#i feel like sun would be the pet parent that like lets the fucking iron moth sleep in his bed

[underhanded-lamb]

Moon shows you Sun’s old trainer card. ☀️🌙🌟

the joke is that they are simultaneously bajillions of years old but also shouldn’t technically exist yet but when you’re cooked in a single parent’s kitchen like what are you gunna do

☀ I really liked the collectable trainer card gimmick in Sw/Sh; I loved making cringe/gaudy cards and hoarding all the cards I found it was FUN y’all okay?! Also yes I made Sun a cringe trainer card behold

[p-antomime]

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

[therosevest]

the promise (ch. 1)

a/n: hi yes i wrote for the clown gays like a year ago and im deciding to post this now sjdghfg pls be kind

pair: richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak

word count: 8.5k

warnings: swearing, blood ment, homophobic slurs, abuse mentions, psychological trickery, richie’s parents start out a lil absent but they get better i promise

excerpt:   “You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

“I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.” 

“I know.”

read on ao3

 No, it’s not that Richie is gay. It’s not like he daydreams about taking it up the ass all fucking day.

 Henry Bowers and his dipshit crew might have a different opinion, but they can honestly, truly suck his dick (in the non-homo way - he has taste). The fact that they took joy in throwing him and his friends around, calling them names, and threatening their whole lives never mattered before; the losers took care of each other, and most of the time it was easy to forget about those other assholes.

 Being called four-eyes when he needed glasses in the second grade never got to him that bad - they were saving him from having to see their ugly faces when they knocked them off, so really, he should have thanked them - and he didn’t care when they shoved him around for being short before his growth spurt, and it didn’t even bother him that much when they mocked his totally refined voices. He knew his own talent, and what he could do with it if he could just focus.

 But the first time they singled him out as the fag of the group, well, it stung.

 He never told the others about that day. He never told them how long he cried, how broken he felt sobbing on that park bench. He never worked up the nerve to tell them why he couldn’t face Paul Bunyan anymore, no, he simply breezed past without lifting his eyes, without missing a beat of conversation.

 At least it got easier with time.

 All things considered, his home life isn’t terrible.

 Richie has his own room, a roof, and usually a decently-stocked fridge. Enough to get by.

 He’s left alone a lot. His parents are always at work, and when they’re not, they take on the personalities of monotonous robots sitting in front of the TV, so he spends a lot of time skimming through comics or jacking off when he’s not running around with his friends.

 But, that’s just the thing. Somehow, Richie, life of every conversation, King of Comedy, Trashmouth, funny-man Tozier, was born to the most boring people of all time. They never engage with his jokes; on a good day, he receives a breezy, “That’s nice, sweetie,” from his mom, or, “Okay, that’s enough, son,” from his dad. Blank stares. Pasty, purple-tinted white eyes. Never a hug, never much past a ‘goodnight.’ Not even a simple, “How was school?” when they got home.

 Richie vividly remembers the day that he bounced in his seat at the end-of-the-year ceremony at school, a bustling bundle of nerves prepared to brag and boast to his parents about his awards in science and, surprisingly (his teacher hated him) English - he took to the dramatics of Shakespeare quite well. He practiced his entrance to them several times over in his head, perhaps overly, unconvincingly modest or Shakespeare wants what I have. Anything to get a laugh. A ruffle of his hair from his dad. A forehead kiss from his mom, like when he was little.

 They didn’t show. He still doesn’t know where he went wrong.

 In a stark, bubbling contrast to his parents, there’s this kid in his group of friends. He remembers one of the first times they met, the boy approaching him, all sweet apple-cheeked and neat polo and ironed khaki shorts; Richie had flicked an eyebrow upward, a not-so-subtle really?, because he never figured that clean-freak Eddie Kaspbrak would be able to handle more than three seconds in Trashmouth Tozier’s presence.

 But boy, was he a lot of fun.

 Eddie was loud and super easily wound-up, screaming about fucking UTIs and do not fucking push me man all the piss on the walls of this city could fill the lake and despite his good-boy appearance, he shot back with just as much fire as Richie threw at him.

 And fuck, Richie loves it. He loves the ease with which they bounce back and forth. He loves the fury in the boy’s eyes when Richie pisses him off, the laughter that always comes about between them once they settle. The crossing arms and pouting Eddie, who he theorizes secretly loves it when Richie calls him pet names (not that he’d ever admit it); the loud and greatly-gesticulating Eddie who yells louder and pushes harder when Richie coos at him; the one who quietly accepts Richie’s affection, and offers it back in subtle ways: simply holding Richie’s arm when he slings his arms around Eddie’s neck from behind, allowing him to sit next to him thigh-to-thigh, and overall not completely cringing and pushing him off. He took it as a compliment, though they’d never mention it out loud.

 On an unfortunate night, his comfortable little world comes crashing down.

 His parents are out for some sort of conference weekend trip or whatever, and they’ve called in his deadbeat uncle to ‘watch over the house.’ Not necessarily him (probably because he isn’t home that much), but the house obviously can’t stand up by itself—and, well, maybe they didn’t trust Richie to not accidentally leave the door open, or leave the stove on, or some other stupidly irresponsible little thing. So, the crusty old guy shows up with his greasy, oiled hair and his lack of deodorant and his wilting knees. It makes Richie miss Eddie so, so much when they part, because a.) he smells a lot better, and b.) it would be fucking hilarious for him to see what Richie has to put up with. Like, he’s really not the most rodent-like of his family.

 Anyway, Richie doesn’t remember what he says. Something slightly instigative, about the lack of any gourmet-level food in the house (he claimed calmly while wasting away on microwave tater tots and bread, even though his parents had left behind plenty of money to keep him alive), and then suddenly hands were on him.

 It stings like a bitch.

 His uncle gets up, with a quiet mumble that Richie makes out to be, “Well, let’s see…” and when he finally gets in the kitchen, facing Richie with eyes rung red and shaking fists, he grabs his nephew by a fistful of t-shirt and shoves him against the counter.

 At that moment, he really wants his mom. Why the fuck did she and dad leave him with this guy?

 “I don’t see you fucking working, or doing much of anything around here, kiddo.”

 “Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”

 A blow to his mouth. Richie resists the urge to lift trembling fingers to the spot that he can feel swelling.

 “Don’t talk to me like that, asshole! You think you’re so fucking funny, huh?” His uncle drags him forward and shoves him back with conviction, and this time Richie doesn’t answer.

 He should have known to stay quiet when he saw his uncle drinking and smoking incessantly in the house, even though his mother had requested that he stay outside for that. It must have been a rough day at the bar, or wherever the fuck he spent his time.

 “You need to learn when to be quiet, dipshit. Have some fucking respect.”

 For the guy who ignored him for years, didn’t stay in touch, and wasted his existence away on the couch.

 Right.

 But Richie is snapped from his indignant, grounding thoughts when his uncle lowers his voice. “Do I make myself clear?”

 Richie frowns in his face, utterly confused from the swell of attention, still limply holding a bag of bread in his left hand.

 “Do I make myself clear?”

 “Y-yes sir.”

 The wretched man makes a point to push him into the corner of the cupboards with such a force that he collapses to his knees and can just feel the bruises forming. And he sits there for a minute, all sorts of betrayal and anger and sadness suffocating him.

 But he stands up.

 And with stinging eyes, a stuffy nose, and shaking hands, he makes himself a simple peanut butter sandwich.

 And he stays upstairs for the remainder of the night

 It’s a warm, soothing day outside; the sun glows and birds are chirping like some kind of fucking cartoon. In the tall grass the losers sit in frogs croak and crickets chirp and they make a mess of themselves in the circle they form.

 “Damn, Rich, what happened to you?” comes Stan’s voice, concerned eyes flashing down to his now royally fucked-up mouth.

 “Yeah, dude, what the fuck?” says Bev through a sandwich, truly a charmer.

 Richie grins at Bev but answers to Stan, ignoring the sting in the corner of his lips. “Guess I’m a fighter at heart.”

 “Richie—“

 Bev chimes in once again, a bright, snarky grin on her face, “Richie, you can tell us if it was another accident, we won’t judge. Promise.”

 Bev has a way about her; he knows she’s not genuinely the largest, most gaping asshole on earth, and that she actually cared a lot and cried over her friends in the darkest nights, but she also knew how to make light of something dark (even the worst). She probably knew. She probably just had his back in her own funny way, like taking the pressure off the reality.

 “Bev, I’ve really, truly, always appreciated your charm, but as my dearest favorite person on earth, fuck off.”

 “Richie,” Bill says, then hesitates. In that time, Bev flips Richie the bird, which he answers with an air kiss. “What really h-ah-happened?” He looks him over with a frown, clear blue eyes swallowing him in concern and maybe love.

 Richie offers a simple smirk before settling against the trunk of a tree. “Don’t worry about it, Billiam. I’ve got it under control.”

 “Whatever you say,” Bev says. She tosses a baggie over to him with his favorite sandwich.

 Stan isn’t so easily convinced, eyeing Richie up carefully, but he sits with Bev on the boulder she’s settled on when Richie doesn’t falter in his casual disposition.

 It takes a lot of work, as always.

 Ben shows up moments later, with a calm and tender, “You alright, Rich?” and when Richie goes off on a stupid tough-guy spiel, he simply lays at the foot of the boulder and flicks open a book, meeting Richie with one of his melting smiles, a gentle invitation, a sweet If you ever need it, I’m there, but allowing him the space to go on as normal. Which is nice.

 Richie knows they all care. He knows he could tell them, could pour all of the terror and tragedy he felt the night before into the air and they’d fill up the space; Mike would give him the tightest hug in the world, one to combat the most heinous of things; Stan would sit with him as long as he needed it, Bev would come through with a smoke and the best advice in the world, and Ben would tell him stories or just hang out with him until everything felt a bit lighter, and Bill would give him anything in the world because Richie would do it back. That’s the way they were.

 But he can’t do it.

 “Sorry I’m late guys,” comes a nasally voice, huffing and puffing, new pressure leaning against the tree, and Richie grins. Eddie.

 “It’s okay, Eds,” he says, reaching over a few fingers to tickle Eddie’s knee, giggling when the boy smacks at his hand and doubles over with an exclamatory, Richie!  

 The others offer a few sleepy greetings, all soaked up in their own forms of entertainment for the quiet afternoon: Bev and Ben, heads close enough to share his walkman; Stan, reading some lengthy oath to birds or something; Mike snoozing lightly on Bill’s shoulder while Bill pores over some adventure map from a fantasy novel.

 They had all agreed that it was too tiresome to go swimming today, as the previous night was spent out at Stan’s with a bonfire, and for a few of them, some stolen booze (not very much, but enough that they could pretend to be drunk and giggle profusely). But they still wanted to hang out, so this was the middle ground. An afternoon picnic in the shade.

 Eddie quickly notices his lip and drops down to his side. “Richie, what happened to you? Was it Bowers again? I swear to god, I will fucking kill that guy--”

 Richie smiles softly at the protective words, and tries to turn it into a smirk. “Eddie, baby, don’t worry,” he says. “It’s just a little bump.”

 Surprisingly, Eddie sidles up next to him, using the pad of his thumb to press at the sides of Richie’s mouth, apparently assessing some sort of damage. “Don’t call me that.” He scowls. “What did you do? Did you ice it? Clean this cut at all? Cause you could get an infection, you know, you really should clean it.”

 Richie bats his eyes. “Clean it for me, sweets?”

 “Fuck off. Forget I cared.”

 “Ah, come on, Spaghettio. I didn’t mean it.” He pulls Eddie down with a simple gesture, pressing his palm to the boy’s shoulder and dragging. The boy rests against the trunk, nestled in Richie’s side.

 But that’s the complicated thing. He sorta wishes he could mean it. In a small, poking-at-the-back-of-his-head-always kind of way.

 “Just—tell me what happened,” Eddie pipes up quietly from his side.

 When Richie glances down, he takes to heart how disgruntled Eddie still looks, crossing his arms and almost pouting.

 He shrugs. “Your mother was simply affronted by how good I am with my mouth, Eds, she couldn’t take it anymore.”

 Eddie presses his mouth into a line, rolls his eyes at the stupid British voice Richie had developed, and busies himself with a thrilling edition of The Lancet

 Later, as dusk settles in and pale purple skies replace the bright blue, and the club leaves with simple ‘goodbye’s and promises to do something fun tomorrow, Eddie shifts from his nap. He’d passed out with his head slammed back against Richie’s arm (he’d caught it just before he fell to the ground, avoiding a lengthy rant about potential concussions and medical bills), curled in the opposite direction from Richie’s abdomen. As he wakes, through, he rolls over, elbow digging into Richie’s side.

 “Ah-ow,” Richie groans, sitting up from his cataconic state of reading Ben’s stolen comics and avoiding moving and waking Eddie. But he’d just dug the pointiest part of his entire firecracker body into Richie’s ribs, where Richie had attempted and failed to nurse a bruise he’d accrued from a vicious cupboard corner. It was at an awkward angle, and he refused to go down to get more ice packs once they melted, so he slept unsoundly and laid uncomfortably.

 “Sorry,” Eddie mumbles, voice muddled with sleep. “Shit, it’s late. When did I fall asleep? My mom’s gonna kill me.”

 Even in that gurgly, world upside-down state of post-nap consciousness, the boy freaks out about his mother. Richie sighs and rubs his shoulder.

 “You’re all good, Eddie boy,” he attempts for a creaky, witchy voice, but it’s half-assed because he gets so tired of this lady. Not Eddie ranting, that was fine, and he knew the kid needed to get it out of his system; but he was fucking tired of Mrs. K hurting his boy. “You took your meds on time, fell asleep shortly after. Might need to amputate my arm now, though.”

His boy.

 Eddie sits up, and Richie stares at his back, illuminated in the dusk, because he wore a fun yellow today, resting prettily against his tanned, freckled skin.

 (Maybe Richie had looked over, amused, for a few moments, as Eddie snored and twitched his nose in his sleep; and he counted the freckles on Eddie’s arm, his cheek, whatever he could see for entertainment.)

 Eddie glances back at him, and Richie distracts himself with his bag, shifting his eyes awkwardly from the boy’s gaze.

 “Well, well, good sir, shall I walk you home on this fine night?”

 Eddie’s brow furrows. “Richie, what’s that?”

 His eyes are trained intently on the aforementioned bruise, and its cousins that pepper his hips, only exposed because he slipped and let his shirt ride up when he bent over.

 He clears his throat, scrambling for some dumbass answer, wholeheartedly unprepared for the severity of this conversation. “You know how the ladies throw themselves—“

 “Okay, you know what, fine.” Eddie stands quickly, stumbling slightly, and braces himself against the tree. “You don't have to fucking tell me. Just come home with me, okay?”

 “A night with Eddie Kaspbrak? Why, you’re really a dream-come-true kind of guy.”

 “Your lip is bleeding again,” he responds simply, apparently not one for      fun    at this very moment. “I can clean it.”

 Richie pops up from the ground, feeling quite pip pip, tally ho about the whole thing. “Righty-o, Eddie boy.

 That’s how he ends up sitting on the edge of Eddie’s porcelain-white bathtub, dirtying it with his messy jeans and dirt-coated nails.

 It takes a lot of strategic planning, lots of sneaking past Mrs. K, and then sweet-talking and kisses from Eddie once she wakes up freaking out about how late he was. But, after about fifteen minutes of contest-worthy screeching from the woman, Eddie stomps up the stairs, slams the door with a very I’m gonna pull my hair out look, and has to take about three extra minutes to compose himself, ranting under his breath.

 Richie just stares at his distorted reflection in the shining silvery faucet, the violet under his eyes and the renewed puffiness of his lip, Hawaiian pattern of his shirt disheveled in the odd mirror.

 He knows not to engage unless Eddie actually speaks up to him, meaning this run-in was probably just overly grating and mentally draining, considering, well, how his mother is. He just needs a second to get it out, not any kind of heartfelt talk (which Richie sucks at anyway) or even a lighthearted joke. The boy paces and growls into a fist. Then, eventually, he breathes, “Okay.”

 Eighteen minutes. Eighteen minutes of sitting around and waiting for Eddie, just for him to kneel in front of Richie, doe eyes clear and focused, dabbing so, so gently at his battered lip.

 In a way, it’s heaven.

 “I take it your mom can’t wait for me to buy dinner, eh?”

 Eddie sighs. “Apparently this time I’m gonna contract malaria, Rich, didn’t you know? There’s an incredible outbreak this time of year and I’m obviously not prepared to avoid fucking mosquitoes, what with my fifteen bottles of bug spray and essential oils. I’ll probably die tomorrow!”

 “I will make sure that your funeral is a fucking rager dude, don’t you worry. Booze on me.”

 A ghost of a smile.

 “Richie…” he breathes out in a long winded way, saying nothing and everything for way too long. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

 Richie raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you were gonna back out on your previous offer, but I guess the call for a night with Richie Tozier is too much to back away from. I get it.” He smiles painfully at the way Eddie’s face crumples with something like boredom. “Christ, dude, what’s your poison?” He makes a face at the antiseptic substance that trickles into his mouth.

 “Maybe if you kept your mouth shut for once, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

 Richie beams, which just causes Eddie to huff even more.

 “Please, just stay still!

 “It was my uncle,” Richie finally says, forcing a bored expression onto his face as he flips through a rather dull magazine, sprawled on Eddie’s bed. “And it wasn’t a big deal.”

 Panic flashes across Eddie’s face. His cheeks burn red, and his leg jitters anxiously against Richie’s, but his voice remains level, which Richie thanks dear lordy Jesus for. “Your uncle? He hit you?”

 “Well,” Richie pauses. “Uh, kinda. He was just really drunk, Eds, and he got mad and I was in the way.”

 “In the way?”

 He shrugs, a small smile quirking his lip up. “Am I not usually?”

 “Rich.” Eddie’s voice is really soft in that moment, gentler and quieter than anything Richie has heard from him in all the time he’s known his fellow loudmouth. It simultaneously terrifies and thrills him. Eds. Eddie brings his knees to his chest, leaning back against the headboard. “You say a lot of dumb shit, but that doesn’t mean you should be hurt.” He must notice Richie’s uncomfortable look, because he adds lightly, “Most of the time, anyway.”

 “Woah, Eddie, don’t go overboard with the kindness or anything--”

 “Damn it, Richie.” He casts his eyes downward. “I’m just trying to say - um - thanks for telling me. Sorry if that’s fucked up to say, but I know you didn’t want to, so, yeah. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

 Richie swallows deeply with a slow nod, focusing his eyes on the blurry words in front of him. “Well, if there’s anyone I’d tell, it’s Dr. K. He’s gonna be the one to save my life, right?”

 Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right.” He kicks at Richie’s foot, a subtle way of telling him to move over so he can get under the covers.

 “Night, toots.”

 “Goodnight, Richie.

 Richie thinks he knows everything possible about Eddie thus far.

 He knows when he needs to take his meds, an internal clock he recently developed; he knows that the boy is not nearly as fragile as he sometimes seems, and if he really tried, he could pack a punch; he knows that he loves fervently and he’ll always take care of his friends, even if it’s in a way that would usually disgust him.

 Case in point: he didn’t seem to freak out at Richie’s bleeding lip, even when a steady stream of blood started dripping down his chin from the contact of trying to clean it out, though he usually cringed if he got so much as a scratch from a twig. Somehow, some way, he simply held pressure on the wound and told Richie to hold some ice on it (“Ordering me around now, hot stuff? I can work with that,”), and washed his own hands thoroughly in the sink.

 What he doesn’t know until that night, is that Eddie is a cuddler. At least, half-asleep, groggy Eddie is. Like, this kid must be more starved for affection than he is. Richie had curled himself in a ball toward the edge of the mattress, willing himself not to do so much as even press his back against Eddie’s, way too afraid of the ease with which two people can tangle themselves together in the night, terrified of what would happen if he woke up with Eddie’s hands on him, wrapped up in Eddie, Eddie’s terrible morning breath against his cheek, Eddie Eddie Eddie. But while Richie had stressed himself into falling halfway off the bed, Eddie had flopped over in his sleep, slung an arm across Richie’s waist and, seeming to sense that he had something to hold, pulled him in tight to his chest. Though Richie’s breath caught in his throat, he figured, well, no one could really see them then, so what was the harm in passing out like that? No one had to know. He could pass it off like he’d been sleeping the whole time.

 But he cherishes every fucking minute of it

 Richie wakes to the sound of something pounding, a steady beat, and in that state of slowly waking from a dream he thinks it’s some old drum, playing lowly in the corner by some restless figure. When he comes to, his eyes creaking open slowly, he sees the gentle orange-ish hue of the morning sky, the neat room around him, the scent of detergent and soothing fabric softener wafting near his face. And he realizes his head is tucked into Eddie’s side, the boy’s slowed heartbeat thumping softly against his ear.

 Normally, he’d just let Eddie sleep, as he’s usually only the asshole waking everyone up when it’s the whole gang. He doesn’t mind spending a few hours by himself in the morning. In fact, he enjoys the opportunity to try to fall back asleep (even though he never does).

 But with a sudden impulse, he lays a palm on Eddie’s ribcage and pushes himself up onto his elbows, then shakes the boy.

 “Eddie.”

 A muffled, “Mmph?”

 “Eds, wake up.”

 The boy drags a pillow over his ears for all of two seconds before Richie tickles his stomach. Then he crankily sits up and lets out a gruff, “What?”

 Richie grins. “The sunrise, Eds! Look, it’s so pretty, you have to believe me.”

 Eddie responds by laying his cheek on Richie’s shoulder blade, slumping forward with his eyes still closed. “You do know,” he breathes, “that if the sun is just rising, it’s like, six a.m.?”

 “Hmm, 5:49, but close enough, I suppose.”

 The most huffy breath that Eddie can manage at this hour tickles the hairs on the back of Richie’s neck. “Did you know that people who don’t sleep enough die a lot younger? There are serious health consequences.” It doesn’t come out in his usual fiery, punctuated tone; it’s soft and filled with a yawn and he’s pretty sure Eddie might fall back asleep just like that. “You can’t die early on me, Richie. And I don’t want to. Go back to sleep.” He peeks one eye open at the window, squinting at the glow of the sun. “It is pretty, though.” With that, he falls back against the pillow and curls into a ball against the wall.

 And Richie’s pretty damn sure in that moment that he’s, like, in love

 And, sure, that’s terrifying.

 He has no one to talk to about it and nothing could convince him it’s normal, so he shrugs it off and pretends it isn’t there.

 Cause that’s a good way to cope, right?

 It doesn’t matter that Eddie is so easily comfortable with him—he’s a low-pressure person, is all. And no one had called out the way pet names rolled off Richie’s tongue so easily, because that was just a part of his joke. Normal. Easy.

 Until it wasn’t

 You see, there’s this bitch Pennywise. This idiot clown terrorizes his friends, kills people, haunts their nights and days, and fucks with their minds. Tries to turn them against each other. And they can’t even throw a jest back! It’s a sick system.

 Well, anyway, the losers end up in some crickety, wooden, falling-apart-at-the-seams murder house on Neibolt, because Bill wants to find his brother and none of them are willing to abandon him. Instead, Richie gets to see himself dead, face off with a monstrous fucking clown, and hear heart-wrenching screams from Eddie that he can’t even help, because he can’t get out.

 When he does, he reunites with Stan and Bill, using the few seconds he has to catch his breath.

 Just as quickly, he loses it.

 In front of him lies Eddie, arm twisted at the ugliest, most heinous angle, and not only is he probably in pain and freaking out about the arm, but a 7-foot tall clown is sauntering towards him with a stupid swaggering gait, like it knows that they can’t do anything to save Eddie.

Eddie.

 The boy cowers against dust and fallen wood that must be itching to give him splinters; tears streak down his dirty face and his chest rises and falls rapidly, as Pennywise taunts him. Fucking horses around, making stupid noises and joking while Eddie falls apart, and Richie doesn’t know how to save him, even after everything Eddie’s done for him. Richie is vaguely aware of Stan grasping his shoulder, trying to ground him, and he silently thanks him as he glances around for fucking anything to use as a weapon, because he certainly can’t jump into this blindly--

 Then Beverly busts into the room and stabs the bitch in the head, and Richie can’t think but his feet are moving and he lands in front of Eddie in the few seconds’ time he has to play catch-up. He reminds himself to remind Bev of just how much he loves her later.

 For now, though, his focus is Eddie. His ears are ringing and he’s noted the commotion going on behind him, he even realizes that Bill ends up at his side, but his gaze is right on his Eds, grasping at his face, trying to do anything to help him.

 “Eds. No, no, no! Look at me! It’s okay. Please be okay.” He steadies his voice and tries really hard not to think about how much he sucks as a caretaker, how he has no fucking clue what to do, but he’s scared and he desperately just wants to take Eddie from the room and keep him safe, forever and ever.

 Terror-filled eyes find him as the clown continues toward the three of them, flexing horrendous claws; Richie kneels in front of Eddie and Bill’s at his back, and Richie knows Eddie acknowledges him but he’s whimpering and shaking and staring back at the clown. And Pennywise is thriving.

 “Eds,” he says, louder, grabbing Eddie’s chin and forcing it in his direction. “Please just - fuck the clown, okay? Fuck everything. It’s me and you. I’ve got you.” And he’d probably be much more convincing if he weren’t shouting and clinging to Eddie’s shoulders like it means death.

But, he seems to capture the boy’s attention, as he keeps his eyes steadily on Richie and blinks a few times. “My arm!” he cries. “Fuck, I can’t fucking move. I’m gonna die. It hurts, Rich.”

 “Hey, you’re not gonna die. I don’t die early on you, you don’t die early on me. That’s the deal.”

 “Some deals are made to be broken.”

 Eddie is just staring at him, blank eyes staring through him with a grin, a stark contrast to the screaming that was going on just moments before. A surge of panic rises in Richie’s chest, like a freezing wind knocking through his stupid little preteen body. He shakes his head in confusion.

 “Eddie, shut up. It’s just your arm. You’re gonna be fine!”

 A shrug. “Who’s to say?” And then he sits up, arm convulsing at his side like some dying snake, and Richie flinches and flies back into Bill’s chest. He can’t do this. He can’t help Eddie like he should, he can’t take care of him like he wants to. He’s a coward.

 “Rich.” Bill is a million miles away.

 Right here, right now, is that thing in Eddie’s place, body rattling like a rag doll. “They’ll find out.” Eddie’s voice is fucked up, scratchy, and his eyes are all wrong; the way he’s staring at him is fucking uncanny. “Get too touchy, Rich, and you know what’ll happen.”

 “Stop, please, fucking stop!”

 “Richie!” Bill is finally right there, shaking both of his shoulders from behind. “S-stop. You’re f-f-fine. It’s just fucking with your head.”

 It takes a few deep breaths, but Richie turns to him and says a quick, ‘Thanks,’ before turning back to real-Eddie, who is now dry-heaving and wailing at the sight of his arm.

 Eddie’s chest thrusts forward and back rapidly, and he keeps trying to back further from the bedlam in front of them. His face contorts into an absolutely heart-wrenching cry, and as he looks at Richie, gripping his hand with an iron fist, Richie’s heart splits in two. It’s hard, it’s way too hard not to say I love you, after all that. And it’s hard not to run.

 “I don’t wanna die - ”

 Richie crawls closer to cradle Eddie’s head. “Eddie, if you die I’ll kill you.” He wants to go home, he wants to cry, he wants to sleep for about three days and pretend this never happened. But he can’t. He has to be here for Eddie, as much as he wants to flee right now. “You’re not going to, you know that? I still owe you ice cream. And I’m gonna get you inside the arcade—“

 “Fuck the arcade!”

 Somehow, in all of the fuckery going on, Richie laughs. “That’s the spirit!” Eddie, in a scramble to back away from the startle of Pennywise running away, shifts into Richie’s lap. “Okay, Eddie, breathe.” Richie gulps down a breath himself. “I’m gonna snap your arm back into place.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, completely on fire, spitting poison at Richie. “Rich! Do not fucking touch me!”

 Richie winces at the words but he hears Bev screaming, “Richie, his arm!” and uses the moment of yelling to just do it, to get Eddie’s arm back to a relatively normal shape, and then he’s screaming and it’s like he wants Richie to cry in front of everyone.

 “Okay okay okay, it’s done. No more.” Richie, awkward and lost at what to do, brushes back sweaty hair from Eddie’s forehead, because he’s pretty sure the boy would hate how sticky everything had gotten, and if he could help even one thing, well, it’s something.

 He wishes he could help carry Eddie home, sit with him in the hospital, anything to cheer him up.

 But he doesn’t get the chance. Mrs. K is outside and snatches Eddie from the losers in the flash of an eye, talking like they broke his fucking arm or something.

 That’s when it all goes downhill

 Richie storms away from his stupid feud with Bill, the fucking dumbass who punched him in the face because he said he didn’t want a clown to kill him and his friends. He thinks it’s the most reasonable thing he’s ever said, objectively, but whatever. He doesn’t want to lose his friends. But in that moment, he doesn’t see many other options.

 When he trudges back home after his third day alone at the arcade, following newly-formed muscle memory to avoid his uncle (close the door slowly, shift weight and run upstairs, wait at least twenty minutes to go back down for food in case he stirs), he notices another car. Immediately, Richie throws open the doors, calling out, “Mom!” and finds her in the kitchen, with his uncle.

 “Hey sweetie, I just got home—“ she startles at the sight of him.

 “Jeez, that bad?” he jokes, running a hand through his hair. “Just remember, mom, half of this is ‘cause of you.”

 She approaches him quickly, summer blazer flowing behind her from the speed, and crouches down just slightly to be at eye-level. “Richie, honey, what did you do to your lip?” she asks. He doesn’t realize right away, but he tilts his head into her touch, and she strokes his cheek gently.

 Richie had forgotten about the whole ordeal—his friends almost dying at the hands of a killer clown was pretty damn distracting from his low-life uncle—but now, he sets a spitting glare on the man leaning back and manspreading at their kitchen table.

 “Uncle Alan had a few kind words to say over dinner the other night.”

 Her tender touch to his face is lost when she whips around to face his uncle, and Richie feels like a little kid again, standing behind his mom and clutching at her coat while she takes care of everything.

 “You hit him?” she says, her voice threatening in a low mumble, teeth clenched together. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You touched my kid?” She holds back a hand as though to shield Richie as she slams her other fist on the table.

 “How do you know it wasn’t one of his faggy friends? Or maybe some other kid with common fucking sense?”

 She leans down and takes him by the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare, Alan. What the fuck were you thinking?”

 Uncle Alan yells back in her face, spit flying, and Richie would jump forward to defend her if she weren’t holding him back so protectively (with one hand!). “Listen, Maggie, if he’s gonna act like that, I’m just preparing him for the real world.”

 “You absolute shit! You don’t get to make that decision!” Richie has never, ever seen his mother so angry. “You battered a twelve year old boy! What, do you feel really big now, you pathetic piece of shit? Get the fuck out of my house!” At this point, she’s shaken him and thrown him back against the chair so he falls, catching himself just in time as it cascades to the ground.

 “Fuck you, Maggie!”

 She follows him down the hall.

 “Fuck you!” Richie calls out at his retreating back, before his mother screams about pressing charges and slams the door behind him.

 Richie’s mom rushes back into the kitchen to face him. She’s red in the face, eyes on fire, but she softens at the sight of him.

 “Richie, sweetheart, I’m sorry we left you.” She cradles his face again. “Hey.” She holds him with both hands. “Listen. If anyone ever hurts you, you call me. If anyone ever so much as threatens you, Rich - ”

 Richie, choked up, interjects, “I didn’t know the number, mom. I don’t know where the little paper you wrote it on is, I’m sorry—“

 “It’s okay.” She looks at him for a few more moments, then swaddles him up in a big, mama bear hug. “I love you, kid. I hope you know that.”

 “I love you too.”

 For a few minutes, she just holds him, stroking his back while silent tears fall down his face and onto the chest of her shirt. She doesn’t seem to mind

 It’s late. Richie doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s on top of the world.

 He ends up at Eddie’s house, even though he knows they’re not talking and Eddie’s mom might kill him on sight, he has to see him. Mrs. K can go fuck herself.

 Outside the boy’s bedroom window, he raps quietly with his knuckles, just about buzzing with a high, high feeling toward life. He can see Eddie lying in bed, struggling to prop up a book to read, lamplight cascading onto his skin - that is, until he hears Richie, and flies toward the window with a crazed look.

 “What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, brows knitting together. “My mom will kill you if she hears you.”

 That doesn’t matter so much to him at that moment. “Eddie!” He swings his legs over the banister and jumps into the room, adrenaline and something like love pushing him to lift Eddie to his chest and spin. “Eds, my mom came home early and she kicked that motherfucker out of my house!”

 Eddie’s eyes are crazed from the spinning and he clings to Richie’s shoulder with his good hand; and he grins, a giggle caught in his lips. “That’s great, Richie. Fuck that guy.”

 “Yeah, fuck him! And god Eddie, she - she protected me, and we just spent hours together, watching movies and making dinner like old times, and it was amazing, and - god, I know I sound like a dork, but I - ”

 He pauses, mostly because he’s out of breath from machine-gunning a paragraph out of nowhere; but also because in his flustered state he didn’t register the sweet-cheeked smile that Eddie is currently melting him with.

 But when he does, Richie thinks to himself: sure, blue eyes are great; they can be compared to the sky or the ocean or whatever other cheesy nature bit all goddamn day. But Eddie’s eyes - hell, he doesn’t care if he sounds like a cornball - they’re fucking amazing. They usurp all of that bullshit. He’s used to them when they’re blown wide in surprise, or holding him in a steely glare for some dumb joke, and he loves them then; but right now he catches a kind of tenderness hidden in the dark. Something that envelops him in warmth and pinks his cheeks.

 Eddie takes the opportunity to pipe up. “Richie,” he says, “I’m really happy for you.”

 He means it. Richie knows he means it, because for the last several days, he’s heard Eddie mumbling to himself somewhat privately about ‘that piece of shit,’ and right now he’s clutching Richie’s sleeve and smiling without a trace of mockery.

 And he’s perfect.

 His tousled hair that’s rustled from what looks to have been a constant stream of fingers, stressed over the book or his mom or god-knows-what; the oversized t-shirt he’s drowning in and short shorts and perfectly matched socks; and those shining eyes and friendly smile and soft fucking hands that hold all the electricity of Richie’s excitement - all perfect.

 And Richie, Richie could just kiss him.

 He doesn’t.

 Mrs. K knocks at the door.

 “Eddie bear, it’s time for your nighttime oils!”

 Richie cracks a wise-ass smile. “Eddie bear, if I’d known you needed      nighttime oils, well, I would have come prepared.”

 “Get the fuck out,” Eddie says. The laughter catching on his lips tells another story.

 Richie throws an utterly charming wink in his direction and crouches in the window, preparing to jump out and make his escape.

 “Wait!” Eddie grabs the back of Richie’s t-shirt. “It’s cool that you stopped by. It’s - it’s been lonely in this hellhole. I might have gone insane if I thought you guys forgot about me.”

 “Aw, I’d never forget you, cutie.” Richie, stomach twisting and turning, supports himself with his forearm on the outside of the window. “And, anyway, I gotta practice my Romeo somewhere, right?”

 Eddie lets out a characteristic huff. “Whatever.”

 It’s quiet, save for the distant tweeting crickets, and the scent wafting through the nighttime is intoxicating, and for the following moments the world reminds them to just breathe.

 “You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

 “I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.”

 “I know.” He smiles. “I’ll see you, Tozier.”

 Richie, without any reservations (until he thinks back on it later), reaches out as though to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but instead, runs his thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “See ya, Eds.” He smiles. “I’m gonna get you out of here someday.”

 Eddie shakes his head as Richie takes his hand away from Eddie’s newly red cheeks and makes his way back to the ground, muttering, “My hero.”

 And Richie looks back with a grin at the silhouette of the dork in the window, saluting before taking off

 It sucks when Beverly leaves.

 It’s an early morning, red and orange hues breaking across the skyline like a cracked egg, and Richie, Stan, and Ben all gather around to watch her disappear off to the nearest airport, and then disappear from them forever. Though it’s not nearly as mopey and depressing as it could have been, it’s hard to watch her go; a warm energy follows her as she hugs them all goodbye, looking at them with her all-knowing, crooked little smile, rolling her eyes but expressing more love than any of them had ever known, and Richie knows she means every word of loving and missing that she says. And he knows he’ll miss her more than anything.

 He does. Not much helps with the pain of missing someone, but as the days go by, pieces of her slowly slip from his mind, until finally she’s all gone

 New Years offers promises of ‘new me’s and resolutions and maybe some kind of peace. And considering everything, it’s the saving grace Richie thinks he needs.

 A chance to forget his uncle, the murderous clown that haunts his dreams, and his personal revelation that he loves Eddie Kaspbrak.

 It didn’t ruin their friendship by any means, just made his cheeks flush and heart throb and his rebuttals come back stutter-y when Eddie merely smiled at him. It was stupid textbook puppy love. He never thought he’d fall for that.

 And, he’s not gay. He can’t be, or he’ll have to pay the price.

 It's just that Eddie is his best friend. They’re all best friends, but Eddie never really stopped engaging with his exhausting jokes like the others, when it was finally too much. Eddie always bickered back, he took the bait and bit back. Eddie took him home when he got hurt and cared for him and then went right back to fighting.

 He loves Eddie the way he should love someone like Bev.

 But it’s nothing.

 The night is cutting, crisp with a fresh wintery bitterness, biting at Richie’s nose until it’s practically bleeding. To be fair, he’d opted to only wear one of his lighter jackets and some gloves, so it’s his own fault that his scalp is freezing over and he’s shaking on his way to the loser’s little spot in the meadow.

 At least his friends are smart.

 Stan sports a matching tartan hat and scarf, bundled up around his face so only the pinkish tip of his nose is poking out; Bill has a nice puffy coat and a hat with a bauble rested atop his head; Ben’s ushanka hat is wrapped tightly under his chin, and he waves at Richie with mittens keeping his hands warm; Mike is representing a lot of fleece, and he grins at Richie, shaking his head when he sees his lack of winter clothes; and then there’s Eddie, wearing a coat that has to be at least an extra large, and a knitted cap, bundled up so only his fussy eyes and nose are squinting out at Richie.

 In Richie’s defense, he was running late, and he had sprouted a little bit in the last few months, so his previously comfortable winter coat was now tight and painful in the shoulders and chest. This jacket was his best option in the 30-second long window he had to get dressed and run out the door to attempt to be on time.

 Stan levels a look at him, thoroughly appreciating his idiocy, and obviously not pitying his shaking form more than a quick flash of sympathy in his eyes; he cares, but Richie obviously brought this upon himself. The ensuing cold would be his own fault, and he’d call Stan to complain, just to grin quietly as the boy went on the calmest rant about how stupid he is and then hang up. It’s just how they worked.

 Richie wonders if he’d tell a potential partner that they should have brought a coat to a date if they complained of the temperature. It’s beside the point, but amusing.

 “C’mon man, you didn’t think about a scarf at least?” Mike says as a greeting, laughing a little bit as he removes his own and wraps it messily around Richie’s neck. In that moment, Richie would give up his life for this kid. The body heat/fleece combo immediately brings him back from the brink of a nosebleed.

 “Richie doesn’t think, period.” Stan sticks his hands in his pockets and stares at him, ghosts of amusement playing on his cheeks.

 Richie flashes his teeth in a big ol’ grin. “That’s pretty accurate, actually, I just wanted to be with you guys on time so badly, you know.”

 Bill lets out a small, unenthused, “Aww.”

 Richie simply chuckles and tries to wrap his fingers in Mike’s scarf to help with the inevitable hypothermia. Eddie winds up next to him in their gathering, sucking in a big breath through his nostrils and huffing out shortly.

 He bumps Eddie’s arm with his elbow and says, “What’s up with you, Eds?”

 Eddie nearly topples over from the size of the coat weighing him down, and he curses under his breath before standing back up and glaring at Richie. “You really didn’t wear a bigger coat, dumbass?”

 “As you can see, no,” Richie chuckles.

 Eddie presses his tongue into his cheek. “Well, you can share mine. It’s more than big enough.”

 Oh.

 Right, sharing a coat. That’s fine. No pressure or anything.

 Richie aims for a cool response, some funny voice or smooth and subtle, and lands on, “Yeah, cool. Thanks.”

 So, they share. And it’s pretty great.

 Eddie unzips it and pulls Richie in, and they collaborate to pull it up and then Richie is pressed up against Eddie’s side, in public, already sweating even though he’s still cold because he doesn’t know if he can handle this.

 Fortunately, they’re hidden by the dark, so maybe the boy or their friends won’t notice his red cheeks (or they’ll chalk it up to the cold) and the extra focus he has to place on acting normal. Because Eddie smells nicer than most boys their age, and he’s got a heart too big for his body, and Richie’s sure that Eddie loves him back in at least some way. It’s not just anyone that would get to be this close, squeezed into a coat with him.

 Richie feels sick.

 But the fireworks are starting, and they might be sparse and lackluster in the hell that is Derry, but each loser looks to the sky with love, with appreciation, in awe of the fact that something beautiful can apparently come from hell.

 Barely, just barely, Eddie’s head falls against Richie’s shoulder as they gaze up into the inky black sky illuminated by cakes of fireworks, and he whispers, “Wow,” under his breath right next to Richie’s ear, and now Richie’s contemplating between the two possible causes of his death: he combusts, or he stops breathing - to be determined.

 Richie begs the universe for advice in the ultimate predicament. And to his great relief, memories seep back into his brain; those of freckled cheeks, teeth balancing a cig as a mouth talks, and bundles of ginger curls bouncing as her head turns in his direction.

 “Bev would love this.”

 Riche catches the way Ben looks over at him pretty much immediately - at them, sharing body heat in Eddie’s coat - and then how the boy stares at the ground and mumbles a soft, “Yeah.” He looks back at Richie, holds his eye contact for a sweet, lingering moment, then gazes back at the sky, hopefully thinking of love as much as Richie is.

 Bill, Mike, and Stan all follow, tearing their eyes away briefly to make quick eye contact with each other, and then Richie, and Eddie even shifts to look up at him, and they all smile wistfully as though the girl is there with them, snarky remarks and toothy smiles keeping them all afloat. Richie feels like he’s going to break open and cry enough to fill the whole universe, so he sniffles and looks back up at the sky, breaking the moment of magic.

 But it remains with them.

 It remains as they share this together, as they enter the new year together, promising hope for a happier future as long as they stick with each other.

 And it remains as Eddie Kaspbrak takes his hand under the coat and murmurs, “Happy new year, Richie.”

[cubeswhump]

Her Old Home: A Visitor

Here we see Sweetie when she lived with her first owner. Sorry if you were looking forward to some Michelle nastiness. Pretty fucking angsty (see warnings) but uh. Sweetie makes a friend.

This was supposed to be posted hours ago but I think my iron is low so I slept all day and then my pig (yes you read that right, no I do not live on a farm) threw a tantrum that would put any two-year-old to shame and I had to make him happy and then I had to do exposure therapy. Now watch Sweetie make her pig happy.

Also I misspelled bruschetta so many different ways in my first draft.

Thank you @moose-teeth for the Guard Dog concept.

Tagging @more-miserables @haro-whumps @albino-whumpee @eatyourdamnpears @broken-horn @whumpsblog (If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, just say and I'll write you down for next time! Same goes for wanting to be removed.)

Warning for institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, ableist language (brief), implied dub/noncon, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy in general, physical and emotional abuse, self-harm, self-deprecation, thoughts of abuse toward a minor, creepy caretaking (kinda?), suppression of stimming (very brief).

The pet stared with wide eyes as her owner took the good clothes out of the closet. Excitement bubbled inside her and the previously forgotten emition nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Mister Trey," she said quietly, daring to speak up. "Are we going out?"

He sneered at her. "Of course not. Are you retarded? Wretches like you stay in the house."

"Yes, Mister Trey. I'm very sorry." What a fool she was to have such absurd hopes, but the curiosity piped up within her brain, begging for answers.

"You don't need to know my reasons; all you need to do is what you're told. Now get fucking dressed," the man growled.

As he stalked out of the room, smoothing his greying hair, the pet dropped her sheer nightgown.

The nice clothes seldom came out of the closet, so how did they smell like Mister Trey's ashtray? She wrinkled her nose. The red skirt slid down her hips and she had to fasten its button with an elastic band. The shirt was so tight around her stomach too, and she couldn't even hide how she'd fastened her skirt.

She couldn't help shuffling into the bathroom to see the mess she was in the mirror. Her reflection's face contorted hideously and gripped its bulging stomach. The pink shirt was taut against the growth and showed a slip of pale skin below her navel as she fought to pull it down. She looked uglier than ever.

A little girl with her father's beautiful blue eyes and thick hair so unlike her mother's in the way it doesn't escape her pigtails prances around in a fabulous blue dress. Mister Trey spends so much money showering their daughter with gifts of clothes and toys but he doesn't complain. The kitchen smells of savory spices when she runs in and tugs on the wild-haired woman's conservative dress.

"Mama, Mama!" the girl exclaims in her squeaky voice. "Come play!"

The woman looks down and smiles. Her neck is bare. Bad thought, you're a pet. Her collar is stylish and comfortable. She holds a spoon to the child's lips. "Blow on it, baby, and tell me how it tastes."

The little girl blows so hard some broth splashes out, but her mother only laughs. She takes a noisy slurp and beams. "Mmm!"

"Good?" the woman asks, and the little girl nods emphatically. "Okay, I'll leave the soup simmering while we play."

The woman allows the little girl to take her hand and pull her right along into a different scene.

"Mama, Mama!" the child yells, and the woman scrubbing smokey baseboards in a translucent nightie fights the urge to cover her ears.

"Not now! Mama's busy," she says harshly. Her hands are red and raw but she scrubs and scrubs, nightgown wet after the day's cleaning and chafing her skin.

"Mama, I wanna play!" the child whines. Though its mother makes sure to keep it clean and fed, it's dressed in rags and covered in bruises.

The woman suddenly spins around and grips the child by its fragile shoulders. She forces herself to look into its eyes and gates the way she sees its father in them. Shut up, you love your owner. "Look, baby, I know you're bored but you'll have to just deal with it. We both know what your father will do if the house isn't clean when he gets home."

The woman releases the child's shoulders and turns her back. She doesn't want to see the tears pooling in its eyes.

The woman pet, younger now, stroking a black cat in the garden. A faint smile plays on her lips as she is warmed by the sun.

An infant's shrill cry pierces through her peace. The stupid brat always ruins her peace, what little time she has to herself. It was all she could do to not yank it out of its crib and shake it until it's quiet.

The pet whined a little, face crumpling in the mirror. She was awful, wretched, terrible. She seized her hairbrush and started beating her stomach with it. "I hate you! I don't want you! I don't want you!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mister Trey screamed downstairs. "What's taking so long? Hurry up!"

The pet huffed and puffed, stomach and chest heaving so much her shirt threatened to burst. The slender fingers gripping her her hairbrush were white against the black handle. She slammed the brush down on the counter and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes in an effort to keep the tears in.

"Bitch! Hurry up!" Mister Trey boomed.

The pet placed a hand on her stomach. It stung from each blow but now she stroked the growth as tenderly as a newborn kitten. "I don't really hate you, baby... This world isn't right for you. And I'm a pet, not a mother."

"I don't want kids, Mama. I don't want a husband either. No one can tie me down!"

Confusion replaced misery. Where did those words come from? Had she uttered them? Who was Mama?

Stupid. Of course she had a mother at one point. As a pet, though, she has long since given away her right to have parents. She was a simple pet that was meant to serve. Her only family was her owner, and she loved him so, so much.

Her owner, who was waiting impatiently. Her blood turned icy. She tried to run from the bathroom but a sharp, white-hot pain knocked her to the ground. She cried out, convulsing as the pain radiated from her neck throughout her body.

Feet thundering up the stairs. All she could see were the tiles (did she already need to mop again?) and Mister Trey's shoes. With the click of a button, the pain stopped and she was able to be pleased that she had polished his shoes so well that her agonized face was reflected on one toe.

Still twitching, her hand moved to wipe away the drool that had trickled down her chin. A big hand grabbed hank of light brown hair and yanked her up. Her legs scrabbled achieve balance as her scalp screamed.

"When I say to hurry up, you fucking hurry up!" he roared, face twisted and nearly purple with rage. "What are you playing at, Bitch?"

"'M shurry..." Had her tongue grown thicker? Ugh, she sounded horrible. This wouldn't do.

"Come downstairs now!" He let go of her hair without warning and she dropped, chin hitting the floor so hard that for a moment she worried her teeth might break. Her tongue ran over the backs. Safe.

He stomped out of the room as she pushed herself up. He said to hurry but he'd be even angrier of she came downstairs with her hair sticking up and tangled. She raked the brush through it and sighed at the amount of hair that came back between the bristles when she pulled it away.

She ran down the stairs so fast she almost fell, stumbling on the last step. Mister Trey caught her by her arm, finger going wag-wag in her face like she was a naughty puppy.

"Clumsy girl! You be careful with my heir," he barked.

"I'm very sorry, Mister Trey," the pet said hastily, moving to kneel before he stopped her.

"I'm expecting company. Get started on negroni and something to eat."

She hurried off to the kitchen. She didn't know how much time she had to prepare so she had to come up with something that could be made quickly but wouldn't stale or turn to mush if this visitor took a while to arrive.

She had just drizzles the last of the balsamic vinegar when the doorbell rang. She picked up the tray and hurried to greet the visitor, but not so fast that the drinks would slosh.

There wasn't one visitor, but two. The shock collar around the stocky, taller one's neck quickly told the pet why Mister Troyer only mentioned one visitor; the second wasn't even a person.

"Right on time. Oh, look wgat she has for us!" Mister Trey's teeth gleamed in his perfect smile.

"Isn't she a Romantic?" asked the other owner.

He was less handsome than both his pet and Mister Trey, heavyset and balding with a pinched face, but he seemed... genuine. No, horrible pet, your owner is the most genuine man alive!

"She is," Mister Trey said. "Isn't she lovely?"

"Your romantic cooks and serves you on a platter?" asked the other owner, eyebrows raised.

Mister Trey took away the tray and wrapped an arm around his pet, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "She's perfect. Now, show some respect for Mister Brighten. Position five."

Both pets dropped to their knees, palms down and foreheads pressing to the floor. Mister Brighten sighed. "Come on, Ajax. You don't have to do that. Get up."

His pet, Ajax, was upright in an instant, right by his owner's side. His expression was hard as stone. "Yes Sir, sorry Sir."

"Tell your girl she can get up, Kyle," demanded Mister Brighten. The girl was shocked to hear someone bossing her owner around.

"Get up," Mister Trey barked, and she did so. As Mister Brighten tirned his attention to regard the female pet, he frowned, squinting at her stomach as it stuck out over the waist of her skirt. This early on, he couldn't tell if she just carried extra wait in her midsection, or if Mister Trey actually...

"You should buy your pet clothes that fit," Mister Brighten scoffed, and heat rushed to the pet's face.

No, don't blush! Embarrassment insults the owner! But it was hard not to feel embarrassed as she regarded herself in her socks and ill-fitting clothes, with her hair that refused to cooperate, and then looked at the others. Mister Trey in his smart suit and shiny patent shoes, hair nice and gelled. Mister Brighten with his suit as well. Even Ajax looked nice, fantastic curly hair in a neat ponytail and a button-down tucked into his slacks.

But Mister Brighten softened as he looked at the girl. "What's your name, honey?"

She opened her mouth. "Bi-"

Mister Trey cut in. "That doesn't matter. This is Ajax?" He reached toward his slick black hair, hand retracting when the boy snarled. "My God! Discipline your pet, Will."

Mister Brighten's ever-present frown deepened. "He's a Guard Dog. He's meant to be wary of people other than his owner."

"I'm a friend of your owner, Ajax. You treat me with respect, you hear me? Now, let's not let this food go to waste."

"I hope you made enough for Ajax," Mister Brighten murmured, sitting across from Mister Trey. The other owner snorted.

"Does he need it in a dog bowl?" he joked.

"You know he's still human, right?" Mister Brighten asked dryly. "How about the pets take their plates and leave us owners to talk business?"

Ajax gave a nod. The girl looked ro her owner for approval, and he waved dismissively. She took four pieces of bruschetta to split between two small plates, and did an awkward curtsey.

"Enjoy your bruschetta and negronis, sirs," she said, though it felt very belated. She turned to Ajax, murmuring, "Shall I show you the garden?"

Ajax looked to his owner. His owner nodded. "Go ahead, Ajax. She's safe."

Ajax nodded and followed the other pet. She led him to the back garden and he patiently listened while she showed him all her plants" "This here, my tomato plant, is my favorite. I grew the tomatoes on our bruschetta myself. I used to have an eggplant bush but Mister Trey said he doesn't like eggplants and it's an eyesore so I had to dig it up, which was a great idea from him. I don't know what this cactus is, but I really, really like it. And this..."

Once she had introduced every plant, the pets lapsed into silence. Ajax took a tentative sniff of his bruschetta before taking a bite. He really was like a dog, but at least he chewed with his mouth closed.

The girl didn't think she had ever interacted with a Guard Dog. She hadn't interacted with many pets at all; Romantics were dirty sluts and the orher trainees rightfully kept their distance.

"What does your owner call you?" Ajax asked at one point, surprising her. "He wouldn't let you say."

"I don't think he wants people to know," she replied.

Silence again. Then he spoke up. "May I ask a question? It might be rude."

She frowned a bit. She, a pet, was being asked for her approval? And who was this other pet to speak so casually?

"All right," she agreed.

"Are you pregnant?"

The girl pulled on a lock of her hair, moving it toward her face. She stopped herself from putting it in her mouth. Bad, Bitch! No chewing. She nodded.

"Pets aren't supposed to get pregnant," Ajax pointed out.

"Mister Trey wants an heir," she informed him.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means..." She paused, frowning again. "I don't actually know, but it's very important to Mister Trey, and I want him to be happy."

"As you should. I strive to keep Will- Mister Brighten happy."

"I'm happy if Mister Trey is happy," the girl went on. "So, so happy. And very grateful for all he's done for me."

Ajax nodded. He swallowed the last bite of his bruschetta while the other pet's sat untouched.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Could you do #28 indruck? Or maybe OT4?

#28 was: Mermified. I went with Indruck. Hope you like it!

The rocks on the window start the night he moves in.

He writes it off as an anomaly, or perhaps kids from the town deciding to toy with the new resident.

After three nights in a row, he’s beginning to understand why this house was such a bargain. Yes, it’s a lovely houseboat for one on the Pacific coast, offset from much of the neighborhood for privacy. But every night, small rocks and shells will hit your window, disrupting your already tenuous sleep schedule.

It can’t be a human, because his bedroom faces the ocean, and he’d hear or see a boat or paddleboard or whatever else they used to get there. For awhile he assumes it might be a ghost; his last apartment was actually haunted by a miner who died from the Spanish Flu. They got along rather well, as he didn’t manifest often and Indrid was always careful to leave him offerings or tokens of respect on days like his deathaversary. 

But after scoping the house top to bottom, using a Oujia Board, and just politely asking if there was anyone there who needed to talk to him, he’s disregarded that possibility. 

And tonight, he’s made the mistake of sleeping with the window open, meaning the chunk of bull kelp hit’s him square in the face.

“Oh for goodness sake.” He sits up, sticking his head out the window to glare at the waves.

The waves glare back.  Or, more accurately, a face sticking out of the waves does. 

“Do you mind?”

“Yeah, I mind a whole fuckin’ lot.” The man swims right to the side of the house, locomotion too smooth for there to be legs beneath the water, “I mind because this whole area is under my protection, and this big fuckin house is gonna fuck up this cove.”

He knew there were merpeople along this coast, he just wasn’t expecting to see one up close. Or for it to be so grumpy.

“I’ll have you know I asked for multiple modifications to this house before I moved in. It is designed to have almost zero impact on the marine environment.”

“Uh huh, sure.”  The merman crosses his arms, “you ain’t just sayin’ that to get rid of me.” A flash of yellow light under the water. 

“Well, technically, I am. I would prefer to not have you hurling things at my window every night because you think my leaving is the only way for your patch of ocean to be safe. A strategy, I take it, that worked on my predecessors.”

“Yep. Most left after a couple of days.”

“Most probably had more places they could go. I do not.”

“Ain’t my problem. Never shoulda let them start buildin’ here in the first place; wrecks havoc on the forest.” He glances towards open water, tips of giant kelp just visible in the moonlight. He sounds tired. 

“How about this: you keep an eye on this cove, and if you notice any issues directly caused by my home, I will leave. But if not, you stop throwing things at my window.”

“Fine.” The merman turns, makes to dive under the water, then spins around, “but if I catch you tryin’ anythin’ funny, next time I’m throwin’ a shark through the window.”

The next night brings welcome silence at his window. The day after, however….

“What are you doin’ here, anyway?”

“Good afternoon to you as well.” Indrid doesn’t look up from his drawing; a benefit of being born with odd, future seeing abilities is that he isn’t startled by the merman’s appearance (said abilities don’t function well when he’s sleep deprived, which is why he didn’t see the merman’s initial appearance coming). 

“I mean, y’all can build houses wherever you want up on land. Why live on the water?”

“Because I find it peaceful. I have limited luck living in cities, and have grown used to isolation.”

“Don’t humans have to have jobs? You ain’t left here except once to get food.”

“Spying is impolite.”

“So is livin’ on someone else's turf without askin!” The merman raises out of the water, and Indrid finally gets a good look at him. He has dark hair, mismatched eyes and, just visible, a row of fins like those of a leafy sea dragon dotting his lower back. Ironically, his build is one Indrid finds attractive, a mix of muscle and fat that undoubtedly would feel nice to hold. Were it not for the complication of the tail.

“I am an artist. I draw for a living, hence my ability to live out here. And nobody told me there was a merman living around here, so I did not have the option of speaking to you ahead of time.”

There’s a huff of annoyance, and he barely moves his drawing out of the way of the splash as the merman disappears. 

Three days later, he’s once again sitting on the back deck when he hears, “You ain’t seen an injured seal around, have you?”

“No.” He looks up, finds the merman looking thoughtful as he scans the waves and shoreline, “ah, what does it look like? What color is it?”

“Smallish, speckled grey. Got caught in a net and all torn up gettin loose, but I can’t find it.”

“I will keep an eye out. Should I signal you if I see it?”

“Hmmm….yeah, that should work. Maybe hang somethin’ bright' on that line?” He points to the clothes line. 

Indrid closes his eyes, focuses on the futures.

The merman sniffs, intrigued, “somethin smells good.”

“It’s my lunch. It ended up not quite being what I wanted, you are welcome to try some.” 

The merman grabs the take-out bowl of soup, sipping from it gingerly. His face lights up, and then he gulps the remainder down.

“Damn, that was good.”

“It’s french onion soup. I can bring you more in the future if you’d like. Also, odds are good you’ll find the seal you seek on the beach about a mile that way.”

The merman blinks, “Shit, really? Thanks man.”

“You are welcome.”

The merman hesitates, a flash of white, barely visible in the daylight, zips under water, “Uh, name’s Duck by the way.”

Indrid smiles, “Indrid. Good luck with your search, Duck.”

Duck smiles, bright and friendly as the beach on a hot day, “Thanks.”

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

Indrid awakens with a cry of alarm. It’s only a nightmare, not even a bad vision, and yet he’s so rattled sleep becomes an unreachable goal. Hoping the night air and lapping waves might help, he drags a blanket onto the back deck, laying down with his back to the water. The nightmare pursues him still, setting off a dozen related memories and fears in his mind until he’s shuddering, trying not to cry. 

A cool hand touches his hair and he freezes for a moment before another gasp pushes from his chest, the images flooding his system too much to ignore. The hand continues down his back a ways, then starts at his head once again. 

“Why?” He says, not even sure who he’s asking it of.

“Helps the seal and otter pups when they get upset. Thought it might help you too.” Duck replies, “I was doin’ a night round and heard you yell. Came to make sure you were okay.”

He wants to say thank you, but the words are weighed down by the realization of how long it’s been since anyone did such a thing. 

“You...pet the pups? Doesn’t, doesn’t that make it difficult if they are eaten by something?”

“A little. Sharks got as much right to live as they do, but still, sometimes they need comfortin if their parents are out huntin. Not my job to protect ‘em from predators. I’m just the keeper of the forest. Means I look out for the animals, the plants. Nature does most of the work for me; lot of my job boils down to makin sure humans don’t fuck everything up.”

“It is a habit we seem to have.”

A pause, Duck’s fingers playing gently with his hair, “Not all of you.”

Indrid rolls over and Duck rests his arms on the deck, soft blue flashes coming off his tail. 

“Will you tell me more about what you do?”

“Sure.”

Duck talks and Indrid listens until finally his eyes droop closed. He wakes up hours later, a bit chilly but with the blanket drawn around him. He wonders how he avoided falling into the water in his sleep. Until there’s a soft splash as his nighttime gaurdian slips back into the waves.

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

“Ta dah! No, wait, stay over here. That’s a good boy.” Duck proudly circles the large ray he’s herded near Indrid’s boat as Indrid sits down to draw. Over the last few weeks, he’s brought the human more and more items to include in his illustrations, after Indrid mentioned he was working on a pictures for a book about marine life. 

It started with brightly colored shells or seaglass left on his deck, then Duck would ask for mason jars or bowls to help place a fish safely where Indrid could sketch it. Lately, he’s taken to shepherding larger sea life where Indrid can see it; seals, otters, rays, even a shark. It’s almost as if he’s showing off, and Indrid notices that his tail flickers bright green whenever Indrid flaps his hands with excitement or thanks him for his help. 

Duck visits him every day, even on days when there is no drawing to be done. They talk, or eat together, and Indrid has even hung a hammock out so they can talk well into the night without him accidentally rolling off the deck or Duck having to watch over him until he wakes. Duck can only be out of the water a short time, but he’ll join Indrid on the deck to sun himself, tail bright green and leafy at the “V” that marks the tip of it. When Indrid asks about the lights, Duck explains that they’re tied to his emotions, something to help merpeople signal to each other even in the darkness or murkiness of the ocean. 

Indrid buys a kayak, paddles out into open ocean with Duck as his guide, the merman eagerly showing him his favorite places, introducing him to wildlife, and generally mooning over him whenever he thinks Indrid isn’t looking. 

The mooning is mutual, of course. Duck is funny and kind, easy going now that he knows Indrid is not a threat to his beloved kelp forest. He’s also painfully handsome in Indrid’s eyes, but the futures show scant chances for Indrid to admit this fact without torpedoing the relationship. 

Their laying side by side on the deck tonight, dusk creeping across the sky. In the fading light, he notices Duck’s fins flashing between white and green.

“Are you alright, Duck? You’ve been rather quiet tonight.”

“Uh, um, yeah? Fuck. Uh, you remember me tellin’ you about my friend Aubrey?”

“The one dating the human surfer girl?”

“Yep. They, uh, Aubrey said they finally worked up to kissin. I never heard of mer kissin’ a human and likin’ it before, usually we do it on dares when we’re young and foolish.”

“You seem to be going somewhere with this.” Indrid rolls over, smirking at the future he sees. 

“No, uh, fuch, uh, I mean, would, would you ever wanna try it?”

“With any merperson, or just you?”

“Me.” Duck says softly.

Indrid leans in, cups the back of his head to draw him into a kiss, salt and sun mingling on his lips as Duck moans. Sun-warmed skin caresses his back as Duck pulls him closer, and a cool, smooth tail hooks over his ankles. 

“Indrid, I, I really, really like you.” Duck whispers, kissing a line along his cheek.

“I really, really like you as well, Duck.” Indrid runs a hand along his side, watches his tail light up bright blue at the touch.

“Can, can we try bein’ together? Like Dani and Aubrey are?”

“Of course.” Indrid grins, then gives a muffled laugh as Duck kisses him once more, rolling atop him, wiggling happily as the kiss deepens, Indrid teasing his fingers along his fins to make him whine. 

Then the mer gasps, dropping into the water and coming back up panting.

“Shit, that was close.”

“You were out too long?” Indrid shifts to his stomach

“Yep. Can’t blame me for gettin’ distracted, and honestly I’d fuckin pass out if that’s what it took to kiss you again.”

Indrid bends down, kissing him softly, “no need for such drastic measures yet. But I agree it would be nice to have, ah, dalliances that can last a bit longer. I’m sure we can think of something.”

They try filling the bathtub with seawater, but can’t get Duck to it. Indrid opts to swim, but he’s not a strong swimmer, and any beaches where they could be half in and half out of the water are either too well-traveled or made out of sharp rocks that hurt them both. 

They have some success when Indrid lays on his side, facing the water, to touch himself, moaning Ducks name and telling him just what he’ll do to him once he’s able as Duck frantically kisses him, tail flashing blue and purple. 

But after night after night of longing looks, too-short embraces, and kisses at odd angles, he decides enough is enough. 

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

“Why have you come, young man?”

“I wish to make a deal. There’s something I need you to enchant.”

The man grins, cat-like and hungry, “Very well. But it is going to cost you.”

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

Duck circles the patch of kelp he’s checking for the tenth time. He can’t focus, should just go home and rest, but he needs to keep occupied so he stops worrying about the note he found on the deck two days ago.

Duck, 

Have a problem that needs solving. May be gone several days. Don’t worry, it will be alright.

Love, Indrid.

In spite of the reassurance in the letter, he’s terrified that Indrid might be hurt. Might have left him entirely. 

An unfamiliar shape flits in the corner of his vision, and he turns.

“Holy fuck.”

“Good afternoon to you too.” Indrid grins, swimming to him a bit gracelessly with mottled black and red tail. The red and black fan of fin on his lower back flashes bright green for a moment. 

“Indrid.” Duck says with awe, not quite believing his eyes even as his tail curls around Indrid’s own.

“Indeed. I, ah, found someone who would help me. Help us.”

“Are you, uh, stuck like this?”

He shakes his head, “No, I have a charm” he holds up his wrist to reveal a small cord, “I can go back to being human as needed. But I, ah, I can no longer see the future. I...that was the trade for this.”

“You gave that up just for me?” Duck cups his cheeks, brushes their noses together.

Indrid grins, “Yes. After all, whatever the futures may hold, whatever I can no longer see coming, does not matter half as much as the future I’m holding right now.”

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Thranduil

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter1

Masterlist

Summary:After Daenerys death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost with out her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races. 

Warnings:Angst

Words:1,500

Tears were running down my face, my knees fell on the floor. In front of me was the body of my beloved mother, with a dagger on her rib cage “No! No! No!” I whisper to myself. Jon stare to me with a guilty look “Daenys...I’m sorry...” I lift my gaze from my mother corpse to him, furiously looking at him with my violet eyes “WHY?” I scream to him. Jon was about to talk when we heard Drogon roaring and walk to Daenerys body, rubbing his snout on her body, trying to wake her up. He then looks to Jon, lifting his head high, growling to him. I walk forward, staying between them. Putting my hand on Drogon neck “Everything she did for you! The sacrifice that she did for you and for the North!” he took a deep breath, tightened his hands “Daenys...Your mother was mad. What she did to Kings Landing was horrible. The innocent people and children that she killed... There was no excuse.” my body start shaking when he finishes. This bastard! He should burn. My mother did what should have been done. If she became mad then was they fault who turn her like this.  

Drogon starts roaring loudly, almost making the red keep shaking with his screams. He was mourning the loss of his rider...of his mother. Then he pushes his head high in the air, took a deep breath and set fire to the Iron Throne, putting all his rage and anguish on the throne. Me and Jon stand there with a shocked face, watching the iron melting with his hot fire.  

When Drogon stopped, the throne was just a puddle of melted iron, still with some parts on fire. We stay there for a moment, watching to where would be the Iron Throne that’s now was just a big hole, an empty space. Drogon pick up Daenerys with his claw, he lowers his shoulder, letting me mount him to his back. I try to clean my tears as I climb to his back, pushing some pieces silver hair behind my ear. I grab the spikes on his back, sitting comfortably. Looking to the sea in front of me, I will take her to Valyria, buried her there with all of our ancestors. Taking a deep breath “Valand.” with my order, Drogon jumps in air, flapping his wings, taking us to our home.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stare to her face which was losing her beautiful color. I’ve put her in stone bench surrounded by red roses. One of my tears have fallen to her soft cheek “Rest well, mother....I love you so much...” my lower lips start shaking as I try to stay strong like she was. Drogon lower himself, rubbing his snout on my back, trying to comfort me “Looks like we are alone.” I say to him, giving him a little pet “A Targaryen all alone in the world it’s a terrible thing....” I whisper to myself.

I should go back and continue what my mother left to do but I couldn’t...i couldn’t rule the seven kingdoms, I'm not like my mother, not strong like her. I’m not even like my father, from all the tales that my mother told me about him. His name was Khal Drogo and the story that would always fascinate me was how my parents fall in love and how he promises to my mother that he would give her the seven kingdoms. The only thing that I inherited from him was my light brown skin, the rest was from my mother. Everyone says that I look just like her but with light brown skin, with my long silver hair and violet eyes.  

I kiss each of her soft cold cheeks “Good bye.... Muñnykeā(Mother)” I took a step back, look to Drogon then to her “...Dracarys...” with that he set fire to the corpse of my mother, giving her a true Targaryen funeral.

                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun start rising up from the horizon, letting the sunlight bathe me with a warm feeling. I stir as I feel a warm breath tickling my face, opening my eyes I saw Drogon looking at me with tired eyes. I stand up from where I was lying down, looking around, I saw that where my mother body was, it’s now a pile of ashes. I stay here all night, watching her body burn. Tears begin rising up again. What will I do without her? I know that anyone, except the unsullied and the dothraki, don’t want to see another Targaryen on the Throne. Maybe I should return to Meereen, there I have a home and some friends. I look to Drogon “Well, Drogon....Let’s go visiting some friends.” with that I climb his wing and sit on his back, grabbing his spikes “Valand.” and with that we start flying towards Meereen.

During the trip, I notice something strange on the clouds. They were almost pitch-black and it wasn’t very normal, it looks like a storm.  

We start getting closer, the winds were stronger and colder. I grasp tightly on the spikes for not falling over of Drogon. This isn’t normal! A huge thunder blew in front of us, making Drogon disoriented, I try to led him lower, to get out of the storm but he unbalanced by the strong winds. We start falling, a scream escape from me as I cling to Drogon. Suddenly the storm stops, making Drogon balances again and land on a vast tall grass.

I stay on him, trying to catch my breath and looking to my surroundings. Where the hell am I? I don’t remember this place. It’s mostly all trees and grass around us, with a road some yards ahead. Fuck! Everything in my life is happening horribly badly.  

Suddenly I hear a wagon coming closer, I look to my right and saw an old man driving a wagon that was full of ...colorful sticks? The old man was wearing a grey robe, with a pointy grey hat. Maybe I could ask him where am I, “Excuse me, Sir?” I yell to him as he was a bit far from me. The old man stops and look at me and Drogon with huge wide eyes, the smoking pipe falls from his mouth as it was hanging open.Shit! Maybe it was a bad idea since I was mounting a dragon. The old man jumps from the wagon and grab his strange wood stick “WHO ARE YOU!? WERE YOU SENT BY THE DARK LORD?!” the old man yelled to me as a light start forming on the end of his wood stick. What the hell?! Dark Lord?! I lift my hands up, showing him that I'm not a threat “Please, sir! I won’t do any harm! I just wanted to ask you where am I? And in what direction it’s Meereen?” I said quickly. The old man stops the light and looks to me confused, he walked closer to me, eyeing to Drogon “What’s your name, Young Lady?” he asks, observing Drogon like it’s was a beautiful artifact “My name is Daenys Targaryen. And what is yours?” I said politely “I’m Gandalf The Grey, my Lady. Nice to meet you.” I nod “I notice now that you aren’t from here and what beautiful...beast that you have there.” he said, nodding to Drogon. I start feeling rage boiling on my blood. Mother always hated when people call beasts to her children “No! I’m not from here...and he’s not a beast! He’s my friend.” I said firmly “Now, could you tell me where am I?” he nods “You are close to the Shire, in Middle-Earth!” What? Shire? Middle-Earth? I don’t know those places. I never heard about them.  

Gandalf must notice my confused state “My Lady, I see that you have questions and I love it to tell you everything but you can’t stay here with your friend! It's to dangerous. Follow me, I have a cabin near. There you could rest and hide the dragon, also answering some of my questions.” with that he jumps to his wagon and order the horse to move. I stay there thinking if I should follow him. What if he kills me? Or worse...No! He couldn’t do anything because Drogon is near.

Sighing, me and Drogon start following him. Let’s hope that everything will be okay.

Hey Guys!!! Here the first chapter of the new series. I really like it writing this. Hope you like it. Feel free to comment and tell me what you think.

XOXO

Taglist: @llama2264​ @tigereyesf​ @aeryntheofficial​ @crazyonesarethebest​ @yes-captainstark​ @ultrabumblebeeisus​ @gwendelerynan​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @numwoon44​ @danri-and-thomas​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @lespaceboi​ 

[crystu-cii]

OF COURSE!!!! I'd say you're hella close to it!!! Definitely closer than I am XDD 💖💞💝💕💝❤️💕💕❤️ A G R EED /hj XDD

Yeah ;w; oohh that sounds super interesting!! I can understand not pursuing a story tho, stories are d i f f icult-- XD fun, but difficult, and you need an attention span for them! (Why do you think I only write one page stories??)

OMS yessss that's so accurate tho-- like I haven't changed much if I'm being honest (I spend a LOT of time inside.. XD) awww-- I can understand that- in japan we didn't have a backyard, so I stopped going outside much at all-- occasionally I biked to convenience stores or walked to vending machines, that was cool, but no backyard :/ having no backyard sUCks, like where am I supposed to scream into the void?? INSIDE?? /j

OMS-- CRYS XDD what a Mood™ tho- "oh I'm gonna continue this thing!!" *does something else entirely*

XDD It was done Against My Will™ (get Against My Will on the album I Haven't Awoken Well Rested Since I Was A Child by the band The Bags Under My Eyes Aren't Makeup! XD) MOOD-- I spent the quarantine summer doing nothing but staying up until the sun rose and sleeping until it was at its peak- where did the time goooo

I AGREE HOW DARE HE- LIKE EXCUSE?? YOU TINY HEATHEN??? anyways now I'm trying to go back to squirting him with a squirt bottle to startle him(even tho he's a fan of water, the harsh spray startles him) but anyways thank you crysss I'm never getting a cat in my life now bc of this rude child (dogs are superior anyways /hj)

(and now time to reply to the OTHER ask cause I'm efficient and not going to send two separate asks to respond to things that can be responded to at the same time.. ....why did I even ramble about that wtf henry(huh I never refer to myself by name that felt weird))

Okay!! No worries dude, you can always take your time with replies, I just don't trust tumblr XD 💞❤️💕💝💝💖💕❤️💖 of course!!! Thank you!!! 💖💕💕💖💞💕

Oooh!!! That sounds super fun!!! Man I miss hanging out with my friends-- but my closest friend(lives in my neighborhood) has a parent who works in other people's houses, so high risk, and the rest live several hours away :)) but anyways yeah that sounds hella!!!! I love that y'all were just like "okay well. we're gonna hang out anyways." XDD

Aww-- I'm glad you are!! My brother and his bf were supposed to come but I think we have to postpone that cause someone in his workplace tested positive for covid :( YESS FOODDDD-- oooh cheesecake?? I've never heard of having it on Thanksgiving!! Usually we have pumpkin, cherry, apple, and pecan pies!! (We're having pumpkin and cherry ones this yeah!! Two pumpkin pies, a cherry pie, and a cherry cobbler--) I... Have never heard of pineapple pie in my life! Sounds like it would make pineapple-on-pizza haters burst into tears tho--

YOURE WHAT-- CRYS YOU HEATHEN IT IS NOVEMBER!!!!! /j I can't stand Christmas music, being a choir student made me not be a huge fan of it-- too much Christmas music.. ugh. (Straight no chaser is tolerable at least. And Pentatonix. And covers by artists I like. But if I have to hear Jingle Bells ONE MORE TIME--) YESSS BESTOW UPON ME THOU'S PRESENCE AND PRESENTS... Ooh nice!! Pfft XDD Yess- I have multiple on my wishlist-- mostly for the switch-- OMS I CAN'T BELIEVE I DIDN'T ASK FOR THSC-- MAYBE IM THE HEATHEN--

Okay, it's January 5th! Literally not even two weeks after Christmas-- Feel free to scream happy birthday at me :3 XDD now I'm curious, what's yours?

awhhh thank you ;w;; 💕💞💕💞💞💕💞

and legiT- and omg- also what i do a lot is thinking i have a story all in control but then i realise that i only focused on the main parts and nOT the transitions and all that shit and then i end up last minute thinking them- XDD and ngl one page stories sound SOO much better- imo- not just for writing- but for reading as well- whenever i go to see a fanfic I always read the ones that has one chapter- dunno how to fully explain it- possibly cause its satisfying to see a story actually have its end other than a long lasting series that will never end- XDD oneshots are my FUEL

buT WoW omg this topic has now made me realise how i barely go outside- XDD i wish there would be other thingd around my neighborhood other than a "park" that has DEAD GRASS and the sprinklers go off like every hour for some reason- duNNo what the builders were thinking but i guess i dont mind- i stay in my house a whOLELE lot xD

and YESS IT GETS ME EVERYTIME- "hey lets draw-" *-WRITES-* XDD AND ABHAHAHAHA (NOW ON YOUR LOCAL MUSIC STORES- XDDDD) and omG MEEE- the times i would usually sleep would be around 3 am to 6 am- ironically my mom has a more screwed up schedule than i do- and SHE STILL HAS- last night she told me that she hasnt slept in 48 HOURSSS- MaMAAA PLEASE SLEEP

GO AWAY CAT HEATHEN- XD and omG a squirt bottle of water yes XDD and awh i definitely understand now how youll not get a cat- sounds like a hecka pain ;0;; i never even had a pet before (or not that i would recall- oh wait i think i had fish but i have an embarrassing story that made my mom ban fish from the household- OH MAN the shame)

and yeahh oh man- i hope you are okay with all these topics XDD and thank you!! 💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞

awwhh i see- i wish you can hang out with your friends without it being too risky! that reminds me of that one time where my friend said "hey so uh you guys can hang out at my house since at my parent's workplace someone was positive for covid" and then immeadiately after they were like "SO WE NEED TO GO TO ONE OF YOUR GUYS' HOUSE" and Im LIKE- UH- NOO??? nOt AfTEr you just say THAT- nuh uh- thankfully we didnt hang out that day- better safe than sorry xD

and omggg those pies sound AWWESOMEEEE- i always wanted to try pumpkin pie before but when i asked my mom that she was like "nO iTS diSGusTing" and im like "*visible confusion*" and lOwKEY SAME- pineapple pie just sounds a bit off but my mom was really hyped to make it xD i'd actually say its not that bad! but im still not a fan of pineapple so uhhh xD (aNd YEAH IT DOES feel like it would make those haters cry-- XDD)

and PFHAOHFA IM A LIVING HEATHEN- XDD omg at this time of year- it gets CRAZYY for me- first off- Tree is a true filipino- right when it was the first day october- youd hear them say "FUCK HALLOWEEN"(and id just whine to them like "BUT HALLOWENENENEN") and then their family set up a whole christmas tree and over-the-top decorations- and omg- if you hate christmas music- you would despise the philippines sO MUCH- when the FIRST day of SEPTEMBER hits- CHRISTMAS MUSIC ON ALLLLL THE STORES- it will drive you WILDDD ( yeah its actually a normal filipino thing- not that i ever went to the philippines myself at tHAT time of year- but my friends and family tell me all about it- filipinos are the true christmas maniacs XDDD)

and awhhh choir must be a pain ;0;;; that would remind me how on one concert- the beginners class of choir screamed on purpose even though they werent supposed to- the teacher got so pissed XDDD and YESSS PRESENTSSSS- and awh man- i actually dont own ANY consoles at all- so the only things i can ask for is steam games- last year for christmas i got just shapes and beats- which was WORTHHH

and oo YAY- now i shall mark that on my calander- XD and mine is february 7!

[barbarasbae]

Just a Taste-The Dirt

Part four of Just a Taste 

Vampire!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

This chapter is very exposition heavy and I tried to make the formatting bareable

Warnings: blood mention, some smut, violence, death mention, near death experience, abduction, violence against women, 18+

SMUT BELOW THE CUT. be careful young readers

original gif by @bills-skarsgard 

“Hey, wake up.” A gruff voice demanded, shaking her thigh. “What?” 

“I wanna eat.” 

“Okay.” She suddenly remembered what he meant as he pulled her panties off her hips. She rolled over to her back in an attempt for it to be easier for him. He took his time, resting his head on her thigh, just barely dipping his tongue in her folds. In the sun, it wouldn’t take much to get her to say he looked like an angel, even with the fangs that could end her life in seconds. He nibbled delicately on her little bud, her sucking in air, her knees lifting. He smirked, her feeling it against her lower lips. “Does this hurt?” He asked, nudging the little scratch he accidentally gave to her the night before. “No.” 

“Okay, good.” He came up all of a sudden, blood covering his mouth. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, pulling himself out of his boxers. He put her ankles on his shoulders, rubbing his cock up and down her slit, her reaching down and gripping two of his fingers as an anchor. “Billy…” She whimpered softly, her headboard tapping the wall. Her door then opened, Y/n letting out a shocked gasp as her mom came in. “Morning sweetie, it’s time to get up.”

“Thanks mom. Can you shut my door?” She did, Billy going over from under her bed and locking the door. He pounced on her, pulling her legs back on top of the sheets and towels, cock bottoming out inside her. “Gotta give me a little bit of a warning...oh god.” She moaned, lips sucking on the column of her throat. “Y/N! THERE’S PANCAKES ON THE COUNTER!” Her dad yelled, Y/n trying to ignore it in favor of the boy that was inside her. She reached down, rubbing fast circles on her clit as an attempt to get off quickly. “If we didn’t need to be done quickly I’d tie your arms to the bed.” He gave in an empty threat, in favor of not just using his partners to masturbate. His abs flexed, a shuddering breath leaving his mouth. His thumb starting to fight her fingers for control of her clit. He won, her hand flying to her mouth. He came with a hard exhale through his nose,  her biting down on the back of her fist. He got off of her, finding his clothes. “See you at school.” He told her, kissing her cheek. “Bye.” She muttered, but he was already gone. 

“Meet me outside the boy’s locker room after practice.” Billy said in her ear in between the last bells of the day. She nervously waited in her car, watching the basketball team come out of the school before she headed towards the gym. She waved to the coach who had been talking to a kid named Christian that was in her English class. She got yanked into the locker room, a scared shriek leaving her body. Billy laughed as she caught her breath. “Not funny, asshat.” 

“Yes it is.” Billy was very naked, she realized. She looked away, coughing in embarrassment. “Why’d you kidnap me?” She asked, looking at her feet. “Wanted to talk to you.” She jumped, his voice in her ear. “Don’t make me put a bell on you like a cat.” She joked. She turned, hearing him zip up. “Trust me, babe, you’d be the first of us to wear a collar.” Her jaw fell open, him smirking. “I may have lied about what I wanted you to meet me here.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I wanted fuck you before I have to go home and deal with my dad.”

“Not happening here.” She said definitively. “We can go to my house though.” That smile was already getting her in trouble. 

She took a deep breath and tried to think about how she was willingly sleeping with a vampire while said vampire parked his car. He could still smell what they had done this morning on her bedding when she let him in her room. He didn’t really good look at it the night before, thinking everything was just about as girly as he had expected from her. It was cute. “Your parents gone for a few hours?”

“Hour. What? I have homework.” 

“You’re not giving me much time here, baby.” She knew she shouldn’t but she felt special when he called her pet names. “Then work fast.” She winked. 

He didn’t have to be told twice, pulling her to him and unbuttoning her pants. There were some desperate kisses exchanged, her fingers pulling apart the buttons on his shirt, then moving to his zipper. She climbed on her bed as the clink of his belt sent a shiver up her spine. He stripped to his boxers, her pulling her top off to also just be in her underwear. He crawled in between her legs, warm hands sliding up her thighs until they found a home on her hips. His mouth was heavy against hers, a silent refusal to let up as her lungs started to burn. She tugged on his wet curls, gasping in a breath. She let a hand travel up his back, Billy teasingly sucking on the hickey that he’d painstakingly made the night before. Then something on her dresser caught his eye. “Wait...what’s this?” He sat up and grabbed it, her protests coming a little too late. He sat back and scanned it, looking up at her confused. “Y/n, what’s this about?” He lowered it from his face. It was her vampire notes. “Are you going to kill me?” Wooden stake had been highlighted and circled. His lower lip trembled a little. “No! I-I just-I was scared and curious and didn’t know how to process that I had slept with a vampire-” 

“You coulda just asked me.” He sounded upset. “I’m sorry.” He got up and threw it away, pulling his jeans back on. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Going home.”

“Billy.” He looked up at her, his eyes red. She had really upset him. Shit. “Billy I’m sorry. You just scared me so bad when you said you would kill me if I told anyone and…” she trailed off, him walking to her and throwing her over his shoulder. He grabbed her clothes and then carried her down stairs. “Billy! Billy where the hell are we going?!” 

“Get dressed.” She did, Billy pulling his shirt back on, finding his boots. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. “Bring your coat.” She did what he told her, but he still threw her back over his shoulder and carried her to his car. She buckled, gripping the leather seat once he started backing out. He drove to the quarry and parked facing the water. “Billy you’re scaring me.” She said softly, watching the blond as he thought. “I really thought I had met my best friend in Santa Cruz. He was cool, older, good with girls. I thought he was gonna just show me how he does it, like teach me, you know?”

Billy didn’t look at her once while he recalled how he was turned into a vampire. It had happened about a year and a half earlier. Billy was standing on the boardwalk, flirting with a blonde girl and her red haired friend, the girls getting ice cream. Then this guy in a black leather jacket and a bright smile swooped in. “Come on girls, do you really want Rob Lowe jr to tell you where the fun is?” They were both on this guys arm in an instant, the guy waltzing away with them as Billy watched in shock. It happened again three days later, the guy telling him not to worry too much about it. “Plenty of bitches in the sea.” He winked, leaving Billy yet again alone. Billy would be lying if he said he didn’t find this douche attractive. Yes, physically, but there was also this...energy he had that just drove Billy’s curiosity wild. So he figured out where and when he was on the boardwalk and convinced himself to go talk to him. At least get him to tell Billy how he got girls so easy. 

“Hey! Rob Lowe jr!” The guy crowed. “Hi.”

“You come to finally get me off your turf, kid.”

“No...I wanted to know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Get girls so easily.”

“Sorry, magicians don’t reveal their secrets.” He told Billy and started walking off after a group of surfer girls. “Hey, wait up! What’s your name?”

“Jonathan.” 

“Jonathan.” Billy repeated. He started following Jonathan around, Jonathan showing him how he got girls so easy, taught him how to pinpoint what each girl’s weakness would most likely be based on how they smiled alone. It was crazy. And it worked. After Billy had been in Jonathan’s friend group for about a month, they brought him to this cave on the beach. “What are we doing?”

“You’re joining the big leagues, man.” Jonathan slapped him on the shoulder. There was a girl Billy’s age tied up, gag in her mouth. “Man, what the hell is going on.”

“It’s time you know what we actually do with most girls.” One of Jonathan’s other friends, a tall guy with long, brown hippie hair named Aaron going over to the girl and taking her gag off. She yelled for them to help, Billy feeling sick as she made eye contact with him. “Hey, calm down sweetheart. Just relax. It’ll be over soon.” The brunet said in a sickly sweet tone, the girl crying and trying to get away from him. Then Aaron had fangs. Aaron had fangs.  He held the girls shoulders down, sinking his fangs into her neck, a disgusting gargle leaving her throat as he drank her blood. Billy tried to make a run for it, but Jonathan was ahead of him and grabbed him by the back of his neck. “You’re so pretty, Billy. You’ll be such great bait.” He said, slamming the younger boy on the ground. “Get the fuck off of me!” Billy screamed, Jonathan straddling him. Jonathan pinned his arms down, someone else gagging him. “Be still, it’ll make it less painful.” Billy kicked and flailed, trying his best to get away. But he couldn’t get away and Jonathan sunk his giant fangs into Billy’s neck. Billy screamed into the fabric in his mouth, his vision starting to swim, a hum vibrating from Jonathan’s chest into his own, a noise of satisfaction. Billy was absolutely terrified. “Bring me a knife.” Billy felt too light, vaguely seeing Jonathan cut his arm before forcing Billy’s mouth open, the gag gone. Billy gagged as iron flooded his mouth but his limbs felt like lead. He couldn’t move. “How sweet, crying for help.” Jonathan teased, Billy blacking out as a pain like fire rocketed through his veins. 

Billy woke up on the beach, the waves too loud. “You feel ok, bud?” Jonathan’s voice found its way into Billy’s ears. “Fuck you.” He just laughed.

Billy stopped talking, looking over at Y/n. She had interlaced her fingers with his while he was talking. She looked down at her lap. “I’m so sorry, Billy.”

He shrugged. “Why’d you come to Hawkins?”

“Neil thought I was spending too much time with Jonathan. Thought we were fucking around. Also, I almost killed the mailman.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m kidding.” She relaxed, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

“Its okay. I get why.” He said, knowing how scary it was to be on the receiving end of those fangs. “Wanna go get burgers?”

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Please send me an ask or dm if you would like to be tagged in this series

@xxphoenixflyerxx

@thats-so-rhyan

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Beauty and the Beast, Part 1

I’m absolute Beauty and the Beast trash.  We’re going with my own take on the tale with a female beast.  This is going to have a fluffy as fuck relationship, some smut, and a happy ending, but yeah I had to make this angsty in places so just be forewarned.

Per period standards you wear dresses and have long hair, but otherwise as usual I try to leave the rest of your appearance to your imagination.

----

Deep in the woods, down an overgrown and forgotten road, lies a castle.  If you were to ask the surrounding towns and hamlets who their liege was, they would answer that they had none, they never had in fact, and they were lucky enough to govern themselves for the most part.  In this castle lives a queen, forgotten and bitter, ruling over nothing but empty halls and bleak gardens.  As an arrogant young woman, left to rule early by the untimely death of her father, she spurned an old hag who had come asking for shelter.  Turning away her ugliness, declaring that such a visage had no place in the gilded halls of her palace, she watched awestruck as the hag morphed into an enchantress of such perfect and ethereal beauty the queen began to weep.  

The queen begged for forgiveness on bended knee, but the sorceress looked down her nose at the gesture.  She saw the queen for what she was: hardened, vain, cruel.  So the sorceress cast her curse.  The castle and its inhabitants would be forgotten by the world, left to rot for a century.  If the queen could learn to love, truly love, and earn the love of another in return, the curse would be broken.  So the servants all became avatars of their work, left sentient and mobile enough to keep things running.  The queen was cursed with a twisted, dark visage to match the cruelty and malice hidden within.

Nearly nine feet tall with a shaggy coat of auburn fur, matching the hair of her human form.  Her face was unrecognizable, like some cross between a cat and a goat, with rams horns curling over her ears.  Her eyes, at least, were the same cool green they had always been, although as the years went on she became less thankful for the burden of knowing that what she saw in her reflection truly was her own face.  She was broad at the shoulder and at the hip, with a feminine waist and figure, although the hugely muscular arms that came from helping to propel herself with her knuckles were new.  She dressed mostly in masculine clothing now, her father’s old shirts and trousers altered to fit her frame. Of all of the changes this curse wrought, this she was the least upset over.  Even as vain as she was, she had always hated gowns and preferred the elegant lines of men’s court dress.  Having an excuse to don breeches and shirts was the only silver lining she could find.

It had been nearly ninety years since that night, and her time was growing slowly to a close.  It had been three decades since a human had even set foot in her castle or on its grounds, and none of them could leave the bounds of their land.  It had been years since she had even left the castle grounds and ventured out into the surrounding forest, still technically part of the estate.  She’s walking the garden when the sound of muffled sobs near her rose bushes draw her attention.  A human woman is huddled on the cold ground, the first frost taking hold and leaving nothing but freezing hard earth.  Her face is in her hands, head bent and hair loose from its plait and curtaining her.  When the human sniffles and wipes her cheeks, the queen gets her first look at you, eyes glassy with tears and face slack with grief.  You’re still so beautiful, and she’s intent on wooing you to break this wretched curse.

~~~

You had never really fit in when it came to the other townsfolk of your small hamlet.  You had your father, your horse, and your books, and that was enough for you.  Well, mostly.  It would have been plenty had it not been for the others in such close proximity.  While it’s convenient to live within such close proximity to the market square, and therefore the book shop, you still feel incredibly out of place.  

“Ah, my sweet lovely bride, there you are!”  Oh, and there’s also Gerard, who you really wish had just died on the front lines at war instead of coming back lauded as a hero.  Not only did this inflate his already massive ego, but the hero worship he received made him feel entitled to the attention and affection of any woman he so desired.  It just so happened he desired you.  You’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve spurned his advances, getting progressively sterner with each no you’re forced to give.  You’d have thought after the first few times he’d move on to someone else in the village, but he seemed absolutely stuck on you.  

The glares from other eligible women that come with the attention from Gerard make you even more reluctant to go into town. You had a hard enough time interacting with others out in the world without the constant heat of glares on the back of your skull.  Honestly, you wish those glares really would set you on fire.  Maybe then at least you’d be rid of Gerard, what with the disfiguring scars that would be the result.  “I am not your bride, Gerard.”  Your deadpan reply and flat stare do nothing to deter him.

Perhaps, if you were interested in him in the first place, his attention would be flattering.  You cannot deny that he is an attractive man, tall and muscular with an angular face and masculine jaw.  His clear blue eyes are cold though, and calculating.  You want love, desire, passion, the things that your parents had in their marriage.  He wants you because you’re beautiful, not because you’re you.  “Come now, don’t be so difficult pet.  What more could you want in a husband than myself?  Rich, powerful, handsome.”  The way he purrs the last word makes the two girls peeking out from the baker’s shop sigh and swoon.  It just makes you sigh...in exasperation.  

“I don’t know, Gerard.  Love, respect, intelligence?”  Your biting remark makes him scowl at you darkly, grabbing your jaw painfully with one of his large hands.  

“Listen here, pet.  You can refuse me now, but your father won’t be here to protect you forever.  What then?  We all know unmarried women of your station are worth less than nothing.  Or do you want to wind up out on the street?”  He shoves your face away like it burned him, scowling as he gruffly calls for his footman to follow him.  You cup your tender chin and walk back home, foregoing a trip to the bookstore today as you had planned.  You try hard not to let what Gerard said get under your skin, but it isn’t as though he’s wrong… Still, you have your father, and your home, and as long as you have that you have the hope that you can hold out for someone who will love you.  

Returning to the little cottage you shared with you father you were immediately struck by how quiet it is.  This is unusual, especially considering that at this time of day your father should be wrist deep in his latest noisy project, humming along to some internal song that only he can hear.  Instead you find him slumped over the table, still breathing but not conscious.  You’re rushing, and do what you can to make him comfortable on a pallet on the floor while you run out to get a doctor.  

Sadly, along with the doctor you find Gerard, and he insists on coming along.  A stroke is what the physician called it, and there was the possibility that your father would never wake.  Gerard gave you a pitying look, but tried to twist it to his advantage.  “See, pet?  What are you going to do now?  How will you care for him?”  You kick him out with a teary glare, and the physician helps you get him situated into a cart in order for your father to be taken to the local clinic where he’d at least get round the clock care.  

When you wake up the next morning, you’re worried.  If nothing else, your father was at least cared for.  There was enough money stashed to keep him at the clinic for months, but not much else.  You’d get by on your stash of preserved food for a few weeks, but what would you do for money after that?  It is with this thought on your mind that you pack a bag with enough to get you through the day and take off on your horse into the forest behind your village.  Instead of taking the well worn road out to the larger village a few hours ride from here, you decide to take a detour down an overgrown path.

You remember walking this little road as a child, but cannot seem to remember where it leads.  You stop for lunch at the side of a small stream, allowing your horse to graze and drink while you relax with your feet dipped into the cold water.  When you mount back up the sun is well into the sky, although not quite at midday, and the air is warm enough that you can remove your cloak.  The fresh cool air is nice, and you take your time following the path until it ends at a rusted wrought iron gate.

When you dismount and walk up to the gate, curious, something spooks your horse and sends her bolting back the way you came.  You run after her for a while, but as the sun crests in the sky at its highest point you know that you’re going to have to find somewhere tonight to hunker down in order to make it back to town tomorrow.  With any luck, your horse will have made her way back without you and she’ll be waiting when you return.  

The walk back to the gates is long and by the time you reach them again the sun is dipping below the trees, casting long foreboding shadows.  When you try the rusted gate it pops open with a groan that shakes your ribs, just enough for you to slip through.  The walk from the gate is lined with beautiful and terrible statues, the lifelike marble women being embraced and devoured by demons.  Gooseflesh raises on your arms, but it isn’t like you have much of an option anyway.  You cannot be out in the forest at night without protection, and your cloak and bag are still draped over your mare’s saddle.  Rubbing your arms for warmth you continue trekking up the path, although you’re distracted by a branch off of it that leads to a garden full of rose bushes surrounding a fountain.  Sitting on the fountain’s edge you sigh, gazing at the blood-red roses peeking out from the verdant green.  

You aren’t sure when you begin crying, but a chill wind cools the tracks of your tears along your cheeks.  When you lift a hand to wipe them away, more come unbidden, until you’re heaving on the stone with great, body wracking sobs.  It takes a few moments for you to calm, memories of your mother’s casket, covered in roses.  Your father’s limp body slouched on your shared table.  It would be so much easier if you could just disappear.  

The crunch of gravel under heavy feet makes you startle, sniffling and trying to compose yourself before you call out.  “H-hello?  Is there someone there?  I’m lost, and looking for a place to stay for the night.”  You call out to the wind but hear nothing back, but you still follow the sound as best you can.  There’s nothing there, although if you were a tracker you may have noticed the huge, clawed footprints disturbing the chilled grass.  You follow the path back up to the huge castle, standing trembling in front of the giant wooden doors.  

As soon as you place a hand on it, it opens as if by magic.  “Hello?  Is there anyone there?”  The way your voice echoes around you is haunting, and you can almost feel the tingle of something otherworldly in your bones.  “Hello?  Please, if there’s someone here, I need help!”  You shiver at the breeze that passes through the castle, but the murmur of voices and a faint flickering coming from down the long hall to the East seem to draw you in.  “Hello!  Please, I’m lost in the woods and need a place to stay for the evening, until I can find my way back in the light of day.”  

The murmuring you thought you heard stops, but the faint flicker of a fireplace still glows in the distance, growing ever closer as your feet click solitary footfalls onto the marble floor.  You enter what looks like a sitting room, with one huge fireplace along the back wall, two wing back chairs in front of it with a small side table between them.  There’s a chaise perpendicular to the two chairs on one side, and a settee on the other with a huge black waistcoat draped over it.  You marvel at the size of it, surely whatever man wore this must be the biggest person in the world.  It looked to be in good condition, if a little frayed at the buttonholes, and importantly much like everything else in this castle it was without a speck of dust.  

“So, you’ve decided to let yourself in then.”  The voice makes you gasp, and as you turn to greet whoever owns that voice you stumble.  Falling, you’re prepared to hit the unforgiving stone with your skirt-covered bottom but you’re surprised to feel a cushion beneath you instead.  It’s an ottoman, a sentient ottoman, and it gives a rough bark like a dog before scurrying away with you firmly seated on its back.  It settles down by the fire, with you still on it, and you’re frozen there with confusion.  You look back over at the doorway, finding a hugely imposing figure standing there silhouetted in the darkness.  “Has no one ever told you it is rude to impose yourself on others?”

The voice is somehow feminine, but that seems impossible considering the size of the figure before you.  Surely they are at least as tall as the door frame, if not taller, and nearly as broad across.  “I’m sorry to intrude, I was out for a ride when my horse bolted without me on her.  There was no way for me to make it back to town before nightfall, and surely out there alone I would freeze to death.  Please, I apologize for my rudeness, but I would appreciate a place to stay for the evening.  I do not have much to give you, but I will do my best to repay you as you need.”

There’s a low growl from the shadow, and then a rough laugh.  “A place to stay, hm?  Are you sure you’re any safer in here than you are out there, girl?”  The shadow steps out into the ring of light emanating from the fireplace and you gasp when you catch your first sight of the beast.  Your heart is beating like a rabbit and your breath coming in fast gasps.  The snarl and scowl on their face bares huge teeth at you, but their eyes are full of more fear and self loathing than they are burning hatred.  Something about their eyes draws you in, there’s the same burning desire for love and acceptance deep in there that you can read much like your own.  “Well?  Nothing to say then?  Too scared to run?  To scream?”  But you simply fix her with a shy smile, pulse still nervously flitting in your neck.  

“I’m not going to run from you.”  You aren’t prepared for how cute she looks as her face goes slack with confusion, like a lost puppy.  “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

[boymeetsweevil]

bts as boyfriends

a/n: tbh this was basically a list of things i just had swirling around in my head and its basically a continuation of my moments w/ bts and sleepovers w/ bts

Kim Seokjin

Squishes your cheeks together in his big ol’ hands because he can and because he thinks you look cute that way

Is highkey a fan of having matching stuff, but not full-blown couple outfits

thats where he draws the line >:|

Created a separate instagram account just to document the meals you guys have together on your date nights

Dumb (but cute) snapchats of him doing that fast yelling thing he does but he just tells you how much he misses you rly aggressively

also spams you with selfies and videos from other members’ accounts

Pets names hmmm

prefers to call you Doll 

yeobo seems too serious (its what his parents call each other)

Sweetie/Honey makes him feel like an old woman

On your one year anniversary he gave you a 5000 dollar watch but presented it in a box wrapped in printer paper that had his face printed all over it that he made in Microsoft word with some of the editing crew’s help

all of his gifts get wrapped this way 

Jin Is scary serious when you take a selfie together

“Babe, this isn’t the angle--quick lets move over here so we can still catch the light” ***proceeds to sprint ahead of you to some random spot where the lighting is optimal and hurry u over like “ >:( cmon the sun is setting” ***

Is not your typical PDA type, will do weird things just to embarrass you

puts his hand in your back pocket while you’re in the starbucks line and smiles when you give him incredulous side eye

rests his phone on your head to mock you for being shorter than him

Links arms with you like old lady gal pals while you’re walking because he knows you HATE IT

fake moans when you swat his arm for being weird and embarrassing

you shushing him and ending up just glaring because he has no shame and there’s an old man glaring at u on the subway

You can bet he tests out recipes on you!

some of ur most romantic nights have been when you come over just casually but the whole house smells like food he’s been tweaking

you sit at a stool by the kitchen island and he comes by with like 8 different sauces you need to try and noodles to test for texture

He is the type of boyfriend that thinks its funny to gross you out

he eats food the fell on the floor just to piss you off

will kiss u while he’s chewing gum :(

touches u with his bare feet  :((((((

Min Yoongi

Is less bold but NEVER lacking with his affection

Likes to take walks in any weather

E.g. Loves when its rainy because then you have to huddle close because he INSIsts on sharing an umbrella

E.g. Will even walk in the winter/end of fall because he likes to share mittens and scarves - this is the closest thing to cheesy you will ever get with him

Isn’t the type to send selfies

if he does, its just of his shoes of the day with an ironic caption like “rate my fit and i’ll follow back” 

Readily accepts all of your selfies, though

Upgraded his phone 2x just so he could have the extra storage to save all your photos

a lot of them are blackmail worthy, which is the reason for saving them half the time

Yoongi Is a champ when you get drunk

will hold your hair back

lets you spit your gum out into his bare fucking hand before u hurl and will not flinch 

rejects all of your lewd propositions, but may record you and play back your whiny drunk voice the next morning to make you reconsider taking shots next time (PS u dont ever reconsider)

he likes home dates too, obvi

usually you schedule naps at his place because everything about his bedroom is better than yours

mattress is huge and the perfect firmness

sheets are higher thread-count 

can sleep with his hand up your shirt all he wants because he doesn’t have any roommates at his own place

pillows are always cool to the touch BUT

he might schedule dates at your place if he’s been away and just wants to bury himself in your smell. Speaking of...

...Yoongo is a smeller

he is always smelling you, loves how you smell

He smells your hair while zoning out waiting for his americano to come out when ur at a cafe

He’ll wrap himself around you from behind and sniff your neck idly while he plays candy crush on your belly while u try to cook dinner

Nicknames vary on his mood/your behavior

brat - for when you’re being a brat duh

kid - default, all purpose and a little mocking

your last name when he’s feeling rowdy

your first name when he’s emotional

Jung Hoseok

Hobi always runs full force at u when he sees you even if you’ve been in each other’s faces all week

Whenever he’s bored and you’re nearby he’ll moonwalk around you

You love to watch him practice but you also hate it because if you make eye contact he’ll come over and try to pull you in to teach you

He’s tried to teach you to dance dozens of times and you never get any of his choreo

usually it ends in him maneuvering you into a slow 2 step

which then always becomes a tiny makeout session

but honestly so many other random activities you do together turn into makeout sessions because tbh hob is a bit of a greaseball

this means that half the time you’re ignoring him pawing at u and making cheesy jokes during inopportune times 

the other half of the time ur dragging him by the collar and looking for an empty room to take him into because u dig him and his cheesy horndog antics

He’s also lowkey highkey a dudebro

crowds you because he wants to chest bump and ur like “-.- again?”

kept trying to get your secret couple greeting to be that little surfer hand thingie he does with tae sometimes and u said no because neither of u are 8 anymore

likes spontaneous dates, so usually you’ll text him wyd and if he’s free he’ll just answer ‘coming to get u now’ and then you sigh and slip on your shoes and wonder when you’ll be able to have a date where its not 10:30 at night and you’re not wearing sweats and ur not going out just to go eat some chicken by the Han

You utilize all your privileges that you have dating him to visit Mickey

any time there is a break in the guys’ scheduling you say you want to visit mickey

He lowkey hates those days because you just lie on the floor next to mickey and eat the snacks his mom puts out and COMPLETELY ignore him

u and his sister take turns petting mickey and telling embarrassing stories about hob while he sulks in the corner

he gets revenge by taking 20 pics of ur back and doodling horns on ur head and spamming u with them

Probably would call you a bunch of weird things as a pet name

ducky, peaches, cutie, hotpot, captain etc.

sometimes calls you sweet thang but only when its after dark and he’s trying to make moves

Hobi is the type to always want idle touch but its not exclusively sexy u kno?

if you’re watching tv together he’ll have an arm slung over you

if you’re out to dinner, he gravitates towards booths so he can press his shoulder against yours

if you’re chilling in bed you HAVE to be rubbing his arm or else he’ll give you the most ridiculous pout [its so cute tho :’C ]

Thinks you’re the funniest person alive, is always laughing at stuff you said whether if was supposed to be a joke or not

which means he does that deep hiccuping giggle all the time and you just :’))))))

He’s so patient and let’s you test out all your new skin care products on him because he likes having your hands on his face and the way you talk softly half to him, half to yourself while you talk about what you’re doing

maybe its ASMR lmao

Kim Namjoon

The first thought you had after you started dating was that you could touch his dimples any time you wanted

so naturally you do

he has long since gotten used to you just touching them while he’s driving, reading, listening to music, just existing

the first time you did it he was just talking to you about something and when he felt your finger nudge his dimple 

Joon: “I feel like if we visited in the spring we could go frog catching and maybe then we could-----*you jam your finger into his dimple*

You: and? what were you saying?

Joon: uhhhh I forgot :0

a fan of couple outfits but not in the same sense Jin. its more like he likes to plan your outfits

he gets really excited when he thinks of something you would look good in and always gets really bashful right before he shows it to you because he wants you to like it

he has great taste and is very observant of u and ur style so there has never been a time where he has planned an outfit for u and u looked less than amazing

same for photos, he takes really good artsy photos of you all the time

thats what 80% of dates with him are

walking through the city at night so he can take a picture of you with the city scape behind you

or going to those instagram-able cafes in the city during their slow hours so he can pictures of your coffees and you sitting next to a pastel neon sign that says like Love Hurts or something edgy like that

taking photos like that one girl and her bf who travel alot on ig, u know the one

but u never actually manage to get a good shot like that because ur always like ‘joon my arm hurts why dont u be the girl’

He’s in general big on googling popular activities and getaways and making a big deal of documenting it 

as a result: he’s been working on a scrapbook and he thinks you don’t know but you and all 6 other members and even Bang PD know about the scrapbook

he gives it to you on your anniversary and even though youre expecting it, you cry

he takes photos of that too and it goes in the one for next yr lol

He calls you baby of course

but not in an exaggerated/pronounced way

it comes out super naturally and he says it more than he says your actual name

u better Get used to just turning around and catching him giving you that one soft smile he does with his whole face 

“is there something on my face?” 

“no, just enjoying the view <3”

Always wants to make your plate when u visit his home, and always ALWAYS gives you too much food

going there and realizing that maybe its a family thing as you watch his mom heftily scoop vegetables onto his dad’s plate while his dad looks on in worry about where he’s going to fit it

Using Joon’s lap as a pillow!!!

he can read and stroke your head while you snooze

him humming off key because he thinks it helps you sleep

Park Jimin

Before you started dating, Jimin seemed like the guy that everyone loves because he’s effortlessly cool and charming

And he is even after you start dating BUT

He is also a little praise monster and lives for your compliments

Jimin takes advantage of the fact that you are obviously enamored with him and will do things to fluster you on purpose

runs his hands through his hair because he knows you can’t look away

gets unnecessarily close to tell you things because he knows you get goosebumps when he whispers in your ear

plays chicken with you all the time

slow looks at u until u squirm

HE’s a menace

but also reminds you of a bumblebee

Jimin loves to go to see the latest comedy movies and those are always fun

Not because the movies are actually that funny (lowkey he has really bad taste in comedy movies), but because he will LOSE IT in the middle of the theatre and end up slumped over the armrest just laughing his head off

Cue the high squeaky laugh where he can’t even see the movie screen anymore because his eyes are squeezed shut :3

After the movie he always tries to retell funny scenes like

“And then *laughs* did you see the part where the guy *laughs* *laughs more* and then he *dolphin noises*

“Yeah, Minnie it was funny”

He always wants you to come to the gym with him because he gets an unnecessary amount of motivation from those gym couple accounts on instagram

You go in your big t-shirt and shorts and he goes in a similar outfit 

It always ends up with u watching him because again he looks good when he lifts weights and does squats

he likes the attention too 

Calls u cutie

but thinks its funny to sometimes address u as his favorite anime villian’s name ur always like hmm time to go now

He’s a feeder kinda like joon

YOu can’t ever eat anything by yourself, he always wants to cut things for you, spoon feed you 

he’s very caring

This means he also is super attentive when ur sick and will bring u soup and play cards in bed and always refresh ur water and bother u about taking medicine

Kim Taehyung

Everything with Taehyung is beautiful and u feel beautiful with him which is so amazing and crazy at the same time

He is a big cheerleader for u he loves everything u do

You made a badly folded origami and he shouted cute and was so genuine and got it laminated somehow and keeps it as a keychain accessory

He’s always showing you things

like some of his favorite classical art pieces that he’s saved pictures of on his phone

sometimes he tells you about how he can’t wait to plan the perfect trip to europe with u so u can visit some of his favorite pieces face to face

Always showing u his new (and old) favorite songs and movies

some of ur dates are going to see old films or foreign films at this one really hip theatre in the city

he bought a gramophone a little while back before u started dating and he loves to play records for you and lie with you on the floor and show u  the best parts of the song with his hands in the air

He has a fancy camera too that he uses to document “special moments”

when u asked him how come he always uses it to take picture of u then he was like everything with u is special and u had to tackle him and cover his whole face in kisses because he cant just say things like that without facing the consequences

He keeps a journal where he doodles in the margins and writes songs and poems that only some people have seen like yoongi or jimin

he tried to draw you once and it came out looking a little strange but he’s still learning and u love him for it

He also gets soo sooo excited when you show him your favorite things

u dont do it as much because they dont seem as cultured or pretty but u show him a movie from ur childhood that u still watch once or twice a year and his eyes were huge the whole time and he was so glad to watch it with you

Calls u Jagi because he likes what it means and its truly accurate

U guys are just on the same wavelength and he really appreciates that u dont find him weird or quirky or overly pretentious even

u finish each others sentences and can predict moods pretty well its a little scary for the guys to watch u talk to each other in half sentences and know what the other means

When u first met, it was through Joon because he thought u guys would click and he was super nervous and worried because a lot of ppl don’t really GET him

Maybe at ur blind date a song came on in the restuarant u were in and it was a song he really liked

and then u were really shyly like “it feels like when you find a really special spot in the woods that nobody knows about” and hes like

“yeah, it really does” and then goes home and writes ur name 20 times in his notebook before getting the courage to call u about a 2nd date

Jeon Jungkook

You already know what it is with this kid: MEME CENTRAL

seriously ur texts are like 80% reaction pictures you downloaded off the internet that just get cycled over and over again because they’ve started to replace certain common phrases and emotions

Yoongi tried to jack JKs phone once and read the messages out loud to the members to try and embarrass him and he actually couldn’t read the last 24 hours of messages because it was literally all pictures/emojis

JK thinks ur laugh is the best sound he’s ever heard and is always trying to bring it out

he makes so many weird faces

those also become memes in the chat

he does so many exaggerated moves from choreo just to get u to crack up

does random weird things with his voice at inappropriate times to get u to choke

Like Jimin he is a praise monster

he wants u to think he’s impressive because he thinks ur very accomplished and cool and he’s still very much the young shy boy he was before joining the band.

Does flips because he knows u love it and won’t leave u alone until u confirm that u are in fact watching

JK: “Hey, hey, watch this LOOK are u looking?”

YOU: “Yes oh my god what?”

JK:*Does a backflip*

YOU:.........DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDEEE WTF ITS LIT IN HERE

JK: *internally* i can die now

Get ready for some next level cuteness OMG

the little nose scrunch will become the most frequent thing

u will be ruffling his hair and it’ll tickle so he’ll scrunch his nose and u’ll just explode its amazing

The BABY SMILE every time its been a while since you’ve seen each other

You’ll practically tackle him and he loves it and spins u around a little too fast

Those big sparkly eyes that he has?????

prepare for those when its his night to cook but he doesn’t feel like it and says he wants to order pizza for the billionth time

You can’t say no to him ever

gaming is not your thing but he will rope you into a 3 hour Fortnight tutorial because u love him

Not really big on pet names, or like any names for that matter

but he will use your actual name for when he wants ur undivided attention

Is scared that you think he’s immature so sometimes he’ll try to go a day without making a joke and then its ur job to try your hardest to crack him up

this is good because ultimately u also love his high pitched loud laugh 

[harbingham]

                   Harry took one look at the survey && rolled his eyes. What a waste of fucking time. As if they were all going to BOND because a survey supposedly confirmed they could be  f r i e n d s  . Or at the very least good roommates ?? Whatever. Harry quickly wrote his name, crossing out the rest of the questions with EASE. Besides, they knew who he was already.

          Instead, cursive letters inked the paper — If you put me with someone annoying, I’ll make sure the trip is absolute hell. Ending the sentence with a thick period, annoyance festering as it usually did with life’s POINTLESS trifles.

                    The usual smug smirk dipped over his lips, carelessly turning the questionnaire in without a second thought.

so yeahhh, because my son is the way he is ... i filled it out for him bless up. why do i love harry bingham when i fucking hate him ?? idk fam, idk.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Harold Theodore Bingham PRONUNCIATION: H EH - r uh l d   th EE - uh - d aw r    b IH  ng-uh m   MEANING: estate ruler  /  army leader  REASONING: Harold was his great-grandfather’s name, while Theodore is is father’s name that’s been passed down for quite a while as either a first/middle kinda deal NICKNAME(S): Harry, Har ( though he doesn't like it  ) Bingham, Pretty Boy PREFERRED NAME(S): Harry, just Harry unless you want a punch or a mean remark bless BIRTH DATE: April 13th, 2001 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: Aries !! GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: He/Him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual NATIONALITY: American ETHNICITY: wonder bread

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: West Ham, CT HOMETOWN: West Ham, CT SOCIAL CLASS: Upper/Close to the 1% FATHER: Theodore Bingham † MOTHER: Karen Bingham SIBLING(S): Stacy Bingham ( 12 ) BIRTH ORDER: Harry, Stacy PET(S): In the Bingham household ?? Never. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: He’s surrounded by family, they usually always have at least two reunions a year. However he’s never felt close to them ?? So he’d never list their names here really. He’s only somewhat close to his immediate family. Though, he was close to his nanny growing up if that counts bless PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: it’s a list of like ... relatively short lasting relationships, hookups, && one night stands, until his most recent, kelly, which is probably his longest lasting one ?? ARRESTS?: Technically, on record, none :). He’s definitely been caught like, trespassing, underage drinking, && drunk driving lbh ... but yeah, no record. i hate him. PRISON TIME?: N/A

OCCUPATION & INCOME

SOURCE OF INCOME: intern at parent’s company  /  his parents CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: he doesn’t really like it tbh, but it’s done his family well so after college he definitely plans to continue the legacy && make if flourish even more. PAST JOB(S): n/a SPENDING HABITS: *throws money in trash can* MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: the gold ring with the bingham family insignia his father gave him when he turned 13 ( made him feel like he finally belonged you feel )  though he’d tell you it’s everything he owns ... i hate him

SKILLS & ABILITIES

TALENTS: bringing people together ( or apart ), lightening the mood ( or you know, fucking it up too ), banter, racing, fixing cars SHORTCOMINGS: oh honey — saying shit he doesn’t mean, his own arrogance, addictive personality, emotional invulnerability, aloof nature, shall i continue ?? LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, French, Italian DRIVE?: Hell yeah JUMP-STAR A CAR?: Yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: Yes, but he’d rather pay someone to do it before ever doing it himself RIDE A BICYCLE?: nope catch me crying SWIM?: Yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: Does learning the recorder in 3rd grade count ?? PLAY CHESS?: Yes BRAID HAIR?: Yes ( Stacy made him learn since he was the only one home most of the time ) TIE A TIE?: Yes, his father practically taught him that in the womb. PICK A LOCK?: nah. he’s more into the jump the fence, break some glass, make a fucking scene, kinda trespassing

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Alex Fitzalan EYE COLOR: dark brown, specks of gold in natural light HAIR COLOR: Chestnut Brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Curly && wavy, his hair texture kinda varies by each strand unless he properly styles it ... which he does when feeling okay GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No, but he definitely likes the aesthetic of glasses sometimes. Like bet money on his ivy interviews he wore glasses ... did i mention i hate harry bingham ?? DOMINANT HAND: Right HEIGHT: 5′10″ WEIGHT: 140/150ish lbs ??? BUILD: Slender Muscular EXERCISE HABITS: it’s rather irregular and depends heavily on his mood. if he’s in a good/okay mood then a few times a week. otherwise it’s hard to do much of anything, let alone work out you know. SKIN TONE: light with pink/tan undertones TATTOOS: none PIERCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: small dark birth mark near his right, outer ankle. shoulders/back && cheeks tend to get rather freckly in the summer && he hates it. some random cuts && bruises from blacked out drunk/high escapades, the occasional hickey bye. NOTABLE FEATURES: dimples when he actually smiles, white af teeth, the hair™ USUAL EXPRESSION: either completely unamused or smirking tbh CLOTHING STYLE: designer, preppy — think polos, ironed pants, or cuffed skinny jeans, all paired with some boat shoes. sometimes when he’s not feeling so great he’ll wear a plain tee/hoodie JEWELRY: gold pinky ring ( mentioned above ), apple watch on occasion ALLERGIES: long haired cats BODY TEMPERATURE: runs hot 😏 DIET: no such thing, boy’s metabolism is fast, the lucky son of a bitch. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A

PSYCHOLOGY

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral TEMPERAMENT: Choleric  /  Melancholic ELEMENT: Fire MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: Anxiety, Depression, Toxic Masculinity 👀 SOCIABILITY: Moody™, but very social. Popular™. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: um ... he tries ?? it’s not good though, nope. PHOBIA(S): autophobia ( fear of being alone ),  atychiphobia ( fear of failure ) ADDICTION(S): coffee, opiods, alcohol, etc DRUG USE: yes please ALCOHOL USE: yes please PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if provoked yes, or if he feels the need to protect/stand against something.

MANNERISMS

QUIRKS: easily annoyed, rolls his eyes a lot, has a comeback for almost everything ( even if it’s just a fuck you ) HOBBIES: cars, racing, sailing ( learned from his dad ),  HABITS: drinking, swearing, pills, drinks coffee every morning NERVOUS TICKS: furrowed brows, pacing/unable to stand still, hand twitching, squinting eyes DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Money, Perfectionism, doing the Bingham name justice FEARS: Being forgotten, Isolation, Losing the rest of his family/the few he cares about, Death, Fatal Illness POSITIVE TRAITS: Charming, Adventurous, Witty, Ambitious, Assertive, Protective NEGATIVE TRAITS: Moody, Enigmatic, Cocky, Prideful, Destructive, Sarcastic, Stubborn, Impatient SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcastic, dark DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: he fucking literally fucking says fuck every fucking other fucking word :D CATCHPHRASE(S): fuck you cassandra, fuck off, fuck you, fuck me, fuck that, we’re playing fugitive tonight

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: Racing  /  Sailing ANIMAL: Otters BEVERAGE: any && all alcohol™ ... or secretly strawberry hi-c don’t @ him. BOOK: never let me go by kazuo ishiguro CELEBRITY: Margot Robbie COLOR: Navy Blue && Dark Gray DESIGNER: Balenciaga && Ralph Lauren FOOD: loaded fries FLOWER: blue stars GEM: Sapphire/Diamond HOLIDAY: halloween MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: he has a lot of favorite cars, but his black maserati ( aka the fugitive car ) is probably his favorite. he also likes helicopters MOVIE: Fight Club, The Wolf on Wall Street, The Breakfast Club MUSICAL ARTIST: blackbear, Drake are two of his go-tos, though the list is long QUOTE/SAYING: “Just do it.” boy bye SCENERY: nothing like overlooking a long wooden dock into a bright blue lake surrounded by trees  SCENT: cedar, sandalwood — anything kinda woody/musky ?? bless. SPORT: golf SPORTS TEAM: his father always rooted for the yankees, so he roots for the yankees TELEVISION SHOW: Mad Men WEATHER: cloudy with just a bit of sun peaking through, bright blue sky — not too hot, not too cold. VACATION DESTINATION: anywhere near a body of water, though he’s particularly fond of lake como in italy cause there’s a bit of everything ?? mountains, the lake, beautiful architecture, etc :’)

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: living that ‘american dream’ baby GREATEST FEAR: peaking in high school, being forgotten/not wanted (yet you push people away boii water u doing ?!), being vulnerable ... again there’s a long fucking list MOST AT EASE WHEN: in a fast car, living that reckless™ lifestyle LEAST AT EASE WHEN: realizing what a dumbass he is && having to apologize for it BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: getting into brown && columbia off some actual merit && not just money wow BIGGEST REGRET: not really being there for his dad near the end bc that would mean being vulnerable && saying goodbye coming on this fucking trip MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: losing the student body president position to cassandra BIGGEST SECRET: which one you want honey ?? TOP PRIORITIES: for everything to stay the same  /  go back to the way it was  :) :( :) :(

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #176

rape tw

Do you like to have croutons in your salad? Noooonononono. It's a texture thing. Which do you find more irritating - sunburn or bug bites? Sunburn. How many friends do you have on Facebook? Like... 116? How many contacts do you have in your phone? 16. Do you carry any means of protection on you while out in public? No, but I wanna get pepper spray. Would you ever pick up a hitchhiker? No, I'm too paranoid of strangers. Do you know anyone who does cocaine? Not to my knowledge. What is something that most people wouldn’t know about you from simply looking at you? I used to be a super in-shape 117 lb. queen that even then felt slightly fat. :') What’s a quality that your sister has that you absolutely can’t stand? One has a serious temper, the other's... well I dunno. I don't see my older sis enough. Have you ever been to a bachelor or bachelorette party? No. Something you would NEVER buy? Uhhh the first thing that came to my head are snakes that aren't directly from breeders. Both snakes I bought from PetSmart were sick, so. No thanks. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Yeah. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No, deal breaker for me. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes, Nicole. Do you think your first love still loves you? No, but the feeling's mutual so np. Are you a money saver or spender? I've never had a consistent source of income, but when I do get some from gifts or photography, I've actually proven to be great at saving it for whatever my target is. Hopefully I stay that way when I do have a job. Has a member of the opposite sex ever seen you naked? Yes. Have you ever had to sell something for a school fundraiser? Yup. If you have any piercings, who did them? Claire's did my earlobes, then various people from Garry's Skin Grafix and mostly New Addiction did my piercings. Have you ever cried while watching a movie trailer? No. Have you ever been pulled over, but just let off with a warning? Never been pulled. Have you ever taken shots? (of alcohol) Noooo, been offered to take part I think twice, but it's not something I think I ever want to do considering I loathe the taste of alcohol, hence why I only ever drink fruity things with tiny amounts of alcohol. Do you like mash-up songs? Occasionally, I guess? None even come to mind. Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness? No, because I have a plethora of my own and don't want to put a child under the supervision of someone with conditions like mine; as well, I'm sorry, but I need to take care of myself. Took me damn long enough to get here, and I'm not going back to how horrible my life was before out of stress and having to handle a child with a severe mental illness. And oh, did I mention the main reason is because I don't in any capacity want kids? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yeah. Do you listen to classical music? Not intentionally. Do you tell your parents who you like? Why or why not? No. I'll admit I like someone if they ask, but otherwise I just don't see it necessary to walk up to your guardian and just randomly inform them that you have a crush. Are you due for a haircut? Getting there, maybe almost two months from now. Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? My OCD's been exceptionally bad lately. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Both like certain artists that I do - a lot, really. I do know I also like heavier stuff than them, though. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all. Who’s the most annoying person in your neighborhood? Don't live in one. Name one of your psycho exes? None. I was honestly the psycho ex. I was very rightfully broken, but I shouldn't have done many things I did. Why were they a psycho ex? ^ I wouldn't leave him the hell alone and would pester him on Facebook too much even when I was ignored and, most regrettably, make just enough time to blame him for my ER visits before leaving until he finally blocked me. I sincerely don't blame him if he does consider me "the psycho ex." What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don't care in the slightest about revenge to even think up a situation where I got any. I've never deliberately fished for it. What screen name did you use in 6th grade? FlowerOurQueen ew. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks? ih crihmus What’s the last movie you saw? Halloween. Who was the last person to call you? This fucking car insurance agency that calls like every goddamn day. I've answered a couple times thinking that it could be VR and promptly hung up upon finding it wasn't. By now, I recognize the three digits after the area code to just ignore them. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? VR. Where is your least favorite place to be? Hospitals. Where is your favorite place to be? Sara's house. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman? lol no, grow up, 0-19-y/o me denying your own sexuality in fear of a "loving" god sending you to Hell. :^) Would you like to learn to play the drums? Nah. Is there anybody you just wish would fall off the planet? Types of people. Name one thing you worry about running out of. Motivation to live, again. Do you post to say happy birthday on other people’s walls? Sometimes. Always with close friends. Have there ever been floods where you live? Oh yeah. Do you listen to K-Pop? No. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Ummm idr, but not very long ago. Sunshower. What’s your favorite television commercial? I don't watch TV anymore, so I don't know any current ones. But it will probably /always/ be the sexy Mr. Clean one because memories fuck me up. Have you ever tried writing a song? Yes. For one of the Nintendogs tracks. I even moved their heads around to the tune of the song. kms What is your favorite type of juice? Peach/mango. Whose birthday did you last celebrate? My nephew's. When you were a kid, did you have a treehouse? No. We didn't have trees built for that, just very tall pine trees. What was the best school year in your opinion? 7th grade; ironically, the year my depression began to seriously manifest. Do you know (of) anyone who has committed suicide? Sadly. When was the last time you flew on a plane? This past October. Take me back. Do you eat meat every day? No. Who taught you how to ride a bike? Dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? No. How do you cook your rice? Steam, boil, other? I don't cook. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Nope. Some of his policies I side with, but his personality absolutely destroys him for me. Do you wear skirts? No. I absolutely hate my legs. What color is your house? Like this khaki sorta color. How many first cousins do you have? I have zero clue. I don't even think I've met some first ones. Off the very top of my head, I know there's at least... nine? Have you ever seen a pop star in concert? No. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, not a fan of most. It doesn't put me in the "Christmas spirit" anyway. Where would you like to vacation to? The Bahamas baby, Sweden, Japan... What time do you set your alarm to? I don't use mine. Nothing to use it for. Do you like ginger ale? No, unless my stomach is upset. What time does the sun set at the time of year where you live? Like 5, and I hate it. Have you ever been skiing? No. When was the last time you moved house? Feb. of last year. What did you last feel nervous about? How in god's name am I blanking here??????????? Over something incredibly trivial, I'm sure. Do you find yourself saying mean things to people over the internet that you wouldn’t say in real life? No. Who is the last person to text you? Sara. Does the person you like know it? HAHA she's got a pretty good idea. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Jason or Girt. Girt came to the hospital after hearing about my OD, so my mental state was obviously shit, but Jason saw me in more obvious, externally-expressed emotional breakdowns. Did you have a nap today? Yes. I've been waking up much too early lately. What was the last movie you saw that you really liked? Really liked? Probs Jumanji. Do your best friends live near you? Ha, no. Do you have any stuffed animals saved from when you were a child? A LOT. When is the next time you are traveling outside of the state, province, or country? Where to? I'm sure sometime next year to Sara's. What are your living arrangements currently? Are you happy with them? I live with just my mom and pets. It's fine, though I wish I was emotionally prepared to move out. Hell, and obviously financially. Have you ever had feelings for someone your best friend was dating? N- oh yeah yes, in the Jenna situation. Though I don't truly recall what *kind* of feelings exactly I had. Is there anything written on the shirt you’re wearing? No, surprisingly. How was your first kiss? Super cute. Do you still talk to the person you shared it with? No. Are you the oldest of your siblings? No. Have you ever dated someone who had kids? No; that's a deal-breaker for me. I am not being a mother figure to any child, especially when it's not my own. Have you kissed someone 4 or more years older than you? No. Were your parents married when you were born? Yeah. Does the last person you kissed have tattoos? No. Do you live within 20 miles of where you were born? Yeah. What is your opinions on Valentine's Day? Cheesetastic, is it not? No no no no no I LOVE it!!!! I can't stand that "ugh every day you should appreciate love" shit 'cuz like, why not have a day specifically wrapped around it? Is it hurting anyone in any way shape or form?? What is the last thing you wrote? (typing is not writing, btw) My signature, probably? Do you have an outfit that you consider your "seduction outfit"? lul no. What is the last fruit you have eaten? Uhhh good question. I'm only just back on solids. What was the last injection you received? Was it sore? At the dentist when I had to get a cavity filled. They had to give me no less than 6-7 shots in the same spot to numb me properly, so yeah, it was sore. Have you ever been badly bitten by an animal? No. Favorite sandwich? I'll never turn down a ham, cheese, and mustard one. What characteristics do you despise? Arrogance, manipulative, lack of compassion, anger, two-faced, entirely insensitive, rudeness, raunchiness, the inability to accept one is sometimes wrong and that that's okay, BEING A DRAMA NEST HINT HINT, and I could go on... Where would you retire to? The mountains. What was your most memorable birthday? My 21st. Supposed to be your greatest celebration, yet I was in the mental hospital. It still means the goddamn world to me how my peers and employees tried to make it special. What did you want to be when you were little? First an archaeologist, then a vet. I think I only changed my mind upon realizing the original would've been extremely difficult. Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday? No. Would you rather have some bacon or beef jerky? Bacon. I'm actually not a big fan of the latter, it's too dry and tough. Did the Spanish classes have an “El Dia de Los Muertos” (Day of the Dead) fiesta at school? I don't know, I didn't take Spanish. What’s the most number of comments you have on a Facebook picture? What is the picture of? I have zero clue. Do you like coconut flavored things? nooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I really don't like coconuts. Have you ever met a famous author before? No. Do you know anybody who has been raped before? I don't believe so? I know many who've been violated or molested, but I don't believe I know a rape victim. How often do you get a fever? Like never. What makes you lose your appetite? Unappetizing scenes or smells and feeling/being sick. Are there any childhood habits you are grateful for or regret? I was taught good manners, for one. I wish chores had been more enforced upon all of us. At what age did you start to wear makeup? Did your mom object at first? I think 9th grade was when I "officially" started? It was freshman year and I had that "it's a new start and you're (this old) now, at least try to look pretty for once" mentality with how my self esteem was on the decline. I did it every day for a long time, until one day I didn't put on anything because I was tired of it and my art classmates (I was close to them) literally asked if I was okay lmao. From then on out, it was sporadic; eyeliner, shadow, and mascara some days, other days, nothing. But anyway no, Mom didn't have a problem. I think I recall her worrying about how it was all black, but she in no way objected. Would you consider yourself an adventurous person? This reeaally depends on the situation. I can't say which I lean more towards... maybe no? Have you ever snuggled with someone you weren’t dating? No. Have you ever been afraid of being underwater? No. Have you ever been drunk at work? No. What band/group have the most lyrics that represent you? I dunno. One thing you really want to learn? Digital art. What is your favorite piece of art you own? I don't own any other than my own work. The most expensive bill I paid last month was ____? N/A What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? @ the Silent Hill wiki, I wasn't understanding why a certain member was giving particular information that appeared irrelevant to me, but he got me to understand. I am extreeemely nit-picky over there, having been active there since '12, and now being a staff member, I'm even more specific. What is the largest TV screen in your house? We only have one, in the living room, but it's been the biggest. What has challenged your morals? Wondering if I was bi in middle school, frustration when I was trying to be abstinent in a serious relationship, pirating (which I still know is wrong asjfawouow), mutually being a flirt with my then-best friend's boyfriend, considering abortion at a much more open-minded angle, the justification of eating meat, my experience in life in relation to religion... Those are the ones that stand out. Who was the last female you hung out with? Mom. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? No. Do you want to get married? Yes. Does the thought of moving out from home scare you? A bit. Would you rather live in a mansion or a small cozy home? The latter. I'm not paying for superfluous space and spending a gross amount of unnecessary time cleaning. Would you ever try being a vegetarian? I did, but stopped for a few reasons. Do you have any tattoos at the moment? Yeah and NOWHERE NEAR DONE. What about piercings? ^ Do you keep your eyebrows more thick or thin? Natural. What color is your bedroom door? White. Do your shoulder blades protrude? No, give them back to me. Have you ever been to a rave? No. How many bananas have you ever eaten in a row? Two? Do you think you’re the best thing that’s happened to someone? No. Can you make a clover shape with your tongue? No. Do you have a protective father? No. What’s the biggest misconception about you, personally? Uhhh probably that I don't try hard enough, specifically with work, adulthood, socializing, etc. when I'm sincerely doing my best. Are you disrespectful to a lot of people? No. Does your cell phone have a case on it? What color? No. What was the last song you had on repeat? "Family" by Mother Mother. Your most recent ex says he/she hates you, you say? That'd hurt like hell; he's like a bro to me and is the last close friend I have here. I don't know what I'd say. If someone you wanted before came back now, would you take them? Nope. Have you ever had to choose between two people? Sara and Girt. Jason and Juan. If you were to attend a costume party tonight, what or whom would you go as? Good question. What are your choice of toppings on a hamburger? And do you prefer gas or charcoal grilling? Cheese, mustard, ketcup, pickles, a little bit of minced onion. Idk which I prefer. Everyone hears discussions that they consider boring. What topic can put you to sleep quicker than any other? Economics. How many times did it take you to pass your drivers test? N/A What is your highest level of education? Some college. What kind of lunch box did you have as a kid? Idr. Would you rather be trapped in an elevator, or stuck in traffic? Traffic. I'm afraid of elevators. The last thing you remember dreaming about: Everyone I loved left me, so I tried to suffocate myself. Why do I only recall nightmares, ugh. The last place you went: The parlor to get a new bar for my tongue ring. The last alcoholic drink you consumed: A margarita. The last time you felt insulted/offended: I'm unsure. But I feel it was recently? The last time you kissed someone: October 17th weeps. The last time you held a baby: Months ago when Colleen needed me to hold Keegan. The last time you gave up on or quit something: Vegetarianism. The last video game you played: I finally got a new disc of Shadow of the Colossus!!!!! :'D I'm replaying it and doing both Time Attack modes to get Agro's white coat. The last television show you watched: Fullmetal Alchemist w/ Sara. Are you afraid of shots? No, I just anticipate it being unpleasant. How many times have you donated blood? Once. Would you date someone 15 years older than you? No. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? An awful stomach virus. I wouldn't stop vomiting. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? I couldn't tell ya. Something in high school. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? I hate it. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? I personally think Outlast is overall the scariest game made thus far, but one I can't play because of the intense jumpscares is SCP Containment Breach. What about your life concerns you the most? Future financial position. If you were a different gender, what name would you want to have? Ummm Severin. What product or service do you find ridiculously overpriced? Certain clothing and makeup brands, like half the shit doesn't even look that great. How many people, outside of your immediate family, do you know the birthdays of by heart? At least six. Would you rather take a walk in the cold rain, or in the blistering heat? Definitely the former. If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being aware of any of effects and/or consequences, would you do it? No. Do you trust your gut instinct? I try to, but don't always. Which parent was more strict when you were growing up? Mom. What are some things that initially attract you to the preferred sex? CHARISMA, kindness, concern for others, a love of animals, and being a gamer oops. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? The breakup and eventual suicide attempt are definitely the saddest. The happiest, easily the last day of Holly Hill when everyone was telling me goodbye and I felt like I was ready to really live again. When was the last time someone scared you? Sara had me worried something was wrong involving me, but it wasn't. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Silent Hill 3 is so fucking weird but also one of the best horror games ever. Name something that you saw within the past week that made you smile: Probably Teddy being cute. Name something within the past week that made you frown: I don't think I have physically frowned this week. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: My mom. Name something that you hope is different by this time next year: My social anxiety has improved. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: Um I have no clue. Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: Drawing anthro characters. Name something that you strongly believe in: Gay rights. Do you like pudding? Chocolate pudding. Do you tend to use a lot of big words? No, it's unnecessary. Just talk so people can understand you and not wonder what five words you said mean. Do you fall for guys/girls easily? NOPE. When someone copies you, are you more flattered or annoyed? Annoyed. Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda? Stale chips. Flat soda doesn't bother me very much. What’s one show that you wish was still on the air? Deadman Wonderland. Have you ever used a port-a-potty? Omg yeah I know I have at sports practice or games as a kid. I absolutely never would again. What was the last stinky thing you smelled? Teddy's pee; he wet his diaper, and we know he has some kind of infection with how rancid it is sometimes, but we don't even bother anymore because it's recurring. What’s your favorite outdoor activity? Photographing nature.

[thepilotanon]

springbeauty xi

{masterlist}

Just a few more chapters and we’re all done! Thank you to everyone who left sweet messages and liked/reblogged last chapter, and I hope you all know how much I really appreciate you guys. It really does mean a lot to me, so I hope you’ll let me know what you think of this chapter, too, that tells more of the character you get to play! Thank you and enjoy!

warning: none!

Five years prior...

The burial lasted for an hour and the sun was shining in the cemetery as she watched the casket being lowered to rest beside its match. It was warm and the breeze was cool, yet there was nothing but fog and rain clouds inside her heart and mind as she whispered one last goodbye to the man who raised her since the day she was born and left behind by both of her parents. Holding the small bundle of arranged flowers in her hands, she waited until the pastor gave her permission to toss it down the earthy chute to her grandfather’s casket.

Daisies that grew in the backyard and being taught by the same man how to make flower bracelets and flower crowns, she made sure to grab three to symbolize what spring and summer days where like with the three of them. Carnations for the symbolism of pride of having him as her caretaker and provider when no one else would, and daffodils to show how strong he was up until his last breath while holding her hand…

Now back in the large house that once filled with old rock and roll music, smelling like chocolate chip cookies and her grandfather singing off tune, Belle stood with a lost expression with her glass of her grandfather’s favorite whiskey in her hands as the wake reception continued on around her. People chatting and quietly enjoying the listed food left in the dead’s favor, Belle felt her heart sink low at the realization that the three-story, six bedroom and four baths house with a pool was going be very empty once everyone left.

It hurt.

“Hey, my lil Rosabelle,” a familiar voice emerged behind her, pulling out of her negative thoughts as she turned around. Joe Bang wore a black button up and his best dress pants, which she was more than grateful for when he got permission to visit from his parole officer to attend the funeral out of West Virginia for the funeral and wake. Having just been released from prison, part of it felt ironic to be invited to a funeral of someone he was somewhat adopted by and accepted to be a uncle-figure to his only granddaughter.

“Hi, Uncle Joe,” Belle said very softly, almost exhausted. Being brought into a famous Joe Bang hug and being rocked side-to-side, just like every time they reunited for holidays and birthdays, Belle let out a tired breath of relief. She didn’t hesitate to snuggle her face into his shoulder, uncaring of her carefully applied eye makeup. Belle hasn’t cried since the elderly man’s passing despite other people’s encouragement. “I’m really happy you could make it over in time, I don’t think I could have gone through it all without you coming…”

“Not even that fatass parole officer could keep me from seein’ my favorite girlie,” Joe scoffed as he rubbed his rough hands up and down her clothed back of her black dress and knitted sweater in attempted comfort. “Wish I could’a been here before he left, sweetie. M’sorry, baby, I really wish I was there for ya both.”

“It’s okay,” Belle sighed and Joe Bang pulled back to hold her face carefully. “You were doing your time and we both knew that. Grandpa was just glad that you weren’t causing any ruckus while in Monroe.”

Joe Bang shrugged and rolled his eyes, still waiting for the proper time to tell her what he really had been up to. For now, it was not the time. “I’d break out and run all the way here for ya, lil Rosabelle,” he told her seriously and she gave him a weak smile in return. Seeing her look lost for a moment, Joe frowned and patted her cheeks with his fingertips. “Hey, hey, baby, you alright? Do you wanna go sit down in your room for a bit?”

“No, I’m okay,” Belle sighed sadly. “I’m just not too sure what to do next, you know? With Grandpa gone now and all of this happening, with everyone asking what I’m going to do...is it bad for me to say I got nothing? I have nothing.”

Joe’s face scrunched a bit and held his niece-figure in his arms as she rest her head on his shoulder, almost like when she was a toddler again and Joe Bang used to carry her around this very extravagant house to get her to sleep in time for Santa to visit during Christmas. “If you’re worried about payin’ for all the expenses, I got no problem helpin’ ya pay for everythin’, lil Rosabelle. I got enough money tucked away, okay? I’ll give ya money, jus’ name the price...”

“It’s not that,” Belle whispered back so no one could hear. “They left their fortune to me, Uncle Joe. They took my mom off of it and put everything in my name. I just don’t know what to do here without them anymore…”

He knew what she was referring to about the fortune. As much as simple living her grandfather had lived back in Boone County, he made a name for himself after serving in Vietnam and getting married, it was no question that Belle’s grandparents were rich. Joe never bugged the old man for money, though, even when the news of his arrest and sentence to Monroe reached to Belle and the sickly old man. However, hearing that the now departed had left all the money and inheritance to his greatest treasure, Joe Bang felt a little bit at ease knowing that the sticky fingers of her mother won’t ever get ahold of it. Belle was taken cared of financially, then, and Joe would have one less thing to worry about her states away.

Although, now, seeing that Belle was going to be left alone, it broke Joe Bang’s stubborn heart.

Joe sighed and rubbed her back again. “It’s gonna be alright, lil baby. You know there’s always a place for ya back in your old man’s town, right?”

Belle blinked and looked up to him. “Boone County? In West Virginia?”

“That’s the place,” Joe nodded and stepped back. “If ya ever need a place, Boone County is always open for ya, lil Rosabelle. I know I ain’t the best uncle in the world -”

“You’re the best uncle I could ever ask for,” Belle corrected him sternly, a cute pout on her lips that made him grin and snicker before continuing.

“But I know your gramps would want ya to do whatever ya need to, jus’ remember that. I know ya grew up here in Colorado n’ all that fancy junk, but I remember ya tellin’ me and yer old gramps and his lady how you couldn’t wait to spend the summer in Boone County. It ain’t ever too late, honey,” Joe told her while looking into her eyes. “Remember that, sweetie.”

Belle took a deep breath. “I really wish they would let you stay longer, Uncle Joe. It’s not really fair that you have to head back home tonight…”

“Believe me, as much as I love using yer fancy toilet and jacuzzi tub, I don’t wanna spend any more time incarcerated than I already have done,” Joe shook his head before grabbing Belle’s head gently and giving the top of her head a firm kiss. “I’ll call ya when I get home to check up on ya, alright? Sam and Fish are available at any time, if ya need to chat with ‘em at all. Probably will fix ya a helpin’ of their weird prayin’ shit n’ how they’re with the Lord.”

Belle gave him a wet laugh and hugged him tight. “Please be careful, Uncle Joe. Don’t go trying to hit any deer on the way home…”

“No promises, kid!” Joe Bang cackled teasingly before giving Belle a kiss on the cheek to get her smiling. “There’s my lil Rosabelle. Love ya, sweetie. I’ll talk to ya soon!”

Bidding him a goodbye wave and watching him head towards the foyer of the front door, Belle felt herself feel numb on the inside once more. It felt like the last piece of her true happiness was leaving her life again and made her feel empty. Although she couldn’t do anything to prolong his stay - honestly, she had tried over the phone and with emails to extend Joe Bang’s stay at the house - it still didn’t help that he was so far away. Belle remembered how summer was so much fun with her grandfather and Joe Bang and the brothers, how she had a week of nothing but laughter, sunshine and freedom and now it was a memory. A memory fading.

Looking down to her glass of whiskey, Belle downed the drink with the way her grandfather showed her; unlady-like and confident as the burning liquid ran down her throat. Of course, it wasn’t going to even make her buzzed (unless she hogged at least half of the bottle to herself), but she didn’t seem to care.

Turning to the stairs, Belle was ignored and given space as she climbed up the pristine steps and gold railing as she slowly walked to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, Belle sat of the edge of her dressed bed and fiddled with the glass in her hands as she looked around. Some of the drawers were half-open from her hurried packing for the hospital and her sneakers littered around the plushed rug, it looked lived in and Belle could recall growing up in this very room and changing over the years of her growth…

So why does it all seem to unfamiliar to her now?

Feeling something on her cheeks, Belle cursed under her breath as she used her wrist to wipe away the hot tears that never seem to stop. Her bottom lip quivering, Belle set her empty glass beside her as she let out a sob and kept trying to stop the tears.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath as she wiped her nose with her sleeve. “Fucking shit…”

Hearing her door creak open, Belle didn’t bother to look as Dayton quietly entered the room and close the door carefully. She heard him approach the bed and sit down opposite to the glass as his cleaned and pressed suited arm wrapped around her back before she finally broke.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Dayton whispered gently as she turned his way to hide her face into his neck, bringing his other arm to hold her close as she cried. “Let it all out, Belle. It’s okay.”

Belle sobbed and clung to his expensive black suit, yet he didn’t fuss about it as he carefully pet her hair and rest his cheek on top of her head. She didn’t say anything as he kept doing this for who knows how long, letting her cry and stain his clothes and skin with her tears as she wailed against him and clung on to him like a helpless child. He was patient during all of this, keeping himself still and useful for her dispense in her time of mourning until it cooled down.

Her face feeling hot from crying so much, Belle sniffed through her nose and shook from her loss of energy being put through her meltdown. Dayton reached into his pocket and pulled out a few napkins he snagged from the buffet table to blot around her eyes, catching the smearing eyeshadow and mascara so it didn’t worsen from her constant rubbing. Belle let him treat her like this, let him dry her sore face and even wipe her nose as he blew a soft raspberry to trick out a weak laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood before crumbling the napkin to dispose of when he had the chance. Belle let out a long sigh, resting her head on her friend’s shoulder as she closed her eyes, she felt a bit calmer now after letting out all her pent up emotions.

“Do you need me to get you anything?” Dayton asked quietly after a few moments of silence. When she shook her head, he sighed and gently patted her back. “You know you don’t need to wait until you’re hiding from everyone else to cry, Belle. People understand if you need to cry at all…”

“I don’t like crying infront of those who came for Grandpa. You would know that better than anybody here,” she told him with a sort of teasing tone, and he chuckled.

“Like the time you hit your elbow really hard on a brick wall, and you waited until you got into the bathroom at school to start screaming? That was what? A whole five minutes from the field to the bathroom?”

“And someone thought I was actually threatening someone in there,” Belle snorted when Dayton let out a silly, surprised laugh that lightened the mood a bit. “God, that was a terrible day at school.”

“You were cursing like nobody’s business and they could hear you from the hall,” Dayton reminded her and she mocked him, which earned a squeezing hug on her back. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you, Belle?”

Belle thought it over for a minute, staring off to the wall that held framed photos of her grandparents and her as a baby, one of her few beauty shows she attended with her grandmother as a judge and one of her grandparents in their younger years. Hearing the faint noises of the people downstairs - most who Belle had met a few times or stories told by her grandfather - she realized that she didn’t want that to end quite yet. At least, not completely…

“Can you just stay for a while, please?” she asked quietly. “My uncle had to head back already, and I just don’t want to be alone in the house until I can figure out what to do…”

“He left already?”

“It was hard enough for him to even make it for the funeral,” Belle explained plainly. He didn’t need to know about her uncle and his (hopefully) past experience with the law. “Just for a week at most, please? I just feel awful at the idea of being all alone here with no one. It doesn’t feel right just yet and I’m scared of being alone.”

“Yeah,” Dayton said with a slow nod. “Yeah, of course, Belle. I can stay here with you for a while, don’t worry about it. It’ll be like the old days when I slept in that guest room next to the guest bathroom, right? I’ll wake you up at three in the morning and make you throw your shoes at me again.”

Relief filled Belle’s sore stomach as she smiled up to him with wet eyes, and Dayton gave her his TV practiced grin. “That sounds about right.”

“Then it’s settled,” he told her, patting her back. “I’ll head back to the hotel after everyone leaves and cancel the rest of my stay to come camp out here with you. I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You’re not going to feed me all those weird healthy junk. I better not wake up and find you doing those weird breathing exercises I saw you do on TV, because that was super uncomfortable seeing your stomach do that so unexpectedly,” Belle warned him.

Dayton shook his head. “Told everyone I’m taking a small vacation, they don’t need to keep tabs on my diet until I get back.”

“Promise you’ll stay here for a little bit longer with me, Dayton?” she asked him, suddenly serious as he looked him in the eye. “Don’t leave me in the dirt like you have in the past. I really need you here with me.”

Nodding, Dayton presented his pinky finger out to her and waited for her to return it by locking their fingers together. “I promise, I’m not leaving you here alone, Belle.”

“What do you mean you’re leaving already? It hasn’t even been two days, and you’re telling me now that you have a flight back to Daytona?”

Belle watched from the kitchen island as Dayton set the last packed bag on the other side of the counter. She was in the middle of making dinner when Dayton came downstairs with his suitcase in one hand and his duffle bag in the other, saying that he was called by his manager and instructed to come back on the next flight in first class. He was ready to go and leave by the time he told her what was going on and a cab already on its way to pick him up, leaving her absolutely baffled by it all.

“I know, I know,” Dayton hurriedly said as he approached her around the counter and placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from getting riled up. “Listen, I tried telling them that I couldn’t leave you or anything, but they need me back as soon as possible for the upcoming race this Saturday and won’t wait on me. Belle, you got to understand that this is my job - my career we’re talking about.”

“What the hell could they possibly need you to do before a race that’s not even happening for another seven days?” she asked him with a frown.

“There’s checking on the car and my health, for starters, then they scheduled me to do some interviews and promos for the channel and getting more sponsors,” Dayton explained hurriedly. “You know what happened with Chillbain. He’s not getting a whole lot of support from his product, so I’m trying to get other companies to help fund the crew; they’re putting a lot on me and expecting me to get this all to work, otherwise I might not be able to finish the season.”

“No, I get it, but you promised me, Dayton,” Belle told him with a stern expression and he sighed as she crossed her arms. “Don’t do this right now, Dayton. I need you here with me!”

“I know, and I want more than anything to stay here and take care of you, you know that,” he responded slowly. “But my work has to come first, Belle. I worked so hard for this and I can’t just leave my whole team behind, they need me, too!”

Appalled by his words, Belle looked to the bags on the counter with absolute hatred for them. Dayton cupped her cheek and guided her to look back at him, seeing the tears starting to emerge in her tired eyes. Biting his lip, the NASCAR racer held her face with both hands and fondly stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, attempting to calm her from getting upset.

“I’m not leaving you, Belle, I just need to handle work first,” he told her. “I’ll call you every day and night to check on you. As soon as the season is done, I’ll come right back to you and stay as long as you want me to, okay? Please understand…”

Belle saw his cell phone light up to alert him that his cab was outside the large house, and all his attention left as soon as he turned his head from her. Taking his phone and putting it in his pocket, Dayton dared himself to kiss Belle’s head so casually before going to retrieve his bags from the counter and back into his arms.

“I’ll call you, okay? I promise, Belle, I’m not leaving you.”

Belle didn’t sleep that night, being left in the discomfort of the vast space and quietness the house had to offer with her being the only one to provide a soundtrack of soft, tired sobs.

“And the last signature here, and it’s all yours, Shannon,” Belle sang brightly as she stood back to give the woman space to sign the contract of handing over the whole house and property to her grandmother’s second cousin’s great-niece.

Shannon was a kind woman who was a mother of four darling little girls that Belle got to care for during the summers and celebrate birthdays and holidays with. Shannon attended the funeral and was the first one to visit the hospital to comfort Belle in the loss of her grandfather, despite being much closer to her grandma; she was sweet and patient with Belle, always considerate and complimenting her with how she handles her daughters and makes them feel special. Outside of her grandparents and her dear uncle, who isn’t even blood-related to her, Shannon probably had to be the next closest thing to a relative Belle would consider being part of her family. She had Belle’s grandmother’s curvy figure and almost had a similar smile, so when Belle got to see Shannon at the ceremony it really meant a lot to her to try and reach out to the single mother more.

Shannon had money, nearly as much as Belle’s grandparents would receive prior to their retirement, but she was struggling to support her daughters with their schooling and her work schedule. The struggle of her ex-husband’s sudden demand of divorce and refusing to see his own children have been hard on the whole family, and both Belle and her grandpa had helped in caring for the girls after school. Her previous house was a great distance from the girls’ school and lacked a big enough backyard for parties or for her children to have fun in the outdoors. All while Belle’s had a natural garden that grew numerous flowers, and the house was actually a couple blocks away from the school district that the daughters would attend until high school, Belle knew that Shannon somewhat envied the home and wished for a house nearby to go up for sale…

And so, when Belle called Shannon the next day after Dayton’s departure with the offer to give the house to Shannon’s name, the mother couldn’t help but feel like she was living a dream and broke down on the phone as Belle confirmed her seriousness.

Belle packed her personal belongings and important documents. Boxes filled with clothes and her favorite pictures and trinkets she couldn’t depart with and donating everything else to the historic society of the city she lived in and shelters. Giving up thousands of dollars-worth of clothes and toys and blankets that defined her previous life to others who would appreciate them so much more than she ever could, Belle had the back of her grandfather’s classic Boss 429 filled with what she needed and everything else to Shannon and her girls. All her important necessities and identifications were set for her journey and all she had left to do was sign away the house.

“Your bedroom will be open for you when you come to visit, sweetheart,” Shannon explained, her voice thick with happy emotions as she took the pen from Belle and approached the car with the document waiting for her. “The girls already picked out which rooms they wanted, but we will leave your bedroom the way it is for you. This is...God, Belle, this is so...this is amazing. A-are you sure you won’t stay with us? You know there’s so much room, and the kids just adore you so much.”

“I meant what I said, Shannon,” Belle grinned as she fixed her sunglasses onto the crown of her head and the other signed the last dotted line. “If the bank has any questions about the sudden arrangement, they have my cell number and all that junk. Bills are already paid for the next two months, so you can settle in and relax until then.”

“This is really amazing, Belle. I don’t know how to thank you,” the woman sighed as she clicked the pen shut and closed the documents into a yellow envelope Belle provided. Holding it out to her, Shannon was quick to pull Belle into a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you…”

“I’ll call to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to your youngest angel by next week, after school, is that okay?” Belle giggled sweetly as she returned the hug when Shannon nodded with a motherly whine.

“Please be careful on the road, it’s a long way to West Virginia, you understand?” Shannon sighed as she pulled back to wipe her eyes. “Your uncle knows you’re on your way, right? Wherever the hell he lives, or whatever? He’s got a place for you to stay and everything, so you’re not living in the streets. The countryside can be such a scary place, honey.”

“Grandpa didn’t raise a scaredy cat, Shannon,” Belle teased with a wink.

“And the letter to your friend...Dayton, right?”

Belle nodded confidently and twirled the keys on her finger with a rather sweet smile. “If he asks, just give him the letter and be honest.”

Entering the classic with a smile, Belle waved out the window as Shannon disappeared in the horizon. Once she got to the highway with her phone app directing her along the way with the portable charger, she turned up the radio when she heard the familiar voice of one of her favorite singers that she would shout with joy whenever her grandparents played music in the kitchen. Grinning even bigger, Belle rolled down the driver’s window to let the wind hit her face as she began singing at the top of her lungs. She didn’t care if anyone driving by her gave her odd looks at this point, she was feeling her heart grow three times with joy as she recalled wonderful memories and the idea of new ones to come.

“Yer gonna love my brothers, Belle, I promise ya. They’re hilarious when they get into arguments and act like those silly boys in the schoolyard,” Mellie said cheekily as she looped her arm with Belle. The both of them dressed for their night out to go to the bar that is said to be a hidden treasure, Mellie insisted that her new best friend got to meet her older brothers.

Only having moved to Boone County less than a month, finding the above space of the flower shop she worked at from an answered ad made moving in a whole lot easier and surprising Joe Bang with a bouquet of flowers, along with meeting the people who lived in town. Mellie was the first one who Belle became friends with, mostly because the hairdresser caught sights of Belle’s Boss 429 outside the gas station and wanted to find the “hunk” who owned it, only for the newcomer to exit the store with a slurpee and the sudden question if she wanted to buy it for.

‘Well, how much is it?’ Mellie had asked warily.

‘Mm...hundred,’ Belle answered with a shrug and Mellie’s brows raised in confusion.

‘A hundred thousand for a classic? That cheap?’

‘No, just a hundred bucks. The sooner I get this off my hands, the better. The inside is modernized to run better, and I think it’s about two years old now.’ Belle wasn’t really expecting the other woman to nearly faint at how nonchalant she was about the whole interaction, and thus a friendship blossomed right from there. Mellie had the car of her dreams and Belle had someone willing to show her around and get more into the community whenever they weren’t working.

Reading the sign of Duck Tape, Belle was impressed by how comfortable the inside atmosphere was; people playing pool or celebrating a hard day’s work with a cold beverage, others just hanging out and watching the overhead TV with great interest. The bar counter was already crowded in time for the race as Mellie guided her new friend to the farthest booth in the back of the whole establishment, where a man was already cradling his second bottle of beer when he noticed the familiar strawberry blonde woman.

“Hey, Mel! Thought you wouldn’t make it!” the man smiled as he yanked Belle’s friend into a bone-crushing hug. As soon as the man noticed the guest Mellie brought, a sudden change in his charm flipped as he leaned on the table and raised a brow. “And who is this lovely lady you got here, Mel?”

“Jimmy, this is my friend Belle. The one I’ve told you ‘bout, who sold me the car?” Mellie introduced politely as Belle held out a hand to shake with him. “Belle, sugar, this blockhead is my oldest brother, Jimmy Logan.”

Jimmy took Belle’s hand in a gentle hold and pressed a flirtatious kiss on her soft knuckles. “Any beautiful friend of my baby sister is certainly a sight for sore eyes. It’s ‘bout time we got some more classy ladies on this side of town.”

“Then, I suppose you’ll need to keep waiting for those ladies to come, or at least get your eyes checked,” Belle responded just as teasing as she took her hand back, taking a seat across as Mellie followed with a laugh. Jimmy look surprised by the response, leaning back in his seat as he looked at Belle with round eyes. “Believe me, if you really want to try flirting with me, I can promise you that I’ve pretty much heard everything in the book.”

“Now I see why Mel liked ya so quickly,” Jimmy let out a short laugh. “That normally works on all the ladies who walk in here. Could a couple drinks even loosen you up?”

“If you pay for a dozen and a half Snakebite shots, I might let you call me pretty,” Belle said and Jimmy clapped his hands with amusement. The table laughed at the sudden comfortable and relaxed composure the two Logans offered her, and she knew she was going to get along with Jimmy just fine.

“Lemme get Clyde to start ya off, Belle,” Jimmy offered with a cheeky grin before letting out a piercing whistle, a couple patrons shouting at him to knock it off, and the bartender looked up to see him being waved over. “Clyde’s the one who has the talent of makin’ drinks. If you don’t like anythin’ he makes, you better get out of town now.”

Mellie rolled her eyes and patted Belle’s hands. “Clyde’s the younger brother. He’s actually the owner of the place,” she explained with a smile and Belle became genuinely interested.

“He does? And he works here, too?”

“Best bartender around!” Jimmy exclaimed loudly at the approaching figure, throwing his hands up.

Turning to see the tall man approach, Belle smiled politely in greeting as she admired his pressed button up and carefully combed dark hair. He had freckles in comparison to both of his siblings and he came off instantly as someone who was shy to her, yet nowhere near rude or bitter in her eyes. He was much different than either Mellie or Jimmy, who both were loud and easily excitable, but there was something really special about him when he noticed her presence and he seem to freeze for a second when they made eye contact.

Smiling, Belle reached her hand out to him. “Hi there, my name is Belle. Mellie has told me a lot about you and Jimmy, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

She saw how his cheeks changed a bit under the dim light of happy-hour and she remained patient as he slowly raised his own hand up and reached out carefully hold on to her much smaller hand. His hand was very warm and comforting to her when he gave her a very small, shy and gently smile.

“It’s pleasure to meet ya, too, Belle.”

The way he said her name echoed over and over, up until it started to overwhelm her thoughts as she stared at the greenery ahead of her. Greenery was also to her left as well as to her right; also behind her and spanning for a good mile or so as she sat on the rustic wooden bench in the middle of the pathway. The heavy rain wasn’t able to completely soak her, though, since the trees and leaves provided a thick cover over her and only allowing her to feel a few drops or so. Her sweater was thoroughly damp and her feet inside her shoes made silly noises, not to mention her hair was starting to frizz from the humidity, but she didn’t mind. As long as she wasn’t drenched.

Belle sighed, unable to believe herself getting so deep on the walking trail by the restaurant Clyde would take her to on their anniversary, and all on foot. Sure, she didn’t like driving as much and probably could have stayed within the neighborhood with the knowledge of the rain heading her way, but she just felt so lost in thought that she just found herself in one of her favorite places to come and relax...

Still, the very memory of Clyde’s angry expression at her when he yelled made her feel like she needed to give him this distance.

Belle knew he didn’t mean to yell at her on purpose, no! She knew him better than that and understood that he was feeling overwhelmed to the point that the kettle was about to burst sooner or later. Whatever he was hiding from her must have caused him a lot of stress for who knows how long, and Belle wanted nothing more than to take it all away from him and let him feel better and relax. She shouldn’t have pushed him, but she was scared for him nonetheless - she just hope he knew that.

Recalling the memories that basically drove her to Boone County, Belle realized that she didn’t regret a single thing she did. She didn’t regret closing off from her old life and meeting Clyde. Hell, he made her life a thousand times better just by saying her name or even smiling at her. He was the light she needed in her life and only wants to take away any pain he felt from this secretive cauliflower plan he was in.

Hearing the distant rumble, Belle snapped out of her thoughts once more as she realized how severe the weather was going to be. Having forgot her own damn cell, Belle sighed and pinched between her eyes and tried to think of a plan.

She left Clyde at home alone, and a storm was coming. She didn’t know if he would have taken his medication to ease the experience of the thunder and lightning without her there, but she didn’t want him to think that he was abandoned. Oh, no, she would never do such a thing to him.

Remembering how he said her name, Belle told herself she was going to wait for another few moments for the rain to lighten up a bit before heading back to the restaurant. She will borrow their phone to call Clyde to let him know where she was and then call Jimmy or Mellie to ask for a ride so that he wouldn’t have to risk himself behind the wheel.

“Belle...”

Her eyes closed, Belle told herself that she was going to let him know that he didn’t need to tell her anything if he didn’t want to. He doesn’t need to tell her anything, so long as he can trust her.

“Belle.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Belle was going to make sure Clyde was in bed as soon as she got home. She would wrap him in all their blankets and hold him close throughout the rain, giving him kisses and whispers of her love for him until the meds took him to a peaceful sleep...

“Belle!”

Her eyes snapping open, Belle’s head twisted at the voice shouting her name in a desperate cry through the rain. 

“Clyde?!”

Fun fact: This chapter is actually three pages longer than my limited 10, because the last two chapters were short.

taglist: @ayatimascd @oh-adam @formerly-anonhamster @deliriumdoll @a-whole-damn-sackler @bourbonboredom

Remember, if you would like to be tagged for future chapters, please don’t hesitate to message me! I’d be more than happy to add you. Thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you!

[rhapsody-under-pressure]

Losing What We’ve Learned

Don’t do that. Speak when you’re told. No, you have to do this. From the day you enter the world kicking and screaming, your mind a blank slate, you’re beaten and molded into the form that everyone else wants you to be. Parents are the puppeteers, threading the needle and sticking it into your body, lacing it around the base and controlling you until they suddenly snip the strings and leave you to fend for yourself, wondering why you’re so lost and scared.

It was a lesson he was close to finishing. With the morning sun just barely breaking through his shut curtains, Brian was buttoning up his shirt and tucking the loose ends into his jeans that he had freshly ironed the night before. He finished tying the knot to his tie, pulling it down and flattening it against his chest. A nagging exhaustion lingered at the back of his mind, the primal instinct to go lay down and fall back asleep until he naturally woke up again. Jolts ran through him, keeping him robotically working across his outfit and making sure he was as neat as possible as to not provoke any reprimanding from his parents. He fixed his hair, grabbing the still hot straightener, crushing out the last tight curl from his hair to make it as straight as he could. Yet there was one last thing to fix and he dreaded the day his parents would finally notice it. But for now, he rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the blatant exhaustion and hoping that a cup of tea would shove it away for another few hours.

As if on cue, the gentle knocking came out from the other side of his door, his mother’s soft voice coming through the wood.

“Brian dear, you up yet?”

“Yes! Just finishing getting dressed!”

Her gentle footsteps followed, growing softer and softer until he could hear them no longer. Before heading out, he pulled open his curtains. Pink and orange hues began blending into the sky that was still dark from the night before. The faint moon hung in the sky, barely visible with the rising sun starting to take its place above them. He tried to take in the happy sight so it would mix with his own mood and bring him back into higher spirits. Alas, the fresh sight did nothing to pick him back up. He hesitantly reached out, his fingers hitting the cold glass window as he continued to stare at the warm sight from his cold room.

To avoid any worry, Brian pulled himself away from the window, unplugging the straightener and rushing out of his room, instantly slowing down and poising himself into his regular, respectable manner. Shoulders straight, head and chin up, chest pushed out ever so slightly, and a calm, equal footed stride. A hearty laugh filled the room, Brian looking towards his beaming father who was sipping his coffee while a piece of sausage hung on the edge of his fork.

“Look at our boy Ruth! God he’s gonna be a great man someday. With a look like that, everyone’ll be begging for his picture to go on a magazine!”

“He cleans up so well. Even manages to keep his hair neat. Girls adore a clean boy, Brian.”

“T-thanks…I try!” He said in a forced happy tone.

“Sit down and eat dear, your plate is almost ready.”

His stomach turned as he took a seat across from his father, unfolding his napkin and laying it across his lap, watching as his mother brought over his still steaming plate of potatoes, eggs, sausage, and bread slathered with butter. She placed the bottle of ketchup in front of him, Brian looking down at the meal in front of him and dreading the idea of needing to eat half of what she had given him.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Your mother worked hard to give a good breakfast for us.” His father asked, a slight accusing tone hiding beneath his words.

“Y-yeah! J-just a bit nervous about school.”

“Oh don’t be nervous about that! You’ve high marks in all your classes! And the teachers adore you! Why would you be nervous about going?”

You wouldn’t get it…He thought solemnly. “It’s still fairly new into the year and teachers always love to pile work onto your lap.”

“Bah! You can handle it. You always do. You can’t let those slip though. Universities won’t take anything less than the best, especially if you’re going into a science field.”

“I know…” He said softly, picking up his fork and focusing on eating his potatoes instead of any meat on his plate. His mother brought him a glass of orange juice, laying it in front of him, Brian quickly swallowing what he had in his mouth in order to vocally thank her. Only once the potatoes, bread, and juice were gone did his stomach start to shrink. Just the mere scent of the remaining food on his plate sickened him. He paused, hoping the clock would speed up so he could rush out the door and someone else would have to deal with the meal he left behind. He’d barely made a dent in his meal and his stomach was still begging for food and yet he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything on his plate. Brian gave a cautious glance towards the clock, seeing five minutes remaining before it was seven.

“Go on and eat Brian. She worked hard, least you can do is eat your eggs before you go.” He told him, the glare from his father hitting him like a truck and forcing him to pick up his fork once more and plunge it into the eggs on his plate. Yellow slime poured out of the egg, the punctured yolk spreading farther and farther across the plate until it had completely spread around the entire thing, coating it in a repulsive yellow that was instantly being picked up by the few crumbs on his plate. He swallowed back the rising disgust, scoffing down the eggs as fast as possible as to not taste any part of them.

“Don’t wolf down your food. It’s uncivilized.”

A wave of nausea passed over him as he reached out for a napkin, quickly wiping away the muck from the eggs that clung to the edges of his mouth. He apologized softly, earning a scoff from his father. His stomach felt even smaller, the vulgar taste still attached to his tongue and pushing away the rest of his appetite.

“I think I’m good ma…I should get going. Don’t wanna be late!”

“Right, right. Best you get going.” She told him, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on his cheek. He waved goodbye to his father, grabbing his bag and dashing out down the steps and collapsing against the rail. Please…C’mon it’s not even seven…He tried catching his breath, snatching the water from his bag and guzzling half of it down so his mouth wouldn’t reek of those blasted eggs.

The temperature jumped a sudden twenty degrees, every part of his outfit slowly starting to cling more to his body. His heart raced and he could almost feel his pupils dilate. He quickly wiped his hands across his trousers and walked forward, trying not to count every step in case he took too many or too little.

“Good lord you work like clockwork! Every morning, here right at seven.”

“I try. Besides, you’re like that too…”

“Touché.” He answered with a laugh, his bright eyes glowing as they began their walk to school.

Brian wanted to bite down onto the strap of his bag to calm himself down. Every single nerve jumped in place as he continued to stare at his friend. He looked perfect but he looked like that every day. Hair combed through probably once in order to leave it organized yet still messy. Shirt untucked and tie barely put together. He didn’t know how he did it, but whatever it was, Brian couldn’t help but adore it.

“Hey you heard about that dance next Friday? It’s one of those ‘girls ask the guys’ dance. I’ve had four barking up my tree to go with them.”

“Forgot about it…Heh, makes sense anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ah…uh…well I’m not, oh c’mon Roger you know I’m not the most popular guy there. Most girls avoid me like I’m the plague.”

“Well if you didn’t dress like some old, right bloke you’d do better. You’re so damn quiet too! What you think they’re gonna know you if you never speak? Or keep up that teacher’s pet gimmick?”

“I don’t even think I wanna go…”

“Oh now fuck that! You’re going, date or no date. You think Fred and I are gonna let you get away with you not going? Hell Fred’ll probably find you someone, or he’ll go with you.”

“I’ll pay him to go with someone else.” He grumbled, dreading the idea of having to dance with their overly flamboyant friend.

“Like any bloke would go with him. He’s isolated enough as it is. Why not just go with him for fun? No one’s going to think you’re actually with him! Girls do it all the time anyway!”

“I dunno Rog…I might just not go.” Ask me and I’ll go…He thought, the image of having him slowly dancing up next to him, their bodies inseparable and the calm music surrounding him, a few pink lights shining from the rafters above with Freddie in the background, cheering them on.

“You are going!” Roger insisted.

Brian gave up on his arguing, deciding to just accept the fact that he was going even though he’d just be uncomfortable the entire time. Once he did accept, Roger gave his arm a hard punch with a playful ‘Er ya go!’, his face beaming with pride the rest of the walk to school. He kept his face down, watching his feet hit the pavement while the sound of Roger mindlessly tapping on one of his books became the only steady sound in the background. An icy breeze rustled their jackets and the trees, pushing even more of the leaves off their branches and letting them fall to the pavement on top of the dozens of rotting, dry leaves.

“There you two are! C’mon dears I gotta show you something!” A loud voice shouted as soon as they walked into the courtyard of the school.

Speaking of the devil himself, Freddie was clad in a dark red tie that stuck out against his usual uniform as to match that mischievous demeanor, those sharp eyes shimmering with excitement as he grabbed one of each of their wrists and tugged them across the way.

“Fred! We’re old enough-” Roger started.

“Hush you!” Freddie interjected, letting both of them go and nearly making Brian fall over onto the muddy ground. Freddie held his hand out behind them to keep them from walking around the corner of the building.

“Found out where Deacon’s been heading during lunch.” Freddie whispered, motioning around the corner, Roger immediately rushing ahead to catch a glimpse. Brian couldn’t help but follow, his own curiosity rising. He peered around the corner and, sure enough, that shy, nearly invisible fellow to the entire school minus them three was standing against the gate, his arms wrapped around a young girl’s waist and her own thrown up around his neck, their mouths pressed right up against the other’s.

When both parted, they rushed back behind the building, Freddie and Roger both muffling their laughter with their hands clasped over their mouths. Both of their faces were flushed a dark red and holding their sides. Brian ventured a glance back, the girl tracing her finger along his chest before moving her delicate hand up to move a loose strand of hair out of his face. She whispered something that Deacon probably didn’t hear too well, but whatever it had been, it made his face grow even darker.

“I know!” Freddie managed once he got his breath back. “I couldn’t believe it either! Hey!”

He felt something yank at the back of his shirt, seeing Freddie’s dismissive glare stare up at him, his arms now crossed over his chest.

“Don’t keep eavesdropping! Let them have some privacy!” He berated.

“You’re the one who dragged us over!”

“Yes and? You two should see, not keep on gawking at him like he’s an animal in a cage!”

“Oh come off it Fred!” Roger interjected. “You’re just as nosey as the rest of us.”

“Ab-soo-lutely not!” Freddie shot back, Brian’s eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at the statement.

Amongst all the arguing, none of them had been able to see or hear the couple’s approach, John standing against the wall and watching forlornly as his presumed girlfriend wandered back off into the crowd. Only when Roger took notice of him did he snap back into reality, adding a fierce glare towards each of them before directing his attention towards the ground.

“Deacon’s got a girlfriend! Deacon’s got a girlfriend!” Roger chanted with a broad smile on his face.

“Why didn’t you bother telling us?” Brian asked in a much softer voice.

“Because of that.” He admitted, pointing directly at Roger, who was still chanting his little tune.

“Now that’s not that bad.”

“The entire bloody school knowing it is!” Deacon argued, shooting a deadly glare at the other two, this time gaining Freddie’s attention.

“Hey, it’s alright Deaks…” Freddie said softly as he walked over. “We’re happy for you. Thought we’d have to hook you up with some broad eventually so you’d have a girl of your own. But! You beat us to it!” Freddie told him, adding a harsh, quick laugh afterwards.

Deacon’s eyes softened instantly as he looked towards the direction the girl had walked in. A small smile formed across his face. Freddie watched him intently, almost replicating the look upon his face before he tore himself away and looked at the rest of them. Roger had now recovered from his laughing fit and stopped his singing, now looking down at Deacon who was still lost in his own thoughts.

“Hello! Earth to Deacon! Get out of la la land, will you?”

“She’s so beautiful though…You ever seen anyone like that?”

Brian’s eyes instantly rushed over to Roger before looking back down at Deacon and shrugging. He didn’t seem to care, he was still just rambling on about her.

“She’s got these beautiful eyes and the sweetest laugh and she’s so smart and kind and just…God…”

“Ask her out then! We got that dance coming up and lord knows you two would be just adorable together! Who cares if the girls should ask, you’re girly enough to count.”

Deacon couldn’t even find words for a response. He just stared dumbly up at Freddie who could only wait a few seconds before bursting out with more ideas.

“Ooh! You two could go out to dinner beforehand at one of those absolutely lovely Italian places around the corner or you could buy her some flowers or after the dance you can head out to the cinema if it’s still open or-hey, you listening?”

“I-I am it’s-”

“Oh now if you’re gonna be all shy again!” Freddie started, giving a disapproving look towards him. “Bri, come on now, you think he should pass up an opportunity like this?”

“Ah-uh-well I mean I d-don’t think so but I guess…” He paused, nearly freezing under all three of their stares, his mind racing to find out what else to say. Yet any words he could’ve managed to get out instantly vanished once that sly little grin snuck up onto Freddie’s face.

“I mean…I could definitely help you out. Sneak a little note into her bag later and see what she says then!”

The look of pure fear upon the young boy’s face transmitted the feeling right to Brian as he seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each passing second. Freddie stood proudly, his eyebrow cocked upwards as he now waited for a proper response from Deacon, who was still trembling in his spot.

“C’mon now Deacon.” Roger finally said. “She knows you like her. Hell you two were just snogging in the corner over there! Lord knows she’s probably dying for you to ask her.”

“Probably dying for something else too.” Freddie commented, Brian giving his arm a hard hit while Deacon groaned loudly.  

“I-I know…” He replied, turning his gaze towards Roger. “I-it’s just hard, okay? I don’t like the extra attention cause everyone’s gotta shove their noses into my business just because I got a girlfriend or whatever.”

“Bah! Fuck that nonsense!” Freddie shouted, “You two are hardly noticeable as it is. People might just look at it because they can’t ignore it. Like a car crash.”

Each of them shot Freddie a deadly glare, Deacon only giving another loud groan afterwards and resting his head atop his knees. Before Freddie could get another word out, the bell rung, Deacon taking his chance and dashing off to not have to endure any more of Freddie’s shenanigans or ideas. Freddie looked down at the ground, giving a small shrug and rearranging his things before putting on his happy mask and looking back at them.

“I’ll get him that date. He’ll thank me in the end.” He told them before heading off.

Brian’s own heart had begun racing with every passing second, his mind racing to add up the time it would take for him to get from the courtyard over to his first class. Three minutes, if there wasn’t any terrible traffic, which he knew there would be since it was first, so he would have to allot another minute to give him ample time to get there or take the backway which always took longer but-

“Hey, I know a shortcut to first. Let’s get going.” Roger said to him, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him off in said direction.

He didn’t even have time to think about what he had just said and just nodded, his body still bristling with tension at the touch on his arm. Even when Roger released his sleeve, his body was still jumping a few degrees for the next few moments. He instantly clasped both hands around his books, trailing ever so slightly behind Roger as they made their way through the crowd of students and headed to the quieter shortcut for their first class.

…

When study hall finally rolled around, Brian couldn’t have been more relieved. A quiz for first and a completely hellish third class made him wish he could just collapse onto his bed and listen to music without any other distractions. Yet the mound of work sat in front of him, demonically laughing at him and making him wish he could just skip ahead a few hours to where he was all done with every bit of it. But that time wasn’t now and what other choice did he have but to get started with it.

Turned out, Freddie was ready to give him a second option. A knock on the door garnered the attention of the students who weren’t sleeping with the teacher waving her hand for him to come in, not even giving a glance his way as he entered.

“Alright, get up!” Freddie said as soon as he got over to him. “You can deal with this shit later on.”

“No I can’t. I gotta help dad out with some work and then I got even more stuff to study and-” Brian began.

“Brian! Come on! You’re one of the smartest blokes in the school. Take a bloody break for a second. I swear you could miss half the semester and you’d still get perfect marks!”

“That doesn’t mean-” He started.

“Don’t argue love. C’mon, least go study somewhere that doesn’t feel like a prison cell. God I swear I feel like I’m turning grey just from sitting in this room!”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not unless you want me to sit here the whole time.”

Brian huffed, but eventually agreed, folding his book closed and shoving it back inside of his bag, wishing he had just waited for Freddie’s arrival instead of hoping he would’ve given him some time to study. Yet Freddie had practically made this a routine between the two of them, seeing as they both had study halls at the same time, and always came over to drag him out of his own designated room so that he would have something more fun to do. Freddie beamed instantly, helping him with his things and tugging him out of his seat.

“He’ll be back before the period’s over.” Freddie told the teacher, though she didn’t even seem to realize he had even entered the room.

As expected, Freddie was heading towards their usual spot. Since the cafeteria and courtyard were out of the question to go sit in, they always took to this little place near the stairs by the gymnasium. Freddie almost always went there anyway when he didn’t have to be in class, claiming it was one of the quieter areas of the school, to which Brian couldn’t help but agree and appreciate the silence in a less bleak area. It was odd that a classroom full of living teens felt less alive than a completely desolate stairwell and yet…

“So? You gonna ask him or what?” Freddie said as he took his seat under the stairs.

“Pssh, sure. And tomorrow I’ll just go and grow wings and fly to the moon!”

“Hey, just a question. Don’t get all bitchy. That dance would be the perfect thing for you to say something!”

“Yeah, yeah I know but it just won’t work. He’s not into me anyway and he’d probably prefer some broad here to go there with.”

Freddie gave a loud laugh, smacking his arm. “Then why the hell hasn’t he asked any! Lord knows he would’ve! He’s got the most confidence out of the four of us anyway and God knows it wouldn’t be hard for him to get some hot girl to go with him to the dance.” Freddie paused for a second. “Course he could just ask a girl a question and they’d throw him their shirt and bra.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want-” Brian started.

“Maybe this, maybe that, maybe he-Oh shut it already May! Good lord you’re never gonna know unless you just fucking go for it! You have no idea with him, just try it. You don’t even need to get all romantic with Rog and make it sappy and all that. Just go there with him so he’ll have someone besides me and Deacon to talk to.”

“Aren’t you still trying to hook him up with that girl?” Brian asked.

“Yes but that is not the point!” He barked, furrowing his brow and staring at the wall in front of him. “I’ll focus on that when I see him again but for now I still think you should at least go there and hang out.” He softened his voice and finally looked back at him. “Bri dear I really think you should go. Even if it’s not to hang out with Rog and me you just need to get out of the house. Every day you go back home and just lock yourself up in your room and study endlessly or do whatever the hell your parents want you to do. That’s not a way for anyone to live!”

“C’mon Fred…I got a lot to study for. I gotta get into that university so I can actually study what I want!”

“Yeah and most of what you want to study requires actually being outside! How can you want to study the stars and not go outside to actually fucking see them!?”

“It’s just hard…You know my parents, they want me to study as much as possible. If I ever let them down because…”

“Brain. You listen to me and you listen to me now. Stop doing what they want you to do. My parents want me to be some fucking business dude and God knows I’d rather jump off a bridge than dress up in a suit every day and talk about mortgages or royalties or whatever. If your parents give any damns about you then they’d fucking let you do what you want.”

“What if I don’t know what I want?”

“Then you take your time. You’re seventeen Bri…That’s young. We’ve all got so much time for stuff to change or enter our lives.”

His mind howled back at him. No no you’re meant to be prepared. Having a plan and following through so that you’re safe. That’s what they always told him and he knew they wouldn’t lie to him about the true route to success.

“Freddie…” He began, giving a long sigh afterwards and staring up at the stairwell floor that hovered above them, wondering how the hell there was so much gum and writing on it. “Don’t you think it’s better to have something planned out.”

“Plans are helpful but damn it all if you shouldn’t at least bend a bit to see what might come your way. Did you really think you’d go and fall for Roger? Probably not and yet look where you are now. Wishing that he’d come to you without a shirt on after a quick swim and kissing you beneath the sunset so that you won’t have to go and say ‘I’ll be at the dance’.”

“I don’t fantasize about that!” Brian shouted.

“Yeah and I’m straight.” He said back, slouching even more so against the wall. Freddie gave a quick hum and looked his way. “You should spend more time in the locker room during gym. You get a lot of nice views while you’re in there.”

“Freddie!”

“What? I mean it. While those rugby players are so loud and obnoxious, they do look quite nice without any shirts on. Or trousers for that matter…You ever really get a look at that guy? What’s his name…James or some shit. Now that there is someone I wouldn’t mind to have in gym.” Freddie rambled, his mouth curling up into a devilish smirk.

“The bloke looks like he rolled in dog fur.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

The usual sly grin crept up onto his face, Brian feeling quite thankful that he couldn’t see into Freddie’s mind at the moment. He sighed and leaned back against the wall. As much as he wanted to follow Freddie’s advice, both of them knew just how slim the chances were of that working out were. Besides, if it did work, neither could continue with it. The invisible stares and sneers of those around them because they were just a bit closer together already began to burn his skin and twist his stomach around. If Deacon having a girlfriend caused this much buzz between the four of them, he could only imagine what would happen if he even admitted to having a crush on Roger.

“Hey, I know you’re not gonna take my advice but I’m still sticking to what I said.” Freddie told him once more. “If you wanna know, all you gotta do is try.”

Brian just shrugged, still not sure if he should even begin to contemplate the idea with Freddie around. The guy could read your thoughts with the slightest change in your expression. But there was one thing Freddie was good at and that was secrecy.

“It’s just…I dunno. How would everyone else act?”

It was then that Freddie’s own expression darkened. For once it was something that he couldn’t just brush off with another smirk or witty comment. Freddie just scoffed, now trying to find a proper response to what he had just said.

“I mean…It’s not like we could just go ahead and do it.” Brian continued, his insides now starting to churn. “Even just a rumor…I don’t want anyone to know…If my parents ever found out, I’d be a goner.”

“Hmph…Hell I don’t even know…I’d be a dead man too.” Freddie mumbled, a dark confusion now spreading across his face as he tried to finish what he wanted to say. “It’s…Tsk…I don’t even know what I’d do if I found some bloke who liked me…I’d probably run and hide from him…” A hard longing and sadness filled his face before he continued. “Be so much easier if I could find a girl so that everyone here would just shut up. ‘Oh you should find someone! Always bragging about what a good lay you are!’ or ‘Bucky over there couldn’t find a broad even if she had the same teeth.’ Fucking bastards. Don’t know how to keep their traps shut.”

“Tell me about it. People barking at you every now and then and calling you ‘teacher’s pet’ gets annoying. So does ‘goody-two-shoes’.”

“Hey, it’ll be them who repeat their final year three times because they can’t multiply past ten times ten.”

Both fell silent. Who wanted to talk about something like that in school? The risk of someone else hearing them was so immensely high; Brian didn’t even want to consider what would happen if someone did overhear them: blackmail, revelation, taunting...Anything petrified him. To think it’d been so easy for Freddie to tell them about it and yet it seemed like he didn’t want to tell himself. He’d go off all the time about what he’d love to do with a guy if anyone ever wanted him. Yet Freddie himself always seemed so hesitant to truly accept where he was. It wasn’t like he wasn’t somewhere similar…He didn’t want to admit it either. Who would?

The time slowly ticked by, Freddie occupying himself with toying around with his outfit or hair while he just stared at the opposing wall. Why did he always have to bring it up? He knew he didn’t like talking about this and yet that’s all Freddie did when it was just the two of them. Maybe it was because Freddie knew he could relate to him. Maybe it was just to start drama so he could ‘get a kick out of it’. Whatever the actual reason was, it’d fit Freddie to a tee. He wished he could see into the bizarre mind of his, just so that he could understand why he felt that need.

“You ever wonder what it’d be like to be off on your own?” Freddie finally asked.

“You know I do.” Brian told him. “It’ll be great.” He lied, the old fear starting to settle in his stomach.

“But to just be free!” Freddie exclaimed. “To just be…you. No one badgering you for who you were and to just let everyone, including you, be happy. You think that’ll every happen?”

“No.” Brian replied in a blunt tone. “No one’s ever gonna change that much. Let alone society.”

“Now don’t be so pessimistic! C’mon Bri…You gotta think that there’s some good out there.”

“I didn’t say there was no good. I’m saying that old traditions and ways don’t die easily. The way we’re raised will affect the future and I doubt all the children right now are not being taught the same exact stuff over and over again.”

“But those who don’t like what they’re taught can change it. There’s gotta be a future out there where people can just be happy.” Freddie retorted. “Isn’t there?” He asked solemnly, his eyes growing dark with desperation.

“I dunno Fred. I just don’t know.” Brian told him, trying to leave his own doubt out of this.

“You know what then.” Freddie told him in a much stronger voice. “If the world’s gonna be a bitch, I’ll be one right back. Try me. I’m not letting anyone tell me otherwise.”

Good luck with that. Brian thought as he sunk lower towards the ground. He wished he could share Freddie’s current optimism. It seemed so easy to just ignore everything. Maybe he should just stop everything he was putting himself through. The thought was sincere but the accompanying feelings were anything but. In an instant, the thoughts were dashed away, leaving him wondering what would’ve happened if he let them stay for just a bit longer.

He glanced towards his watch, groaning and pushing himself up from the uncomfortable position. Freddie got the message and heaved himself up as well.

“Look. I know what you’re thinking.” Freddie told him in a hard voice. “But you gotta at least try. Ignore your bloody parents and the other kids. Just be you.”

Freddie headed up the staircase without another word, leaving him to continue to wonder why on earth he was dwelling on Roger so much. He heaved a heavy sigh and grabbed the few things he had, already starting to toss away the bustling thoughts. Only when the bell rung did he succeed, his mind clicking back into its robotic state and walking him off to his next class.

…

The lock clicked as he twisted the key within. As expected, the house was empty. Not a soul was moving around nor were there any signs that someone had been home recently. It was normal, and it was something Brian truly relished. Those few moments of solitude in his own abode were truly something he wished he could have more of. Alas, he knew already that he had about an hour before his mother would return home, meaning the gratuitous time was slipping right through his fingers with every second he spent staring at nothing.

Brian instantly took to his usual routine. He hurried to his room, laying his bag on the neatly made bed and took out his work. Something once again began gnawing at the back of his mind, Brian shooing it away in an instant.

His work took hours, yet it would take others usually days to finish it all. The usual headache began to grow about three hours in and made him wish he could just be done with all of this already. It wasn’t hard. It was just tedious. Every damn sentence he had to write out in that perfect format so the teacher wouldn’t bark at him that it was properly written. Each formula that was etched in his brain. Couldn’t it have been so much shorter? He understood it. So why make him do it thirty times when ten was just plenty. Because without practice, you can’t be successful. Those words echoed through his mind, Brian wishing his father wouldn’t keep repeating it whenever he came home with a load of homework.

When it was actually finished, Brian neatly put it away in the designated folders and gently placed them each in his bag. His brain was pounding and each part of him just wanted sleep. But the bustling down the hall kept him from laying there. In a matter of minutes, someone would come over to remind him to come and eat. As he tried to head out, his eyes landed on the guitar sitting in his closet. The beautiful crimson wood almost hid among the darkness of the closet, but the light reflected off a few bits so he could finally see it.

Just a moment…He thought as he let go of the doorknob. He walked over to his closet and grabbed the guitar by its neck. A flash ran through his arm and up through his body when he came in contact. It grabbed him and took over for a second, allowing him to bring it out and hold it in his hands. It was just beautiful, absolutely beautiful. How he wished he could properly play it. An amplifier of any kind would be a blessing in disguise. He allowed his fingers to dance across a few of the strings, the soft, but warm, sound following, its full potential lurking beneath the surface.

A knock from the other side of the door scared the daylights right out of him, the guitar leaving his hands for a second as he fumbled around to keep it from falling. The door opened behind him, his father standing on the other side, an imposing glare hiding in his eyes while he put that fake smile up on his face.

“Oh you and your music.” His father told him, reaching out and taking the guitar from his hand and immediately placing it back in the closet. “You know better than to keep us waiting when it’s time for dinner.”

“Y-yes…Of course. Sorry about that, I just finished with my work and-”

“Ah thatta boy! Remember, without practice, you won’t be successful.” He told him, the invisible needle stitching the words onto his brain again.

He smiled sheepishly and followed his father out of the room, looking behind him for just a second and seeing the neck of the guitar inside of his closet, Brian once again shutting out his mind and trudged down the hall.

A sickening scent hit his nose, making his stomach violently twist. His eyes landed upon the dinner table. It was a classic scene, one someone could’ve seen in any picture book. A small basket of bread with butter ready to be spread, a freshly made salad with bright tomatoes, dark leaves of lettuce, and purple curves of onions while the dressing was reflected off the light hanging above their table. Glasses filled with ice, a bottle of beer next to what he knew was his father’s plate, more roasted greens sitting inside of a neat little bowl, all of it looked tantalizing, minus the cut pieces of chicken lined across a white plate, a boat of gravy sitting next to it.

His nerves shot around as he took his assigned seat, his mother to his left and father to his right. He made it through the routine of saying grace and allowed the others to grab their food first. Each went right for the still steaming chicken before moving onto the other food around it, Brian taking his chance and diving for what he actually wanted to eat. He lined his plate with as much salad, roasted asparagus, and bread to completely cover his plate so his parents wouldn’t force any of the dead bird down his throat. The idea revolted him, the memory of this morning’s incident only making it harder for him to eat what he actually wanted to enjoy.

In those few seconds of silence while everyone took their first bites of dinner, Brian tried to formulate a kind of story that they might actually want to hear. What was there? All he’d gotten to deal with was the usual routine that had been crafted since his birth. So, nothing new ever happened. He couldn’t dare mention his conversation with Freddie. They both already disapproved of him and his flamboyancy. Anything that had happened earlier would only anger them more.

“So, anything happen in school?” His father finally asked.

“Ah! W-well…” Brian began, laying his bread down on his plate. “Not really…Just the usual go to class and do what I can. Came home, did my work, and now we’re here!” He told him, seeing him give that pleased smile.

“That’s good. It’ll help you in the future if you keep the hard work up.”

“Brian hon, surely you’ve heard of the dance coming up!” His mother piped, giving her soft smile. “I heard it from Williams next door. Her son is ecstatic to go.”

“Bah! Ruth dear you know Brian doesn’t bother himself with any frivolous things such as dances. He’s got so much work to do.”

“Harold, don’t you think it’d be fitting for him to enjoy a night out. Perhaps he could hang out with Roger.”

“Yeah and that means that Frederick too. He doesn’t need much more of him, let alone at an event like that.”

“I-I mean he’s not that-” Brian began.

“Don’t interrupt!” His father snapped. “He’s got no reason to go. It’d be a waste of time and any more time with that Frederick is gonna turn him into some bum flashing himself at a party, neck deep in alcohol and I will not accept that!”

“Harold.” His mother said sternly. “He’s just a boy-”

“A boy who’s got so much going on that any behavior like that would throw him off. I’d bet every pound I got that something’s off with that Frederick and I’m not having him rub off on Brian.”

Nervous stares were directed towards his father, whose anger could be felt for miles. All fell silent and returned to their meal. He silently apologized to his mother, knowing that his father’s temper was on him from having his guitar out, not her bringing up the dance. He scoffed down his meal as fast as he could without reprimand. The chicken sat in front of him, half of it missing and sitting either on his parents’ plates or in their stomachs.

Dinner was quiet. No more talk of school, work, or any other miscellaneous babble. When they’d all had their fill, Brian took to clearing the table, his father moving off to the couch and reading the paper. While he washed the dishes he’d gathered, his mother began wrapping up the remainder of the food from dinner, neatly putting it in containers and then in the fridge. He looked down at her, seeing a dejected shadow inside of her eyes while she quietly worked. His eyes moved off to his father who, as expected, was sat with his nose buried in the paper.

“I’ll go pack my bag.” Brian finally said, hoping his father wouldn’t say anything else.

Thankfully, no one did. He hurried back to his room and shut the door as fast as possible. The checklist was already forming in his mind even though he already had everything ready for the next day. Well, everything but any encounter with the others. He could already see a conversation with Freddie and Deacon spoke as much as a piece of yarn. But Roger…Lord how he wished that he could predict how any conversation with him would go. It’d make it all so much easier. No more nerves bouncing about or butterflies dashing around in his stomach.

But he just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why he felt that way towards him. Of all people he could’ve fallen for, he fell for him. There were obvious issues with liking him, but something was so alluring about him. That cheekiness, the confidence that just radiated off of him. The guy paraded around like a tiger. It was amazing to watch. How he wished he could share it.

Time ticked by slowly, Brian pretending to be occupied with his work whenever someone came by as to avoid any conversation. His shower was done as quick as he could and well before midnight, he had his pajamas on and a book in his hand. Light now came from his desk lamp instead of the sunlight outside or the bigger lamp at the corner of his room. A few cars rumbled from outside, but besides the occasional turn of a page, all was silent. Brian found it both soothing and unnerving. He just wished for his eyes to finally grow heavy so he could mark his page and get under the covers so this day could just end.

Yet, his mind kept up the thoughts. He tried to focus on the words in front of him, but he found it nearly impossible to care or focus on them. Fitzgerald’s words seemed to form a blur of black and white. He shook his head, closed his eyes for a second, and tried to refocus before his turning and heavy thoughts resurfaced.

He hadn't once ceased looking at Daisy, and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes.…The dance…it was just a few days away. Roger would be there…Sometimes, too, he stared around at his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding presence none of it was any longer real. Maybe he should just go…It’d shut Freddie up…whereupon Gatsby sat down and shaded his eyes and began to laugh. “It’s the funniest thing, old sport,” he said hilariously. “I can’t — When I try to-”

Brian tossed the book away, the pages fluttering and the book landing on the ground with a quiet thud. How could he focus on anything else but the impending Friday night? Freddie was right, though admitting it would have him boasting about it for ages. But lord was he right. It’d be better to know what would happen then to keep living in this state of confusion and wondering. Surely it was…Was it not better to try something and fail or just never attempt it in the first place?

The question had plagued his thoughts since he first met Roger. That first time their eyes met a truck had slammed into his chest. He couldn’t speak for a few seconds and had to be whacked out of it by a slap on the back of his head by Freddie. Over the two years he’d battled the idea that just saying something, something that simple, could solve everything or make everything worse. Even if he did like him, how could he even find a way to be with him when everyone around you thinks your mere existence is a creation of the Devil himself?

He glanced over to his bedside table, the small drawer calling out to him. The lamp cast a now angelic glow upon the wood, Brian now following it and opening up the drawer. A few papers sat inside of it, his handwriting scrawled out in various pens. Old song ideas began to swarm around in his mind again, the lyrics reminding him of the few short moments that his parents had seemed to encourage his desire for music. But his father had slammed the songs away into the drawer the instant he seemed to be moving away from what he wanted him to do. The old thought hurt just as much as it did when it was the moment itself.

An urge arose once again, one he hadn’t felt since the last time he held those papers. To be perfect, to make everything as good as it could be. He reached out and grabbed a pen from his bag, placing the tip of it against the paper, a small blue dot forming and slowly growing. Brian took a deep breath and scratched out a few words, writing in what he felt fit better. His pen moved over the words, hovering just a centimeter above it until he scratched out more words and replaced them once again. This process continued as he scoured through all he had written, tossing the papers aside, making notes in the margins about what could be a guitar rift or solo in the future.

For once it felt natural to do this. Like no one was going to barge in on him and tear it out of his hands, telling him he’d be wasting his time with anything trivial. Once he did put the pen down, he stared down at his work, pride swelling up in his chest. It was his. Something he made. No matter what, someone couldn’t take away that satisfaction of making something better, something he had made himself nonetheless. The song was his own. Not perfect, but for now it seemed to be. Every stroke of the pen had been made by him: whether it be a note, rift, lyric question, or random doodles he made when trying to think. His pride seemed to start to relax him, his eyes now starting to grow heavy.

Brian now folded up the papers, laying them gently inside of the drawer and putting the pen back inside of his bag. His hand slightly ached, but it was that good kind of ache, like the type an athlete got after exercising. Again, his eyes fell upon the guitar that sat inside of his closet. The desire to test out the notes he’d written down arose again as he continued to stare longingly at it. But it was unfair to play it without letting it reach its full potential. He laid down beneath his covers, letting out a heavy yawn before finally shutting his eyes, now ending he final part of his routine and, within minutes, drifting off into a blissful slumber, that pride never once vanishing.

[jaeheestone]

SHARING (ONESHOT) - JUNGKOOKxFEM!CHARACTER

Genre: escort!jungkook; fluff; COMEDY, light mentions of smut

{I’m not an english native speaker and I haven’t checked it before posting. Forgive my mistakes. Enjoy!}

- I bet everyone understands how I felt every damn time I went to my house and all my damn family asked me about my non-existent boyfriend. I was a doctor so I had no time to spare with men. Literally, my previous experiences had been all negative so I didn't really feel like sharing another one with one more fuckboy. And that was the answer I gave my parents everytime. But they weren't content with it.

"You're a grown woman." "When are we going to see our grandsons." Just thinking about that made my stomach turn upside down. Me? Children? Husband? Responsibilities? No, thanks, I already had too many with my patients and stuff. Plus, I wasn't THAT old. I was just thirty years old. I looked younger, though. Who said a woman has to get married early and have children to be a proper woman? If you're going to think like that, just go back to the fucking Middle Ages. Anyway, it got to the point where visiting my parents became a torture to me just because of that stupid question so I decided to come up with a solution. I literally had no male friends that could help me. Well, I had a few, but I couldn't trust them. If I asked them to be my fake boyfriend they would spread the news all around the city and I didn't want that. After speaking to my best friend, we realized there was only one possible solution. I was a doctor so I had quite a lot of money. That wasn't a problem. And after thinking and thinking and whole packages of cigarettes being literally depleted, I finally looked at myself in the mirror and made the decision. His office was... cute. I mean, cute for an escort. My strange imagination had made me think there would be dildos and handcuffs everywhere but there wasn't any. I was waiting on the couch when he finally made his appearance. He looked exactly like my friend had described him. Handsome, tall, dark. He was classy, though. His movements were fine and his little smile when his eyes were finally on me made my blush a bit. —Song Jaehee?— he asked. —If you are Jeon Jungkook, than that's me— I smiled. He chuckled.—That's me. Nice to meet you. We shook hands and he sat down. He asked me to explain what my situation was. —I've got annoying parents. They live in the countryside. Everytime I go to visit them, they ask me about my husband. Clearly, since I'm here, I don't have an husband nor a boyfriend. So I wanted to ask you to come along with me to visit them and pretend to be my boyfriend— I said, quickly. I somewhat felt embarrassed due to his gaze. As expected, he laughed.—This is the first time I am met with something like this!— he composed himself.—But let me ask you something inappropriate. How come you don't have a boyfriend even though you are so pretty? I wasn't the type to just blush and look away when people complimented me. I was most likely to make annoying ironical comments. And I did it in front of him, too.—Well, you know, not everyone has got good tastes. He smiled.—I know, I know. If people had good tastes, I would be a billionaire. —Aren't you?— I asked. —I'm not poor— he shrugged.—But I'm not a chaebol. I nodded and a few seconds passed. I felt like he was... analysing me? —How long is the visit to your parents? —Four or five days— I smiled at his face.—I know, that's a lot. But I see them rarely. —It's going to be tiring— he sighed sarcastically.—But I've got a great sixth sense and I feel like this is going to be fun. —I am an entertaining individual, so why not— I shrugged.—How much will you cost me? One arm? One leg? Both? He laughed.—A bit of your long hair will be enough— he commented.—Anyway, it depends on what you're looking for. But since we'll be in front of your parents, I guess you don't want to get intimate with me. —Unluckily for you, I don't. Sorry. He smiled.—That's your loss, not mine— he said.—Let's say 3000 dollars. I nodded.—I thought you would ask more. That's... a fair price. —Really?— he eyed me.—What do you do in your life? —I'm a doctor. —Wow! Doctor Song! I guess I'll come to you next time I feel sick. Tell me you're a gynecologist. I smirked.—I'm a cardiologist, so I hope you won't have to come to me. He nodded.—That's right. ____________________________________________________ We were in the car heading to my parents' house. He offered to drive, claiming my father wouldn't be happy to see the man standing and the woman driving. I had explained a few things about my household, mainly about my parents being... conservative. We spent some days together to get to know each other. He was really nice, actually. Apart from being an escort, he worked in a publishing house. He was the vice-director. We had some playful "dates" at his house where I even offered to check his health. My 3000 dollars were well spent, I thought. Also, the fact that they were not enough for the time he was giving me kept bothering me. —Are you an only child?— I asked. —No, I have an older brother. He is a soldier— he smiled. —Wow! A soldier! Let me meet him, so that we could play Decendants of the Sun together. Is he fine-looking? —I'm honestly better— he chuckled.—Also, my brother is veeeery serious. I don't think you'd get along with him well. —Are you implying I'm not a serious person?— I asked, fakely offended. —I'm not implying anything— he answered.—I just stated the truth. I scoffed.—I'm a doctor. I've got a reputation. How dare you offend me like that. —You know I'm joking— he smiled and placed his hand on my thigh. I stiffened automatically. He didn't seem bothered by his gesture nor by my reaction. Well, he was used to it. I wasn't, though. But if I said I didn't like it, I would be lying. I liked Jungkook... as a friend. I appreciated his company. I liked the attention he gave me. More than that, I liked the fact that he was giving me more attention than he should. I was aware of that, perfectly. I also wondered why he did that, but I guess the only precise answer I could obtain had to come from his mouth. I would ask him after the stay at my parents'. We arrived and my mother and my father were already outside waiting for us. I immediately felt embarrassed and I looked at him. —Please, if they say something stupid, don't mind them— I pleaded. He looked at me concerned.—Why are you so worried? Relax, sweetie. I shivered at the pet name and I rushed out of the car as soon as he parked. I ran to hug my momma and my papa. Even if they were annoying, I still loved them, and it was a pleasure to see them again. —Jaehee, it's been so long!— Mom cried drastically. —It's literally been two weeks— I laughed. I couldn't even complete my sentence, because mom pushed me aside to reack Jungkook. I could tell from her posture she was already head over heels for him. —Mom! Don't harass him too much— I joked. She grabbed his hand.—You... you are an angel sent from above. I swear. How could such a nice guy get paired up with my daughter? I sighed.—You don't even know him. —Shut up!— she said.—What's your name, boy? He bowed.—My name is Jeon Jungkook— he looked at my father for a second.—Nice to meet you. My father reached for him to shake his hand and I somehow felt emotional. Jungkook wasn't my real boyfriend. But it felt as if he was. He looked sincere. He seemed genuinely nervous. But then I shook my head and I remembered he wasn't accustomed to works like this. For God's sake, Jaehee, don't fantasize. ____________________________________________________ The days passed quite quickly... to my great regret. I was honestly having a lot of fun. The days at my parents' had never felt so cool. Mom loved Jungkook. Dad loved Jungkook. Jungkook loved them both. Also, you know, to make it more real, the boy occasionally grabbed my hand, ruffled my hair, kissed my cheek. The most shocking thing was that mom put us together in one room. With one bed. Jungkook obviously seemed fine with it. I didn't. I had literally never shared the bed with a man. Everytime I hooked up with someone, they either left of I did. Jungkook was being my first in too many things. And all of it combined together, made me feel things for him that I shouldn't. But I was a cardiologist. So I knew better than anyone that you can't control your heart. It was the last night and we were chilling on the couch, watching a film. I had my head on Jungkook's legs. Mom and dad were soon sleepy so they dismissed themselves and went to bed. We were left alone in the living-room but none of us spoke until the film ended. Jungkook stretched his arms and yawned. —What a loss of time. —Why? It was cool— I said, getting up. He followed my movements. —Not even one porn scene— he complained. I goggled.—I can't believe you're already undergoing abstinence from sex. —Four days is so much for me, you know— he smiled. —Can I help?— I joked. —Don't provoke me that much. I'm still a man and you're still a woman. Plus, we're on a couch in a dark room— he commented. —Moreover, my parents are upstairs! If you touch me, I'll get my daddy to kill you. —If I touch you, you'll think your daddy is somebody else— he smirked. I made a face.—Gross. But effective. —Let's go to bed, woman. —Wait— I grabbed his arm.—I need to ask you something. I gulped. The time had come. He looked at me with sleepy eyes.—Sure. —I... I don't really know how to say this— FUCK YOU! I AM HONESTLY SO FRUSTRATED BECAUSE OF YOU. I WANT YOU TO GET IN MY PANTS BUT I ALSO DON'T WANT TO. BECAUSE I AM A MESSY BITCH AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANT FROM LIFE. JUST DEAL WITH IT. This is all I wanted to tell him but I couldn't because otherwise he would think I was a crazy idiot. —Speak with your own words, I'm all ears— he crossed his arm. His veins were popping. Fuck my life. —I... wanted to ask you...— I sighed.—Just, why did you make me pay, like, half the price I owe you? You've spent more than two weeks with me. I don't know about your... world. But I think you should have had more. He smiled.—Let's say I don't have a fixated menu. I value many things when I make up prices for my clients. If I happen to like them, the price goes down a lot. Because it's like they're already paying me a bit by keeping me company. I blushed. Did he just say he liked me or something?—Be honest. What was the real price? —10000 dollars. —WHAT!?— I screamed. He tapped my mouth.—Shit, woman, do you want your parents to wake up?! —Do you like me that much? He looked at me.—Please. I looked away and I nodded.—Well, that's not a problem. I like you a lot, too. I slapped myself mentally the moment I said it. I quoted the whole slang dictionary in that five seconds. My face was burning and I could feel his stare on me. How would I wrap that up? Simple. By running. I got up and ran towards the room. Unfortunately, before I could lock it up he managed to enter because he was obviously faster and stronger than me. Fuck my life. Fuck my mouth. Why did I say that? —Did you just confess?— he asked me, trapping me against the door. What kind of question was that? Dang, this boy didn't know any manners.—I didn't. I like you a lot... as a friend! You really are the best company, Jungkook. I was always a bad liar. In fact, he laughed.—You're a liar. You like me. I looked away. —A LOT!— he underlined. —Oh my God! Can you please fuck off? I want to go to bed and forget this embarassing moment forever. Thankfully it's over tomorrow. I brushed past him and headed towards the bed, totally awkward. I heard him laughing and I decided to ignore him even though I wanted to smack him. I was about to throw myself on the bed when I felt him grabbing my arm. He pulled me into his arms and... kissed me. The asshole kissed me. I pushed him away.—This is called sexual harassment! —You're so overdramatic! I was just confessing back— he justified himself. I pointed my finger at him.—Hell, no! You're going to be a man with attributes and say it straight to my face! He scoffed.—You're childish. I was acting like every man would. —Say it!— I insisted. He sighed and pinched my cheek.—Baby! I like you sooooo much!— he exagerated. Then he went back to looking at me.—You're done? I observed him.—Did you really mean it? —Yes— he said, nonchalantly.—I've had this job for years, but it never happened to me to find a client this interesting. —How do you know you like me? Are you sure you don't just... want me? Sexually speaking? —I understood there was something more when I looked at you for about twenty minutes while you were sleeping— he smiled. —Creepy— I commented. He sighed.—You really know how to ruin the moment. —I'm just jealous because your confession was so cool while mine was an awkward mess— I scratched my head. —Are you really competing over this?— he said. —Can you please shut up and come over to kiss me?— I said bluntly. He goggled and whistled.—Wow. That was really cool. I rolled my eyes and attacked him instead. Soon his t-shirt was on the floor and so were my shorts. He grabbed my ass and I insinctively smacked him. —Ouch!— he caressed his cheek.—We're about to have sex and you smack me for touching your ass? Are you serious? —That was an automatic reaction! I'm sorry!— I smiled.—Oh, I forgot to say something. —Go on, you nuisance. —I'm not really into sharing, so I hope you are aware of the fact that you will have to leave your side-job— I commanded. He smiled.—That's obvious. I'm not into sharing either. Is someone at your workplace going after you? —If I say yes will you get jealous and go rough on me?— I asked. —Are you the type to go rough?— he commented.—I think you're pretty vanilla. —I'm actually a very kinky person. But this is for you to find out— I smirked. He grabbed my hips and brought me closer to him. He placed a peck on my lips and then he looked up dramatically. —I'm so glad you're a cardiologist— he said. —Why? —Because you'll have to... take care of my heart from now on!— he laughed. I smacked him again.

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Glorfindel

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter19

Masterlist

Summary: After Daenery’s death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost without her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races.

Warnings: SMUT

Words. 2,401

A gentle kiss woke me up from peaceful slumber, opening my eyes slowly I saw the handsome face of my husband, smiling softly to me “Good-morning, Melleth nin! Did you sleep well?” his smooth voice made a shiver run down my body. I put my hand on his soft cheek, pushing some piece of his gold hair behind his pointy ear “Good-morning, my love! I’ve slept like a rock...and you?” I say, a while moving closer to him, cuddling into his warm chest “Sleep didn’t come last time... I was too anxious for today.” I could see his eyes full of fear and sorrow.

Pushing my elbow down on the bed, I look down to him “I know that today is going to be...a really an exciting day.” I grab his large hand, giving a soft squeeze “And I know that you are nervous to see your old companions...but know that I will be there with you, supporting you...After their long rest in the Halls of Mandos, I believe that they have their souls healed from all the pain and the darkness that has blind them a long time ago.” I lean down and gave him a soft kiss on his smooth lips.

He lets out a sigh and wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me down to him “Sometimes I forgot how young you are...You have the speech of a wise elf.” he says a while blowing raspberries on my neck, forcing a loud laugh to escape from me.

He pushes me on my back, caging me between his strong arms “My dragon Queen...” his voice was full of love, like his beautiful blue eyes that were looking to mine.

I cup his face on my small hands “My golden flower...” with that, I pull him down, crashing my lips into his soft ones. His kiss was gentle at first but it turned more passionate, biting my lower lip, making me gasp.

He took that opportunity and push his warm tongue inside, exploring every corner on my mouth. I moan into the kiss, running my hands on his back. I feel one of his hands runs down to my side, touching softly, he moves his kiss to my jaw and then to my neck, nibbling and sucking on the soft skin there. It’s have been a while that we had some alone time, the last time that we had some intimate time was three months ago, in Rivendell.

“Glorfindel...” I whimper his name as he sucks on my sweet spot on my neck, I move my hands down to his waist and grab the end of his shirt, pulling up. He sits back and helps me take his shirt off, revealing his pale strong chest to my violet eyes. I run my hand on his warm skin, petting softly “You are beautiful...” I whisper, almost to myself.

“Not as you, my beloved wife.” he says a while pushing the sleeves of my nightgown down, exposing my soft breasts to him. He grabs them, cupping softly in his large hands “Hello, old friends.” his smirk was huge on his lips, I giggle and punch him softly on his shoulder “Shut up...” I say a while rolling my eyes.

I push him on his back and straddled him, leaning down I kiss him hungrily. Glorfindel lets out a soft groan, making my folds wetter than they were.

I start to kiss him down his muscular body, feeling his body shiver with each kiss I give. When I reach his pants, I look up to his ocean blue eyes and smirk a little. Slowly, I undo his belt and push his pants down, seeing a bulge on his underwear. My smirk grew bigger as I saw his eyes almost black, full of lust “Let’s have a taste.” with that I grab softly his large member on my small hands and give him some pumps. Leaning my head down, I wrap my plumbs lips around his head, sucking it softly.

He throws his head back into the smooth pillows and let out a moan, running his long fingers on my silver hair, pushing softly to his cock “Daenys!... Fuck!” his voice came out almost like a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. I take more of him into my mouth, pumping the rest that I couldn’t take it on my warm hand.

Glorfindel starts moving his hips, his eyes close lost in pleasure. A moan escapes from me as I feel his pre-cum on my tongue. Gods! How I've missed his flavor.

Suddenly, he grabs me by the arms and shoves me on my back “I want us cum together, Melleth nin.” he purrs on my ear. He pushes away my nightgown and throws it to the smooth floor “No panties?” he says, smirking down to me with his golden eyebrow lifted up “I forgot them...” I giggle.

He leans down and kisses me passionately, I whimper as I feel his cock rubbing up and down on my wet folds, teasing. I bit his lower lips, hearing a growl from him “Please!... I want you!” I moan, wrapping my arms around his neck and pull him to me.

Glorfindel chuckled “As my wife wishes.” with that he thrust his large member into my wet pussy, making me let out a cry. He stays still for a while, letting me adjust to his large cock, giving me small kisses on my neck. After a while, I move my hips forward, letting him know that I was okay “Move...Please!” I whimper.

He nods and begins thrusting his hips softly, spreading a wave of pleasure on my body. He rests his forehead on mine and lets out a groan “Oh Eru! You’re so tight!” I kiss his neck, moving down to his shoulder “Harder!... Glorfindel!” my voice was full of lust and love. His thrust begun moving faster, rocking the bed, making the frame hitting on the wall. I hope no one hears us!

I bit his shoulder as I feel my orgasm coming closer. I wrap my legs around his strong waist and pull him closer to me “I..I’m close... I’m cumming, melleth nin!” I moan, my hands gripping hard on his back. He moves his hand down and I feel his fingers rubbing hard on my clit “Cum, my love!... CUM FOR ME!” those words were enough to send me into a state of euphoria, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Glorfindel lets out a small cry, his thrust becoming sloppy “OH ERU!” I feel his hot cum filling me up, painting my walls. We rode our orgasm together, moans and groans were the only sounds that I could hear in the room.

He rests his body on mine, his breath coming out in little puffs. I cuddle my face into his neck, kissing softly “I love you.” my voice came out rough from all the screaming and moaning. He wraps his arms around my waits, hugging me softly “I love you too.” he says softly.

                                                  ~~~~~~~~

After our lovely morning, we head out to Mandos Palace, with Maglor and Tyrion close behind us. King Olwë told us that he and his people didn’t desire to see the Noldor faces yet, in which I understand completely.

On our way there, we heard the sound of hooves running towards us. Glorfindel stops his horse as I and the rest do the same “What is it?” Tyrion asked from his seat behind Maglor. I look to the side and saw a group of riders walking to us, a small gasp escape from Glorfindel and Maglor. What’s going on?

The leader of the group approached us, he had beautiful blond hair, almost like Glorfindel. His face was well built, his feature was sharp like a knife and his eyes were grey like Maglor’s. Beside him was a beautiful woman, with white hair almost remind me of King Olwë.

“King Finarfin! It’s good to see you...as well your wife, Eäwen.” Glorfindel says, a while bowing his head to the couple. I and Tyrion do the same but Maglor stays looking to him with a blank face. King Finarfin looks to him “Hello... nephew.” he says with a soft voice but Maglor says nothing and looks away.

Finarfin lets out a sigh and looks to me, a soft smile on his handsome face “Lady Daenys! We have heard so much about you and your dragons.” he bows his head slowly “The news of Mandos openings his halls, letting out our old friends and family reborn again arrived in Tirion! We wish to accompany you for we desire to see our sons again.” I smile a little and nod “Of course, King Finarfin! I would love to have you with us.” I say softly.

We start walking again but a yell stops us “WAIT!” I turn back and saw a red-haired elleth running to us, Maglor eyes widened and he dismounts quickly his horse, running to the elleth “NANA!” he wraps his arms around her and pulls her to him, hiding his tears on her neck. Glorfindel walks to me and smiles “That’s Lady Nerdanel. The wife of Feanor and mother of his seven sons...She didn’t sail to middle-earth on the first age.” a small smile appears on my face, seeing the reunion between mother and son.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Nerdanel! As you may know, I'm Daenys of the House Targaryen.” she looks to me from her son’s shoulder “Lady Daenys! Nice to meet you too... I would assume that you already know why am I here.” she gives me a gentle smile...a smile of a mother. I nod “You wish to accompany us?... Well follow us along.” they return to their horses and we begin again our journey to the Halls of Mandos.

When we arrive at the two gigantic iron doors, we dismount and waited there for we couldn’t enter his halls. A warm hand grabs softly mine, I look up and saw Glorfindel with an excited smile on his face “Are you ready?” I asked, cupping his cheek softly in my hand.

He nods and kisses my palm “Yes... I can’t believe that I will see my long friends again...” as I was about to respond to him, the sound of the iron doors opening grabbed our attention. I could feel Glorfindel's body go tense as we turn to the gigantic doors, I grab his hand and give him a small squeeze.

The doors open and a sea of elves with grey robes come out, all of them looking around in awe and relief, happy to see the sun again. The first elves that went running to us were all golden-haired, three of them jump into King Finarfin, hug him and his wife tightly “Ada! Nana!” they whisper to their parents. King Finarfin and his wife sob and embrace all of their children “Finrod! Angrod! And my little Aegnor!...How I've missed you all!” he says with a gentle smile “Where is sister?” Finrod asked, looking around, trying to see her “She’s still in middle-earth, my son.” Finarfin says.

A smile forms on my face, seeing all the families reunited again. Hearing the sobs and laughter around me, all a sudden I feel Glorfindel pull away from my hand and run to the arms of a black-haired Ellon “ECTHELION!!” his voice full of happiness and sorrow. Ecthelion smiles and wraps his arms around his old friend “It’s been a long time, Mellon nin!” his voice was calm and gentle. I took a step forward, grabbing his attention, I bow my head “Hello, Lord Ecthelion! It's nice to finally meet you.” Ecthelion looks to Glorfindel in confusion “Ah! This is my beautiful wife! Daenys of the House Targaryen.” he says with a proud smile on his face, Ecthelion looks to him in awe and then to me “Oh my Eru! How in the hell you could get such a beautiful woman? With that orc face?!” a giggle escapes from as I saw Glorfindel punching his friend's shoulder.

Ecthelion grabs my hand and kisses it softly “It’s nice to meet you, Lady Daenys! I hope that this elfling isn’t giving a hard time.” another giggle falls from my lips “No, he’s a wonderful husband.” I say with a smile.

They continue joking around but a delicate hand land on my shoulder, grabbing my attention, making me turn back. My eyes widened as I saw Maglor with eight tall ellons behind him, looking to me up and down “Lady Daenys...This is my family.” his voice full happiness.

I look to them, noticing three of them had their mother’s hair color and the rest had their father’s hair but one grabbed my attention, he was the only one that had blond hair. Weird...

“Well, this is Maedhros, the first son,” Maglor says pointing to an extremely tall red-haired elf, he had a stern expression like all of them. He nods and looks around, trying to avoid any talk, “Celegorm, the third son” the blond elf took a step forward and bow his head “Hello, Lady Daenys.” his voice was deep and rough. I gave him a small bow and smile “Hello, Lord Celegorm.” then a black-haired elf took a step closer “I’m Curufin! It’s nice to meet you, Lady Daenys!” he says quickly, staying beside his older brother, Celegorm.

I return his words politely, Maglor point to the three elves standing there “Those are Caranthir and the twins, Amrod and Amras.” I smile to them and bow my head, Carathir had black hair like his father and his expression was the most stern of them all, and the twins had red hair, they walk to me and gave me a huge smile “Thank you so much for taking us out of there!” Amrod said with his twin close behind.

“No need to thank because there will be another battle that you are going to enter and for that I'm sorry.” I say, noticing everyone faces going serious.

Then a tall elf approached me with Lady Nerdanel beside him. Fëanor...

I could feel his fierce aura radiate out from him, making a ball of nervous. I took a deep breath and met his hard gaze, lifting my head high.

We stay for a while looking to each other, having a discussion with our eyes. Suddenly, a small smile appears on his lips “Shall we begin?” his voice was rich and deep.

I smirk to him and nod. This is going to be fun...

Hey Guys!! New chapter here. So what do you think? I know that my smut isn't very good but i try to improve. I hope you like it and feel free to tell what you think!!

XOXO

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