked to Kie, who was pretending she hadn’t watched, and nodded apprehensively, slipping a hand into yours and leading you to the door. He opened it, leading you through into the mess. You stepped over shoes and bottles as he led you in, calling out for his dad.

You ventured into the living room, seeing his dad passed out on the sofa, a half empty bottle of something on the table next to him. “Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” a snore sounded, “Dad?”

You looked down, noticing the sleeping pills and picking them up, showing the bottle to the blond boy next to you. Watching him, you could practically feel the hurt resonating off him, masked by his strong resolution as he looked back at his dad. Noticing the chain around his neck, between you you found a pencil and pin to get the keys with.

You stood a couple of feet behind him as he knelt down, preparing himself.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you.”

The voice was a murmur, almost soft, and your heart was beating in your throat. You knew what he was capable of.

“You’re back.”

This time, Luke had more clarity in his voice, and was more awake. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Just checkin’ in.” JJ said, backing away as the older man sat up, taking a swig from a beer bottle.

“School out already?”

“What?” JJ frowned.

“Did you ditch? It’s alright, you can tell me.”

JJ nodded slowly, “Yeah. I hit the break, you know?”

“I hated school too. My boy!” Luke chuckled. You felt intrusive, like you were standing in on a moment that wasn’t yours to see. But the moment felt intimate, hitting you where it hurt as your eyes went glassy. “You know what? Listen, hey.” he stood shakily, “Hey, look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes.” JJ hummed, fear mixing into his pain, “But sometimes I - I see your mother in you, and it gets me a little tweaked, you know?”

You wiped a tear away, the scene before you hurting more than you would like to admit. The man looked at you, and you could see JJ’s shoulders tense.

“You got a girl?” he didn’t look away from you.

“Uh, yeah, Y/N.” JJ looked over at you, worry seeping into his eyes.

“You treat my boy better than I could, okay?” You nodded slowly, more tears slipping down your face.

“Of course.” your voice broke slightly, “I love him.”

“Me too.” His head turned back to his son, “I love you, son.” He pulled JJ in, “Come here, I love you. I love you, son. I love you.”

More than anything, you wanted to call him out. Tell him that if that was true, then he wouldn’t hurt JJ like he did. But whatever this moment was, it wasn’t the right one to do so.

You could hear JJ sniffling, letting his hands find their way onto his father’s back. When he spoke, he sounded like he wanted to be stronger than he felt, his voice thick, pained, struggling. “Love you too, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for.” His father muttered, the sleeping pills pulling him back out of consciousness, slowly as ever. JJ helped him down onto the sofa. “You’re a good boy.” came the murmur.

JJ let out a shaky breath, not sparing you a glance as he pulled the chain from his father’s neck and stepped away. He looked back at you, almost embarrassed to have let you see him in such a vulnerable state. He turned to leave, your voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“JJ, you don’t always have to be strong, you know that, right?”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @lolitstiana @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @teamnick @thoughtsofthestars @obxmxybxnk @pcterparxer @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sxcretinhuman @alexa-playafricabytoto @angvelics @badwolf00593 @coloradogirl07 @mendesmaybank @jiaraendgame @5am-cigarette @emerald-xcd @haharudy

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znaeb · 5 years ago

Text

Meet Cute // Z.K.

Bass thumped through his entire body, the house seeming to vibrate with how loud the speakers were.

He made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen looking for Nick, knowing that he was probably at the counter playing bartender.

“Nick!” He called from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“Yup?” He responded, his eyes scanning around the room for a second to find Zion.

“Found this in the shower.” He held Nick’s phone above his head with one hand and raised his eyebrows as if to ask ‘what— or who— were you doing in the shower?’

Out of nowhere he heard a small giggle and his head snapped to the right to see who it was. A small girl stood there with a cup in one hand and a cherry popsicle in the other.

She was so pretty, probably the prettiest person he’d ever seen. He looked at her for a second before he even thought to speak.

“Hey... I’m Zion.” He raised his hand to shake hers, but before he could take it another girl rushed into the kitchen and to her side.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’re you doing?” She threw a glance at Zion, “never mind, doesn’t matter, come with me.”

“But I was just—” she was interrupted by her friend pulling her out of the kitchen, only able to turn around and shout, “nice to meet you Zion!” Before she was whisked away.

He wanted to say something back but she was already gone. He turned to Nick who had quietly witnessed the exchange, “Who was she?”

“I dunno man, one of Dani’s friends I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued making whatever drink the girl standing next to him had asked for.

“Who the fuck is Dani?” Zion’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Girl she left with.” He nodded his head towards the door they left through.

“Damn.” Zion sat down at the kitchen island and opened himself a beer.

He’d been wandering around the party for 30 minutes trying to find her again and he hadn’t had any luck. The house wasn’t that big, but it was packed with people. He asked random girls if they knew who or where she was, even going as far as describing her clothes to a group who said they knew Dani. Still no help.

By far the most crowded place was the living room. He stopped there and hoped that she would walk in, or that he’d see her from his strategic spot in the corner.

After another 30 minutes had passed, he was losing hope. Thinking that when Dani took her away that she must have fully taken her out of the house, figuring that the only way he hadn’t even seen her must be that she left the party entirely.

He grabbed another beer from the kitchen and stumbled back into the living room feeling so disappointed. He danced for a while before getting bored and going to sit outside in the back yard.

He sat in the grass a few feet away from the trampoline in the corner of the yard and laid down on his back, groaning out loud since he was finally alone. He closed his eyes, listening to the bugs and enjoying the breeze.

He heard something shatter inside the house and then someone started laughing. He rolled his eyes and hoped that it wasn’t anything of his that was broken.

The glass patio door slid open.

“Z?”

He sat up on his elbows and looked behind him to see Edwin stepping outside and sliding the door closed behind him.

“What’re you doing?” He spoke again as he walked over.

“Just getting some air.” Zion said nonchalantly and laid back down on the grass. Edwin came and sat beside him. “Have you seen that one girl? Dani’s friend?” He asked with a little bit of hope in his voice, knowing that most of the girls there were Edwin’s friends. What a ladies man.

“Who the fuck is Dani?” Edwin’s question burst his bubble and he sighed.

“I don’t fucking know.” He shook his head and closed his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh...” Edwin obviously didn’t understand what the hell Zion was talking about, but then again he rarely did. “I’ll ask around tomorrow if you want.”

“Thanks man.” Zion looked over at him and nodded with sincerity.

“So.... why you looking for a girl you don’t even know?” He asked.

“I don’t know man, she was just so pretty.” He sat up and started picking at the grass by his leg, “like the kind of pretty that’s going to be burned into my head for forever.”

“You sound like a sappy YA novel.” Edwin deadpanned, his face looking suspicious. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” Zion punched his arm and Edwin fell over laughing, “shut up, Ed.”

“Alright, alright.” He sat back up and slightly shoved Zion’s shoulder, “what’d you guys talk about?”

“We didn’t.”

“Huh?”

“We didn’t talk, I introduced myself and then she left with her friend.” He rubbed his face in frustration and slouched. “But she said it was nice meeting me as she left... and her voice was so nice when she said my name. I should’ve followed them out, I should’ve gotten her number.”

“You’re joking.” Edwin raised an eyebrow, “you literally sound like an excerpt from a John Green book, bro.”

“Fucking hell.” Zion huffed and stood up from the grass, “I think I’m gonna get another beer.”

“Yeah, I should go find Miranda.” He said and looked at his watch, “she’s gotta work tomorrow, I don’t want to keep her out too late.”

Zion paused, waiting for Edwin as he stood up and looking towards the house.

“Why is my bedroom light on?” He said out loud.

“I dunno, you probably left it on.” Edwin rolled his eyes and started to make his way toward the house.

“No, I didn’t.” He hustled past Edwin and into the house, ready to break up whatever was happening in his room.

He jogged up the stairs and down the hall, his door was closed but he could see the light coming from underneath the door.

“Hey yo, bedrooms are off limits.” He said as he opened the door.

“Fuck dude, get out.” The guy on his bed yelled as he turned slightly away from the girl sitting next to him.

“You get out asshole, this is my room.” He yelled back, angrily picking the guys jacket up off the floor and throwing it at him.

“Fuck you, man. You shouldn’t throw a party and expect people not to leave for some privacy.” He stood up and stepped closer to Zion.

“The fuck? Go home if you want privacy.” Zion shoved him back, feeling like his personal space was being severely invaded.

In the blink of an eye the guy was back across the room and throwing punches. Zion avoided his fists as best as he could but still got hit in the eye.

Zion threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around the guy’s middle, tackling him the the ground and trying to restrain him from punching anymore.

The girl was yelling something and went to the doorway, shouting for someone to come help break them up.

Zion didn’t want to throw any punches, he didn’t want to be fighting at all, but as the anger bubbled up inside of him and his head started to ache from the impact of the hit he’d taken, he couldn’t help himself from landing a few good blows.

All of a sudden he was being pulled up off of the floor and pushed against the wall, he tried to fight back but stopped when he realized it was Brandon.

“Bro! Chill, chill!” He said loudly. Zion looked over B’s shoulder to see the other guy being held back by what he assumed was one of his friends.

He was breathing heavily and his nostrils flared, he shrugged Brandon’s hands off, stepping forward and away from the wall.

“I’m cool.” He said gruffly, eyes still on the other guy. Watching as his friends hauled him out of the room and down the stairs.

“Alright, party’s over. Clear out.” Brandon clapped his hands once and started ushering people out.

A while later the house was quiet.

Zion laid on his bed with an ice pack on his eye. He hadn’t left his room, but he knew the rest of the house was pretty much empty.

He heard Austin talking downstairs, probably to one of the other boys or his girlfriend, but that was the only voice he could positively identify.

Then he heard someone on the stairs. He sighed and hoped that it wasn’t someone coming to check on him. But of course it was.

There was a knock on the door and he called out asking who it was, Nick answered. He poked his head inside the door and said, “hey how ya doin’?”

“I’m alright Nick, my head just fucking hurts.” He spoke quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah yeah, well that’s what happens when you get punched in the face.” Nick shrugged, “anyways, here.”

He spoke quickly and then Zion heard him running down the stairs. He looked up in confusion and there she was.

She was finally in front of him and he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m y/n.”

“I’m Zion.” She giggled at him and took one step into the room.

“I know.” She looked at him carefully, her hands tucked behind her back. “You better keep the ice on that, it’s already swelling.”

He finally realized that he’d taken his hand away from his face, putting it back quickly and looking away when his cheeks flushed.

“You can come in.” He said, beckoning her further into the room with his free hand.

She didn’t say anything, but she came over and sat next to him on the bed. He looked at her and she looked at him.

“Y/n.” He said.

“Yes?”

“Oh, I don’t know... I just wanted to say it.” He spoke stupidly, his mouth turning up into a small smile when she laughed at him.

“Zion.” She said his name thoughtfully, then she nodded to herself and said, “yep, just saying it was a fun idea.”

He laughed in return and looked at the floor.

“I looked for you for like 2 hours.” He said suddenly, finally getting annoyed at holding the ice up and taking it away from his face.

“Well I left, so that’s probably why you didn’t find me.” She tilted her head to the side and picked the ice pack back up, holding it to his face for him.

“Where did you go?” He asked, his eyes looking at the bracelets on the wrist resting in her lap. He reached out and pulled her empty hand towards him, turning it over and spreading her palm flat against his.

“I took my friend home.” She smiled and watched him play with her fingers.

“And then you came back?” He questioned.

“Um, well Dani texted me that Nick was looking for me. So she gave me his number and I called to see what was up.” She recounted the short but very important sequence of events, “he told me that you had been asking around for me, and then he asked if I’d come back to the party and see you.”

He was now holding her tiny hand completely between both of his, watching her face as she told him what happened.

“Remind me to thank him later.” He chuckled.

A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke, “So how’d you end up in a fight?” She asked softly, looking a little hesitant.

“Some drunk guy was making out with some girl in my room and he didn’t like it when I told him to leave... I shouldn’t have punched back, but I got really pissed off when he knocked me in the eye.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows again and took the ice pack away from his face to inspect the forming bruise.

“Yeah, that’d piss me off too.” She nodded.

He laughed again and nudged her shoulder with his, “I’m glad you understand.”

They sat quietly for a moment or so before Zion realized that he was still holding her hand. He gave it a small squeeze to ask if it was okay and she responded by pulling his hand into her own lap and running her thumb over the backs of his knuckles.

They stayed up and talked for a long time before she went home, and he even kissed her cheek when she left.

The next day his phone went off at about 11 am, he’d received a text from an unknown number. He scrunched his eyebrows and opened his phone to read the message.

‘Don’t forget to thank Nick.’

*********

This is allllllll over the place, but I felt like posting :P

#prettymuch imagines #fanfiction #prettymuch #imagines #zion kuwonu imagine #zion kuwonu #fluff #imagine #fanfic

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makeusfly · 4 years ago

Text

More Light Than Heat, Chapter 5

Practice, Practice, Practice

previous chapter

read on AO3

masterpost

There was no mistaking who was knocking on his door.

“Ferb! Perfect timing. Polka dots or stripes?”

His brother took a long look at the tie in each hand and shook his head. He stepped into his closet and tossed him a solid dark blue that went well with the pale pink button-down he was wearing.

“Thanks,” Phineas said, starting to put it on. Ferb sat on the edge of the bed and waited. “Am I dressed okay? It occurs to me that I’ve never actually been on a date and you have...though it’s been a while, come to think of it. Still--”

“You look great,” he said, cutting him off. “Where are you taking her?”

“The new Japanese place downtown.”

“Want to borrow the car?”

“Nah,” he said, giving the tie a final tug. “We’re gonna walk.”

Ferb nodded and pursed his lips. Phineas watched him expectantly.

“Did Dad give you the ‘first date’ talk?”

“He did…” he said slowly, not sure where this was going. Then he chuckled. “You’re not here to give me the ‘break her heart, I’ll break your face’ talk, are you?”

“Phineas: you’re my brother and I love you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“But?”

Ferb looked away as if gathering his thoughts. Then, standing up, he said, “If this were anyone else going on a date with Isabella…”

“I’d be standing behind you with a shovel! Look, bro--” He sighed, the indignation rushing out of him like air from a popped balloon. “This is all new to me, but I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Ferb admitted. “But you spent a lot of time hurting her without meaning to. You can be a bit...oblivious.”

Phineas swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, he wanted to know why nobody - especially Ferb, of all people - had ever said anything. But what if they had? He couldn’t conjure feelings that weren’t there. And then came that question of why again. He loved Isabella. She was his second favorite person in the world. Why didn’t he want to go out with her?

Ferb was running a hand through his hair and his phone dinged with a text he was likely going to ignore and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He wasn’t sure what he could tell Ferb that wasn’t an outright lie, so he just met his gaze.

Ferb sighed. “Do you have cash for flowers?”

Phineas chuckled, pointing to the bouquet sitting on his drafting table. “I might not know anything about being a boyfriend, but I do know Isabella.”

His brother smiled. “Sunflowers are her favorite.”

“Exactly.”

“Have fun,” Ferb said finally, squeezing Phineas’s shoulder before turning to leave. Phineas took a deep breath and a final look in the mirror before leaving too. When he did, Ferb was long gone.

He was a little nervous about what to say to Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro when she opened the door, but Isabella saw him coming and met him on the sidewalk so he didn’t have to deal with it. She was thrilled by the flowers, popping back into the house to put them in water before they walked to the restaurant. The walk itself was nice - walking in a companionable silence with a comforting breeze blowing. It wasn’t until they were seated that Phineas remembered he had no idea what a date was supposed to look like.

“So…” he said, fiddling with the napkin on his lap.

“So?”

“So,” he repeated, not meeting her eyes, tapping his fingers against the table.

“Phineas,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “What are you worrying about?”

“I’ve just never been on a date before,” he confessed.

Isabella giggled. “Is that all? I knew that already. Besides, this isn’t a real date, Phin. It’s just me.” She considered it for a second, then said, “Think of it as a practice date.”

He grinned. When they’d talked about it before, it was all about making everyone else think they were serious. And how the heck was he supposed to do that when he didn’t know what serious looked like? But practice? Practice, he could do.

“Okay! If we’re practicing, that means I can ask questions when I”m lost, right?”

“Definitely,” she agreed.

He took a sip of his water, organizing his thoughts, then asked, “What does a first date usually look like?”

“Well, when you haven’t known the person since you were six, it’s basically a getting-to-know-you session. You go through the ‘where are you from’ and ‘what do you do’ and ‘do you have a five-year-plan’ conversations.”

“And if you have known the person since you were six?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. This is the first date I’ve been on with someone I’ve known since I was six. We just...talk, I think.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. “When do you hear about the dig application?”

“By the end of the summer,” she said. “Should be before registration, because there’s a special course we have to take in the fall to be ready in the spring.”

“And it won’t mess with your soccer schedule?”

“I wasn’t actually sure when Ferb asked me, but I checked. It won’t.”

“Good. I know you love that.”

She nodded as silence fell again. The waiter stopped by to take their orders. Once he was gone, Isabella squirmed in her seat. Phineas bit his lip. He never had trouble talking to Isabella before. Why was this so weird?

“So if Ferb’s working on another car, what are you doing this summer?”

“I have a stack of blueprints I want to get through, but I’m mostly prepping for the wedding.” He started ticking items off on his fingers. “The canopy, the chairs, the tribute video, the dance floor…”

“I didn’t think about it before...what’s she going to do about a D.J. since Ferb’s in the wedding party?”

“We have an automated booth ready to go, but I think she’s got a couple bands lined up.”

Isabella chuckled. “She is Candace Flynn. And Jeremy’s got some connections himself. Let me know if I can help with any of it.”

“We always do. How’s the hall coming?”

“Oh, it’s done! Did Ferb not tell you? We were talking about it yesterday.”

“No. No he didn’t. But he did say you got an internship for the summer?”

“Yes! I’m surprised it happened so quickly, but I start Monday. I’m really excited. And I would have even known about it if it weren’t for him.”

“Speaking of Ferb…” Phineas said, leaning in. “I was thinking: he dated a lot in high school, but I don’t think he’s been out with anybody since--”

“The one with Vanessa right after graduation.”

“Right. I’m not...actually sure why that didn’t work out.”

Isabella shrugged. “Have you asked him?”

“No. It seemed kinda mean at the time; I figured he’d talk about it when he was ready. But it’s been a while and I just thought...we should set him up with somebody.”

Isabella coughed up the water she had been drinking. Phineas froze.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She was a little pale, but Phineas figured that was just her trying to get her breath back. “Why though? Did he say he wants to go out with someone?”

“No, I just thought...he deserves someone nice.”

Isabella opened her mouth to respond, but the waiter came by with their plates. Once he’d left, Isabella appeared back to normal.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start though. None of the girls in high school had anything in common, and he hasn’t seemed interested in anyone since Vanessa, so what kind of girl would he even like?”

Phineas shrugged. “I’ll admit, it’s not a fully-baked idea.” He tilted his head and asked, “How do you know that you want to date someone?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“Just...you know. I don’t think I’ve had a crush on anybody before, but how would I know how to identify the feelings if they were completely new?”

She smiled. “It’s different for everybody, I think. And maybe for each crush? When I was crushing on you, you were literally the only thing I could think about. But when I started liking Dylan sophomore year, it wasn’t a big thing. I was just really happy talking to him and felt butterflies when I saw him across the room.”

Phineas shook his head. “There are a lot of people I’m happy to talk to, but I don’t think there’s been any butterflies.”

“So maybe it’s different for you. Or maybe you haven’t met the right person or maybe you’re ace and you’re not going to be into anybody.” She reached out to set her hand on top of his. “I got a head-start figuring all this out because of my obsession with you, but there’s no need to rush.”

Phineas’s eyes were glued to their hands. “Ferb says I spent a lot of time hurting you without meaning to.”

“That’s not fair. It was a painful situation, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Still. I hate it.”

“I don’t.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“If we hadn’t gone through that, we might not be as close as we are now.”

He smiled and flipped his hand over to squeeze hers. “That’s fair. I definitely wouldn’t change that for anything.”

next chapter

#More Light Than Heat #phineas and ferb #phineas and ferb fanfiction #ferbella #ferbella fanfiction #my writing

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iguessihavemore · 5 years ago

Text

Just a little content in these trying times

It’s just audition tapes. A big chunk of it you guys have actually made yourselves that I just wrote over in hopes of them flowing together a bit more. So yeah, credit to the creators of each character! Hope you find these fun!

The scene is set in a luxurious bedroom decked out in pinks. A brunette sits at a vanity with her back facing the camera, twisting a final lock of hair around a curling iron. When she frees it, it falls just above the collar of her white T-shirt. She twists around and flashes a glossy smile. “Pardon me for not being completely ready.” She began, smoothing out her denim skirt as she got closer to the camera.

“I noticed too late that my hair wasn’t perfect, and I can’t have that.” She bounced one lock near her face. “My name is Amelia Delaney. Daughter of Johnathon Delaney. He’s not well-known outside of our town, but he owned quite the successful department store in our local mall.” Her expression falters into a distant gaze for a brief moment, but she snaps out of it in a second. “I say ‘owned’ as unfortunately, my dear old father was killed in a robbery gone wrong not long-”

A car door slammed in the background, and Amelia’s face changed to hollow shock. “Umm… and his passing left me alone with my elder sister, Melissa, who’s only pleasure in life must come from seeing me miserable.” A second, closer slam could be heard next, and Amelia cringed with a whispered swear. She made a swift move toward the camera. “And that’s why I need the money. I have to get away from her please I’m losing my mind.” She said in one breath before turning off the camera.

*III*

A beep sounded off, assumingly letting the auditioner know the recording began, as the honey-blonde girl was looking away, leaning in what looked to be her closet doorway. Handmade steamers and folded paper animals littered the frame. “Alright, listen ‘ere, ‘n listen close.” She brought a blade up cooly, twirling it by the handle. “I know I ain’t the sharpest knife in the drawer-”

She froze. She let herself chuckle, and rolled her one exposed eye. She cocked her knife to the side. “...but I think it’s better if you pick me. Annabelle Dwight. For your sake.” She faced the camera lens, giving the blade a gentle lick. “It’ll hurt a lot more for you that way. I promise.”

*III*

Two girls sharing a shirt sat on a bed in the center of the video. One of the two flinched in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected the camera to begin recording, despite the fact that they were both staring at it. “Erm…” They glanced at each other. It was clear they were related, identical at that. The girl on the right attempted to perk up, her smile quavering. “Did you know that the average person is more likely to be hit by lightning twice than they are to ever meet a conjoined twin?”

“Not that we’re… uh, threatening anyone. Putting us on the show isn’t going to make anyone get struck by lightning.” The girl on the left tapped her fingers nervously. Her sister couldn’t keep up her facade any longer either, and deflated. The left one, the one with longer hair, spoke up again. “We’re really, really shy. We can barely be around people that aren’t from the orphanage. When we are… we fall into an act we’ve inadvertently made, a ‘creepy, conjoined sisters’ thing. We don’t mean to, but, like, it’d be a lie to say it hasn’t saved us a few times by some people who think they can get one over on us.”

“We’re pretty strong, all things considered, but at the end of the day we’re still a kind of crippled. The world is scary, so when we’re scared, we naturally try to make it think we’re scarier!” The shorter-haired sister said. “But it’s basically impossible to make friends like that, eheh. Not unless we’re in an enclosed space with the same people for a long time… like the orphanage.”

“Or an island!” The left exclaimed. “And with the oddballs that Total Drama attracts, we might even be able to get used to them faster than we ever have before! Erika and I- er, Avery, is my name- are really excited and hopeful for this opportunity-”

“So please, PLEEEASE consider us!! We all know we’d be good for ratings! Even if we don’t make past the first vote, you get views, and we had a chance!”

The sisters ended the video by begging ‘please’ until it cut off.

*III*

“Hi! My name is Cameron, and to prove I’m Total Drama material, I’m gonna summon satan.” A girl with plum purple hair in a bob cold-opened, the shot swinging as she was in the process of moving it where she needed. She placed it on a short patio table, the time being after sunset, the sky dim. A loud chatter shouted off-screen, indiscernible in video, but Cameron straightened so her head was out of the shot and yelled back, “It’s just for business, mom!”

She lowered down with a mischievous smile, ready to do something with the ouija board and candles set up on the ground. The harsh voice started up again, and Cameron groaned in irritation. She left the scene for a few moments, their voices going back and forth. She returned with a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine, I’m just gonna summon a normal, lame ghost I guess.”

She lit the candles and began to seat herself, but before she sat down her mother yelled once again, this time something about fire could be heard. “UGH, MOM!” Cameron shot to her feet. “I do this all the time! Why do you only care when I’m actually trying to show people-!?” She stomped away once more. Once that chatter ended, she came back and instantly plopped down in her spot with a huff. “Alright, okay. Here we go!” She closed her eyes. There was a pause, the lighting of the video going unnaturally dark. Her green, choppy bangs waved in a sudden big breeze. A content smile crossed her face, the film glitching at the edges. It switched to night vision just as a pair of legs clad in mom jeans materialized behind Cameron, hand on hips, and then the video cut out entirely.

*III*

A platinum blonde, choppy-haired boy clapped in the lens of the camera, pulling his hands away to reveal his panicked expression. “Total Drama! I’d be the perfect contestant for your new show! Or season! Whatever!” He awkwardly did half of some kinda hand gesture. “And I could just do something cool right now to convince you, but I’ve been ready for this my whole life. You’re about to see a compilation of me proving myself for years!” He leaned back a little, looking above the camera. “Thanks for making the montage, mom-”

The film abruptly switched to a shot of a flock of birds, pecking away at a green field of grass. A bush behind them rustled, and the blonde burst out. The birds erupted upwards, but after the curtain of wings cleared, the boy was triumphantly holding one in his hands. A swarm of beaks began to descend upon him before the scene changed.

The next clip started in the middle of the boy furiously arguing. The camera wasn’t initially focused on him, but started to come up behind him. “It was NOT a foul!! How would you know, I was on the field- you’re just some dumb referee! He kicked me first-!” After a turn, it was revealed that the person he was arguing about was a toddler, both of them with potato sacks pooled around their feet. It cut off when a woman came up beside the film taker to ask her to calm her son down.

A few more clips later, it returned to him as he was auditioning. “So that’s why you should pick Jackson!” He screeched. He brought his fist into view, clutching a lemon. He squeezed it with a battle cry, and a spray of lemon juice shot out in all directions. “AAUG-!!!”

*III*

A latina girl with long dark hair stands at a countertop, tapping a spoonful of dried jasmine flowers into a cup and pouring a stream of steaming water over them. She stirs it with a spoon before glancing at the camera with her dark eyes.

“Hello, Chris.” She begins, a haughty tone etching her words. “Starting another season, hm? And here I thought you’d run out of ideas. I mean, building an entire island after the last one sunk? I don’t know how you’ll top that.”

The girl leans forward on her elbows, letting go of the spoon. It continued to stir around the cup as if guided by an invisible third hand. “But let me get to the point: you need new contestants to traumatize. And lucky for you, I’m going to step into that role.” She straightened, waving her hand in the air. The spoon stopped as a cupboard opened on its own, a box of cookies tumbling out and floating over to her. She opens the top as it rests itself on the counter, taking out a cookie to dunk in her tea. “Now, I can’t promise that I’ll start fights with the other contestants, but I will… work a little magic.”

She chuckled, nibbling at her snack. “Something to really blow them all away. I’ll see you there.” She waved lightly with her free hand, sending the film off with a snap.

*III*

“Okay… alright.” A pasty young adult said as they fidgeted. Their pink eyes darted nervously behind their glasses, but held a determination to them. “Hey there. You gotta pick me, Jupiter! Know why!?” They jolted about, picking up a med’s kit into the frame. “Who else can patch up a kid’s leg one-two-three STAT! Eh?” They chuckled under their quavering breath, the kit shaking in their hands. “Ehhhh?” They let out an involuntary sigh, dropping the white box.

“A-and between me and you…” Their eyes flicked about with purpose this time. “I need to be the one to get this money. I- I need my mom to think-” They sighed with a pleading laugh. “I just want… okay, okay, listen my bro,” They clasped their vibrating hands together and looked into the lens. “C’mon man, please?”

*III*

A pink-clad teenager sat on her bed in a pastel room, the wall behind her adorned with heart-shaped decorations, pressed flowers, and pictures of the Greek coast. She gave a short wave with her ebony hand. “Hello. My name is Marina. I am fifteen years old. I am applying to be considered as a competitor in the newest season of Total Drama.” She stated one-after-the-other, smiling and getting to the point with each thing she said.

“I am a great team player. I always play fair, no matter who I’m up against. And if I win, I would like to have my Sweet Sixteen in Greece.” She finally let herself get a little off track, her eyes trailing to the side. “I mean… my sister, Stella, would be upset that I didn’t put the money towards our Quinceañera… but I’m sure she’ll understand. Eventually.”

Marina perked up as a door opened off screen. She watches someone get closer to the camera, until another girl’s face is right in front of it, completely blocking the shot of Marina. “Oh, hey Stella. I thought you were outside picking berries?” Her voice said.

“No berries.” The newcomer stated.

“No berries? What about oranges?” Marina suggested.

“Yeah.” The face turned towards her sister.

“Yeah? You want to go pick oranges? We can make orange cake.”

“Yeah!” She moved away, revealing the auditioner once again.

“Okay, let’s go pick some oranges.” Her eyes followed Stella out of her room. She stood up towards the camera, picking it up to her level. “Well, that’s all the time I have. Pick me! Um- please. Thank you.”

*III*

An auditorium is already applauding when the tape begins, a girl in a bright blue hijab coming up to center-stage to take an impressive-looking award.

It cuts to the same girl at a field, standing on her hands and looking forward. Her legs bend backwards but her feet stay placed about her head, with no help beyond her own strength and flexibility. She holds a bow and an arrow with her toes, only showing her strain once or twice, but nowhere near enough to break her steely demeanor while doing such a feat. She pulls back the string with one leg, and releases it. The camera follows the arrow through the air until it sticks its landing just above the bullseye on a target a few yards away.

The scene cuts again to the young woman, now in a completely different outfit and addressing the camera herself. “My name is Nadine, and I’m a winner. As a competitive acrobatic, you know I don’t go for easy wins. Your game show is in a similar boat, but I intend to accomplish it with just as much ease. Observe.” She turns and picks up a new bow ‘n arrow, flicking a lighter and catching the arrow head on fire. She got in the position from earlier, and began to draw back the string. On its way, however, it nicked her head scarf and left a flame- and with the way her eyes widened, she definitely wasn’t oblivious to it.

*III*

“Is this thing even on?” A girl with bright green hair pulled back with a bandana muttered to herself. Her tongue was sticking out as she messed with it, until finally noticing the blinking red light. “Oh! Okay!” She jumped back, revealing that she was standing in a kitchen, dressed in a pink apron. “Hi, I really want to be on Total Drama! I’m really cool and super strong and I bake awesome cookies-”

She reaches for a pan on the counter in front of her bare-handed, and begins to hold up her freshly baked cookies for the camera. Utter pain shoots across her face as she drops the pan, screaming. A bang makes her shout again, pulling up a reddening leg that must have gotten hit by the hot pan.

“OW OW OW!” She chants, hopping around one-footed. “Ugh, I’m so stupid-”

The hopping jostled the camera. The shot suddenly became a blur as it fell to the ground, shattering the lens.

“Oh, dangit!!”

She shuffles towards it on her knees, her chin just cut off. “Uhh… My name is Paulie, by the way-” It cut to black on its own.

*III*

“-But I have my audition tape right here-” The video was trained on a fully clothed boy standing in his room, but the person filming moved the camera around wildly. They briefly settled on a shot of a roll of sticky tape on a desk that the auditioner was gesturing to. “Why are you filming-? To prove that it’s mine-?”

An irritated growl sounded out of frame. “That’s not going to get you into the show, Roger!” There was a quick pan between the boy and a windowpane on the next wall, then back to him. “Show them what you can do or you aren’t going to be picked!”

“What are you talking about!? I want to be on it if YOU want me to be on it, but I already told you I’m not cut out for it! They aren’t going to like me any more than anyone else does!” Roger argued.

A hand materialized from behind the camera and lightly clutched the cloth on his shoulder. “You need to win the MONEY, dunce! They’ll pick you once they see your tricks- now jump out the window!”

The boy gasped in shock, despair filling his eyes. “I can’t believe- you finally want me d- dead…” He whimpered. He tore away and went to pout on his bed. “Leave me alone, then…”

Presumably his sibling yelled in frustration, shaking the camera. “Fine! I’ll just follow you around until you accidentally do something…” They griped before switching off the video.

*III*

Not much can be seen at first except for a silhouette leaning forward, framed by the orange light of a campfire. A flashlight flicks on, and the tall girl in front of it can be seen in full color, plus a few trees of the nighttime forest around her.

“Howdy!” The girl says sweetly and boldly. “The name’s Rosie! I saw your little TV show on forever ago, and I’d like to camp with y’all!”

She gets to her knees and reaches into a backpack mostly offscreen. “I can do all kinds ‘a knots, I can do them backwards, sideways, inside-out, blindfolded-” She twisted the rope around as needed then tossed it aside. “I can hike to the top of a mountain in a day, swim upstream in a thunderstorm, and know every single berry by heart!” She reached into her pockets and pulled out two handfuls of small blue berries.

“Right now, here’s a little test. Which one do you eat?” In a moment, she flung both behind her. “Neither!” She shouted proudly. “If you snacked on a pokeberry OR a nightshade, you’d be dead in a heartbeat!”

She placed a hand on her chest, grinning wide. “I love to camp. ‘Makes me feel alive.”

She glared at the camera without warning. Her eyes darkened. “”Pity some folk don’t properly enjoy it. I suppose I’ll have to weed those out.”

*III*

Bouncing up and down on her bed, a girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair greets the camera with a wide smile. Her yellow wall behind her was decorated in stars and displayed several pictures of macaroni art smothered in glitter. A light shadow near the frame moved away, the person behind it ready to begin. “Okay, it’s rolling now. Say hi, Stella.”

“Hi.” The latina girl ducked down a bit and gave an enthusiastic wave.

“So, Stella, can you tell the camera why you want to compete on Total Drama?”

Rather than answer, she waves again with no change in expression.

“Yes, hello Stella. Do you want to be on Total Drama?”

“Yeah!” She agrees gleefully.

“Why?”

“Yeah!”

The girl taping the audition giggles and tries a different approach. “Okay, if you won the million dollars, what would you do with it?”

Stella moved her eyes away as she pondered it, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Party.”

“You want to have a party?” The other pressed.

“Quinceañera.” The auditioner specified. She closed her eyes, brought her hands up, and wiggled in her seat like she was dancing to music.

“That sounds like a great idea, Stella. Back to the show, are you a good team player?” The camera-girl asked. Stella agreed. “Yeah? And do you like to make friends?” Stella agreed again. “Okay, say goodbye to the camera.”

“Bye bye!” Stella slid off the bed as she said this, already wanting to see the playback.

*III*

Tony doesn’t GET an audition tape. I hate this man. I’ve been trying to think of an audition for him forever and it just. Ain’t. happening.

#garden #garden cast

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royalbloodedbastards · 5 years ago

Text

chatzy // marcel

DATE: Friday, July 17, 2020 CHARACTERS: Sefa and Major ABOUT: Sefa and Major chill on the roof. Things go badly.

The breeze up on the rooftop was rejuvenating after a full day of being in crowded spaces. Sefa crossed the rooftop to give the stranger sipping a beer some space before pulling out his new pen. He held it up to show Major with a grin. "I caved. You want a hit?”

Major took a deep breath as he sauntered over the roof, sipping his drink. The night was just as hot as the daytime but the wind slid underneath his jacket to cool him down. He turned to Sefa as the pen was lifted into his view. "Saw that coming," he said with a laugh. "Sure, I'll take a hit. You like it?"

"Yeah," Sefa admitted. "I mean, it's easy and it doesn't make any waste. No papers or ash or anything." Sefa took a hit off the pen before passing it to Major. He stepped toward the edge of the roof to blow the smoke out toward the East River. "What are you doing once this weekend's over? Heading back home?"

After taking another gulp of his whiskey, Major set the cup aside and plucked the pen from Sefa's fingers. "Yeah, for a while, probably," he said, then took the hit. He held it in and exhaled slowly, answering in a cloud of vapor. "I miss the beach and I'm itching to sleep past 6am. What about you?"

"I don't know, might stick around for a bit," Sefa thought out loud. "Visit my friends at the camp one more time before I go back."

Major nodded, holding the vape back out for Sefa. He was tempted to just nod and move on from the topic, but curiosity got the better of him. "How does this camp work? I met your cousin downstairs, she said you were staying with family? I didn't know you had family in America."

"I didn't either," Sefa admitted, sliding the vape back into his pocket. "I dunno, I just got there and turns out I had all these relatives—" Sefa paused. Was he even allowed to talk about this? Across the rooftop, the stranger chugged the rest of their beer. "Who told you I was staying with family?"

"Your cousin?" Major replied, his answer sounding more like a question. "Hailey? I think she said her name was. No... Bailey!" He snapped and pointed at Sefa when he remembered the name. "So, wait, you found out after you went to this camp?" He was still smiling, but he looked more confused now. "What are the odds of that?"

"Ah! Yeah," Sefa nodded. He shook his head and shrugged. "It's crazy, bro. Just a wild coincidence, eh?" Sefa's eyes flickered back over to the stranger, who was now watching them intently. Something about his stance and stillness sent a shiver down Sefa's back. "Hey," he called out toward them. "You up here from the party too?"

It was a wild coincidence, and Major had more questions now than when he started asking them. Before he could ask more, though, Sefa's attention was pulled away, to the stranger. Major squinted at them. He'd spent over an hour walking the floor, trying to say hi to as many people as possible, and he hadn't seen anybody who looked like this person down there. He jerked his head at them in greeting. "Hey, mate," he said, lifting his hand.

Sefa stepped forward toward the stranger. "Hey, this is a private event, buddy." If this was some paparazzi up here to creep on them, then Sefa was going to let them know that he wasn't afraid to confront them. "Don't worry," the stranger responded. "I got an invitation." The stranger stepped forward into the light and Sefa shuddered. "It's her," Sefa hissed. "She's the one that attacked me, that director. It's her." He stepped back and gripped Major's arm.

"Wh—" Realization dawned on Major as Sefa backed into him. Instinctively, he moved in between the woman and his friend. "Fuck." He noted the exit, across the roof to the left, but didn't look in that direction or move toward it in case it gave her any ideas. He did, though, squeeze Sefa's arm, a silent indication that he should try to run. "Listen, we don't have to have problem. There's a whole room of people downstairs who are gonna have one, though, if you try anything."

Is she going to try something? Sefa kept his eyes on the director, who was remaining much too still for his comfort. In a low but urgent voice, Sefa whispered, "Listen, you need to get out of here. This woman is really dangerous." This woman is a giant, murderous cat-thing, he wanted to say. "I didn't tell you before, but she tried to kill me."

The look on the woman's face was unsettling, but Sefa's words were downright terrifying. "What?" he whispered. He eyed the woman again. She didn't look weak, per se, but she wasn't very ripped. Maybe she'd caught Sefa by surprise, or used a weapon of some sort. "I'm backing you up, Sef. Two against one."

Sefa sighed in frustration. He wouldn't be able to fight her and protect Major at the same time. "Trust me, it'll be safer if you make a run for it. I can distract her, just—" "Let's play a game," the stranger called out from across the roof. "Fuck you!" Sefa called back. "I'll ask you a question. You get the answer right, I let you go," she offered, her tone borderline amused. "You get the answer wrong? You die."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Major asked, incredulous. After a pause where no one answered him, he laughed. It was half-nervous, half-angry. "Have you totally lost it? We're not playing this."

"So you choose death?" she asked back. "Ask your fucking question," Sefa spat back. "Listen, if she attacks," he added quickly in a whisper, "Make a run for it. I'll try to distract her. She's only here for me." "What was the name of Ross's monkey on Friends?" "The fuck?" Sefa whispered in confusion. "You're gonna kill me over a sitcom monkey?"

Major was starting to wonder if this was a prank. The question was so absurd, and Sefa seemed so serious and scared, and something in his brain seemed to short circuit. "This is a joke, right. Very," he laughed, almost pleading with it, silently begging them to join along, "very fucked, Sef. Come on."

The woman's jaw seemed to unhinge as a loud roar erupted from her throat. "WHAT WAS THE NAME OF ROSS'S MONKEY ON FRIENDS?" she repeated, her voice quaking now. "What the fuck!" Sefa exclaimed. "I don't know!"

She started screeching, and Major's stomach dropped to the floor. He did, too, crouching over and covering his ears. "What the fuck is happening?" he asked, all the anger drained out of his voice, replaced entirely by fear. With his heart pounding, Major stood again and grabbed Sefa's wrist. "Come on!" he screamed, pulling Sefa along as he ran.

Guess we're running then. Sefa sprinted ahead, his eyes on the rooftop door. He heard another screech and the sound of something crunching beside him, but he kept his focus straight ahead. But before he could reach the door, Sefa went flying sideways as something collided into him. "Fuck!" he cried out, seeing only a glimpse of his assailant in the dark. "Run!"

Something slammed into Sefa, and the force made Major stumble. He caught himself by his hands and felt pain shoot up his arms. Cursing, he tucked his hands close, circling his wrists to make sure they weren't broken as he turned around. There was a lion on top of Sefa. He blinked in utter confusion. No, it wasn't a lion. A sphinx? His mind felt like a record with a scratch on it; he kept flipping between accepting what he was seeing and feeling surprised all over again. Before he could settle on an answer, though, he was running toward it. He leapt, ineffectually landing on top of the monster and tugging at it's ears with his hands.

Why couldn't you have attacked in Paris? Sefa thought as he struggled to free himself. There was a whole damn river in Paris. Suddenly, he felt the weight of the sphinx free up enough for him to roll away. "Fuck," he hissed, now seeing Major atop the monster. "I told you to run!" Sefa held his hands out. They were definitely too far away from the river, but he could feel the energy of some water rushing nearby. He tensed a muscle and tried to pull it toward him, but he felt resistance. "Shit." Where was it coming from?

"I told you I'm covering you!" Major shouted back. The monster started shaking it's head, and Major felt his grip starting to loosen. He yelped when it successfully shook him off and he landed on the roof. He coughed and sucked in air, trying to catch his breath as the thing bounded toward him. He scooted back in fear, trying to get to his feet, but it pounced on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Major shouted— this time bones in his arms were definitely broken— and started to struggle under the weight. "Sefa!"

"Fuck!" No time. Sefa could feel the water responding to his beckoning but Major was already on the floor. Sefa ran forward toward the thing and leapt onto its back. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and yanked, hoping he could give Major enough space to escape. "Get off him!"

Major kicked wildly, managing to land a few hits to the monster's stomach and back legs, but it did nothing to get it off of him. He twisted, feeling like he was about to dislocate his shoulder with the effort of pulling himself free. Still, he was stuck. A roar erupted in his face, blasting him with heat and flashing sharp teeth before his eyes. Major had the sudden, sinking feeling that he wasn't going to make it back to his feet. Tears stung in his eyes and he kicked again, but again, it was useless. Those same incisors sank into the flesh of his throat, so deep he couldn't even scream. Just wheeze out air until he choked on the blood, and everything went black.

"Get! Fucking! Off!" Sefa yanked and pulled with each word. "Him!" He slammed his fists down on the sphinx's head and hurt a crunch. He didn't hit that hard, he thought. Suddenly, the sphinx threw its head back, sending a wet spray up across the air. Sefa tumbled off the monster and landed on the ground behind him. He reach out to wipe his face dry and when he pulled his arm away, it was smeared in red. Sefa's eyes widened and darted over to where Major had been lying. There he was, but now completely still. The sphinx turned around to face Sefa and its horrid smile was soaked in red. "No," he muttered. "No!"

"You should have made a guess," the sphinx taunted. "Ross's monkey. Marcel." "Fuck you!" Sefa spat back. She was really still thinking about that damn monkey. Sefa clambered to his feet and held his fists out by his side. He could feel it now, the flow of water under his feet, like he had a tight grip on it. "Fuck your damn monkey!" He swung an arm forward and, with a huge crash, a metal pipe burst out from the roof under them and slammed into the side of the sphinx.

Sefa kept an eye on the sphinx as it flew across the roof and collided with the brick wall surrounding the edge. Water started gushing out of the wounded end of the metal pipe. Perfect. Sefa might not have mastered the art of finesse, but in his fury and rage, all he wanted was power. He clenched a fist and the water floated up into the air. Then with another sharp jab forward, a barrage of water went flying forward at the sphinx. The monster gurgled as the deluge kept it pinned to the brick wall. Sefa kept a steel hold on the monster as he approached. Were they high up enough off the ground that a fall would kill? Probably not. Guess it's the hard way, then. Sefa released his hold with a loud groan and the spray suddenly ceased, sending a tide of water rushing all across the roof.

The sphinx righted itself and glared at Sefa with a vicious glint in its eye. "Pathetic human. Already giving up," she spat. "You will die. Just like your friend." The sphinx lowered its torso, readying itself to pounce. "And then I will eat you both," she sang. Then, with a loud roar, she sprang forward at Sefa. But before her hooked claws could sink into Sefa's face, the pool of water all around the roof shot up into the air all at once. When the spray cleared, Sefa could see the sphinx floating in front of him in a giant sphere of water. Just like the lake, Sefa reminded himself. He lifted a hand and more and more of the flood around his feet started to siphon up into the ball. In its center, the sphinx thrashed and gurgled, gasping for air. Sefa just waited, pulling more and more water into the prison, watching the sphinx toss and turn, until eventually, she stopped moving at all.

Sefa stood there with his hands raised, the ball of water still turning and rushing in front of him. She had stopped moving was this it? Was there supposed to be— The sphinx's head whipped around to look at Sefa. In her eyes was a look of fury. She mouthed something that Sefa couldn't quite make out then, suddenly, burst into dust. Sefa relinquished his hold and once again, all the water came rushing down around his feet. He sighed in exasperation, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the sphinx had been a second ago.

Major. Sefa ran over to where his friend lay still. "Major!" Sefa called out as he collapsed to his knees beside him. "Ed! Talk to me." Even in the dark, Sefa could tell that Major did not look good. He reached forward toward Major's neck to try to find a pulse and found something wet tendinous instead. Sefa recoiled in disgust at the sensation. Trembling, he pulled out his phone and pointed the screen toward his friend. It took all his effort not to vomit at what the light revealed lying in front of him.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sefa was reeling. He knew that being a demigod was dangerous, but Major was from a different world. He never once imagined his human best friend getting caught up in all his new demigod drama. There had to be a way to fix this. Sefa thought back to the Fight Night—people were maimed there too and they all came out alright. There had to be someone downstairs who had that medicine or some sort of healing power that could fix this. "I'll be back," he whispered hastily as he clambered to his feet. "I'll be back," he repeated, trying to ignore the small part of his brain that knew there was nobody left on the roof to hear it.

#mus.sefa #rel.sefa&major #frm.chatzy

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dontdietwd · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Die, day 12

The world was upside down around me. My hands firmly planted to the hard, sun heated surface of the edge of the building, I looked out, the sly blue and bright where the ground should be. I was smiling, my heart racing, a sense of freedom and adrenalin making my very veins feel the raw freedom. With a hard push of my hands, I jumped, my body turning around itself three times before my feet hit the ground. I fell to a crouch and took a moment to look around. I was in a field, the building behind my back, green grass under my feet, and I was alone. With a new smile, I got up and halted to a run. After finding the perfect speed, I jumped, and kept jumping, my hands and feet hitting the ground over and over, my dreadlocks flying around in a freedom dance. At the end of the field I stopped, breathing hard, heart thudding happily, feeling like I was exactly where I belonged, like nothing could ever ruin that feeling, and I felt like jumping my way back to the building and climbing the walls to the roof again, just so I could jump down one more time. Eyes shining with excitement, I turned around.

The green grassed field behind me gone. Where it should have been trimmed and bright colored, the grass was tall, grayish, fluttering on the breeze, the same breeze that brought a smell that made my nose crinkle in disgust, my smile fade, my eyes harden. Something was moving among the tall grass, the putrid smell increasing with its approximation. After a moment I saw it; the rotting corpse of Bobbi-Jo approaching, moaning and groaning and snapping her jaws at my, rapidly approaching, though stumbling on her unsteady feet. I looked down at herself to check on weapons, anything I could use to defend myself. I had nothing; no weapons or clothes on. I could feel my dreadlocks scratching softly over my bare back, the breeze sending chills over my skin, my bare feet planted on the water pooled earth. I looked back at Bobbi, dread rising over my throat, and tried a step back, only to find my feet stuck on mud. Looking down again, I realized the thick, fetid mud was as red as blood. I fought against it, trying to pull my feet out, trying to escape; Bobbi was too close now and I knew for a fact that she was going to bite me, Bobbi would take her revenge for my stabbing her face repeatedly, she would turn me into one of them.

The heavy weight of a hand fell on my shoulder and I opened my mouth to scream, but my lips didn’t open, glued together and no sound rose from my throat. I couldn’t move, and the hand shook my shoulder once, and then again, roughly. I wanted to scream, to look back and see who was it, but my body simply didn’t respond to any command.

“Sam. Sam!”, I heard an urgent whisper behind my back. “Wake up!”

My eyes opened and my body finally moved as I jumped up on the couch, quickly registering the Dixon’s living room and Daryl standing by me, his wrist firmly held in my hand, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. Ya alright?”

“Shit,” I cried as I let go of him. “Sorry.”

“’S okay.” Daryl straightened up before me.

Observing the room around them a little better, I saw the light had just started to come from outside, the pale surroundings showing the sun was still rising. I rubbed my eyes and turned to rest my feet on the floor. When I jumped awake I had crawled back to nearly over the arm of the couch.

“Fuck, Daryl, we don’t have to go so soon –”

“Merle is back.”

I looked up at him, saying nothing. He nodded, confirming what he had just said before turning to go stand by the window, our usual spot for the last few days. I jumped off the couch even as I blinked hard to make my eyes work normally again, and joined him, looking out through the curtain gap below him. Outside, I saw that Merle had just parked his bike in front of the garage and was dismounting it. He had an enormous bag hanging across his back and, from where Daryl and I stood we could see he was covered in dirt and blood.

“Shit, what the hell happened to him?”

“Walker behind.” Daryl tensed, his head right above mine.

“He’ll see it.”

Merle looked around just then, clearly looking for threats, and saw the dead walking men approaching him. With a visible sigh of annoyance, Merle grabbed an axe that had been attached to his belt, on the right side of his hip, and slammed it into its skull in one continuous, practiced motion. New blood flew around, joining the almost dried out droplets that covered his shirt and vest, and the corpse fell down.

“Fuck!” I flinched at the violence of the blow

Daryl disappeared from my side, grabbed hos crossbow from where it was resting against the wall, yanked the door open and ran out of the house, aiming at yet another walker that had been approaching from the street, and took it down with an arrow through one eye.

“The fuck you been?” he shouted angrily approaching his brother.

“Hey, hey, hey, chill out little brother!” I from the door where I stopped to look them over. “Went to Owen’s place and got my stuff back.” he said as he turned to fumble within the bag attached to the motorcycle. He took his hand out of it bringing out a plastic bag. Inside, quite a good amount of a blue rocky substance.

“Ya went for the blue sky?” Daryl shouted again. “Ya fuckin’ disappeared for this shit?”

“That’s the best meth ever cooked around, bro. Ain’t gonna face the fuckin’ apocalypse clear headed. Withdrawal‘d be a bitch on the road.”

With his huge bag dancing around on his back, Merle walked quickly inside as I opened space and Daryl shot another arrow into a walker’s forehead before running to follow him in.

“We almost left you here.” Daryl barked as he entered and banged the door closed behind him. I had returned to the window, my arms crossed, now looking at the two brothers while Merle dropped the bag on the couch. I didn’t say it, but I was thinking how all the noise would attract even more dead bodies to the surroundings of the house.

“Well, ya didn’t, did ya?” Merle kept smiling and looked at me. “Hey, ya still here! Corpse didn’t get ya yet?”

“Bite me.” I said moving across the living room and into the kitchen.

“Hey, you know wha’?” he asked following me with his eyes and laughed as he zipped the bag open. “One day I might!”

“What you got there?” Daryl asked, his voice still angry, but eyeing the big bag as he approached the couch it had been dropped on.

“Been to Wildcat!” Merle announced happily as he took a smaller bag from inside the big one and then threw it at Daryl. He caught it in the air with his left hand. “Store was open, all fucked up, but I found those.”

Daryl dropped the crossbow to the ground, resting against the coffee table, and opened the pack to find it filled with at least fifty new arrows and few new strings for the crossbow. Daryl looked dumbfounded at Merle, who was not paying attention to him anymore. Instead, he fumbled over the things inside.

“Look at that, fuckin’ Christmas at the Dixon’s!”

He turned the bag upside down and tens of objects fell from it, filling the couch and falling to the floor with thuds. Finishing a bottle of water that had been already halfway empty and leaving it on the sink, I returned and joined Merle by the couch, looking down at the things.

“Where’d ya get it all?” I asked leaning down to pick up a small, compact set of camping pans.

“Ya know that expensive, full of shit store on E Broughton?”

“Sure.” I dropped the pans and reached for a flashlight.

“Got all kindsa stuff for the road. Got tents, sleeping bags, a little propane stove an’ all.”

Daryl continued in a real bad mood for a long time, but didn’t say anything else other than grunting agreements. I secretly admired Merle for having thought about all of that, since I hadn’t. In reality, I hadn’t imagined that going to stores to pick up things was an actual option, and now I felt stupid for not considering loot. It was such an obvious solution.

“‘S getting late, we should go.” I stated quietly as I started sorting things to put back into Merle’s bag.

“Yeah, all we gotta do now is stuff all them heavy bags on the bike, three of us hop on it, and we’ll be on our merry way.” Merle joked aloud, but I could hear some seriousness on his voice. He was at the window, looking out and pointing at the bike as he spoke.

“Fuck!” Daryl said and joined him. “How’d we not think of that?”

“Didn’t you use to have a truck?” I asked them.

“Yeah, it’s at the garage now with a fucked up carburetor.” Daryl told me, not turning from the window. “Don’t think them mechanics’ workin’ on it now.”

My heart sank. If there was only the bike, and it belonged to Merle, I realized with a weird, foreign pang in my chest that it was obvious he and Daryl would be going away on it. There was no space for me. For a moment I felt an incredible sadness take over, an even permitted myself to wonder for a moment what the hell I was going to do without those two in my life. The thought scared me more than the dream I’d been awaken from no more than one hour ago. Barely two weeks before these men were my neighbors, people who I never talked to, and who were a terror for me. Merle with his hurting comments, Daryl with his indifference, their friends with their raw violence. I had always avoided them like the devil, and now I felt something close to emptiness at the thought they’d be leaving me behind; at the thought that I, in fact, did not belong there.

As the two brothers discussed something by the window, I refused to even try o listen to it. Quietly I moved to where my bags rested against a wall and started picking them up, readying myself to depart alone, trying hard to ignore the tightness on my throat.

“The fuck ya doin’?”

I turned to see Merle and Daryl looking at me, Merle having asked that, frowning. I just looked at them for a second before returning to my task. “I’m going.” I told them simply.

“No ya not,” Daryl snorted.

“Course I am!” I forced the fucking feelings behind a wall of anger. “Is just obvious, right? Three people, one bike, just do the math.”

“How ya plannin’ to take the road?” Merle crossed his arms, defying me. “Nice ass ‘n green eyes ain’t gonna help ya now, sugar.”

“Not your problem anymore.” I mumbled quietly picking up the second bag, hating that he was actually right. “Thanks for having me; I’ll take care of myself now.”

I heard Daryl breath out loudly, clearly annoyed, and move from the window. I didn’t look at him anymore, just adjusted the two bags on me the best I could, brow furred at the thought of how I’d be able to walk or do anything else while carrying all that weight.

“Ya jus’ talking shit now, Sammy,” Merle grinned.

“Don’t call me that.” God, I hated this stupid nickname. I turned to face the man and stopped him as he opened his smirking mouth to say more. “Look, I don’t even know how I ended up here in your house in the first place. Again, thanks for having me here, but –”

“Fuckin’ hell, girly, just shut the fuck up!” Merle raised his voice.

“The fuck did ya say to me?” now he got me angry for real, who the fuck did he think he was tell me to shut up? I took angry steps towards him, looking up. He was even taller than Daryl.

“We’ll find a fuckin’ way, Sammy-Sammy!” he grinned even more, finding great fun in my anger.

“I told ya to not –”

“Would ya girls just shut up?” Daryl shouted from the door and both Merle and I looked at him. “Jus’ stay here, I’ll be back.”

With that, he opened the door, crossbow in hand, and left the house, banging the door closed at his back.

“Fuck!” I bellowed. “You fuckin’ Dixons have got to stop fuckin leaving like that!”

Merle still smirked but he was a bit astonished by his brother sudden departure as well. We exchanged a look and I walked away from him. I’d never been alone with Merle before, even being in his house or all those days.

“Where ya goin’, chickabiddy?” Merle cooed falling to the couch as I walked along the hallway.

“Away from you.”

* * *

“I can see four from here.”

“We can take four,” Merle said more quietly than I had ever heard him speak. I moved from the window holding up the axe Merle had brought with him from his scavenging trip. He looked at it and grinned. “Like the axe huh, muffin?”

“Yeah, pretty bad-ass. Let’s see how I handle it.”

I opened the door and peaked outside before stepping out, Merle close behind me. We were both geared with two guns each, plus knives, the axe and a crowbar. We’d been waiting for over two hours, the sun was already higher in the sky than what I had wished it to be by the time we left the house, and Daryl was still not back. I had decided Merle and I should go look for him because we were wasting time, but I was actually terrified that something had happened to him, alone out there. Merle had pretended to agree with me, but I know he also dreaded the thought that his brother could be one of the corpses around now.

The four walkers saw us coming and charged at us. I tested the axe in one of their skulls; it crashed into it easily, even though the axe was heavy, and I had to step on his forehead to force the axe out, but other than that I thought it was pretty neat. I could get used to that. Now sideways, I did the same to the second one, and felt an odd satisfaction as it crumpled to the ground. Damn, odd satisfaction.

I looked over at Merle as I took the axe off, and he was just knocking the last one of them to the ground with the crowbar. He grinned at me seeing my done job at my share of two corpses.

“Let’s go.” I didn’t smile back, even though I understood his. I was too worried.

We moved with quick steps to the middle of the street and looked around. Two more walkers were on the end of the street to our left, but far enough not to be a problem now, and one more on the corner, a few yards away. We started moving to our right, towards the corner with the main street, but the sound of a motor made us stop. We both reached for the guns and pointed it in the direction of the corner, waiting to see what it was. A moment later an old, noisy blue truck turned the corner and kept moving towards us. The sun reflected on the windshield, protecting the driver from being seen, forcing Merle and I to maintain our guns pointed and ready. When the truck got closer, the reflection gave way to show it was Daryl driving.

I breathed out loudly lowering the gun and he approached with the truck, slowing down as he passed by us.

“Let’s load it and get the fuck outta here.” he told us, his head out of the window, ignoring the fact that we had been pointing guns at him until seconds ago. He kept on to the house, where he parked with the back of it close to the bike.

I ran to the house as I holstered the gun again after dropping the axe to the yellowing grass and started bringing all the bags out, pilling them down on the side of the truck.

“Where did ya get it?” I asked Daryl as Merle fumbled with the bike and he was taking the arrows from the heads of the walkers he had shot hours ago.

“Mr. Walker’s garage. Was locked, had to break in and kill his brother inside. Half his face was missin’.”

As I reentered the house and returned with the last of the bags, I saw the them lift the front of the bike to the back of the truck, struggling with its weight.

“Walkers.” I told them when I saw two more approach and once again took the axe from the ground.

“That what ya callin’ ‘em now?” Merle asked as he hopped up to the back of the truck.

“You got ‘em?” Daryl asked ignoring the question.

“I got ‘em, keep up.” I said rushing over to the walkers, not waiting for them to get to me. I finished one quickly with the axe, but as I forced it out of its skull, the other one approached from my left. I let go of the axe but had no time to reach for other weapon, taking on my only choice. I made a quick turnaround herself, left leg raising up strongly with my motion to hit the walker straight in the face. There was a loud noise of bone breaking before it crumpled heavily to the floor but didn’t stop moving. I turned quickly to the axe, stepped on the walker’s head and yanked it out, moving it down to the other in one fluid motion. I was breathing heavily as I looked down at the two corpses and then back at the Dixon’s, who had stopped moving the bike up and were staring openly at me.

“Shit, didn’t know ya can do that!” Merle laughed.

I didn’t respond. Instead of giving them attention, I ran quickly towards Daryl. His eyes widened as he saw a tattooed woman covered in blood with the axe raised running towards him, features hardened.

“Duck!” I shouted and he didn’t even think before doing so. He crouched down in time to see me jump and fly above him, one leg stretched out to knock a walker down, hitting it in the chest. I had barely landed to the ground when I shoved the axe into its skull.

I looked back at Daryl, chest rising and falling strongly. “They’re fuckin’ loud, how didn’t ya hear it?” I barked angrily. We couldn’t afford that kind is recklessness now.

He didn’t answer, stunned, and I walked away and started looking around. Merle and Daryl restarted lifting the bike and I took guard. When it was up, Merle took care of chaining it to the bed of the truck as Daryl lifted the bags into it, fitting them on the little space there was around the bike.

“Fuck! We’re too loud, they’re comin’!” I told them when walkers started to appear from the space between my house and theirs, and another few from the street.

Merle repeated my choice of cursing as he jumped out of the truck, crowbar again in hand. He and Daryl moved close to me, weapons ready. More walkers started appearing from the street, the back of the house, the neighbor’s lawns, even from inside my own house, and in instants were surrounding us. I thought dead people were supposed to be slow, shouldn’t they be? We dealt the closer that were closer, but the noise seemed to be attracting even more.

“We gotta move!”, Merle shouted.

We started moving closer to the car, back to back forming a misshaped circle, Daryl and I killing the corpses that were standing in between and Merle stopping others from approaching. Daryl opened the truck passenger door, its movement sending a walker stumbling backwards.

“Get in!” he turned to me, grabbing my arm strongly and all but shoving me inside like I was Raggedy Ann. “Merle, come on!” he shouted at his brother, who was laughing hysterically and taking one of his guns out of the holster. Merle shot one walker straight in the middle of its forehead and aimed to the next one, and then the next.

“Stop fuckin’ around!” I shouted from the inside as I turned the key to start the truck. A walker was banging its fists on the window by my side, some sort of goo plastering the glass. “Let’s go!”

Merle turned and Daryl climbed into de truck just before him. Merle slammed the door shut just as I started moving away from the garage entrance.

“Shit, ya fuckin’ insane!” Daryl said, chest having. He had seen walkers way too close to his brother.

“Wasting bullets!” was all I could say of all the things I was thinking, my voice shriek denouncing how nervous I was.

“We own them!” Merle shouted, laughing as opened the window by his side. “We fuckin’ own ‘em!” he put his head and arm outside as I drove away. “Adios, motherfuckers! Hasta la vista, fuckin’ 7th street! Hope I never see ya again!”

I shook my head, feeling like yelling some more at him, but refrained. Instead, I surprised myself by barking a full, loud guffaw, his words warming something inside me. Merle looked at me, still laughing, leaving Daryl in the between us looking dumbfounded from side to side. We laughed even more, looking at each other, and I felt an amazing, odd satisfaction as I filled my lungs with air that did not smell good at all, but felt tastier than ever, and, looking to the street that stretched before us, shouted “Fuck you, Garden City!”

* * *

A short 32 miles trip should have taken them no more than forty minutes to cover, but the abandoned cars on traffic at the entrances of towns on US 80 made our progress much slower. I had to drive out of the road for more than five miles, and when we reached the town of Eden I had to enter the village and drive by a herd of about twenty walkers, slowly, to only then return to the road. It was past lunch time when we decided to stop. There was a gas station on the entrance of Stilson that was apparently safe, with no walkers in sight.

“Less than a quarter of tank.” I told them as I moved the stick to park.

The place was abandoned. There were cars around, a big sign informing there was no gas, and no people around, living or dead. We hopped out of the car and spread out to look for supplies. Merle and Daryl took the time to look for fuel in the tanks of abandoned cars while I went through them to see if I could find something useful. I did find a few pills inside glove compartments, abandoned cans of soda, a bag of Doritos. In the trunk of one of the cars, a travelling bag with clothes, shoes and toiletries.

After carrying a new bag filled with the findings to the truck, I checked that Daryl and Merle were still in their search for gas, so I stood on the edge of the road, facing a big empty field, and lit up a cigarette. It was all still surreal. Like a movie. Being here, in the middle of the road, which was completely deserted, getting gas for the truck with the Dixons while the world had gone to shit.

“Hey” Daryl was approaching. He didn’t ask, but I handed him the pack of Morleys. “Got somethin’ good?”

“Yeah, whole new bag of stuff.”

Daryl lit his cigarette and pulled, now standing beside me and also looking at the field and road. He was silent for a moment until he questioned “What d’ya think we gonna find in Atlanta?”

“Honest?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothin’.”

“What?” he looked surprised at me.

I’d been thinking about that for a while now. I knew if there was something we had to try, it was going to Atlanta. First thing, I thought, because I really didn’t want to believe we’d find help there. If there was an active place, they’d still be broadcasting something, telling people there was a shelter, that they could still do there, but the radios were silent for days now.

‘“Been almost two weeks since day one. We heard ‘bout the shelter on the radio almost a week ago. The whole population of fuckin’ Georgia heard it. No room for so many.”

“So why we goin’ there?”

“’Cause I ain’t sure, I just guess. Gotta try, don’t we?”

I looked at him, who stared right back and didn’t answer, worry creasing his forehead. Finally he pulled on his cigarette again and looked away, head moving slowly up and down in a nod.

“Yeah, got nothin’ else to do anyway. But hey, don’t say that to Merle. He’ll get pissed and leave again.”

“’Course. Just don’t know what to do it turns out I’m right.”

“We’ll figure.” he said and we went silent again for a minute. “Think we should check in there,” Daryl said pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, “may find some food.”

“Sure.” I agreed and looked towards the diner, only to see a walker stumbling towards the us. “Oh, fuck, can’t ya jus’ gimme a break?”

Daryl looked to the same direction and snorted a quick laugh before turning again to me. “Here, hold this,” he handed me his half cigarette. “Don’t smoke it.” he pointed a finger after I took it. Daryl swung the crossbow from his back, held it up and shot the corpse without much of a thought. I gave him the cig back when he turned to me again, a small smirk on his lips. I smiled at him a little and we finished smoking in silence. I didn’t want to keep smiling like a loon at him or he’d know I thought he looked hot just then, with his confidence and his arms tensioning with the heavy crossbow. So I just smoked quietly.

As we turned towards the diner, butts of our smokes thrown on the road, we saw Merle coming back from the parking lot behind it.

“Hey! Whatcha pussies doing standing there? Got nothin’ else to do? I ain’t gonna do all the work alone!”

“We got the gas already.” Daryl said when we met halfway. “Jus’ gotta fill the tank.”

“Ya coming on to her already little brother?”, Merle asked aloud and I rolled my eyes, walking further from them towards the diner. “Think ya gonna get ya nice piece of ass now?”

“Shut up, Merle!” I heard Daryl shout and turned to them.

“Hey, cut it out!” I ordered. “We got things to do.”

“Yeah, you got things to do.” Merle turned away from Daryl, moving to me. “Ya not gonna get off the hard work ‘cause ya girl. Little brother and I got all the gas for the tank, what the fuck did ya do? Stood there smokin’ like a smokin’ princess?”

“I got us fuckin’ supplies, not that I owe ya any explanation. And back the fuck off!”, I shouted, a hand extended between us as he got too close for comfort.

He laughed looking down at me, “Nervous, love? Don’t want no men close to ya personal space? Or ya jus’ don’t like no man at all?”

“She said back off,” Daryl said approaching and then forcefully shoved Merle away from me, “get the fuck away!”

“The fuck is wrong with you, brother?” Merle asked him, both now staring at each other. “The girl can look after herself, ain’t that what she always sayin’?”

“I don’t give it a fuck; you stay away from her!”

Fuck, I’d seem them start sudden fights like that before, many times at the house, but was it now about me? I didn’t wanna hear it. I had already walked away from them. It was enough that the world was ending and I had no home or any knowledge of what was going on, I didn’t want to have to deal with the Dixons fights. They were big boys; let them solve their own problems. One thing I had learned in those two weeks was that, when from the outside I had believed they were close, friends, and liked the same things, now from up close I was sure they had problems, deeper than I could imagine. It was a love-hate relationship that was only theirs. And it was increasingly clear to me how they were not similar. I mean, at all.

I walked to the diner door, peeking inside, still listening to their raised voices but not making out what they were saying. Just as I slowly pushed the door open they joined me quietly, but I could practically feel Daryl seething. I said nothing, trying to convince myself it was their problem and I shouldn’t meddle. None of us spoke, in fact, just raised our weapons as we entered. It was a small place so it didn’t take long to check it was completely empty.

“Been looted already.” Merle spoke looking around at the useless things thrown on the floor.

“We should see if there’s toilet paper in the restrooms.” I told either one of them as I crouched down to pick up an abandoned purse from the floor. Opening it, I found a wallet with money in it, but left it there; there was no use for money now. On the driver’s license, I saw the name of its owner. “Well, dear Abby, if you excuse me, I’m gonna go through your stuff.”

There was a plastic bag with three Mars bars, a half a tic-tac pack, a pen, an uncharged cell phone, a very ugly pink lipstick and, inside another pocket of the purse, a box of tampons. I stared at them for a moment, making a mental note to think about what it reminded me later, my mind quickly shutting it down, and took the box along with the mars bars. Merle came out of the restroom carrying a big roll of toilet paper and a pack of baby wipes and met Daryl by the cashier, from where he was leaving with a package containing about twenty lighters. Seeing there was nothing else that could be useful in there, we decided it was time to fill the tank and hit the road. I was already at the driver’s seat when they got to the car, throwing things on the truck.

“Who made ya the official driver in this trip?” Merle said as he sat by my side and Daryl climbed in after him.

“I did.” I told him half mindedly while fumbling with the radio dial. “Would ya try it again?”

“’S no use, but whatever.”

We’d been on the road again for less than five minutes when the radio finally tuned into something understandable. I jumped a little and we all went very silent as Merle found the best position, and then just listened.

“Reports from the state of New York, New Hempshire and Maine recently informed their main cities to have gone down. Manhattan had to be bombed in a try to contain the spread of the parasite but –” the transmission got lost for a moment and then returned.

“We recently lost contact with California. Oregon had been also lost on our last communication –”

“May God help us all –”

“It’s a national crisis, the White House hasn’t made any kind of announcement in almost a week –”

“We are not even sure if this all is really only happening in America. We heard reports about Mexico, but not too complete inf –”

“We heard hours ago that Denver was bombed, just like they did Manhattan, and other main cities in Colo –”

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive our sins –”

Daryl leaned over and roughly turned off the radio. For a long time, what could have been the best part of an hour, the only sound we heard was the heavy motor of the truck.

“Down from coast to coast.” Merle broke the silence in a low, grave voice. “Why’d it be different in Atlanta?”

“You got any other idea?” I asked in the same low voice.

He thought for a long moment. I looked at him and then at Daryl, who was looking out at the road, biting the inside of his lower lip.

“The coast, maybe?” I suggested. “There might be food…”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Daryl agreed after a moment. “We can do that.”

“Yeah.” I whispered as Merle only nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But, just… We gotta get to Atlanta first. Take a look. At least we’ll be sure if it went down.” I got no answer, they both only nodded.

“Okay.” I affirmed mostly to myself.

“There’s Statesboro.” Daryl said as we approached the city.

“Shit, look at that place…” Merle said leaning forward. “All gone too.”

“Hard to believe there’s no one here,” I wondered. “Or anywhere. I mean, where is everybody?”

“If they had somethin’ to escape,” Daryl started, bitterly, “then we shouldn’t be here neither.”

“What if there’s people hiding? People needing help, and there’s no one to help them? I don’t see any authority, I mean, fire department, police, ambulance…”

“Don’t think there is any of that no more”, Daryl stated. “Probably escaped as well.”

“What if –” I kept on but paused. “Fuck, look at that,” I pointed at a dead body on the road, a vulture sitting on its chest, feasting on the flesh of its stomach.

“What if what?” Merle asked, ignoring it.

“What if we find people who need help? What do we do?”

“Depends on the kinda help.” Daryl said. “Only so much we could do.”

“We ain’t helping no one.” Merle had his voice normal again. “Got no space in the truck and I ain’t sharing our things. Ya expect people around to help ya if ya need it? Bullshit. People will only look after their own asses.”

“Shit, of course nobody would help you, Merle.” I emphasized the you, making Merle and Daryl look at me. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole.” I finished and heard Daryl snort a laugh. I looked at him for a moment and returned to Merle. “Why would anyone help you?”

“Well, you would help me, love!” Merle smiled.

“Yeah, maybe I’m an asshole too.”

In downtown Statesboro, I made a turn to the left taking South Main St while telling them “We’ll take S Main straight down to 301 and from there take 16 straight to Atlanta.”

“Ya know this place?” Daryl asked looking at me past his brother.

“Yeah. Stayed here more often than back home for a while. A freakin’ square close to Wall Mart.”

Merle snorted a loud laugh, “Sounds like a junkie spot to me.”

I didn’t look at the two men by my side, internally slapping myself in the face for mentioning it. They didn’t speak either and even without looking at them I could feel they were both staring, maybe waiting for me to correct Merle, but I didn’t. Instead, I just mumbled “Yeah…” and remained quiet for a very long time.

We decided not to stop in Macon as well, instead just passed by it. The difference, this time, was that we saw people. There was a group looting a supermarket, two men breaking the window of a car to steal it, a man nailing wooden planks to the window of a store, but more than anything else, we saw cars moving towards the road. Not just a few. A woman shot a walker in the head right in the middle of the street before running away. Our windows were closed and door locked as I sped up. Our stuff was in the back, if I drove too slow people could try to get to it. If it didn’t feel safe, it probably wasn’t.

The sun had already started to go down and give way to the night when we left the freeway, driving on the side road instead, slowly enough to look for a place to stay that night. We drove by a large grassy lawn close to Forsyth and could see a few small wooden camping cabins among sparse trees. It was the entrance of a park and seemed to be voided of any life. We drove by and returned a couple of times, hoping the noise of the truck would attract any walkers around so we’d know what we’d have to deal with. As none appeared, I drove the truck over the grass, very slowly, until stopping between the two first little cabins. Nobody said a word for a while as we looked around and, silently, climbed off the car.

The cabins were disposed in two rows that faced each other and were, now we could see, five on each row, tiny, barely existent porches in front of them. Everything was silent as we exchanged looks. Daryl gestured Merle to go check on the back of the left row of cabins and to me to check the middle space between them. We nodded and moved to our specific spots as Daryl went to the back of the row on our right.

Reaching the space between the second and third cabins, I saw a walker between the one on the right, close to where Daryl had also just seen it. The walker seemed dormant, but looked big and strong, probably recently turned, I gathered. Across from it, Daryl and I exchanged a look just as the walker turned its head to Daryl, who was much closer to him, and growled. I immediately brought my fingers to my lips and let out a sharp, loud whistle. Without pausing, the walker turned, his dead, yellowed eyes focusing on me. He turned and gave his back to Daryl, who took no time thinking before rushing over to it. He grabbed his hair and pulled the head back, his knife being stabbed into the eye socket to the hilt. He pulled the knife out before letting the body fall to the ground. After eyeing it for another moment, he looked up to see me still there. He nodded, head down but eyes on me, and we both moved along.

When we met in the end of the rows of cabins, we saw the neck of woods descended slightly into the park and, a few yards away, a group of four walkers feasting on a dead dear. Merle raised the rifle he had been carrying and took aim, silently. I was by his side and reached out to touch on the barrel close to his hand, and tugged it down. Merle looked at me, a mixture of a question and irritation in his eyes. I answered by bringing a finger over my lips, asking for silence. I don’t know how he hadn’t get yet that noise attracts walkers. A frown in his forehead, he lowered the rifle in time to see the first arrow silently fly out of his brother’s crossbow, hitting the first of the four walkers square in the back of the head. The other three didn’t seem no notice anything was wrong, giving time for Daryl to reload his weapon and shoot again. When the second walker fell to the ground, the other two noticed our presence. One of them kept eating, to engross on the fresh meat in front of him to desire a new hunt. The other, a female wearing torn pant suits, got up and made its way up the ground of the forest towards us.

“Got it.” Merle said as he extended the rifle to me and I took it without question. He unsheathed one of his knives and stepped towards it as Daryl took aim at the last one. Both walkers were gone at the same moment.

“Think it’s clear,” I told them as Daryl went to retrieve back his arrows and Merle cleaned the knife on the fabric of the walker’s clothes. “Gotta check inside the cabins now. I’m thinking we use two of ‘em, two of us sleep and one take guard.” I turned to lead them back when they were ready to go. “This place seems too good, someone else’s definitely gonna wanna be here.”

The inside of the cabins was clear. We checked all of them through the windows, since all the doors were tightly locked, and chose the two first ones to sleep in. We successfully broke in to find the space was even smaller than we’d thought; single bed, a small dresser, and nothing else. It was simply perfect for our first night on the road.

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