#last year she posted a story like “need someone to make a playlist of all the songs that reminds me of them” and i responded with

[strawburrymeadows]

the urge to make a playlist of all the songs that remind me of her (completely separate from the playlist i made last year of all the songs that reminded me of her but fully for her, whereas this one is for ME and i can get very very emo and sappy with it)

[lynaferns]

The Forest On The Other Side

Chapter 1: I want to go home.

Ver. [ENGLISH / SPANISH]

EDIT: This fic is now on AO3

A girl gets lost in the forest and finds a misterious gate in the middle of nowhere. At the other side she meets a... very peculiar individual who seems to only want to befriend her and play. Everything seems fine. Until night falls and someone else joins to play...

Again, I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. English is not my first lenguage and I still mess up sometimes.

This is in some way a more "joyful" story than BIOMáquina, still with its dark themes. I wrote this a year ago. By this I mean I forced myself to get it written down and ended up hating it and burning myself out. A couple of weeks ago I decided to reread it and I though it was pretty ok actually, so I edited it a bit to make it flow better. It used to be written more as a script for the comic I wanted to draw buuuut that didn't happen (cough stressed myself out cough forced myself cough don't force yourself to make content out of a hobby, a hobby is supposed to be for your own fun). I'm not completely satisfied with the final draft but I think is good enough for my first ever fic written.

I originally planned to make it a Y/N thing but that didn't last long. But I keeped the original idea of the first person POV. The Y/N stories I've read has always some narrator telling you what you do insert you in the story. I thought of making the MC the narrator, this way the reader can insert themselves like it's their story or they can read it as if someone else is telling them a story. This is also a bit limiting, since the narration is also the MCs thought process and sometimes I may skip details MC couldn't have seen.

AU, Magical forest, DCA centered, Sun fnaf, Moon fnaf, Elves Sun & Moon, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (kind of), Moon is agresive at first, Moon is also a bit of a gremlin, Protective Sun (I think), OC is a potty mouth, Female Main Character, First person, Angst.

The first post where I showed this AU and my first sketches ideas.

Tumblr archive with all of the art, ideas and anwsered asks.

Youtube Playlist which I'm pretty proud of how it turned out :] It's in a specific order but you can put it on mix.

Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers.

CW: Anxiety, Suicide ideation, Implied death, Choking, Non sexual abuse.

Wordcount: 9,700 (It's not rounded, that's literally the number Word tells me it's at lol)

Welp.

Here we are again, in the old village house (yey...). Well, 'I am', my family won't arrive to settle in for another week. They brought me here beforehand a few days ago for organizational reasons. They took a quick look inside before they left to see the state of the house, if it needed any repairs and such, and they headed back to the city. While they finish preparing everything, I take care of the house and text them messages about anything that may be needed for when they return.

We haven't been here in years, the house needs some repairs, and I'm sorry for the spiders, but it could use a deep cleaning. We can't do a deep cleaning but I have been cleaning what I can these last few days, at least so that it looks decent... at first glance.

Well, it's not like anyone is coming to visit.

It's a quiet town, until the kids from the town next door come to make a racket with their bikes. They play in our field, scare away the cats and throw cans around. They are assholes.

Anyways, the people in the village are nice. The adults I mean, the kids I used to play with, I don't get along with them anymore. Some of them aren't kids anymore, we have grown up and are going down different paths. But those who are still kids... they're still interested in the only older kid in the town who listened to them and let them do whatever they wanted, to a certain extent.

I don't want them to come looking for me to go out and play. I've been avoiding them by saying that I'm busy cleaning the house and getting it ready for when my family arrives, but I feel like interacting with them less and less. That's why I'm going out to the woods behind the house to get lost for a while, as always. The kids don't go near the forest so they won't bother me there.

There is an area for tourism and hiking but not many people come, some police cars border the forest from time to time but they never go inside. The reports of missing people in this forest have been coming in for decades, only some lost children have returned but there is no trace of any of the adults who disappeared along with the rest of the children. The areas marked with signs are safe but you can't go out of bounds unless you want to disappear with those people.

And I, who right now am alone and with no one to notice my absence if I go missing, am going to head straight to the forest. Don't you think, I don't want to disappear, I just don't like people and I usually go into the forest but I don't go too far away. As long as I see my house in the distance, I know how to return.

I grab my bag with my sketchbook and pencil case, in case I feel like drawing (probably won't) and step out to the back porch. The outer sliding metal door that protects the inner one is rusty and difficult to open. It would be better to oil it but I don't know when it will be done, considering that the broken railing has had a wooden board tied to it for years. I already sent my mother a message talking about it.

I enter the forest and start walking around. It's hot, of course, it's early summer, but it's quite noticeable after being in the cool inside the brick and stone house. That's the good thing about coming here in summer, the houses are made to stay cold inside and it's great, sometimes I even need to wear a jacket. But outside I'm dying, the trees don't provide enough shade. In fact, some trees are missing. I used to have my routes memorized but time has passed and some paths have changed, some have disappeared and others have formed. I admit that it makes me a little sad... I began to walk absorbed in my thoughts not paying attention to where I was going.

I'm walking away, I should go back. I'm not going to draw anything here anyway, and it's hotter outside than inside so I'm gonna to turn around-

I hear screams and laughter in the distance, the sound of the voices produces me an immediate disgust. It's those kids from the next door village. They must have come to 'investigate' about the disappearances or maybe they don't care and they just came to be idiots-

They're getting closer.

I don't want them to see me. God. Don't let them see me. Anyone but them. They're getting closser. Don't let them see me. I can't go back home now. They're cutting me off. Of all the people who could have found me. It had to be them. No, please. Don't let them see me. I have to go further into the forest, I can't let them see me. They're getting closer. Don't let them see me. I want to leave. I want to leave. I'm getting too far. I want to leave. I don't see my house. I want to leave. I don't see the village. I want to leave. I don't see the kids.

...

...

...

Where am I?

Fuck.

Where am I?

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

…

—

Now I'm wandering through the forest. I don't want to go back. I want to get out of here. Even though I'm walking in a straight line I feel like I'm going around in circles, and I'm not going to get out of here now. Great. I'm lost. Now what? People who get lost in this forest don't return, no one has returned except for some children.

...

I'm going to disappear.

...

For now I keep walking until something happens. Maybe there's an animal that kills people who get lost, or maybe it's a group of kidnappers, or maybe I should stop giving myself anxiety and focus on getting out of here. Maybe if I find a field or road, or even the tourist area, I'll be able to get out of here and return bordering the fores-

...

There is... colorful graffitis on the trees. Someone has painted eyes, hands, stars and more on the bark of the trees...

What's this?

I don't know where I've come to, I didn't know this was here, in the middle of nowhere in the forest. The trees have red leaves like in autumn even though summer has just started... The first thing I thought was 'climate change's fault' but there is something that stands out in the middle of this entire flat area and it is disturbing me.

In the center there is a kind of circular gate made of stones supported by roots.

Okay, maybe it doesn't sound aaaaas disturbing as, I don't know, a totem with a human figure being impaled or something, but it's giving me a bad vibe. What is this place? Who built a stone arch in the middle of everything and why?

A bird appears flying from behind me and goes through the gate, but nothing comes out on the other side... wait what? how? The bird has crossed the gate, and disappeared behind the stone arch? ...I had to imagine it, it's not possible that that happened. I approach the arch but not before picking up a rock from the ground and throwing it to the other side of the gate.

It's still there.

…

For some reason the thought of going through the gate makes me uncomfortable, so I go around it.

...

...And the rock? It's not there.

I go back and look from inside the portal.

The rock is there.

...

I look from outside. The rock is not there. I repeat this multiple times. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock... What?

Alright, this is weird, this is VERY weird.

Even though it is clear that this isn't normal, I have to go back, pick up a fallen branch from the ground and pass it through the portal. This time I don't throw it, I've grabbed a branch long enough to see it peek out from the other side of the arch.

...

Welp.

I should be seeing not only the branch, but also my hand sticking out of the side, but I'M NOT SEEING IT. OKAY. OK. ALRIGHT. IT'S CONFIRMED. THIS IS WEIRD.

I'm asleep, right? Or unconscious. I must have passed out from exhaustion from endlessly wandering through the woods and I'm delirious or something. No, wait, it can't be, in my dreams I'm not this aware of what's around me. Where am I?

A breeze begins to pass through the gate. It's getting stronger but not enough to push me. The leaves rise from the ground and float towards the portal, none slipping outside, all entering through the stone arch. Suddenly the breeze that had become wind stops. The leaves fall to the ground.

...

I look back for a moment, as if there was something behind me that could help me make a decision. Grabbing with both hands my bag strap I look back at the portal again. Okay. Alright. This is possibly the death of me. I'm going to cross. I'm going to go to the other side. I'm just one step away from crossing. I wrinkle my face and narrow my eyes before taking the last step.

...

Nothing has happened. Everything seems the same. However, I know it's not the same... Or at least it doesn't feel the same!

Well, I've already crossed. I'm gonna... keep walking, I guess, even though this is scaring me and I don't know if I'll know how to go back. For now I'm moving forward. The red leaves have disappeared several meters ago. It's starting to look like a normal forest, except for the multicolored drawings and handprints that I keep seeing on the trees. In fact, it seems like the trees are taller with every step I take. So high that I can barely see the top. I almost tripped while looking up. Whether this is the same forest I come from, I no longer know.

This was a bad idea. I just hope to find something that'll help me know where I am, a sign or the road if possible.

*cling*

...?

I hit something with my foot. There is a ball attached to a small chain on the ground. Oh, no, wait. *cling diring ding* It's a rusty bell, I think. It doesn't have the typical cross-shaped hole or slot, rather it has several holes in a pattern. It looks like it can be opened.

There's nothing inside.

?

There's nothing? But I could have sworn it had rang. I close it again and shake it.

*...*

Nothing.

I'm going to put it in the bag, it's totally a good idea. I'll think about it later, for now I'm moving on.

—

I've been walking for a while now and throughout this time I had a constant chill on the back of my neck, as if someone had their eyes on me.

*din dirring* I hear a soft tinkling in the distance.

Okay, I'm not alone, awesome, what do I do now? Do I say hi and risk the potential danger finding me? Do I ignore the sound of bells and keep moving? It's very possible that whatever made that sound is watching me right now...

“Hello?” Still nervous, I try to say hello looking around “...” “Is someone there? H-hello?”

“-HEEEEELLO!”

“AAAAAH-!” I cover my mouth with my hands as I turn to look at what the hell has greeted me back. I take a few steps back while I look at the figure of earthy and sunny tones who responded, he seems as surprised as I am, I think (with the scream I made, normal), at least it looks like he's surprised. He wears a two toned wooden mask... it looks like a sun, with a crescent moon on its right... It gives the impression of two faces merged into one... Damn, he is tall, he's almost doubles my size. He appears to have two skin tones dividing him in half, his right side being the lighter and the left darker, especially the arm, which also has a light-colored tattoo of lines representing a sun symbol that covers from the shoulder to the pectoral and to the middle of the bicep. The right arm is covered by a long fingerless glove that reaches to the shoulder and is tied around the chest. He's wearing baggy pants with leaves coming out of the waist and legs, some... cloth boots? with a long toe bending sharply and curving in a geometric swirl with a bell at the tips, a bag hangs from the waistband of his pants and falls below his hips. His chest and neck are tied by ropes decorated with hanging stones, metals and crystals, he wears a pendant that ends in a carved symbol of a crescent moon with rays. Some of the 'sunrays' on his mask have ropes tied between them holding them in place and some metal dangling. Some red ribbons along with bells hang from his wrists.

“um... Helloooooo.” He greets again, this time he lowers his tone of voice. I manage to react, I turn around and walk away. “¡ah- eh- Wait!” Nope, I'm not going to wait and see what he does with me, I'm leaving. “He-! Hey!” Nope. I quicken my pace and try to get lost among the trees, changing direction every time he appears in my vision angle. “Human? Human-! FRIEND. Can I call you friend?!” Nope, nope, nopnop, nop, nop, nope. “Friend! Hey!” God, no, god, god, no, why are you following me? “Look, I know what you're trying to look for...! And believe me, you're not going to find it~!” How are you still following me? Where do you come from? “Hey! Listen! Why don't we do something else besides running in circles!?” Noooooooooo... “There are TONS of other activities we could do! Like... HOLY MOLY, look at this stick! Do you like sticks!?” Leave me aloneee... “You aren't looking at it! Okay, alright, you don't like sticks, erm... what might be of interest to you...” If I don't look at it it doesn't exist. “Could you help me a little here?” I want to leave... “Look, no matter how much you wander around, you won't find the portal-!”

“STOP—! STOP FOLLOWING ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The sudden scream startles him again, making him jump in place. He stands completely still looking at me. I'm leaving before he gets angry.

“B-but I- ...okay.” I thought I heard him say before I left him behind.

It seems that this time he's not following me, finally... Although I'm not calm, he could still be following me and simply not be in sight. Anyway, I think I'm coming back? I hope I am. I want to find that portal as soon as possible and go back to the house- what the fu-? “WHY?”

He's there. Right where I left him. Sitting on a rock. Waiting. “...! I haven't moved from the spot!”

“Yeah- but- WHY?”

“Because I knew you were going to come back here!”

“...What?”

“Is what I was trying to tell you! You can't leave! No matter how hard you try to find the portal, it won't appear before you!” The Sunman exclaimed.

“…” I'm just about to turn around. In fact, I'm already turning around.

“N-No, wait! Please don't go!” I stop in my track and look back at him. He gets off the rock he was sitting on but remains squatting, almost at my height, a little below. I move back, keeping my distance. He puts his hands up. “Look, I'm not doing anything! I won't chase you! Just- ...don't go.”

“…”

“L-look, listen, there's no way it's going to show up! Well, not to you at least. But even if you find it back, it won't work! It only works when it wants to work.”

“...” Let's imagine that I trust what he says “Ok... and when does it want to be working?”

“...” “No idea!”

“...”

“...”

I'm about to collapse on the spot. At least he doesn't seem hostile, for now. “...” “Okay... Good... Great...” “...” “FanTAS-tic.”

“...” “You don't seem like it.”

*ಠ_ಠ* I could only look to the side in frustration in response to that. I looked back at him with concern showing on my face and grabbing the strap of my bag with both hands. “And... what... do you plan to do with me?”

He took his hand to the chin of his mask and with the other he held his elbow in a comical thoughtful pose. “MmmmnnDUN know! What do you plan to do?” He asked so nonchalantly. He ended up sitting on the ground crossing his legs. “You have a good while until the portal opens again...!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

He started swaying. The silence has become uncomfortable for a while now, but I can't organize myself on what to say, and I don't know if I trust him. I don't even know if he's human, although something tells me he's not.

“You could wait here.” He suggested, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Or anywhere else, if you want. I would recommend somewhere high like the treetops (for no particular reason)! If you're going to wait... But wouldn't that be really boring?” There was something in his tone of voice... “Being there... at the top of a tree... waiting... alone... with no friends to hang out with (can I call you a friend?). Aaall on your own until the portal opens again.” He looks aside for a moment “...” And back at me again. “With no one to be with you.” He repeats the head motion “...” “alone...” Wow... I wonder what he's implying, ahem. “Wouldn't you want to have someone...? ...Someone...keeping you company?” Yeah, yeah...

“...” I guess... “I-I guess I wouldn't want to be alon-?”

He rises to his knees. “That's what I thought! Do you want me to accompany you? Only if you want! But can I?” He clasped his hands together as if asking a favor.

“um...”

“Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?” He approaches, dragging his knees on the ground.

I'm starting to miss personal space. “Okay! Okay, alright...”

“REALLY?” He started hopping and jumping around me. “OH, ohoho hO! Great! Oh, there are TONS of things we could do! Like... Like...!” He moves faster, doing bigger and bigger flips and jumps, it almost seems that he is very light, as if the breeze of air lifted him. “We could paint and decorate trees! Or we can also paint on rocks! Or paint leaves! Or paint us! Oh! We can tell stories! I'm very good at making shadows and puppets.” He moves from place to place with each sentence he says. “We can also play something!” It's moving so fast all I can see is the wind and the leaves it stirs up as it moves. “Anything! Whatever you want!” Finally he stopped in front of me half crouched. “What do ya say?! Hmm! Friend!?”

“Don't... call me like that.” Makes me feel awkward.

“Oh...why not-? Oh true, true! How silly, I don't know your name! What do you call yourself, potential friend?”

“...”

“...” “Aren't... you gonna tell me your name?”

I twist the bag strap “Depends...” I must say I'm a little skeptical about this. “Are there any consequences for telling you my name?”

“...Consequences...?”

“Like... I don't know... Mmm-by telling you my name I become your possession and cannot regain my freedom until... certain conditions are met...”

“...”

“...”

“Why- how-? Where did you get that from!?” It did sound a bit stupid when I said it out loud.

“I dunno- that's what they say in old children's stories about elves and fairies!” I just hope the embarrassment isn't showing on my face.

“Really?” I could feel his deadpan expression behind the mask.

I shrugged.

“...” “Okay... Oh, what if I tell you my name first? Will you tell me yours? It's only fair, I'm Sun!”

“...”

“Can I know your name now?” He asked expectantly.

“...How do I know you're not trying to trick me?”

“...” I must be driving him crazy with this “The only thing I can do with your name is treasure it in my memory.” He put his hands together as if he was carefully holding something and brought them to the forehead of the mask. I gave him a distrustful look. It doesn't seem like it made him desist “Please?”

I grip at my worn out bag strap “...” “ Fern...” I ended up murmuring.

“Hmm? Fern? OH, I like it!” “Sounds like FRIEND.” He emphasized the last word by making a gesture like jazz hands, leaning to the side and moving his head closer to me.

“Yeah... I think you are missing a couple of letters.”

He straightened his posture again. “Nope, I don't think so!”

“You're still not my friend.”

“Oooowwwwwnnnnnggghhh” He lowers his head dramatically until it practically touches the ground “nnnnnnngggghh, alright!” And cartwheels to stand up again “So... what will it be?”

“Hm?”

He straightened his posture and puts his arms on his hips “We have plenty of time, ya? What do you wanna to do?”

“I don't know, what do you want to do-?” Bad mistake.

“Come with me!”

“aaAAAAA-!” Before I knew it, he had grabbed my arm and I was being dragged through the woods. We visited several places and he offered me an activity to do in each of them.

—

Sun took me to a place where the trees were full of colorful paint “We practice painting on the trees here!” He said.

“Ah.” That explains the crossed out lines and the repeated imperfect shapes. By the look of it is also where he tests the quality of the paint.

“Do you want us to paint something!?”

“Not really...”

“Oh, would you prefer it to be on a rock?”

“Nah.”

“...And in star leaves-?”

“I don't want to paint, Sun.”

“Oh... Well, I can show you more places!”

“OkayyEEEEEE-” And I'm being dragged away again.

—

He brought me to another area of the forest, the ground here seemed more leveled. Not a single tree was straight, all of them were twisted and even seemed to be hollow. “How about playing something!? Like hide and seek-! No, wait, I can’t let you out of my sight.” He mumbled at the end “And chase?! We can climb a tree and see who reaches the top first! We have a place full of vines and it's perfect for swinging- and jumping from one tree to another-!”

“I don't... really want to move a lot…” With the way he runs without getting tired and me, who doesn't exercise... he would let me dead.

“Oh... well, theeen-”

—

We arrived at a place full of vegetation and humidity. Sun seemed quite excited... “This place is full of insects! We can look for cool bugs!”

“Mmmmmnoooo... I don't want to.” I had to tell him, trying to show as little disinterest as I could.

“You don't like them?” He sounded a little disappointed hearing my reaction.

“No, I do like them, some of them, but I don't like to touch them.” And I'm terrified of them flying into my face.

“Oh, well, it's okay!” He said brushing it off and we moved on to the next stop.

—

“I know that bird!” He stopped us on the way to point at a robin high up on a branch.

“ah.” I said as I removed leaves from my hair and clothes, and checked that I still had my glasses.

“He's a little rascal!”

“...” I think the bird is making us the equivalent of 'mooning'.

—

“Look fish-! Oh, they're gone…” The noise must have scared them away “We can go find more places to look at them if you want!”

“...” “...no, pass...”

“…”

—

“Look at this stick!” Sun had suddenly sprinted past me, picked up something from the ground, and came back just as fast, showing me the stick as if it were a sword.

“oh.” It's a cool stick, must admit it.

“Do you want to look for more sticks!?”

“No...”

“oh...” He looked at the ground in disappointment.

“Why would we go looking for sticks? There are all over the ground.” Specifically, in this area the ground was all sticks. We are literally just stepping on sticks right now. I don't see the ground.

“Variety!” Sun said pointing at the ground with both hands. A branch is heard falling in the distance.

—

“That's a deer!” He pointed at the deer passing nearby. The deer stopped to look at us.

“Yeah, I see.”

“We call 'em Adoquín!”

“...Why is it called Adoquí-?”

*THUMP!*

“…”

The deer smacked itself against a tree when trying to run away. It stands still for a minute, processing the hit, looks at a side and then the other, then runs off again but this time avoiding the tree.

Another *thump!* is heard in the distance.

“...” Alright.

—

“Do you wannaaaa look for pine cones? There will be some fallen around here. Oh! We can also look for mushrooms!”

I keep saying no to everything he suggests and it doesn't look like he's going to run out of ideas to pass the time. In fact, he's very insistent that we do something. I guess at some point I'll have to say yes to something. “...” “...okay...”

“Hmm?! Okay? Okay to what?” His exaggerated surprise offends me but I don't blame him.

“To... I don't know, pine cones?”

“...You don't look very convinced.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“OKAY! On the hunt for pine cones then!” I startle a little at the sudden shout. He makes a pose pointing in a direction, as if he were leading an expedition.

He takes me through the forest looking for pine cones. We aren't finding many, especially me who's not paying any interest. He tries encouraging me to put more effort into it but I keep looking at my boots.

We passed near a shingle river. I find a pebble at my feet and bend down to pick it up and take a better look. It's like a bluish gray, it has some reddish lines in the shape of waves, it feels good to the touch.

I hear the soft tinkling of a bell and feel a shadow fall beside me. “You like pebbles?” Sun is crouched next to me with his arms full of pine cones.

“…” I nod.

We go down to the river and spend some time collecting pebbles with curious shapes or small details of colors, lines, spots, etc. He comes over to show me one every time he finds weird shapes.

“…”

*rin* This time he's hunched over resting his hands on his knees. “You look… a little down.”

“…”

“Hey... we can do something else if you're tired of the pebbles.”

“...” I drop the pebbles I was looking at on the ground.

“...” He turns his gaze from me to the sky. It hasn't gotten late enough to be getting dark, but it's been a while between the walks we've taken (dragging me from here to there), looking for pine cones and then pebbles in the river. He looks back at me. “Oh, I know! Can I take you to one last place? A better place than the ones I've shown you!”

“…” I got up from the ground and waited for him to start leading to follow him.

We enter the increasingly thick forest. The trees are taller and bigger, in fact, I start to see platforms and bridges lying between the trees, I even see small shanties in them.

“Wait here!” He takes a run and jumps onto one of the trees with bridges. He takes three steps running up the tree, with a jump he pushes himself off and climbs with agility until he reaches the platform and climbs on it. “Just a moment!” It can't be seen from here but I can faintly hear some squeaks. I have no idea of what he's doin-

*rush*

“........eh?”

A rope.

A rope has fallen. At the level of my head.

“.......”

What?

…

He said he knew a better place.

No. It can't be this.

“Is it at a good height?! Can you reach it?!” He says...

It can't be.

A better place.

He can't be referring to this.

A better place.

A better place. A better place. A better place. A better place.

“Can you put your foot in?!”

“..........” For some reason what he said throws me off. “WAT-?”

“Can you put your foot in the loop and hold on to the rope so I can pull you up!?”

“..............”

“You can't climb trees, can you?! ...or you can?"

… “...” Oh “....It's...It's too high!”

“Okay!” Squeaks are heard and the rope descends to the ground.

I put my foot into the rope as he told me and hold on to it. “O-okay...!”

“Are you ready!?”

“Yes!”

“Okay!”

He begins to pull up the rope (which doesn't tighten around my foot as it supports my weight) and helps me up to the platform. (That's what it was for, obviously, what else would he want? I'm such an...) “Come on!” He says cheerfully, as always, and takes me over the bridges. “You seem tense... Don't tell me you're afraid of heights!”

“S-something like that... it's nothing.” He tilts his head at that but he says nothing. I have an unpleasant sensation in my throat.

We arrived at a high place with a view of waterfalls, I can't see above the trees. We sat on one of the bridges, resting our arms on the rope that serves as a railing and letting our legs hang off the bridge. I've thought about taking out the sketchbook to draw... but I don't really feel like it right now, so I just quietly observe the landscape. It is a better place, yeah.

…

I feel watched. I turn to look at him ...Of course he was looking at me. I don't even know whether to say something or keep quiet. ...I decide... not to say anything and look to the front.

“You... aren't very talkative, huh.”

“…”

“Not that it's a bad thing! Many people who have come here weren't very talkative at first either.” More people...

“...” “I have… nothing to talk about.” I don't want to talk.

“...” “Well, I do.”

“…”

“If it's okay with you, of course.” He laughed. Although something tells me that he is going to talk anyway.

“…”

“...” “What brings you to the forest?”

“...” Really? “I got lost.”

“Yeah, I already know!” He says between laughs “But what made you get lost?”

“...” “There was a group of kids I didn't want to get close to and I decided to go into the woods to lose them.” He makes a 'hum' sound and looks at me expectantly waiting for me to continue “And... I ended up getting myself lost...”

“...” “Only that?”

“...” “Well, yeah.” What do you mean 'oNlY tHaT'?

“...Mmm...” He places his hand on the chin of the mask.

“...” “What?”

“Nothing!” “...” “You know? You're the first human to visit the forest in a loooong time. For several cycles now…”

“Cycles?”

“Mhm” He nods.

“...What are cycles?”

Sun points to the sky “The turns that the Moon makes in the sky!” He emphasizes by rotating his arm in the air. It's pointing right at the Moon that's visible in the sky.

“Oh...” He uses the lunar cycles to know what day he's in, makes sense. “...” “So no one has been here in a while.”

“That's what I said! Well no, but yes!”

“A-and so the humans who came are still here? Have they been here all this time?”

“Yeah...! Well, no!” He paused. “They're gone!”

“What do you mean they're-?” He didn't let me finish the question.

“They are gone! They 'left'!” It sounded like he had given this answer many times already.

“What do you mean they left-?”

“They 'left'!”

“...” “...You mean...they disappear-?”

“Nope!” “...” “Something like that!” “…” “Mmmore or less…” He hesitated between one answer and another.

It seemed worthless to ask about the missing people. “...okay.” “Can I ask you-?”

“You can ask me anything!” A hint of nervousness escaped his tone.

“...okay. What is this forest?”

“My home! And the home of many other animals.”

“...” “Alright, and... how many are you...? How many of you live here? I mean. You have taken me everywhere and we haven't seen anyone of your…” I make a pointing gesture, spinning my hand around in the air. He can't be human, it doesn't look like he is. “...” “Honestly, I don't know what you are.”

“...” “There's only me... And someone else!” He looks away, as if trying to hide something.

“Oh... and who's that someone?”

“Oh! N-no, don't worry! He’s… just a friend… But it’s not important that you meet him or anything!” He brushes it off making a gesture with his hand. “Uh-um- How about we talk about you!? huh? What things do you like? Earlier, since you said no to everything, I thought you didn't like ANYTHING!” He continued talking without letting me respond. “I didn't know what to do if I ran out of ideas. I started to worry! But at least you're not one of those who spend all day shouting and threatening with a weapon in hand, ahaha...” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Um-”

“Well, you ran away screaming, yes.” He began to gesticulate widely as he complained “Like everyone-! No, not like everyone, some don't run, but those who, apart from running and screaming, attack you...! I mean...!” Something tells me he wasn't going to shut up and I was already half listening. “First they throw rocks at my head, then they insult me and run away. And I have to run after them because I can't just leave a human running around alone! No! I can't! Not in this forest! Anything could happen to them! But they never let me warn them!” He sounded tired. “And when I get them to stop running away from me, they throw things at me again and yell before demanding me to tell them where are they and how to get out of here, and when I explain it, they yell at me even more and accuse me of lying!” He turns to look at me with his hands pointing to his chest. “What reason would I have to lie?!” I don't know if he hasn't noticed or if he's ignoring the deapan I responded with. “UGH! I don't know what to do with those! But anyhow... I'm so glad we found something to do in the end!

“eh?” I snap out of my thoughts. It seems that now he is directing the conversation to me.

“The pebbles!” He sits turning his body towards me, leaving one single leg hanging from the bridge and the other resting on it. He takes out of his pocket some of the pebbles that he had been collecting with me. “I don't know why I assumed you wouldn't want to look for rocks. Maybe because you didn't want to paint them before... You left them back in the river in the end tho, I thought you would keep some.”

“Ah... I don't know. I didn't think I could take them with me.”

“You can keep some of mine!”

“No, it's okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You suuuuure??” He insist.

“Yeees.”

He puts a pebble very close to my face “Suuuuuuuure?” Each 'u' sounding higher than the last.

“...” I push the pebble away from my face “Yeeeees.”

“mmmh... Okay! But I hope you don't regret it later when you don't have a cool rock like these and think 'Oh man, I could have a cool rock right now!'.” After a bad impression of me, he keeps the rocks in his pants. “So... Besides pebbles, what else do you like? Mm? I haven't been able to deduce much from today.”

“Don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know!? Oh! Is it a secret?” He approaches and starts to whisper, putting his hands to the mask's mouth “I won't tell anyone, promise.”

“No. I don't know.” I looked to the side. “I can't think of anything... so suddenly.”

“ooow...” He slumps a little over the railing, looking sad.

“…” I hesitate whether to say something or not “...Drawing...”

“Mmm?!” He no longer seems sad.

“And listening to music, I guess.” “It's... all I do... most of the time.”

“Really!? Oh! I also like drawing! And music! But is that really all you do all day? Don't you do other kinds of things? Like reading! Or writting. Don't you go out for a walk or play with your friends?” I wrinkle my face at that last bit and he tilts his head in confusion.

“I don't go out.” “I have comics, but I rarely read.”

“Comics?”

“Um... They are stories but instead of narrating what happens there are drawings and only what the characters say is written.”

“...It's a book with drawings?”

“Yeah, but with a lot of drawings on each page, from start to finish.”

“WOAH.” He sounded perplexed. “That's drawing A LOT.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ahh, I'd love to see what they look like.” He rested his arm on the railing to hold his head in his hand “Too bad I can't…”

“I didn't bring them anyway.”

“Do you normally carry them around?”

“No, it's just that I didn't bring them to the village with me, I left them at home.”

“...” “Oh!” It seems that something has clicked on him. “You are not from the village.”

“No, I'm from a more urban area. My family used to come to the village every year in the summer, but we stopped coming. Now it seems that we are trying to get back into the habit.” I sighed.

“Why did you stop coming?”

“...That's personal.”

“Oh... okay.” He let a minute of awkward silence pass. “Hey, I can bring some books that I have at home! I think you might be interes-!” He looks away from me to the sunset behind us, the sun is almost gone. “-ted...” I look at the sunset too and then at him with confusion. “...” “...oh...oh-OH, Oh-no!” He stands up abruptly causing the bridge to shake slightly. What could have he seen? “We have to move!” He extends a hand to help me up. “We have to start moving!”

I get up in a hurry on my own, ignoring his hand. “O-okay, to where?”

“Come, run!” Once again he grabs me by the arm and leads me over the bridges between the trees until we reach a tree hut. It's small and dark, it looks like a small shelter. He opens the door and enters “You'll spend the night here, stay inside, do not go out, try to hide well and don't open the windows or doors, okay? Here, there are some blankets. I'll come back later.”

“Wait wait wait! What? What do you mean you'll come back later? What's happening? Why do I have to hide-!?”

“Sssh-ssh-sh” He grabs me and covers my hand with his, his left hand resting on the back of my right hand. He begins to speak in a calmer tone, with a voice that I had not heard him use until now. “It's okay, nothing happens. I have to go, I'll come back, but I can't stay now. You hide, try to rest, I'll be back, I promise.”

“...” I take my hand away from his. “Okay.” “I'll stay, but don't take too long.” Please, I don't want to be here alone.

“Yes. I'll be back.” He affirmed one last time. I watch him run away and disappear among the trees and undergrowth. I enter the small shelter to inspect it.

*TAP TAP TAP* *PLOK* *TAP TAP FOOSSSH! *

…? A noise comes from behind me. I turn around and there's a pebble on the floor.

…

Okay.

I take out my phones flashlight to see better inside the house. There are what appear to be some trunks, small cabinets, and a trapdoor in the floor, It seems that there are corners and blind spots for the windows where the little moonlight that enters through the cracks cannot reach. It's freezing cold and I haven't brought my jacket. I leave the bag on the floor against the wall, I cover myself with the blanket and curl up in a ball in the most hidden corner I can find. I'm tired, I want to sleep, but I can't close my eyes.

…

—

It's been a few hours now.

…

I can't sleep, I simply can't.

…

It doesn't look like he's coming back.

*creek*

…?

*rin*

*tap tap, creek*

Sun?

“S-...” I pause before saying a word, I have the feeling I shouldn't speak. I remain silent and wait.

*tap, tap, tap, creeeeeek, tap*

*rin dirrin*

If it were Sun he would have already let me know it is him. That or he's playing a prank on me which isn't funny, but I'd better stay silent. From the shadow I look at the windows. I notice movement through the cracks, something has just passed through the wall next to me.

*dirriring dirring*

I cover myself more with the blanket, back against the wall, I stay as still as I can, I leave a gap between the blankets and the floor to see. A red glow sneaks through the cracks in the window and scans the room.

…

The glow is gone.

*tap, tap, rin, tap, dirring, tap, tap*

It's on the roof.

…

*tap, tap, tap...*

It moves again.

*rin *

…

It sounded on the other side of the wall.

…

…

“nghehe...”

It laughed. Why did it laugh? Whatever is on the other side of the wall just let out a laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck and all over my back rise.

…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no no.

I have to move. I have to get out of here. I can't stay here.

*creeek*

It came from the door. It's trying to get in.

*rin*

The trapdoor.

*rin dirring*

Where was the trapdoor?

*creek creeeek*

I crawl across the floor making the minimum noise, carefully feeling the floor, looking for the edge of the door.

*tap tap ring dirring*

…!

I found it. I open it carefully. It's too high. I'm at a very high altitude, I don't know if I'll be able to go down.

*rin, creeek...*

…

Fuck it. I slip through the gap quietly, closing it slowly, but that doesn't stop the door from creaking. I cling to the bark of the tree-

…

I left my bag. If it comes in and see it it'll know for sure that I have been there-

…

It doesn't matter now. I have to focus on getting down from the tree without killing myself. My fingers hurt and I can't put my foot down properly because of the soles of my boots. I feel like I'm going to slip at any moment. Somehow I make it to the ground. Still attached to the tree, I look up at the house. I don't see it-

…

A shadow appears from behind the tree. I press myself against the tree and hold my breath. It's looking for something. When he doesn't seem to look I move to a nearby tree, he moves to another tree, I move to the next, and the next, and the next. We continue like this until I start to get further and further away from him. When I think I've lost him I start running. I hide behind a tree to catch my breath.

…

I slowly peek out from behind the tree.

*rin*

…

It sounded above me.

…

I don't look up, I run.

“nnghehee...” He laughs.

He gives me a few seconds advantage before coming after me. The chase begins.

I run forward as much as I can, I hear his footsteps behind me but I don't look back, there's no time for that. I hear him laughing like a madman as he moves from left to right, from one tree to another, crawling on the ground, trying to confuse me, waiting for me to make the slightest mistake to catch me.

“Ah-” I trip. As soon as I fall to the ground I get up, ripping my stockings and scraping my knees, falling again, my nerves not letting me stand up.

“Nnhehehhehe...” Asshole. He has stopped running, he approaches by walking. I try to keep as much distance as my hands and legs allow me to move. I search desperately with my hand for something on the ground to throw. Finally my hand finds something.

I throw a rock at him “AGH!”

The rock passes by him, flying one or two meters away from him. He hasn't even moved, he didn't move a single muscle to avoid it, he just watches me still from where he is. I hear the nearby *pof* of the rock falling to the ground.

“...”

“...”

…

I get up and run. He grabs my leg and I fall to the ground again. He won't let me get up, every time I try he throws me to the ground. I struggle, I kick, but I don't break free from his grip. He never stops laughing, he is enjoying this. He drags me closer to him, no matter how much I twists, he doesn't let go. “ACKH-!...Hhhh-hh...-hh-h...” He grabs me by the neck, red pupils stared at me, I'm looking straight into his crescent moon mask (or waning, I don't know. Do you think I care right now?). He raises his free hand and his veins begin to glow a platinum color that extends to his fingertips. The hand approaches my face, I don't know what it's going to do to me, I'm scared, I don't want to look. I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands. I wait.

…

…

…?

Nothing's happening. It stopped. Why?

“Mun, nïe.” I hear Sun's voice. I open my hands a little to see what's going on. Indeed, it is Sun, several meters away from us... He looks exhausted. The one with the moon mask stares at him for a moment, until he decides to look at me again while bringing his glowing veiny hand closer. “¡Mun!” The Moonman looks at Sun again “Fehreh.” He seems to speak another language, I don't understand what he says.

“...” “Nïe” For the first time I hear him say something else besides laughing. Even though I can't understand him.

“Fïer pehgïer.” Sun responds.

“...” Moonman remains silent again.

“Bïelïe óubseh góuh...” Sun continues.

“Móu txehb móunsuvïe.” The Moon responds.

“Lïe bóu ¿Sóundïe mïesugïeb fehreh nïe txehtehrlïe?”

…

The air feels tense. Probably because of the hand grabbing my neck.

“¿Zkaóu fuóunbehb txehtóur tkaehnvïe nïe bóueh mehb zkaóu ïesreh rehuh óunsóurrehveh óun leh suóurreh?” Longest sentence I've heard him say so far.

“...” “Fïer óubseh góuh.” “...” “Vóuyehmóu óuntehrdehrmóu vóu óulleh” Sun takes a step forward “Nïe suóunóu fïer zkaóu ehtehkehr ehbu” Another step forward “Nïe sóunóumïeb fïer zkaóu txehtóurlóub... óubsïe” Another step “Óullïeb bïelïe óubsehn... fóurvuvïeb.”

“...” There's no response from the moon man.

“Behkehb tïemïe óub óubïe.”

“...”

…

The hand that grabbed my neck now grabs my shirt and yanks it. I grab his wrist as he pulls me to my feet and drags me to Sun, making me stumble. He throws me against him. Sun catches me before I fall over.

“Ska óubpkaóurhïe óub óun gehnïe.” The moon says something as he walks past. Sun puts a hand on his shoulder before letting him go, there's a pause between the two. The Moonman disappears into the trees. Wind and leaves are heard passing by.

…

He's gone. I feel dizzy. I fall down.

—

…

…

…

A faint light begins to seep through the cracks, illuminating enough to wake me up and make me open my eyes, I look around. I see my bag propped against the wall. I'm at the shelter where Sun left me.

…

My body aches, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open, it feels like I've been sleeping on the hard floor. No, wait, there are some blankets underneath me... It's still too hard to sleep well, either that or as I said, it shouldn't help me at all that everything hurts. After a while of staring at the ceiling I try to sit up. I emphasize trying. With every slight effort a pained moan escapes me.

“Oof...” Hurts.

*creek, tap tap tap tap*

Those wood creaks bring back bad memories from last night (which by the way, I'm alive, wow, I just realized), I can't help but cringe at every noise, I hear footsteps approaching, I try to move but the stinging pain prevents me from it.

*creek... *

The door opens.

Triangular shapes appear through the door followed by orange earth tones. “…Oh…!” “Early bird!” Thank god it's Sun and not the other one, or something worse “I didn't expect you up this early!” He says laughingly.

“ah?”

“How are you feeling?” He walks in. When he sets foot inside I lean back, towards the wall. “...” I don't really know why I did that. Sun stands at the door showing confusion with his usual head tilt. “...Arrr...re you okay, Fern?”

“...” I became tense suddenly. I really don't know still if I can trust him? He hasn't done anything to me yet but that doesn't mean that I can trust him. I don't know if he plans to do something with me like whatever that other one, the moon one, was going to do last night. “...ehh...hhh...h...” I can't get a word out, I'm afraid to ask.

“Mm?”

“...” I don't know what to say to him. My eyes go somewhere else.

…

He enters further into the house, ignoring that I keep my distance from him, leaves a bag he was carrying on the floor and begins to open the windows, letting in the little light of the dawn that is just beginning. He kneels on the floor in front of me with the bag. “Are you hungry?” He opens the bag and takes out an apple “Do you like apples?”

“...”

“No?”

“...”

“Um... I also brought berries... (It's what I had on hand coming here) There are... different types, you can choose” He brings the bag closer to me. I move further away. “uhhh...”

“...” I want to leave.

“You don't like them either...?”

“...” I don't want to eat. I want to leave.

“...”

“*snif... *”

“u-um...!”

“...*snif* *sob*...” I started crying out of nowhere.

“Ahhh...! D-do- don't cry! Ah-I-Um- Ca-can go find other things you might like-!”

I felt ashamed for crying and I put my hands to my face trying to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. “*hic, sniff, snif *” I looked away in an attempt to cover my face. I ended up looking at the floor, letting my hair act as a curtain.

“I can go in a moment!” Sun was already getting up.

“...w-want to leave...” I managed to get a murmur out.

“...W-what? Um...”

“...” *hic, hic *

“O-okay, um... If you aren't hungry... -we can do something else- uh- we can go look for rocks like yesterday in the river!”

“...” I don't want to do anything “...want to leave...”

“O-or we can do something else! Ah-bah-b-b-b- W-won't you like to go draw??! Somewhere, some landscape?! Wherever you want! We can draw together! If you prefer we can look for animals instead of landscapes!”

“...leave...want to...go... *hic, snif *”

“¡D-don't n- uh! ¡L-let's... um- let's not- uh!” He no longer knew how to order his words “H-hey, ¿Why don't we go to-?” He extends his hand towards my arm.

“I want to go home...”

He stops before touching me and removes his hand. “...” “...home?” There is a pause. He remains silent and unmoving. He finally speaks “Do you want…?” His tone became more serious.

“...”

“...to... go see the portal?” I look up slightly, I can't see through the tears and the fogged lenses of my glasses.

“...” I nod my head.

—

…

We didn't walk far until the red began to become visible. He brought me back to the portal. The same plain of red leaves and stone arch in the center of it all, as yesterday.

…

Sun has been quiet the entire time.

He advances towards the portal and stands facing it. He turns. “Come.” He extends his hand towards me. “You can pass through.”

“...”

I advance towards the portal. I stop before crossing. If it doesn't take me back home, what do I do? I don't want to stay.

A breeze begins to come out of the portal. The breeze turns to wind, the leaves rise, they pass through us. It's the same thing that happened yesterday when I went to cross. I turn to face Sun. Motionless, he looks back at me, the leaves pause in the air for a second as if time has stopped, the wind changes. From where the wind and leaves came now they come in, they push me towards the portal. I finally cross it.

…

Am I in the forest I know? I turn to look at Sun who stayed behind in the portal. “...Sun?” He's not there. I look around. He's not here. I've already crossed the portal, he must have left.

I notice a sudden draft pass by me. It's soft, like someone walking past you. I turn towards the forest, I have to start moving, I don't want to be here another minute.

...The air current that I noticed has lifted some leaves, they reach the trees, between them the wind does something strange, it forms a transparent silhouette. It looks like Sun, I can barely see him but I could swear it's him. The wind figure raises its hand and makes a gesture, it wants me to follow it. When I approach it turns around and walks into the forest, leaving a trail of leaves behind it. I follow the trail of the air current. Sometimes it stops to look at me, making sure I'm still following it. The red-leafed trees and the paintings disappear from view the farther we go. We crossed the forest until we arrived at the entrance of the town, near my house. There is no one on the street. If I walked into the house and pretended nothing had happened, officially no one would have noticed my absence.

I'm not one hundred percent sure if the wind figure that guided me is Sun or not, but I should at least thank him for bringing me back.

…

The air current has dissipated before I turn around. I look around, there's no one.

…

…

…

I enter the house, go up to my room and throw the bag on the floor. I go to the bathroom to wash. …I feel something strange in my hands but I couldn't say what. Doesn't matter. I change my clothes and get into bed, the tiredness of the previous night makes my body succumb immediately and I fall asleep instantly.

—

…

…

…

“ah...!” I wake up with my lungs begging for air. I need a moment to calm my breathing. I look at the clock without lifting my head from the pillow.

…

It is 12 midday. I rub my eyes and from my eyes I move to my face. I'm still tired. My body still aches. I stare at the ceiling.

…

My bag. I reach out to pick it up from the floor, making strange positions so as not to get out of bed.

I open it and search in the pockets. The bell. I put the bell to my ear. “...” I shake it.

*rin, diring diring*

“...”

I open it.

…

It's empty.

[lewmagoo]

six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea. 

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!” 

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail. 

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice. 

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal. 

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail. 

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits. 

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow. 

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered. 

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes, 

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part. 

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it. 

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face. 

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend. 

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go. 

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there. 

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held. 

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have. 

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms. 

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin. 

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer. 

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate. 

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer. 

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures. 

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace. 

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present. 

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you. 

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together. 

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval. 

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked. 

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted. 

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do. 

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound. 

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door. 

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts. 

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first. 

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either. 

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case. 

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands. 

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight. 

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa. 

Something was wrong. You knew it. 

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too. 

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off. 

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied. 

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you. 

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her. 

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself. 

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day. 

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out. 

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless. 

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby. 

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love. 

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past. 

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him. 

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were. 

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation. 

Until now. 

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself. 

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone? 

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP. 

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters. 

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new. 

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump. 

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed. 

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own. 

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. 

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck. 

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 

It sent a burning ache through your chest. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years. 

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.” 

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered. 

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t. 

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all. 

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. 

He looked like a man. 

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten. 

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern. 

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him. 

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting. 

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour. 

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat. 

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning. 

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp. 

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage. 

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm. 

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk. 

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to. 

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago. 

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now. 

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it. 

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance. 

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms. 

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once. 

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from. 

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand. 

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time. 

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp. 

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway. 

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response. 

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt. 

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once. 

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all. 

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it. 

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside. 

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall. 

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again. 

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little. 

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated. 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that. 

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room. 

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same. 

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley. 

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back. 

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you. 

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room. 

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine. 

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.” 

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting. 

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare. 

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come. 

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man. 

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!” 

It was Bob, you realized. 

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.” 

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff. 

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you. 

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod. 

“Good.” 

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might. 

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you. 

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor. 

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands. 

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well. 

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

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taglist (tagging those who showed interest; if you want to be added let me know)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8

[sundrop-writes]

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The joke's on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie,the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: Another re-post of a fic I really, really love. This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it’s very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don’t know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines ‘I’m the kind of kid that can’t let anything go, and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and split your throat’ and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations’.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve’ and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can’t. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n’s feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight. 

Until she met you. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you. 

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice. 

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers. 

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you. 

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you. 

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you. 

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own. 

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help. 

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first. 

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.” 

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!” 

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay. 

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly. 

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones. 

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.” 

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it. 

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so. 

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it. 

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace. 

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him. 

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone. 

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly. 

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her. 

Your reaction was the worst part. 

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man. 

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie. 

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie. 

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical. 

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point. 

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise. 

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face. 

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first. 

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful. 

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him. 

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests. 

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment. 

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it. 

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you. 

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up? 

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling. 

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away. 

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off. 

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that. 

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it. 

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed. 

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed. 

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people. 

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again. 

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself. 

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you. 

You smiled when you looked up and saw her. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.” 

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words. 

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again. 

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-” 

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?” 

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter. 

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.” 

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain. 

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you. 

Ellie shook her head vigorously. 

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it. 

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.” 

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears. 

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?” 

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely. 

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.” 

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else. 

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed. 

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you. 

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses. 

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was. 

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness. 

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards. 

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight. 

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her. 

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing. 

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’ 

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her. 

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door. 

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified. 

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her. 

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly. 

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger. 

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was. 

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves. 

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.” 

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible. 

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-” 

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat. 

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive. 

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-” 

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob. 

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet. 

You refused to answer. 

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now. 

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you. 

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.” 

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly. 

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain. 

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.  

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-” 

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner. 

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance. 

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed. 

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.” 

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived. 

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head. 

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you. 

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking. 

You remained painfully silent. 

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.” 

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.” 

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison. 

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival. 

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.” 

Ellie was downright insulted at this. 

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words. 

You found it difficult to believe her. 

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch. 

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.” 

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy. 

She wouldn’t have to. 

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand. 

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help. 

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.) 

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned. 

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him. 

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice. 

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel. 

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out? 

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch. 

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck. 

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan. 

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…” 

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help. 

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind. 

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you. 

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort. 

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.” 

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment. 

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly. 

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers. 

“Ask me.” She told you. 

You both knew what it meant. 

‘Ask me for my help.’ 

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’ 

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out. 

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.” 

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.” 

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor. 

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.” 

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in. 

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine. 

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’. 

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault. 

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out. 

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought. 

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard. 

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork. 

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal. 

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.  

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement. 

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere. 

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case. 

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol. 

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented. 

Clearly, it was too many pills. 

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many? 

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself. 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented. 

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied. 

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled. 

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink. 

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.” 

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this. 

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on. 

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her. 

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip. 

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place. 

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal. 

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him. 

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it. 

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation. 

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend. 

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked. 

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you. 

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden. 

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold. 

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them. 

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower. 

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her. 

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone. 

But she was firm in her convictions. 

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod. 

He nodded back and then closed the basement door. 

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling. 

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam. 

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away. 

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action. 

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool. 

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily. 

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!” 

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say. 

In regards to the question, she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.” 

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was. 

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her. 

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over. 

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly. 

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly. 

“Fuck you!” He choked out. 

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained. 

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool. 

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.” 

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him. 

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?” 

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him? 

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation. 

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.” 

“What’s option three?” He asked. 

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable. 

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for. 

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.” 

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked. 

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.” 

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-” 

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue. 

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways. 

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-” 

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him. 

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there. 

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him. 

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself. 

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh. 

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake. 

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress. 

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.” 

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-” 

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it. 

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation. 

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths. 

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity. 

“Okay.” He finally agreed. 

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to. 

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do. 

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt. 

It was about keeping your conscience clean. 

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again. 

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic. 

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head. 

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words. 

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.” 

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away. 

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you. 

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked. 

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door. 

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside. 

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you. 

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.” 

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you. 

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-” 

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands. 

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.” 

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request. 

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. 

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?” 

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town. 

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied. 

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel. 

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it. 

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.” 

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you. 

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life. 

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.” 

… 

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’. 

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not. 

… 

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom. 

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you. 

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow. 

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.” 

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun. 

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them. 

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued. 

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound. 

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her. 

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound. 

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself. 

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked. 

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time. 

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy. 

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask about a sequel or a continuation for it, because there won't be one. If you liked it and you want to comment on it, please comment on the body of work that I have written. Or feel free to check out the many other works I have written on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!

[tenpintsofsundrop]

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The jokes on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Empty another bottle - and let me tear you to pieces. This is me wishing you into the worst situations. I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go, But you wouldn't know a good thing, if it came up and slit your throat.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link | Abby Version

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to go over to my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie, the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it's very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don't know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines 'I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go, and you wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and split your throat' and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations'.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve' and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can't. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n's feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight. 

Until she met you. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you. 

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice. 

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers. 

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you. 

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you. 

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you. 

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own. 

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help. 

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first. 

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.” 

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!” 

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay. 

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly. 

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones. 

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.” 

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it. 

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so. 

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it. 

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace. 

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him. 

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone. 

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly. 

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her. 

Your reaction was the worst part. 

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man. 

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie. 

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie. 

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical. 

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point. 

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise. 

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face. 

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first. 

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful. 

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him. 

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests. 

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment. 

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it. 

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you. 

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up? 

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling. 

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away. 

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off. 

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that. 

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it. 

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed. 

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed. 

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people. 

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again. 

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself. 

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you. 

You smiled when you looked up and saw her. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.” 

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words. 

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again. 

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-” 

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?” 

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter. 

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.” 

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain. 

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you. 

Ellie shook her head vigorously. 

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it. 

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.” 

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears. 

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?” 

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely. 

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.” 

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else. 

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed. 

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you. 

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses. 

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was. 

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness. 

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards. 

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight. 

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her. 

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing. 

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’ 

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her. 

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door. 

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified. 

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her. 

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly. 

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger. 

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was. 

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves. 

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.” 

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible. 

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-” 

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat. 

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive. 

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-” 

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob. 

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet. 

You refused to answer. 

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now. 

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you. 

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.” 

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly. 

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain. 

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.  

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-” 

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner. 

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance. 

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed. 

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.” 

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived. 

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head. 

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you. 

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking. 

You remained painfully silent. 

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.” 

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.” 

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison. 

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival. 

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.” 

Ellie was downright insulted at this. 

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words. 

You found it difficult to believe her. 

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch. 

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.” 

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy. 

She wouldn’t have to. 

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand. 

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help. 

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.) 

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned. 

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him. 

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice. 

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel. 

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out? 

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch. 

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck. 

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan. 

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…” 

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help. 

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind. 

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you. 

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort. 

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.” 

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment. 

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly. 

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers. 

“Ask me.” She told you. 

You both knew what it meant. 

‘Ask me for my help.’ 

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’ 

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out. 

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.” 

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.” 

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor. 

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.” 

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in. 

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine. 

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’. 

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault. 

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out. 

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought. 

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard. 

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork. 

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal. 

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.  

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement. 

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere. 

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case. 

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol. 

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented. 

Clearly, it was too many pills. 

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many? 

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself. 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented. 

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied. 

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled. 

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink. 

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.” 

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this. 

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on. 

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her. 

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip. 

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place. 

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal. 

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him. 

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it. 

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation. 

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend. 

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked. 

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you. 

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden. 

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold. 

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them. 

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower. 

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her. 

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone. 

But she was firm in her convictions. 

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod. 

He nodded back and then closed the basement door. 

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling. 

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam. 

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away. 

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action. 

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool. 

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily. 

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!” 

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say. 

In regards to the question, she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.” 

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was. 

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her. 

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over. 

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly. 

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly. 

“Fuck you!” He choked out. 

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained. 

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool. 

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.” 

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him. 

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?” 

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him? 

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation. 

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.” 

“What’s option three?” He asked. 

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable. 

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for. 

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.” 

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked. 

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.” 

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-” 

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue. 

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways. 

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-” 

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him. 

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there. 

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him. 

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself. 

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh. 

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake. 

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress. 

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.” 

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-” 

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it. 

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation. 

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths. 

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity. 

“Okay.” He finally agreed. 

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to. 

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do. 

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt. 

It was about keeping your conscience clean. 

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again. 

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic. 

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head. 

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words. 

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.” 

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away. 

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you. 

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked. 

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door. 

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside. 

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you. 

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.” 

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you. 

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-” 

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands. 

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.” 

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request. 

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. 

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?” 

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town. 

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied. 

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel. 

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it. 

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.” 

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you. 

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life. 

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.” 

… 

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’. 

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not. 

… 

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom. 

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you. 

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow. 

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.” 

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun. 

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them. 

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued. 

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound. 

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her. 

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound. 

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself. 

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked. 

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time. 

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy. 

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 18

you're dreading the meeting in LA, but it's a big city. you're not gonna bump into jungkook, are you?

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend's brother ✨ playlist | ✨ if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: naurrrr--this means the series will be ending soon, but yesss---jk and oc will finally come face to face after a year apart! how will it go down? what's gonna happen? 👀 ✨ a/n 2: thank you to those who have sent in words for the little game. those words will be in bold throughout the rest of the chapters. we still have a podcast episode to celebrate the end of this story and you'll be able to send in questions and comments (a form link will be up when i post the last chapter :')) i'll also have a survey for y'all too :) as always, please leave a like, reblog, send an ask. i'd love to hear your thoughts.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ drabble ~ dream bigger, darling

chapter eighteen ~ you're seeing things, aren't you? | wc: 10.9k warnings: there will be a lot of talking, mild language, oc’s friends being loveable dummies, light insecurity, heart flutters, language, drinking, sleazy slimeballs, some touching, a slap to the face, unresolved feelings, insecure jk & oc, bamie is hereeee, love confessions, our babies are growing up and taking things slow, they both get on their knees (you'll understand why when u read), delicate first kiss that turns into a heated one, they're both h*rny but remember they're taking thing slow, smol erection bc hello they're together again, jk is tame and controls himself?? (WHUTTTT) but oc needs a lil bit more from him, bittersweet goodbyes (for now)

The impending meeting was coming up at the end of the week. Your agent, Jae, wouldn't take no for an answer and immediately responded to the Netflix executive, saying you’d take the meeting. If the meeting was anywhere else in the world, you wouldn’t hesitate, but the fact that you had to fly out to LA for this made you feel reluctant.

And when everyone heard you’d be in LA, the only topic of conversation was if you were planning to see he-who-must-not-be-named.

"Will you tell Jungkook you're in town?" Hyunie asked as she cut through her French toast covered in Nutella and strawberries. Taehyung leaned over to take a bite from her fork, but she refused to let him have any.

Yoongi sat, wavering his fingers together. “Oh—the plot thickens. Dun, dun, dun.”

He’d become too comfortable knowing your business and complained that he knew too much for his own good. He was cool with you, but his lifestyle was too chill to mesh with everyone else’s dramatics, including yours. Though he works in the movie business, that didn’t mean he wanted his life to be like a goddamn drama.

“Wouldn’t that be weird? To meet up with an ex?” you asked with reluctance as you searched your friend’s faces for any words of advice.

It’d be nice to catch up, you thought, but what if old feelings resurface? Then what? You’d be screwed and have to start from square one again. You had gotten too far to return to the sad, pathetic person you once were.

Hyunie interjects, “Of course not! You’re friends too.”

You deadpanned. “I haven’t spoken to him in over a year–and I’d hardly call us friends.”

Honestly, could you even go back to being just friends? How were you supposed to be friends with your ex-slash-best-friends-little-brother? How can anyone return to being just friends after being with someone like Jeon Jungkook? You could hardly keep your friends now and then to add an ex as a friend? It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

With a mouth full of strawberries, Tae threw in his two cents. “Just go see him. What’s the worst that can happen? You gonna sleep with him?” He smirked and grabbed another bright red strawberry. This conversation amused him for days, making smart comments and occasionally alluding to what the two of you used to have.

“Really, Tae?” You rolled your eyes, sipping your coffee. You’d like to think you had some kind of self-control.

“What? I’m just being realistic here. The two of you probably have all that pent-up sexual frustration, and who knows—you might not be able to contain yourselves if you’re in the same room.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows and then bit down his bottom lip, thrusting and slapping the air while in his seat. Hyunie elbowed him in his rib, causing him to groan at the pain. She whispered something indistinct to him, and the two bickered quietly.

You turned to Yoongi. He was always wise and had the right answers. “What should I do?”

You interrupted him just as he was about to sip his coffee. His lips thinned, and he stared blankly at you. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re the most unbiased person here, and you don’t know Jungkook like we do.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. Do whatever you want. If you want to see him, go see him. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

Everyone turned their attention to you, wondering how you’d respond. It wasn't as simple as Yoongi had said. The weight of your previous relationship with Jungkook wasn’t one where you could simply put it behind you and pretend like you could be friends again. There was too much history, too much hurt—just too much of everything. You tried to convince yourself for months that there were no more feelings.

And you had made so much progress, minus being upset when you heard he was in town—but regardless, you had moved on, and seeing Jungkook again could set you back a few steps.

Yoongi set down his knife and fork and turned to you. “You’re a big girl, and you’ve worked through a lot of things, and if you don’t think you can handle seeing him again, then don’t put yourself in that situation. I'm sure he’d understand.”

“Or—or—you could just fuc—”

Hyunie covered Taehyung’s mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. “Don’t listen to my crazy husband. Do what you think is best for you, okay?”

After brunch with the crazy lovebirds, you sat in Yoongi’s car, staring aimlessly out the window, and said nothing the entire car ride.

As he pulled up to your apartment complex, you needed to ask him again. “Tell me the truth. What would you do in my position?”

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. He knew you needed reassurance, but honestly, there was no right answer for this situation.

“Well, considering that I’ve gotten to know you over this past year, I'd say that it’s gonna eat at you day and night if you don’t reach out to him. You’ll wonder, ‘what could’ve been’ or ‘what if I did X, Y, and Z?’ You’re good at compartmentalizing, but I have a feeling ten years down the line, you’re gonna be upset at yourself. So, I don’t know, as I said earlier if you want to see him, go see him. If you don’t, then don’t. Whatever you choose will be the right decision.”

But what was the right decision? You thought of all the possible scenarios that could play out. What if you call to meet up, and he doesn’t want to? Or what if you meet up and it’s awkward? Or what if you meet up and old feelings resurface?

You were thankful for Yoongi and glad he could always be honest with you. With his advice in consideration, along with everyone else’s minus Kim Taehyung’s, you pondered your next move as you tossed and turned in bed.

Should you try and meet up with Jungkook? But you were doing so well. You had deleted his number, photos, and texts, and if you wanted his new number, you’d have to ask Yuna, and you wouldn’t hear the end of it from her if you did.

Maybe it’d be easier to just not try to see him. You were sure he was doing well, living in LA, doing whatever he was doing, seeing whomever he wanted. You just didn’t want to return to feeling insecure and vulnerable, and you had worked so hard to be where you are today. Maybe it’d be better if you didn’t tell him you were in town.

A non-stop flight from Seoul to LA was close to eleven hours, but you wished it was longer. The lower the flight time, the higher your anxiety rises. Los Angeles was a big city, and there was no way you’d bump into Jungkook, right? That’s a ridiculous thought to have. You’d have a higher chance of bumping into a celebrity than your ex. You were just psyching yourself out at this point, and there was no need to because you decided not to tell him you’d be in town.

After eleven hours on a flight and only six hours of sleep, you hoped you’d bump into no one. Your swollen ankles and puffy eyes were horrendous for anyone to see. But here you were—in Los Angeles, where many dreams came to fruition or never saw the light of day, and you were hoping for the latter, whatever that dream may be. You were curious about what Netflix had to offer and if it would require you to move here. Though, you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, thinking about the what-ifs because nothing was set in stone.

Being a huge corporation, Netflix paid for everything—the flight, hotel, and transportation. Not too shabby, especially since they were trying to woo you into whatever job this was. They booked a corner suite at the Conrad Los Angeles, overlooking the city's skyline. The hustle and bustle of city life were similar but different from Seoul and could possibly be a place where you’d have to get used to.

The luxe Mercedes Benz E-Class you were sitting in pulled up behind the slew of cars from other hotel guests. This felt too fancy from anything you were used to, but you weren’t complaining.

You bid your driver farewell and thanked them as he pulled your luggage from the trunk and set it beside you. Just as you grabbed the handle, a driver behind you honked, gesturing for you to move out of the way. You jumped back, your heart racing as the loud horn continued in short outbursts until you stepped onto the hotel’s sidewalk.

God, this city sucks already, you thought, and you hadn’t even been here for that long, either. Brushing off the awful interaction, you breathed a big breath, ready to take on whatever this trip had in store for you.

“Miss? I’ll need a form of ID and a credit card to put on file.”

You handed what the front desk receptionist needed from you. Now, you understood all the buzz and why this was the hot spot. The hotel was gorgeous and a great place to hang out, even if you weren’t a guest.

As the receptionist input your information, your eyes scanned the lobby, taking everything in. A rowdy group of men exited one of the hotel restaurants, entering the lobby. You noticed a man in a monochromatic cream-colored outfit. You appreciate a man who was put together.

After catching a glimpse of him, you could’ve sworn your eyes were deceiving you. No, it wasn’t him. You were seeing things, weren’t you?

This city was far too big for you to end up at the same hotel as your ex-boyfriend, right? Destiny was definitely being a prude and playing tricks on you.

“Here’s your ID and card back. You’re located on the 16th floor, room 1613.”

“Thank you.”

When you grabbed your ID, card, and luggage, you turned around to ensure you were imagining things. The group of men had disappeared and was nowhere to be found. But you shouldn’t be looking for Jungkook anyway. You decided not to tell him you were in town. Wouldn’t you look pathetic going back on your word?

But instead of going directly to your room, you might have ‘taken the long route,’ cruising through the hotel—just to see what they had to offer. Though, who were you kidding? That person definitely looked like Jungkook! Except he had longer hair, and you hadn’t seen any recent photos of Jungkook, so you had no idea if he had shaved his head or had long, glorious hair like Rapunzel.

You would’ve lurked longer, but now you felt super creepy and stalker-ish, and your large rollaway luggage wasn’t helping either. Maybe it was time to give up; you had been looking longer than you should’ve.

If there was one thing that could possibly make up for the shitty interaction from the furious man honking away like there was no tomorrow—it was the view. The city skyline and clear blue skies with only a few scattered marshmallow-type clouds floating around.

The room was too big for just one person, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself to kill time before your big meeting. So, you quickly freshen up to roam around the five-star hotel. You had nothing better to do, save for the fact that you needed to find that guy again, just to make sure it wasn’t Jungkook.

And as you expected, this hotel was packed with people. The restaurant's decor and view were stunning, to say the least. You didn’t want to keep going back and forth between the various choices of restaurants, so you stuck with the first place you saw, Agua Viva.

A small commotion turned your head; your eyes focused on it for a split second before returning your attention to the host. You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. Yes, a seat at the bar is great. Thank you.”

You scanned the drink menu, pondering the various choices before you. Alcohol or no alcohol—such a hard decision. Well, considering you were going to an important meeting, it was probably best not to be tipsy, or it could calm your nerves.

“Hello, miss. What’ll you have?”

It was a toss-up between the Tornup Tiki Punch or Flamingo Shuttle. What silly names they were.

“I’ll have a Flamingo Shuttle, please.”

Non-alcoholic it is.

“One Flamingo Shuttle coming right up.”

You tapped on the square napkin before you, swiveling your chair back and forth, taking in the surroundings of light laughter and chatter, before returning your attention to the bartender making your drink.

In a city of 3.8 million people, it was stupid to think you had seen Jungkook. Maybe you just wanted it to be him and desperately tried to speak it into existence. You probably had a better chance of bumping into a Kardashian than Jeon Jungkook.

“Is this seat taken?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to confirm your suspicions about the familiar voice.

It’s like time stood still; everything and everyone quieted down, and it was only you and him. He was like a stranger from a different lifetime staring back at you, but everything you felt while with him came rushing back like a flood.

“Jungkook.” His name rolled off your lips in a familiar way you couldn’t explain. It had such a hold on you, pulling you right back like a lovesick puppy.

“Noona,” he said with his big brown, doe eyes crinkling in the corner, along with a bunny smile.

The one word made you clench around nothing, but it’s just a word–what’s wrong with you? Honestly, woman.

“Is this seat taken?” He repeated, making you come back to reality.

“No, it’s yours if you’d like.”

You watched his every move. His hand held your stool, and his thumb lightly brushed against your back as he sat down. Immediately, you straighten your posture in case of any other accidental touches.

Jungkook crossed his arms on the counter, turning to you. The both of you smiled awkwardly, waiting for someone to say something.

“I thought I saw you,” the both of you said in unison and chuckled after.

“It’s me,” you scrunch your nose, flashing a smile.

Jungkook shook his head, copying your smile. “I thought I was going crazy for a split second. Wha–” he paused to let his mind catch up with his words. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a meeting.”

He nodded. “Oh. It must be an important meeting if you flew all the way out here.”

You hummed. “Yeah, it’s pretty important.”

Should you spare more details? Or just leave it at the bare minimum? You didn’t want him to conjure up any ideas as you had been for the last few weeks.

“Your Flamingo Shuttle, miss. Would you like to bill it to your room?”

“Yes, please.” If Netflix was paying, you were drinking.

You lightly groaned after taking a sip, not realizing you’d been thirsty after flying all day, or was it Jungkook’s presence making you feel suddenly parched?

“Anything for you, sir?” The bartender asked Jungkook, to which he shook his head no.

“It’s good to see you,” Jungkook said as the bartender left to attend to another guest.

Your crossed leg unintentionally touched his pant leg when you turned toward him. You took your time letting your eyes gaze over this new Jeon Jungkook. His permed hair had grown longer, and a fringe was swept softly across his left eye. The piercing that adorned his eyebrow had disappeared, and the only thing decorating that pretty face was a lip piercing.

“It’s really good to see you too. You look great, by the way. I love the long hair. It really suits you.” You couldn’t help but wonder how his hair would feel entangled between your fingers.

He proceeded to touch the ends. “Thanks. You–you always look great,” he chuckled lightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment as you suppressed a smile. “Thanks. I–um, do you have time to catch up? If you’re not busy, that is, but if you are, then please feel free to go. I don’t–I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“I have some time,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes and his tiny dimple on display.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as you made it in your head. You were overanalyzing nothing. Jungkook seemed happy to see you, even though you thought he’d be running in the other direction, considering he had left on a whim.

“Um, do you work around here?”

“Yeah, I was just getting some early drinks with my colleagues.”

Your mind immediately went to Alex, which you fucking hated, but you couldn’t help it. Obviously, she wasn’t with the group of him and rowdy men, but you assumed they still worked together, and who knew in what kind of capacity–or maybe she had him eating in the palm of her hands again.

You stopped the ongoing conversation in your head. It wasn’t good for anyone if this continued.

“This is a great place. I can see why you’d come here.” He hummed in agreement. “How–how are you? How’s everything?”

Jungkook cleared his throat, interlocking his hands together, light tapping his thumb on the other. “It’s good. I’m—good. Work has been going well. I, uh—I’ve taken up running along with boxing, but Bam–he’s a handful.”

“Bam?”

“Yeah! My dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“He’s still a pup, but he’s getting so big already.” Jungkook pulled his phone from his back pocket, scrolling to find a photo of Bam. “See.” He set his phone on the counter, pushing it to you.

“Oh, my god. He’s precious! He has big doe eyes like his dad,” your mouth curved into a smile. “He’s perfect for you.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, pressing the off button on his phone. “How are you? What’s new?”

His question was so broad you weren’t sure where to start. He obviously knew about your meeting but didn’t know what it was for. But how much information would you feel comfortable divulging?

“I’m good.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I just got back from a solo trip, and then this whole LA thing happened, and now I’m here.”

“Ah–right. Yuna told me about your trip. How was it? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You nodded. “It was great. I practically laid out on the beach most of the time, got some sun in,” you smiled and shrugged. “And what about you? I heard you were back in Seoul for a little bit.”

He hummed. “Yeah, for my mom’s birthday dinner, and I finally got to meet Indie.”

“Ugh, I love that little booger,” you chimed in.

“She’s amazing, and she’s growing up so fast.”

“Right? She grew up in a blink of an eye.”

Then you realized Jungkook had missed most, if not the entirety, of Indie's first year. Time had passed, and you had also grown and blossomed without your awareness in the midst of it all.

Jungkook beamed a soft smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” you asked again, searching for the bartender.

He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Positive?” You gave him a look.

He nodded. “Still trying to take care of me?”

“Well–I am older than you.”

Jungkook chuckled and turned away for a moment. “I, uh, already had some earlier, remember? So, I shouldn’t have anymore.”

“What? You can’t hold your liquor anymore, old man?” you teased.

He scoffed at your lame joke. “Are you taunting me?”

It almost felt like old times when you were just friends, ragging on each other.

You sipped your drink before answering, “Yes.”

He flashed a close-lipped smile. “Can I take a rain check?”

You hummed lightly. “You got it.”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and swiveled in his chair, lightly brushing his knee against yours. “Do you have my new number?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, because you recently deleted all his contact, texts, and photos. You shook your head.

He held out his hand, wavering his fingers for your phone. You gave it over without hesitation and watched as he saved his number. “Call me if you need anything or want to get that drink before you leave.”

He handed it back, his fingers softly touching yours. “I should go. I left Bam too long by himself.”

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest and onto the counter, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of butterflies and the bead of sweat on the nape of your neck finally caressing your skin when he touched you. “Yeah, sure, of course.” You nervously scratched your temple. “I, uh, I should get going too. I have my meeting soon.”

Jungkook smiled and stood, and you followed suit. He stepped back, straightening his cream-colored jacket and smoothing down his pants. “I’ll talk to you soon?”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it or if it was just an expression. Either way, you didn’t want to put more meaning into it than needed. You smiled and hummed.

He stepped away, waving his hand before walking off into the sea of people who just entered the restaurant.

You half expected him to look back, but he didn’t. He was calm, cool, and collected as he confidently walked away, making you think he was over you.

Jungkook sat in his Uber, pinching himself to ensure he wasn’t dreaming–that he really saw you and had a conversation, and it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it would be. Unless it was awkward, and he invented a fictitious scenario in his head, misunderstood your body language, and misinterpreted your words.

“Sir?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. Yes, you can drop me off right here.” Jungkook’s mind raced back and forth, replaying the conversation.

He closed the car’s door, shuffling to the apartment complex’s gate. He punched in the code, rushing to his place to let Bam out.

The 50-pound puppy popped his head up, panting and wagging his tail as he saw his owner. Bam sprung to his feet and dashed over to Jungkook, smelling and licking his palm more than normal.

“I know, Bamie. I know.”

Jungkook smelled different. He must’ve had the faintest smell of you on him.

“Come on, boy. You’ve been waiting for me for too long.”

Bam whined when Jungkook’s mind was on something else and did not notice him. He was scratching Bam’s belly, staring off into space with nothing but you on his mind. It’s like you had completely taken over him like you were his paradise, and even if he tried to resist, it was probably useless now. He could never escape you.

Should he go back to the hotel? Would that seem too needy? He thought he was trying to get over you, but here you were, right in front of him, practically within reach—no ocean between the two of you. If now wasn’t the time, then when?

Was he prepared to fight for you? To be with you again? Was he ready for you to reject him if he wanted more, but you didn’t?

He sighed, fighting with himself for his next move. Whatever his decision, he wanted to ensure it was the right one. The real question was—did he want to be with you again after all this time?

The answer was yes—it has always been yes. You’re it. You’ve ruined him—it will always be you.

He was so close to getting in his car and driving back. Every cell in his body was urging him to go and confess his undying love—that is, until he remembered he ran away, that he hurt you.

What if you had moved on but didn't want him to know? He had no right to delve into your business anymore. What if you had moved on with that Yoongi guy? He'd heard that guy's name too many times from Yuna and Taehyung for him not to suspect anything was up with the two of you. You looked so happy with Yoongi that one time he saw you. Maybe he was the cause of your euphoria, the person you spent all your time with, the person you dreamed with, shared your hopes with—maybe you had fully closed the chapter that Jungkook was a part of, and Yoongi was the ‘take two’ of your story.

But could Jungkook just be a foolish dreamer? Thinking he still had a chance with you?

He'd given you his phone number, and the ball was now in your court. If you wanted to, then you’d contact him. Otherwise, perhaps it's best that he's not constantly chasing you. If you still wanted him, then you needed to let him know, and if you didn’t, then maybe he could finally try to let you go.

You checked yourself one last time, smoothing out your tailored skirt and matching blazer. You wished you had chosen another pair of heels, but your nude slingbacks were the only things you packed, so it’d have to suffice. With a swipe of your raspberry lip tint, you were now ready to charm whoever this executive was.

The hostess led you through the restaurant to a private dining lounge. A few guests were scattered far and wide while light jazz music and laughter filled your ears. Were all Netflix meetings always this fancy? You had looked up the menu beforehand, and the prices were somewhat reasonable for dinner, but you’d be fine with instant ramen from the convenience store. You could probably order the whole menu if you wanted since you weren't paying.

“Mr. Wells will be here shortly,” the hostess smiled, leaving you at the table as you mindlessly fiddled with your thumbs.

You wondered how your name even landed on the desk or email of someone across the ocean. Or could Jae just be a great writing agent, and he just had his connections? Maybe you’d find out during this dinner.

A waitress stopped by the table, bringing glasses of water and a bottle of Champagne.

“Oh–I didn’t order this.”

“Mr. Wells did. He wanted to apologize in advance for his lateness. He’s held up in traffic at the moment.” The waitress poured the champagne into two tall flutes.

Fifteen minutes went by as you sat waiting for this Netflix exec. He was already leaving a bad taste in your mouth because of his lateness, but it’s not like you had any other plans.

You scanned the room, watching others converse and eat before pulling out your phone. You went to your contacts and scrolled down to Jungkook’s name. It was like deja vu all over again–staring aimlessly at his name, whether or not to delete it or keep it. Only this time, he would hopefully pick up the call.

You were tempted to text him to see what he was up to. Considering it was a Friday night, he was probably out with friends, maybe Jimin or a girlfriend. You’d heard from Taehyung that they hung out fairly often. At least he had a friendly face in this city.

A low, husky voice said your name, making you look up from your phone. The man standing before you was not someone you pictured. If you had all the confidence in the world, you’d whistle and holler at this Park Seo Joon look alike.

“I’m Zachary Wells, but just call me Zach.” He grinned as he quickly scanned your face and held out his hand. You stood to shake it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and your work,” Zach said, gesturing for the both of you to sit.

“You have?”

“Whenever Kenji is in town, you’re all he ever talks about.”

Ah, Kenji. You should’ve known. Well, you supposed one of your exes was good for something.

Zach grabbed the attention of the waitress. “Should we order dinner? I’m starving.”

The two of you had a lot in common. Zach was fairly easy to talk to and was a chatterbox. But just like Kenji, Zach was avoiding why he had wanted to meet you in the first place.

The conversation had finally winded down after an hour, and the champagne and water washed down the last of your dinner. And now, only one thing remains.

“So, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet with you.” You hummed. "Well, as you know, we've been expanding Netflix into South Korea, and we're picking up a lot of Korean dramas as demand grows here in the States. As I was talking with Kenji, we thought you’d be perfect for the role of director for creative marketing. I understand you've been a writer for a long time, but I believe you have the potential to help us thrive even more with your market knowledge and insight.”

“Would that mean I wouldn’t have to move out here? That I could stay in Seoul?” It was the first thought on your mind.

“We’d onboard you here in LA for a few months and then get you settled back in Seoul.”

Zach’s offer was too good to be true and to pass up. You didn’t have anything else going for you right now. No show and only a half-finished script.

“So? What do you think?” Zach leaned back in his seat, draping his arm behind you, scanning you from head to toe. He finished the last of his champagne, gesturing for the waitress to bring another one.

It’s not like you could give him an answer right here, right now–coming to live in LA, leaving your life and friends behind. It was a big ask and not a decision you’d take lightly.

Your silence encouraged him to move closer, and his knee knocked into yours. “What do I have to do to convince you?” he said, his finger lightly brushing against your knee.

Immediately, you pulled back, pushing his hand away. “Is this how you get everyone to come to work for you?” You scowled, disgusted by his action.

“This is an opportunity of a lifetime, babe. Don’t waste it.” Zach raised his brows, waiting for you to change your mind. He tried to touch you again, but a loud smack echoed throughout the room, making others around you stop and look at the commotion.

“You’re feisty. I like that.” Zach licked his lips, massaging his cheek.

“You’re a disgusting pig.”

He scoffed. “Oh, am I? I’m here trying to give you a job, and here you are, being a fucking bitch. I hear you have nothing else lined up for you, right? And I can easily tell everyone in this industry to never give you another job again.” He threatened and then proceeded to move in again.

“If you touch me again. I’ll fucking scream,” you seethed, your face warm to the touch, smoke fuming from your ears.

Zach rolled his eyes and threw his hands in defeat. “Fine–have it your way. Good luck getting a job in this industry ever again,” he spat out before leaving.

Everyone in the restaurant was looking at you. You cowered, unsure of where to go or what to do. You weren’t expecting this turn of events. It was just too good to be true.

This whole trip felt like a bust. You came here expecting to return to Seoul with a job but instead had a creepy interaction with a high-level executive, and they paid for everything, including your flight and hotel. You shivered at the thought of him knowing exactly where you were staying. You were alone in a big city, and the only person you knew was your ex-boyfriend.

You illuminated your phone to check the time, debating whether to call Jungkook. Would it be weird? Would you look desperate if you called? It’s not like you had any dignity left anyway.

Unlocking your phone, you clicked on Jungkook’s contact; your thumb hovered over the call button. Fuck it, you thought and pressed call.

It rang a few times before Jungkook’s familiar voice was on the other end—it felt like old times.

Hello?

“Hey, it’s me.”

Hey. I was hoping you’d call. Are you done with your meeting already?

“Yeah, um, would you mind picking me up at the restaurant?”

Yeah! Of course. Text me the address. I’m coming right now.

Jungkook zipped through the city, and thankfully, there wasn’t any heavy traffic to slow him down. He got to the restaurant in less than 20 minutes. He pulled up and saw you waiting on the sidewalk with your arms crossed, trying to keep yourself warm. Parking the car, he ran over to you.

“Hey—are you okay?” he asked with concerned eyes, scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you weren’t hurt.

“Yeah, can we go?” Your body language was telling Jungkook otherwise.

He opened the door for you, and you quickly got in, fastening your seat belt and breathing a sigh of relief once you lay against the headrest. Jungkook looked over, biting his cheek as he could tell you weren’t okay—your eyes were glassy, and he could see how your mascara smudged. He began to input the address for the hotel, but you stopped him.

“Can—can we go back to your place?” Jungkook perked up. “I don’t want to be alone, if that’s okay.”

He certainly wasn’t going to deny you. “Yeah, of course. That’s fine with me.”

“Are you sure?”

It probably wasn’t fair of you to do this to him.

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.”

“Jungkook, you can totally say no—”

He gently placed his hand on top of yours. “Hey—it’s okay. We’ll go to my place.”

You waited a good distance behind Jungkook as he unlocked the door. He took a step but then stepped back and turned to you.

“Bam gets excited when new people come over. So, I apologize if he’s a bit wild.”

You smiled, assuring him you’d be okay. You were nervous but psyched to meet him, actually—you hoped he would like you. Considering Jungkook was his owner, Bam would probably be the sweetest pup.

As soon as Jungkook opened the door, the brown-coated Doberman greeted him. He knelt down, rubbing his floppy ears. “I told you I wouldn’t be gone long, right, Bamie?”

Jungkook looked at you, beaming a wide smile before returning to his puppy. Bam’s tongue hung out as he panted, looking in your direction–he really did have big, doe eyes like Jungkook. Maybe they were drawn to each other through lingering starry eyes.

He let go of him, and immediately Bam came to sniff your hand, giving a few licks before looking up at you. “I think he likes you.”

“Whew—I passed Bam’s vibe check,” you joked as you crouched down to cup his face, in which Bam licked your chin. “Oh–” You scrunch your eyes closed and giggle at the pup. He really was so sweet.

“Bam—house,” Jungkook commanded. Bam whined quietly before following his owner’s order. He pouted the entire stroll to his crate. As he lay down, he took his turtle chew toy into his mouth, making it squeak.

You slipped off your shoes and set down your bag, looking around Jungkook’s apartment. As you expected, it was squeaky clean, with a few photo frames of his mom, Yuna, and Indie. Then you noticed the ‘Rising Star’ award he had displayed on a shelf next to a few other awards he must’ve gotten at his new job. The stark white walls and flooring contrasted against the black and brown hue furniture. You chuckled to yourself when you saw the workout equipment in the corner—of course; it’s right in his living room.

“If you’re tired, you can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh–” It wasn’t your intention to sleep here. You didn’t want to be alone after that icky interaction with Zach. “I’m okay. Do you just want to hang out and talk for a little bit?”

Jungkook took a big gulp and cleared his throat. He figured this was the moment of truth. He didn’t know what to expect anymore–it could be good or bad.

“Yeah,” he smiled, making his way to the couch, gesturing for you to do the same. “Make yourself at home.”

That was easier said than done. You felt intrusive and feared that you crossed a boundary you shouldn’t have.

He watched you sit on the opposite end. And never in a million years did he think you’d be here, sitting with him. Is it possible that you have found some way to forgive him?

Your eyes found his, and the two of you nervously chuckled.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?”

You shook your head. You didn’t mind just sitting here and being in his presence. It felt so comforting after such a long day of traveling and a shitty meeting.

“How was your meeting? Did it go well?”

You sighed, positioning your body toward him as you leaned against the couch. You purse your lips before answering him. “The guy was a bit of a douche. The job sounded like a great opportunity, but I refuse to work with someone who thinks I’ll sleep with them for a job.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry, what?”

You could see Jungkook clenching his fist, but honestly, he had nothing to worry about. You hoped the slap Zach got was more than enough to scare him off.

You held your hands up to calm him down. “I can take care of myself, Jungkook,” you assured him. “He got a nice slap from me,” you beamed.

He breathed a sigh, relaxing his body into the couch cushion. “I’m sorry the meeting wasn’t everything you had hoped for.”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I’m sure something better will come along.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“So, what were you doing on a Friday night? I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” You scanned the room, and there was nothing indicating he had company over.

Jungkook pouted, shaking his head. “Just hanging out with Bam.”

“No girlfriend or anything?”

Jungkook suppressed a smile, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe this was your subtle way of asking if he was seeing anyone. “No. No girlfriend. LA girls aren’t really my type.” Because you were, he thought. As hard as he tried to let you go, he just couldn’t.

You hummed and then wanted to kick yourself because that question came out of nowhere, but it was the question lingering on your mind ever since he had left. Someone who looked like him would’ve surely had women lined out the door, ready and willing to date him and bear his children.

“What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, avoiding your gaze.

“No. No boyfriend.”

“So, you’re not seeing that Yoongi guy?”

You licked your lips, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. “I’m guessing you heard that name from Yuna or Taehyung?” He nodded. “He’s just a friend and a pain in my ass.”

“Ah–got it.”

“And what about Alex? Is she still around?” You couldn’t not ask. It was like a giant elephant hanging out in the room with you.

Jungkook figured her name would come up sooner or later. “Alex’s not working for the company anymore. She moved out of the country.”

“Good,” you huffed; if she wasn't near Jungkook, that made you happy.

“You really hate her, huh?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Jungkook softly chuckled, letting a beat pass. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Everything that happened with us.”

“I’m sorry too.” Your lips thinned, your fingers unconsciously picking at your hand.

“Why are you sorry?”

You appreciated that he didn't point out your flaws, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. Neither one of you was perfect. “Jungkook, you’re not the only one to blame. I should have communicated my feelings better when we were together.”

He nodded in agreement. “Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

Initially, it was hard to even think about forgiving Jungkook, but as time passed, the pain and hurt subsided. “Mm. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” he chimed in. You chuckled at how fast he answered. “What?” He raised his eyebrow.

You shook your head. “Nothing–”

“Just say it.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because—I just—shouldn’t.” You wanted to say you found him cute and endearing and that he forgave others too quickly.

“Fine,” he pouted, shifting his leg onto the couch.

Your mouth opens involuntarily, exhaling a yawn from exhaustion. The time difference really fucked you up. Quickly, you covered it with both hands and excused yourself.

“Am I boring you?” Jungkook teased.

“Yes, actually. I hadn’t realized you’d become so dull,” you quipped, covering another yawn. “See—so boring that you’re making me sleepy.” You leaned on your arm against the back cushion.

“Or maybe you’re just becoming an old lady.”

You scoffed. “I’m an old lady? You’re the one who’s staying in on a Friday night! Old man.”

“Yeah, I had to stay in, just in case an old lady needed me.” Jungkook giggled and looked away before returning to meet your eyes. “I’ve missed this.”

“What?”

“Us.”

It was this specific moment when you moved into flight mode. You gave a half-smile and shifted your position so your feet touched the ground. You checked your phone for the time. “I should get an Uber and go back to my hotel.”

“I can take you.”

“Jungkook, you’ve done so much for me already. I don’t want you to have to drive back and forth.”

“I don’t mind—honestly.”

You stood up. “I know you don’t—but I do. It’s okay—really.” You unlocked your phone and pulled up the app, determined to call for a car. All of this was becoming too much for you, for your heart. His presence, the giggles, the familiarity of what the two of you used to be.

Jungkook stood and walked over to you, gently pushing away your phone. “What’s going on? Tell me the truth.” He could always tell when your mind was working overload—racing with thought after thought.

Should you tell him why you needed to leave after the two of you had a nice, civil conversation without screaming or yelling? Your therapist did tell you that no one would know how you feel unless you told them—and you just told Jungkook that you should communicate better.

Ugh, goddamnit. 

Speak now or forever, hold your peace.

You didn’t want to revert back to your old ways—being anxious, self-conscious, unsure of what you wanted. You sighed. “The truth?” Jungkook nodded. “The truth is—I probably shouldn’t have called you.”

“Why?” he asked as his starry eyes gazed deeply into your soul.

“Because—I was—I am scared.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrow, unsure of why you’d be scared. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared that if I called you and we talked—old feelings would resurface, and I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

“You still have feelings for me?”

“I think so? I’m—I’m not sure,” you stammered. “That’s why I didn’t call you in the first place when I knew I was coming to LA, and then when I happened to bump into you—well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that yes, I still have feelings for you.”

His eyes fell to the floor, and he sucked in his lips, trying not to smile, before looking back at you. “Am I the mistake?”

You shook your head. “You were never a mistake.”

“Then what mistakes are you referring to?”

You hung your head and sat back down, and Jungkook followed suit. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, and he looked at you, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know. Me—falling too fast, building fantasies inside my head, knowing it’ll never be real, not saying how I feel, pushing away people who love me. Should I keep going?”

“So, you didn’t want to call me and come here because you were scared all that’s gonna happen if you talked to me? Is that right?”

It sounded ridiculous, but he hit the nail on the head.

You hummed.

There was the slimmest chance of you bumping into Jungkook while in the same city, but you hadn’t fully prepared yourself if you did bump into him. You weren’t ready for the unresolved feelings and the smallest flutters of butterflies, your body to warm up to the simplest of accidental touches and soft giggles.

You could’ve just sucked it up, called an Uber, returned to your hotel, and tried to brush off the slimy interaction with the Netflix exec, but instead, you called the one person you knew would bring you comfort—Jungkook.

Should you just be completely honest and bare your soul? You were halfway there. Maybe it was time to grow up and just say what the fuck you wanted.

Jungkook was silent and waited to see if you had anything else.

You cleared your throat, thinking it was now or never.

“Our breakup,” you paused to recollect yourself and to stop your lips from quivering so much. You started again, “Our breakup—it really fucked me up. You left without saying goodbye, and after that, I kind of spiraled—drinking every day, showing up late to set, and ditching our friends. Hell—I almost let some random guy fuck me in a bathroom.”

You sighed. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, but I needed to go through all those things to be where I am today. I’ve done a lot of work on myself and had a lot of healing through therapy, a solo trip, and some new friends–okay, just one new friend, but that's beside the point–I just don’t want to go back to the same person I was before.”

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him.

“I’m not saying that being here with you again will make me become the person I was before—I just want to make better decisions being the new person I am now.”

Finally, hearing how you felt after all this time relieved him. He had waited so long for you to finally share yourself with him.

Jungkook’s mouth moved from side to side, nibbling on his bottom lip before he spoke, “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. The weekend in Jeju really fucked me up. So much was happening with Taehyung and Hyunie’s wedding, and then we were on the brink of breaking up while pretending to be happy. My heart and my mind were all over the place. Then I saw you with Yoongi, and that really sent me over the edge because that’s when I knew I had lost you and could never get you back—no matter how hard I tried, I don’t think anything would’ve worked. So—I left.”

Your jaw tightened, trying to hold back tears as Jungkook recounted his side of the story. You didn’t know he saw you with Yoongi; it must’ve been shortly after you returned from Jeju. And as much as you were hurting, so was he.

Well, since both of you were in apology mode.

“I’m sorry too,” you said. “Growing up, it was only me. I had to do everything myself because my parents weren’t really there for me, and so I always felt like I didn’t want to bother others with my burdens. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m slowly learning that I don’t have to do everything alone—that it’s okay to ask for help. So, I’m sorry I never communicated well and kept things from you.”

He licked his lips, thinking about how new this was all for him—you baring your feelings. “No, that makes sense. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I mean—I’m not perfect either. We both made mistakes, but you’re wrong about one thing.”

You raised your eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“You had me and Yuna, and you know my mom loves you like you’re her own. She might love you more than she loves me,” he said. “And you know you can always tell me what’s going on. I’ll always be here for you—no matter what happens between us.”

You grinned because he was right. You had overlooked the huge part that their family played in your life. You couldn’t discount that.

“If there’s one thing I truly regret from all of this—it’s cutting ramen out of my diet since I’ve moved here,” he joked to lighten the mood.

You dramatically gasped, covering your mouth. “You cut ramen from your diet? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

The two of you giggled.

“I guess we’ve both done some growing up, huh?” Jungkook knocked his knee into yours.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“So, what now?”

You shrugged, unsure of Jungkook’s feelings, but you wanted to express yours. “I don’t want to wake up one day and regret not trying again. I want you. I want all of you, but I'm scared—scared that I'll get hurt and go back to my old ways. I’ve had a lot of healing, and I'm in a good place, but seeing you again, being near you, makes me want to forget everything that has happened and jump in your arms and tear off your clothes.”

Jungkook covered his mouth as he silently chuckled at your confession.

“Are you basking in my misery?” you sneered.

His lips turned into a pout as he shook his head. “No, I just—this is what I wanted all along while we were dating.”

“What? Me acting like a fool?”

“No—you telling me how you feel, tell me how much you want me, to claim me as yours.”

You opened your mouth and made a face. “You want me to grovel? Get on my knees?”

Jungkook bit his tongue when you got down on your knees in front of him. He had to tell himself and his dick to calm the fuck down because it was not the time and place to be thinking of such naughty things.

You gazed up at him; seeing him squirm was fun. “You like me on my knees?” you asked, sitting back on your legs.

He cleared his throat, adjusting his sweats as he shifted back on the couch. He thought back to the very first time you sucked him off after having dinner with Yuna and your mom. “I’m sorry. I think you were confessing your love for me. Go on. I’m all ears.”

You smacked his thigh. “I’m—you’re ruining this moment!”

“I’m ruining it? You’re the one who got down on your knees! You know how much I love that,” he mumbled the last of his words.

You turned and cupped your ear toward him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

“Just—go on. You were saying?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for you.

You huffed, tilting your head back before landing on his sparkly doe eyes and cute little dimple peeking through. “I am stupidly in love with you, Jeon Jungkook, and I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you again.”

Jungkook felt a sense of relief when he heard those words, but there was still a small sliver of fear. “What if we’re just fooling ourselves into thinking this will work?”

“Then I guess we can be fools together.”

After baring your soul to Jungkook, you wanted nothing more than to jump into his lap and ride him like an endless merry-go-round, but you’ve changed and didn’t want to regret anything going forward with him. The two of you needed to take things slow and steady because you wanted to win the race.

The two of you stayed up late—talking, drinking beer, and catching each other up on life until the sun came up. It was like no time had passed, and you picked up right where you left off.

Bam had taken a liking to you, staying by your side, following you whenever you got up and moved around. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. He definitely took after Jungkook.

The size of your bladder warranted another trip to the bathroom, and when you returned to where Jungkook and Bam were, you noticed Jungkook in a compromising position.

“Why are you on one knee? Are you taking a page out of my book?” you teased, not wanting to jump to any conclusions because you both agreed on taking it slow.

Without an answer, he took out something he was hiding behind his back. He held a blue velvet box in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced rapidly because you knew exactly where that box was from. You and Yuna had looked at engagement rings for hours on end when the two of you thought Namjoon was getting ready to propose. You had mentioned it too many times to Jungkook while the two of you were dating. There’s no way he’d be proposing, right?

This whole thing with Jungkook was new—well, not really new, but you’d have to turn him down if he were to ask your hand in marriage. You were definitely not ready because the two of you had just agreed to try this relationship again.

“What the fuck is that? It better be a ring pop,” you implored. He slowly shook his head, beaming a smile from ear to ear. You repeated ‘no’ under your breath, shaking your head.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Oh—I know what it is!”

Jungkook leaned over on his knee toward you. “Okay, so tell me.”

“It’s—it’s the ring that I couldn’t stop talking about. Why do you have it?”

He giggled at how cute and flustered you had become. “For once, you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” you huffed.

He stood, making his way to you, lifting your chin with his index finger. He stared deeply into your eyes. “You are completely and utterly wrong.”

You pouted and crossed your arms. “Prove it.”

Jungkook sighed at how stubborn you were. He opened the blue velvet box, and it was not the ring you had envisioned. “It’s a promise ring.” Because it was the ring that complimented the engagement set.

You visibly gulped, and there was a sense of relief. “A promise ring?”

He nodded. “You are everything I could ever want and more. It’s always been you, and there’s gonna be no one else for me. You are worth walking through hell and back, and considering we’ve done that already—I’d do it again if I had to, but please, please—I don’t want to do it again,” he pleaded, making you smile. “If you’ll let me, I want to love you and show you I’m worthy of your love every day for the rest of my life.”

You found yourself grinning from ear to ear, loving his little declaration of love. You moved closer to him, looking at the ring and then at him. “I want to make this right—us. I was wrong for not fighting for you—for us, and I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

He pulled the ring from the box, grabbed your left hand, and placed the piece of jewelry on your finger. “We’re in this together—you and me.”

You glanced at the ring, smiling at how pretty it looked on your finger. “You and me.”

A lot has happened in the last 24 hours—you flew to LA, had your meeting, and rekindled your relationship with Jungkook. The last thing wasn’t anything you expected, but it became the silver lining to this short trip you were dreading in the first place.

The pair of you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling in the elevator up to your hotel room–mind you, you’d kept your distance from him the entire night, but it was becoming pure and complete utter torture.

Your time in LA was already coming to an end, and everything in you wanted to just leave your life behind and stay, but you had to resist; you had to fight it—at least for now.

“So,” you trailed off, unsure what to say to him.

“So,” he repeated, leaning next to your door.

You both smiled and laughed at the tension filling the hallway.

“Do you,” you paused to think through your words, “want to come in until I have to leave?” This was a good boundary, you thought–just until you had to leave for the airport.

Jungkook licked his lips, flipping his lip ring back and forth with his tongue. His eyes explored your face before landing on your lips. “I’d love to, but we know if I do, then you won't get anything packed, and you’ll for sure miss your flight.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and playfully smacked his chest. “I have no idea what you’re alluding to, mister.”

But you fucking knew and wanted it too.

He eliminated the distance between you, slowly caging you against the door. You closed your eyes when he gently caressed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You had forgotten how much you had missed his touch—your body was glowing inside, illuminated from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You wanted nothing but to savor this moment—a moment you thought ceased to exist, a moment you thought only existed in your reveries.

The tiny hairs on your skin, tingling, standing on their end in anticipation of an expected kiss. All this tension was killing you softly.

His other hand snaked around the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer. Your eyes fluttered open, watching his lips part, his breaths slowing down, and you were trying to remember if they were still soft and had the faintest taste of strawberry. And you wanted to gently tug on that silver piece of jewelry and hear him whine because of it. 

Your stomach somersaults like there’s a gymnast going for the gold for the floor exercise when his body brushes against yours. The twitch in his black sweats is what really makes you melt and clench around nothing. It's been far too long since you've been touched, and he was the only one that could bring you pleasure.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes are desperately darting back and forth between yours, waiting for your okay.

“Please,” you pleaded, almost inaudible if he wasn't so close.

He doesn’t go right in like you expected. He took his time, both hands cupping your face and your hands gripping his tiny waist like nothing had ever stopped between the two of you. The tip of his nose nudged yours, his lips lightly feathering across the top of your lips—not going in just yet. His warm hot breath fans the ever-growing desire within you. It was thrilling for him to rediscover everything he loved about you.

You closed your eyes in excitement, scrunching the bottom of his shirt in your hands. You slightly tugged on it, wanting him to hurry and just fucking kiss you already. You had never known him to be so careful, so gentle.

He giggled at your frustration. “I thought we were taking things slow.”

You deadpanned. “It’s too slow,” you whined, trying to reach for his lips, but he pulled back. “I thought you wanted to kiss me?”

Jungkook flashed a soft smile, his dimple on display. “I do.”

“Then shut up and do it already,” you pouted. You couldn't handle the teasing between you anymore. You wanted to make up for everything lost within the last year. If you had all the time in the world, you’d want him to do anything and everything to you, but that day would have to wait.

He tilted his head and leaned in; his nose nuzzled into the side of your face, and the deep yearning you’d hidden inside was released as his lips finally found yours. Lips on lips delicately caressing and wandering like the two of you were in a drought, in desperate search of food and water.

You gently nipped on his bottom lip, lightly pulling on his ring before kissing the side of his mouth. He grinned, thinking he’d get you back for that, not today but soon. Your hands traced the curves of his body, causing him to press himself further into you. The evident erection in his sweats tells you how much he was enjoying this too.

The kiss became heated and fervent, like an all-consuming fire taking everything in its path. Your hands are placed on his toned chest, holding on for dear life as he presses you against the door, breathing life back into you like your life depends on it.

You pulled back, gasping for air, but he leaned in, wanting just a bit more. You’re intoxicating, and he’s greedy. He’s a man starved from your touch and kisses. There’s no way he’ll ever let you go again. He’d fight for you until his very last breath.

Your arms drape around his neck, your fingers twirling and tugging at the ends of his long hair. You deepen the kiss, your warm tongue nipping at his mouth, begging for more access to him. Kissing isn't enough anymore. You needed him—all of him. To rediscover his deepest desires, wants, and needs was the only job you wanted right now.

Jungkook withdrew from your kiss. “You have to pack.”

You took a moment to catch your breath. “Or you can come inside and help me pack.” You moved in again for another kiss, but he resisted.

“I would love that, but…” he trailed off, letting the desire within subside.

Your lips thinned. “But then we wouldn’t be taking it slow, would we?” He nods. “I should pack.”

He leaned in to quickly give you a peck on the lips. “Mm, you should.”

Your shoulders slump, and you tilt your head against the door. “But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.” You groaned and stomped your feet like baby Indie. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

bonus (jk pov - hotel)

“Sorry, I got here early, but some lady was taking forever to get her luggage,” the driver said as Jungkook’s colleague opened the door.

"You coming?" His colleague asked from inside the car.

"...uh, you go on without me. I left my phone inside. I'll catch an Uber."

His colleague shrugged and shut the door behind him before the car took off. Jungkook stood before the hotel's entrance, unsure whether to enter or just leave.

He thought he saw you while waiting outside the restaurant, but he figured it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. Even if it was really you, he wasn't sure he was ready to face you, let alone know what to say. He abruptly left without explaining his actions. He didn't think when he did it, which was a stupid, rash decision he later regretted. He couldn't bear the heartache of being so close to you.

The plan was to get as far away as possible so he could forget, but the problem was that he couldn't. You were the love of his life (yes, even at the tender age of 25). He had no desire for anyone else. Even when gorgeous women were flinging themselves at him in this new city. He wasn't concerned with them because they weren't you.

Everything made him think of you. From peonies to hot tubs and even bowling. He'd go back and say goodbye if he could. He despised the way things ended.

Before he knew it, his foot had stepped past the sliding glass door, heading in, unsure of where even to begin. He began his search as he walked through the lobby, peering at the reception desk. 

He noticed a woman standing at the counter. Maybe your hair had grown out. Approaching the woman, he tapped them on the shoulder. "Noona..."

When the woman turned around, Jungkook quickly apologized before returning and going on the hunt for you. You may have already gone to your room, but he wasn't about to give up so easily. He'd be sorry if he missed you by a millisecond. Could his eyes be deceiving him? Maybe he didn't see you just standing there. Maybe he missed you so much that he imagined everything.

He told himself he'd look for ten minutes before giving up and going home. He walked around the lobby, past the reception desk, down the hallway, and even took the elevator up a few floors before returning down.

He was sure the workers thought he was creeping around and wouldn't be surprised if they had called security. He only had a few minutes before calling it quits and heading home. He walked past the restaurant he was just at, then took a few steps back.

What if you had gone to get a drink?

It didn't take long for him to notice you sitting alone at the bar, waving the bartender down to order. His eyes were not deceiving him; he was not insane.

It was you. 

You were absolutely stunning, he thought. Even after a year apart, you’d become more beautiful than ever. He needed a moment to take you all in because he didn’t think he’d ever see you again—here in LA.

Every heartbeat was like a metronome, keeping in sync with every step he took toward you. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes as he stood behind you, his mind racing with the right words—what would he say after a year?

“Is this seat taken?”

Fuck—if he could, he’d punch himself. He could’ve come up with something better.

✨ next ~ drabble ~ dream bigger, darling

[lulubunny0]

Eyes of the Soul:

Part two |

Jace X fem/reader

Summary: After y/n had that moment with Jace she felt on edge while around him. She wanted to talk to him but he was avoiding her. Y/n comes to find herself taking care of a very intoxicated Jace.

Warnings: no readers under 16 please, smut, fluff, tension, fighting, blood, cursing, not proofread, strong language, long story, drunk, the use of y/n, none of these characters are mine except for y/n.

A/N: I’m sorry the last one did not have any title, i wrote it all during classes and was so not focused. This one will be done more detailed and a lot longer. This is also a part two from my first fanfic post(should be pinned if not it has a gif of Jace shirtless in a door way).

______________________________

After we got home Jace went right back to being a ghost. I couldn’t get his eyes out of my head, and how his hands felt on my waist. “Asshole.” I whispered under my breath alone in my room of the institute. I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes but everytime i did I kept seeing that look that I’ve never seen before.

I got up and changed into my training out fit. My black tank top, black spandex shorts, and my black boots. While walking to the training room I took my stele out and started to draw on my wrist the flexibility rune. Walking into the training room I sighed then set my stele down. I put in some ear plugs and set my playlist to shuffle. As I tuned out the world around me, I focused on hitting the punching bag. Swing, “y/n.” Kick, “y/n.” I went to swing again at the bag but felt someone grab my wrist.

I took my ear plugs out and turned to see Jace. “Y/n, thats enough. If you’re gonna train at least do it the right way.” He pulled my shirt up just a bit and brushed his stele over my healing rune. I scoffed and turned away from him. ‘Asshole.’ I thought, ‘You don’t have any right to act like this after being so distant.’ But thats what I’ve always had to take with Jace. Him being completely distant to me but then completely fine with everyone. As if I had done something towards him.

“Could say thank you, you know? Its only polite when someone helps you.” He said sending a steam of anger and frustration through me. I scoffed, “Oh thank you so much. Oh and also thank you so much for actually talking to me for once Jace.”

He crossed his arms at me and starred at me with hurt expression almost. I didn’t mean to be so distasteful toward him but thats all his is to me. He only plays with my head for fun. “What are you talking about?” He stayed where he was as to not be mistaken for the punching bag.

I turned around facing him and stepped closer to him. “Don’t play dumb now. You act as if I don’t exist then play your stupid ‘play with peoples heart’ games. I’m not some girl, I have lived with you here in the institute for five years now. We where like best friends, you, Alec, Izzy, and me where all so close. Then one day you just act as if I did something to make you hate me.”

He stepped toward me while uncrossing his harms. He brushed his hair back with one hand then cleared his throat. “I don’t hate you. I never have.“ “Then why do you act like it?” He went to say something but stopped and tightened his jaw as if he was holding back some truth to his statement. “I understand if you dislike me or hate me but could you at least treat me with respect and not just mess with me when your bored?” I didn’t give him the chance to finish, I picked up my stele and walked back to my room in frustration.

______________________________

A knock at my door made me let out a light grown as I was just about to fall asleep. I got up, wearing grey short shorts and a light (your favourite color) sports bra. I opened the door to see Alec holding a what seemed to be a very intoxicated Jace.

“I’m sorry, I know its late but me and Izzy need to run out on a mission on short notice. I was wondering if you could just watch him a bit while we are gone?” Alec seemed in a hurry, even though the last thing I wanted was to baby sit Jace but I owed Alec for the other day. I nodded, Alec helped Jace to my bed and laid him down. “Thanks y/n, if he acts up don’t fee bad for beating him up.” Alec smirked then left closing the door after him.

“Mmm. Why is my bed smell so good.” Jace slurred his speech while turning over and barring his face into my blanket. I sighed walking over to him, “Come on, lets get you at least semi dressed for bed.” I said pulling him over. His eyes met mine and a smile I hadn’t seen in a while came over his face. He grabbed my hands and pulled me onto him. I fell onto his chest with his arms hugging me tightly as to keep me from leaving.

“I know your mad at me but at least I can do this in my dreams.” He mumbled to himself while nuzzling his head into the side of my neck and shoulder. “Jace, this isn’t a dream. Come one lets get these shoes off and get you to bed.” I said while trying to get up. Even though I missed this side of Jace, all soft and nice. He put his arms around my waist and looked up at me as I leaned back.

His eyes had that same look in them as they did the night at the club on top of the car. He leaned up and kissed neck then slowly kissed up my chin to my cheek while tightening his grip on my waist.

My face heated up and turned a light red as he stopped to look into my eyes. He placed on hand on my cheek and smiled. “I hate not being able to tell you the truth y/n. But you’ll want nothing to do with me if you new how I felt.” His speech slurred but I heard every word as if he wasn’t drunk and didn’t think this was a dream.

His face came closer to mine and lightly met his lips to mine. He closed his eyes and kissed me deeper making the melting feeing run through my body. I slowly kissed back before realising he was drunk and not fully conscious. I forced myself to pushed him back. His eyes looked into mine with a begging look as if he wanted more. “Jace, this isn’t a dream you’re just drunk. You don’t mean any of thi-.” Before I could finish he flipped himself and me over.

He pinned me down and started kissing me more forcefully with a feeling of hunger for more. I grabbed onto his shoulder but felt him grab my arms and put them over my head. He broke the kiss panting a bit while looking down at me. I could feel something pressing against my leg. I blushed more as my body was more honest then my words where. “Jace, no, you ca-.” He bit my neck causing me to let out a light wince and gasp. His grip tightened on my wrist while he kissed over where he bit.

“I mean all of this. But am to much of a coward to… tell.. yo-.” He fell beside of me completely out cold. I panted for a second trying to catch my breath. I looked at the ceiling trying to comprehend what just happened. I felt my neck where he but me and got up. I took his shoes and shirt off then put a blanket over him. ‘You asshole.’ I turned off my light and got into bed with him. I got underneath the blanket trying not to wake him. I closed my eyes trying to forget what just happened as I was sure he wouldn’t remember anything he just did in the morning. I exhaled deeply then turned over trying to go to bed.

______________________________

“Y/n. You don’t know me, but you will soon. These people will try to take you from me cause they are scared of what is real. Soon you will come to know the true you. I will see you soon, my daughter.” I gasped and sat up fast. I panted a bit while looking around my room. ‘Just a dream.’ I felt something warm beside me and something holding onto my waist. I looked over to see Jace still asleep.

I moved his hand and got up. I put on a jacket and went to the kitchen. I brushed my hands through my hair while remembering everything from last night. If only I would be as lucky as Jace to completely forget it all. Especially since it meant nothing.

I waited for the coffee to finish, I was lost in thought. ‘Why do I feel like this. It’s Jace, of course he’s gorgeous but he doesn’t think of you like that. So why do you think of him like..’ My thoughts where interrupted by Simon shaking me. “Y/n!” I turned to see Simon and smiled. I hugged him and laughed, “Oh my angel! Hey!”

He laughed with me and backed up. “How have you been? Sorry I haven’t been around lately. Me and Clary have been trying to find a rime to visit.” I shook my head and smiled, “No no you guys are fine. Its just good to see you. Is Clary here too?”

He shook his head while grabbing two mugs, “No she went to see her mom in Idris.” My eyes looked over to a tired and hungover Jace. My heart started to beat a bit fast as I then heard Simon shout, “Did someone bite you?!” I felt my heart stop and heard Jace start choking on the orange juice he had started to swallow before hearing such a question.

Simon went to touch my neck but I stepped back and laughed nervously, “What? No, heh, I was just messing around and got bit.” “By a vampire?!?!” I shook my head fast at Simons response, “No no no, I was, uhh.. I was with someone last night.” ‘What did I just say.’

Simons eyes sparkled and smiled teasingly, “Oh? Y/n found herself someone? He’s definitely not a vampire though, right?…” I laughed and poured coffee into my mug and took a sip. “Yeah no, not a vampire. More like a little puppy.” “Oh my god!! A werewo-.” Simon went to shout again from excitement but Jace had slammed the fridge. “Y/n, can I talk to you real quick?”

I followed Jace to the hall and back into my room. I leaned against the wall as he had his back to me. “Why was I in your bed when I woke up.” He said but instead of a question it was more of a demand for an answer. “Alec dropped you off at my room because he needed to leave with Izzy and wanted someone to watch you. I took your shirt off incase you puked on it. Then you fell asleep.” I bit my tongue as I thought of what happened before that all. He turned to me and slowly walked toward me. He tapped his neck, “Then whats that?” I put my hand over the bite mark as I completely forgot I could have just used my healing tune.

“It’s really no big deal Jace. You where just a bit drun-.” He turned around, “Fuck. So it was not a dream.” I hugged myself as I looked away a bit embarrassed for some reason. Scared of what his reaction would be. ‘I was probably just mistook you for another girl.’ ‘Oh ew. God your like a sister.’

“I’m sorry.” Jace said in a low tone. A sentence I had only ever heard him say once. I felt my stomach flutter as hearing him show sympathy instead of anger or discussed made me have, hope?

“No its fine, it was a mista-.” “No. No y/n. It wasn’t.” I was stuck by the wall like a statue from all the sudden truth Jace was saying to me. He turned around and looked at me with those eyes. Those beautiful, mesmerising blue eyes. He slowly stepped closer. I stood still as I looked up at him. “It wasn’t a mistake. Do you know how insane you drive me?” He lost me. Insane I make him? I went to argue but I felt his hand slowly touch my face just like last night. And those eyes look into mine, as if he was looking for a reason to walk away.

He slowly got closer to my lips, “I have never felt something like this for anyone in my life. I have never had such a instinct to take something.” He placed his forehead gently against mine. “I look at you and see what I should be to you, a big brother that watches over you and picks on you. But then something inside me just wants to hid you from every man in this world.”

I couldn’t speak, Jace Wayland, the man who had any women fall to his feet. Is telling me I, y/n, drive him crazy? “No fast come backs?” He teased with a light smirk, ‘theres that cockiness.’ “I never saw you that way. Till that night at the club. Its like you corrupted my mind and you where all I could think about.” I leaned up a bit with my lips just inches from his. “Then, last night, having you kiss me and have you begging for me. I can never see you any other way but as someone that I want.”

Jace took no more time and finally connected our lips. He kissed me gently at first but then started to kiss deeper. I grabbed his hair lightly as I kissed back. I then felt his tongue slip into my mouth and explore my mouth. My legs where starting to give out from under me as they trembled.

Jace slowly picked me up wrapping my legs around his waist. Pressing my back to the wall, not breaking the kiss once. I pulled his hair lightly making him let out a low grunt in between the kiss. He slowly trailed his lips down to my neck and started to kiss and suck all over it.

“Haa.. J-Jace..” I let out light moans, I felt something familiar press against my thigh just like last night. “Shhh, I know. Are you sure you want this?” He said panting lightly while not breaking eye contact.

I nodded my head, “Say it. Or I won’t do anymore.” He said which sent my stomach into butterflies. I then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Please fuck me Jace.”

______________________________

A/N: AHHHHH I know you where wanting the gooooood stuff buttt, I thought this would be a lovely place to stop for now. Since this story “Eyes Of The Soul” has hope to be more then just a smut, I though I could leave you guys with a little cliff hanger~

Butttt I hope you all are enjoying how the story is going so far. I apologise if there is anything spelled incorrectly, J haven’t had the time to re-read it and make sure everything was perfect. I do promise that part 3 will have a amazing smut scene since I have only been giving you guys a small taste. But I hope you all have a amazing night / day!! Till next time<3.

-|| lulu || / author.

[hovercraft79]

Writer Asks

I love doing these! They hardly ever come around anymore and I miss these. Thank you @bitchbrisket for sending this my way.

How many works do you have on AO3?

36

What’s your total AO3 word count?

664,309

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly The Worst Witch 2017, but there’s also a couple of Bletchley Circle fics on there, as well as an unpublished Xena and a Rosemary and Thyme wip.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Divine

Into the Great Wide Open

One Thing Leads to Another

Ghost

Winter Song

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to always comment. Comments are a gift and I want to recognize the time someone took tell me they liked my work. Plus, I love talking about writing and stories and all that.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Life has enough angst already, I don’t need to add to it with my fics. I much prefer a happy ending. That said, since I’ve left everyone hanging on Stella Caeli for 6 months (I’m so sorry!) and it’s at a disaster cliffhanger, it would be that. I am almost done with the next installment, though, so hopefully soon it won’t be angsty either.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Maybe Divine? That’s the last part of Hecate’s Summer Playlist. Either that or An Uncertain Spring

Do you get hate on fic?

I haven’t yet.

Do you write smut?

It probably comes as a surprise to most of my readers, but yes. Just not in any of the stuff I’ve written for TWW or posted on AO3

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really, though I do enjoy letting Rosemary and Thyme make a cameo every now and then. I’m not against them, just haven’t done it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but Sparky probably deserves a co-writing credit for all of the work she’s put in to my fics.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This is a toughie. Certainly, Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle – or Hecate and Ada Cackle – or Hecate and Julie Hubble. Honorable mentions include Jean McBride and Millie Harcourt, Xena and Gabrielle, Jenny Flint and Madame Vastra, Rosemary and Thyme, Lady Hardcastle and Flo, SuperCorp, Laventon and Cyllene… The list really could go on.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Probably my first fic – a massive crossover with characters from everywhere, a healthy dose of Mary Sue-manship, a bizarre premise that turned out to be not so bizarre when six months or a year after I started it, Galaxy Quest sort of had the main plot point.

What are your writing strengths?

I feel like dialogue is what I do best, followed by plotting.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action sequences. They feel very stilted to me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Sure, write it. I've had bilingual characters.

First fandom you wrote for?

Not counting that first atrocity, Xena and Gabrielle – though technically it’s a Mel & Janice one.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

That is like picking a favorite child, isn’t it? Well, I shan’t be in denial about it. Hecate’s Summer Playlist holds a special place in my heart, closely followed by An Uncertain Spring and All Roads Lead to Home.

If you'd like to play, I'll tag @emiline-northeto @curlywitch14 @hydr0phius @cassiopeiasara and anyone else who'd like to join in.

Questions to respond to:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

[panelshowsource]

saved a few anons asking personal questions not all related to panel shows, spamming answers below the cut :)

she/her!

interesting question! first, i think it's very special that you had the opportunity to study at an international university and i am glad to hear you had so many amazing experiences!

i also feel like i need to preface anything i say with... holidays are obviously different from living, and i hope people can trust that i wouldn't base an entire lifestyle decision off, like, being a fan of taskmaster lmao the state of politics, brexit, housing, prejudice, and more make it difficult to say i'd want to commit to life there — plus i really love new york city, where i do feel at home

that said, i would be open to living in the uk for a period of time, yes. i am certainly very motivated to visit a lot of places, particularly in england, and decided last year to start spending a month or two over there every year (this year i think i will be in york! maybe i can post a little about that if people care). the history and motivations behind that decision are really personal to me, but it feels...right. i am really looking forward to my time there this year and treasure being someone who works remotely and can make that happen

living permanently, it's hard to say, but speaking for my interests in history, architecture, art, cinema — it would be wonderful to explore those things more in person, yes!

i really think in the 6+ years of this blog this is the first i've ever been asked about music! which makes sense ofc it just took me by surprise!

hmmm i think this playlist most accurately expresses what i'm listening to a lot of the time + a lot a lot a lot of classical music, some dad rock, and a few balladeers like judy garland and rufus wainwright

i don't claim to be the world's biggest comedy buff or keep up the best with all of the comedy coming out of the uk and american industries — even though i do enjoy it so much! — but growing up i was very interested in comedy writing. in high school, i worked at a dvd store where people could trade in their old dvds for store credit to buy new ones, so we had a HUGE selection of not only new releases but older, sometimes nicher stuff that you typically wouldn't see at a suburban american blockbuster-like shop. i can't stress how formative this was! i would always go through the store and "beautify" the shelves (pulling all the spines up neatly, keeping everything alphabetised, etc) just to constantly look through what we had in stock, grab the old black bar criterion films before some movie buff snatched them up, touch all the special editions (physical releases were more than just steelbooks back then, like stuff like this). each of the employees had a little shelf in the back room where you could store dvds you wanted to buy when you eventually had the money, keeping them off the floor so no customer would see and buy them. i was always reserving 30+ dvds at a time and spent my whole paychecks at work hahaha

anyways, that's how i found a lot of the random british films i ended up loving — by people trading them in or me just running across them at the store: a cock and bull story, death at a funeral, this is england, gosford park, monty python, (particularly holy grail and life of brian), confetti (didn't love this one but it had a lot of actors i really liked in it so i remember watching it quite a few times) and more — but especially withnail and i and in the loop. i was fucking obsessed with in the loop, which i watched on a loop (zing!) and was ultimately how i worked my way backwards to the thick of it as well as shows like the office uk, alan partridge, green wing, fry and laurie, peep show, and more. (the thick of it and peep show were particularly everything to me!) i still have all of the dvds from the dvd store i worked at! lol

in terms of american comedy, i was obsessed with the state and then their groups' projects like wet hot american summer and reno 911 (michael showalter is a great example of a writer/director i don't think is one of the greats but follows his heart & vision, and i really respect that; my fave of his, which is genuinely so good, is hello my name is doris! underrated lil treasure). i also really loved it's always sunny, flight of the conchords, party down, arrested development, jackass and wild boys, and house md, and some of the wild characters on bravo lmao. we had this channel called logo that was my lifeline to queer content before i really had full-time access to the internet outside of a shared family computer, so i was always watching reruns of jeffrey & cole casserole, the big gay sketch show, plus the l word and queer as folk, and they also did syndication of reno 911 (but i already had all the box sets of that 😭). i was never heavy into the judd apatow/bro comedy that was so big in the 2000s, and even the 80s–90s american comedy heavily influenced by the talent at snl wasn't particularly engaging to me; of that, my favourites were probably throw momma from the train and a couple of romcoms

+ every panel show i could get my hands on! and i think because i was really engaged with sketch comedy i was also reading a lot of playwrights, especially alan bennett, harold pinter, and edward albee, who i had (and have!) huge collections of

and, yes, so many of these are at the foundation of my very favourite formats and styles of comedy: mockumentaries , black comedy or dark comedy, existential comedy, stories rooted in reality or plausibility / domestic dramedy. i used to be very engaged by sketch comedy and wanted to crack the science behind writing funny sketches, but i do think i've moved away from that format and filled that void with the improv nature of panel shows (it works for me the way i think the format of podcasts work for so many other people... i wonder if anyone will relate to that comparison)

comedy evolves so much by the decade and i appreciate a lot of the ways in which it has grown, so i don't think of it as a then vs now, which is better, whatever. and like you i can't help but revisit my nostalgic faves often!

i do think eventually he will! but rn he's lapping up that tv money hahaha my very fave is firing cheeseballs at a dog, but they're all genuinely great!

[waltwhitmansbeard]

a my fair lady playlist

a year ago today i posted the first chapter of my fair lady, which was supposed to be a little thing that i just needed to get out of my head after reading @romeoandjulietyouwish's for the love of a princess. 144 chapters and one year of obsession later, what i got is my biggest writing project to date. it was also my first real foray into the cr fandom, which has since become, frankly, the biggest part of my life, and i'm just endlessly grateful to each of you who read and interacted with mfl in any way. i'm so lucky to have gotten to share this with all of you.

so to celebrate, i have assembled a way-too-long playlist inspired by the events of mfl. the songs represent the moments and feelings that most stood out to me (or that i could find an appropriate song for, lol). it was fun trying to remember everything that happened (as of rn the entire fic is 450 pages in google docs so...there's a lot) and piece together the story through song. i've written a little blurb to justify each choice in the cut below, but you can listen to the playlist on spotify here! thanks again for sticking around!

1. "My Fair Lady" - KALEO as the song from which i took all the titles for the series, i couldn't not start off with this one. i can't even hear this song now without thinking of mfl.

2. "Security" - Joss Stone since this is a song about being there for a friend in a time of crisis, i thought it was the perfect choice for the beginning of keyleth and percy's lifelong friendship. percy showed up in zephrah traumatized and barely holding it together, and keyleth was the rock that kept him from collapsing.

3. "Best of Friends" - Pearl Bailey marisha put this one on one of her keyleth playlists to represent keyleth and percy, and she was right! is there any better song for those two growing up as best friends?

4. "Fountain" - Sara Lov keyleth grew up under the shadow of her mother's loss and the pressure of a nation's expectations. someone give this child a BREAK!

5. "Uptown Girl" - Billy Joel oh, you think this is about vax and keyleth? WRONG. percy is an uptown girl and vex is his downtown man coming to shake his world.

6. "Stay Awake" - London Grammar how many nights did keyleth and vax stay up with the moon, learning to love each other? who did they become with no one but the shadows and each other to watch them grow?

7. "goodnight n go" - Ariana Grande this song just gives me such intense vex vibes. she wants so bad to get percy out from under her skin but no dice, he's there to stay.

8. "Foolish Thing" - Darren Criss vax knows that he absolutely cannot be catching feelings for the princess for any number of reasons. but that doesn't stop him from being a dumbfuck in love!

9. "Sacrilege" - The Yeah Yeah Yeahs keyleth knows that she absolutely cannot be catching feelings for her guard for any number of reasons. but that doesn't stop her from being a dumbfuck in love!

10. "You Get Me" - Michelle Branch even though she grew up royalty, keyleth never felt like she fit in in her own world. she was always different, out of place. but vax sees her strange edges and knows the shape they make.

11. "Dreams" - Caroline Glaser keyleth is down bad! she can't sleep without vax there, and vax is more than happy to reassure her that she's it for him.

12. "Take Me to Church" - Hozier this is my pick for some night just seem forever lasting, because if there's one thing vax is gonna do it's worship on his knees at keyleth's altar.

13. "Holy" - King Princess keyleth is busy with a nation and a war but she has time at the end of the day to fuck her man, and that's what really matters.

14. "Into You" - Ariana Grande this one is for the true sluts of the castle, vex and percy. stay horny, you absolute lovesick fools.

15. "River of Tears" - Alessia Cara just absolute depression and forlorn longing from vax and keyleth both when they're forced to be apart. drama queens, the both of them.

16. "The Lightning Strike (Part I: What If This Storm Ends?)" - Snow Patrol remember that time keyleth summoned lightning and used it to strike a bunch of attackers dead? so do i, and so does vax. it was his first time being confronted with the possibilities of the wild power she wields, and it definitely isn't something he was ever going to forget.

17. "Rich Youth" - Hayley Kiyoko keyleth and tiberius were both raised in the shadow of powerful fathers, and they came together to advocate for a future that represents the nations they want to lead.

18. "My Immortal" - Evanescence thank you to @ravendruid for the suggestion! does anything say vaxleth more than melodramatic longing? this song is for all the lingering heartbreak as they tried (and ultimately failed) to stay apart for so long.

19. "I Don't Mind" - Darren Criss one of my favorite pieces of writing from mfl was keyleth's proposal to vax. he's so convinced that she'd be better off without him, and all she wants to do is convince him that he's worth all the trouble waiting them.

20. "Love Story" - Taylor Swift forgive me for adding taylor swift to this list but you gotta admit, it's very appropriate for the vaxleth wedding.

21. "Dancing in the Rain" - Johannes Bornlöf let me be indulgent! this is the song i picked to play while reading the wedding chapter, so ofc it makes the list.

22. "The Deal" - Mitski thank you to @crispysnake for the suggestion! i mean, this is absolutely vax carrying his dead wife's body beneath the castle and striking a deal with the raven queen to bring her back. it's like it's what the song was written for.

23. "Castle" - Halsey just big keyleth charging to the throne room to demand her father release vax energy with this one.

24. "Growing, Growing, Gone" - Theo Katzman korrin was confronted very suddenly with the reality that his little girl wasn't a little girl anymore. she has a whole life ahead of her that is outside of him, and that's hard for a dad to come to terms with.

25. "Kiki (feat. Iron and Wine)" - Rett Madison y'all, the way i SCREAMED when i first heard this song on rett's new album!!! i just imagine vilya trying to reach out to keyleth, to let her know that she's been watching and of course, of course she's proud of her, of course she approves of vax, of course she wants nothing more than for her baby girl to happy.

26. "Wildflowers (Tom Petty Cover)" - Miley Cyrus this song makes me thing of the little cottage on the hill, and of korrin's wish for his daughter to have a place where she feels free. he knows that the castle has never really felt like her home, and so he gives her and her new husband a place they can build a home for themselves.

27. "Bubbly" - Colbie Caillat this song is just the pinnacle of happy love. it's vax and keyleth waking up in their bed, in their house, in their love's arms. it's happiness.

28. "Sunday Morning" - Maroon 5 remember that time vex was like "this was fun but i gotta go home" and percy was like "but what if i was home?" and fluttered his lashes like a harlot? me too.

29. "Family Tree" - Matthew West pending fatherhood is terrifying, especially when your own father is a sack of shit. of course vax would doubt his own ability to be for his child what syldor couldn't be for him and vex.

30. "A Woman's Work" - Kate Bush the definitive anthem for women creating life. keyleth is a goddess for so many reason but especially for making a literal person.

31. "Dear Theodosia" - Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton just DAD feelings up in this bitch! vax is a dad and korrin is a dad and percy (eventually) is a dad! also there's a new nation coming just around the corner! the perfect song!

32. "Brother Run Fast" - KALEO to me, this song represents vax and percy's understanding that the horrors of percy's past are coming for vax's present, and the two of them will stop at nothing to fix what was broken. they are both desperate for forgiveness they do not need, and they are both determined to keep the other on course.

33. "Yours & Mine" - Lucy Dacus imagine telling keyleth of the air ashari to sit at home while her family and friends venture out to save her daughter's life. IMAGINE!

34. "Trials - Demo" - London Grammar what is keyleth and vax's relationship if not an endless gauntlet of trials from which they must continually find their way back to each other?

35. "Delilah" - Florence + the Machine this song is just...everything. it's delilah and sylas. it's cass and the ghosts of the castle she's caged in. it's vilya, crying out for her mother. it's keyleth, coming to kick ass with a daylight spell. it's percy, reclaiming what was his all along.

36. "Show Me the Way" - Styx vax went THRU IT during gocmh, and his turning to the raven queen was a move of absolute desperation. he needed his matron's guidance not only to get his daughter back, but to put the pieces of his life back together.

37. "Glory and Gore" - Lorde what can i say? vox machina fucks shit up.

38. "Work Song" - Hozier percy may die twice but that ain't gonna stop him from simping for vex.

39. "Happiness" - The Fray this song is about happiness, but it has such a melancholic sound to it, which really works for baby vilya's return to zephrah. yes she's home, which is an immense relief, but she's brought home to a tragedy. nothing is simple.

40. "Kingdom of One" - Maren Morris hey vallen: get fucked.

41. "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)" - Billy Joel this is, to me, the ultimate father-daughter song, and in the context of mfl it makes me think of the unfinished letter keyleth found in her father's room after his death. just a reminder that even after someone dies, their love for those they leave behind never will.

42. "Starts With Goodbye" - Carrie Underwood i don't know what it's like to fundamentally reshape the structure of an entire nation in order to secure a more stable future for your child, but i imagine it feels like this!

43. "Matchstick" - American Royalty thank you to @ravendruid for the suggestion! sometimes self-care is setting the man who murdered your parents and helped kidnap your daughter on fire.

44. "Chords" - The Amazing Devil parents play such a big part in the story of mfl. the absence of keyleth's mother, the fact that her father is also a king, korrin being a father to percy, the twins confronting the father they fled, and of course, vaxleth and perc'ahlia becoming parents themselves. if there's anything they can take away from all of the heartbreak, it's wanting the best for their children, at the cost of everything else.

45. "Everywhere, Everything" - Noah Kahan had to end on some noah kahan in order to keep @crispysnake from gnawing at the bars of their enclosure. again, just the absolute vaxleth melodrama of "wanna love you til we're food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose." disgusting. i love them so much.

[kencoded-kengirl]

ULTIMATE SWIFTIECESSION MASTERPOST

does kendall roy listen to taylor swift? was willa ferreyra actually sighted at the eras tour? why did stewy hosseini post “STREAM SPEAK NOW TAYLOR’S VERSION” on his instagram story last night? these are all questions that have haunted the minds of succession fans since the show’s creation. you might not know who the biggest swiftie in succession is, but that’s okay, because i do. jesse armstrong informed me personally, and i will now relay this vital information to all of you: from most devoted fan to the most casual of listeners, here are the top ten swifties of hbo’s succession.

1. KERRY CASTELLABATE

kerry loves taylor swift and listens to her unironically almost constantly. she thinks that the last great american dynasty was written about her. she abuses taylor swift music in order to romanticize her relationship with logan. she got bangs to be more like taylor. no other deserves the title of most avid swiftie at waystar.

2. SOPHIE ROY

sophie is technically a bigger fan than kerry but she is way less sick in the head about it. she’s just a little girl who loves taylor whose rich deadbeat dad got her eras tour tickets for her birthday because he can’t remember any of her other interests. (rava and iverson roy honorable mentions, they went to the eras tour together.)

3. EBBA

ebba is convinced that taytay wrote would’ve could’ve should’ve specifically about the fact that her ex will not stop sending her frozen bricks of his own blood. sometimes, if you’re hanging out with her, she’ll ask if you want to watch something, and then she’ll put on the all too well ten minute version music video like it’s a movie. feels a sense of devastation over the fact that taylor doesn’t have tour dates in sweden until 2024.

4. NAOMI PIERCE

in season four when kendall said that his relationship with naomi was a “carnival of mindfuck,” he was referring to the fact that they were once texting and he let it slip that he “doesn’t know why taylor keeps rereleasing albums” and that he’s “just going to keep listening to the originals because they’re better,” and then naomi blocked him on everything and they literally haven’t spoken since.

5. WILLA FERREYRA

willa also thinks the last great american dynasty is about her. she listens to taylor’s music religiously but doesn’t actually care about any of the relationship drama or even the politics. she was super excited that taylor was in the cats, though, (it’s her favorite musical) and genuinely defends the movie’s quality.

6. GREGORY HIRSCH

greg is a social swift listener. he definitely likes her music and has playlists, but, frankly, he mainly just likes understanding tiktok discourse. it’s his life goal to get rich enough to run in the same social circles as her, meet her, and live out a taylor swift x yn fanfiction fantasy in real life. also, he is pretty sure the last great american dynasty is about tom. or himself.

7. KARL MULLER

this started as a joke because the old guard have been colleagues and waystar employees for 30+ years and there comes a time when you need to branch out to make your work background playlists nonrepetitive. gerri started putting taylor songs on their playlist mainly because her daughter, peti, said that she should, and karl slowly but surely became a huge fan.

8. STEWY HOSSEINI

make no mistake, stewy does not like taylor swift. he would sooner die than be caught with a taylor song on a playlist he actually listens to. however, if stewy is 1 thing in this life, that thing is a male manipulator. as a result, he has cultivated an extensive swiftie persona complete with favorite songs, albums, and knowledge of discourse, which he uses to pick up swifties at bars. he has 1 taylor swift playlist that he sends to people like “i made this about us 🥺💕” but he actually just renames and reuses it every time he meets someone new. he has cried while listening to folklore once on accident.

9. ROMAN ROY

roman also does not organically listen to taylor swift. he is trying the male manipulator false swiftie strategy as well but he cares less and is exponentially worse at it than stewy, because he has never in his life been attracted to a taylor swift fan. he tried it on tabitha and she earnestly threatened to break up with him if he was a real taylor swift fan. he tried in on gerri when she wasn’t really paying attention and she said, “what is this? i think my daughters listen to this,” which gave roman such a severe ick he never brought it up again. he tried it on matsson as well, but it made him think of ebba and he ghosted roman for a week.

10. SHIV ROY

shiv thinks the last great american dynasty is about her. she’s not necessarily invested but she knows the songs that play on the radio. shiv has actually personally met taylor and they don’t get along. she also actively believes that taylor dating matty healy was worse than taylor’s private jet usage qualifying her as a climate criminal. she has used word-for-word quotes from getaway car while arguing with tom.

DISCLAIMER: this list was not made by a swiftie. if it seems like bullshit, that’s because it is.😄👍

[up-in-space-reading]

Average Weekly Screentime - Chap 2: Motorbikes and Movie Nights

pairing: Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago

word count: 1908

warnings/tags: college au, texting, drunk texting, text fic (mostly, there's prose a few chaps in), bets, bisexual!jake peralta, jake peralta has adhd, parties, drinking and alcohol, sexual references, implied sexual content (nothing explicit, just suggested its going to happen/has happened), friends to lovers, swearing, mentions of cannibalism, lighthearted threats of violence (typical rosa stuff yk), fluff

read on ao3

Average Weekly Screentime masterlist

Story Summary: texting fic college AU with the squad! It's the beginning of the school year and while everyone else thinks it'll be the same as the previous year, Gina has a feeling things are going to be different and wagers a bet with Rosa and Charles. Told through all the various group chats everyone is in.

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: i was gonna wait until i had more written to post another chapter but i felt bad making you wait so here is another chapter! i wanted to title this chapter differently but the one i first came up with rhymes so we've GOTTA stick with that.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!! <3

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:23am, Thursday]

Queen G: okay we NEED to go to a party this weekend or im gonna start pulling my hair out Queen G: im being semi-serious btw

RoRo: name a time and place RoRo: I just show up if I feel like it

Pineapples: gina ur a genius Pineapples: party this weekend is a m u s t

Mr Grapes: I’m in but does anyone even know someone having a party

Four Eyes: I’m with Rosa, name the time and place and I’ll see if I can make it

Queen G: firstly – ur not getting out of this one amy, nice try tho Queen G: secondly – charles I know MANY people and at least one of them will be having a party Queen G: give me 10 and I’ll sort everyones weekend plans

Pineapples: love u gina

Queen G: thank u

-

Sexy Bitches

[11:28am, Thursday]

Sexy: what are ur weekend plans ter?

Ter Bear: James is throwing a party at ours on Saturday. Claims its his birthday but his birthday is in summer

Sexy: and im assuming ur gonna invite ur bestie gina?

Ter Bear: Sure, but you can’t DJ

Sexy: seriously??? Sexy: what if i sent u my playlist Sexy: u can make an informed decision

Ter Bear: Fine, but I’m not making any promises

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:33am, Thursday]

Queen G: great news! Queen G: ter bear having a party at his

Pineapples: count me in!

Mr Grapes: me too!

RoRo: yeah sure

Four Eyes: I don’t know..

Pineapples: still recovering from the last party??

Four Eyes: Very much so Four Eyes: I’ll come but no drinking

Queen G: boooooooo

Four Eyes: I’ll be designated driver?

Queen G: amy ur the beessttt

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:38am, Thursday]

Ferris: u dont have to come

Cameron: I know, I’ll probably regret if I don’t though. My mother keeps bothering me to make sure I’m making the most out college

Ferris: what if making the most out of it is being a regular in the library and handing assignments in a week early Ferris: has ur mom ever considered that

Cameron: Haha I don’t think she has but I’ll bring it up next time she calls me

Ferris: tell her i said that Ferris: i want credit

Cameron: Will do

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[9:06pm, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Leaving my dorm now, you all better be ready. Meet you in the parking lot.

Queen G: rosa and i on our way

Pineapples: charles and i also on our way

Four Eyes: Can’t believe I wasn’t invited to any of the getting ready sessions?!

Queen G: we were pregaming Queen G: next time u will be invited

Four Eyes: Fine. Now get your asses down here.

-

[10:04pm, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Can’t believe I’ve already lost Rosa, does anyone know where she is?

Queen G: with me Queen G: we’re dancing and drinking

Four Eyes: Fantastic

-

[11:24pm, Saturday]

Pineapples: anyone seen amy?? Pineapples: cant find her

RoRo: shut up or come to the kitchen and drink peralta

Queen G: charles hitting on a girl Queen G: trainwreck

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:26pm, Saturday]

Ferris: where r u?

Cameron: Outside, it was too loud inside

Ferris: u okay?

Cameron: I’m fine, will be in soon

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[12:28pm, Sunday]

Pineapples: my whole body has dry mouth

Four Eyes: I’m not surprised considering you almost threw up in my car

Pineapples: worth it

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[12:43pm, Sunday]

Ferris: u alright?

Cameron: I’m fine, I just really don’t think I was in the mood for that party last night

Ferris: fair enough Ferris: when i feel like that i pretend to be a different person

Cameron: I’m not surprised you do that, maybe next time I’ll try it. For now I’m gonna focus on studying

Ferris: as if u need to do more

Cameron: There’s always new material to be worked on, you know

Ferris: news to me lol

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[06:54pm, Tuesday]

Pineapples: calling it now Pineapples: anakin is darth vader

Four Eyes: Wait what???

Mr Grapes: jake, have you ever seen star wars??

Pineapples: this is my first time! Pineapples: i get why people like these

Four Eyes: Oh my God..

Pineapples: i gotta ask tho Pineapples: why the purple lightsaber

Mr Grapes: don’t worry about it, it really doesn’t matter

Pineapples: sure thing!

-

[07:45pm, Tuesday]

Pineapples: im literally so smart guys

Four Eyes: Jake in the nicest way possible, everyone knew about Anakin

Pineapples: seriously??

Queen G: even i knew that and i dont watch movies like that

Pineapples: aw man…

RoRo: Jake ‘I worked out that Anakin was Darth Vader all on my own’ Peralta

Pineapples: idc i still liked the movie

-

Bi Besties

[04:02pm, Wednesday]

Dagger: if you message me one more time about this I’ll burn your die hard poster

El Baboso: i know about motorbikes I swear!

Dagger: gina knows more about motorbikes than you do

El Baboso: wanna take that bet?

Dagger: NO JAKE

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[04:04pm, Wednesday]

Pineapples: @Queen G can u name some motorbikes?

Queen G: sure thing babe Queen G: bike 1, bike 2, bike 3, bike 4, bike 5, bike 6, harry Harley, harriet Harley, henry Harley, hobie Harley, hotel Harley, and bike 7

RoRo: I have nothing to say

Pineapples: check. mate.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:03pm, Friday]

Ferris: amy can i be super honest with u rn?

Cameron: Of course, is everything okay?

Ferris: this is hard for me to admit tbh Ferris: but ive gotta do whats best

Cameron: Jake, you’re making me worried

Ferris: i need help

Cameron: Are you alright? What’s going on?

Ferris: im behind on assignments and idk what im doing Ferris: can u help me???

Cameron: That’s it?! You scared the hell out of me! Cameron: Yes, I can help you with the assignments as long as you don’t do that again

Ferris: pinky promise! Ferris: library tomorrow??

Cameron: Sounds good

-

Dance Squad

[01:32pm, Saturday]

G-Hive: ive just gotten some incredibly interesting news

Charlese: dish sis!

G-Hive: ignoring that G-Hive: jake and amy are studying together at the library

Scary: and?

G-Hive: and?! G-Hive: they’re getting cozy

Charlese: they didn’t invite anyone else? that’s weird

G-Hive: i never thought id say this but thank you charles! G-Hive: you get it!!

Scary: so what, you think there’s something happening?

G-Hive: nothing serious because its just studying but voluntarily spending time alone together G-Hive: bit suspish if u ask me

Charlese: its all coming together and im on track to win this bet Charlese: get ready to pay up guys

Scary: absolutely not happening, just because they’re studying alone together doesn’t mean they’re gonna get together in the next three weeks

G-Hive: but its a step in the right direction

Charlese: i still have confidence

Scary: and its still misplaced

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[10:06am, Wednesday]

Cameron: Holt has just sent out an email cancelling this afternoon’s class, do you want to go to the library and work on your assignments for a bit?

Ferris: thats great news i should really check my email more Ferris: library sounds good as long as we get food Ferris: im hungry

Cameron: Did you not have breakfast this morning?

Ferris: ran out of fruit loops Ferris: heartbreaking tbh

Cameron: Your nutrition (or lack thereof) scares me

Ferris: thank u!

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[09:35pm, Thursday]

Queen G: manifesting that one day ill have a famous bf

RoRo: are you doing anything to actually achieve that goal?

Queen G: chris evans is bad in bed and if he wants me to stop saying it he’ll have to come prove me wrong

Pineapples: i second that!!

-

[11:32am, Saturday]

Four Eyes: Does anyone want to come get lunch at Sal’s?

Queen G: cant, getting my nails done

RoRo: also can’t, gina dragged me to her nail appointment

Pineapples: yeah im down for lunch

Mr Grapes: I’m ordering in Ethiopian so I’ll pass Mr Grapes: next time though!

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[11:34am, Saturday]

Cameron: Meet outside the building?

Ferris: see u in a few!

-

Dance Squad

[11:34am, Saturday]

G-Hive: its all happening babes

Scary: sure it is

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[01:08am, Friday]

Pineapples: i wanna start by saying that i will NOT be held accountable for my own actions Pineapples: now, free of judgement Pineapples: how do i get red wine out of carpet

-

[01:13am, Friday]

Pineapples: you guys suck

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[01:16am, Friday]

*Ferris made an audio call to Cameron*

“Jake, what’s wrong?”

“I spilled a drink on the carpet of my dorm and I don’t know what to do, they’ll charge me to replace the carpet or something and I can’t afford that-“

“Okay okay, calm down it’s gonna be fine. What did you spill, and be honest with me”

“Red wine..”

“What?”

“I wanted to try it because I’ve never had it before and I went to put the glass down on the table and miscalculated and knocked my hand and it spilled”

“Is your hand okay?”

“Yeah its fine”

“Okay great, the next time you drink red wine in your dorm I’m going to kill you. Now, you’re gonna need two cups of warm water, tablespoon of dish soap, tablespoon of vinegar and mix together. Pour on the stain in little bits and blot until its disappeared”

“You’re a lifesaver Ames, I owe you big time”

“Yes you do. Now I’m going back to sleep, goodnight”

“Goodnight”

-

[01:29am, Friday]

Cameron: 1 image attached Cameron: good as new!

-

[08:02am, Friday]

Ferris: I’m glad. Never drink red wine in your dorm ever again.

-

[10:12am, Friday]

Cameron: i promise!

-

The Night Boys

[10:15am, Friday]

Sidewinder: sorry I didn’t see your message in the chat Sidewinder: how did u go with the stain?

Deathblade: i called amy and she told me how to clean it up Deathblade: looks good as new now! Deathblade: 1 image attached

Sidewinder: THAT’S SO GREAT

Deathblade: thanks

-

Dance Squad

[10:17am, Friday]

Charlese: 1 image attached Charlese: well well well

G-Hive: boyle if u win this bet im going to delete my insta

Charlese: tempting offer but I’ll do you the kindness of just taking your $50

G-Hive: god i hate u

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[11:49am, Saturday]

Pineapples: anyone up for a movie night tonight?

Queen G: only if its a fun movie

RoRo: why not

Mr Grapes: absolutely!! looking through my DVDs as we speak

Four Eyes: Yeah sure, I could use a break

Pineapples: wonderful!! Pineapples: pls gather at mine at like 8 and bring ur best movie suggestion Pineapples: everyone give me money for Chinese food

Queen G: god ur cheap

Pineapples: im not made of money gina

Four Eyes: How much do you want?

Pineapples: lets call it an even $12 each

Mr Grapes: worth it for a movie night with my buds

RoRo: boyle ruined it

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:23pm, Saturday]

Ferris: btw i liked ur movie suggestion Ferris: even if gina didnt

Cameron: Thanks :)

-

Dance Squad

[09:03pm, Saturday]

Charlese: they’re sitting next to each other

G-Hive: and im sitting next to rosa G-Hive: doesnt mean we’re in love with each other

Charlese: its gotta mean SOMETHING

Scary: it doesn’t mean shit except that there’s hardly any seating in this dorm

Charlese: you guys have no sense of romance

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: Fun fact: that star wars thing is literally me, i didn't know anakin was darth vader and then guessed it when i watched the movies for the first time and everyone was like "you didn't know???!!!". The motorbike one is also a direct quote from my bestie <3

I tried to be less party heavy this chapter, they do have a life outside of going to house parties but i will warn the next chapter involves a party (i am gonna tease that there's non-texting writing in it tho). Also this chapter now with added terry for one of the lovely commenters on the first chap, it isnt much but i hope u liked it!

Thanks again, i love you!! <3 next chap will be out as soon as its done!

[womensmusiccanon]

From Qaraami to Dance-Pop - Women of East Africa

Starting our journey off in... Eastern Africa! Yeah, alright, maybe spoiled slightly in the title of the post.

I've had so much fun with this over the last few weeks, and the result of that is brought to you here through some of my top picks. A moment of silence for the albums I wanted to include but didn't due to not being easily accessible </3

The list is not ordered or ranked in any way, though I will admit I've a certain fondness for Saba and Khadja Nin in particular <3.

For ease of access, here's a playlist of some top tracks from each album (ca. and hour and a half), here's an extended version with additional tracks from some artists not featured on this list (ca. two and a half hours), and here's a playlist of the full albums (ca. seven hours), for all your shuffling needs.

Saba - Jidka (2007) Spotify Youtube - A fun and playful somali italian-influenced pop record with some elements R&B, uplifting and a joy to listen to. As a side node, Saba's life story is definitely a google worth, imo.

Mim Suleiman - Umbeya (2012) Bandcamp Spotify Youtube - An obvious inclusion in my book, just a great beat / electro album with some elements of soul. You really fall into the world of this album.

Aster Aweke - Aster (1989) Spotify Youtube A lovely Tizita album, a gem of ms. Aweke's sizeable discography (which you are definitely encouraged to dig into <3). I am so in love with the horns and little flourishes, and the rhythm is just... mwah. Aweke ties it all together really well.

Khadja Nin - Ya Pili (1994) Spotify Youtube - A already mentioned my fondness for Ms. Nin, but damn if it doesn't bear repeating... By all accounts an incredible record that really should be on your list.

Faytinga - Numey (2006) Spotify Youtube - The steady rhythms and Faytinga's distinctive vocals makes for a great experience certain to draw you in. Impresseive record from an equally impressive person.

Muthoni Drummer Queen - She (2018) Bandcamp Spotify Youtube - A bubbling hip hop album with some flavors of R&B and dancehall. The production on this is great and Muthoni is an incredibly engaged performer. It's just overflowing with life and so, so definitely worth a listen.

Sophie Nzayisenga - Queen of Inanga (2021) Bandcamp Spotify Youtube - The album title says it all, really. Even as someone who's not traditionally drawn to the acoustic for the most part, I really enjoyed this album.

Maryam Mursal - The Journey (1998) Bandcamp Spotify Youtube - An unavoidable inclusion on a list like this, and for good reason. A poppy qaraami record with some jazzy notes that deserves all of the acclaim it's gathered over the years - Mursal clearly knows what she's doing and she does it well.

MC Yallah - Yallah Beibe (2023) Bandcamp Spotify Youtube - Ending here with a very recent release, MC Yallah's latest is just such a solid hip hop record. It flows really well, and the industrial undertones really worked for me, which is rare. Definitely someone to keep a look on, imo.

... and that's the list!

Do you have any favorites not on here? Please (please <3) feel more than free to share! Have fun!

[butchismo]

16, 55, 73!!!

From this post

16. Do you have any tattoos? I don't but this year I am planning on getting my first based off of the labrys and minotaur!! I may post sketches/the idea of it at some point if you guys are interested?

55. Share a relationship story. I bought Pixie tickets for us to go to the Eras Tour in LA last August! We spent months making like 300 bracelets(unrelated but impressive imo). So background, Pixie LOVES sharing music, she loves making playlists and she loves telling me about songs. The first song she ever said reminded her of us was Long Live. We get in, we watch the count down, I get to watch her awe and excitement and crying for a few songs. I had, however, made her go into the concert blind, and I had sort of forgotten about Long Live being on the set list in all the prep for the concert. The song starts and I start sobbing like full on ugly crying unable to breathe enough to sing along, and she gave me all her attention for the song. She sang to me and rocked me in her arms and only laughed a little at how emotional I was. And then she was looking away from me and the stage for a couple seconds so I obviously look up and there is a CAMERA pointed RIGHT AT US. I was super embarrassed and like "well at least me being whipped is immortalized and it ISNT EVEN IN THE CONCERT MOVIE!!!! Taylor Nation I am coming for you.

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you? Pixie is actually like super on top of my needs, but I really miss when she would kiss my forehead before I napped while she stayed up to do things. Non-dating-relationship wise I would love for people to gift me cookbooks :3

[faithfromanewperspective]

The sticky lens of gender, part 2: Michelle/Matthew Fairchild, scandal, mortal danger, self-harm, healing love, and Bejeweled

Can she still make the whole place shimmer? Does she need to, and could a woman even be expected to at all, in Edwardian London?

@thevagabondexpress has a habit of creating (or rather reimagining) the most heartbreaking and endearing and three-dimensional characters (thus pausing my fic writing so I can do this instead in the same document while I’m on the bus outside places I can connect to wi-fi, my phone having died just at the very end of Easy For You To Say, so now I’m listening to Cold As You from the CD I burned onto my laptop last decade. Xe should become a famous fantasy author. And my fic will be better after analysing the characters from this perspective—that is, a parallel universe in which everything is shifted just enough to feel trippy. Maybe the series drugged me, or maybe I went to Tasmania. See, I’m going off on tangents like Matthew Fairchild would, I’m not sure about Michelle).

Misha’s probably the one character that the story had to change the most. And the main thing I’ll attribute it to, other than the fact that the events of Cast Long Shadows couldn’t happen to a genderbent Charlotte and Henry, is the extreme double standard when it comes to sexual expression and scandal. Different trauma and a different event she just can’t let go of. Overall, it means, similarly to Judith, that I think we see a little clearer how fragile she is, and just how much she’s suffering alone. So buckle up for a long post (and there's a playlist coming).

I’m trying to trace the cause-and-effect between story and perception, where the impact of society on these characters has created the rift between the Revolutionary Company (?) and the Merry Thieves. Maybe it’s in their group name but the general vibe I get is that they seem a lot more unhappy. Or they hold their pain a lot closer to the surface. Michelle starts off like this, at least. As time goes on—not so much. (Which is maybe why I’m so worried about her). I think this is where it’s most obvious that it was written pre-Chain of Thorns, where most of Matthew’s story arc (which might be my favourite in all of TSC) happens. Misha hasn’t gotten there yet. Maybe she’s not the same person, off chasing colourful adventures. Maybe she would be, given she marries someone who has. Maybe a girl who’s creative and charming and friendly wouldn’t get the same attention and validation that a boy would, but criticised, chastised, corrected. Wouldn’t develop the confidence to travel alone, but would be drawn to someone who did. Maybe this is a prime example of the intersection of growing up female and neurodivergent, in a society where there were a lot of pressures on women (and it’s true, isn’t it, that the lack of demons in London for so many years was what catalysed the importation of mundane prejudices and silly social rules into the Enclave). She beats herself up over everything. She’s less unapologetically herself, and instead, the self-destructiveness behind the things she does are more obvious, given that it’s not just being a bohemian, it’s endangering her life without thought to the consequences. As if the consequences of staying still would be worse than whatever could be out there—I understand that one all too well. I’d be so worried if I were Hattie and Chester. I’m surprised Judith isn’t, and Tracey too. I can see why Fields is. But there’s not a lot any of them can do, except be there without judgement.

And I think that’s true of Matthew as well. It’s been coined on here a fair bit that his promiscuity (is that a mean word to say? I don’t want to mean it that way) is a form of self-harm, and I’d say also escapism. I’d say his whole experience with Downworld is, from that first day in CLS Jem saw him at the Shadow Market: he seems almost too happy and in awe then, as if it’s so starkly contrasted to the constraining, unbearable, painful-but-he-doesn’t-know-why life that he’s just high on all of it, and that high makes him unstable. It’s both a form of hypomania that I’m only starting to learn how to conceptualise (in my view, I may be wrong) and an abstraction of the way that people who have been abused as children tend to seek out (unintentionally, but it feels familiar but different enough to trick them into thinking it’s healthier, while having no concept of that that actually is) relationships that are also abusive. In Matthew’s case, the Hell Ruelle treat him as—what was it?—“a silly child, who is drawn to the flame because it is beautiful, without thinking that he might get hurt”—or something along those lines. It’s exciting and thrilling rather than dull responsibility, but either way, he grew up taking care of his father and feeling like he had no value otherwise, and now he spends his free time being entertaining and flirtatious and feeling like he has no value otherwise. I think in Matthew’s case that isn’t specifically addressed—his drinking is, and it’s linked back to that one traumatic event, but if you can read between the lines there is so much more that he’s caught up in and it’s kind of terrifying. Somehow, having a genderbent character makes it more explicit: that Michelle’s lifestyle could have killed her if it weren’t for her dog. It just hits you that there’s this little 17-18yo girl who can’t stop running into danger, she’s so loved by the other characters and yet running from a kind of torment the reader mostly sees from the outside. (Also I love the conceptualisation of Hattie and how much she cares for her but doesn’t know how). Misha’s the kind of character you want to take care of so overwhelmingly, but it’d be almost impossible to do so in a sustainable way: she keeps everyone, even her parabatai, at arm’s length so she doesn’t take them down with her. And I don’t know how to work with that, but I do relate and I do find that I want to imagine the possibilities of how she might feel better (it’s for me as much as her, and pretty similar to what a lot of us on here do in our matthew fics).

I think the first example we see of this is the shadow-to-chiswick event where Judith just disappears after Misha calls her a child of demons and says that’s where she belongs (canon). But what we don’t see in canon is the way Tracey and Christa send her home after and get mad she said that (in canon matthew is tearing apart the Institute trying to find James). And I know it was plot so she could go out and do things with fields. But I feel like that event kinda broke Misha’s friendship with the others, which, as we see in Chain of Thorns, was something Matthew really needed. Anyway, I feel like their paths branch off quite significantly from there; unfortunately it does mean we miss out on a lot of the parabatai relationship we see between James and Math. But in some ways it does suit these au characters better: both are very independent, and self-destructive in different ways. Not that James and Matthew aren’t, but a lot of what they go through is cushioned by privilege and the simple fact that men can wander around and get up to whatever bad ideas they like, without too great social repercussions or worries for their safety. While I’m there, I think another thing that would’ve been really cool to explore is Misha’s friendship with Addison (alt-Anna) and how they could’ve been there for one another in a way most couldn’t (and in the way we see Matthew and Anna doing exactly that). But instead we have Fields.

Because Misha’s scandal and trauma was to do with a romantic relationship (with an older girl, who was such a careless predator and I hate that for her, I bet she was targeted as the Consul’s daughter the same way Matthew was by Mother Hawthorne) it makes sense to resolve that by putting her in a relationship that has the potential to bring healing. And Fields is also an older girl, which I don’t think really matters but what does is that she is respectful, kind, caring, and wants Misha to heal—at times almost in a forceful way, but she’s self-aware of that and also very much able to radically accept and hold space for her the way her friends and family aren’t able to. Where she doesn’t feel like she has to put her own struggles on hold to look after them. (Matthew also does feel like he has to put his own struggles aside to take care of his friends, which he does imperfectly but it does seem to actually keep him going more often than not: the need to still be a full-functioning shadowhunter I think means his pride is able to keep him from giving up a lot of the time, combined with the love he has for his friends—but for a man to be the mum-friend is seen as going above and beyond; for a woman, it’s kind of expected and we kind of are expected to put our needs on hold to care for absolutely everyone else and then gaslit about having needs or struggles in the first place, creating an endless pile of demands for us to hurt ourselves with when there is no other feasible way out. So I think it is good for Misha to have this taken off her chest even with one person, even if it does mean the close vibe of the girls at the start of the story disintegrates rather than strengthens with what they go through, as it does for the Merry Thieves.)

Speaking of scandal and trauma and how helpless women were at the time, I think one thing that really broke my heart to read was the way Misha collected letters etc that might lead towards Lisette (that’s her name, right) getting some sort of justice. She can’t have much retribution (at least, she doesn’t seem to have the capacity, connections-wise, mental space-wise, etc, to press charges the way Alice does against Claire). She’s also being abused by her older sister, and neither her parents nor parabatai and other friends seem to have the resources to hold space for her to simply let her guard down and just be. Fields does. It’s hard for her, when she has so little power: she has the fame of being the Consul’s daughter, but in some ways it’s worse than not having that at all as all it means is she gets more scrutiny and no real impact. Her Big Trauma was having her secrets and privacy and dignity put in the hands of those who don’t care about her, so many of them, who just judge her and scrutinise and victim-blame until there is no escape. She feels trapped, she was barely holding it together to begin with, and Fields brings with her stories and promise of freedom. In some ways, she’s perfect for Misha. I don’t know if there would be some counterpart who would be perfect for Matthew when he has the ability to chase freedom on his own (also, I think Math can really be himself around James, whereas Judith is very distracted and doesn’t have the  same emotional intelligence that would be able to hold the waterfall of hurt Misha keeps to herself; James finds Matthew both relatable and the fact that he’s a lot more transparent than Misha also makes it easier to air out what exactly he’s feeling, which, I think, often would fall under dysphoric mania). But that leads me to my final point.

This one’s inspired by Taylor Swift’s Bejeweled, the first instalment in my Misha playlist which also includes Tina Arena’s You Set Fire To My Life (@ fields maybe) as well as Taylor Swift’s Tied Together With A Smile, long story short, Cold As You, Innocent, Picture to Burn, Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve, Lavender Haze, mirrorball, and the lakes; Imagine Dragons’ Giants, Dull Knives, and Easy Come Easy Go, 5 Seconds of Summer’s Red Line, TEARS!, COMPLETE MESS, Easy For You To Say, Jet Black Heart, Moodswings, and Rejects; Ashton Irwin’s Heart Shaped Box, Scar, and Drive; Luke Hemmings’ Slip Away, and Diamonds; Little Big Town’s The Thing That Wrecks You; and Delta Goodrem’s Safe to Believe. But the reason I highlight Bejeweled is that it’s a song about discovering yourself as someone who brightens the mood and is the life of the party, after being held back by a relationship, by demands and expectations. Misha is very much held back, except in her case it might be a relationship that helps her find herself again. But it’s too soon to know, I think—I haven’t seen if she is able to become the life of the party like Matthew is, discover herself, create, and brighten up the world.

[soultek]

All She Said Was Faster: A Concept

Author’s Note: I honestly can’t believe it’s taken me this long to post this. I saw Top Gun Maverik nearly a year ago and I was formulating this idea whilst in the cinema but... in true me fashion, I sat on it for a whole year, and am delivering it now! I think the fact I went to a WEC race this year has finally pushed me to polish the edit and post it! 😊

I love Bailey so much she’s actually crossed over into another fic of mine, if you like her, I’ll be happy to post that too!

For those of you new to my ‘concepts’ it’s basically a one scene ‘drabble’ (usually meet-cute) that would be part of a fic I will probably never write the full story of. 

Disclaimer: Obviously apart from Bailey (and Luca) none of the characters are mine. I used an IRL team as her team, but didn’t name any members so no IRL people are involved here.

Warnings: Cat calling... swearing... Jake sometimes might come off as OOC but that’s also kinda the point? I tried to make him walk the line.

Word Count: 5176

Premise: Fighter Jet vs Race Car. An exciting concept - even if the winner seems obvious. And to look at him, Jake would be one to gloat at such a win; but that’s not what he’s running after her for.  On the airfield he’s comfortable... but Bailey wants to know what he’s like once she gets him in her domain... 

--- [Playlist]---

Are you ready for a comeback? Are you ready to fly? Are you ready for the moment? Get ready to ride Shout out to the legends Rising from the wreckage Count down the seconds And start your engines

---

Nights turn into days Days turn into months I was always alone Until you came along Now you've got me singing

I think I like you, maybe more than I should Hurts like heaven and it feels so, feels so You do me better than any other love could Hurts like heaven, and it feels so, feels so good It feels so good

--- [Inspo.] ---

It was hardly worth even parking the car up – she knew she’d lost long before she crossed the line. The jet screaming overhead confirmed it. She might as well drive the car out of the airfield and peace out. That would have been her preference. Only this Lamborghini was hardly road legal, and her team would have had a few words to say to her – none of them particularly glowing…

She walked away from the car without really looking at any of the mechanics rushing over to check it, before they wheeled it into its container for transporting to the factory – luckily, being last year’s model, it wouldn’t be needed next race. Especially with how hard she’d pushed it. Her trainer knew to leave her well alone too, as she continued walking straight down the taxi way. She needed to cool off a little bit.

In her head, Bailey Walker was going through every move and turn she made; did she make the best use of the throttle, every paddle shift up and down – where she’d decided to put her foot down and where she’d lifted… where had she lost time? If she’d have just decided to break a little later here, or not steered so wide there, decided not to drift… or perhaps decided to drift. Who was she really kidding though, it was a fighter jet not another car… No doubt whatever her grievances were, they’d be talked out at a debrief – which she would request; even if not a championship race if she could learn from it, it would be information worth having.

She became aware of someone distantly calling, but she was so in her head at this stage that it took a while for her to figure out it was her name they were calling. “Hey!!! Heeeey!!! Bailey!!! Wait!! Wait, Bailey!!”

As soon as he’d seen her walking away, Jake Seresin knew that he had to chase her down the taxi way. Despite post-flight checks that couldn’t wait, and despite all the aviators and ground team trying to congratulate him on his win… He wasn’t sure if she was going to collect her things and get going, or if she had the intent of staying.

He’d almost caught up to her by the time she turned around, already having stripped her overalls to tie around her waist. She’d left her helmet back in the car – there was too much season left to get frustrated and throw it, but she wasn’t one to hide behind her visor unless she was really upset. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder for a minute, watching the car swarmed with mechanics. She’d taken it more than just a little hard in places - in the set-up shots the camera crew had taken she’d had a lot of smoke and wheel spin off the line too - more than once. What was the point of not putting on a show for the cameras, after all? She winced apologetically at the thought that doing so wouldn’t have been good. Hopefully she hadn’t pushed too hard. Even if this was just a show car, the team were still precious about it; why wouldn’t they be?!

When she focused back on the man who’d been calling her name, she was almost surprised to find it was Jake Seresin. The pilot she’d been hanging out with all day - that she just raced against. Not only that, but he was still in nearly all his flight gear – he’d surely made sure to waste no time. No, Jake was much more bothered about catching her than he was any necessary checks post-race. Bailey stopped, and took half a pace back on one foot, arms folded, defensive. She’d watched this guy all day - he’d got a little too much ego, he was cocky, he was a little too good looking – An All-American Dream – and he knew it. He had every right to be, especially now. Jake was the best in his class - and it more than showed. All Bailey expected was for him to gloat. She wanted to beat him to it - swallowing back disappointment, she spoke as he stopped a few paces from her, “Congr-” “Hey, are you going now? Or are you staying - they said there was catering earlier, but I wondered if your team might need to hit the road…” Her eyebrows raised, and she counted herself surprised, it seemed like a strange angle to start on. She didn’t quite know what to do but answer with a question of her own – and Bailey knew she sounded as bemused as she was. “Are… you staying?” His smile didn’t quite reach cocky, “I asked first.” “Well, I got nowhere to be.” Bailey shrugged before casting her eyes to the sky, cheeks burning, because even if she knew beating him was an impossibility she still hated losing. “That was some nice flying. I wish I saw more of it, but I was trying to focus on the road… you deserved to win. Sounds like when they said you were top of your class, they really did mean it.” When Bailey looked back to him, Jake wasn’t looking at her, even though he was smiling – he didn’t seem the type to get bashful, and yet… - it was a very different kind of smile, “I wish I could have seen more of the car… I guess it’s a little hard, y’know, going vertical. But you were really giving it some. Besides, I’ve not graduated yet, so that might not be true for much longer… you are certified fastest in your team, it shows. That wasn’t a big margin.” It was a compliment. She bowed her head a little - “Thank you. I guess that can’t be bad coming from the fastest pilot either.” “Guess not!” He grinned, then pointed back the way he’d just run, “You wanna… grab something together - I mean, you can eat with your crew I’m not gonna… I mean, I just…” Jake realised he was tripping over his words and Bailey was giving him a look he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But she at least seemed amused by this - waiting for him to string the right words together. She was letting him try. Patient. Instead, he paused and rolled his eyes, “I’m staying. We’ve hung out all day talking about our vehicles of choice. I guess it’d be good to get to know each other a little better.” Bailey smirked to herself before nodding, “Sure. That’s cool with me.”

This was true – they had spent nearly all day together to film this segment – Race Car vs Fighter Jet. Or… whatever it would eventually be called, but that was the entire premise. They’d been introduced first thing this morning as the two competitors – and the two fastest members of their respective ‘teams’. Jake had yet to graduate his Top Gun class, and Bailey was an up-and-comer, competing in an all-women racing team. (At least from a driver point of view). Once it had been explained what they had to do, and establishing shots had been done of both them and their vehicles of profession, the two had been left to their own devices as the crew filmed the more science-based parts of the day with presenters. Where upon Bailey and Jake had made general comparisons between the jet and the car; discussing top speeds, aerodynamics, handling, cornering, 0-to-60-to-over-100 (as if that mattered to a jet, but it was all good fun!) amongst other things…

Sitting here in the catering tent – or, hanger, as that’s what they were using – across from him, trying to talk about himself without coming across as too egotistical (she could tell; though she had a healthy amount of ego herself, as a competitive racer. It was almost a necessity.), Bailey wasn’t sure if she was really interested in him or not. If she had a type, she wouldn’t say the man talking to her now was it. But she wasn’t going to deny Jake Seresin was attractive. That he didn’t make her heart race as fast as her car when they were introduced… she just, wasn’t sure. And Jake? He was talking 100 miles an hour, but he still managed to be collected. But when he kept looking at her to check if she was still hanging on to every word he said, there was a constant look on his face that intrigued her. ‘Do I make him nervous?’ That confused Bailey a little. He didn’t have that type of energy about him. Jake seemed too sure of himself to ever have problems articulating; especially around women. Bailey could bet they usually tripped over themselves for him. But, it was that sort of look - maybe not present in his body language but in his eyes. Maybe it was dread. But he had no reason to fear her, so what?

As they continued to talk, eventually it dawned on her. (And there must have been something between them, given that no one disturbed them the entire time – no one from his team or hers. She expected a debrief, or at least someone to tap her shoulder and say when that would be, yet nothing. They were just left alone to talk.) So what did dawn on her, was that Jake’s look was the fear of her slipping away. The fear of her getting up and leaving – of that person, whoever it would be, eventually stepping in - and that he still wouldn’t have told her everything he wanted to. Of the chance he’d never get to see her again. Bailey knew she couldn’t just voice that though - he’d play it off; more likely Jake would throw it back at her, say she’s the one who can’t resist him. But she knew… he was chasing. It was the reason he ran after her on the taxi way, it was the reason he asked her to stay. Jake already had a crush – whether he would admit it out loud or not.

She should have guessed this from the immediate introduction. He was Jake, and he let her call him that – not by his last name, nor rank. Not by his call sign – even though almost everyone else was doing one or the other. The one time she had decided to ask about it; just in case he wasn’t one to correct her, he’d said “Jake is fine!” with one of those smiles that she was sure had all the girls falling for him.

 There was a natural end to the day though. There had to be. The shooting was wrapped, and the crews were packing up around them as the sun began to sink lower in the sky. It was unfortunate for them both – given the way their discussion had gone there was some kind of chemistry, that was undeniable. Whatever it was – or was going to be. There was a feeling that they both still had something to say.

All sets of teams around them did their best to pack up without having to disturb them until the last possible second, but eventually her trainer, Luca, had to interrupt. “Bailey?” The two of them trailed their conversation off to look at him. “Sorry, the car is probably going to be here to pick you up within the next 10 minutes. You wanna debrief?” “In the car will do, Luca, thank you.” “Alright, I’ll come back when it’s here.” He nodded politely to Jake before leaving them alone once more. Although he didn’t show it on his face, Jake was disappointed – his emotional state slumped a little, but he knew he couldn’t keep her here. He was a charmer, he knew that - he knew how it was to flirt back with the girls that came walking up at The Hard Deck and it was easy. But the woman sitting across from him now didn’t seem to be falling for it - no matter how engaged Bailey was in what he said, there were no hearts in her eyes that meant he could persuade her anywhere…

All he could do was just hope that her interest was at least genuine. That she wasn’t talking to him for the sake of having someone there to talk to – or to be polite for today. Jake shook that off – her whole damn mechanic team was here, she had plenty of people she could choose to talk to and she was spending her time with him. He’d got this!

Still, there was no harm in trying – and there was an urgency now. He had ten minutes before she walked out of his life forever. “So, uh… any chance of getting your number, before you go? I mean, besides the one you race with?” And he winked, with an appropriate laugh. Although it had been peeled off the car for the race (along with the majority of the sponsors, given the video) the 85 was printed on the back of her fireproofs, underneath her last name. Jake’s voice was smooth and included a hopefulness behind it… as much as something vulnerable. Bailey would hate to disappoint him, but that wasn’t something she did. This wasn’t something she ever did. “No…” She leaned on her hand and before his face could fall in more than obvious disappointment he was doing very well not to show – it reached his eyes though, the discomfort with her answer was obvious in that hazel -  Bailey gave another little smirk, this one mysterious, “but you can follow my Instagram.”

Part of her wished she hadn’t, because it immediately put Jake back on that attitude of his. Although, part of her had already decided she liked to see that on him. The feeling nothing could get to him – Bailey had just given him an out, Jake could play it off like she was the one asking for his number, “Oh, okay, alright. It’s like that, huh?” “Yeah.” And it was her turn to playfully wink at him, “pretty much.”

Ten minutes passed in little-to-no time, and it really was time for them to part. By then they were standing by the entry to the hanger. Her car was waiting patiently, her trainer leaning against it shaking his head. But Luca didn’t interrupt, he let Bailey have her time. They parted ways amicably; their handshake quickly turning into a hug. That perhaps lasted a little too long – Bailey wasn’t sure. “Congrats again on your win. You can tell people you beat a real racer – how’s that?” He laughed, “Well, you can tell your friends you nearly beat a Top Gun pilot… but I… I mean I don’t know if that gets you any cred.” “Ah, I got to race a jet, there’s not many racers can say that.” Bailey grinned – despite losing, she had to admit, it had been a fun day. Probably once in a lifetime. “Well, at least I can give you something good to say!” Jake was doing his best to act bashful, but Bailey wasn’t falling for that either. She stepped away from him, with another polite nod of thanks, before offering him one final wave goodbye, and following her trainer to the car. The door being opened the second she started walking showed Luca’s real impatience. Bailey almost looked to the sky in an eyeroll, laughing to herself. He will have followed her by the time she’d left the airfield and she’d be just another girl by the end of the week. Jake looked the type. She didn’t necessarily mind that. (At least, that’s what she was telling herself right now). Bailey wasn’t looking for anything. She had a career of her own, and she had to focus on the race coming up in a few weeks.  Tomorrow she’d be back training on the simulator as if today had never happened. That was how it went. Jake Seresin would be just a guy she raced against once in another video stunt PR and Marketing had got her involved in. And then 1 in a few hundred thousand when he followed her.

Her phone beeped before the car was even off the taxi way and Bailey couldn’t help but laugh. Of course! She should have bet on it.

*** The sunlight glinted obnoxiously off the VIP pass in his hands that he had to flash to security as he walked through the paddock – despite already having scanned in his ticket.

‘What the hell am I even doing here, this is insane!?’ How did he go from sending a hopeful Instagram DM, to being invited out to the US round of the World Endurance Championship. That just so happened to coincide with his next leave period. Heck – maybe Jake Seresin should actually be calling it luck.

Bailey was more responsive to his messages than he expected – especially with him not quite being able to gage her interest in him initially – and they just kept talking. Even when he was sure maybe the conversation had really dried up. Her own thinking had her concluding that if they’d raced on his home turf – at an airfield – then he had to come and see Bailey at her own; a race track. So she didn’t just send him a ticket, but a VIP paddock pass that would get him into the motorhome for her team.

Right now, he probably couldn’t have looked more out of place. Fans excitedly chatting, sporting team and driver gear, some even gathering around drivers for autographs and selfies. Team staff of all types running up and down between the trucks and buildings – shouting incoherently to one another or driving small vehicles containing car parts and other personnel. Journalists and photographers, all looking to get the best new stories and best shots. Jake was just trying to take it all in. With the also obnoxiously bright pink and black pass hanging around his neck – the colours of Bailey’s team; the only all women’s team in the WEC – Jake felt a bit like a fraud. Surely these groups of fans deserved this more than he did? They probably could rattle off a million facts about Bailey Walker that he wouldn’t have known… yet, he was the one talking to her on social media… so… he guessed he had that. The thought had a little smirk appearing on his face as he cleared his throat, relaxing his shoulders back and standing a little taller – exactly, damn right! She’d invited him here!

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Already having let Bailey know he’d arrived; she’d rather enthusiastically replied with a ton of celebratory emojis and that he should let her know when he was in the paddock. Which as he now was, he did exactly that. It wasn’t long before she was typing back, and he found himself staring at instructions for getting to their motorhome. Geez… okay… He studied them carefully, before beginning to walk in the specified direction. Jake was starting to think it might be easier if she just came and collected him herself. Or, at least had someone else do it. He was hoping this wouldn’t end with an embarrassing phone call and him getting lost. It wasn’t just a straight line of teams after all, she had him turning left and right at various points to get to other rows all laid out within the space afforded to them by the circuit. He was passed on all sides by other people in team gear who must have been laughing at him silently inside… Jake had no idea where he was going and he could bet he looked it. Normally he’d brush it off and act confident, but Jake was trying to stare at his phone to make sure he was following what she said to a T, and also staring up at the buildings around to make sure he hadn’t missed it on accident. It was obvious he was new around here at the very least, and that display of confidence from before was waning.

Eventually Jake had to stop moving for fear of getting hopelessly lost. They weren’t directions that hard to follow – but he’d suddenly started second guessing himself. Had he actually turned the right way at all the points she’d listed? What if he hadn’t? What if he was hopelessly lost. Dammit – he didn’t actually want to have to make that phone call! The objective was to walk in there, cool as hell, like he did this all the time! Jake wondered if it was really the pang of nerves in his stomach at seeing her face to face again. Their open, chill DM banter… would it translate once they spoke to each other again? Once they hung out… this weekend for much longer than they had before.

As Jake stared at his phone again, bent closer to the screen, making him look more confused and out of place than he did before, he suddenly heard a whistle from above him, and then voices. “Hot damn – hey, girls look at this!” “Holy shit - wait, is that him?! She was totally right!” “Hey! Good looking, where you going!?” Jake looked up to find himself stared at by three women leaning over a balcony, all in the black-and-pink of Bailey’s team. Though the motorhome itself was white. And the name emblazoned on the side – in neon yellow he might add: ‘IL COVO’ - was not her team name. Way to make him look even more confused. “Uh…” Although he’d be lying if he didn’t say he felt a little flattered to be cat called like this, Jake removed his sunshades, “I’m looking for the Iron Dames motorhome?” “Oh. You’re for us!? Damn, isn’t this our lucky day.” “Well, I-” he laughed, “Bailey Walker invited me.” “Bailey?” One pouted, “Aw c’mon, we can show you a better time than her!” One of the other women immediately turned around, “Bailey - Hey Bailey, your boyfriend is here!” There was some muffled scuffling, and one of the women disappeared, before there was more yelling, “Holy shit, why didn’t you SAY he was so gorgeous!!” Jake couldn’t help but grin a little more, feeling that little ego boost. The next voice echoed faintly, as if it was far away but yelling enough to be heard even from where he was standing, “Oh my god, will you guys shut up! Stop yelling!” “Look, we can’t help that he’s so hot.” “Stop cat calling him – my god can you get any more embarrassing!” The woman who had disappeared before, popped back over, leaning even further out than she was before, “If you get bored with her, hot stuff, we’re always up here.” Before winking, “But this girl has a massive crush on you…” Jake tried not to let that go all the way to his head – he didn’t know if that was the truth or if they were teasing him… or her… or both. “Shut up! Leave him alone!” There was a scrabbling sound and finally Bailey popped up beside them, a little flushed. And he didn’t know if that was from embarrassment or hurrying to get there, “Jake!” her voice was joyful, and she beamed upon seeing him, “Hey! Just come up to the door, you got your pass, right?” He flashed it at her, “Perfect! Yeah, I’ll be right down! Please ignore my team mates!” “Ignore us!? Bailey that’s so rude!” At this point another group of people in overalls – these ones yellow and black, and also on men! – had peered over the side of the motorhome to see what all the fuss was about, and they were all chuckling. Jake couldn’t help but laugh himself as he walked towards the glass front door, finding himself called on again; “Don’t be a stranger!” He grinned up at them as they waved at him, “Don’t worry, I won’t!”

Once inside – as if he hadn’t just been checked outside the door – Jake found himself face to face with what looked like a security guard. If he wasn’t also wearing a suit and standing at a desk that made him look like a Matire D – but the guy was intimidatingly tall. Jake raised an eyebrow approaching the desk. “Ah, hello Sir. I see your pass.” He gestured, “My name is Chris – I look after everyone on the motorhome.” Jake could imagine that look after must entail pretty much everything. Including first – or, second - line of defence. “Before I let you wander around – I better get you checked in, I don’t believe I’ve seen you on here already?” “No, that’s right. I’m Jake, Seresin.” “Seresin… Seresin…” Chris ran down the list of names with his pen – before letting out a laugh he obviously didn’t mean to be audible by how it was cut short and he placed his hand over his mouth. Eyes raising back to Jake, he smiled, “You’re here for Bailey?” “…That’s right.” Jake could imagine the expression on his face was one of surprised concern – should he be worried? What had he let himself in for?! “Sorry – that’s just unusual – if not for her parents! Bailey never gets visitors!” Chris raised his eyebrows and crossed through Jake’s name on the list, before muttering, “Good Luck!” Jake’s face creased in concern, “Uh… thanks?” Before he started walking again, then paused, “Wait, I don’t… have to do this again right?” “Oh no, just flash your pass – I’ve got you all memorised.” No doubt. “Okay… thanks Chris!” By the time Jake started walking on, Bailey had already appeared in the bottom of the motorhome, leaning against a wall draped in ivy. She was wearing a black t-shirt – team branded – and jeans. Obviously not expecting to be out in the car for a while. Bailey raised her hand in greeting and Jake was at least relieved he wouldn’t have to wait around by himself for a while.

“Hey!” “Hey, it’s good to see you again.” He leaned down to her own lean up – such was the height difference – as they hugged, accepting cheek kisses. “Oh-!” Bailey grinned at his greeting, “And you too! It’s nice to speak face to face again, huh Jake?” She nodded behind him to Chris, “Did he tell you good luck!?” “How’d you know?” Jake quirked his eyebrow again, half expecting her to let him know what he’d been warned about. Bailey simply rolled her eyes. “I just said you’d be coming and they’ve been teasing me ever since.”  Then she gaped, suddenly embarrassed, “Oh my god! My team-! I- I’m so sorry! That- they joked so much about doing that all through practice and stuff and I never thought they’d actually go ahead and tease YOU! I’m sorry – I… they’re a great bunch and lovely girls really, I… I’m so sorry!” Jake waved away her apology, knowing she was likely right, “Naw, it’s okay! What’s a little bit of banter huh?” He laughed, “I’ve heard worse from the Navy guys. You’re all good.” “Ah, just wait – they’ll all be thanking you for your service next.” “Aw, stop.” He winked, which made her shove him playfully. “Uh, question…” He pointed behind him, “This is not what I expected.” “That wasn’t a question, but I think I’ve got your wavelength…” She smirked, folding her arms and tracing her eyeline slowly around the room, to which he followed.

The motorhome did indeed look like a miniature home. Light and airy and filled with fake, or maybe some real, plants. Polished authentic wooden surfaces mixed well with the modern glass and steel and stark white. But it still had a homely feel, plush sofas, and tables where some of the team were sat chatting – likely about strategy – the lighting from above wasn’t harsh either, the large windows allowing plenty of natural light. The wall Bailey had been leaning against was deceptive; actually just a dividing boarder to the rest of the building – bar tables pushed up against the wall: upon which hung framed pictures of cars, tracks and podiums, the stairs heading to the top deck (which was clearly something like an outside balcony). The surfaces either were crowded with laptops or coffee machines and fridges for snacks. Jake assumed that catering facilities were in another part that he just couldn’t see. On the wall directly opposite them was mounted a large flatscreen TV – clearly for showing the racing when any was actually happening – and two logos. One for The Iron Dames – in pink and black – and the other for the Iron Lynx – this in yellow and black. Iron Lynx, and the vibrant yellow, was of course what Jake had been met with on the outside.

“So technically we’re part of the Iron Lynx brand – we’re just the all-girls team. The Lynx team are all guys – but you’ll see ‘Iron Lynx’ on our car too.” She smiled, “The more you know!” “Gotcha.” – Although he was sure it’d make more sense when he met the teams and saw the cars going around. Though it did explain the group of male drivers he’d seen on the top deck too. “I’m sure you thought the motorhome would live up to the pink and black! Or at least black and yellow, that would make sense. But no, right now we’re white!” She gave a shrug. Maybe that would change in the future, then. “I see.” She watched him carefully, “Feeling a bit out of your depth?” He didn’t see any point in trying to deflect, Bailey had the intuition and perception of a racer, after all. Really Jake had nowhere to hide, and as he saw it, no reason to. “Just a little…” She smiled, patting him, “Well – you’re at least appropriately dressed.” Jake looked down at himself; jacket, jeans, boots, button up shirt… shades now tucked into the front. The pink kinda clashed with the soft blues, but whatever. He pulled it off. “You’ll get the hang of things. You’ll be a certified expert by the time I’m done with you. And don’t worry – I’ll make sure you’re not harassed… I mean, I did invite you out here to see you…” Her features softened, affectionately, “…and… I – uh – I obviously want you to enjoy the experience.” He smiled, and she knew she’d said exactly the right thing to swell his ego right. Although truth was, she did mean every word. She wanted to see Jake again, because she had some things to figure out. And Bailey knew that the only way to do that now was to have a face-to-face conversation with him. This wasn’t something she could figure out over text anymore – you could only get to know someone so well from that. Bailey wanted to remove that limitation. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll enjoy myself.” She laughed, nodding, before she opened her arms back to the room – a small gesture before putting her hands in her pockets. This time when her eyes met his they glinted, full of confidence: “Well, Jake, welcome to my domain.”

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Thank you for reading! 💜💙