#i didn’t tell my mom he said this or she’d lose her shit

[honeypleasejustkillme]

it’s taken this man 19 years to say this, when he wasn’t even the one to raise me… he’s completely out of touch with reality and now i know where i get the delusional trait from cuz wtf

[romaevelizz]

Crush Culture˖ ࣪⊹

VII. Warmth

sum: him being patient as he waited till he could feel her touch again.

warnings: fluff, long distance,not proofread, dramatic reunion.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Laying on his back as he stare up at the ceiling, they had been texting for days. Constant calls, as they talked about any this even sitting in silences as they did their own thing the phone propped up. His eyes scanning the picture he’s collect if her through face time, may it be her sitting down doing her make up, washing her face, eating or drawing. How when she sat in her bed her legs crossed and she leaned over her iPad then complained that her back always hurt. How she’d answer the phone at any hour he called her, her sleepy voice echoing through his ears.

She learned that maybe he was a bit more clingy then he showed himself, him softly saying he missed her voice or wanted to see her face. How he asked over and over when she’d finally be down so he could see her.

Yamaguchi loved asking Kei about her asking how she was, watching as his best friend would grin softly giving him vague answer that soon turn into a small story, his smile never leaving his face. This didn’t go unnoticed by his family either how kei would walk down to the kitchen his face in his phone, a small giddy grin on his face that when mentioned he’d always say it was nothing. How he’d have his phone sitting on the table watching a messages she would send, god he missed her.

But he never voiced it maybe in subtle ways, how he’d ask when she’d come down finally getting a date out if you. That shed be coming up 4th of July weekend, he just had to wait a few more days. He wanted to tell her that he missed her but he couldn’t, he couldn’t wait till his stomach filled with butterflies when she kissed him. He couldn’t wait to hold her hand and touchher face again.

The ding of his phone made him sit up quickly grabbing his phone from the table next to the couch.

shit.. she talked about him a lot, why did he like. Why he said was bullshit. He did talk about you, to his dad.. wierd maybe but he knew he wouldn’t make a big deal out if it and constantly be in his business. As much as he loved his mother… he just couldn’t go to her but not he really didn’t have any other choice.

“Mom..” he hummed leaning on the arm looking at his mother who sat next to him curled up in a blanket as they watched a movie together.

“What’s up Kei?” She asked smile over at him.

“I need to tell you something, promise you won’t like freak out.” He muttered playing with his hands.

She shifted her position her back leaning against the arm, “what’s wrong honey?” She asked her tone a bit worried now.

He took a deep breath, “I’m talking to someone..”

“You have a girlfriend!” She spoke coving her mouth quickly after watching his face. “Sorry oh my gosh sorry! It exciting news when can I meet her when-“

“She’s gonna be up visiting from Tokyo tomorrow, she’s the reason I’ve been all in my phone.” He muttered pulling at the lose skin on his fingers.

She smiled “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before just nervous I guess, but I really do like her. She’s.. she’s really nice to be around and I like her attitude, I think you’ll like her a lot. She’s very family oriented, outgoing, pretty, smart and I could go on. But umm, she’s from Nekoma which is why she visiting, her and her family are coming up for the festival and staying with some family friends.” He spoke, he could feel his mother’s happiness radiating off of her as he did.

She knew her son’s perspective on relationships and girls and then hearing this made her happy. That he wasn’t afraid to let someone in, that he was willing to open himself to something new to a new person. That he really did like her, how his face flushed as he spoke about her. “Can I see some pictures?” She asked. Kei looked up, nodding as he grabbed his phone.

Showing pictures of her that he’d taken those ones either of her eating or some showing of an outfit, she was pretty. Her smile big in every photo he showed her, how her shoulder lifted when she had her hands on her hips. Others some she had sent him, her dark complexion so radiant, her eyes wide and a gorgeous smile plastered on her pretty features, her hair almost always styled. Her confidence in her own body and looks were so strong through a simple picture. Then in the other few her face was relaxed as she did whatever she was doing, Kei taking so pictures while she drew or baked her natural hair framing her face perfectly.

“She’s gorgeous Kei..”

“I know..” he said looking at the photos before looking back at her.

“Stop, mom don’t cry!” He panicked watching his mom’s lip quiver.

She waved her hands whipping her face “I can’t wait to meet her Baby.”

A subtle ding ring through her ears making her turn her body, picking up her phone she read

“My mom thinks you’re gorgeous by the way.”

A smile crept on her lips, ‘am I a girlfriend or someone you’re talking to.’

She watched as her phone began to ring picking it up his voice spoke up “You’re my Girlfriend.”

“Oh am I?” She giggled.

“Yes, and don’t be to disappointed, but I will ask you probably but I hate saying your someone I’m taking to because you are much more than that. Best fix. You’re my girlfriend.” He said.

“I’m perfectly fine with that..” she hummed pausing, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Tomorrow evening right?”

“Yes we’re riding the train up.” He could hear her smile.

“So I’ll meet you at the train station?”

“I would love that..” she said “I would like that a lot..”

“Good, you better get to sleep..”

“Goodnight kei.” She muttered.

“I’m sorry who?” He sassed, earning a laugh from her.

“Goodnight Stalker.” She scoffed.

“Mm goodnight brat..” he said. The line dying once she hung up, a big sigh leaving his lips as he fell back onto his bed.

He would get to see her tomorrow, all he had to do was wait. And god would waiting be worth it, worth watching her face light up once she saw him dropping her luggage before running over to him. Him smiling as she ran over to him his smile like a frown smile. The feeling of her weight on him as she latched onto him her arms wrapping around his back as he lifted her off the ground a bit. His hind on her becoming tighter as his head fell into her neck taking in her sent. God he missed her smell, the warmth of her body. She pulled back smiling kissing his face, as he hands held him gently.

“Ugh I’ve missed your grouchy face!” She smiled.

“ I’ve missed you too..” he muttered his eyes meeting hers, he watched her eyes look down to the flowers in his hand.

“They’re for you!” He spoke nervously handing her the flowers, a pretty bouquet all of her favorite flowers.

“They’re gorgeous,” she smiled taking them, her eyes meeting his. “So this is yo lil Boyfriend!” A women said from behind her.

“Kei this is my older sister Vanessa,” she sighed.

“You ready to meet everyone else?” She asked grabbing his hand.

He gulped nodding.

Shaking hands with her dad was the scariest part, he was by no means a small man he was well over 6’3 big and burly, his arms decorated in tattoos, his head bald. But even when her father gave him a smile he still wanted to shit his pants. Her mother was also a bit nerve racking, but she was kind offering him a kind smile from the beginning. Her older brothers trying to be intimidated but came off as dicks only to apologize after. Her two older sisters smiling teasing poor kei, then her younger siblings, Caleb being rhetorical only one who glared at him for a minute shaking his hand he watched as he gave you a side glace causing you to punch him. The two youngest were just polite having manners they new they needed with new people.

“Not that bad hm?”

“Your dad definitely made me piss my pants same with Michael..” he muttered.

“Please Micky is harmless!”

She laughed watching the blond sigh he head falling a bit, as he grabbed her bag. Her hands grabbing his face kissing his lips softly, before they began to walk. God it was so easy to make his heart flutter.

“Do you have a friend Kei?” She asked suddenly looking up from her phone.

“Why..?”

“Well the family friend I’m staying with is my best friend butttt I wanna hang out with you, but she also wants to kind hangout with me so she asked if you had a friend so she wasn’t third wheeling.?” She smiled.

A double date, hmm. Doesn’t sound bad plus he’d get to spend the evening with her and he just had to drag Tadashi along.. “I’ll ask. But I could make it work what time do you wanna meet up? I know you’re close to me.”

He nodded “yeah we could head down to the night market I know the have some carnival stuff going on for the festival. Rides, games hella food!” She spoke happily.

“Yeah I’ll get him on borde.” He spoke the feeling of her fingers linking with his making him stutter.

“Perfect then! It’s a Two Man!”

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 6

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, alcoholism behavior, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: Look ma, no smut! Sorry, things are still rough for a l'il bit. Shit's getting plottier. CW for some alcoholic-like behavior, so y'know, take care of yourself.

(Also, I recognize that technically Sarah died the day after Joel's birthday, but in my head, it's all one big, awful day for him.)

“Are you mad at me?”

Her voice is so small when she asks the question, seated at the kitchen table across from him as he changes the dressing on her burn. She’d stubbornly refused his help at first, but applying the gauze and tape one-handed was trickier than it looked, and she eventually caved, trudging downstairs to sit at the kitchen table while he goes over the burn care instructions from the clinic.

“Damn right I am,” he growls, narrowing his eyes as he dabs salve on the gauze to prevent it from sticking to the damaged skin before lightly recovering the wound. He finishes applying the last piece of tape, then he sighs and sinks back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “No. That ain’t it. I’m not…mad, Ellie. I’m just worried about you.”

He swallows hard, choosing his next words carefully, always on thin ice.

“We can’t keep goin’ like this, kid,” he murmurs. “You gotta start talkin’ to me.”

“I know,” she whispers, biting at her lower lip. “Ezra said I should tell you.”

The name puts a lump in his throat. He pretends to be very interested in putting the first aid supplies away. “He did, huh?”

“But I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“Yeah, I woulda,” he snaps, then sighs when she winces. “I just…I don’t get what you were thinkin’, Ellie. But…I want to understand. I’m tryin’ to.”

He tucks everything back into the plastic box and latches it, shoving it aside before turning to meet her eyes, trying to keep his voice soft and level. “Can you help me understand?”

She flinches. “It’s just…every time I see that stupid scar, I remember…I remember them. Riley and Tess and Sam and Henry and…it’s like a big fucking flashing sign reminding me that they died for nothing–“

“That’s not–“

“No,” she cuts in. “You wanted to understand and I’m trying to fucking tell you so just let me talk.”

He sits back, stung. “Alright.”

“This stupid scar…it was supposed to mean something. But it didn’t work out, and now…it’s just a reminder of everything I couldn’t do. And I didn’t want to look at it anymore.”

“That wasn’t…Marlene should never have put that on you,” he says. “You’re just a–“

She scoffs. “I’m ‘just a kid’, right? Because that’s all I’ve ever been. Marlene didn’t ‘put that on me,’ Joel. She believed in me.”

Her fist clenches on the table, and all Joel can think is how much it must hurt, the way her forearm tightens, pulling at the damaged skin. His hand reflexively comes out to cover hers, but she yanks it back.

“You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without anyone . You had your brother and Tess and…and Sarah. People who needed you. But all I had was Riley, and even she fucking left.

“But Marlene saw me and it was like…like I was more than just another dumb FEDRA kid. She knew my mom, she…knew me before anyone else. And she gave me a purpose. And every time I look at that stupid scar, I…I’m just…it’s like I lose that all over again.”

His hands twitch with the effort it takes to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. The only thing that stops him is shame, the knowledge that he’d been the one to put a bullet between Marlene’s eyes, and what Ellie would think of him if she knew.

“Baby girl,” he begins slowly. “ I believe in you. Tommy an’ Maria an’…an’ Ezra. We’re all here for you . We need you . Not your immunity, not some…some fairytale cure. Just you, Ellie.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah…I know.”

He shakes his head, takes her face in his hands as she’s trying to look away. “No, I don’t think you do. And you need to get it through that stubborn head of yours before you hurt yourself again, y’hear me?”

She looks like she wants to say more, but doesn’t. She just nods, eyes shining. And then he can’t resist, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead, standing so he can pull her into a hug.

“C’mere.”

And she does, wrapping her good arm around his waist, pressing her face to his chest.

“You…are the only thing that matters here, Ellie,” he says softly. “You. Just you, kid.”

Summer bleeds into fall and Ellie goes back to school. Her arm heals, the old scar covered by a new one that doesn’t betray her immunity. For all Joel’s reservations, the burn seems to have helped put something right in her, and she comes back to him in increments.

She’s eating again, sneaking her portion of venison steak onto his plate and stealing his dinner roll when she thinks he’s not looking. She even suggests they set up a weekly dinner around the new fire pit while the weather holds. She meets him at the stables after patrol so they can walk home together. The light slowly comes back into her eyes.

She’s still seeing Ezra. Joel is not.

They sit on the back porch together at night and he shows her the basics on her guitar, but he can’t bring himself to play. When thoughts of Ezra surface, he pushes them roughly aside and turns back to her. This is what he knows, this is what he’s made for. It’s for the best, he tells himself, and it’s even easier to believe when Ellie smiles.

But sometimes at night, when his body aches from a long day’s work and his mind refuses to still, he misses him.

And then it’s the worst day of the year.

They have an understanding–no presents, no parties, there’s nothing to celebrate. But he compromises because it’s Ellie and because she’s warming up to him again. They’ll have dinner at home, just the two of them. He thinks he overhears something about a cake. Maybe they’ll eat outside and look at the stars.

It’s a plan, but it doesn’t stop him from counting down the late September days with dread and wishing he could sleep through it. Ellie’s presence soothes the ache, but at times like this it’s a band-aid over a gunshot wound.

Tommy doesn’t question it when he asks for an overnight patrol shift the night before, a double, returning in the late morning. He intends to wear himself out, come home, and sleep until dinner.

When the sleep part doesn’t pan out and he has nothing better to do, he drinks. He drinks until his personal stash is depleted, desperate to kill the hours. The Bison doesn’t open until four, but he can’t stare at the ceiling for another second, so he puts on his boots and goes for a walk.

And then he’s standing in front of Ezra’s house. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks this is probably the post-apocalyptic equivalent of drunk-dialing his ex, but his judgment is too far gone by the time he finds himself on the porch, knuckles tingling from the knock.

Ezra looks him up and down, forgoing the greeting.

“How far down the rabbit hole are you, songbird?”

“Not far enough,” he mutters. “Can I come in?”

There’s a moment where he’s sure he’ll be turned away. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Joel would probably tell him to fuck off. But Ezra opens the door.

“I have a prior engagement,” he says, clipped, nodding at the closed office door. “Twenty minutes. You can wait in the kitchen.”

Joel nods mutely, aims his steps down the hall. After only a fleeting hesitation, he helps himself to the liquor that Ezra keeps in the cupboard. For strictly medicinal purposes, he’d once said with a coy little smirk, and Joel had rolled his eyes. Now he thinks this is exactly the kind of medicine he needs, and he doesn’t have to show his face at the Bison to get it.

He’s two more drinks in by the time he hears the front door open and close, then Ezra’s footsteps in the hall.

“Ez,” Joel nods, already feeling the effects. He’s been generous with his pours.

“Songbird,” he murmurs, eyeing the half-full glass on the table, the bottle looking leaner.

“I ran out,” Joel mutters, holding up his drink. “Figured it’s a commune. We share.”

Ezra grabs a glass from the cupboard, slides it across the table, and lets Joel pour. He tops up his drink as Ezra takes a seat.

Somehow he’s both too drunk and not drunk enough for whatever comes next.

“To what foul fortune are we drinking at,” Ezra pauses, squints at the clock, “two in the afternoon?”

“Forgetting,” Joel says after a pause.

“To the dissolution of memory,” Ezra murmurs, touching their glasses and downing his portion with a grimace. Joel doesn’t flinch. The smack of the empty tumbler on the tabletop is overloud in the tiny kitchen.

“Let us put our cards on the proverbial table. If you’ve come here after having partaken for the purposes of an errant fuck,” he says, spitting out the last consonant with emphasis, “you’ll find yourself sorely disappointed.”

Joel winces, feels the words hit like a well-deserved slap. “S’not why I’m here.”

“Ah. Then do you intend to tell me why you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again. Maybe it’s the alcohol slowing his tongue, but he doesn’t think it’s just that.

“I jus’…”

I miss her.

I miss you.

Ezra studies him, something sharp and curious in his gaze. If Joel weren’t so deep in his melancholy he’d be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed, but Ezra doesn’t look put out, only resigned. Concerned.

He’s too damn quiet either way.

Joel blinks, tries to shake off the sadness that’s taken root, tendrils of sorrow twining around his ribs, making his chest tight. He can’t, of course. It never goes away, just loosens its grip enough for him to keep breathing.

“She, uh…she died today,” he whispers. “Sarah. My…my daughter.”

Ezra eases back in his chair, tilts his head. Joel faintly recognizes it as his counseling pose. Open. Waiting. But his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth and the world has gone fuzzy and he thinks he might be crying but his face is numb.

“Never saw her fifteenth birthday. She’d be thirty-six now…if she’d made it. Thirty-fuckin’-six. That’s…shit,” he laughs humorlessly. “Same age I was when she died.”

Ezra is kind enough not to point out that you could throw a stone anywhere in the town of Jackson and chances are good you’d hit someone who lost a loved one on Outbreak Day. Tonight the Bison will be busier than usual, most of its patrons trying to numb the day away in the same fashion. It wasn’t a revelation.

But it always seemed like a pretty big “fuck you” to Joel to be forced to reckon with his birthday on top of all that.

“Gunshot,” he says evenly. “Couldn’t even bury her. Jus’ left her in a field south’a Austin an’ went on our way.”

His words are slow, fat and syrupy in his mouth.

Ezra leans forward, rests his arm on one knee, peering into Joel’s face. His eyes have gone soft, and it’s too much like pity.

“Prob’ly still there,” he whispers.

Time begins to slide sideways. His eyelids feel heavy, his head filled with sand. He’s on his knees and her blood is drying tacky on his shirt and Tommy is screaming at him to get up, get up, we gotta go , but he’s weighted down, his little girl has never felt so heavy in his arms, cold and still as stone. He’s pinned in place like a butterfly under glass, his baby is gone and he might as well be dead, too.

And then Ezra is standing, taking Joel’s hand, leading him upstairs. He slouches in the bedroom doorway, vaguely aware of the sounds of a shower starting as he tries to shake off the vision of her hand lying limp against his arm. There’s a light touch on his waist, asking permission with the lift of an eyebrow before he’s stripped down methodically and pushed gently toward the bathroom with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Forehead pressed to the tile as the water rolls off his back. Blood, so much blood, the water should run red, but it’s clear. The creak of the faucet turning, the warm rush of water gone, a towel being scrubbed over his shoulders. A hand herding him back into the bedroom, pulling back the covers. The bed is soft, softer than he deserves. The harsh scrape of curtains being closed and the room dims.

Joel flops onto his back, feels the bed spin underneath him, watching through slitted eyes as Ezra moves around the room. Focusing on him, him, him so he doesn’t slip back out of time.

There’s the clunk of a glass of water being placed on the nightstand and Joel reaches out blindly, finding Ezra’s fingers with his.

“Stay.”

A sigh. “Sleep.”

“Can’t…can’t do it,” he mumbles. “Can’t do it again.”

“I know, cher .”

“Mmm. Stay,” he tries again, but the hand is gone.

Ezra whispers something about a gentleman, taking advantage, sleep now . The words barely find him through a thick haze of exhaustion.

“Since when’re you a gentleman?” Joel slurs, rolling over so his words are muffled by the pillow.

A low chuckle as fingers card through his towel-damp hair.

“Sleep, songbird.”

He wakes and the light is all wrong. It’s too dark, for one. It’s not his room, for another.

“Shit,” he hisses, mouth dry as sandpaper. He makes it upright, still a little woozy, caught somewhere between inebriation and a hangover, and stumbles into the bathroom to put on his clothes.

Downstairs, the only light comes from Ezra’s office as music plays low on the record player. Ezra gets up from the couch as Joel squints into the lamplight.

“He lives,” Ezra says drily.

Joel swallows hard, fighting the sudden urge to vomit, and leans against the door frame. When he opens his eyes, Ezra is standing in front of him, brow arched.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

“I, uh…m’alright…”

“You crashed spectacularly,” Ezra says. “Do you recall any of it?”

He wracks his brain. “I…had a few ‘fore I came over, an’…think we…we talked…”

“Indeed. Then you sang, you danced, got down on one knee…”

Joel’s heart is suddenly beating too fast. “I–what?”

“I’m pulling your leg, songbird,” Ezra says, lips curling in a smirk. “No, you did nothing untoward, save for interrupting my last session of the day a few minutes early. And drinking half my liquor, I’ll add.”

“S’pose I deserve that,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. Then another thought occurs to him, one that sends a hot flush up the back of his neck. “We didn’t, uh…y’know. Did we?”

A dry huff of laughter. “No, we didn’t.”

“Good…I mean, not…I mean…I, uh, wanted…wanted to…not that I wanted–fuckin’ hell,” he groans, stomach roiling again.

Ezra quirks his lips but doesn’t speak, waiting for Joel to recover.

“Look, I, uh… I know you…were just lookin’ out for Ellie before. I stuck m’foot in it. I’m real sorry for that. I just…it’s just, uh Ellie, she’s, uh…she’s doin’ better, an’…that’s...”

He trails off.

…Ellie…something about Ellie…oh…

“Fuck,” he groans. “What time is it?”

“Not quite ten.”

Dinner. He was supposed to be back for dinner.

“Fuck, I gotta…I gotta go.”

“Well. I suppose I should be glad I could be of use ,” Ezra says, lacking his former levity. “Any port in a storm, is that it?”

“No, no, that’s not…shit,” Joel growls, turning to grab his boots, making for the door. “I didn’t mean to…I promised her I’d…I just gotta go.”

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” Ezra sighs, his disappointment palpable. “Crystal, in fact.”

“M’sorry, Ez, but…I’ll…tomorrow? Can we just–”

“I think we’ve drawn this out quite enough,” he says flatly. “Goodnight, Joel.”

The door slams behind him, leaving him little choice but to go home. Home, where his kid has been waiting for hours while he’s been sleeping off a bender at his…at Ezra’s.

Fucking fuck.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table with her journal. He suspects there are some choice words in that book for him now, but anger would be preferable to the look in her eyes.

If Ezra’s disappointment stings, Ellie’s is a knife to the heart.

“M’sorry…I’m late,” he says, feeling every bit the asshole he knows he is. “We can still eat if you–”

“Ate already. There’s leftovers in the fridge,” she says flatly. “And a cake. Maria helped me make it. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he says roughly.

She bites her lip, chewing it, fighting some internal battle before sighing and asking the question.

“Were you with Ezra?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but she snorts. “Don’t bother. You’re shit at hiding things, y’know.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course she’d known. Hadn’t Ezra told him as much?

A knack for seeing things exactly as they are.

“How long?” he whispers.

“Saw you in the greenhouse once. And that first night…he never took the album back. It’s still in your bedroom. Didn’t mean to snoop, but it’s, like, right there.”

He closes his eyes. The room seems to sway around him, nausea gripping his insides.

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” she shrugs, picking at her nails. “But you never did, so…”

“El–”

“Is it me? ‘Cause I wouldn’t have cared, y’know,” she says, and the waver in her voice nearly brings him to his knees. “I don’t…I don’t know why you don’t…trust me.”

“I do, kiddo, I’m–”

“You said I matter but you can’t even be honest with me about this one stupid thing, and that…that makes me think…”

She’s crying, angry tears that she swipes away with her sleeve before they can fall. Should’ve known , he thinks dully, should have known she’d turn this on herself .

“Fuck it, never mind,” she says with a groan.

He steps forward but she’s out of the chair and already moving toward the stairs.

“It’s not…not gonna happen again,” he tries shakily. “We’re…not…anymore.”

This only seems to make it worse. He wishes she would scream at him, yell and stomp and storm around the way she used to, but now she just looks defeated.

“You’re such an asshole,” she sighs with none of her usual fondness. Then she’s gone, soft footsteps on the stairs and a door that doesn’t slam and the quiet is louder than anything.

He climbs the stairs to his bedroom. The album is still sitting on his dresser. She’s right; he never bothered to hide it. He’s a fucking idiot.

He traces his fingers over the cover and feels the tears he’s been holding back all day slipping down his cheeks.

Worst damn day of the year.

Joel wakes up to an empty house and a raging bitch of a hangover, and that sets the tone for the rest of the week.

He barely sees Ellie after that. When she’s not at school or work or training, she locks herself in her room. She misses her curfew and he lets it slide once, then twice, reasoning she needs the space. But eventually he has to put his foot down. She’s his kid and she can’t avoid him forever.

He hopes.

When she comes home past curfew the next time, he’s waiting up on the porch.

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the spot next to him on the swing.

She rolls her eyes and moves to go in the house instead, wheeling on him when she jiggles the handle and realizes he’s locked the door. He dangles the key in one hand, cocks an eyebrow, one step ahead of her.

“You’re late,” he says.

“Pretty fucking rich coming from you.”

“Alright, that’s…that’s not the same thing, kid. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that, but you can’t keep doin’ this.”

“It would appear I fucking can.”

Christ, the attitude . There’s a familiar headache forming behind his eyes and he’s fast losing control of his temper. It’s been a long fucking week.

“You can be pissed at me all you want, but I’m still responsible for you. Curfew’s eleven.”

“What was it you said? I’m not your daughter and you’re not my dad. So I think I’m done listening to you.”

His jaw tightens as he tries not to show how much that particular remark stings. He stands and glares at her.

“As long as you live under this roof, you will be home before curfew. Is that clear?”

“Fine,” she says. “Then I don’t have to live here.”

And she turns on her heel and stomps back down the porch steps. 

“Ellie! Damnit–”

She flips her middle finger up, waving it over her head like a flag, and doesn’t look back.

He has half a mind to follow her, but he knows if he does, he’ll say some shit he doesn’t mean. And so will she. And they’ll just keep circling around the same awful truth, the one he can’t speak aloud, the one she can’t admit to herself.

Instead, he goes into the house and punches a dent in the kitchen wall.

She’ll come back , he tells himself, pacing the floor and clutching his throbbing fist. She’ll come back, and they’ll patch things up and smooth it over the same way he’ll patch up the drywall tomorrow. They’ll figure it out. They always do.

But then she doesn’t come home.

He’s on Tommy and Maria’s doorstep early the next morning, when his imagination has cycled through all the worst case scenarios and won’t let him wait any longer.

“Y’all seen Ellie? She took off last night. Thought maybe she might’ve stayed here.”

Tommy’s bouncing Izzy on his hip. He shakes his head.

“Nope. Been up most of the night with this one, definitely would've seen her.”

Joel frowns, flexes his aching hand.

“But she can’t have gone far,” Tommy adds quickly. “I’ll radio the folks on the wall, let ‘em know to keep an eye out.”

“Alright…”

“Should we be worried?”

Joel bites his lip, shakes his head. “Nah. Just, uh, let me know if you hear anythin’. I’ll go ask around.”

Tommy nods. “‘Course. We’ll keep you posted.”

He waits by the school until half past eight, but she doesn’t show. Every minute she’s unaccounted for ratchets his anxiety up another notch until he’s grinding his teeth and pacing a trail between the stables, the house, and the main street in hopes of catching her.

Tommy flags him down on his way back to the house, his third such trip in the last hour.

“Hey, just got word on the radio. She’s fine. Ezra’s got her. Says she showed up last night an’ crashed with Cee.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “That's…somethin’, I guess.”

Tommy gives him a look that’s too close to pity for comfort. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“S’nothin’ serious,” he mutters. “Had a rough day, that’s all.”

Tommy smirks. “If she’s anythin’ like you at sixteen–”

“Jesus, don’t start,” he groans.

“Just sayin’, big brother. You’re in for it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on. An’…thanks, Tommy.”

He waits until his brother is out of sight before heading to Ezra’s.

Ezra doesn’t invite Joel in this time, just steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him.

“Hey. I, uh…heard she’s here.”

“Your young prodigy made her illustrious appearance in the wee hours. Fortunately for her I’m a light sleeper…as you well know,” he adds coolly.

Joel crosses his arms, can’t meet his eyes. “Look, I, uh…I don’t want her puttin’ you or your girl out–”

Ezra ducks his head, softening a little. “It’s no trouble. I got the distinct impression at our last session that the two of you were not exactly…simpatico at the moment.”

“You could say that.”

He lowers his voice. “In fairness, she’s been equally reticent with me as of late. I speculated that she might have felt I betrayed her trust in my conversations with you–”

Joel shakes his head. “She, uh, figured us out. Wasn’t too happy about it. Or…she wasn’t happy about bein’ left in the dark, more like.”

“Ah. Well…I suppose I am just as much to blame, then.”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “It’s on me. I shoulda…should have told her. Got too in my head an’…well, guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He shifts on his feet, rubs at the back of his neck.

“Don’t think she’d be here if she blamed you,” he murmurs. “I dunno. Maybe you can get through to her. Think I’ve done enough.”

“I’ll do my level best. The couch is hers until she’s had enough of me. Perhaps a few days of my loquacious ramblings will set her to rights,” he adds drily. “If she’s anything like Cee, she’ll be begging for peace and mercy at your door.”

“Doubt that,” he says thickly. “I guess I’ll…I’ll bring by some of her stuff. Clothes an’ whatnot.”

Ezra nods.

“Tell her…tell her I love her,” he says. “An’ I’m sorry. I, uh…yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I suspect the apology would be more effective coming from you…but I’ll pass the message along.”

“Thanks, Ez.”

He walks away. It feels too much like giving up, and the ugly bloom of failure unfurls in his gut like a poison.

Joel packs a small duffel bag with enough clean clothes for three days. After a week with zero contact, he can only assume she’s doing laundry, or she snuck back to the house while he was out and grabbed more of her stuff.

By day five, he’s making a regular stop at the Bison after his shifts when it’s clear his usual late-September blues aren’t going away. There’s a two-drink maximum, and Joel gets his daily share before going home, pulling out his flask, and crashing on the couch. Sleeping pills are hard to come by but booze will do in a pinch. He’s keenly aware this is partly what got him into trouble in the first place, but in Ellie’s absence, he’s lost his anchor and his reason to care.

Tommy sidelines him at the bar on day seven, sliding onto the stool next to him just as he’s started his first drink.

“So you gonna pull the stick outta your ass and tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Joel rolls his eyes, grunts. “Dunno what you’re gettin’ at.”

“C’mon, Joel. I got eyes. Ellie ain’t talkin’ and you’re shufflin’ around here like a fuckin’ mushroom head,” he says, eyeing the drink in Joel’s hand.

“Your wife put you up to this?”

Tommy snorts. “She’s got her hands full. I’m askin’ as your brother…and your friend. Now talk.”

“She’s mad,” he mutters, taking a long drink. “Not much to tell.”

“The fuck did you do?”

Indignance flares. “What makes you think I did anythin’? She’s sixteen. She’s gonna hate me sometimes.”

“Bullshit. That girl thinks you hung the moon. An’ you wouldn’t be out here drinkin’ yourself stupid if you didn’t feel bad about somethin’.”

It’s an uncomfortable role reversal; Joel in the hot seat, Tommy doing the grilling. He wonders when his little brother grew up.

It’s really fuckin’ annoying.

“Whatever you did, just…fix it, Joel.”

“Not that simple.”

“Yeah, it really is, big brother.”

“Tommy, I–you don’t know,” Joel growls. “You don’t know what happened out there.”

“You’re right about that. Been holdin’ your cards pretty close to the chest. But I know you, and I know when you’re lettin’ your foolish pride get the better of you.”

“If you’re so fuckin’ smart then you go figure it out. ‘Cause I’ve tried, and it ain’t workin’.”

Tommy considers him, taps his fingers on the counter before leaning in. “And Ezra?”

He stiffens. “What about Ezra?”

“Thought maybe you two were…y’know. Seemed pretty close for a while there.”

Joel glares at his brother. “What’d Ellie tell you?”

He whistles. “She didn’t have to tell me nothin’. Like I said, I have eyes. An’ you’re shit at hidin’ things.”

Christ, that’s exactly what she said. That stokes the flames of Joel’s ire even further. He's as transparent as the amber liquid he’s drinking.

“Hey, I ain’t judgin’–”

“Good.”

“An’ it’s none of my business–”

“Sure as shit it ain’t.”

“But as your brother…I only wanna see you happy. An’ the only person capable of makin’ you this miserable is you. So quit fuckin’ around and make it right.”

“Did you come here to drink or just to get on my ass?”

“Naw, I gotta go. I owe Maria a week’s worth of diaper duty for the whole Ezra thing,” he winks, hopping off the stool. “‘Sides, I’ve got early patrol tomorrow. Gotta get my beauty rest.”

Joel grunts, considers tossing his drink in his brother’s stupid, smug face, decides it would be a waste of a good sleep aid.

“Fix it, Joel,” Tommy says, clapping him on the back as he takes his leave. “S’what you do best.”

Eight days.

It’s been eight days since Ellie left him. He hasn’t been apart from her for this long in their entire history together, and it’s breaking something inside him, cracking his heart in places he didn’t know could crack. Somehow it’s worse than Sarah, because Sarah has been dead and gone for years, while he is painfully aware of Ellie’s proximity. Alive, but impossible to reach.

It’s late. He’s sprawled on the couch trying to drink himself to sleep when there’s a knock.

Hope, sudden and fleeting. Maybe she’s come home . It’s foolish to think she’d knock at her own door, but he’s just lucid enough for it to hurt when he sees Maria on the porch instead.

“Joel,” she says, an unusual tremor in her voice. His heart leaps into his throat.

“S’it Ellie? What happened?”

“Ellie’s fine, as far as I know. But we have a problem.”

He sags against the door, the emotional whiplash making him surly. “Find someone else.“

“Tommy’s patrol shift got back half an hour ago. They were attacked. They sent Peterson and James home with gunshot wounds.”

“Yeah? Not sure what you want me to do about it, seein’ as I’m not a fuckin’ doctor.”

“They have Tommy, Joel.”

The words don’t make sense.

“The fuck does that mean? Who has Tommy?”

“I need you to tell me what happened out there. With Ellie. They said–”

He draws back, some dim internal alarm beginning to sound. “Where’s Tommy?”

“They took him and they’re asking about a girl, Joel. I need to know what happened with Ellie–”

“S’none of your–”

“It is my damn business,” she snaps. “Patrollers get attacked and taken and then it’s my goddamned business.”

He closes his eyes, feels like he’s in a dream.

“Peterson said they’re holding him hostage, said something about wanting a girl in exchange. Tommy…told me about Ellie’s immunity.”

“He what ?”

“No one else knows,” she says quickly. “But Tommy said something happened with Ellie while you were gone over the winter, something with the Fireflies. And now we’ve got people out there who made a coordinated attack, and they’re looking for a kid, and they…they have my husband.”

It’s here that her voice breaks, her careful mask of competence cracking.

“I need to know what happened out there, Joel,” she continues, composing herself. “If these people have some kind of vendetta, I need to know what we’re up against.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I can’t–”

“You can catch me up on the way to the clinic,” she snaps, offering him no other choice. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the clinic in the cool night air is enough to sober him up. It takes all of five minutes, but Joel doesn’t need that much time to explain.

He left a lot of dead Fireflies in a hospital in Salt Lake City, including one of their leaders.

No, there were no survivors.

No, Ellie doesn’t know.

Maria remains neutral, offering only grunts and nods in response. When they arrive at the clinic, he takes her by the arm and turns her before they go inside.

“Ellie had nothin’ to do with it, y’hear? I don’t want her payin’ for what I did.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m just sayin’…if this is happenin’ because of the shit I pulled—”

“We’re prepared to deal with them.”

“Does ‘deal with them’ mean turnin’ her over to the Fireflies? Because I ain’t about to let that happen,” he growls.

She draws back. “What? She’s my niece , Joel.”

“Yeah, an’ now Tommy’s in trouble ‘cause of me ,” he hisses. “An’ we both know you didn’t want me here.”

“No, I didn’t at first,” she sighs. “But I was wrong. And we don’t know for sure that we’re dealing with Fireflies. For all we know they could be raiders trying to take us for supplies. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Look, I’ll do whatever you want as long as Ellie is safe. She stays in Jackson. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course,” Maria says, then shakes her head in disbelief. “Did you really think I’d turn over a child, Joel?”

“You an’ I both know, times like these, worse shit has gone down.”

“Not on my watch, it doesn’t,” she says. “That’s not how we do things. And you sure as hell better plan on sticking around because if this shit goes south, I’m not raising two girls on my own.”

He swallows hard. “Alright. Tell me…tell me what to do.”

“Peterson just got patched up. I want you to hear what she has to say while it’s still fresh.”

Joan Peterson is sitting on the hospital cot, one arm bandaged with gauze. Joel knows her as a fellow patroller, a short, level-headed woman who knows her way around outside the walls.

“Just a graze,” she says, nodding at the bandage. “James is still in surgery, he got the worst of it.”

“How’d they get Tommy?” Joel asks.

“They fired and missed. Horse got spooked and threw him. They had us surrounded and he was the first one they grabbed. Held him at gunpoint.”

“You think they were Fireflies?”

“I don’t know. They could have been, but…it was getting dark. I couldn’t see much, and it’s not like they carry a flag or anything.”

“You’d know,” Joel mutters. “The Fireflies weren’t great about keepin’ a low profile.”

“They looked pretty ragged,” she offers. “So probably far from home, not locals. None of ‘em looked familiar.”

“How many?” Maria asks.

“At least six that I saw, but there coulda been more hanging back. Like I said, it was getting dark. We didn’t have the manpower and they had Miller, we couldn’t risk it. That’s protocol,” she adds, glancing at Maria for confirmation.

“And they said somethin’ about a kid?”

“Yeah, they said they’d trade Miller for ‘the girl’. Didn’t give us a name or anything. They said we’d know what they meant.”

“Was there anything else?” Maria prompts.

“No. Just…we need to get our people back out there.”

“They’ll have the advantage in the dark,” Maria bites her lip. “The council will put a group together tonight…we’ll ride out at first light.”

“I’ll be there,” Peterson says seriously.

“You’re hurt–”

“Just a scratch. I want to get those sons of bitches,” she scowls. “We won’t let them get away with this.”

“Thanks, Joan,” Maria says more softly.

They leave the exam room and step into the hall.

“Does that sound like Fireflies to you?” she asks, turning to Joel.

“S’not common for ‘em to take hostages, far as I know…but it’s not unheard of. If they’ve been keeping an eye on this place they know they can’t bomb their way in. We’re too well-guarded for that. But if it’s the Fireflies I knew…they ain’t stupid. We don’t wanna underestimate ‘em.”

Maria nods pensively. “They’re convinced we have someone they want, so we have to assume they’re watching. I’ll go to the council about putting extra folks on shift at the dam and the outposts, just in case.”

“If it ain’t the Fireflies…what then?”

“The same. We get Tommy back,” she says, eyes going dark. “And we don’t give them a chance to do worse.”

They agree to meet in a couple hours with the rest of the patrol group to go over the plan. Maria tells him to rest up and he gives her a look.

“I will if you will,” he says.

“Fair enough,” she says. “See you soon, Joel.”

He returns to the house. He almost goes to check on Ellie first, to let her know where he’ll be in the unlikely event she decides to come home, but stops himself. He has to focus on getting Tommy back, and there’s no sense in worrying her.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s laying out his gear on the kitchen table. Joel prepares himself for another conversation with Maria, maybe something she forgot to ask, but then Ezra is standing in front of him.

The expression on Joel’s face must give him away, because Ezra holds up a hand.

“Your young prodigy is copacetic, all things considered,” he says before Joel can ask. “May I come in?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I heard there was an attack.”

Joel swallows hard. “Yeah…I’m headin’ out in a couple hours. They, uh…they got Tommy.”

His eyes widen. “Your brother…”

“Yeah,” he says, then his stomach sinks. “Shit…does Ellie know?”

“No, I specifically–”

“Good,” he cuts in. “Keep in that way. Last thing I need’s her goin’ off on some harebrained mission to get herself killed.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he says softly.

“No,” Joel shoots back, returning to his backpack, tugging at the straps of the bag to loosen them. “Maria’s got the council on it. We’ll take care of it.”

“I suspected you would be called up, as it were. I suggested she might want to join me…reconcile with you before you leave. She was unresponsive to my counsel, so unfortunately…I’ve come alone.”

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing his disappointment with a measure of relief. “Prob’ly for the best.”

“I haven’t darkened your doorstep on behalf of your young prodigy, though,” he hesitates. “I came to warn you…I fear you and your compatriots are walking into an ambush.”

“Yeah? Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he sighs, checking the batteries in his flashlight.

“I told you before about Damon and the group we escaped. And my concern is…I suspect he’s not stopped looking for us. For Cee.”

“You think he wants his kid back?”

Ezra nods. “I do believe that is the case, yes.”

“Why?”

“I…suspect it does not sit right with his massive ego to have been…bested by a cripple and a little girl. He is more than capable of holding a grudge. And though I am loath to think of what might happen to her if she were to be returned to him…he is, within the bounds of the old laws, her rightful caretaker.”

“Well…what does Cee want?”

“She doesn’t have an opinion on the matter because she believes her father to be dead.”

Joel stops, turns back to him, meets his eyes. “An’ why would she think that?”

Ezra doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.

“Christ,” Joel mutters.

“I told her what she needed to hear to…encourage her to leave with me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ez–”

“The mere fact of my deception changes nothing, Joel. Every utterance, every word on the matter stands true. Cee was in grave danger–”

“How do I know you’re not holdin’ that girl hostage or somethin’?” Joel spits through gritted teeth.

Ezra scoffs.

“No, you tell me right now why I shouldn’t go tell Maria and the rest of the council that we’re harborin’ a kidnapper?”

“Because you know me, Joel,” he says softly. “You know I could not fathom harming a hair on that little bird’s golden head, let alone actually committing such a heinous crime. You’ve entrusted me with your own girl’s care and you know in your heart of hearts that I have no desire to do anything untoward. More than that…you know what treachery lies beyond these walls. You’ve known that life, and you know her place of safety was tenuous at best.

“Trust that I would have happily taken Damon’s life myself if granted the opportunity. And I came here to tell you that if you get the chance…I’d suggest you take it.”

Joel considers him, breathes an angry sigh, then turns back to his bag and unceremoniously stuffs the rest of his supplies in, cinching the top buckle tight.

“Could be anyone. Raiders, Fireflies. No way to know ‘til we’re out there,” he bites out. “Seems we both have shit to answer for. Just have to see who’s doin’ the callin’.”

Ezra ducks his head, frowns. “I’ll owe you a great debt if–”

“Don’t,” Joel snaps, then bites his lip, softening. “Look, if anythin’ happens out there…Ellie…she, uh…she’s better with Maria now but she’s not–they’re not–”

Ezra puts his hand on his shoulder, the touch startling him into silence.

“You’ll come home. And we–she–will be here when you do.”

[louloulemons-posts]

The Criminal And The Princess II

Grumpy!College!Eddie X Sunshine!Skater!Reader

Summary : Edens dad is pushing her to breaking point, but when Steve Harrington suggests going to a gig, they stumble upon who she never thought she’d see.

Word Count : 2k

Warnings : not much eddie (i’m sorry), shitty parents, once again talk of eating, girlhood, nancy is sad, swearing, billy hargrove.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Again!”

“Dad I have to go I have class,” I sighed, skating towards him. “Regionals are coming up how are you expecting to win if you’re still so sloppy?” he snapped at me.

“Maybe I don’t want to win! Maybe I don’t even wanna go to fucking regionals!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“Your mother-“ I didn’t give him the chance to finish, “I’m not mom!”

With a deep breath, i spoke calmly, “I know you miss her, god dad I do too, but me skating, won’t bring her back.” The man who I love so dearly didn’t say a word, his dark eyes stern. “Just go Eden.”

“Dad-“

“And don’t worry about dinner on Friday.”

“Dad come on-“

“You need to lose the weight anyways.” I sucked in a breath, but said nothing more as I watched the greying man walk up the stairs and slamming the door to his office.

Rubbing my hand to my face I sat down on the cold plastic bench, taking off my skates and replacing them with my trainers. Throwing my oversized hoodie on, I headed out of the rink and to my car.

“E!” a voice called out.

“Harrington,” I replied, as the brunette jogged over the parking lot to me. “Hey- woah you look like shit!”

“Yeah 4:30 starts will do that to a girl,” I shrugged, throwing my bag in the back.

“Sorry that was rude of me,” he said, but I brushed him off with a smile. “What can I do for you Stevie boy?”

“So my friend has gig after the match on Friday, I was wondering if you wanted to come? Obviously I’ve invited the rest of the gang.”

“Did you really just say gang?”

“Yeah, I regret it, shut up. Do you wanna come?”

“I have training the next-“ my brows furrowed, dad’s words echoing in my head, “You know what, yeah it sounds fun.

“Great, I’m gonna text Robin all the details so, I’ll see you around.”

“See you.”

Well that was something to look forward too.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sat in class the professor droned on and on, Vickie was almost asleep besides me. I felt my phone buzz in pocket, taking it out I saw a message from Robin.

Robs : soooo a little dingus said you’re coming to a certain gig this friday? 👀

E : figured it was time i had some fun

E : lets be honest its a rare occasion

Robs : im actually so excited for this!!!!!

E : yeah me too, and you’re gonna be extra excited when i tell you who else is coming 😚

Putting my phone down on my notebook I nudged Vickie. “Hm,” she said rubbing her eyes, then brushed an auburn curl from her face.

“Sorry did I fall asleep?” I huffed a laugh,

“A little, but that’s not why I’m waking you. Are you free Friday?”

“I think so yeah, what’s up?”

“Wanna come to a gig?”

“Who’s gig?”

“Not sure yet, but me and a few friends are going, Nancy, Steve, oh and you know Robin right?”

“R-robin?” she stuttered.

“Yeah! I could text you the details, it’d be nice to hang out when we’re not studying.”

She nodded, cheeks flushed slightly, “Yeah cool, just text me.” I returned the nod, picking my phone back up.

Robs : who???

Robs : ????

Robs : did you die???

E : lmao no very much alive

Robs : who’s coming???

E : Vickie

Robs : …

E : love youuuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Robs : EDEN I SWEAR TOENDJSKSJSKSJJDJD

With a laugh I put my phone away and attempted to focus on this mind numbing lecture.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Friday rolled around really quickly, people were so ready for the weekend already. Who knew summer break would be missed already.

“I’m still not over the fact your dad said that to you?” Nancy said, whilst taming her curls.

“It’s fine, it’s not like it’s out of the ordinary.”

“Are you sure I can’t kick him in the throat?”

“I really don’t wanna have to bail you out of jail Robs.”

She hummed, “Yeah that’s true, would not look good for my future.”

“Dads are so shit!” Nancy exclaimed out of nowhere. “Nance-“ I began.

“No! I Robins dad walked out, your dad bullies you and my dad acts like I don’t fucking exist. Why do these men have kids and then treat them like trash?”

The girl was flinging her arms around like crazy, huffing angrily. “Nance, but the hairbrush down you’ll hurt yourself,” Robin said. The girl placed it to the floor, kneeling down behind her, I met her gaze in the mirror.

“What happened?” I asked. She looked at me with glassy eyes. “Mom called, yesterday she was going out to that meal, you know the one for her friends birthday?”

Me and Robin both gave her affirming nods, “Well Mike was working a shift at the record store and dad was picking Holly up from school,” she let out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” I said, hugging her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. “He forgot her, was sat at home watching a game. She was there for hours, when Mike came home he found him passed out on the couch.”

“Is Holly okay?” Robin asked, sliding off Nancys bed and down next to us. The brunette nodded, “Yeah, a teacher stayed with her and Mike went to get her. Mom got so mad and then you know what he said?”

I rubbed her shoulder, and Robin squeezed her hand. “He said, ‘Oh Nancy was supposed to get her,’” she choked on a sob, “He didn’t even know I was gone!”

“Oh Nance,” I said, pulling her back to hug me, Robin went to her front, wrapping her arms around us both. “Dads are the worst,” Robs said. “They really are!” I agreed.

“I swear Jonathan, Will and El are the only ones who got a decent one!” Robin laughed. “H-Hoppers a good man,” Nancy sniffled.

“You know what we’re gonna do tonight?” I asked pulling away from the hug, going to face Nancy, I wiped the tears from her face.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re gonna go to that game and cheer on our guy Harrington! And then, we’re gonna go to that gig and drink and dance and celebrate the badass women who raised us!”

“That sounds like the best plan,” Robin smiled, “You up for it Nance?”

“Yeah! Let’s go celebrate our moms.”

“And also get Robin a girlfriend!”

Me and Nancy laughed as Robin fell back, groaning into her hands. “What about you? You got your eye on anyone?” Nancy asked, cleaning up her tear stained face.

“Nah.”

“Oh come on E!”

“Seriously there’s nobody,” I laughed. “Plus I’m happy enough being wingwoman, I mean you and Johnny are getting to 2 years now?”

“Yeah,” the girl couldn’t hide her smile, “Speaking of, he’ll be here soon so, get ready!” She shooed us out of her room with a laugh.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Come on Harrington!” I cheered, jumping up and down. The game was almost over and our guys were down 6 points. Jonathans friend Argyle let out a loud whoop as the puck hit the back of the net.

“Let’s go dingus!” Robin shouted. I looked up from the ice briefly, my eyes meeting my fathers. His face looked like its normal stern self, but he looked sad?

I know I shouldn’t have yelled at him, specially not about mom, but god he shouldn’t have said the things he did either.

Suddenly I felt arms wrapped around me and the siren went, signalling the game was over. “We won!” Robin screamed. I looked at the score board, we were up by 2 points.

With a smile, I put my arms around the girl, giving her a squeeze. Leaning over the side of the seats, Steve walked past, “Go on Harrington!” we all cheered for him, making him smile bashfully.

“I’ll meet you guys after,” he said walking away. “No cheers for me Eden?” a vile voice came. “In your dreams Hargrove.”

“Oh they’re more than cheers in the dreams gorgeous.”

“Gross, “Robin said from behind me.

“You okay Benny?” Jonathan asked. Benny was a nickname he’d decided on when we were in kindergarten, apparently Eden was a weird name, but I thought Johnathan was too old so,” All good Johnny.”

The rink soon cleared out and we decided to wait by our cars for Steve. “Eden,” a deep voice called from behind. Dad was stood at the end of the hallway, Robin held my hand, Nancy appearing on the other side.

“It’s okay, I’ll catch up,” I said, walking towards the man. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I … I just wanted to apolo-“ he was cut off when the team of hollering boys ran by, Steve being one of them.

“Coach Bennett,” the boy smiled, swinging his arm over my shoulder. “Steve, good match,” the man offered him a smile, I hadn’t had one of those in a long time.

“Sorry I interrupted,” Steve spoke.

“It’s okay, what did you want to say dad?”

“Take a break this weekend, no training, but I expect you to do a morning and evening practice on Monday. Yrene is back from maternity leave so she’ll be training you.”

I sighed, but spoke through gritted teeth, “Great, thanks dad.” I turned to Steve, “Let’s go,” almost dragging the boy down the hall.

“We could get lunch on Sunday?” My dad called after me.

“What?”

“Lunch. I know dinner isn’t an option tonight, go have fun. Let me know if you’re free Sunday.” I gave him a nod, before I did drag Steve down the hall.

“That was weird,” he said when we got out into the fresh hair, you could feel that autumn was rolling around fast. “I know, who knew that Ethan Bennett wasn’t always an ass,” I said.

“Everything okay?” Nancy asked as we headed to the car. “Yeah all good, now let’s go!”

“What’s the name of the band your friends in again?” Jonathan asked.

“Corroded Coffin, and I gave you the address right?” Jonathan nodded, consuming, “The hideout right?”

“Yeah that’s the one, E does that friend of yours need a ride?”

I felt Robin go stiff beside me, “Vickie? Nah she’s being dropped off by her brother.”

“Cool, let’s go then!”

“I swear I’m gonna kill you,” Robin muttered. “What was that?” She gave me a sickly sweet smile, linking our arms, “Nothing!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The bar known as The Hideout was packed, I recognised some faces from college, everyone was here to have a good time. Onto your second drink, I smiled as I saw a familiar redhead.

“Vickie!” I called out.

“Hey,” she smiled, making her way through a crowd of people. “Come and meet the guys.” Taking her hand I led her over to my friends.

“Everyone!” I shouted to get their attention, “This is Vickie, we’re in history together.”

She raised a hand, offering a smile to them. “Vickie this is Steve, Nancy, Jonathan,” he cringed when I said his name,” Argyle and you know Robin.”

“Yeah, hi,” she smiled.

“Hey um … can I get you a drink?”

“Uh yeah sure, cool.” Oh my god they were so cute. When the pair walked away me and Nancy squealed.

“Alright folks we have our next act of the evening for you, give it up for Indianas own, Corroded Coffin!” A man shouted into the mic.

The five of us walked into the crowd getting to the front, standing by the stage, I was excited to see Steve’s buddy.

Out walked 3 boys, one sitting behind the drum set and the others picking up guitars. Taking a sip of my drink, I regretted it right away, almost choking when I saw the final member walk out on stage.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“Good evening Indiana!” he shouted. He looked so different, so alive, his curls falling down his back, freely allowed to do so. His dark eyes shining with mischief and joy.

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to rock your world for the next hour or so! Are! You! Ready!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

They meet again 👀

This part was mainly me healing the parental issues in stranger things with friendship lmao.

taglist : @gnrquinn @flawiette @taylorswiftsloverfr @mygirlchaos @marvelcasey05 @ali-r3n @browneyes8288

let me know if you want to be added 🫶🏻

[idontplaytrack]

Can I request an Amber Appleton x reader fic where reader ends up in the hospital somehow? amber rushes to the hospital after she finds out and is super worried/anxious because she’s already lost 2 of the people she loved the most in the world and she can’t lose another. angst with comfort at the end please.

Ain’t no sunshine

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: mentions to a shooting, on the job injury, crying, stress, anxiety, hospitalisation & hospital settings

This day started out like any other. You woke up next to Amber, had a nice breakfast together then you both went your separate ways to go to work. But as with your job, every day was unpredictable. You’d run into all sorts of criminals and crimes, some days were easier without a doubt. But today was not your lucky day. You were in the area of an active shooting with your partner while out investigating and had to be at the location to help. Because of that, you’d missed your lunch and also failed to respond to Amber’s texts. Eventually, once you and your partner were out of the situation, you realised Amber’s also called— though that was many hours later.

You hear a knock on the other side of the hospital room door and you jump, startled. “It’s me, y/l/n.” Your partner walked in with a small teddy bear from the gift shop downstairs and a balloon tied to its arm.

“Banks.” You chuckled at the gift, “Thanks, for that.”

“It’s crap. I just wanted to get you something but choices are limited.” He says, “How’s uh, your butt?”

“It’s fine, but a literal pain in the ass.”

“Hey. I’m thankful you were only shot in the ass and not elsewhere more vital.”

And then, your phone went dead. It’s been a long day. It’s already past 5pm— you were supposed to be leaving work right now and on your way home.

You sigh, “Desk duty is going to be so amazing.” You remarked sarcastically.

“I’d trade you if I could.” Banks scoffs, “But of course, Bowman or anyone else would never let it slide.”

Banks stayed with you until you were cleared to go home. Even then, he said he’d sent you home. “Why have you not talked to Amber yet?”

“Phone died.” You answered, “Also it’s just been a heck of a day, so I can’t really…I mean, it just didn’t cross my mind. I’m still trying to process the fact that we were in a situation like that— I —”

“I’m sure they just called her.”

“What?” Your eyes went wide, “Why couldn’t you have just led with that?”

“I was more concerned about you. Hello? You got shot. Besides, I was going to call her but the nurses out there beat me to it.”

You had pulled the curtain close and changed back into your own clothes. Then, you opened the curtain back up.

“Mom? Oh, shit.” You expected Amber, but it was your Mom you saw first, entering the room right as you looked up.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“I live near where you were.” She squints, “Also, Peralta’s son saw you getting into the ambulance. They called.”

You sigh, staying standing because you clearly felt uncomfortable sitting down.

“Does Amber know yet?”

“I couldn’t call her. My phone died, but given the obvious, it didn’t cross my mind. My mind is still racing, if it’s any worse they would’ve given me a damn sedative.”

“Oh, my God.” A distinct voice was heard right as the door burst open. “You’re okay, thank goodness.” Amber ran up to you and hugged you so tightly. She’d been crying.

“Don’t cry, I’m fine, baby.”

“You got shot.” She sniffed.

“Yeah, did they tell you it was in the butt? It was a nick. I’m all good to go home.” You broke away from the hug and dried her tears.

“You’re obviously shaken up.” Banks chimed in.

“Shut up.” You seethed. “Can we go home?” You looked between Amber and your Mom.

“Did you guys come here together?” Banks asked.

“No.” Your mom answered before Amber could. “I’m driving you two home though, let’s go. I signed the papers on my way in. You have the all clear.”

“Didn’t know Rosa Diaz was your mom.” Banks remarked.

“Why does that matter?” You squinted at him, “Ugh, not today, Banks. I’m tired. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah—” His phone buzzed right as you were about to leave, “Wait. Bowman said you’re not going into work tomorrow.”

“Tsk, fine.” You huffed, leaving in silence with Amber and your mom.

You laid down on the back, head in Amber’s lap as she held onto your hand. She brought your hand to her lips and gave it a kiss, “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” You nodded, more so repeating that to yourself so you could believe it. You couldn’t actually believe it yet, and you hadn’t even processed the fact that you had a weapon pointed right at you, and if you didn’t dodge any quicker, you wouldn’t have been going home. You wouldn’t be here laying next to Amber, you wouldn’t be seeing her or your Mom ever again.

You got a glimpse of your Mom’s worried gaze in the rearview mirror and you just burst into tears. “You’re safe now, corazón.” Your Mom spoke up, Amber just rubbed your back. “They caught him.”

“I know.” You choked on a sob. Much like your mother, you hated showing your emotions. So this freaked them out as much as it did worry them.

Thanks to pain medications, you were pretty comfortable while the wound healed. Though very much unhappy about desk duty until cleared by a mental health professional to get back on the field.

After what happened, Amber wanted you to quit your job. And honestly, you were almost readily agreeing to it. But watching the rest of your squad doing what they do day in and out while you were stuck to your desk indefinitely ignited a newfound sense of eagerness in you after a few weeks. Your job gave you a great sense of purpose. Not so much the paperwork part of it, but being out on the field and protecting the people, keeping the city safer. Amber knew that, but she was just scared of losing you too. You knew your wife’s already lost two people closest to her, and you wished you could promise her it wouldn’t happen again, but it wasn’t even a risk of just the job but where you all resided. Things like this were seen here, and you were fortunate to have never ran into it before until you had. You sure were hoping it wouldn’t happen again, but who knows? Until then, you knew to do your job because it helps. Not to mention that it pays the bills and put food on the table. Where else were you going to work after dedicating a good part of your life working towards this job? One that you were proud of? One that gave you your found family? One that made you feel closer to your Mom.

“I can’t promise you that it won’t ever happen again, I can’t and won’t lie to you. Life is not always going to be easy and good. And I’m hoping things will change with regards to that thing, but—” You shrugged, “We can’t predict what the future will look like.”

“You…are my hero.” Amber’s lips tug into a smile, “Your job is important, and it's hard but you’re so freaking good at it and so passionate about it.”

You chuckled, teary eyed.

“I am so proud of you. Every single day.”

“I’m proud of you, I’m proud of the life we’ve made together. I’m proud of us.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[chrisbitchtree]

Eggs

A tiny little something in honour of Billy's birthday!

800 words - G

***

“Funny how Easter’s on my birthday this year,” Billy said, bypassing a greeting completely as he grabbed a post-run glass of water from the fridge. “Fucking weird how it moves around every year. I can never keep track of it, and now it’s so early, it’s throwing me off. I know we’re going back to Hawkins to Hop and Joyce’s house for Easter lunch on Sunday, but maybe we can do something afterwards, or the next weekend, if we’re not too busy?”

Steve nodded and turned away, trying to hide the grin taking over his face. Sure, they were busy trying to get the record store they were opening off the ground, but it was crazy to Steve that even after a decade together, Billy didn’t know well enough that Steve had already been planning something for his birthday for months.

In fact, given that it was his 29th, his champagne birthday, Steve was planning something extra special, a huge party with all of Billy’s favourite people, Hop and Joyce, all the kids, Robin, and some of their other friends from the city, all of them congregating at Joyce’s for a big turkey dinner in honour of Billy.

“How were you at Easter egg hunts when you were a kid?” Steve asked Billy, trying to steer the topic of conversation away from birthdays.

Billy shrugged. “Can’t really say. Neil told my mom to stop setting them up for me when I was about five. Said I was too old for that shit. Too bad, I love those little eggs. Just never felt the same to eat them after without earning them on a hunt.”

A tiny piece of Steve’s heart broke at the words. He knew it was part of Billy’s healing process to be really matter of fact about Neil’s cruelty, that it wouldn’t help at all for Steve to make a big deal out of it in the moment, to try to comfort him or tell him everything was all right now. So, he did as was requested and just told Billy that that sucked, kissed him on the top of his sweaty head and they moved on with their day.

Or so Billy thought. As soon as Billy was in the shower, safely out of earshot as he blasted metal so loud Steve was sure the neighbours would complain again, he placed a call.

“Hi Steve,” Joyce said, when he informed her of who was calling. “It’s very nice to hear from you, but you don’t typically call the store. Is everything ok?”

“Of course,” Steve replied. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m just hoping that you can do me a favour. Does Melvad’s have any chocolate eggs left?”

“Sure,” she answered, sounding confused. “We have about thirty or so bags left.”

“Great!” Steve smiled. “Can you buy them all? I’ll pay you back as soon as we get there on Sunday.” He went on to explain his plan, a giant easter egg hunt, stretching all over Joyce and Hop’s new farmhouse property. Forget the party, Billy was going to lose his mind over this.

Joyce promised that she’d buy the eggs and enlist the kids to hide them all over the yard. Steve thanked her, then settled in to wait until Sunday.

***

Easter Sunday came, and as Steve had guessed, Billy hadn’t been at all expecting a party, and thanked Steve and Joyce a million times over for getting everyone together for him. They had a great time, feasting on ham and turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing, hot cross buns and three kinds of pie, along with a huge birthday cake for Billy, and they all toasted him with champagne as they sang happy birthday.

Then finally, it came time for Billy to open his presents. Steve could no longer hide his grin as Billy tore into his gift from Steve, two tickets to see Metallica, cradled inside an easter basket. “Uhhhhh, thanks, babe? I think?”

Steve laughed, explaining Billy’s task to him and the crowd gathered around them. “It just seemed fitting that since your birthday is on Easter this year, that we do something extra special. Besides, you’re never too old for an Easter egg hunt, right?”

Billy smiled at him, giving him such a fond look that Steve had to take a moment just to look at him, capturing that moment in his memory forever.

They all spent the afternoon helping Billy on his hunt, laughing and smiling, posing for Jonathan’s camera, as they filled his Easter basket almost three times over.

They ended the day curled up together in bed, surrounded by little balls of tinfoil Easter egg wrapper, groaning as their belly aches started to set in. Even as he reached for the Gravol, Steve knew that this would quickly become a cherished memory.

[compassionatereminders]

So I had a discussion with my dad a couple days ago about how some of my behaviors reflect symptoms of complex PTSD. For context, my dad has been extremely verbally abusive to me basically until COVID when my mom was home all the time and he couldn’t yell at me without her telling him to cut that shit out. He still loses his cool sometimes, either directed at me, my brother, or my mom. My mom had an incredibly traumatic (in many ways but primarily physically) childhood. She does not do this.

I hypothesized that I must have inherited these C-PTSD adjacent behaviors from my mom because I haven’t experienced trauma. I said this in part to gauge whether my dad would recognize that I have been through traumatic things — not even necessarily because of him, some of it is from being severely bullied and ostracized at school because I’m autistic. He agreed with my lie that I hadn’t ever experienced anything traumatic, and then started to complain about my mom being “overprotective” of me as a child. At some point I managed to bring up that I had gone through a lot of stuff in my childhood that’s scarred me for life, and he pretty much went “well yeah but you weren’t physically abused so you haven’t experienced trauma.” Which…no. Not how that works.

I moved on from that but my dad kept saying “this is such a productive conversation why don’t I have these kinds of conversations with you more often.” He at one point said something that made me tell him, “I’m not qualified to talk about this, you need a therapist or someone with a degree in psychology.” This made him go “nooooo why are you making this conversation go sideways why are you making this difficult we were having a PRODUCTIVE conversation why would you ruin it like this :(((( I can’t talk to you about anything”, which is not an uncommon response for him to have but just very annoying.

The worst part, though, and what I primarily wanted to tell you about, was when I confronted him about him, during a fight in January, yelling at my mom that she was just like her abuser. I’d asked my mom if she was okay with him saying that and she told me “oh he says that a lot but when he does he’s always drunk so I don’t let it get to me.” My dad justified his actions by informing me that, quote, “your mom was actually being really mean to me when I said that.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking or being serious and something about that made me so sad I started to cry. He didn’t respond well to that. Previously he’d complained about my mom “freaking out whenever I raise my voice at her,” which, yeah! She was verbally abused as a child! I told my mom about this later and she was like “well he says things like that sometimes, try not to pay attention to them.” I had talked with my mom’s best friend about incidents like this previously and she’d mentioned that my mom has a really high tolerance for emotional abuse and basically any kind of abuse that isn’t physical.

And I just think that’s so sad. I wish my dad would not be…like that. He’s a walking collection of red flags and I want better for my mom. I can’t put my feelings about this shit into words other than “it’s sad.” Because it is sad and I think my dad really has to do some self reflection but I’m not helping with that shit. He has to work through his issues by himself because I am not a licensed therapist. I’m literally a teenager. I shouldn’t have to be dealing with this stuff and it’s frustrating to be around my father most of the time. I think it’s very sad for him too because he’s fucked up his relationship with me specifically so so so bad. Your kid should feel safe around you, but I can’t feel safe around my dad. And that’s just sad.

Anyway sorry I had to tell someone about the “she was actually being really mean to me before I screamed at her and compared her to her abuser” comment because what the fuck. That’s a wild ass thing to say right? Like, there’s no justifying that. The justification made it so much worse imo.

His behavior towards you and your mom is unacceptable and unfair, and I'm sorry you've had to grow up in such an environment. That being said, attempting to have a constructive conversation about abuse and trauma with a long term abuser is rarely particularly productive, and you might get further by avoiding direct confrontations with him when that's possible than by actively trying to confront him with his abuse. At least until you can get out of there ❤️

[eccentrcks]

gone through time ; the prelude

Chapter Title: "The Prelude" Word Count: 4k Synopsis: Nearly tortured to death and just almost at death’s doorstep when she was recuperating. Marlene regained her determination and to continue on living just to ensure that her loved ones are safe, unable to bear if they were to die on her watch. Yet thrown back in time, five decades behind, and found herself in an undesirable situation that leaves Marlene unsure if she’s able to go back home while meeting unlikely allies and enemies in beginning of her new journey. Author's Note: I might cross-post this on Ao3 and Wattpad eventually in the future. I don't know, we'll see. This is a different take than I genuinely anticipated, but my brain had been scrambling for another approach to this series and I followed my gut. Glad I did a lot of improvisations for the first part of the series. Comment to be tagged on, or removed from the taglist if you want! Have a lovely day and night. Taglist: @revnah1406, @welldonekhushi, @alypink, @littlemissclandestine, @walder-138.

“We made it, kid! Just hold on!”

“Tell my mom that… I’m sorry and I never meant what I said.”

“Oh no, no, no! NO! Marlene! MARLENE! NO! Don’t die on me!”

“If you knew it all then? Would you do it again?”

“Where am I?”

“I promise… I didn’t do it.”

“They would’ve been disappointed in you right now.”

“... Just like them to you as well…”

“Hey. You’re a goddamn survivor, kid. Just like your mama. Four times and going. No one with guts like yours could’ve done what you did. Let alone endure the ridiculous shit you’ve been put through. Think about it. You’ve lost and learnt, but it’s all about perseverance in the end.”

“I wish you were my dad...”

“Don’t do it, Marl. You don’t want to end this way.”

…

…

…

The consideration of ending it all had always been in her thoughts ever since losing Anthony. She was just nineteen years old at the time. Her bestest friend, her better half, her soulmate. Her breathing had hitched when she looked down from the window, placed in one of the top floors after getting liberated, with the breezy winds hitting her face.

Until the base had been attacked by an unknown group of operators who definitely knew their shit due to the lack of casualties on their side while she was getting dragged off by Phillip and covered by David with the other Shadows after they jumped out of the floor to the bottom when a grenade was thrown at them.

Lucky or not, she’d survived the impact, sprawled on the floor with the inability to pull herself together. Her breathing was so weak despite having an adrenaline rush. Marlene couldn’t even comprehend her surroundings. The helplessness was there all over again, she couldn’t help herself, or the others, to get out of the danger zone.

It felt like Marlene was slowly dying in the midst of destruction- or so she’d hoped. They didn’t want her to give up so soon, but she held no resistance for the darkness that's consuming her blurred vision. Incoherently mumbling apologies and weakly leaning on Phillip’s shoulder before getting laid down somewhere. Leaving a large amount of blood trails behind them.

They needed to leave her and she desperately pleaded for them to go, which sounded like a wheezy whisper, before she eventually fell into the deep slumber with her heartbeat decreasing by each second. She felt one of them shaking her limp form, shouting her name, and felt their anguished grief. It pained her numbed soul so much, especially when her unmoving face was buried onto someone’s neck while they cradled her in their grasp.

Marlene can’t let anyone else die on her watch. At this moment, she’d die this time for good. Even if it meant without saying properly goodbye to everyone else, although the mere thought of seeing him again to wherever he was brought some little hope to her broken self.

She imagined seeing his stupid, goofy ass dimpled smile. The beautiful light in those vibrant brown eyes that held so much life. The curls at ends of his perfectly brushed short dark hair just bouncing whilst he happily greets her. Nostalgia painfully hits her hard. Remembering she would bury her tearstained face onto his shoulder when they were together, when he was alive, inhaling his soft fragrance, and tightly clinging onto her better half as if he were gonna vanish.

Anthony… I’m coming…

…

…

…

Then her heartbeat was beating once again. Instead of being embraced with death as expected, she was met with the feeling of a long syringe plunging deep into her thigh. Monotonous and disembodied voices were heard with machineries whirring.

Someone mumbled something about her vitals becoming more steady now and got off their knees to walk off after getting called over to assist the others. It sounded like they needed her alive more than dead, otherwise she wouldn’t be slowly waking back up right now.

Her breathing slowly went from shallow to normal, or at least close to what normal as it gets, as Marlene felt like she was laid onto the cold floor, her limbs sprawled, with the ability to move around slowly coming back to her. Regaining and stabilizing her senses too.

Groaning softly and her eyes fluttering open just to see herself in the garage of the overruned base. Largely spacious with crates scattered all over and a group of numerous operators moving around to activate some sort of device. Barely noticing her regaining consciousness and busied with whatever they were doing.

Marlene’s fingers twitched as she struggled to push herself off the floor with a soft grunt. Leaning against a nearby crate after managing to crawl on all fours, without making a single sound, so she can hide behind one of them.

What the hell happened? Why aren't I dead? Why am I still alive? These thoughts ran through her distorted mind as the young woman readjusted her brown jacket over her shaky form and peered over her shoulder to search for a way out.

Unable to understand why and how she is still alive, Marlene knew better than to sit around and wait before something bad happened to her, so her instincts were telling her to evade and think later when it's safe. Just like her mom always says.

Marlene quickly picked at the corner of the crate and yanked some of it, without getting any splinters, although she did chipped a couple nails and didn’t really care about it, to make a handmade weapon. It was the size of her hand, but it was more than alright. Using her nails to make a sharp end and inspected it in her hand after she was done.

Perfect.

Thankfully no one noticed her disappearance and she peeked over to see most of them were still busy. Marlene grunted under her breath when she quietly walked around the shadows while crouching, despite her injuries aching badly, before stopping behind a black bronco.

“Detonation will be ready in five and we have the target subdued,” She hears one of them announce to the radio. “Do you copy? Over.”

The radio cackled in response before another voice was heard. “Copy. We’ll be there in three. We lost visual contact on the other targets, but it doesn't matter, we got the girl. So we’ll be there with the commander. Over.” Someone monotonously answered.

“Copy that. Over.”

Then Marlene noticed one of the operators that was keeping guard, far away from the group, walking towards her area. They wandered closer to her range before pausing in mid-step after hearing a little rustling sound.

Stepping closer to the source of the sound, they cautiously peeked over the hood of the bronco and saw nobody there at all. Straightening up and just stood there for less than a minute before they shrugged it off.

“Huh…” They shook their head, assuming they were just hearing things, or maybe it was a rat, and turned around just to have a wooden weapon shoved right in their jugular and slicing across the throat as they gagged and choked hard before Marlene quietly laid them on the floor so no sound was made.

Breathing heavily as she let them bleed to death before yanking their weapon off them. Heckler & Koch KH94A3. Checking the safety and ammunition. Safety on and magazine full, just what I actually need, thank fuck. She also unstrapped their knife, holstering it at the back of her jeans, before limping off in a crouching position still.

Whatever they injected in me with… I’m not completely immobile compared to before… She considered just leaving before her situation could get any worse, but then they’ll just come after her- or worse, after the ones who she cares about too. I don’t know if they made it out or not…

Marlene decided to take a stand and not yield to these assholes. Hurrying to the other side after hiding and disposing of the body, she mustered whatever strength induced into her, and regained through one's will, they weren’t gonna get away with this. Her morality bar got low a long time ago anyways, she isn’t opposed to taking down whoever is responsible for attacking them.

Mom would do the same thing… She thought grimly before cocking the weapon in her hands.

One of them went to check on her before realizing that she wasn’t laying there unconscious anymore as Marlene rushed up to the unfortunate soul and shoved the end of her weapon below their chin and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot startled the others as blood and clumps of brain splattered on her clothes down to the floor. She couldn’t care less and began creating carnage among them with whatever energy she had left.

Using the crates and unignited vehicles for cover, they didn’t last much due to their weapons and group of numbers, occasionally grabbing onto one of them to use as a meatshield before blowing their head off and dumping them aside, as Marlene didn’t waste a single bullet.

Taking the dead ones discarded guns with the magazines to replace her current empty one. Heckler & Koch MP7A2. Quietly crawling fast underneath an obstacle to sneak up behind another to stab the back of their right calf before using her submachine gun to take them down.

“She’s over there!” One of them shouted to their teammates- which ended with a few bullets through their visor of the helmet, dropping dead as she sprinted, her bad leg making her stumble a little, as Marlene tackled an unsuspecting operator from behind and plunged the knife through the back of their neck. Twisting it roughly before pulling it out. Snatching a flash grenade from the vest and tossing it over with a clicking sound towards a group of seven.

“Goddamnit!” One of them snapped in frustration while removing his helmet, carelessly dropping it aside on the ground, to rub his eyes so he could try to recover from the temporary blindness. “Don’t kill her! We need the target alive!” Squinting and looking around for her whereabouts. She wasn’t nowhere to be seen, much to his displeasure.

Until the sound of an engine being ignited, headlights getting flashed upon them, caught him off guard once most of them were rammed by a bronco. Dropping almost like dominoes and most of them succumbed from the impact.

“... I should’ve known why we were selected for this operation.” The incapacitated operator groaned in discomfort and slowly rolled to his side to try to stand back up on his feet. Just hearing the vehicle’s door opening and slammed shut with the sound of staggering footsteps coming towards him. He looked up at her, seeing the gun barrel aimed at his face, as his target just stared down at him apathetically. No remorse for her actions. He actually has a good amount of respect for that.

Her mother raised a killing machine for sure… He internally commented to himself.

“Before I blow your brains out from your skull. All I wanna know is… Why?” Marlene asked with her hand trembling a bit. Looking down at him, he is a caucasian male seemingly in his late-twenties, short messy dirty blonde hair, grayish blue eyes, and looked like shit from what she just did to him not too long ago.

He remained unresponsive just for a minute before giving her a serious look. “We’re just following orders here, kid. This was just bound to happen sooner or later.” The operator gave a cryptic response instead of a direct one.

This answer barely made her happy at all. This just irritated her and she wanted nothing more than to tear his throat apart with a bullet through his skull. Marlene bit the tip of her tongue in frustration and looked aside to see some sort of heavy looking device, but what caught her attention was that it had a timer on it.

Fifty-nine seconds left.

It looked like it could take the entire building down with that amount of explosives on it. Someone clearly wanted to get rid of any evidence of this attack on this base. Although she was quite unfamiliar with a blue glowy, bioluminescent-looking substance inside some glass tubes tied between wires and whatever you’d need for a bomb.

Shit… Marlene blinked owlishly and turned her head to look down at the man.

As if reading her mind, the nameless man just gave her a blank stare in return. “There’s no point. You won’t be able to disarm it – even if you tried.” He grunted when she kicked him right on the sternum before dropping back down onto his back on the floor when he tried getting up.

“I’d ask who the hell are you, or who are you working for, but I'm not gonna waste anymore of my precious time when you clearly aren’t gonna give me straight answers.” Marlene said coldly and just turned around right after shooting his left thigh and right ankle, he screamed and writhed in pain, as she pushed herself towards the exit. “You can just die here for all I care…” She mumbled under her breath.

I need to make sure they’re still alive… I can’t live with myself if something happens to them… not again… I can’t go through this again...

Just before Marlene can reach for the door handles, it suddenly bursts open, making her stagger backwards slightly, as she is met with an intimidating, masked and heavily armed individual who raises their gloved fist and swiftly pounded it against her face.

Her mouth opened in a silent shriek from the sudden punch as she fell on her backside onto the floor. Ignoring the pain coming from her face. Hastily pushing herself back up with a grunt, looking back up to see her attacker marching towards her, whipping out some sort of electric baton from their thigh holster.

Marlene shouted in pain when they managed to lunge forward to swing the weapon and hit right onto her gut. Almost stumbling on her feet like a newborn fawn, she turned and began running around the garage to avoid the hits while trying to steady her breath at the same time.

“I literally don’t have time for this bullshit!” She can already feel the adrenaline leaving her. This wasn’t good at all. Marlene needed to get the hell out before this place imploded in less than a minute. Unable to think properly while getting chased, she simply found a barrel filled with gasoline ahead of herself, raising her weapon to shoot at it just in time, running past it as being pursued at the same time.

Getting ungracefully flung forward onto the floor, with her attacker flailing to the side, roughly landing against the wall and crates. Their weight crushed them as they laid limp in the pile, meanwhile Marlene sighed in exhaustion against the cold floor, unbothered by the heat against her backside, and pushed herself off the floor to on her knees.

Barely able to fully stabilize herself in a short span of time. Marlene felt her wrist getting toughly tugged by the same operator she’d just incapacitated not too long ago. He yanked her closer and slapped some sort of device, or whatever weird looking watch it was, onto her wrist. She winced when the sharp feeling pierced into her flesh. Recoiling away as the young woman felt like writhing right there when the device triggered something within her.

A gasp slipped from her lips once the device imploded. Flashes of a blinding whitish, bluish hues filled her vision as it felt like gravity became nonexistent.

Then everything became black.

-

It was all bright and everything happened so fast. She could barely comprehend and wondered if she was actually dead this time, or somewhat survived, because this was getting ridiculous for her.

Marlene felt the left side of her face just numbingly cold and wet. It’s snow, she’d know the feeling. Breezy winds hitting the exposed side of her face as she softly groans, slowly pushing herself up, and those brown eyes fluttering open just to see she was in the middle of nowhere.

She felt fine- which shouldn’t be fine. Marlene was painfully aware that she wasn’t born normal like other people, her mom had tended to constantly remind her that since she was young girl, but this hasn’t happened to her once before.

However her head was throbbing real bad with the nauseous feeling hitting her. She couldn’t barely recall the last time she’d felt this whiplashed. Now Marlene could barely recall the entire event that just happened before literally landing here. It’s like recalling bits of scenes of a broken film or something.

And Marlene wasn’t entirely sure if her attire would keep her warm long enough to seek refuge. Her brown jacket wouldn’t be enough against the snow just as her blue hoodie underneath it.

“Whatever, at least I’m not half naked.” She muttered to herself and dragged herself through the thick snow. “I can keep whatever is left of my dignity.” Snorting in disbelief to herself after saying that.

“I need to wait this weather out somewhere warm in the meantime. Something tells me that I’m definitely not in Alaska or Wisconsin.” Marlene sighed, slightly annoyed due to her circumstances, and trudged along into the blizzard. Her boots weren’t suited for winter as well. She can already feel the snow going into them.

The temperature was bringing back some bad foggy memories and she was just glad that nobody was pouring steaming hot water on her at the same time.

~

Marlene shivered and her teeth chattered, wrists twitching against the leather binds, as she was barely able to recover from the bucket of cold water with ice in them getting poured right on her before the bucket of hot water after that.

Dissociation was her friend in this moment as she zoned out while muting out their voices.

Biting onto her tongue and cheek from the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from screaming when the process was repeated. Soon pneumonia would catch up to her if they don’t use the blowtorch on her later.

“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug… bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene kept repeating those words under her hoarse breath and rocked herself at the same time. It helps her pass the time, soon she’ll be back in her claustrophobically small cell, and a few hours of peace will be granted to her before they bring her back out of there again.

~

How long can this go? It felt longer than ten minutes since she’d been walking in this cold hellhole. Huffing and almost wheezing as Marlene pushed her legs forward while rubbing her arms. On the bright side… At least this isn’t the desert where I could've passed out from a deadly heat stroke by now… She tried to be optimistic about this, really, she did.

The device on her wrist wasn’t helping either.

Something sharp that felt like needles was digging deep into her wrist whenever she tried to yank at it, or make an attempt to take it off, but her attempts were futile for now as it remained on her. Chopping her hand off wasn’t an option.

“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene repeated and continued on as pausing in mid step once she heard sounds of a helicopter, or more than one, above her. “Oh, I don’t like that.” She muttered and shook her head before increasing the pace throughout the thick snow.

Something caught her eye from the right above as a figure moved through the trees with such speed. Barely able to react and just kept going faster so she could find some civilization with someplace warm to recuperate for the meantime.

Hearing someone yell from the distance with some gunfire as it lasted for about a minute before it abruptly stopped. Quite unsettling for her, but Marlene had to keep her cool, no pun intended, and decided to check it out by changing her direction.

Snow got lower and easier for her to move around. Hopping once Marlene got onto the solid ground and practically jogged towards the source of noise until she ungracefully slipped on the unnoticed ice beneath her, grunting in pain when she landed on her bad side, and went to get back up before stopping when droplets of blood dropped next her to hand.

“Huh?” Looking up and almost slipping again once Marlene immediately noticed a dangling corpse, what appears to be a soviet uniform, or what's left of the body, hanging from a tree with a black wire wrapped around their mangled neck. Her breathing stopped there for a moment.

“What in the- oh, what the actual fucking hell!” Cursing when realizing the blood was getting on her clothes and hastily got back on her feet. Messily wiping it off her sleeve and regulating her breathing pattern before a panic attack hits her.

Furrowing her eyebrows and inspecting the mess noticing the necessities, which is a pistol with ammunition, a few grenades, and a small medkit onto the body. Marlene thought about this for a minute and due to her condition being on the thread right now, her moral compass was completely gray at this very point.

… This is so wrong, but I’m gonna need those… Sighing to herself and reluctantly grabbed a long branch after looking around for a second and began climbing onto the nearby tree with ease. Then jumping onto the same branch that held onto the hanging body, her body ached, but ignored it, she began hitting the pistol off. It took some hits for the weapon to fall off as it landed on the ground.

Letting go of the branch and landing on her feet, well, onto her knees due to staggering slightly. She reached down for the weapon and checked if it was full, which it was, before looking back up to aim for the wire after turning the safety off.

It dropped once she shot it loose as Marlene looked around cautiously before kneeling down next to the corpse to take what she needed. “I’m sorry…” Mumbling under her breath and standing back up right after just looting a dead body.

Somebody would've done the same if they were in my position…

Grimacing when the blood continued flowing and the red liquid almost surrounded the body in the snow. Then Marlene made a move on and kept a wary eye over her shoulder just after that, knowing she likely wasn’t alone out here. It wasn’t safe for anyone like her to be roaming around in the snowy woods.

Jesus… How long will it take for me to get to a nearby town? Marlene was sure enough that she might have to take camp for the night sooner than later or else a wild animal will have her for dinner.

“It would be un-bear-able for me if I got wolf-ed down… heh…” She chuckled dryly to herself for making such a wildlife joke, it was good in her personal opinion, when nobody else was around to hear it.

“Bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug, bluebird, tree frog, ladybug…” Marlene continued with the mantra and climbed over a log, wincing with everything in her entire body and began to ache again, as she was mentally and physically overwhelmed.

It wasn’t long before she crumbled down onto the ground with a pained sound. One of the most painful headaches pounded at her head as well. The gun slipped from her shivering hands, she could barely move a limp without feeling like she was back in that dark hole again, getting tortured all over, and it only hurt more when she tried moving.

Tears swelled up in those brown eyes as she eventually stopped writhing with her breathing becoming shallow and black dots blocking her blurred vision.

The last thing that she heard was snow crunching nearby with branches moving as a pair of boots stood in front of her limp form.

[beaker1636]

L is for Lap Dance - Ryan

A bit short, a bit awkward but I feel like it was meant to be that way. I wanted a little comedic relief and Ry definitely delivered that for me 🤣🤣. I wouldn't necessarily call this part smut because there is no actual sex in this one but I still had a bit of fun writing it (and if you Ryan lovers feel cheated I can absolutely do a bonus scene for him after this once they get home). Sorry if it feels awkward, I had no fucking clue how to write a lap dance so I winged it a little bit and because of that it is also a shorter part than most of the alphabet game has been so far, but hope ya'll enjoy!

“Wait wait wait, you are saying that your mother found her panties in the kitchen the next morning so that is how you two got busted? Well, guess you lost that round,” Justin tells Vinny with a laugh, all of them meeting up for Coffee the next morning now that Vin and Lottie are done hiding out from everyone.

Lottie has her face hidden in Vinny’s neck, embarrassed from the entire thing and honestly annoyed that Vinny felt the need to tell them. It’s not like she is going to want anything any time soon now that she knows about getting caught anyways… thank god he waited to tell her until after they left, she knew she’d never be able to face his mom again.

“Ugh the worst part is she made a joke about how they beat us to using said table,” Vinny responds, looking completely disgusted at the thought.

“But they didn’t lose,” Ricky says. “They weren’t caught while doing it, they were caught after they did it.  So technically they didn’t lose.”

“Yes they did, I thought we said if they got caught at all then said couple loses,” Mia argues before taking a sip of her drink.

“If that’s the case then no matter how you guys did E you would have lost because I had to know it was happening,” Rick says back, rolling his eyes.

“Does it even matter? Look at how petrified and embarrassed Lottie looks right now, I doubt Vinny is getting any regardless for awhile,” Chris jokes, looking over at the couple.  

Lottie pulls her blushing face away long enough to tell Chris to go fuck himself before hiding her face in the crook of his neck again. 

“Fine, I conceded.  You guys can give them credit for it,” Justin grumbles, still not fully convinced that the couple won but giving up on the fight because it really isn’t worth arguing over.  Especially when he is coming up and if he pisses everyone off they’ll probably give him an awful task, so the fight doesn’t need to happen.

“Wait, so how did you respond back to your mom? Or did you just not answer and try to pretend that it didn’t happen? I want to know the ending to this story,” Ari asks, trying not to laugh at the fact that it happened to her friends.  Because truthfully she’d probably be just as traumatized if it happened to her.

“I just quickly tried shutting her up before anyone woke up, if my father knew oh god he would lose his shit,” Vinny groans, rubbing his face slightly before he glanced down at his drink and took one, trying to hide how annoyed and embarrassed he is.

“Okay, moving on what is Ryan’s letter?  I think we embarrassed the two of them enough for one day,” Chris says, able to tell that Vin and Lottie are about to run so he tries to break the moment, give them a little peace for the time being.

“The only thing I came up with was Lapdance,” Vinny grumbles, still slightly annoyed with his friends.  “I feel like it is boring but I mean it’s all I had.”

“Oh god, can I volunteer that Ryan has to be the one to do it because….”Ari asks, a giggle escaping at the thought of Ryan attempting to do this.  

“Does it really matter who does it, just so long as it is done.  I do think this one we should ask for a little proof of though because I know Ryan and he wouldn’t hesitate to lie about this,” Justin says with a laugh.

“What the fuck did I get myself into agreeing to this fucking game.  No, I am not giving you one.  How would that work, I can’t exactly stimulate anything easily like someone could do to a guy,” he groans.  

“No, I like that idea.  Ryan you better do some research, bud.  And because I don’t trust you I think someone has to be present.  Maybe we let all the girls have a girls night, enjoy some wine and stuff first and then they have the hired male stripper,” Vinny jokes, laughing when his friend looks like he is ready to kill him.

“I fucking hate all of you, I swear to god you can tell the fans why I quit the band when it comes out,” Ryan groans before leaving a couple dollars tip on the table and walking out.  He better start his research if he doesn’t want to make a complete fool out of himself.

“Thanks for hosting us Mia, I have a feeling none of us will be able to drive home tonight other than Ari because I am guessing that Ryan is going to force her home after what he does,” Naomi says with a giggle.

“What gives you that idea? Because we’ve all already had a couple rounds of shots before the wine? Come on we need the full fucking experience,” Mia jokes, laughing.

The night truly has already been fun with all of the girls, Chris has been playing bartender because he wants to make sure none of them overdo it.  He may not drink but he has no problem with them doing it so long as they are home and safe… plus he may want to see this because he is sure he will get a good laugh out of it.  

“I think we need another round of shots mr. bartender,” Mia calls across the house to where her fiance is perched in the kitchen, bottles of liquor surrounding him.  A sight she never thought she would see with her straightedge fiance, but if he is willing to do this she won’t tell him not to either.

Chris rolls his eyes but comes back out with a bottle, pouring another shot in each of the girl's glasses before he makes his way back out of the room.  He may still be there but he is giving them space, knowing that the girls could use this time together without having to worry about anything else at the moment.

“So Carlotta, was the sex at least worth it,” you ask, glancing over at her. “You know where getting busted at least wasn’t that awful.”

You watch as she flushes bright red yet again. “Jesus Ari, you are going to ask this? And yeah, it was pretty good. I mean I got off twice so I wasn’t bad… God I hate talking about these things,” she groans before downing her shot to take her mind off of it.

“Only twice, that is nothing.  Just wait, one day Vin will edge the fuck out of you and get you so much you’re begging him to stop.  And trust me, it is definitely worth it when they do that,” Naomi says with a smirk, all of us looking at her like she’s lost her mind. “What, you’ve never reached that point? Not my fault any of you are missing out.”

“Okay, I am done with this conversation,” Lottie groans. “I do not need to know what any of you have done like that.  I am good, thank you very much.”

“And that is how you make it obvious that you are the baby of the group,” Mia teases. “Don’t worry, we will all corrupt you eventually.  How many shots are we at, should we switch to wine?”

“Nah, one more round and then wine.  Gotta be buzzed to get the full strip club experience before Ryan shows up,” Vanessa says, glancing over at Lottie who is now giggling and clearly feeling the effects. “Except for maybe Lottie, I forgot how much of a light weight she is.”

“I am not giving any of you more shots, I can agree to wine but I think the 4 rounds you have had in the last two hours are plenty.  And I’m limiting you all to one glass of wine,” Chris calls from the kitchen, overhearing them talking about shots. “I don’t need any of the guys banging my door down pissed because you are all hungover and bitchy tomorrow.”

“Fine, bring out the wine dear,” Mia calls with a sigh.

Chris steps out holding some wine glasses and the bottle, starting to pour each of you a glass when the doorbell rings.  He can’t help the cheesy smile that raises on his face when it does, you all may think you aren’t drunk but you are at a minimum buzzed and this is going to be interesting.  He finishes pouring the drinks for all of you before he goes and answers the door for his friend, giving him a warning that all of you are pretty buzzed and ready in the living room.

Ryan steps into the living room trying not to blush too hard, reminding himself that this will be over in a couple minutes and then everyone in the room will hopefully not remember it because they have been drinking all night.

“So I heard we are having a celebration for someone tonight, why don’t you come take a seat on the chair for me,” he says, looking right at you where you sit on the couch.  All your friends encourage you to go for it, egging you on with cheers and laughter. “Chris you can start my music.”

A few seconds after you take your seat in the chair the music starts up and Ryan glances at you, standing right in front of you before spreading your legs to the music as his button up comes off, getting tossed across the room while the girls continue to cheer, egging both of you on. 

His hands wind up on your shoulders as he rolls up your body to bring himself eye level with you, making eye contact for a second before turning around to reverse straddle your lap, a couple hip thrusts down into your lap before reversing and doing the same facing you.  Your hands resting on his thighs as you hold him in place, lost in the moment as he continues to move against you until he backs up from you, slipping his undershirt off before grabbing your hands and guiding them to run down his chest and stomach.

He turns around again to straddle your lap with his back towards you before bending down and giving a couple more body rolls, allowing you to grab his ass before he sits back up, moving your hands to his chest again as he rolls his hips against yours again as the song finishes. 

He turns to catch your eye, both of you now watching each other closely as he pretends being all up on you hasn’t given him a slight hard on and you pretend like you aren’t at least partially turned on yourself even if it was slightly awkward and not completely flowing with the music.

Your friends are all laughing and cheering behind you at the free Ryan strip show that they got while he blushes slightly, not really enjoying the attention he was getting from your slightly hammered friends.

“Sorry ladies, the most you were getting off of me is my shirt,” Ryan jokes before leaning down and whispering in your ear. “I’m not against doing this again, but it will be when we are without an audience next time.”

“I don’t think anyone complained you didn’t take any more off except for maybe Ari,” Mia says with a smirk, giggling when you turn bright red at her comments.  Proving to everyone what is now currently on your mind.

“Anyone opposed if I take Ari home now?” Ryan asks, only to be met by hoots and laughter from the girls, because they all know what is going to happen once they get home.  The rest of them go back to their drinks as you and Ryan make your escape, more than likely not even getting home before one of you has your hands on the other. 

Chris himself laughs slightly, unknown to his guitarist he may have taken a video of the performance and sent it off to the other men in the band.  Knowing they all were going to want to see this, and that while Ryan may kill him it’ll be worth it from all the laughs that they were going to get out of it.  At least he would have proof he completed his letter right?

[fuck-customers]

💋God I’m so tired of having to witness the literal worst of human nature. I swear retail brings out the ugliest sides of people.

Today I heard a kid running behind me as I was ringing someone up, and so I turned and said “slow down please.” Regular and polite. Well apparently that was a grievous mistake bc I immediately hear yelling and it’s the mom right behind me losing her little pea-sized brain over me “telling her child what to do.” Ok bitch well if you were watching him and making him behave I wouldn’t have to say shit in the first place. This woman was literally fucking yelling at me over HER KID acting up like what in the goddamn hell. I keep trying to tell her “ma’am I’m not trying to be rude I just needed him to stop running, it’s a liability and that’s our store policy.” Ofc she’s not hearing any logic bc she’d rather talk over me and go on and on about how I’m disrespectful for talking to her son and not her. Why does it even matter??? Idk. Finally she just walked away, glaring daggers at me the whole time.

Then like ten mins later her husband comes back, and I do have to give him credit bc he was polite, but he basically walks up and goes “look I wanna unpack all that that just happened.” Like ok Dr Phil the gist of it is that your wife is a bitch but sure let’s “talk about it.” I explain to him that not only is it store policy that I ask people not to run inside, but I also was polite in the way I asked. He agreed. But then he tries to explain “well the way we grew up, people don’t talk to other peoples kids.” Ok that’s nice, but that’s not everyone’s upbringing and again, I wouldn’t have had to say anything if YOU were parenting your child. Also think it’s weird bc these ppl were like 40 talking about “in my day we didn’t tell ppls kids what to do.” Like dude if anything it’s the opposite?? Especially down here in the south. I’m not nearly as old as them but if my momma caught me running around acting a fool in a store like that, not only would I get in trouble but she’d GLADLY let someone else scold me for my behavior. This whole thing of “if you even look at my child wrong I will explode” is def not a “back in the day” type shit, it’s new and it’s coming from all these dumbass fucking entitled parents that have no consideration for others in public bc they’re kids are the best kids and everyone else needs to accommodate to THEM, not fhe other way around. Jfc

And then immediately after that happened someone dropped a glass jar of salsa and didn’t even wait for an employee to come to the mess. They just left the salsa and broken glass on the floor, they ain’t even wait thirty seconds before saying “well not my problem” and walking away. I fucking hate people.

Don't give me any of that "back in my day" BS!

I am 49 fucking years old and one of my core memories is being 6 or 7 and just being bored as hell in church and me and my sister were just being kids trying to amuse ourselves and this crusty old man just gets up from his seat at the other end if the room grabs my arm and drags me over to where he was sitting and sits my scared out of my mind ass down and keeps me next to him for the rest of the service. My mom said nothing at the time but when we got home I got a whooping for "embarrassing" her and told me I better behave next time. And for the next few months every sunday this scary old man would grab my arm and sit me next to him.

So I have no idea what alternate timeline your customer came from but it sure as hell wasn't back in the day.

-Rodney

[theoddcatlady]

The Sun Stopped Coming Up

January 3

The sun’s not coming up. The sun’s not coming up. 

I can’t deal with this, school’s starting Monday, how am I supposed to get to class when it’s so dark you can’t see your hand three inches in front of your face?!

When I got up, I figured it was just because it was winter, ya know? Sun goes down and stays down longer when it’s cold. But I knew something was up by noon. The sun should’ve been up by now, it’s starting to freak me out.  

Neighbors have come by asking for some things they don’t want to run to the store for, ignoring the elephant in the room that there’s no fucking sun. Apparently the darkness gets even worse when you try to get out of the neighborhood. It’s best to just stay here until this all blows over, while pretending it’s not happening at all.  

Dad was sleeping on the couch this morning. I think he and mom got into another fight, they’re not talking and mom’s been crying, even though she does her best to hide it. God, it’s bad enough that the world might be ending, I don’t have time to worry about my parent’s failing marriage.

January 4

The streetlights went out, haven’t come back on. Outside now looks like Satan’s Winter Wonderland, with all the snow and it being so dark. I can see other houses across the street, the lights shining through the window like beacons in the night. The only reason I can make out anything in my yard is from the light shining from my living room window.

Mom and Dad aren’t talking. Jesus Christ, you could cut the tension with a knife. I really wish I could go outside to smoke but I swear Dad had a stroke when he saw me open the back door. I don’t know how he expects me to go to school if I can’t even go out on the back porch to ‘get some air’, but whatever.

For now I’m just cracking the window in my bedroom and doing what I can to waft the smoke out there. I’m sixteen, I can make my own decisions.  

January 7

Okaaaaay. I guess I’m not going to school.  

Sun’s still not up. Weekend’s just been boring as shit with just watching outdoors get darker, if that’s even possible. I even started getting ready before I realized ‘what the hell am I doing’ and went downstairs to ask if I can stay home. My dad gave me his approval and said I can stay home for as long as it stays dark.

First time we really acknowledged how absolutely bizarre that is, and it’s the only acknowledgment.  

I tried turning on the TV, see if there’s anything on the news about this, but all I got was static. Couldn’t even connect to any local channels, it’s all snow. Phone’s dead too, I tried calling Isla and Lydia and got nothing. Not even a busy signal. It worked last night when I talked with Lydia. She lives just a few blocks away and it’s dark there too. Isla lives in the city though, not Bartonville, and apparently sun’s fine there. She said she’d come over today to see if I’m still making up bullshit.  

It’s not bullshit. Sun’s gone and it’s showing no sign of coming back.

January 8

It’s not just the sun disappearing. Lights are going out.

It started with the kitchen. I went down and tried flicking the light, got nothing. I yelled for dad and said the kitchen bulb burned out and he went pale. He switched it and I heard him swear for the first time in my life when it still didn’t work. I tried to tell him to check the breaker but he was clearly losing his shit. By the time Mom came in he was babbling nonsense about the lights being taken away and Mom had to help him lie down.  

I wonder if this has anything to do with why he was at work late for the last few weeks. I don’t know what he works on, but I’m starting to go a little stir crazy and it’s making me paranoid.

Isla never showed up yesterday. Stayed up until midnight and she never showed. Maybe she just got turned around or maybe she forgot, she’s like that.  

I bet she just forgot.

January 9

Half the house is stuck in the dark now, including my bedroom, but that’s not the worst of it. 

Watching the street is the only form of entertainment I have other than reading, and I’m getting too antsy to focus on that. I cracked the window while I street watched and then I heard it.

For the last few days, all I’ve heard while I’ve cracked the window is wind. Today I heard whispers.  

Yes, I thought maybe I’d finally cracked and was hearing things but I pressed my head against the screen to listen better.  

It was then I heard the clack of something like claws climbing up the side of the house. I yanked my head back just in time to see those claws land on the sill. I was frozen when that… that THING hauled itself up to my eye level.  

It was probably my height, maybe a bit bigger, pure black with tufts of hair or fur coming from the top of its head and its shoulders. It didn’t have any facial features other than these large pointed ears and bright red eyes, eyes bigger than my balled up fist. It blinked a few times, like he was just as surprised to see me as well.  

His claws sliced through the screen as I stared at it. I had to be going crazy, right? Its enormous hand groped around my desk before landing on my last pack of cigarettes. It yanked them back, waved them in my face, and then it dropped out of sight with a chittering madman’s sound.

I screamed as loud as I could before slamming the window down. My dad came in and when I told him what I saw, he began to cry. Just crumpled into a ball on the floor and began sobbing.  

I had to tuck him into bed. I asked mom what was wrong with him, but she couldn’t answer me. All she knew for sure was that he came back late January 2, looking paranoid as all fuck and smelling like someone else’s perfume.

I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that my dad apparently is having an affair or how calmly my mom said that. Apparently she’d been onto him for months, and it’d been likely going on for years. Years. It was only that night she caught him.  

God, I wish I could just go back in my treehouse and hide for a bit but I can’t imagine leaving this house right now. Not with those things out there that laugh and whisper… even though they don’t have mouths.

January 10

The darkness took a house last night.  

The chittering from those freaks was so loud it woke me up. We crowded in front of the living room window and watched as dozens, maybe even a hundred of those monsters, surrounded the house across the street. Windows were busted in, the door was ripped off the hinges, and they flooded inside.  

The Kinneys started screaming seconds after they got in. They screamed for what felt like ages. And all we could do was stand there and watch.  

Dad bolted around the house after that, extinguishing every candle, turning off any lights we still had that worked. He’s sure they were attracted to the light. I don’t get it but honestly I’m not gonna argue with the guy who’s clearly two steps away from a mental breakdown. The Kinneys did have the most lights on still.

My thighs are going to be covered in bruises with how I keep bumping into everything every few steps. I can only use my flashlight to write in my diary, I have to leave it dark the rest of the time. All I can do is just watch the darkness outside the window.

January 11

Two more houses were ripped to pieces during the night… maybe the night, I can’t tell anymore. I count days by sleeps now. And now there’s not much else to do but sleep.  

I am getting better at seeing in the dark though, although all there is to see isn’t great. The monsters just took the Kinney’s house down, there’s nothing left but a pile of wood. The Lotts’ and Jarvis’ house is also destroyed. In the wreckage I can sometimes see dark shapes moving around them, more monsters, probably. I wish I could fucking see Lydia’s house, but it’s too far away. I hope she’s okay.

It’s clear my dad prepped for being here for a long time though, we have enough canned food to last until the end of the century. Something on that last normal night spooked him. And although he and my mom are clearly going to split the moment they can, he still cares about us. Even if he did betray us.  

I’m too tired to be angry. And too scared. Maybe turning the lights off was the right choice but who fucking knows.

January 12

Rhys Gill.  

That’s the name of dad’s ‘other woman’… or in this case, man. Boy this just couldn’t be easy, could it?

I was in the living room watching the snow when I saw a dark shape dart across the lawn. I almost screamed for my dad when I heard someone run into the door, but then I heard a voice.

“God, please let me in!!”  

I don’t know what made me turn the knob, but the guy nearly flattened me in his panic to get inside. The side of his face is all raked up from something’s claws, and right after I closed the door I heard something else slam against it, followed by an angered scream. That thing was right on his heels and I didn’t even see it.

My dad admitted it all to my mom in the other room when Rhys practically fell in my dad’s arms sobbing about how they weren’t just seeing things. Mom came out after a few minutes alone, dry eyed and holding a first aid kit. She patched up Rhys’ face while Rhys explained what had been happening all over the block. The monsters, or ‘Shadows’ as he called them, are in fact attracted to the light. Dad was right. But they also like heat. Rhys saw a few of them curled up around a burning house like a bunch of dogs in front of a fireplace.  

They didn’t bring the dark though. The ‘Other Thing’ did. Dad and Rhys refuse to explain further but apparently that night they saw something. Something… unknown.  

I’m praying for the sun’s return soon. Dad turned the heat off and we’re all bundling up.  

January 13

I like Rhys.  

That sounds so bad, I know, he’s the guy that’s ruining everything for my parents. But he’s super nice, he’s helping board up the windows so as little light and heat escapes but leaves peepholes for me to keep an eye out. He’s trying to keep the mood up by bringing up his travel stories, apparently he went all over Europe for summer vacation after he graduated. If I’m ever interested, he can recommend the best spots apparently.

I’ll take going anywhere to get out of this damn darkness.

I think even Mom likes Rhys, or at least is playing nice. There’s no room to be a dick while the world’s potentially ending. And dad… he looks happy when he’s with Rhys. Happier than he ever looked with mom.  

Fuck if I keep crying all over my diary I’m gonna make the ink bleed. I can practically see in the dark like a cat now, although Rhys gave me plenty of new batteries for my flashlight, so my handwriting’s actually readable. 

January 14

The monster that stole my cigarettes came back.

I know it was him because he’s made the butts into a creepy necklace. Dickhole, I could use a smoke. He was just peering in through the slats of my window’s barricade, tapping on the glass with his claws and making more weird warbling sounds.  

Rhys showed me his gun, he says if the monster tries busting through he’ll make sure to put it down. I’ve never felt so relieved.  

In the meantime, I’m calling it Nic (short for Nicotine) and I’m sleeping in my parent’s room. Well, mom’s room, dad and Rhys are now occupying a room in the basement.  

I wish they’d just tell us what they saw that night.

January 15

NicgotinNicgotinfuckfuckfuck-

I don’t even know how! I just heard Rhys and Dad scream and came down to the basement to find dad bleeding everywhere and Rhys trying to put a bullet in Nic’s head. He missed twice and ended up pegging it in the arm once. It bolted back long enough for Rhys and I to drag Dad to the main floor and to shut the door.  

Nic is stuck in the basement and he can’t get up here, but I do hear him pacing up and down the stairs. Dad’s… really fucked up. Mom started praying when she was patching up his neck, he looks super pale still and he’s going in and out of consciousness. Rhys is holding onto his hand and he’s bawling his eyes out.  

I think my dad’s dying.

January 16

Dad’s dead.

He passed sometime… well, don’t know really when, clocks have all stopped and haven’t been going for days. It’s like time’s not even real anymore, it’s just an eternal night until we all die.  

I peered out the window to see the front yard’s got a few more bodies in it, all pretty badly shredded, but I would recognize Lydia’s hot pink coat anywhere. I think the rest of the bodies are her family but I can’t tell. Won’t be able to either probably, even if I could get up close to them.  

We’re all going to die. Mom’s just laying in bed and Rhys is counting his bullets in between his sniffles.  

All I need to know is that he has more than three.

January 17

After we stashed Dad’s body in the office, Rhys sat both mom and I down and told us what happened.

They’d met by the old State Hospital, planning on going for a drive in Dad’s car while leaving Rhys’ stashed around there. Dad never once worked late in his life, which for some reason that of all things ticks me off. He always got on my case whenever I skipped a class or two and all this time he was practically gunning it from work to go meet his boyfriend.

At sunset they saw the monsters.  

Two of them, not counting the Shadows that surrounded the one that almost looked human, except he was too tall and too pale and had eyes black as night. The other one was hunched over and some sort of drooling creature with a maw not big enough for all its teeth, but it was clear these two creatures were not friends.  

The King (that’s what Rhys is calling the one with the Shadows) apparently attacked first, but the Beast fought back. It was then the sky began to grow dark, despite the sun still sitting on the horizon. They watched the sky grow black while the creatures continued to fight.  

They got the hell out of there before it became too dark, both going home and telling each other they’d been drugged. That was the only explanation for what unexplainable shit they’d seen. But they both still found themselves preparing, dad picking up all that canned food and Rhys digging that gun out of storage and making sure he had ammo.  

This has nothing to do with us. The King and The Beast just put us in the middle of their shitfest and we’re all going to die because of it.

January 18

Mom’s going to kill herself. Rhys and I aren’t going to stop her.  

There’s not going to be an end to this night. Mom knows this. The sun’s never coming back. Nic is still in the basement, pacing up and down those steps. It’s waiting for its friends to show up so they can kill us all, rip us limb from limb.  

Rhys is going to make a last stand when that happens, but Mom can’t bring herself to wait for the sun anymore. She sat me down and told me how much I mean to her, that she still loves dad even if he really, really hurt her. That she won’t think badly of me if I’m not ready to end it.  

I’m not. But I’m just glad she’s going to take pills and peacefully go to sleep instead of taking Rhys’ offer to use his gun. I’m not sure if I could take it if I heard the gun go off.  

I’m such a coward, I should be joining her right now. But I’m too scared to die.

I’m only sixteen.  

I don’t want to die.

January 19

This will be my last entry.

Nic and the others broke through last night, right through the basement door. Rhys took out a lot of them, but I’m not sure if he’s still alive since I’m not hearing any gunshots anymore. I’m barred up in my room, I keep getting whiffs of my parent’s rotting bodies and it makes me want to puke.

Why why why didn’t I go with mom yesterday I don’t want to die I don’t want to die

I can hear them in the hall. They’re looking for me. They can feel my warmth, even if my fingers feel numb and my teeth can’t stop chattering.

I can hear them whispering my name.  

I’m going to make a break for it out my window. I don’t have a doubt that I’ll freeze to death but I’ll take that over being ripped to pieces.

I hear it’s quite nice, freezing to death. You just sorta go to sleep.

Goodbye.

~*~

I found this in the attic of a home I’m restoring. There was a horrible blizzard a few decades back that destroyed a fuckton of homes, but nothing like this.  Maybe it’s a joke. Maybe it’s some creative writing homework or the beginning of a novel.

All I can say is that last night the sun went down… but it hasn’t come back up yet this morning.

[the-royal-blue-network]

“Thanks again Joey.” Dani said as she grabbed the brown paper bag 

off the countertop and waved to the older gentlemen. 

“Alright Dani, be safe out there!” The older gentleman said, not bothering to look up from the dough he was kneading.

Making their way out of the corner store pizza shop, Dani and her partner, Clark, made their way to the unmarked car just outside. 

“Did your dad say what this big meeting is about?” Clark asked, opening up the passenger’s side door.

Dani shook her head as she stuffed the last of the meatball sub she’d been eating into her mouth. 

Clark chuckled, shaking his head.

“Wow, so lady-like, love it.” He said, earning him a finger.

The partners ducked down into the car and with one turn of the key, the engine was alive. 

“He doesn’t tell me anything.” Dani finally said after swallowing her mouth full of food.

Clark huffed dramatically.

“What’s the point of having dinner with him if he’s not gonna spill the beans?” Clark joked.

“Sometimes mom’s there, and she makes my favorite, meatloaf,” Dani said with a serious face.

Dani and Clark looked at one another for a moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Making their way thru the streets of Queens, they headed to the police station. On the way, they swung by the little street vendor where her father normally got his coffee and picked up his usual. 

“Jesus, how isn’t that man shitting all day?” Clark asked as Dani handed him the massive cup.

“He does most of his shitting in the afternoon. What do you think all the bullshit ‘meetings’ are for?” She said, causing Clark to laugh. 

The duo made it back to the office with five minutes to spare.

…

“Bullshit! If you’ve really got pictures, let me see.” Dani heard her father say.

Stepping into his office, she found him sitting on the corner of his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“Marty this isn’t a fucking crotch shot of some fucking supermodel getting out of a car. This is Vinny fucking LaVine we're talking about.” Jackson said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Dani held up his cup, causing Jackson to smile brightly before holding a hand out. Closing the door, she handed him the cup before rounding his desk and sitting in his seat.

Taking a sip of his piping hot coffee, Jackson hummed contently. He liked his coffee simple. Four sugars and a single drop of creamer. According to Jackson, Big Mikes, the liquor store around the corner from the station was the only place worth going.

Once, as a joke, one of the boys in blue decided to get Jackson Coffee from Starbucks, thinking he wouldn’t notice. Jackson took one sip and chucked the rest of it back at the asshole. After sending him home, he called Dani and requested she get him ‘some real coffee’.

“You know what Marty, I got a city to protect, so do me a favor and stop calling me with this TMZ bullshit.” Jackson said before hanging up his phone.

“Unfucking believable.” Jackson said ripping his AirPods out and dropping them onto the desk.

“Easy now big guy. These were expensive. Why don’t we put them back in the case before you lose them.” Dani said, speaking as though she were talking to a small child.

Jackson dropped his head, his shoulders bouncing a little as he chuckled.

“Fuck you Dani.” He said with a laugh. 

“Can you believe that fucking prick? Claiming he’s got a photo of The Faceless Man.” Jackson said, shaking his head.

Dani laughed. Erin McCain was the definition of insane. The journalist reject had a habit of calling the station and claiming that he had information about high-profile criminals almost once a week. The guys wanted to bring him in and book him for making false police reports but Jackson knew he wasn’t alright in the head. The man had been through a lot; war, the death of his entire family, and then some, so Jackson liked to cut him some slack. But that didn’t mean that Jackson wasn’t pissed when Erin would call him constantly day and night. Jackson tried to encourage him to use the tipline, but nope, Erin preferred to call him direct. How he even got Jackson’s cell was still a mystery, even to the FBI. 

“I don’t know dad, maybe those tips are worth looking into. It would be a shame if some wack job man cracked the big case of The Faceless Man instead of you.” Dani joked.

Jackson shook his head before motioning for her to get up. Trading places, he sat in his seat while she took a seat on his desk.

“How much do you love me Dani?” He asked suddenly.

Dani laughed, he always did this when he needed something.

“I don’t know, it depends on the ask.” She said.

Pulling open the top drawer to his left, Jackson grabbed a manila-colored folder and handed it to her. 

“Can’t you just email this to us?” She asked waving the folder back and forth.

“I mean yeah, but the pre-shift huddle is a tradition. It keeps us together and solid.” He said, causing her to roll her eyes.

Sighing, she slid off his desk, making her way to the door with her father close behind. 

Wanna Read More LGBT Stories? Click HERE and Visit The Royal Blue Network Today!

[witchersmistress]

The Basement part 2

Hello my lovies!! Part 2 of the basement scene, this is part three for rainstorms and hate sex, im know there will be a few unanswered questions.

as per my usual. i do not give permission to copy my work or use my work in anyway without permission. so help me if you do, i will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Trigger Warnings: Clausterphobia, small spaces, foul language, 18+ highly reccomended.

Word count: 6.4K

 Fuck. My phone’s battery is about one percent. Still, it’s better than the alternative. I tense as I step past Baron, sure he’s going to grab me. He lets me pass, but Duke reaches out and pinches my tit. Okay, talking shit is one thing, and his rape jokes are bad enough, but now he laid a hand on me. “Oh, you want to get physical?” I ask, my hands balling into fists. “Yeah,” he says with a sloppy grin. “That’s right, baby. Let me taste that sweet cherry pie.” I swing, and he doesn’t even duck. It’s a beautiful right hook that meets his temple with the aim of a fucking archer. He crumples to the floor in a heap, and I jump back, fists raised and adrenaline pumping through me, ready for Baron to come at me.

“You gonna come get yours?” I ask. He just shakes his head. “I’ve felt your fists. Besides, I’m more into the challenge than taking what I can by brute force.” I didn't trust him for a second, so I went back into the next room. It’s dark in there, since this is the only flashlight. I swallow hard, wiping my hands on my jeans, and feel my way to the dirt tunnel. It’s chilly in the basement, and my clothes are still damp from the rain. At least, I tell myself that’s why I start shivering the second my shins are on the cold dirt floor of the tunnel. I force myself onwards, my heart thudding in my ears. To avoid thinking about the ceiling collapsing, I focus on the tunnel behind me, trying to hear if Baron’s coming in with me. Each scrape of my own knees on the floor makes me tremble. God, it’s so tight. My shoulders are pressed against the walls, and I wonder if maybe this tunnel doesn’t lead out at all. Maybe it leads to… Nothing.

 I’ll be stuck in a dead end in the dark, waiting for Duke to come rape me and probably kill me. Because fuck if I’m just going to lie there and take it without fighting back. I’ve seen way too many movies where people go into a cave or a tunnel looking for escape and instead come upon a pile of skeletons left by all the other idiots who tried to escape before them. The ceiling of the tunnel brushes my back—or was it a bat?—and I think I’m going to be sick. I close my eyes and try to breathe, though it feels like there’s no oxygen in the tunnel. What the fuck am I doing? I’ve just basically buried myself alive. I press my palms to the cold dirt under them and think about the nights I spent locked in the closet at home. The hours I’d be in there, sometimes so long I wet myself before Mom dragged her hungover ass up and remembered where I was.

 Then she’d rage at me and smack me around a little and tell me to clean myself up, that I was a disgusting pig. Or if she had a boyfriend over, she’d howl with laughter at my wet pants because she didn’t want men to see her pissed. A sense of humor is sexy, after all. No one likes an angry woman. I take another ragged breath, forcing it into the constricted airways to my panicked lungs. This is not that bad. And if I could clean up myself and the closet without crying back then, I sure as fuck won’t cry now. I didn’t freak out then, and I won’t freak out now. Once, she locked me in a cabinet because she said I’d lose my claustrophobia if I just faced it. I was curled up in a ball, with my knees to my chest, for hours. I have all the room in the world here. I could lie down flat and crawl on my stomach. I can roll over. I can move. I start forward again. After a time, I hear echoing scuffles high above. I reach up a tentative hand and can’t feel the ceiling. I climb to my knees, then my feet. Relief floods through me in a rush that brings tears to my eyes and a whoop of relief to my throat. Blinking back the wetness, I hold a hand in front of me and one on the wall, and I walk until the wall falls away. I turned on my phone for the last time. No skeletons. No cage with Mabel Darling being held captive like Gretel waiting for the witch to eat her. There are two tunnels off the side of a cavernous room. I continue straight ahead, and at the far side of the room, I find a door, just like Baron said. Heart galloping in my chest, I find the knob and twist. It doesn’t budge.

Fuck. I sink down on the floor, shaking with spent energy, the adrenaline leaving my limbs. My fingers are trembling and stiff with cold, but I try to pick the lock for a while, anyway. When I can’t, I consider sleeping here. At least I’m away from the guys. But it’s so fucking cold, and I’m shivering so hard I can’t possibly relax. My phone dies, and suddenly, the darkness seems close and oppressive and terrifying. Even though I wasn’t using the light, there was comfort in knowing it was an option if I needed it. Now, a drunk obnoxious Duke seems preferable to staying here alone, not knowing if someone will come through the door and who it might be. But going back to the twins means facing the tunnel again. I did it before, though. I can do it again. I know there are no forks until the tunnel opens up, which means I just have to find the tunnel in the dark and hope it’s the right one. It’s not too hard. I just have to go straight ahead. I gather all my courage and creep across the room in the dark. When I find the tunnel, I take a deep breath and barrel in. I don’t think, just charge through as fast as I can. Somehow, it doesn’t seem so bad on the way back. When I finally see a scant light ahead, my heart starts racing with relief. I burst out of the tunnel into the dirt room in the basement of the CIA office. The familiarity itself is a relief, and I can finally breathe easy. Duke is sitting up in a chair, a beer in one hand, his eyes unfocused and his jaw slack. A lump has already formed where I decked him. Baron sits on the stone slab, his phone sitting beside him with the light on.

 “How was it?” he asks, holding up his beer. “Fuck you,” I say. “You knew it was locked.” “Faced your fears, though, didn’t you? One more Midnight Swan challenge down.” “Is that what this is?” I ask. “My initiation?” “Depends,” he says. “It could be.” “Bullshit. August said I could never join.” “August’s not the only Swan,” Baron counters. “He’s your leader.” “He’ll be done with you after tonight, and then he won’t care what happens to you. That’s how it works with him. When he’s done, you don’t exist to him anymore.” “Fine,” I say, planting my hands on my hips. “What do I need to do next?” “You tell me, Stalker Girl.” “Betray a friend for a Swan. See, that one might be hard, since I don’t have friends.” “Gloria’s a friend,” he says. “I’m a friend.”

“Are you, though?” He holds out a beer, the cap still on. “Have a beer. Relax. We’ll be here a while.” “I like to stay sharp.” “Me too,” he says, taking a drink from his beer. “But one beer won’t hurt.” I relent and take it. At least it might warm me up a little, and to be honest, I need to calm down and think this through. Like when they threw me in the dumpster with Colt, I’m attacking a big problem with a tiny knife. If I chill and wait it out, someone will come open the door. If this is some kind of hazing for the Midnight Swans, then I need to see what they want me to do. So, I sat down on the stone slab next to Baron. “What’s the last challenge?” I ask. “The gauntlet.” “For a girl?” he asks. “That means we sex you in.” I force myself to swallow my beer without reaction. “Who does?” “All of us.” I squeeze the cold bottle to keep my hands from shaking. “All the Swans?” “A gangbang, baby,” Duke slurs, holding up his beer. “And this has happened before?” I ask.

“No,” Baron says. “Because no chicks at this office  would do it. But I bet you would.” “You bet wrong.” “Well, technically, the gauntlet only requires the participation of three Swans,” he says. “And you’ve already fucked August. So you're a third of the way there.” “This is your chance,” Duke says. “Three for three.” He leans forward in his chair, then tilts slowly until he topples out, as if in slow motion. It would be comical, but I’m a little worried he’s going to choke on his puke and die in his sleep. “He’s not wrong,” Baron says. Duke rolls onto his back on the floor. “Gonna rest my eyes,” he mumbles. “Then we’ll tag team her.” “My phone died,” I say after a minute, nodding at Baron’s light. “Want to call someone to let us out?” “No can do,” he says, taking a drink. “No service down here.” “Right.” We sip our beers in silence for a few minutes. Then Baron climbs off the rock and sits on the floor beside Duke. “My phone’s going to die if I don’t turn off the light,” he says. “We should all just get some sleep.”

“Why don’t I trust you in the dark?” “Because you’re paranoid and think everyone wants to fuck you.” “Says the guy who was just trying to get in my pants.” “That was me,” Duke says, not opening his eyes. “Come sit by us,” Baron says. “It’ll be warmer. I won’t mess with you.” “Fine,” I say, sliding off the stone and going to sit by them. Despite Duke’s usual drunken asshole behavior, they haven’t done anything. Baron’s right. They are my friends. We’ve been hanging out for a few months now. I sit with them every day at lunch, go to their games, and am part of their circle. It’s not like it was at the beginning of the year, before I was a Walker's  girl. I’m under August’s protection now. They might want him to be done with me, might try to convince me it’s true. But I know different things, and they know it, too. He didn’t lock us down here. Baron did. Baron has the key. He wants August to dump me, but he won’t risk his brother’s rage by touching his plaything before August gives the okay. Baron turns off his light, and we both lie down. He turns toward me, and I tense, but he only lays an arm across me. “So, not into being a Swan if it means you have to work for it?” “Would you let three dudes fuck you to get in?” “Touché.”

For a while, none of us spoke. After a while, Baron sighs. “You know, this is where they kept August when he was kidnapped,” he says drowsily. A chill explodes over my skin, and I lose my breath for a second. “What?” “Not in the main room,” Baron says, petting my hair absently. “Back here, in the dirt like an animal.” “And he still comes down here?” I ask, remembering that weird encounter in the dark, when he brought me down here and started kissing me and said all those creepy things… It’s safe here, in the dark. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Suddenly, I’m dizzy with the realization of how sick this all is—him forcing girls down here to blow him, those things he said that probably some sicko said to him… “Are you kidding?” Duke asks. “Our brother’s not afraid of anything.” 

I can hear the pride in his voice, and it’s sweet how much he thinks of his big brother. But it doesn’t change how fucked up this is. Maybe it was him that locked me in here with his brothers, knowing what they might do to me. “He’s the one who wanted to keep the Swans going after the office  and the police shut them down,” Baron says. “He wanted to come down here when we all thought it was a bad idea. But he wanted to keep the meetings here.” “Why?” I ask, too terrified to even think about it.

“Probably to show how little it affects him,” Baron says. “To show the Darlings they didn’t win.” I’m not convinced. If anything, it shows me how much it still affects him. He can’t let it go, just like he can’t stop going to the bridge, where I’m pretty sure his sister died. Instead of avoiding everything, he revels in the pain of it like a masochist, never letting himself forget. He’s punishing himself, though I can’t begin to imagine what he thinks he did wrong in either instance. “He’s not going to let that shit own him,” Duke says. “He rules his past.” “Can I ask you something?” I say after a minute. “When he was kidnapped… Was he assaulted?” “Yeah,” Baron says. “They beat the fuck out of him. Like, half his teeth are implants. He had a concussion, but he wanted to go right back out on the field.” He sounds so proud, like that makes his brother a hero. My ribs ache at the thought of August needing to prove himself that badly. “Dad had to find a doctor who would sign off for him to play,” Duke says, laughing and then hiccupping. “He was so pissed the first one wouldn’t. I think he got him fired. Then he found a good one.” “Now they golf together,” Baron says with a chuckle. “You never know when you’ll need a medical professional. Helps to have all kinds in your pocket.”

A shiver rolls through me. I wonder how much of that fight was August’s, and how much was Mr. Dolce’s. This is how they took power. Paying off people to do what they want, bulldozing those who wouldn’t. Nothing stands in their way—like a father, like sons. Despite August’s resentment, they’re all on the same side, all in it together. August is eighteen. He doesn’t have to obey his father or even live there. He could stop going to Hockington if he wanted, but something keeps him going back. Is it the same thing that keeps him coming back here, some kind of penance? I clear my throat. “I meant, like, sexually assaulted.” “Dude, that’s fucked up,” Duke slurs. “August’s a man.” “Men get raped, too.” “August would never take it up the ass,” Baron says. “You really are sick, Jailbird” “Yeah,” Duke chimes in. “How could you ask that about a guy who’s fucking you? Does he seem gay to you?” “The ignorance of that statement is honestly astounding.” “Nothing like that happened,” Baron says flatly. “Old Man Darling brought him here, and he was beaten to within an inch of his life, had half his teeth knocked out, his skull fractured, ribs broken, shoulder dislocated… He

was starved and dehydrated and all kinds of shit. But don’t even think about anything perverted like that.” “Because none of that’s perverted,” I mutter. “Where’s my beer?” Duke asks. “Did they catch the guy?” I ask. “Sort of,” Baron says. “That whole investigation was botched from the start, though. The redneck cops around here don’t know how to deal with real problems.” Or maybe the problems weren’t as real as Baron thinks. Dixie told me that their own sister sent some letter saying it was all faked. But August couldn’t have faked that, could he? I mean, I guess he could have let someone beat him up and then say it was the Darlings, but damn. Those are some extreme lengths to go to just to frame someone. But then, August’s nothing if not extreme. And Dixie could be wrong. Maybe there was no letter, and if there was, maybe it wasn’t from Crystal at all but from a Darling trying to get the charges dropped. And here I am, helping them. “You found him here?” I ask, rubbing my arms, trying to get the goosebumps to go away.

“Has anyone seen my beer?” Duke asks, groping at me until I slap his hand away. His voice is slurred and sleepy, though, and I know we’re about to lose him for the night. “No one found him here,” Baron says. “Devlin’s dad put him in their attic to hide him until he died. But they found him before he did.” “Who found him?” “Crystal and Devlin.” I shudder harder. All I’ve ever heard from Colt and Dixie and even August is how great Crystal was—that everyone loved her, wanted her. She taught them so much. She was such a good, selfless person. But I haven’t heard this part. “After his dad tried to kill August, she still chose Devlin over him?” I ask. “Yeah,” Baron says. “August called her on it, too. He’s blunt as fuck. He thinks he did something wrong because of it, but she needed to hear it. And August’s never been afraid to hit those hard truths, y’know? He’ll say what everyone’s thinking, do the hard shit that no one else wants to do. He doesn’t let anything stand in his way. He gets shit done.” I can practically hear Baron and Duke both swelling with pride every time they talk about August. It’s clear they worship him. But that doesn’t mean they always agree with August. This is the first time I’ve heard anyone paint Crystal as anything less than a saint. I want to hear more, but I’m too fucking cold to ignore it. “Any chance someone left a jacket down here?” I ask. “Or a dry change of clothes?” Baron’s hand finds mine in the dark. “Damn, you are cold,” he says, sitting up. He moves around, and a second later, his warm hoodie envelopes me in its cozy fabric and the scent of him, like boys and faint cologne or deodorant. I pull it down over me and huddle into it with such gratitude I might be tempted to fuck him again if he asked. “Come here and put your head on me, and I’ll tell you both a bedtime story,” Baron says. “I’ve got an extra sucker you can eat while you listen. This is a little tale I like to call, The Fall of the Darlings. Don’t worry. It has a happy ending.”

I adjust my position so I’m lying perpendicular to Baron so I can rest my head on his stomach. It’s better than the cold floor. “Are you going to tell me about how August called your sister on choosing the Darlings over him, and she went ahead with it, anyway?” “Fucked up, right?” I can’t help but agree with him. Who would choose anyone over August? But then, that’s not fair. I’m just learning how crazy love makes a person. Who’s to say I wouldn’t sell out my own family for August? “Did his dad go to jail?” I ask, thinking of Mr. D, who wanted to live vicariously through my sex stories. No conjugal visits, apparently. “For a few months,” Baron says, pressing a sucker into my hand. “They charged him with conspiracy or intent or something along those lines. But his lawyer got him off. The legal system here is even more fucked up than New York. But we got justice.” I unwrap the sucker slowly in the dark. “You killed him?” “Nah,” Baron says. “August doesn’t believe in murder. He says death is easy. Life is suffering.” “So, he’s like an angry Buddha?” Baron chuckles. “Sure. If you die, your suffering ends. If you live, you can suffer for a long time.” “And you made him suffer?” “The whole family,” Baron says proudly.

 “While Devlin’s dad was in jail, we made his mom play with us. That lasted a couple months, until she checked herself into Cedar Crest.” Even though people like me could never afford Cedar Crest, of course I’ve heard about the treatment facility. It’s one of the few local claims to fame, since celebrities hole up there for treatment on occasion. It’s basically a resort, or a psych hospital for the rich and famous. “Is she still there?” I ask, suddenly wondering if Mr. D is a man at all. “Nah, when Devlin’s dad got out of jail, he took her out and they moved away. Never even came back to see if they could salvage anything from the fire.”  “That’s the house next door?” I ask. “Devlin’s house?” “Yep,” he says. “Such a tragedy it was lost in a fire.” I roll my eyes in the dark. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.” “Would we do something like that?” he asks, his tone filled with mock innocence. “You don’t know where he went?” “We know,” he says. “But they were gone from Faulkner, so we moved on. You know what was really fun, Harper?

 Seeing their empire crumble as we dismantled it brick by brick.” “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sociopath?” “Aw, now, you like watching people, too, don’t you, Harper? Always nosing around our business, digging into August’s life. Trying to get him wrapped around your little finger. We’re not so different, you and me.” I shrug my shoulders against his side. “Maybe you’re right.” I’m not so sure, though. I don’t glory in people’s downfall. Or maybe I do. Before August meant something to me, I vowed to take them down. Not to take their throne, but just for the joy of watching them fall. Maybe I’m exactly like Baron, I just don’t hate the Walkers anymore. When they were my enemies, I wanted to watch them burn.

After a minute of sucking on our candy in silence, Baron shifts around to get comfortable and then goes on. “The grandfather Darling, John, had seven sons. All started with J. So we went through them all. After Devlin’s dad, Justin, there’s Joseph—Preston’s dad—and Jacob. That’s Colt and Mabel’s dad. Joseph went to prison for murder. That guy was definitely involved in August’s kidnapping. Get this. He’s such a dick that even Preston refused to be a character witness at his trial.” That’s the Darling I suspect is Mr. D. The one I’ve been feeding information to. I’ve thought of him as a friend before, but I know that’s an illusion created by my own lack. He’s not a friend. He’s a guy so evil his own son wouldn’t stand up for him. And I’ve been giving him information about a boy I love. It makes me feel sick and dirty in a way even his creepy sexual interest never has. Baron goes on when I don’t answer. “We fucked with Lindsey a little, but she was too easy, and then Preston threatened Gloria, so we moved on to Colt’s family. We had some fun with them.” I think of the missing finger on Colt’s hand, the burn scars. His dad’s missing finger, and his cane. Mabel is not just blowing out of town but changing her name so they can’t track her down. I swallow hard, wanting to hear the details I’ve been in the dark about for so long, but fuck. The blasé tone in Baron’s voice makes my skin crawl.

“And then there’s Jeremiah and Jedediah. Twins, actually. Jed had some kind of accident and died of blood loss. He had kids, but they’d already grown and moved away. Jeremiah has two kids. His son would have been a sophomore this year, but he disappeared mysteriously right before he would have started at Willow Heights. But he didn’t change his name, and see, I’m pretty good at finding people. We’ll be watching, and if he ever comes back, we’ll be ready. And then their daughter Magnolia will be a freshman next year. That’ll be fun.” “You don’t even know these people, and you’re literally torturing them until they die?” “They tortured August,” he says, as if that explains everything. “Some little twelve-year-old girl tortured August? Or, wait, she’d have been ten at the time?” “She’s a Darling,” he says. “They would have done the same to us. They tried. The difference is, wherever they tried, we succeeded.” “All because one of them dared to love your sister?” “They killed our sister,” he says, his voice hard. “There are two more Darling men, too. They were disowned by the grandfather and changed their names, but we found them. One of them had moved away, but one of them actually lived in the same trailer park where I believe you hail from. John Jr. I hear he was close with your mom a while back, maybe when you were really little?”

I don’t say anything to that. Lots of men have been close with my mom, and it’s not like I want to explain to Baron Dolce that my mom is a trailer park slut. “Never heard of him,” I say after a minute, because it feels like Baron’s expecting something. “Oh, well, I guess he OD’d, so he’s out of the picture, anyway.” “You literally studied Darling family history and found anyone with that name and just destroyed their lives?” “Not just their name,” he says. “Their blood. Blood makes family, not a name. A name is something you can hide behind or run from, but you can’t hide your DNA. Their blood is poison to this town. And poison has to be eliminated.” “That’s… Harsh.” “They started it.” I lie there not even sure what to say. I want to laugh at the ridiculous pettiness of his response. That’s all he has to say? They started it? That’s the excuse of a five-year-old on the playground. I’m pissed off for the Darlings and I barely know one of them. But shit. No wonder people say the Walkers are evil. They’re brutal as fuck, and Baron just sounds like he’s recounting a boring story about our grandparents when he talks. This isn’t something that happened to someone else, though. He and Duke and yes, August, did all this. Drove people to suicide. Had them imprisoned and committed to mental institutions. I shiver at the thought of what they would do if they found out I was reporting to someone about them. They’d fucking kill me is what. So I better get Mr. D what he wants and cut all ties, the sooner the better. “The Darlings started it by kidnapping August?” I ask, pulling the sucker from my mouth. “That, and stealing Crystal, and even before that, they fucked with our dad when he was in office  here. Walkers never forget.” “Can I ask you something?” I say after thinking that over. “Why do you do anything your dad says? August’s 32, and you’re what? 26? You don’t have to do that.” “You wouldn’t understand,” he says. “You come from a fucked up family.” “And yours is so functional.” “Family is everything to the Walkers,” he says. “That’s what Crystal forgot.” “Damn,” I say. “That’s cold.” “It’s a fact,” he says. “People always say that—cold hard truth, cold hard facts. But facts aren’t cold anymore than they’re hot. They’re just facts.”

And that’s the cold part, I think to myself. This guy isn’t just cold, his heart is made of ice. August can make himself that way, but there’s some switch he flips inside to get there. But August feels. He feels a whole fucking lot, probably more than he wants to. Enough that he goes into that dead-eye mode to protect himself. Baron, though… Baron’s ice cold to the core. I remember thinking that about Mr. D, and I wonder yet again if I got it wrong, if it’s not a gross old guy but a hot young guy. “So, she forgot, and she died for it,” I say. “Is that what your dad says to get you to obey him? He threatens to kill you?” “Dad would never threaten us,” Baron says. “He used to use Crystal to get August to do what he wanted, though. But he’s not blunt like August. With Dad, it’s always a subtle suggestion, a gentle reminder of where we stand.” “You admire him,” I say. It’s laced through every word he speaks, in his tone of voice, as clear as his admiration for his brother. That makes him that much scarier. He’s so detached it’s unnatural and a little terrifying. How can that same boy be lying here stroking my hair and pillowing my head, giving me his sweatshirt when I’m cold and telling me I’m his friend? “He’s a self-made millionaire,” Baron says. “What’s not to admire?” The fact that he pimps out his own kids, first off.

I don’t say anything, though. I don’t know if their father does that or if it’s August’s doing. I don’t know if the twins know, or if they do it, too. And I’m not about to spill that kind of information to anyone, not even August’s brother, without knowing. “Duke’s passed out cold,” Baron says after a few minutes. “Guess we’re alone.” “Yeah,” I say, moving to sit up. Baron’s hand tightens in my hair, though, and he sits up, so my head is in his lap. “Stay,” he says. “Maybe now that we have a minute alone together…” “What?” I ask, turning toward him even though I can’t see him in the dark. “You’re going to hit on me?” “No one would know,” he says, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “I’d know,” I say. “You’d know.” “Just a little suck?” he asks, and a second later, he pushes himself against my face. I don’t know when he whipped his dick out, but it’s hard and hot and so shocking that for a second, I don’t move. Then reality kicks in and I scramble away. “What the fuck, Baron.” “You make me so hard,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw you going down on August. And listening to you lick that sucker… I know you feel it, too. You’re attracted to me.”

“Look, Baron,” I say. “Sure, I’ll admit you’re hot. Maybe if I wasn’t into your brother, I’d be into you. But I am, and I’m not.” “Just for a minute,” he says, his voice almost pleading. He takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “I just want to feel your mouth. I won’t even make you swallow.” He pulls my hand down, wrapping my fingers around his hard length. It throbs in my hand, and I gulp at the sensation. “No way.” I yank my hand back, my heart hammering. “You shouldn’t even be asking. The only way that’s happening is if you rape my face like your brother did.” “I’m not going to force you to do anything,” he says. “If I did, you’d tell August, and he’d kick my ass. But if you want to do it, no one will tell him. It’ll be just between us. Our little secret. Like what I told you here tonight. I trusted you. Don’t you trust me?” “It’s a little hard when you’re literally telling me to keep a secret from the guy I—the guy I’m seeing.” He’s quiet for a second, and I think he’s going to ask what I was about to say, if I was going to let slip the L-word. “Just this once?” he asks instead.

“Fuck you, Baron,” I say, getting up and feeling my way through the dark. I don’t know where I’m going, but I want to be further from him and his dick. My pulse is still stuttering, and I don’t like the uncertain feeling in my belly one bit. “I could make it worth your while,” he says. “I could make you a Swan.” “What?” “Just because you didn’t let us take turns with you, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t still count. If you fucked multiple Swans… You’d be sexed in.” “You said three of you.” “I bet I could convince Duke,” he says. “Maybe if you just gave him head, too… It’s not even sex. But we could tell them it was.” “And I’d be a Swan.” “Betray a friend for a Swan…” he says, quoting the challenges I read. “And I faced my fear in the passage?” “Didn’t you?” “So that would be all the challenges. And the gauntlet—blowing you and Duke—would get me in.” “Just like you wanted.” I think about that for a second. I could be on the inside. I’d give Mr. D everything he wanted.

. But I’d lose August, and somewhere along the way, he became more important. “I’ll pass,” I say. “I try not to go around trading sexual favors to get what I want.” “Not even when it’s what you want, too?” he asks, his voice closer than I expected. “Touch me, and you’ll see exactly how much I want it,” I say, dropping the sucker stem on the floor so my fists are ready. “And you’ll be pissing out a hole in the side of your dick for the rest of your life.” “Jesus,” he says. “You’re fucked up, you know that?” “You know what’s more fucked up? You continued to harass me when I said I wasn’t interested. I’m interested in August. That’s it. Not you, not Duke, not any of your other Swans.” “You’ll change your mind when you’re the meat in a twin sandwich,” he says. “But I’ll let you have it your way. For now.” “Gee, thanks for not raping me. Don’t let me forget to give you a gold star on our way out.” “I’d appreciate that.” I stalk over to the side of the room and find a chair. I curl up in it to wait for morning. Even with the hoodie, it’s so fucking cold I’m shivering, though.

“Come on, don’t sleep over there,” Baron says. “I put my dick away. Come over here by us. It’s too cold to sleep alone.” “I’d rather not get raped in my sleep.” “That’s not our style,” he says. “Though, if you have a kink about that, I have a friend who could help you out.” “No, thanks.” “For fuck’s sake, just relax,” he says. “I was just seeing if you wanted it bad enough. Obviously, you don’t. You’re not committed enough to be a Swan.” “And you’re not going to try to molest me in my sleep?” “What fun is that?” he asks. “If you don’t fight back, it’s not worth taking.” “You’re really selling this.” “Come on,” he says. “It’s cold down here, and you stole my hoodie, and I don’t want to snuggle my brother’s blacked-out ass. You’re going to freeze over there by yourself. I promise I won’t fuck with you anymore. I get it. You’re August’s, and until he’s done with you, you’re off limits.” “I’m sleeping with my pocketknife in my hand,” I say. “I’ll cut you if you grope me.” “Deal,” he says. “Now get over here and let us keep you warm.”

I make my way back over and slide down next to Duke. Baron scoots over and wraps an arm around me. I have to admit, it’s nice to feel them on either side of me, keeping me warm like he promised, instead of holding onto my pride and freezing my ass off in a chair. Still, I don’t sleep until I feel him relax, his breathing going deeper as he falls into sleep first. I blink awake when the electricity comes back on, the light on the ceiling flickering a few times before remaining on. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust and see August standing over us. I scramble up, my heart stampeding in my chest. My hands fly up as if to defend myself from the accusation in his eyes. “It’s not—we were just sleeping.” “Did you fuck them?” he asks quietly. “No,” I say, my hands falling to my sides. I remember Duke’s threat from last night. No matter what happened, there’s not a damn thing I can do to convince him if they say otherwise. “Not for lack of trying,” Duke says, stretching his arms over his head. Baron sits and picks up his glasses and my knife from the floor before standing. “Didn’t touch her,” he says. “We tried everything you said to.” I snatch my knife back and turn on August. “What the fuck? Is this some kind of game to you?”

He gives me a cool look. “You wanted to be a Swan. I just wanted to know how bad you wanted it.” “You were testing me? You really think I’d fuck your brothers? That’s not even part of the initiation, is it? You just wanted a reason to dump me.” “Hey, don’t be upset about it,” he says with a lazy smile. “You passed.” “You were never going to let me into the Swans, were you? This is all just a hilarious game to you, seeing what you can make me do.

Even if I passed every challenge, you’d never let me in your little, preppy boys club.” “And you should thank me for that,” he says quietly, his dark eyes going serious. “Fuck you, August,” I say, stomping past him and up the stairs. “Oh, I will,” he says behind me. “The only question is, should I let you cool down first or rage fuck you right now?” “Try it and see what happens,” I snap. It feels good to step into the library and slam the door in his face. I’m tired and sore from sleeping on the floor, not to mention I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday but with the addition of a good amount of dirt. On top of that, I don’t even have my bag. But there’s only fifteen minutes until the morning meeting starts, which means I can’t go home without missing it. No matter what I said to Baron last night, I still fucking hate August half the time.

[milkywaygg]

The Fly-Cosma ALT Story Pt. 2

After tucking and kissing all three of his children goodnights and feeding Cosmo his last bottle, Linnie sat on the edge of his bed and cried endlessly, allowing the tears to fall freely from his cheeks onto the greenish-blue sheets. He also fought hard to keep himself from staring at the photo of their wedding that rested on his nightstand, as even thicker tears escaped his emerald eyes. Taking off his reading glasses so that all he saw was a blur, Linnie continued to cry, unsure of what to do next.

‘How could I do this to my own wife?’ he thought continuously, blaming himself over and over for everything that had happened. ‘Oh, if only had I just left her alone, she’d still be here. But she really needed to be here. To witness Cosmo’s first steps…oh Nora, I’m so sorry.’

Linnie had thought about turning himself in to Jorge at Fairy World Prison. After all, he technically committed fairyslaughter, even if it was unintentional. But the more he thought about it, the more he kept thinking about his children. He had always promised them that he would always be a part of their lives until the day he died. That he would never leave or abandon them like some parents had done. But if he had gone through with turning himself in, then what would happen to the children? They would be so lost and afraid as they got shipped off to an orphanage or foster home, or something, and to Linnie, that’s basically breaking his promise.

He had also considered sending them to stay with their Aunt Daisy, his twin sister, for a little while before he flew to the prison. As much as he knew she loved her nephews and niece however, Linnie also understood that she had no experience with children and had always wanted to live her life childfree. Linnie didn’t feel that was very fair to her, especially after he had Cosmo not too long ago.

At the mention of Cosmo’s name, Linnie’s thoughts then shifted towards himself and the kids. How was he going to tell them? Chelsea and Cosmo were far too young to understand that their mother was gone for good, and he worried what Darren’s reaction towards the accident would be. It wouldn’t be surprising that Darren would try to blame him or Cosmo, especially with him being the best thing Nora had to a doppelganger.

Turning the light out so that he could be alone with his thoughts, Linnie lied down, not even bothering to get under the covers, and continued to occupy only his side of the bed, despite the now plentiful space. Linnie felt his stomach toss and turn as he repeated the events of today in his head and analyzed all the possible consequences. He never thought for one second to blame Cosmo. After all, he was just a little baby and thought that the wand was a magical toy, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that he was so magically gifted. Yet, with stronger magic, Linnie knew that as Cosmo got older, he was going to be mindful of his education and make sure he gets the help he needs, especially to prevent more accidents like this. Linnie couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else, especially any of his children.

Finally, after all his energy had drained out..Linnie finally started to fall asleep, his tear-stained eyes getting heavier and heavier.

  “Chelsea? Darren? Would you both come downstairs for a moment please? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”, Linnie called gently after getting off the phone with Daisy, who urged him to tell them the truth. They were bound to find out eventually after all, and why make it worse by being dishonest. Linnie held Cosmo in his arms gently and sat down on the rocking chair in the living room, while the two older children scurried downstairs, Darren’s hands in the air for some odd reason.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do shit.”, he said, in his high-pitched voice.

“Darren! Watch you language, please!”

“Why? Mom doesn’t watch hers.”

“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Here, why don’t you both sit down. I’ve got something…difficult to tell you.”

“What is it, Daddy?”, Chelsea asked as the two of them sat down, the innocent in her eyes just breaking Linnie’s heart.

“Well um….darling….Mommy um…had a bit of an accident and well…”, Linnie stuttered, slightly tearing up but tried to pull himself together for his kids, “She’s not going to be around much anymore.”

“Why? Where’d she go? Did she finally leave us like she said a million times?”, Darren asked, though to Linnie’s surprise, there was no hint of sadness. In fact, his tone seemed somewhat perky.

“No..sh-she died, dear. I’m so sorry.”

Darren almost let out a woohoo. No more bourbon, no more late-night TV, and no more ‘Darren, get your ass down here right now!’s He could finally be a kid and mess up without the fear of being pounded into next week or having to dodge a shot glass just because he ran in front of the TV while a football game was on. Yet, watching as the other three cried slightly, Darren had to hold off the celebrations until he was alone in his room, simply keeping his mouth shut and hugging his father’s leg.

[avatarskywalker78]

It is WIP Wednesday and I've been working some more on my 'Tory is a Barnes' AU - I'm up to after the fight, and this is when Sarah's just found out what happened.

Broken nose. Broken arm. Several cracked ribs. Fractured shin.

Fucking hell, Sarah had only dropped her sister off at school an hour ago – in fact it wasn’t even an hour yet – and now she’d rushed to the hospital and down a corridor and spoken to a doctor and was heading to Elaine’s room and trying so very hard to push down her panic.

Javed had been the one to phone her, frantic and terrified – there’s been a fight at the school and Elaine got hurt and another kid nearly got killed – and it was only once she managed to get him to calm down she got any details. A fight that turned into a school-wide brawl, Elaine jumping between Samantha LaRusso and Tory Nichols because their cousin had gone after the other girl with a vengeance—

It was the last thing she’d ever expected to hear. Also fucking terrifying that her little sister had been caught up in things because this, this should never have been allowed to escalate like it did. The school should’ve initiated lockdown procedures for one thing…

But it was the Senseis that angered her – Javed, like Elaine and Sarah and Alex, wasn’t one hundred percent in the loop about the karate conflict, but he knew enough to tell her that both dojos had fought like wildcats, and it had been a Miyagi-Do student to kick someone over the railing.

I made sure Elaine didn’t see it, Javed had told her – noble, but worrying because that meant he had, and Elaine would soon know what had happened…

Still, she didn’t need details to know that the Senseis should’ve stopped this before it ever got this far, and Sarah would never forgive them for this; a sentiment that grew stronger when she went into her sister’s room and saw Elaine lying there with a cast on her arm, bandages on her face and, she knew, around her chest, bruises almost everywhere…

Christ. Mom and Dad were gonna lose their shit. Probably already had, because no doubt the school would’ve phoned them straight off.

(Yeah, talking them down from pressing charges is gonna be a group effort)

Also I've been dusting off a story idea I had for Multiamory March but never finished - a Nora (Darhk) x Ray Palmer x Nate Heywood one (Nora and Nate are metamours) - and I'm gonna be uploading it later (after editing) so here's a small snippet.

On the morning of the wedding, he managed to slip away unseen. Still on the ship, according to Gideon, but she wouldn’t say where, and the Legends, for once, took the hint and didn’t try and find him themselves.

Ray feared it was cold feet. Nora didn’t think so, and when Gideon gave up his location an hour later she knew this was a good sign.

Nate, to his credit, looked a little sheepish when she went into the library.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She said. “Compared to the other panics we’ve had on this ship, this is fairly mild.”

I only have one other fic idea and then I'll mark the series complete. I'm not sure I'll do this year's just because I'll be focusing more on the Flufftober Spring Edition.

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @shrinkthisviolet @dream-beyond-the-fantasy

[littlefirefly42]

Love, Maxie

Pairing: Elmax (El x Max)

Summary: When Max's letters stop coming, El realizes she's lost the only person she's ever truly loved

Warnings: Mental Breakdown; Self harm; Su!cide (not graphic); vomiting (not ED related); Hurt no comfort

A/N: I am aware of the irony of finishing a 2000+ word oneshot for myself in less than a week and still not having finished some of y'all's requests. I'm sorry. My only excuse is that I was sad and I needed an outlet. I hope that you enjoy this while you wait I suppose.

~~~

Seven months. That’s how long it had been since Jane Hopper had seen her girlfriend. Trapped in California with not a fraction of a chance that Joyce would let her go back to visit Hawkins, she had been extremely excited when Max had visited the previous June. They had splurged on comics and ice cream, cuddling in El’s bed and reading together. Late at night, they had snuck out the window and onto the roof (with the assistance of El’s powers in Max’s case), and they stared up at the moon and the stars. A strawberry moon, Max had commented once, and El loved her more than she’s ever loved anyone. Now El was sitting alone on the roof, in the same spot, rereading the last letter Max had sent. The date at the top said September 13th, but El had gotten it on November 6th, nearly two months later. 

El,

Hey! I miss you so much! I’m glad you’ve been doing well. How did you do on that summer experience essay? I’m sure it was amazing, the draft you sent me was really good. I’m still not in school, but I’m going back in a few days. I’m not really that nervous, but I miss you so much, and I don’t exactly have a crowd of people lined up to be friends with me. Well, I have Lucas. He’s mostly over the breakup and we’ve hung out a few times this summer, so I think we’re cool now. Mike still hates me though, and Dustin just pretends I don’t exist. Steve makes them all play nice because he’s basically my mom at this point, but to be honest I don’t really hang out with any of them very often anymore. Speaking of moms, I think I might tell mine about us, if it’s okay with you. She didn’t seem too shocked when she saw Steve and Eddie together, so maybe she’d be cool? I’m starting to lose sight in my left eye again, so I’ll have another surgery in a few weeks, but apparently it’s a pretty easy one and I’ll just be in and out. Maybe I’ll tell her right before I go under and see what she says after. Also, I’ve been learning how to do wheelies in my wheelchair, I can’t wait to show you the next time I visit. Write back when you can, and tell Joyce and your brothers I said hi!

Love, Maxie

Maxie. It was the nickname El gave Max after they started dating. Less formal than Maxine, more personal than Max, more affectionate than Mad Max. Seeing it scribbled on the worn paper in her girlfriend’s scrawly, messy, beautiful handwriting made El want to sob. She hadn’t heard from Max since she received this letter. She had written back, some giddy lovesick shit about how excited she was and how much she missed her girlfriend, but there was never a reply. She thought it may have gotten lost in the mail, but three letters and two months later it finally sank in: Max wasn’t writing back. Max wasn’t coming to visit. Max didn’t care.

It was a thought El had been stewing in for the past week and a half, and it was breaking her ribs one by one. Sure, she had missed Max before then. There were nights even before the letters stopped coming that she had felt so incredibly lonely without her fiery, sharp-witted girlfriend that she cried for hours and could still taste the sorrow in the back of her throat the next morning. After November 6th, she felt a twinge of loneliness and disappointment whenever she would sort through the mail and hand Will his letter from Mike. She felt hollow waiting like that. 

But none of it compared to how she felt now, days after she realized that Max wasn’t busy, and her letter had not been lost in the mail. El just wasn’t worth her time anymore.

That hurt. So goddamn much. The setting sun was clouded over, fracturing and distributing the soft light over the horizon, and a few heavy rain drops fell onto the roof. El refolded the letter along its worn, taped creases. She crawled to the edge of the roof and slipped down into her bedroom window, being careful not to land too loudly. She placed the letter along with the others she had from Max.

“Kids! Dinner!” Joyce yelled from downstairs. Good timing too, because El didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts anymore. But as she was opening her door, something stopped her. 

“Coming mom!” Jonathan yelled back. El closed her door and locked it. She didn’t know why, but she felt different. Detached. Her hands shook as she walked back to her desk and picked up the letter.

It made a beautifully violent sound as she tore it. El’s heart pounded, and she grabbed another letter, tearing that one too. Adrenaline seized the girl, grabbing letter after letter and ripping them apart. It was raining harder now, but she didn’t close her window. She couldn���t care less about anything anymore. 

“El, come down here!” She heard Joyce call, but the voice hardly registered. She kept tearing apart letters, and when she finished she went to her book shelf and pulled out all her comic books, throwing them on the floor. Several additions of Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Elektra, and dozens more that Max had introduced her too. El fell to the ground and tore those up too, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. There was a knock at her door, but she was beyond too far gone to hear it. There was nothing outside this room. Nothing but her and the essence of Max in everything.

Max, huddled in the sheets that El threw off her bed.

Max, commenting on the movie and band posters El tore down.

Max, smirking at the flannel that, when El failed to rip with her bare hands, used her powers.

Max, braiding the soft brown hair that El weeded out from its roots.

Max, tracing the veins on the pale wrist that El scratched until it was red and raw, as if she could scrape away the feeling of being loved by someone and then suddenly and inexplicably being abandoned. 

Max, who abandoned her.

Things were breaking themselves now, shelves collapsing and lamps shattering, a reflection of the carnage in El’s mind. Someone was pounding on the door. Someone else was yelling. But El was unreachable, buried beneath layers of anger and betrayal, everything else was muffled and far away.

Thunder growled lowly outside the open window, and El found herself crawling beneath it. The cold water puddled on the floor shocked her nerves and unearthed a sorrow beneath the fury that El had been ignoring for a long time. She held herself, fingernails digging into her biceps, rain showering down on her, and drowned in the agony that was losing the one person you trusted to never leave. She may have screamed, but she didn’t hear herself. When Jonathan broke the door down with a crowbar, she didn’t flinch.

~~~

The next day, El still refused to speak. Still refused to talk about what happened, despite the best efforts of her family. Joyce had insisted she stay home from school, so she sat at the dining room table and stared through her lunch. Who knew pb&j could be so goddamn patronizing.

 She heard the motor of a truck pulling into the driveway, but she didn’t pay it any mind until Joyce shouted something from her office. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from one dimly lit room down the hallway to another, leaning silently on the doorway of Joyce’s office.

Joyce was holding a phone with one hand and scribbling aggressively in a notepad with the other, but she shifted the phone to her shoulder when she saw El.

“Honey, would you get the mail please?” She stage-whispered. “I’m waiting on a package and I think it just got delivered.”

El nodded. When she opened the front door there was nothing on the doormat, so she walked down the driveway to the mailbox. It was a cloudless day, and the blinding sun after the previous night’s storm made the air muggy and humid. There were several letters in the mailbox, as well as a newspaper and a folded yellow paper package. She pulled everything out and brought it back inside, tossing the letters and paper carelessly onto the kitchen counter and taking the package to Joyce. 

“Thanks El.” She said, then added “No bills or anything?”

El responded with a simple shrug and walked away before Joyce could add anything more to the skeleton of a conversation. When she returned to the kitchen she began sifting through the letters for anything important, needing something to occupy herself with, to save her from her thoughts. She found nothing notable, two bills, a check, some ads, and- El paused. A stuffed brown envelope from Hawkins, Indiana. At first she dismissed it, with a twinge of heartache, as another letter for Will; But the return address caught her eye. It was Max’s. Suddenly, the walls of the house felt very claustrophobic. El’s heartbeat quickened and dread rooted itself deep in her chest as she slid to the ground. Slowly, with sweaty, shaking hands, she tore the seal and pulled out the first of three papers. It was written on flowery stationary, a cruel beauty to accent the pure repulsiveness of its content.

Dear Ms. Byers,

I hope you and your family are doing well. I heard that Jonathon got his acceptance letter, send him my congrats. I am writing to share some rather distressing information with you. You must excuse the tardiness of this letter, I have been grieving and could not bring myself to write it. However, I feel that it is my moral duty, and my duty as a mother, to inform you that your daughter, Jane, is a homosexual.

El felt her chest tighten. Joyce had known about her and Max for months and didn’t seem to have an issue with the relationship, but from the tone of the letter it was obvious Ms. Mayfield didn’t feel the same. She took a deep breath, letting the fact sink in, before continuing to read.

I’m ashamed to admit that I have known for quite awhile, and only now have I had the strength to tell you. You may remember my daughter, Maxine, who came to visit you in the summer. Maxine was sick as well, and I recommend you immediately seek therapy for Jane. The two were involved in a romantic relationship, the likes of which drove my daughter to suicide several months ago.

Something stopped inside of El. She reread the last sentence three more times, looked away, blinked, and then read it again. But no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was hallucinating, the word was still there and glaring. Suicide.

I know this kind of thing is hard to hear, and you may want to deny it, but from one mother to another I think the best thing for Jane is to accept it and get her professional help. I have photocopied Max’s suicide note and enclosed it with this letter, so that you may understand the severity of the situation. Please address it immediately, before we lose another child.

My best regards to you,

Susan Mayfield

El finished reading the letter and tossed it aside numbly. She pulled out the second paper, an obituary with a picture of a grinning little kid in a yellow bathing suit, missing most of her teeth, ginger hair tangled and wet. El didn’t even bother reading it. She dropped it onto the letter from Max’s mom and pulled out the last paper. It was a slightly crooked photocopy of a lined piece of paper.

El,

I am so sorry. I know my mother will read this first, but I couldn’t care less. You should know I lied to you in my letters. I don’t speak or eat a lot anymore and I don’t leave my room most days. I miss you so much. I don’t have anyone anymore, and all the time I’m just alone with my shitty mind. After you left Hawkins the first time I thought I would be okay, and I was for a while. At least, I was better than I am now. Then you came back and I didn’t even care that the world was ending because I was with you again. And that day in the hospital, when you told me you loved me, I think it was the best moment of my life. I was so ready to give up El, but being with you saved me. When you went back to Cali I didn’t feel that same emptiness as the first time. I missed you so goddamn much, but with the letters and the visit in the summer I felt like I always had something to look forward to, and that something was always you. Nothing else, no one else. Just you. And then it all went to shit again. The guys stuck around a little after everything went down, but eventually they all kind of stopped talking to me. Steve still drives me places and scolds me for not taking my meds and all that, but we’re not really friends you know? Plus, I used to just get ignored at school, but the wheelchair has been an asshole magnet and it’s getting a little intolerable. Anyway, it doesn’t matter really. The point is I just kept feeling worse all the time. And I love you, and for a while that was enough, but eventually it just hurt more, feeling like a shell of myself until the next time I heard from you. I told my mom about us like I said I would, and she broke down and said I needed help and I couldn’t keep writing to you. She’s trying to get me sent to some clinic now, and I just can’t do it anymore. Without you, I’ve got no one. So I’m sorry, really really sorry, that I couldn’t be strong enough for you, because you sure as hell were for me and now I’m leaving you but if there’s a god he knows I don’t have a choice. I love you El, I hope you live the best goddamn life.

Love, Maxie

El’s hands shook as she placed the photocopy gently on top of the other papers. Her heart kept pounding faster and faster, and it made her chest ache. Everything was too large and too close, and yet there was a strange numbness to the overwhelming feeling, like a fight-or-flight response, a reflex. Her body was acting on its own, and her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. She lifted herself from the ground, heart still pounding, and made her way dizzily up to her room, leaving the two letters and her girlfriend’s obituary on the kitchen floor. El's room was in the same chaotic disarray it was the previous night, and still she looked around and saw nothing but Max. Everything she had destroyed in her blind rage was Max. And Max was dead. And everything was gone. And El fell down to her knees and threw up, then cried on the hardwood floor for a long time.