#she’s gonna try and talk about how much pot i fucking smoke? woman who gives it to me.

[metaphysicae]

hey! not to be dramatic but i cannot fucking stand being in this house!

[frecklesandfanfics]

*deep breath*

This is gonna be a long one, folks. 

So, the stupid tiktok said that Nancy’s character was assassinated in Season 4 and thrown in the garbage. She is still the same character she was in Season 2. She only talked about men and her love triangle. She’s shallow and has no depth and feeling guilty about Barb doesn’t provide enough depth to her character. 

Sorry, I call bullshit. 

First of all, let’s look at the “love triangle.” It’s only a love triangle to the viewer, not to Nancy. Nancy doesn’t know that Jonathan doesn’t want to go to Emerson. She only realizes how much he’s been lying to her and pulling away when she sees him in the last five minutes of the entire fucking season. She does know that he’s been folding into himself--and we see him doing that with all his pot smoking--but she doesn’t know why and it seems that she thinks whatever is wrong, she can fix when they’re at college. It’s only when she sees him and he lies to her face. She’s not a stupid woman, his attitude is immediately shady and she clocks it. 

Here’s the thing: it’s not that I don’t think Nancy ever loved Jonathan, or vice versa. It’s only that their priorities and views on life are very different, and we see that first thing in Season 3, when Jonathan’s take on classism hits Nancy’s views on misogyny and they have that giant fight. They never address this argument again onscreen, which is crazy, because it’s a big one. But you know, from there they are saving the world again and then Jonathan moves to California and in their letters and phone calls Jonathan seems to be putting her off, telling her that he hasn’t gotten his acceptance letter yet. 

From there we go to something essential: Jonathan doesn’t know Nancy as well as he thinks he does. In what alternate universe would Nancy Fucking Wheeler give up her dream college for a boyfriend she hasn’t seen in a year? For a boyfriend she wouldn’t even have a chance of seeing til the next year? So many people have said that Steve doesn’t know Nancy because he mentions wanting 6 kids; he never said that she should be the one to stay home with those kids. He never said she needed to give up her dreams, that he expected her to give up her dreams, or that he wanted her to give up her dreams. And it actually makes more sense for Steve to want/expect to be the stay-at-home dad, he hasn’t been able to find his way after high school, he has no expectations of becoming a lawyer or anything of that sort. He’d easily suit the role of a dad in an apron, and he has always admired Nancy’s brains and pluck. No, all Steve ever did was include Nancy in his dream, and it’s the Nancy Jonathan doesn’t understand at all: Nancy who will pursue her own dreams without being weighed down by someone else’s expectations of her. 

To say that Nancy has had no growth in Seasons 3 and 4 is quite ridiculous: Season 4 is a take on horror, and Nancy is the Final Girl, the one who survives, the one who fights back, and she only inhabits this role with more comfort in every season. In S3 we see her as the intrepid newspaper gal, trying to balance her relationship with working and fighting back against the misogynistic journalists at the Hawkins (Gazette?) -- and she shows her intelligence when she knows when to run and when to fight. (And how to fight!) She yells back when Jonathan sides with her misogynistic bosses and thinks that her problems with them aren’t as real as his problems with money or being raised by a single mom or any related to class. (And here’s the thing about that fight: they were each right and wrong, but it was a dick move on Jonathan’s part to pull a whataboutism on Nancy when she was clearly having A Moment.)

The way Nancy goes after her story on the weird rats in Season 3 is such a testament to how much she’s grown to that point. She’s tenacious and doesn’t let anyone tell her it’s stupid or frivolous, not even her boyfriend. And where she has to be drunk to talk back to Steve in Season 2, she demolishes Jonathan in multiple conversations. She’s driven, intense, and purposeful, and we haven’t seen those colors on her before, though they’ve been slowly teased out over the first two seasons. 

Season 4 only builds on this. Nancy has traded the free time she spent with Jonathan for being the editor of the school newspaper, so dedicated (and perhaps grown so far apart from Jonathan, judge that for yourselves) that she refuses to leave town over Spring Break. She heads to a murder scene with little care for her own safety and talks to Eddie’s uncle with kindness, not assuming Eddie is the murderer, and gets the first tip about Creel--the one that leads to them finding out about Vecna’s weakness, music. In case you’ve forgotten, without Nancy being so focused and pursuing leads to the ends of the earth, Max would have died at Billy’s grave. 

Season 4 actually shows us, for the first time, Nancy in a platonic female friendship for more than one episode. Robin might be a little weird at first but she wins Nancy over; Nancy might be a little stuck up at first but she wins Robin over. The season also gives us Nancy actively worried about the younger teens, as well as considering their input and the ways they can help, and shows her leading both the older teens and the younger ones, and giving them a place to crash where they can all be together and safe. Even though Mike is in California, she gives them an excuse to stay in the Wheelers’ basement while they try to figure out the next step, and then they implement several plans...that Nancy comes up with. 

Nancy isn’t the de facto leader that Steve is in Seasons 2 and 3, just by virtue of being the oldest, she elects her own damn self as the leader, to the point that Robin points her out as being in charge when asked. It’s a long way from the shaking little girl she is in Season 1, and I’m sorry this has been so goddamn long, but it pisses me off to no end that just because she’s in a “love triangle” (that only the viewer has even figured out is happening, so far) people are saying she’s a flat character, a Mary Sue, whatever. Nancy Wheeler is a great fucking character no matter her love life, and don’t you forget it. 

Edit: I forgot to talk about Nancy’s guilt about Barb. Another time, perhaps. 

[sinnaminsuga]

New Royalty

(here's that supernatural cross over fic! i'm still not sure i'm happy with it how it turned out but here it is! 😂)

@indigosaurus @zealoushound @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @hope-to-hell @wendimydarling @infinite-shite @inlovewithhisblueeyes

Being a crossroads demon, life wasn’t easy. Especially so now, when you’re adjusting to becoming the fresh new King Of Hell. I wanted to continue my job as a crossroads demon because truthfully, I loved the work. But, being the King was a daunting task all on its own, so I let my number one Knight Of Hell, my brother (for all intents and purposes) Sy, handle the crossroads deals. And he had been doing an amazing job, snatching up souls left and right. But I could tell by the look on his face as he stormed into the great hall, that something had gone very very wrong.

“August, I can’t handle this chick anymore! She’s driving me fucking nuts! And she must be a lawyer or somethin’ because she knows her contracts man. But she’s driving me up the wall and I’m gonna gank this bitch with the First Blade if you don’t go talk to her.” Sy shouted through the hall as he approached my throne. The anger was rolling off of him in waves, scaring away the low level demons milling about.

“Sy what are you talking about?” I asked, flipping through pages of paperwork. “Listen, there’s this girl who keeps summoning me right? And there’s no offer I make her that will make her take the deal and eventually I get annoyed and I leave. And EVERY night she does this. She summons me EVERY. NIGHT. And this last time I went topside to see what she wanted and SHE ASKED TO SPEAK TO THE FUCKING MANAGER. Can you believe this shit?!” Sy said, finishing with an exasperated sigh.

“What’s her deal? Like what does she want?” I asked, genuinely curious about this strange woman and what she wanted. “Dude she won’t tell me! I told her whatever she wants is gonna cost her, her soul and I’ll come and collect it in 10 years. No dice. I offered 11 years, ya know an extra year to sweeten the pot but still no. She said the only way she’ll stop summoning me is if I give her a good enough deal or if I send my boss. August I can’t keep dealing with her. I have so much shit to do. You ever been zapped away in the middle of a battle with a leviathan? Because I can now say that I have! And it sucked! Please, I know you’re busy too but can you PLEASE deal with her?” Sy pleaded, kneeling at my feet, his hands clasped together.

“Fine. I’ll go up there just this once. But do not make it a constant thing to come in here asking me to do this. The King does not make it a habit to bend the rules for anyone. Not even his own brother.” I said, casting a glance down at him. I stood up from my throne and stretched out my arms and legs before heading to the crossroads.

When I arrived there was a stunning girl leaning against a shitty blue pick up truck, her head hanging low and her boot drawing patterns in the dirt. “Hey! You wanted to see me?” I called out, her head snapping up to look at me. “Yeah. Yeah I did.” She said. As she made her way closer to me I could sense there was something different about her. I don’t know how Sy couldn’t tell what she was but I definitely could.

“Ah ah ah sweetheart. I don’t trust angels. Drop the blade in the back of your truck or I’ll smoke outta here faster than you can blink alright?” I demanded. She was an angel. And not just in the sense that she was beautiful, no. She was a real angel. Hidden wings, angel blade, grace, and all. She was stunningly beautiful but terrifying at the same time. The blood beneath my skin thrummed with anticipation. What could this gorgeous, heavenly creature want from me?

“Oh! Oh right sorry! I forgot to ditch it because I didn’t know if you would actually come talk to me! I’m Y/N.” She replied with nervous laughter, throwing her sword into her truck. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at her. “So, what ever could you want to talk to me about? My brother said you’ve exhausted him. I suggest you don't try that with me, I'm far less forgiving.” I grinned.

“Well you see, the thing is, Sy didn’t understand what I wanted and I think it’s because he couldn’t tell what I was. I’m what's considered an archangel. One of the original angels that God created.” She said. “Oh honey I know exactly what you are. I could see it the minute my feet hit the ground up here. Dont waste my time with things I already know. Spit it out. Now.” I grumbled, growing impatient.

“Okay. So you obviously know my brother Lucifer, he used to be like your leader or whatever. But what no one knows is that I was supposed to fall too. Lucifer took the full blame even though everything that happened was half my fault. I believed in him and his cause but he insisted I stayed upstairs with Dad and the rest. When they found out I had conspired against them they locked me up for thousands of years. Can you believe that?! God forbid I’m a free thinker! Pun intended. I’ve finally gotten free and I needed to get the fuck out. I’m so angry and I just can’t stay there anymore!” Y/N growled. Her eyes were glowing with the force of her anger and it made the surrounding air sizzle.

This woman didn’t know it but she was having quite the effect on me. The cogs in my brain were spinning with all the ideas of what she would say next. “Y/N what do you want from me? There’s a reason you keep contacting my brother and I want to know why.”

“I want to strike a deal.” She said. “No shit sweetheart. That’s what everyone wants. I want to know what the deal is since you refuse to speak to Sy.” I huffed, growing tired of this game. Dancing around the point was never my favorite thing.

The beautiful stranger sauntered closer to me and splayed her hand over my chest before slowly lifting her gaze to meet my eyes. I could feel the warmth radiating from her palm and it made my skin tingle and the blood in my groin pulse. “Every king needs a queen right?” She said, grinning up at me. “You take me as your queen, and we all get what we want. I get to take my place in hell where I should have been a long time ago, and in return you get an extra set of hands and eyes to help you run the joint. I can help you August. Truly I can. And you can help me.” Y/N murmured, delicate fingers tracing over my chest.

I mulled it over for a moment, weighing the options and all that. It would be good to have a loyal partner to help me run my empire and she was beautiful and intriguing so I wouldn’t mind her being my wife. Also she had a great deal of power and with her in my arsenal I would never lose, should the opportunity of war arise. The decision was an easy one.

“Well if you know so much about crossroads deals, you know how we seal this contract don’t you?” I smirked, my eyes flashing to black. “Of course I do. I’ve been waiting for this part for weeks.” She said, her hand snaking around the back of my neck and pulling my face towards her. Our lips met in a heated clash and I could feel electricity pulsing from her body. A loud thunder clap sounded in the distance as her tongue slipped into my mouth. The feeling of kissing her was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. My hands began to roam her body and squeeze her flesh. She was so warm but so strong, like velvet covered steel. I couldn’t get enough of her. My lips moved to her neck and I tugged on her sensitive skin with my teeth. The whimper that fell from her lips sounded like paradise. She was clawing at my back and writhing against me and all I had done was kiss her. Her responses to my touch were amazing and I never wanted this to end. I pulled back for a moment to catch my breath and she whined like I’d stabbed her. I pressed my lips to the shell of her ear before whispering, “Sweetheart, if we keep going at it like this I’m going to have no choice but to fuck you on the very ground you stand on.”

“So do it. I want you to. I’m yours now.” She snarled. Before I could register what was happening, she hooked her right leg behind mine and shoved at my chest, effectively bringing me to the ground. Once we landed, I began kissing her again, my snaking my tongue into her mouth. She audibly moaned when I ground my hard length against her clothed center.

“Baby, I’m all about dry-humping but if you don’t hurry up and get inside me I actually might explode. And the last time an archangel exploded, cities were leveled and people were killed.” She giggled. “Keep sweet talking me honey. Death and destruction are a demons favorite things.” I groaned into her neck, a mischievous smile on my lips, before I sank my teeth into her neck. She laughed aloud, the sound like bells, and I never wanted to hear anything else ever again.

She took my face in her small hands, her beautiful eyes scanning my face before whispering “Take me home August. It’s where we belong.”

THE END

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan…

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

a/n: I wrote this months ago and let it sit on the shelf. I’m finally ready to dust it off and give it another go...so let’s see what it do...

Part iii - Trifecta

Torren Sykes hadn’t lived what anyone would consider an exciting life. In fact, in her twenty-three years, she had only just left her mom’s double-wide trailer in East Bumble Fuck less than a year ago. Not quite 365 days later, she still didn’t have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of.

Truthfully, she usually didn’t know where she would be getting her next meal - that sort of thing wasn’t really a big deal to her. She actually liked the mystery of it all. There was something undeniably sexy about not knowing what the day would bring - who she would run into, or have to take something off of to survive. If someone else had to get hurt so she could make it through another day, such was life. She’d won. Those other people just needed to be better at playing the fucking game, plain and simple. 

Besides, pulling a caper or two kept her on her toes. She learned how to pull off the best of them from her mother. It’s not like adulting was one of Leslie’s strong suits. 

If only her mother had been more like her Me-Maw, now that woman was a saint. For reasons that Torren never cared to ask, she lived with her Me-Maw until she was five years old.  Leslie would periodically visit her to drop off the obligatory present on Christmas or her birthday if that bitch remembered. Not that they were ever good presents – just some cheap ass, unwrapped items she happened to pick up at the dollar store. Torren couldn't remember a gift that she had received wasn't still in the plastic bag with the receipt in it.

Cheap, whore.

Just once she would have liked a real baby doll from Toys-R-Us, instead of those cheap, hard, plastic dolls that the hand molds weren't cut out evenly, and the jagged edges cut the shit out of her face when she tried to sleep with it. But, that was Leslie. Torren didn't choose her; Leslie sure as shit didn't choose her daughter.

It became painfully clear to Torren that her mother didn’t want anything to do with her after her Me-Maw died. Unfortunately, she found herself as her mother’s unwitting roommate at a very young age, forcing the girl to spend a lot of time alone. 

By the time she turned nine, Torren was convinced that her mother was a prostitute and she was a trick baby. It was the only explanation she could come up with seeing as how her mother never worked but always had enough money to pay the rent, keep the lights on, and have plenty of booze, chips, and hot dogs in the fridge. 

Not that Torren had many other life experiences with a working parent to compare her situation to, but it just seemed pretty fucking difficult to have a job if one were passed out drunk all the fucking time. Besides, who had time to work when during your waking hours you were spending them with one of your many, many boyfriends? 

Torren used to wonder if one of the multitudes of men that would traipse in and out of that trailer were her father - but the more she got to know what type of person Leslie was, the more she realized that whoever that guy was, had gotten the hell out of dodge. 

Lucky son-of-a-bitch. 

But for all of Leslie’s flaws, she did manage to impart her three philosophies of life onto her daughter - the three things that Torren still lived by to this day. It was the least she could do. God knows that whore sure as fuck didn’t do anything else for her.

Mama’s Life Lessons #1 - There is no such thing as too much black eyeliner

As trivial as it sounded, it proved to be a precious lesson. Shortly after she had moved into the trailer, Leslie had forced Torren to sit on the bed and watch as she got ready for another one of her "dates". She had told the little girl that beautiful eyes were the one good gene that ran in their family. “You got to learn how to work ‘em,” Leslie exhaled a long plume of smoke at her reflection in the vanity mirror, “You listenin'? This's important. This right here," she held up the black liner pencil, “is gonna be your best friend.”

Of course, Torren had no idea what she meant. How was a pencil going to her friend? She didn’t really care so much as what her mother was saying to her at the moment, it was more of the fact that she was actually talking to her that made Torren hang on to every word. 

That’s why she picked up the black liner pencil from her mother's cluttered vanity table and leaned over to look in the mirror. She tried tracing her bottom lid, the way her mother had done, but at six it was a little easier said than done. She had just learned how to color inside the lines with a fat crayon; mastering the art of applying liner would have to wait a few more years. 

Leslie, however, was not willing to wait that long, "What the hell's amatta wit'chu, Dumbass? You doin' it all wrong," she said snatching the pencil from the girl's hand. Grabbing Torren roughly by the chin she said, "Gotta teach you every goddamn thing. Hold still." She mumbled more curses and said something about her good-for-nothing mother not teaching her brat anything useful.

By the time she had finished cursing her name, Leslie roughly turned her daughter's head toward the mirror, "Yeah you got those eyes. Now, learn to use ‘em.” Leslie dropped the pencil onto the vanity before picking up her drink and shooing Torren away. 

That was the day that Drew Watkins bought her an ice cream. It had to be the eyeliner. It was a true fact, not just another one of her mother's drunken theories. Eyeliner and her eyes...she didn’t know how she used them, but they worked.

From that day on Torren opted to never step foot outside without heavy black liner again. 

Mama’s Life Lessons #2 - As long as there are men around that want to fuck you, you will never need to work

It wasn’t like she going to go out and get a real job. She wasn’t raised with much of a work ethic. She was too young to remember if her Me-Maw worked and what she gathered from her mother was that there would always be men around to take care of her. 

Leslie told her that she didn’t need to work because working a man was a full-time job. If she were doing that right, she wouldn’t have time for a fucking 9-5. It didn’t matter if he was in a relationship, gay, or the fucking Pope. As long as he a dick and she could bend over, and her eyes were done, her rent was as good as paid. 

If she wanted more than just the basic bills paid, she would have to rethink what all she was willing to do - but just make sure she didn’t do too much otherwise she couldn’t guarantee a steady paycheck every week.

This sage advice didn’t make much sense to 8-year-old Torren, but as the years progressed she started to work it into one of her life’s mottos. She would never want for anything. She could always rely on the kindness of strangers and when that got to be too boring, she could always take it, just to spice things up a bit.  

Mama’s Life Lessons #3 - If you want something do whatever it takes to make sure you get it

As a child that grew up with the television as a babysitter, Torren Sykes knew that she was destined to love Ivar “Lothbrok” Ragnarsson since she was a little girl. Ever since that day she turned on the TV and saw this adorable blue-eyed boy drawing Mickey Mouse ears saying, “I’m Ivar Lothbrok and you’re watching the Disney Channel,” she knew that he had to be hers. 

He was co-starring on a show called The Baker Boys, about three foster kids, who had come to live with a family that owned a bakery. Ivar’s character was named Simon Baker - a mischievous kid that lived with his grandmother until she died and never felt like he fit in with this cookie-cutter family. 

His life was just like hers - minus the cookie-cutter family that loved him and all. She was actually with more of an alcoholic whore that didn’t give a shit if she lived or died, and not pulling stunts in a bakery with flour and messing up orders like him, but she still saw them as kindred spirits. 

When the show got canceled she was devastated. How dare the world try to keep her from her man? Didn’t they understand this was love? Didn’t those people at Disneyland know that he was the only person in the world that understood her?

As if on queue, she happened to find the Season 2 DVD box-set at the library one afternoon. Her mother had kicked her out of the trailer because she had a date and couldn’t have the dumbass child around fucking things up for her. Torren had nothing else to do - at 11-years-old, she had no money, and nowhere to go. At least the library was air-conditioned. 

She wanted that box-set. Slipping it into her backpack unnoticed was the easy part. Trying to get it past the alarms would be harder. She watched for a while, paying particular attention to the way the check-out system worked. 

When the librarians changed shifts, she let a smile cross her lips as she picked a few random books from the shelves. 

Her beautiful eyes went as big as saucers when the alarm buzzed, and the young male librarian looked down at her, still clutching the large reference book to her check. Carefully she had stepped across to the other side of the alarm sensor waiting to collect the books she was checking out.

“I’m sorry, you can’t check out reference books,” the young man said, blinking his hazel eyes at Torren, the corner of his lip tugging into a smile.

She let a pout fall on her lips as she lowered her large eyes down to the book in her arms, “Oh...sorry.” She handed the book back, “I didn’t realize I still had it.” And like that, she walked out of the library with her prize.

She had stolen for Ivar...now if that wasn’t love what was?

The only thing that had threatened their love through the years is when Ivar got married. It damn near broke Torren’s heart. How could he be so cruel? She didn’t give a fuck that the marriage was short-lived. She even understood why he had to do it. He had gotten that bitch pregnant, and he didn’t have much choice. But, he cut her deep. 

Didn’t he know how much she loved him? Didn’t he know that she stuck by him when he had joined 6cess and had seen him in concert 3 times? She still had the autographed photo of the two of them from the signing at Spring Hills Mall - when she was wearing that blue midriff cardigan and ripped jeans and he had his arm around her. That shirt brought out the color in his eyes. She even wore Happy, which he said was his favorite perfume. She thought it smelled like Comet, but she stole a bottle of it from Macy’s right before the photo-op to smell good for him. 

And he went and pulled this shit?

Besides, Johnny Law said that she was still too young for him and that he could get arrested for being with her. She knew that he had to pretend to have a normal life so that no one would know about their love affair. She was just understanding like that. It gave her time to grow up a little more so that when they could he be together, the law wouldn't be standing in their way. She really didn't give a fuck, but she suspected he did. Why else hadn't he come for her?

Torren didn’t even like their music. She wasn’t a boyband kind of girl, but for him, she would make the exception. She was more of the gangsta rap or heavy metal type girl. But if Ivar was serenading her, she’d listen to sappy, wrist-slitting, emo, shit rock all fucking day long, because she loved him. 

She hated that he had gotten that whore pregnant, too. She understood that he had to pretend that they had a normal marriage. She knew that when he was fucking that bitch, he was really imagining it was her. The years apart had made him a master at hiding his true feelings for her. He couldn't give anyone cause for suspicion. If he let on the truth he could risk losing everything…his house, cars, job, and his kid. That whore was trying to keep them apart. But, she was just a small obstacle that posed no real threat to Torren.

She did not doubt that she would be his daughter's new mommy. The kid would probably be sad at first that she wouldn't be with that other woman like Torren had been when her grandmother died. But, the kid would get used to it. Torren was going to be a whole hell of a lot better at being a mom than her piece of shit mother was to her. That was for damn sure. She was going to teach her stepdaughter all about eyeliner, and how to dye her hair. 

She was going to teach her what party clothes every woman should have in her wardrobe and how to get a man to do whatever she wanted by just batting her eyes at him. She would even share her secrets on what pills to mix and what dosages to give for submission, making a man catatonic, and if she was really good, she'd teach what to put in a drink to kill someone. Hell, she even planned on giving the child her most discrete drug contacts. That would of course have to wait until she was older – at least 13. She was going to be such a good mommy. 

Ivar's daughter was going to love Torren as much as Torren loved him. They were going to be the perfect family.

Torren was as hopelessly devoted to Ivar as he was to her. He had waited for her to become legal. Just months before she was old enough to legally consent to sex, and get married without parental permission, his marriage started falling apart. She knew that Ivar was trying to make a clean break from his wife, and get his daughter used to the idea of them being apart before he could come home to her. 

Torren had been thoughtful and respectful enough to give him that space to make sure everything was right before she stepped into the role of the new Mrs. Lothbrok. He had to test the waters, make sure that she still wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had to get back into the swing of things…have sex constantly to make sure he could keep up with her. She knew that "the prude" wasn't doing it nearly as often as he needed to - why else would he have an Only Fans page?

Torren was the only one that could feed his appetite, and he hers.

Now, they were both finally ready. She was mature and developed. She knew what she needed, and it was him. He had his fun before her, but now he was auditioning again and getting everything back on track for them. He had a great relationship with his daughter and his dumb ass ex-wife finally understood that their relationship was a fling that went too far.

His face told her everything that her heart already knew. He loved her. 

Why else would be looking at her like that? She could feel herself blush when he smiled on Instagram like that into them. Then he gave her that smile. That was her smile; the one that he reserved for her during their private times. Yet, there he was doing it in front of an audience of millions, and he didn't care who saw it. He had to let her know that it was time for her to come home. It was like a sleeper cell being awakened.

She didn't have a choice. She did what any other woman in her position would do. She packed a bag, threw it in the car she stole a few days before and drove. Armed with her trifecta of knowledge and determination, she prepared to face the obstacles that were bound to get in her way. There was nothing that was going to stop her from getting her man.

Nothing.

Part ii || Part iv

Tags: @ideagarden-blog1​  @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @didiintheblog​ @conaionaru​ @peachyboneless​ @flowers-in-your-hayr @heavenly1927​ @zuxiezendler @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys @didiintheblog​  @revolution-starter​

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 1

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 2.1 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

SIX MONTHS AGO

“Wait a second, really?” You blinked up at the Chief Editor, your boss, in wonder. “Heading this?” 

The chocolate skinned, tall woman smiled at you. “Yes, heading this. I’d been looking to hand you something from a really long time, to be honest. This is just the right fit."

You grinned at her, hugging the contract file to your chest. In your thirteen months of employment at the publishing company, through the departmental transfer from HR to Editorial and then the promotion to the Associate Editor position, this was the best thing to happen to you, so far. You finally had a project you were gonna head. You would finally, finally get to handle things on your own—curate your own team, work on an individual project where you made all the decisions.

You breathed out, happily. “I’ll read this thoroughly and report back within an hour, boss. With my sign on it, in all likelihood.”

“I’m counting on it.” Your boss smiled at you.

You looked down at the file. You were going to work with a K-pop group on their auto-biography. You were gonna fly to fucking Korea, for six full months. This was huge. This was awesome. This was what you fucking needed, right now. Your best friend that you had been rooming with for a year was starting to get too comfortable. You were so not up for that kinda shit again.

You looked at the bottom of the front page. Athena had drawn up this contract. Your eyebrows arched. It was no secret that she was your boss’s favourite Acquisition Editor. Some even suspected they were having an affair, despite the gleaming diamond you could see—even right now—on the woman’s finger. 

This project had to mean a lot to your boss. And she’d picked you to head it.

“This sounds big, boss,” you mumbled, leafing through the hefty files. You were gonna need a couple hours, maybe, to go through this properly. “And looks big, too.”

“It is big, Y/N. In all the ways. This idea had been brewing in my head for a really long time. I had Athena make the proposal to this K-pop group’s management company, a few months back, and they said yes. She and I had been brainstorming how to approach this. Those guys are pretty tight about their privacy and, um, well. Fraternising policies. It’s all in there, you’ll see.” She pointed a finger at the file in your hands. “We were finally able to draw up the contract with the company’s CEO and Manager. And you were the only one I had in mind when we thought up of building a team and having someone head it so that we don’t have to leave.”

You gave a small, delighted giggle. “Thank you so much, boss. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t.”

You got back to your desk and flipped to the first page of the file.

BTS

Your eyes bulged. You had been a busy—and irritable because of all the stupid shit that just constantly kept on happening in your personal life—woman during the past couple of years and really uninvested in anything and everything that had to do with entertainment. This past year had been especially rough ever since your move to the States. You freaking smoked pot when you needed to unwind, what could be worse than that.

But. But—before, when you were a normal, happy woman with a soul, BTS had been kind of a really humongous deal. Did that somehow change in the past couple of years? You strongly doubted it, recalling how huge they’d been growing worldwide, the last time you kept a check. Which you did like crazy.

You momentarily wondered if your boss would still have you as the first consideration if she knew about your crazy ARMY days…

You blinked, coming back from the mental journey, and turned the page. BigHit’s owner was still the same, obviously, but the group members now apparently had individual managers. You blinked, uncomfortable at the knowledge. Reading further, you found something that disturbed you even more.

All the BTS members were done with their Military Service, with Jungkook, Jimin and Namjoon having returned from it just this year.

You swallowed, thickly. A lot had changed in the world outside of the one you’d been living in, too, apparently.

You read through the terms and conditions and your duties, thoroughly. Few points were pretty obvious and things you’d been expecting, but some of them made you frown.

You brought one such issue to your boss’s acknowledgement when you were done reading the entire booklet of a contract, nearly two hours later. You were ready to sign the thing, otherwise.

“And? What about it?” Your boss blinked at you, unfazed.

You sighed, and lifted your left hand up, pointing at your empty ring finger. “No ring, no fiance, boss. They want the team members to be at least engaged. I’m as single as it gets.”

She chuckled at that. “Tell me honestly, are you unprofessional enough to fraternise on your job? Such a high profile one, at that?”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t think they’d care about what I think, boss, or that they’d even ask.”

Your boss gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, let me put it in a different way.” You tilted your head to show your interest. “What’s your opinion on relationships, in general?”

You grimaced, unable to help your knee-jerk response. But then you shrugged, trying not to scowl while you said the words you’d started to believe in since the past couple of years. “Well, as I’d informed you through my quite less-than-professional letter at the time of my joining, boss, I think relationships are pointless. Humans keeping relationships beyond professionalism with each other is pointless, actually, because with a personal attachment comes a buckload of expectations, and then it’s just a rabbit hole down the middle of the earth. At the end of which, we burn.”

Your boss seemed to be suppressing laughter. Did the moral of your life amuse her? “You actually quoted the letter word by word, there, Y/N.”

You sighed. “That wasn’t something I’d thought through when I mailed it, boss. The voice input tool turned my rants into a letter. And my frustration over your concerns about fraternising in the office made me mail it.”

Your boss nodded. “Well, I talked to BigHit’s manager over the phone. The company’s not the group’s,” she added when you frowned in confusion at the singular term. “I explained to him about where you stood—taking references from this letter—and explained to him why I needed my most valuable Associate on the team.”

Your cheeks heated up, both due to the huge praise and embarrassment over the exposure of your letter. “Oh, um. Thank you. I guess?”

“Ugh, sign the damn piece of paper and start collecting the damn team, Y/N!”

You’d resorted to staying back at the office till late hours just to avoid your roommate.

When you’d moved to the country, thirteen months back, and decided to share your decade old friend’s flat—feeling lucky as shit that he worked in the same city as you—you and him had been on the same page. You’d both been fed up with the concepts of relationships and entanglements, even the strictly-physical ones, and wanted to just burn away your youth on the grind and pot-smoking weekends.

But then, gradually, you noticed the shift in him. He was trying to get into your pants. It could not end well.

It wasn’t to say you weren’t attracted to him. You’d jump the gorgeous guy’s bones in a heartbeat, in an alternate universe. But in this one, you’d had a first hand experience of ruining multiple friendships, and you so did not wanna risk another.

That idiot didn’t get it, though.

Hence why you were brainstorming your project’s team at ten oclock of the night in your nearly empty office building.

“Any luck?” Your okay-ish colleague—the least clingy out of the lot—peered at your spreadsheet over your shoulder.

“Why the heck are you so against it, Sana?” you groaned into your palm, frustrated.

“Because I’m ARMY!” she said in an aghast tone.

“So? Dude, that’s nearly 70% of the earth’s population, at this point, I’m guessing.”

“Um, maybe, but. I don’t trust myself to be professional, Y/N,” she morosely mumbled, dropping into an empty chair on the table next to you.

You looked at her from above your glasses. “Why the heck not?”

She ducked her head, her honey blonde hair covering almost all of her face. But you still spotted the red that bloomed across her face. “Because I have a crush on Yoongi, the size of freaking America, Y/N!”

“What? What? That’s your reason?" You covered your mouth with a hand to hold back your laughter. "Lame fucking reason, Sana!” You glared at her when she nervously looked back at you. “Get your shit together, and pack your bags. And give me your husband’s number, I wanna tell him something.”

You hadn’t imagined that picking out five people from a group of thirty would be this hard. You had spent an entire week literally running after these people to convince them. They were all married or engaged save for one, who had plans of proposing to his boyfriend a few months later, during Valentine’s before you convinced him to do it now so that he’d be able to join the team.

You’d come up with a total of four women and two men, including Sana, that were all fluent in Korean. That was kinda one of the biggest prerequisites, other than being in a committed relationship. You’d briefed the lot of them about what was to be done on this trip, who you were dealing with, and how long you’d be off for. They were all on board, now, and the only thing required was your boss’ approval.

And now you were all standing in the Chief Editor’s cabin, waiting for her to finish reviewing the team members’ profiles you’d collected and presented to her.

Your brain was nearly short circuited, at this point. If she said she wasn’t happy with any of your selections you were prepared to tell her to make the new selection herself, because there were only three more married people in this office, and none of them spoke Korean. There were only two more Korean speakers, but they were both female interns who’d be the worst nightmares to put on this project.

You looked at the six people standing next to you, all looking a varied degree of nervous.

But your boss looked impressed as she perused the file. She beamed at all of you, and then nodded. “Prepare for a six months’ stay, people, and prepare to do your best there. The only two real rules to remember are to keep it all a secret until the BigHit people are ready to disclose the news, and not fall in love.”

You all grunted in barely concealed annoyance at the last part, excluding Sana who bit her lip. You rolled your eyes. “It’d be a bigger concern for their partners than it would be to you, if that happens, boss. Don’t worry. We’re all a bunch of professionals, here.” You reassured your boss, shooting a glare at a fidgety Sana. 

“I have complete faith in y’all. Now, off you go. Brush up your Korean, spend time with your partners.” She looked at you. “Or just, you know, catch up on lost sleep. You fly to Seoul this Friday.”

Three days from now, oh God.

You all trickled out of your boss’ cabin with furrowed foreheads. You had the most workload out of them all, though, because in addition to preparing to spend six months in a foreign land, you also were to prepare a formal itinerary for said six months. You, of course, were clear on the details because they were mentioned in the contract, but writing them out for your team would definitely take a lot of time.

You briefly wondered if you should employ Sana’s help, before quickly deciding against it. It wouldn’t do you any good to do anything to sway your professional relationship by asking for personal favours.

“Hey, Y/N, all okay?” Simon, the guy that was proposing to his boyfriend early because of you, asked you when you dropped into your office chair with a huge thump.

You turned to scowl at him. “You guys have got to stop asking me that all the time! When have you ever gotten a good answer?”

Simon’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “My bad.”

You kept squinting at his retreating figure. Another member of your team met your eye, before quickly scrambling away.

You hummed in thought. Did they all think you were a bitch? Maybe you were.

Good. It’d do you some good in Korea.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles​

[angelz-dust]

masters of none - part 3 (jason todd x reader)

summary: i wanted to give you guys a more jason focused chapter. i plan on doing more of these where the reader isn’t as heavily included or not even included at all. hopefully the jason chapter i do will be better because i feel like the quality of my writing dipped a little on this one fhjghdk the next part will be back in reader’s head i promise. anyway i hope you guys still enjoy. this chapter is a little more dangerous, so prepare yourself.

word count: 6k

warnings: illegal activities (street racing, running from the cops, gunfire). food and drink (non alcoholic). smoking.

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 4

rascal (superstar)

money, cash, clothes, fast cars

...

jason felt the cool nighttime air beating back against him, the rumble of his engine being the only thing he could hear as he rode his motorcycle down the quiet road in robbinsville. he felt naked being out and about at night in his civilian clothing but it was necessary for the task at hand. 

"exactly what does bruce want me to do?" jason asked barbara through their comm link.

"he wants you to report back with any intel you can get," barbara explained, the sound of her furious typing picking up in his ear. "my father thinks southside may be up to something. after that blow up between them and the penguin's guys, they've both been quiet. bruce just wants to make sure nothing's brewing under our noses."

"this is such a cop mission," jason complained as made a turn. "below my caliber, if i'm being honest."

"well, you'll have the races to keep you entertained," she reminded him. "i'll be on the line if you need me."

the races were the only reason jason had agreed to take on the little spy mission in the first place. sure, street racing was very illegal but it was also very entertaining. barbara was correct on that end. he just hoped it wouldn't be a complete waste of his time and he'd actually get some information out of the whole thing. he had to admit that it was a tolerable change of pace from the monotony that was patrolling crime alley. jason had passed the baton to cass for the night. she was the only person he trusted to do a good job. he refused to let just anyone take over his patrol route. things were different in crime alley. it required a... gentler touch that only he could provide and that he felt cass had an understanding of. one of the things he promised himself he'd do with his undeserved second chance at life was to protect the people who needed it most. it didn't matter how monotonous patrol became, or how tired he felt, or how how hard things got. he'd protect them all until his body didn't let him anymore.

jason could see his destination, the abandoned industrial park, in the distance. there were several cars parked all throughout it with people congregating around them. from what he could see, everything seemed calm. the closer he got, the better he could hear the loud music playing from the cars. he slowly pulled up, getting some looks from the people he passed by on his way to park it. coming here alone may have been a bad idea. he should've dragged dick along with him. it would've made blending in easier. he dismounted his bike, propping it up on the kickstand and pulling his helmet off his head. as he casually fixed his hair, he did a quick scan of the area. there were several groups of people scattered around while the road was being prepared for the race. 

he saw a group of rowdy socialites a bit overdressed for a street race. he could use them as cover but the last thing he wanted to do was willingly be around the likes of them. there was one small group tucked away, standing around an electric blue sports car. their eyes were shifty and he could see they were trying to keep their voices down, even when they were far away from everyone else. he'd have to keep an eye on them. jason's eyes fell on the group of people counting money, presumably the betting pot. placing one would be a good way of blending in organically. he had made sure to grab some money from the emergency stash when he left the manor for this very reason. he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, making his way over to the crowded area.

"we're short by a thousand," a woman, the bookkeeper, announced.

"pitch in," a man said, elbowing another guy.

quinton kelly, jason thought to himself, recognizing the rapper that stephanie and duke liked so much. 

"i don't have a fucking band on me," quinton laughed in response, pulling out his wallet. "i can put down three."

"i'll match that," another man spoke up, a cigarette in his mouth. if memory served, which jason liked to think it did, that was tyler ronan. 

"who else has money burning a hole in their pocket?" the bookkeeper shouted out, making the group laugh. 

"come on, superstar. donate to the cause," the man from earlier spoke up, bothering someone else now.

"hell no," an oddly familiar female voice said. jason's eyes searched for the source. "are you insane?"

surprise flashed across his face when he realized who the voice belonged to. it was you. y/n l/n. the girl from the gala. his bard. he felt an odd sensation building in his stomach. he had convinced himself he was never going to see you again yet here you were. your presence made sense. quinton and tyler were members of cloud 9, just like you were. he wasn’t sure if he was happy to see you or if he was glad he could use you as cover. he could just follow you around and no one would question it. this was him banking on the assumption that you'd actually want to speak to him. he was hoping that he made a good impression on you at the gala. your interaction was short, but memorable. at least it was to him. staring at you like a deer in headlights wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he spoke up.

"i can put down four," he said, emerging from the back of the group. he felt all the eyes on him and he could hear the whispers. he ignored them all, his attention fully on the bookkeeper. the surprised look on her face led him to believe that she recognized him, too.

"well, i'm not going to turn down old money," she joked, getting some laughs. "what's your name? there's so many of you wayne kids, i can't keep track."

jason chuckled, nodding in understanding. even he lost track sometimes. "jason."

"okay, mr. jason wayne," she said, taking his name down. 

"it's todd," you said, catching him off guard. his eyes met yours, a small smile appearing on his lips. 

"oh, excuse me," she laughed, correcting herself. "mr. jason todd."

"i'm racking up the celebrity bets tonight," the man, who jason now deducted was the driver, grinned. 

"yeah, so don't embarrass us by losing," the bookkeeper said seriously, counting up the money. 

"alright! let's get this shit started!" someone yelled, everyone cheering loudly and moving in towards the finish line.

you, tyler, and quinton were walking over as a group, but jason noticed you were trailing behind. he couldn't help but think in the back of his mind that you had slowed your stride for him. he made his way over to you, being greeted by your sweet smile.

“hi jason,” you said softly, keeping your voice low. “i didn’t think i’d see you here tonight.”

“i could say the same about you,” jason couldn’t help but wonder what it was you were doing a street race. yes, there were other celebrities there but he didn’t peg you as the type to hang out with gang members. but then again, this was gotham. “can’t say i’m disappointed to see you, though.”

your smile grew, your eyes crinkling a little. “well, the feeling is mutual. it’s nice to see you, too.”

what he said was the truth. it wasn't something he said to try and butter you up, although that may have influenced his decision to tell you how he felt. he really did enjoy your company, both as red hood and as jason. he wasn’t particularly looking forward to his mission but now he was glad he accepted. 

"hey," you called out, sticking your foot out and kicking quinton in the butt with the tip of your shoe. quinton turned around and gave jason a look. after a moment, he held his hand out to him. 

"what's up, man?" he greeted jason, dapping him up, tyler doing the same. "you hanging with us tonight?"

"yes, he is," you answered for him, making jason grin. 

he was glad you were eager to keep him around. now he didn't have to try and convince you or insert himself awkwardly. "can you spot me?" jason asked, gesturing towards tyler's cigarette.

"sure thing," tyler nodded, holding the carton out for him. jason plucked one out of the box, quickly lighting it and taking a long drag. 

while the three of you talked, jason took the opportunity to try and listen in on the other conversations happening around him. it was like he was playing with a radio, tuning in and out of conversations as he saw fit. none of them were interesting or helpful, though. they were pretty boring and mostly topical, pertaining to the race, the cars, and just other mindless bullshit.

"yeah, we're gonna drop the stuff off at the docks after the race. mix it in with the bite bottles," he heard someone say. 

bingo. he didn't know what the stuff was but he assumed it was nothing good, especially if it was being hidden with something as harmless as track bite. he'd have to look into that later. it was safe to assume they were referring to were the docks off of cape carmine, not too far from the current location. jason lightly pressed on his comm link, glancing around before speaking quietly. 

"i think something might go down at the docks later tonight," he said, hearing barbara's shuffling.

"cape carmine?" 

"i would assume so. they were talking about hiding some shit with track bite bottles."

"knowing them it could be something as simple as drugs or complex as new tech. just keep me posted."

jason was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the low rumble of car engines. the first car was candy apple red 240sx, souped up beyond comprehension. the other was as glossy black gtr, more subtle in presentation. as he admired the cars rolling by, he realized something. he turned his head towards you, clearing his throat.

"which car did i bet on?" he asked you quietly, getting a confused smile from you. 

"the red one," you said through a little laugh. "did you seriously bet without knowing?"

"perhaps," jason shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

"idiot," you shook your head, making him laugh now. 

"well, your friends knew. i trust their judgement."

"as you should," quinton said, catching the tail end of the conversation between you both. "our boy spider knows what he's doing."

you and jason looked out at the road again, watching as it was prepped with track bite and then lit on fire with propane. jason glanced over at you, noticing you were struggling to see behind your very tall friends and the other people in the way. he gently tapped your arm, non verbally offering you a spot in front of him. you accepted with a smile, working your way in front of him.

"don't get any ashes in my hair," you playfully told him. he went to do just that, pretending to tap off the excess from his cigarette on your head, purposefully missing so you could see the ashes fall down in front of you. you gasped, moving back, his firm abdomen pressed against you. with your head against his chest, you looked up at him and glared.

"okay, okay, i'm sorry," jason laughed, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth. "you made it too easy."

"you're such an ass," you rolled your eyes, turning back around and moving out of his personal space bubble. jason's shit eating grin never left his face as he took another drag, making sure to keep the smoke and ashes as far from you as he could. the flagger for the race walked out as the cars pulled up to the starting line. with the street prepped and the cameras set up, the main race was finally going to begin. 

"gigante wants us to head out early, so we need to leave after this." 

these idiots just loved talking about sensitive information out loud, didn't they? it made jason’s job a whole lot easier so he couldn't complain. it was too bad that he'd have to leave early for the lead, though. he was just starting to get comfortable around you again. it seemed to be a running theme with the two of you.

the cars flashed their high beams, the flagger waiting a moment before giving the signal. as soon as he did, the drivers pressed down on the gas, their tires screeching against the concrete. spider's car popped a wheelie before speeding down the street, the black gtr not far behind. the 240sx was swerving, which would normally be alarming with an inexperienced driver behind the wheel. thankfully, the gtr stayed straight. despite spider’s sloppy swerving, the two cars were still neck and neck. it wasn't long before they zoomed past the crowd, eventually slowing down at the end of the road. it happened so quickly but it looked like spider had just barely passed the finish line before the gtr. 

"review the fucking footage!" someone from the other side shouted. 

there was a lot of money riding on the race, so naturally tensions were high. jason could hear arguments as two people went to go grab the cameras so they could look over the recordings. aside from the arguing, it was very quiet while everyone waited for the results.

"it's the 240!" they announced, looking at the footage on a tablet. there was a mix of cheers and objections. people were demanding to see the footage themselves but it was clear that the ruling was accurate and final. just as the two bookkeepers made the money exchange, accepting the results of the race.

"see, y/n? your boy was right to trust us," quinton grinned, patting jason's back, who grinned back. “easy money. not that you needed it.”

"i'll go grab our cuts?" tyler questioned, looking between quinton and jason, who agreed. "alright, i'll be back."

jason's eyes were glued on the two men he was eavesdropping on earlier. they were headed over to the same area tyler was going, presumably to get their cut of the money. there was a huge crowd of people, so it would probably take awhile. during jason’s observation, quinton had walked off to talk to someone else, leaving you with him. he probably had a few more minutes before he’d have to go back to being red hood, so he wanted to make the most of it. 

“so, you come to these things often?” jason asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. he wasn’t sure if you’d give him the answer he was looking for but it was worth a shot.

“not really. i got dragged here,” you shrugged, getting a nod from him. he was slightly relieved, hoping that meant you weren’t heavily involved with the people there. it would be convenient to get information from you but he didn’t want to spend the little time he had left interrogating you. “what about you?”

“i’ve been to a few,” he admitted, looking back at his two targets. they were still waiting around with tyler. his attention quickly went back to you. “how’s your wife?”

your brows furrowed briefly before your eyes widened. “oh, misha. she’s my ex-wife now, technically.”

“my deepest condolences,” jason joked. “does that make me a home wrecker after all?”

you hummed, looking up at the night sky as you thought it over. “no, i don’t think so. you’re more than welcome to be my back up plan, though.”

a hearty laugh came from jason, making his chest tingle. that was probably the douchiest thing he had ever said to someone. he was lucky you hadn’t slapped him or threw your drink in his face for being so bold that night. jason looked over at the group again, noticing that tyler was in the middle of getting the money, his two targets right behind him. he frowned a little, realizing that he’d have to excuse himself. just as he was about to, he heard some yelling in the distance. you both looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. 

before jason could even find the source of the commotion, he heard the sound of police sirens and the red and blue lights that naturally accompanied it. the crowd quickly reacted, stampeding away and back towards the parking area. people were yelling and cursing but loud screams replaced it all when gunshots rung out. jason immediately reached out to you, pulling you into his body while he searched for a way out. 

"come on!" jason shouted, grabbing your arm and starting to drag you away. he needed to get you both out of there as soon as possible.

"wait!" you gasped, looking around for your friends. jason could tell you were panicking as you tried to find them, but there was no time. not while the gunshots got louder and more frequent. "tyler! quinton!"

"we have to go, y/n! come on!" he firmly grabbed your hand and pulled, you reluctantly running off with him. he looked around for his bike, pushing through people as he worked his way over.

"god, you're parked in fucking guam!" you complained about the distance, trying to keep up with him. 

"less talking, more running!"

you both made it to the bike, him put on his helmet and passing you yours. as you both mounted the bike, he felt your arms wrap tightly around his midsection and your cheek press into his back. "hold on tight, alright?" he said before speeding off, slipping expertly through the parked cars and people in his way.

as he rode his bike through the park, there were several cars with the same idea, all evacuating the area by going out the same way. too impatient to wait, he began weaving through the cars. it didn't take long for the huge group to get to the main streets where more cops were waiting for them. many of the cars began making wild turns off road and going in the opposite direction but jason had other plans. he picked up speed, heading straight for the forming blockade.

"you're heading straight for the cops!" you yelled, tightening your grip around him. 

"keen observation!" 

"maybe you should turn around?"

"nah, i'm good!" jason told you, cockiness lacing his words. he knew what he was doing. "you trust me, right?"

"i don’t even know you!" you said back, peeking over his shoulder before hiding your face in his back as he continued approaching the cars at a violent speed. jason easily slipped through the cop cars, making it through before the road was blocked off. 

jason smirked, making a sharp turn down the curving street. he was about to say something smug when he heard the sirens getting closer. he glanced at his mirror, seeing one of the cars trailing him. shit.

"shit."

"jason!"

"i know!" 

his grip on the handle bars tightened as he sped up, trying to find a way to lose the cop without putting you in danger. if it was just him, he'd do some more risky maneuvers but he really didn't want you flying off the back of his bike. he'd have to lose them in a safer way. 

"pull over your vehicle! this is your only warning!" the officer said through the speaker of the car.

jason really didn't want to take you through crime alley or the bowery, so his best bet was driving towards blüdhaven. it was better than finding a way to turn around in order to stay in gotham and blüdhaven was much closer, anyway. hopefully he'd lose the cop after crossing city lines. he really didn't want to circumnavigate the planet to get away from one cop.

he had an idea. a stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. he was getting dangerously close to traffic and as long as you stayed tightly wrapped around him, he could slip through and cross the bridge to blüdhaven, losing the cop in the process. would you like it? probably not, but he was running out of options. 

"jason, what are you doing?" you asked frantically, the bright city lights getting closer and closer.

"something stupid," he sped up, trying to put more distance between him and the cop. "do not move a muscle."

"stop the vehicle! now!" the cop yelled through the speaker again. 

jason could smell the burning rubber of his tires as he turned down the street, the sound of horns honking as he slipped through traffic, the cop still hot on his tail. he slowed down a little in order to make accurate and much safer movements as traffic got denser, giving him more cars to avoid. he glanced at the mirror again, seeing he had made a some good distance. if he could keep it up, he'd lose the cop in no time. the bridge to blüdhaven wasn't much farther. 

"jason, look out!" you yelled, pointing to the oncoming sixteen wheeler about to cut both of you off. there was a reason you weren't supposed to run red lights. 

he had two options: come to a screeching halt, turning the both of you into projectiles or keep pushing and pray to god that you both didn't get t-boned by the s.t.a.r labs semi. jason furrowed his brows and set his jaw speeding up as much as he could. he could hear the loud horn ringing in his ears but he kept laser focus on his intended destination. he zipped past the truck, just barely going fast enough to not get hit. in the driver's attempt to not hit you two, he stopped in the middle of the street, preventing the cop from being able to follow anymore. jason's heart was hammering in his chest as he rode down the bridge down to blüdhaven, the warm yellow streetlights illuminating the way. once he crossed over, he headed to a nearby diner. he parked in the back lot, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"hey, are you alright?" he asked, taking off his helmet and getting off the bike. he hung it from the handlebar, helping you dismount. he hesitantly moved his hands towards your face, unclipping your helmet and pulling it off your head. "y/n? talk to me. are you hurt?"

"n-no, i'm fine," you told him shakily. seeing you all shaken up made him feel terrible. he wasn't sure how to comfort you without overstepping boundaries, so he kept his distance, giving you time to recover. after you collected yourself, jason flinched at your sudden physical attacks.

"i can't believe you!" you yelled, abusing his chest with smacks and punches. "you almost got us killed!"

"i-i'm sorry!" he sputtered, grabbing your wrists to stop you from hitting him. "i didn't know what else to do!"

you looked at him, a hard expression on your face. god, you probably hated him and he couldn’t blame you. leave it to him to fuck some shit up. his self deprecating thoughts began to subside when he saw the smile of disbelief forming on your face. "jason todd, you are a fucking maniac."

he loosened his grip on your wrists, a smile slowly making its way to his face, mirroring yours. "i've been called worse."

"just another fucking day in gotham," you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "or blüdhaven, i guess."

"yeah, sorry about that," he apologized with a frown. "that bastard was persistent."

"don't worry about it," you reassured him, letting out a deep sigh. "i need to call my friends and make sure they're alright."

jason nodded, grabbing his own phone. "yeah, i gotta make a call, too."

the two of you separated, jason only pretending to be on the phone so he could talk to barbara. "you there?"

"yeah. i see you went on a little drive," she said, her almost sounding like scolding.

"what the hell was i supposed to do? we had to get out of there," jason frowned. 

"we?" barbara echoed and jason could practically hear the quirk in her brow. 

"not important. what's important is acknowledging the fact that i didn't hear the sweet sound of your voice earlier," jason started off sarcastically, it being his turn to scold now. "where the hell were you at, almighty oracle? you didn't wanna tell me the cops were gonna show up?"

"i didn't know they were out there," she admitted honestly, sounding confused. "they must have been keeping it on the down low. the question now is why."

"probably so people like us wouldn't find out," jason sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"maybe," she sounded unsure. being unsure wasn't really barbara’s thing, so that was alarming.

"well, i doubt anything will go down at the docks now. the area's too hot."

"you're probably right. there's nothing else we can do tonight," barbara sighed. "glad you're not dead."

"yeah, thanks," jason gave her a quick goodbye, putting his phone away and walking back to his bike. you had just finished your conversation, looking relieved. "good news?"

"tyler and quinton got out fine. i think they took a different exit out because i didn't see them with that big group we were in," you explained, shivering a little. 

"we should go inside. it'll be better than loitering out here," jason offered and you nodded in agreement. you entered the diner, noticing there weren't many people inside.

"let's sit in that booth over there," you pointed over to the near the window, jason's bike being visible on the outside. 

you both made your way over, sliding into your seats. the atmosphere was a bit awkward initially, the both of you still coming down from your adrenaline rush. jason hooked his finger under the little acrylic standee holding the dessert menu, pulling it towards himself. a nice cup of coffee with something sweet sounded good right about now. it would definitely calm his nerves. he wasn’t sure if you’d get anything, though. maybe you were too frazzled to eat, which made him feel bad again. before his negative thoughts could return, he looked up, noticing you eyeballing the menu leaning against the window sill. you had your head tilted to the side, as the menu was stored horizontally, making it difficult to read the text. he couldn't help but smile to himself as you squinted at it. why would didn't just grab the menu to look at it properly, he didn't know. he wasn't going to question it, though, simply putting his menu back where he found it. 

"what can i get you kids tonight?" the approaching waitress asked, pulling out her notepad. 

"a black coffee and a slice of pie for me," jason said as the waitress quickly wrote his order down. 

"is apple alright?" she asked and jason nodded. "what about you, hon?"

"um... blueberry waffles," you said, tilting your head some more before looking at her. "and hot chocolate."

the waitress smiled at your order, nodding as she jotted it down. "you want some bacon or sausage on the side? we have pork and turkey."

you hummed, drumming your fingers on the table. "yes. turkey bacon."

"shouldn't take but a minute. if you two find yourselves wanting anything else, you just let me know."

jason yawned, leaning back against his seat with outstretched arms. he did some people watching while he waited for the waitress to return. there was a small group of people, college students most likely, sitting at the middle tables with textbooks and empty plates strewn about. there was a cop sitting at the bar, very obviously flirting with the other, much younger waitress who was refilling his coffee. then there was you and him. he had been with you for quite some time now and he hadn't taken the opportunity to look at you. to really look at you. you absentmindedly played with the hair that directly framed your face while you were on your phone. you looked awfully comfortable in your oversized sweatshirt despite your shivering earlier. you weren't really dressed up, he noticed. it didn't look like you had on any makeup either. then again, tim had told him that people who wore makeup had the ability to make it look like they weren't wearing any at all. the natural look was what it was called. either way, your face looked nice. so did your hair. and your eyes, that were now gazing into his.

"you know, i definitely didn't see myself ending up here tonight."

jason's brow perked up. "what? running from the cops on the back of my motorcycle wasn't on your bingo card?"

"can't say it was," you shook your head with a smile. 

"are you disappointed?"

"with?"

"where you ended up tonight."

"no," you said, not missing a beat. your lack of hesitation surprised him in the best way possible. "sure, you almost killed me but that's a typical tuesday for a gothamite."

jason grinned, biting his lip. "i'm sorry about that. really, i-"

"no, no," you cut him off, dismissing his apology with a wave of the hand. "don't apologize. it's over and done with."

even though you seemed to be okay with everything, he still felt like shit. that feeling wasn’t going away any time soon. the waitress returned with your food and drinks, receiving thanks from you both. jason immediately took a sip of his coffee, the potent flavor coating his tongue and the warmth of the liquid heating his body up. it helped soothe some of his anxiety.

"this is so cute," you muttered, taking a picture of your plate. the chef had arranged the blueberries and bacon to make a smiley face that you couldn't help but smile back at. once you got a good picture, you started digging in. 

there was no conversation to be had. the two of you just ate, occasionally glancing at each other or at your phones. every now and then your eyes would meet and little smiles would be shared. you and jason were people who appreciated the intimacy of silence. not talking was often harder than holding a conversation. being able to sit in complete silence with someone and not feel uncomfortable at any point was a hard task for most but it came naturally to you both. not that you two had much to talk about anyway. you barely knew each other and you definitely weren’t about to bond over your near death experience. jason didn’t want to risk possibly fucking up even more than he already had, so not talking worked for him. it didn’t help keep his intrusive thoughts out, though. he tried not to focus on them, distracting himself with people watching and looking at you.

“where did you learn to ride like that?” you asked him, suspicion lacing your words. you popped a blueberry into your mouth, tilting your head at him.

“uh...” he trailed off, shrugging softly as he hid his face in his mug, drinking the liquid inside. “nowhere. myself. i don’t know. i guess it was just the adrenaline. why?”

you shrugged back at him, reaching over and stealing a small piece of his pie. you looked him in the eye as you ate it, licking the food off your fork as your eyes narrowed. “you know how i’m batman? i’m starting to think you might be catwoman.”

jason snorted, breathing out a laugh as he looked around the diner in disbelief. not only did he find your little joke funny, the fact that you technically weren’t that far off was amusing to him. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you aren’t denying it?” your brow raised, making him laugh again. “ah, i’ve caught you red handed.”

oh, this was just the gift that kept on giving. now you were making puns without even realizing it. 

“i mean, it all makes sense. the unnecessary flirting, calling me out for being a vigilante, and now running from the cops,” you clicked your tongue with a shake of the head, carefully wiping the corners of your mouth. you balled up your napkin, tossing it on your now empty plate. “i don’t know why you thought that i, the greatest detective in gotham, wouldn’t be able to piece this all together. i’m offended, really.”

“can i get you two anything else tonight?” the waitress asked as she walked up, just missing your conversation.

“no, ma’am. i think we’re good,” jason smirked, not taking his eyes off of you. she left the check on the table, walking off. jason pulled out his wallet, leaving a twenty to cover both the food and the tip. 

“wayne money or dirty money? the world will never know,” you quipped as the two of you got up to leave, making him roll his eyes.

“shut up.”

after a quick pit stop at the gas station, jason took you back to your apartment in the diamond district. the ride there was long, but nice, accompanied by music coming from the radio. a cloud 9 song played at one point and jason decided that he might have to give your discography a listen. the way you held yourself against him, nuzzling into his back gave him goosebumps. or maybe it was just the nippy temperature. he hoped that’s all it was. for awhile, he wondered if you were cold. if his jacket was warmer, he would’ve offered it to you a long time ago. and, of course, if it wasn't so cliché. with the way you were attached to him, he liked to think that his body heat was enough. relief washed over him when he pulled up in front of gotham tower. he wasn’t sure how much more he of that could take. he parked, letting you off.

"do you wanna come in?" you pulled him from his thoughts as you took off your helmet. 

"come in?" he parroted, a laugh falling from your lips.

"i'm not asking you to spend the night or anything. it’s just.. you’ve been acting like my chauffeur all night and it isn’t safe to be out this late. i'd feel horrible if something happened to you," you explained, getting a smile from him. 

"don't worry about me. i'll be fine. my place isn't too far from here," he lied with a shrug. his safehouse was nowhere near the diamond district but you didn’t need to know that little detail. the rest of what he said was true. he was going to be fine. “besides, i’m catwoman, remember?”

"at least let me give you my number," you insisted with a giggle, pulling out your phone. "you have to text me when you get home."

jason agreed and the two of you exchanged numbers, bidding each other goodbye. he made sure to stay and watch you go up before leaving. on his way home, he thought about your concern for his wellbeing, finding it cute. misplaced, but cute. it wasn't your fault, though. you didn't know he was more than capable of taking care of himself and the whole damn city, for that matter. you know, as catwoman. still, it was sweet having someone worry about him for a change, even if it wasn’t completely necessary. when he got back to his safe house he texted you, just as promised. you must've been waiting for him because you responded pretty quick. he crawled into bed, smiling down at the heart emojis you sent him. he decided to send you something back before going to sleep, his thumbs slowly typing out the words that popped into his head.

you better not start texting me all the time.

don't flatter yourself. i won’t.

he hoped that you would anyway.

[indecisivedolly]

Silent Words - Chapter 4

Word count: 1418

Warnings: cursing, angst and fighting, a little more fluff (i’m starting to go soft on y’all)

A/N: lmfao y’all 💀 I apologize okay, I don’t have anything to say for myself. I promise better times, better chapters and more frequent updates for the future 😳

Upon arriving at the safehouse, Y/N got out of the car before Bucky could park. She felt so relieved by fulfilling her father’s first wish that the young woman felt happy, so happy she could cook. In the meanwhile, Bucky was slightly startled seeing Y/N in such a chipper mood. The last time he checked, she had the blood of a man on her hands; literally. Even he always felt some sort of dreadfulness after killing the evilest people, and he’s killed a lot of people. After parking the car, he entered the house and heard the clinking of pots and pans and a hummed melody. He gulped, something must be seriously wrong. Is this her way of dissociating from what she just did?

“Y/N....” He said hesitantly. She hummed and turned around, looking at him expectantly.

He took in her appearance before he spoke.

“What- what are you doing?” Bucky stammered.

“Well, since I’ve had such a productive day, I figured I’d cook a nice dinner to celebrate the day!” Still as chipper as in the car.

He blinked, unable to say anything.

Her chipper attitude slowly turned into confusion, then into annoyance. “Are you gonna keep looking at me like you’ve peed your pants or are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” She huffed.

“You’re... Covered in blood.” He said quietly, looking at her once crisp white shirt.

Her eyebrows shot up while her hand grabbed the nearest pan lid to look at herself. “Oh... Oh.” She slowly put down the lid and left the kitchen.

Bucky turned his body to watch her go. He hesitated to check up on her, but since he didn’t want any more scolding from her, he decided to finish making dinner instead.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N joined Bucky in the kitchen. Even though he wasn’t facing her, he knew that she was holding that envelope. She started reading.

My second wish is that you give Jackson Frazier my cigars. He used to love clipping cigars and smoking them, give him my 5x39 bundles.

“This is a 39 gun, if you shoot someone five times you get 5x39.” Dad shot me a knowing look, pay attention. “Like the cigars! You clip the head off and smoke ‘em. I would murder for one of those right now.” She nodded four times.

Bucky looked at her after she was quiet too long. She’s all up in her thoughts again, he thought. He patiently waited for her to snap out of it while scooping the food onto the plates.

“He wants me to take out Jackson Frazier too. He owed my dad big money but never paid him. A 5x39 means shooting someone five times with a 39 gun.” She said.

He nodded. He placed the plates, forks and cups on the table and got a bottle of wine. Even though he couldn’t get drunk, he liked the taste of it.

Bucky and Y/N sat across each other and quietly ate dinner.

“Have you ever killed someone.. before today?”

She was about to have another bite from the heavenly dinner when Bucky’s timid voice broke the silence. He’s a good cook, but he can’t stop talking at the most inappropriate times to save his life. “Yes.” The fork quickly entered her mouth before he could ask another question.

“Do you feel okay though?” He said, voice more secure.

Her fork clinked against her plate and a loud sigh screeched the air. The woman opposite Bucky looked up to the sky and folded her hands together. “Dear God, even though I’m not really religious, please for the love of God -that would be you- make him shut the fuck up. Sorry for cursing.” The last part she added quickly. Then, her fork picked up its journey back to her mouth.

“Do you constantly have to be this stingy? I’m just trying to have a conversation with you and that won’t really work if you keep acting like this all the time.” Bucky said, tired of her attitude.

Y/N stared at him. “Do you seriously think you have the right to call me out on my behavior?” Silence. “No really, do you?” The chair fell back because of her standing so abruptly.

Her anger started to build up. “Because I think I’m the one who should do that. You left me waiting for you, you promised me you’d come back and went on to crush my fucking hope as if I had plenty of it laying around. Do you enjoy hurting people? Is that it?”

There it was, he thought.

She took a step towards Bucky.

“No, Y/N.” His voice laced with pain, still sitting down while his eyes are glued to the table.

She started shouting; “Did you sleep better, knowing that there was someone out there waiting for you and slowly losing hope? Not knowing whether they should move on or keep waiting?”

Bucky’s body went rigid, she couldn’t say that. His emotions were trying to escape from his body, but they were unable to do so. “You- you can’t say that. You know you can’t say that.” His voice cracked while he clenched his fists. Even though her face was inches from his, he didn’t dare to look at her.

“No, after all those years of leaving me in the fucking dark, I think I have the right to call you out on your shit. Do you know what my father used to do with people who break their promises? Do you know what he usually did with dishonest people? Two bullets in the mouth and two in the heart. Two in the mouth so that they can never use their tongue for dishonesty again.” Gasps to compensate for the lack of air running through her lungs, their faces were closer to each other than realized. “And two to the heart to feel the heartbreak they have caused.” She walked away from him to the living room.

Bucky snapped. He shot up, followed her and roughly grabbed Y/N by her upper arm with his right hand, not trusting his metal one. “Have you got any fucking idea what I have been through? And I don’t even mean my whole life, I mean after I lost you in Bucharest. I found my friend, I lost myself and then him again. How on earth could I face you, knowing that I’m broken and could hurt you?” Bucky’s loud voice echoed.

Y/N finally looked into his eyes and was startled to see those deep blue eyes filled with sadness.

“I tried to fix myself and as I finally started making progress, they pulled me into another fight. I didn’t want to fight anymore, Y/N. I really didn’t. I wanted peace. But I still fought. I fought for my friend only for him to leave me again. I’ve been God knows where for 5 fucking years, dead maybe? I don’t fucking know. So I’m sorry for not coming back to you any sooner and I’m sorry for making you feel like I broke my promise. I was working on myself to be better for you.” Panting, Bucky let go of her arm and sat down on the couch to recover from his outburst. “Everything I did at the time, every choice I made, I did it all for you.” Bucky said softly, his body now slouched forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Y/N couldn’t look at him, but the sound of Bucky getting up and leaving rang loudly through her mind long after he left. She decided to sit down on the couch. Suddenly, all those feelings that have been pushed away throughout the years hit like a wave and she choked out a sob. How could I be so selfish? How could I only think about how I felt without thinking about his feelings? She let out a loud and unexpected sob without even realizing it. Shocked, her hand rushed to her mouth to try and stop herself. I don’t really want to crop up my feelings anymore, she thought. And out they went, until her headache and dry mouth replaced themselves with sleep. After an unknown amount of time, Y/N felt someone lift her from the couch and placed onto a much softer surface. Sleep and consciousness took their turns on her. Before she fully emerged into sleep, a sweet whisper filled her ears;

“I would’ve found you and come back to you, I always come back to you.”

Taglist:

@saiyanprincessswanie @disasterbii @zaynzierulez @kingbuckyx @ms-marisz

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Truths (One-shot)

A/N: More Gerard fic because, I don’t know, I’m kind of bored and have some ideas. I just recently found out about Gerard and Eliza. I’ve always been one for girls sticking up for girls, but she seemed a little crazy to me, not gonna lie. I hope you all enjoy it, and please, excuse my mediocre writing. Summary: (Kind of cliche) You meet Gerard on the Projekt Revolution tour, the two of you becoming close friends almost instantly. You were the lead singer of a small rock band which was blowing up during the time, their music hitting mainstream rock radio. During the tour, Gee ends up breaking up with his girlfriend Eliza. Like anyone is with a breakup, he’s pretty down, but you as well as others try to get him back up.

Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader

Words: 2395

Gerard was hurting, and you knew that.

On stage, he was an absolute beast. He could control the crowd as if he had grabbed their necks with his bare hand, he would sing his entire soul out and would give everyone one hell of a show. But then there was the off-stage, everyday dude Gerard.

He was a sweet, kind-hearted, funny, slightly disgusting guy who just like everyone else had flaws. And his tendency to care too much and put too much blame on himself was one of them.

“How’s he doing?” You walked up to Frank, who was outside of the bus smoking a cigarette. It was hot out, a scorching 90 degrees on the black pavement that everyone’s vehicles were placed on, and yet here you and Frank stood out of the comfort of air conditioning, out of care for your friend.

“Not great,” he admitted, taking another long and slow inhale, letting the smoke cascade out of his mouth. “And Eliza being bat shit crazy isn’t helping.” You sighed.

“What’s she up to now?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him. You were only three or four inches shorter than Frank, being the smallest of anyone on tour.

“Won’t stop calling, texting, emailing.” He sighed, “She’s threatening him, saying she’s gonna kill herself, some crazy shit like that. I don’t know man, it’s eating him up.” You nodded.

“Where are the other three?” You inquired next.

“Ray just went out to grab some food, Bob is in someone else’s bus, I don’t know who, and Mikey’s inside, trying to help.” You looked down, letting an inaudible sigh trail from your lips. “If you want to go in, I’m sure you can. Gee would probably be happy to see you.” You lightly smiled.

“Ya think?” You asked, looking back up at him.

“Oh, I know.” He let out the last bud of his cigarette, throwing it down and rubbing it into the concrete with his shoe. “I mean, let’s be honest. You’re the highlight for most people on this tour. And your music is fucking insanely good.”

“Thanks, Frank.” You lightly blushed at his compliment. You knocked on the bus door, hearing Mikey say, “Come in.” before entering. Opening the door, and slowly closing it, you looked up to see Gerard, head in his hands obviously in distress, Mikey next to him, his hand on his back soothing him.

“Hey Y/N.” Mikey lightly smiled. At the sound of your name, Gerard looked up, giving you barely a smile. You smiled back.

“Hey, guys.” You said, only taking a few steps closer. “I just wanted to come in and check on you, see how you’re doing, and if you need anything.” Your eyes moved between the two. Mikey looked at you, then at Gerard, then back at you, before getting up.

“I’ll let you talk to someone new, okay?” He asked Gerard, who nodded. You moved to the side, letting Mikey, who flashed you a cringe, exit the bus. You immediately took his place on the leather couch next to Gerard.

“Hey.” You said lightly, looking at him with a small smile.

“Hey.” He said back, looking up for only a brief moment. His voice was in such a somber tone it almost didn’t sound like him.

“How’re you?” You asked next.

“Honest?” He asked and you nodded, “Not well, I feel like shit.” You sighed, looking back at him.

“I’m sorry Gee,” You said, barely above a whisper, “I really am.” He nodded, taking your sympathy.

You sat there for a few moments in awkward silence, both of you trying to decide within your heads who should go first, and what should be said. “Thank you for coming.” Gerard finally spoke up, “I really appreciate you checking on me.”

“Yeah of course.” You smiled, “That’s what friends are for.”

“I just hate bringing other people into my drama.”

“Hey, hey,” You looked at him, placing your hand on his, “You’re not the one starting the drama, so I don’t mind it.” He nodded. A few more moments of silence lingered between you two.

“Can I tell you something?” He looked up, making eye contact with you.

“Yeah, anything Gee.” You replied.

“I feel like Eliza really frayed our relationship, and I really hated that.” He said, “I’ve always found you to be someone I can talk to and you’ll listen and hear me and understand me, and I feel like she really tried to pull us apart.” You knew exactly what he meant. In fact, you had known for a lot longer.

You had known Gerard for three years, meeting him when your band was still playing crowds of 30 people, and Three Cheers had just been released. You and him had been good friends, but Eliza, well she was a problem.

“You need to stay away from Gerard.” She had told you only a few months prior.

“Excuse me?” You asked right back, outside of your tour bus. It was dark outside by now, probably after 10. “Gerard is one of my closest friends.”

“And he’s my boyfriend.” She sassed.

“He’s his own person.” You argued.

“I don’t want him seeing other girls.” She moved on, ignoring your valid point completely.

“We’re not seeing each other.” You clarified, “Gee and I are great friends, that’s it.” She rolled her eyes.

“I know you’re trying to take him,” She hissed through clenched teeth, “And I won’t allow that. So stop calling my boyfriend, texting my boyfriend, or contacting my boyfriend in general. And drop the nickname while you’re at it.” She smirked, trotting away like a rabid Chihuahua.

You never wanted to confront Gerard about the altercation, knowing you would have stirred the pot further. And you were sure as hell not going to tell him now when he needed less drama the most.

While you and Gerard were just friends, you had always found him quite attractive. Physically and as a person. You had kept it to yourself, only a few people really knowing. You managed to put on a pretty good “we’re just friends” face around him. “I think it was because she was jealous of you.” He spoke again.

“Oh?” You inquired. Of course, she was jealous of you. Not trying to boost your ego, but judging by her actions and words towards you, it couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Whenever I brought you up, her face would just turn almost sour.” He began, “And whenever we were around you, she would always get really protective. I had picked up on it and intended to talk to her, but I was just nervous, ya know?” You nodded. “So, I’m sorry. I was at fault for some of that for not speaking up.”

“It’s alright Gee.” You rubbed his upper arm, “Those were her own decisions, not your own.” He frowned.

“But I could’ve stopped her-”

“Knock off that nonsense.” You finally told him, “We’re still friends, Gee, and that’s what matters.”

“You’re really fucking good at looking at the bright side.” He said next, “It can annoying sometimes though.” You rolled your eyes as he smirked. You leaned back next to him.

“I could tell you we’re not friends anymore and I hate your guts now, which would be a complete lie. What would you think about that?”

“I think I would feel about a million times worst than I do right now.” He grabbed a cigarette putting it in his mouth and lighting it. After taking a long inhale, and an even longer exhale, he looked at you, motioning the rolled paper towards you. You shook your head knowing he was asking silently. He rolled his eyes. “Always miss goody two shoes.” You scoffed in response, “What? Are you going to sit here and tell me I’m wrong?” You didn’t even respond, just looked at him smirking. “What’s the worst thing you’ve done. The most rebellious?”

“I formed a rock band.” You smiled.

“Yeah, well everyone here did that.” He lightly laughed, “What about other than that.”

“Probably when I dyed my hair black.” You remembered that night.

“You sure you wanna do this Y/N?” Gerard asked as you two began getting the hair dye ready.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled, “And since you do it so often, I thought what better way to do it then with you?”

“Alright then,” He sighed, “Let’s start.”

“That’s it?” He asked. You nodded.

“Hey, it’s not like you’ve done any super rebellious stuff.”

“I was an alcoholic.” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s different, Gee.” You sighed, “At least you’re sober.” He nodded.

“What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to tell me?” He asked you, out of the blue.

“What?” You asked.

“What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to tell me?” He repeated himself, “For real. I want to know.”

“Oh um, okay,” You thought. Well not really. You wanted to tell him how you had liked him and had wanted to ask him out for the longest time, but felt like you couldn’t. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”

“But you tell me that on, like, a daily basis.” He said.

“Well yeah, but I am really really proud of you Gee. You’ve come so far in music and as a person from where you were when I first met you.” He lightly smiled.

“I could easily say the same for you.” He smirked, “But actually no, you haven’t changed as a person. Which is fine because you’re a great person.” You lightly blushed.

“What about you?” You asked, “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to ask me?”

“Honestly?” He asked.

“Honestly.” You reiterated.

“You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet.” You stopped, breath caught in your throat. You could feel your eyes go wide, mouth opening in shock, your face heating up to what you were sure was a bright red shade.

“R-really?” You asked lightly.

“Yeah,” He took another puff of his cigarette, “Of course. You haven’t been told that before?”

“Well by my parents, yeah, but that’s different.” You looked down at your fingers, pondering what to say next. “Can I change my answer?”

“Huh?” He asked.

“Can I change what I’ve wanted to tell you?”

“Sure.” He replied.

“I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know that sounds so juvenile and like I have a middle school crush, and it’s probably not great timing with all that’s going on, but you’re a great person and you’re really hot and handsome but you’re so kind.” You just looked at him, him looking back.

“Then can I change my answer?” You nodded, “I’ve felt the exact way but I was too scared to say so because I thought you deserve someone better than me.” You immediately shook your head.

“No, no I don’t Gee.” You lightly giggled. “Not that many guys like me, if any.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked, “There are teenage boys and full-grown men out there who I know get off to you.” You lightly gasped, gagging shortly after.

“Please, I don’t need that image.” He laughed.

“So does this mean that despite the fact I just broke up with my now ex-girlfriend, I can ask you out on a date?”

“Sure.” You lightly laughed.

“Is Cup Noodle fine?” He asked next, “Tomorrow at eleven, once everyone is out partying we can sit in here.” You laughed and nodded.

“Of course, Gee, that sounds absolutely perfect.” He gave you a genuine smile this time in response. “Do you feel alright now?” You asked.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Time skip because I’m low key lazy

“What’s one thing you really want, right now, on the road?” You asked Gee, the two of you laying on the couch together, some Cokes in hand. It was probably close to midnight, parties still raging on.

“A veggie burger.” He sighed, “Like a damn good veggie burger.” You lightly chuckled. “What about you?”

“Maybe some crappy Chinese food.” You lightly laughed, “Like really shitty Chinese food.” Gerard nodded.

“Chinese food sounds good.”

“I know.” You sighed.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get home?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” You thought, “Maybe I’ll spend some time at home with my parents. Just like a few weeks.” He nodded.

“I haven’t met your parents have I?” He asked. You shook your head.

“But I’ve met yours.” You smiled, “You’re mom’s sweet. A little crazy though, but sweet.” He lightly laughed.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You could come with me.” You looked at him from where the two of you laid. He looked back. “Meet my parents. See my house. Not for the whole time, but for a few days maybe.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready yet, ya know?” He said, “I’m not a great boyfriend, bring home to parents material.” You lightly laughed.

“My parents won’t care.” You smiled, “Their daughter is the lead singer of an alt-rock band. They don’t care anymore.” He lightly laughed this time.

“I’ll consider it.” He sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You replied.

“Could I kiss you?” You lightly smiled, turning to see him.

“Sure, Gee.” You turned to face him, he was already looking at you. He leaned in, to give you a light kiss. It wasn’t anything special on the outside, but of course, it was special to the two of you. You smiled into it, him pulling away a few seconds after.

“You’re pretty.” He said immediately after.

“You’re pretty too.”

“Yeah but not as pretty as you.” You smiled at him.

“You’re so adorable, Gee.”

“Adorable?” He asked, a little confused.

“Yeah,” You smiled, “Adorable.”

“Actually, the first thing I’m gonna do when we’re off is invite you on a real date.”

“This is a real date.” You told him.

“Yeah but like, going out somewhere.” You rolled your eyes.

“This is just fine, Gee.” You sighed, “Can we just eat pizza on my couch?” He nodded.

“I mean, it’ll be cheaper for me so-” You smiled.

“I’ll pay for half.”

“But that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” He lightly smiled.

“Oh Gee,” You grinned, “I learned long ago that you weren’t a gentleman, which is okay. Because I still like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot, too.”

(Pt. 2? I don’t know.)

[cheerynoir]

How Do We Come Back From This?

@c0ffeebee this one’s for you, and the three other people in this rowboat of a fandom. Please excuse any wonky characterization or mistakes, they’re all my own. Unebta’d. TW: smoking, drunkenness, drunk sex, Angst, Rio [Rio Is Her Own Warning].

#

Eventually the music gave him a headache and the crush of people made him claustrophobic. So Mateo stepped out for fresh air and shivered at the chill of it as his sweat cooled. His ears rang in the sudden quiet. Smokers huddled in little knots, here and there, and he leaned back upwind of them, breathing deep. It was nice to hear himself think for once.

“Got a light?” asked a smooth voice, and he turned and found a white woman in a man’s coat. Red hair. Dark, wide-set eyes. Something about her — the twist of her mouth, maybe — reminded him of a fox.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, and fumbled for the cheap zippo he’s started carrying when he realized most of his new friends lived on cigarettes and caffeine (and Rico was perpetually short a light).

He lit her cigarette and she smoked in silence for a while, before turning to him and pulling him into a conversation. He couldn’t remember what they spoke of - dancing, maybe? - but he knew the alley seemed very small, suddenly, with how they gravitated closer and closer. She tipped her face up for him, and it was a nice face, fine-boned and sharp-edged—

“Mateo,” cut in Diego. Mateo startled. He hadn’t even heard the back door bang open. “There you are.”

He didn’t look happy, but Mateo mustered up a smile. “Hey! I was just talking with—”

“Fuck off, Rio,” said Diego, without looking at Mateo at all. It was like he hadn’t spoken. A muscle in Diego’s jaw worked, and Mateo’d never seen him so closed off.

“Good seeing you, too, Diego,” the redhead replied, smirking a lopsided little smirk. “See you around, baby. Thanks for the light.”

“Don’t,” started Mateo, but the woman was already slinking away. “Call me that,” he muttered, and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling - out of sorts. Diego’s glower settled on him, black and heavy. “What?”

“Steer clear of her,” he said. And gestured impatiently. “C’mon. Fly’s looking for you.”

“What? Why? She seemed—” Hot. Intense. Dangerous. “— fine?”

Diego huffed out a breath and slammed the service door behind them, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Well she’s not. She’s a crazy bitch and you’re better off telling her to fuck herself.”

“Why?”

Diego sucked his teeth, looking torn. But he rolled his shoulders and gave his head a shake, looking like he was getting ready for a brawl.

“Rico doesn’t like her,” he settled on at last. “She’s banned from The Cat.”

That drew him up short. “What? I thought you only banned, like, cops and Nazis. Is she a Nazi?”

“No.” Jaw tight, he waved Mateo on. “Go on. You know how he gets.”

So he went, confused, and the feeling lingered, even through the happy fog that being in Fly’s orbit always left him in. Dett seemed to notice, because she snagged him a little later, a tray of shots in one hand.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, reflexive. Then, “Hey, do you know Rio? White girl, red hair? Kind of foxy?”

Dett narrowed her eyes at him, but jerked her chin. He trailed her awkwardly as she wound across the floor, making sales and gathering empties.

“She and Rico used to hang out,” she said on the way back to the bar, mouth a lipsticked twist of displeasure. The words felt forced, like maybe he’d yanked them out along with some teeth, maybe.

“They dated?”

“I don’t know what they did, except egg each other on. Like two sides of a fucking coin,” said Dett. “Fuck this - Fly! I’m taking my 15 and stealing your duckling!”

Engaged with a rowdy bachelorette party, flashing the flirty customer service grin Mateo hated, Rico only lifted a hand to wave her off. Mateo trailed her back out to the alley, feeling weirdly unsettled.

“I thought he didn’t date,” he ventured at last, settling down on an overturned milk-crate. That was his thing, wasn’t it? Unattainable, charismatic, painfully cool Fly Rico, who’d flirt with anybody but never follow through.

“Aw, ducky. He doesn’t date the babies. Everyone else is fair game,” she said, and patted his knee. “Buck up. So Rio was this spooky bitch who hung around for a while, back when we were younger and dumber. She loved to stir the pot and drag Rico into shit. Tagging a building wasn’t enough, she had to try and smash up a police station, that kind of thing, y’know?”

Something warm settled in the pit of his stomach. He leaned forward and watched Dett light a cigarette and blow a series of wobbly smoke rings. What were they like, back then? What was Rico like, young and wild and hungry for everything? It itched at him like smoke in his lungs, the curiosity.

But Dett drew up short and fixed him with a heavy, pointed look. “Hey. I’m only telling you this so you get th point. She’s bad news. I tell you, and you never bring it up again, never even breathe this bitch’s name, you got it?”

“I got it.”

“Swear,” she said sharply.

A lifetime of promises to Fina – sacred things, big and small – had him crossing his heart with the tip of his finger before he’d even realized his hand had moved. “I swear,” he said, and meant it. What was one more secret for the pile? He’d die before he told. But Dett only eyed him and smoked furiously for a few long minutes. Then she nodded, and seemed to relent.

“So one night we’re all out partying, and Rio disappears for a bit. Gets into a fight with some dick twice her size - and Rico jumps in to save her ass, break it up, whatever.” Dett blew out about sigh, sounding frustrated. “She got him knifed - or knifed him herself. I wasn’t there, I didn’t see. And you know him. He’d never rat. But. He nearly died.”

“What?” said Mateo, as if from a long ways away. The ember in the pit of his stomach turned to ice. He swallowed hard.

“In the hospital, after - I’d never seen Papa so mad. Banned Rio for life, not that any of us were fighting for her. She took off, before the police and the paramedics showed up, while D and I - and all the blood. There was so much blood, that night.” Cigarette between her teeth, her gaze fell to her empty hands. She flexed them slowly, like she could feel the hot red stain there, still. Then she took a deep breath and swallowed. Visibly yanked herself back from the edge.

“She never visited - I would have killed her if she tried. After he healed up, she started sniffing around again, so Fly burned her, and now nobody fucks with her at all. So you steer clear of her, too. She only turns up trouble.”

“Okay,” he said, faintly. He’d thought she was hot and smooth, before. Smoking a cigarette and looking like she wanted to swallow him whole. She got him knifed. He nearly died. Attraction withered and died, there, in the alley way. He didn’t fight it, and he didn’t grieve.

A few days later, when he was taking a breather around eleven, Rio turned up again. Mateo ducked back inside without greeting her and couldn’t help sticking close to the bar, close to Fly, after. Like she was going to follow him in to finish what she started, maybe. Like he needed to see Rico whole and well and flirting carelessly for tips. It made his chest ache to see it, and his teeth hurt from clenching his jaw.

But he was fine. It was fine. Rico was perfectly healthy and what he did for his job was none of Mateo’s business.

She was gone when Mateo followed Fly out into the back alley a while later, anxiously curling and uncurling his fists. Even when Fly grinned at him, shoving his sweat-dark hair out of his eyes, even when he ducked his head to chase the lighter’s flame, Mateo couldn’t relax, couldn’t stop jumping at shadows. The pinpricks of light reflected in Fly’s eyes like distant stars, and the fire kissed his cheeks and turned his eyelashes to gauzy spiderwebs, and he watched Mateo, honey-slow, with a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth and he—

He still couldn’t relax.

It was a long night.

#

The door slammed behind him, the loudest sound in the whole world. Mateo stumbled, then staggered, then the wall surged up under his hands and he managed to stay upright, thank God. He didn’t think his legs would hold if he fell and needed to get back up, just now.

The world spun in a wobbly, nauseating blur. Mateo shut his eyes and tried to breathe through it, though he felt his stomach churning and his throat twitching like he was gonna gag.

He swallowed, and shut his mouth tight, and breathed. He didn’t wanna throw up. Not right now and not outside The Cat, where Rico was inside with some guy with a shitty haircut and his pretty hands all over the guy, laughing into his shoulder as they moved to the electric beat. The only two people in the fucking world, apparently.

Some night off.

Tears threatened, and Mateo tried to swallow those too. He laid his hot cheek against the brick and scraped it, feeling the roughness catch on his skin. It distracted him, and it was cool, and everything was terrible but at least he had this wall right here.

“Shit,” he mumbled, a slow-dawning realization. “Shit, I’m hammered.“

Absolutely soaked, crowed the little voice in the back of his head that sounded like Rico at his happiest. It felt like getting stabbed right between his ribs, hearing that. It hurt, it hurt. Hurt like Raul telling him, gentle and so damn kind, ‘Maybe you should give this a rest, huh?’ because he had his answer and Rico didn’t want him, wouldn’t ever want him. Mateo’s breath punched out in a ragged sob and then he couldn’t stop. The dam shattered and the tears and hurt poured out.

He wiped at his face with both hands, like he had when he was just a kid tagging along at the grocery store and so worked up about something that there was snot and tears everywhere and too many eyes watching and Tiago was getting frustrated with him again—

“You okay, baby?”

Mateo wanted it to be Rico so bad. So bad it hurt, even. He wanted Rico’s warm eyes and pretty hands and husky voice, and his arm around Mateo’s shoulders like the only thing anchoring him to the earth. The heat of him, and the smell of his sandalwood-and-spice cologne, and his quicksilver grin. Mateo wanted him. But it was only some girl with a fox face. He sniffled at her, and felt her hand on his arm like an afterthought. She was looking at him like -

Like she wanted him.

God, he wanted to be wanted. Just a little. Just a bit.

“No,” he told her, drunk and honest.

She smiled with one side of her mouth, and wiped the tears off his cheeks with both thumbs. Her hands were cool and sure. He leaned into her, and her smile widened with a flash of teeth.

“Well,” she said, “let’s see if we can fix that, huh?”

And then they were kissing and the world dissolved into heat and want and relief like cool sweet water on a parched throat. She wanted him, and it was simple and it made heat bloom in the pit of his stomach. Her back hit the brick and her mouth opened under his and it was good, God, it was so good. She tasted like mint and whiskey and he chased the taste of it while her fingernails raked down his back.

She groaned against his cheek when he hitched one of her legs up over his hip, grinding in close. It made him wonder dizzily if he could do it. If he could hike up her other leg and have her right here against the wall in front of God or anybody. Her pulse pounded under his tongue, and she arched into his hands, and she was so fucking soft and she wanted him and he wanted—

“Mm,” she sighed, and her head lolled back, and he mouthed at her neck like something starved.  “Find us a room, baby.”

“Nn?” Words were too hard. He was too hard. He lifted his head when she pulled on his hair and fixed him with a black-eyed stare. All pupil. She licked her lower lip in a flash of pink, and he dipped to do the same, but her grip on his hair tightened in a stinging flash of heat. He bit back a moan.

“A room,” she repeated. “A motel or something.”

There was one a couple of blocks over. The Sunset Motel. But even a couple of blocks felt like too far, with her pressed so close.

“Alright,” he panted, and stamped a messy kiss across her mouth. “Alright. C’mon.”

The Sunset was close, but there was an apartment above The Cat that would be empty this time of night, with two of its occupants working and one with his hands all over some guy with a shitty haircut. Mateo led the way, knocking the loose brick out of the wall and scraping up his fingers to get at the spare key. The inside of the apartment was dark, and the floor vibrated in time with the music pounding below. The girl laughed, low and husky and hot, and they were kissing again, tripping over each other and the coffee-table. Mateo managed to kick the door shut behind them, and then it was a scramble – out of clothes, into the nearest bedroom – and then—

Things got a little hazy, then. Clarity came in little flashes: one cold hand against his navel while the other rolled a condom down his length, the flash of red hair against a grey pillowcase, the ragged noise she made when he pressed his fingers – his cock – inside her. The smell of musk and sweat and sandalwood that clung to the skin of her throat where he pressed his greedy mouth.

After, he must have slept, because he woke reaching for her. The whole process repeated itself – once, then twice. Her hands, her mouth, the hot clutch of her body. The fevered intensity of her stare on his face, her mouth gasping “baby, baby” until he had to turn his face away, into the pillow, the taste of blood in his mouth from his bitten lip.

And through it all, the warm smell of sandalwood and spice.

He was muzzy, half-asleep, content with her skin against his and her head on his chest when a flicker at the doorway caught his attention and—

Rico.

Rico with one hand going white on the doorknob, still as death, the other clenched into a fist with something in it. His left thumb twitched, working the spinning loop of his fidget-ring frantically. His eyes – his eyes were—

Mateo sat up all at once, mouth dry, tongue clumsy. The air was blood-hot against his bare skin when the sheets fell away.

“Fly,” he said, drunk and stupid. He sounded surprised. “Fly, I uh—”

He stumbled, tripped, babbled. The girl. The girl didn’t say anything at all. He turned to her, hoping maybe—

It hit him, then.

Fox face. Red hair. Dark eyes. A crooked kind of smirk.

“Hey, Fly,” purred Rio.

Mateo shut his mouth, feeling like he’d missed a step on the way down the stairs. The gravity of the situation seeped into his pickled brain. His stomach iced over and his lungs locked up.

“Rico,” he heard himself say. Rico still hadn’t moved. He was always moving – tapping his foot, pacing, spinning his fidget ring – but now he was still, all but his wild eyes.

“Get out,” said Rico.

“Rico,” Mateo pleaded.

He moved at last, and something hit Mateo in the face. Surprised, he sucked in a breath, and a the stink of what he’d done – smoke-liquor-sweat-perfume – washed over him. It was his shirt. He must have dropped it, before.

He was vaguely aware of Rio sliding out of bed – out of Rico’s bed, fuck – and gathering her clothes, unhurried and unbothered and smooth.

Numbly, Mateo put on his shirt. He found his jeans, and he shoes and – and he was walking out with Rio, past a dumbfounded Diego and a glaring Dett in the doorway. He walked away and expected to cry. He even wiped at his dry eyes, like muscle-memory. But no tears came.

With each step, a hole ripped open a little wider behind his ribs, black and sucking as a chest-wound. He breathed in shallow little sips, expecting pain.

Diego was the one to shut the door behind them. The slam of the deadbolt locking felt – horrifically final.

Mostly dressed in the pre-dawn gloom, Mateo couldn’t help but look around. His head felt foggy, sluggish, and his throat thick. The beginnings of a hangover, probably.

“What do I do now?” he wondered, and the words were flat.

Rio touched his arm, and he didn’t flinch away.

“We get breakfast,” she told him.

So they did.

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium 33

Ah, the angst. Oh, here it comes. There’ll probably  be some more smut. But for now? ANGST. Angsty angst. Ninety three followers. Slowly creeping towards 100. Never thought I would see the day. Honestly.

WARNING. Angsty as f*ck. 18 and over, Adult themes. Teh Secks.

I found a job in Thailand, and was negotiating a start date for right around the time he went back to filming. I just hadn't figured out how to actually make my exit. I did what came naturally to me in difficult times. I got out the heavy weight paper, and the good pens and started to write. " Look, love, I've got to go. Its for the best, really. No woman worth you will start dating you with me lurking around, peeking out from behind potted palms. And I KNOW you want a family. A traditional one. Like everyone else in your family. You are perfect husband material, and you're going to be the most doting dad that ever there was. I hope you have a daughter. She will wrap you around her finger like taffy. And enough boys for rugby, of course. You know I still want to be a part of your life, I just know that it may not be possible. I promise you will always know where to find me, and if you really need me, I will always have your six. Text me the phrase we agreed upon, and I will drop everything and be right at your side, as fast as I possibly can. Whenever, wherever. That's my word bond to you. While I draw breath, I am yours. But, Hen, you must understand I love you far too much to keep you from your dreams, or worse, to have you wake one day and see those beautiful eyes tinted with regret or resentment. I couldn't bear it. Find a woman who loves you for you. If you retired, and built ships in boats ( and how DO they do that, anyway?) She should love you just as much as if you were fifty feet tall in Times Square. Make sure she's self entertaining. If you get lost on a quest, she needs to be able to find her own things to do, that she loves, and you'd best encourage those things. Share her passions like I know she will want to share yours. Don't fall for that stalker shite, sugar. I know, I'm going to tease you about that till the Fourteenth of forever. That's funny. Never let your PR people pick your dates. Somebody who's rude to staff or servers or underlings NEVER EVER gets a second date. If KAL doesn't like her, run away, FAST. Find a woman who makes you laugh. And who loves sex and intimacy as much as you do, and make sure she understands that those are two separate things. There will come a time when sex will not be as spontaneous, when you've got to work at making time to be a couple, and not mummy and daddy. Never take each other for granted. Appreciation and honest kind words go so far. Harsh words cause the deepest wounds, tear open the oldest scars. Be gentle with each other. If you can, make her part of your team, and you of hers. Support her work enthusiastically. If you're not worlds away, show up for her things, and the kids things. Nothing is as adorable as the performances of small children, and before you know it, they won't want to spend any time with you..Always foster her independence. It gives her room to grow and she will never run out of ways to contribute. If you give her more than three babies in four years, GET THE WOMAN SOME HELP. And for everyone's sake a nice OLD lady, older than I am. There is no win in the mixture of post partum depression, struggling to get your figure back and some chippie in your house falling all over your husband and "stealing your children".  And that woman who comes to help? Her NDA better be tighter than a camel's ass in a sandstorm. I'm trying so hard to not forget anything. I know you and I know once you read this you're going to be quite cross with me and I won't hear from you for a while. You'll be licking your wounds, as will I.” I stepped out to smoke, it didn't help. This was going to be ugly crying. I blew my nose, splashed cold water on my face, and soldiered on. I picked up the pen, not even enjoying the feel of a good pen in my hand, unappreciative of its heft and balance, giving no fucks about the way it glided across the page. I might as well be writing in my own blood. “Cross with me. My talent for understatement, I suppose. You'll be furious. And I'm sorry. I know, its insulting and insufficient. But I am sorry. And you know I would use the fragments of my broken heart to mend yours, but I am not wizard enough to make this what it can never be. I meant what I said. If you need me, I will be there.  Be honest with her, about what part I play in your well being.... That at some point you may need to surrender your control. That even Daddies need Daddies. And for both your comfort and your honor,  I can promise not to annihilate your marriage vows while providing that for you. You CAN do what it is we do with out sex. It just isn’t as fun. I don't think now that you've opened Pandora's box that it will close easily. I believe the things you've found there resonate too deeply for you to just dismiss them. It is why you came looking in the first place, because you knew that those pieces were missing, there were voids to be filled. But remember, you can’t play these reindeer games with everyone. This can’t get out, can’t be public, so be careful.  I know your heart, I have the measure of you. I have no concerns that you'll be callous or unnecessarily cruel. You'll find that edge and ride it like some fucking prize stallion in a steeplechase, but you won't ever be abusive and there will always be love and passion behind what you do, its who you are. Thank you my dearest, for allowing me the opportunity to pass on my skills, and my knowledge. The people that taught me would be so pleased to meet you, to see your heart, your passion, your skill. Bless you for letting me tell you my stories. I know now that they will not disappear. You will never know how much of a gift that was for me, and I can never repay you. All my love in this life and the next..... And I signed it. I folded it and put it in the envelope, and started gathering my things. Time was running out. I sent a box or two back to the States, made arrangements for someone to look after my house, and researched flights. I could be in Bangkok in less than three days, and with a negative Covid test, no quarantine. Going back to work would get me out of my own head, and I knew, if I stayed there, in my head;  very bad things were in store for me. They had sent my visas, my work documentation, they emailed my offer letter, and had sent an open ended return ticket. Most of what I needed I could obtain when I got there, and the idea of having a custom tailored wardrobe was very appealing. Plus,  its a rainforest jungle. Shorts and t shirts, wraps, sandals, not much more than that, really. Maybe a swimsuit or two. With my vacation days I could see all the places on my bucket list and or do medical tourism. Its funny, to be gone for this long and have it not be that big of a deal, in a pandemic. No one was even looking for me. Now I needed to start working on the Long Goodbye. When he came home that evening I had dinner waiting.  Kal's dinner too. I wasn't fucking around. Soft lights, candles, that red wine he liked, I wasn't going to miss a trick. I was all put together, everything shaved, lotioned, make up that looked like I hadn't any make up. I mean, I can't do fresh faced anymore. During dinner we talked and I worked so hard not to lose it completely. I smiled and laughed in the appropriate places, held up my end of the conversation. At the conclusion of the meal I started to tidy up and he followed me into the kitchen. Music was playing and I was humming as I did the dishes. I didn't realize he was leaning against the doorway, watching me. He crossed the space in just a few steps, one arm at my waist and spun me around to face him. I squeaked, startled. He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss, took my hand and danced around the kitchen with me ...... Henry singing  in my ear "Ooooh, I been missing you And the way you make me feel inside What can I do? I can tell you’ve got your pride now, baby Come to me (oh well, oh well) Let me ease your mind (oh babe) I’ve got the remedy, yes I do Now give me just a little time (Here in my mind, Girl, I wanna shake you down) I wanna rock you down (I can give you all the lovin you need) I’m gonna love you (Come on let me take you down) Oh well or well (We’ll go all the way to heaven)* Gregory Abbott “ Shake You Down” I was pulled up tight against him, one of his legs in between mine as we slow danced,  my head on his shoulder, I was practically purring. Back in the day we called that cock dragging. He led magnificently, I didn't think about how clumsy I usually was or where my feet were going, he just guided me around the kitchen singing to me, dancing. I looked up at him, lost in those deep soulful eyes....

" You were three when this song came out" I laughed. " I have several older brothers and the music you love brings back great memories. " As the song ended he dipped me, practically to the floor, and I didn't panic. His strong arms had me I was secure and knew I wouldn't fall. Well, not from being dipped.He ran his tongue up my sternum, between my breasts, up my neck to finally claim my mouth.

@indigosaurus​ @fishcustardandclintbarton​ @tinareher​ @whyyoudothistomecavill​ @littlefreya​ @angryschnauzer​ @dancingwendigo​

@michellemybelles-world​ @geraltsbottomsbottom​

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Sick Little Games: Seven

B.C.

“Y/N I swear. If you ever do anything that blatantly stupid ever again,” Steve threatened as you sipped a cup of water.

“Yes, dad,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

Steve glared at you as Natasha muttered angry Russian expletives and you smile a little, “Look, I knew that it was incredibly unlikely I was going to die. It was just going to hurt. A lot. Still hurts actually.”

Natasha scowled as she tucked the blankets around you, “It was still stupid.”

“Oh,” you snort, wincing, “There’s no doubt about that. But It was effective and I had to act fast... That hell-hound had only been topside about 12 hours. And I almost couldn’t stop it... If I’d waited we would have been fucked. And it takes centuries for demons to marshal enough energy to build one up here... So. I’ll take the win.”

Thor was quiet, arms folded where he leaned on the wall. He was glad you were safe. That you were going to make a full recovery. But the image of you in a pool of black blood, bloodied and twitching still made his chest ache. “How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”  he asked softly. 

“Your less well-documented powers don’t exist in a vacuum, Thor,” you answer, “Terrified Christian monks who wrote down stories had to hear them from somewhere... I needed consecrated ground. Quickly. And to do that I needed to be able to conduct the energy and... I needed to be holding on to direct it where I needed it to go.” Thor moved closer to the bed and pats your cheek, “We thought we lost you for a second, witchling.”

“Nah,” you say, giving him a brave smile. It still felt like you might be dying. It certainly hurt that much. “I’m like a bad habit.”

“Thor isn’t Christian,” Steve said abruptly. 

You shrug, “The Christians don’t hold a monopoly on Holy... The definition is fairly flexible. Thor still has followers, thus where he works a miracle... and this fucking counts because I didn’t know if this was gonna work, there is holy ground.”

Steve frowned but nodded, taking a second to kiss the side of your head, “Still. If you ever do something that stupid ever again I’m gonna make Bucky do your training rounds with you.”

Thor chanced to glance at you and your face betrayed nothing. Only the same mild amusement it had a moment ago. And as for year heartbeat... well. It was still irregular and too fast. Your body on high alert after your Jolt. But a muscle in your throat pulsed just slightly. Just enough to tell him your prey instincts had kicked in, and if you could have done it, you’d be ready to bolt.

The Three of them left shortly after to give you some time to rest and Clint slipped in quietly. 

“Hey, Cupcake,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. Now that your eyes were open and you were sitting up he felt like it was okay. Before “okay” was a horribly abstract concept. 

“Hey, Hawk,” you say, smiling a little. “You okay?” Clint takes a second to look at you. Big luminous eyes and tangled chaotic hair. You look frail and pale... Nat had told him like a sick Victorian Child who wouldn’t make it to Spring. But fuck if you aren’t the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Now that I’m seeing you alive?” he said giving you a crooked smile and tucking himself sitting next to you, “I’m great. This might be the best day of my life... I thought you were a goner, babe.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, “There’ll be better days, Clint,” you tell him fondly. 

“Yeah,” he said, “The day they let you out of medical and you meet my dog.”

“YOU GOT A DOG?” you yelp, “Gimme, lemme see the puppy.” You make a sort of vague grabby hands gesture.

“He’s not a puppy. He’s a grumpy mutt I pulled out of an Alley... who then proceeded to steal my pizza and get shot.” he said, “And they told me he can’t be in here.”

“But witches need to commune with nature,” you pout, “And that,” you say pointing at the sad little potted plant in your window sill, “Is NOT nature. It’s plastic!”

Clint chuckles and rests his cheek on your head, “If I get in trouble I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t you usually?” you ask.

“Touche,” Clint conceded getting off the bed. He knew from the jump he couldn’t tell you no. He’d already told Lucky all about you. And as he padded his way into the room and made his way up to the bed, Clint had no regrets. 

Lucky wiggled his way into your arms and accepted all the kisses and cuddles and effusive compliments about what a pretty boy he was. And Clint watched, smiling a little. You glowed. Warmth and light. Compassion. You took in everyone’s flaws and loved them anyway. The way you didn’t think you deserved. And Clint knew. He knew. That he’d never be able to tell you “no” ever again. He also, when he had to half drag Lucky off your bed, was vaguely aware that his dog probably loved you more than him. And Clint had to admit that that was fair. You were definitely nicer to look at. 

____________________

A.C.

“Where’s Lucky,” you ask in the quiet on your porch.

“With Nat,” Clint answers smiling a little, “Plane rides freak him out.”

Clint watched the sun sink lower, burning up the atmosphere and turning the sky a flamingo pink. Stars were starting to sparkle on the horizon and the air was getting cooler. Crickets were singing and birds were calling out. It felt nice. Rocking you on the porch swing in the quiet. 

“So,” he asked teasing, “If you don’t have T.V. what do you do out here?”

“This,” you answer, gesturing vaguely. “There’s a pond out back for swimming and my closest neighbor is four miles away... I just. I mean I’m not a total animal. I do have Wifi. But sometimes I just... I can’t take being trapped in anymore.”

Clint makes a soft sound and pulls you closer, “So you wanted freedom.”

“And some time. Time to figure out my next move.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked, his voice so soft that you can hardly hear him.

“I don’t- I’m not- I shouldn’t.” you settle on finally, “We just got the team back in working order... and this. This is the only family I have. I really don’t want to be the one responsible for tearing it apart.”

Clint stops and looks down at you, tilting your chin up carefully, “Babe,” he murmurs, “You did nothing wrong. Not one thing. Barnes did all of this. You were quietly nursing a harmless little crush. And he exploited it. Exploited you.” When you look away, uncertain he sighs, “Look. If it were Nat what would you tell her?”

“Nat would have already killed him,” you point out.

Clint makes a soft exasperated sound, “Fine. Any other woman. Would this be their fault?”

“No but-” you trail off and Clint stops, stroking his thumb against your jaw.

“But what?” he presses.

“They aren’t me,” you say exhaling slowly. 

“What does that mean, baby girl,” he asks.

“I mean I could have influenced him. I could have cast a charm unintentionally and he could have reacted poorly and-”

Clint tries. He wants to hear how you’ve twisted this around in your head to make it all your fault. He wants to know so he can tear it apart. But he can’t. He can’t listen to you justify that level of manipulation. So he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss. The gentlest way he knows to stop you talking. To distract whatever anxious death spiral you’re about to go down to tell yourself that you did this and you deserve it all. 

It’s over before it really starts and Clint is pulling away about to apologize when you sit there blinking at him in shock. “Stop,” he says instead of apologizing. “I know you. You never do anything like that unintentionally. Hell. You never do anything unintentionally. You agonize about people’s feelings for hours before you send a risky text sometimes... Even if you did cast some spell on him, baby it’s the same one you cast on everyone. Just by being you. And being you doesn’t mean that that grumpy fuck gets to abuse you.”

When you start to cry, Clint pulls you into his lap wordlessly and just rocks you. “No one,” he murmurs, “deserves what people have done to you, babe. Not one person.” He doesn’t try to stop it. He just lets you sob, even though every racked stuttering breath makes his chest hurt. He’s seen you a mess before, but not like this. Not this shattered and jagged. This tortured. 

And for once, he doesn’t think a stupid joke and a cupcake is going to make it better. For once, he’s going to have to ride out the storm.

____________

B.C.

Girls' night in the compound meant a lot of things. Mostly, it meant that Tony was working Pepper’s last nerve and had enlisted every last woman she could find to throw a night out on his dime because he’d irritated her. 

But it also meant, of course, that the men in the compound had unexpected free time. Which was both a blessing and a curse as they all sat in the commons trying to decide what movies to watch and what pizza toppings to order. 

They were mid-argument when you came downstairs kitted out for the night. Complete with a corset, black leather skirt, fishnets, and combat boots. You look feral and sexy. Sleek. All smoke and sultry. And that skirt is riding temptingly high on your thigh. For just a half a second, Bucky can’t not stare. 

Until he realizes who you are. 

“You look-” Steve stops. Not sure what to say, looking flustered. You never show that amount of skin if you can help it. 

“Otherworldly and vaguely threatening?” Bruce supplies, as Thor nods in agreement. 

Sam whistles, “Damn,” he says, “Girl where’d you hide that outfit?”

Clint, standing next to Thor makes a sound that reminds the god irresistibly of a mouse being stepped on. The god is pretty sure the Archer stopped breathing when you stepped off the elevator.

“Nice “Come fuck me boots,” Tony observed drily.

“They were on sale,” you say, tossing a wild mane of curls over your shoulder.

When you drift out, Clint falls forward, face planting into the sofa, “Please. Please tell me that was real.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam chuckled, “That was real.”

“Fuck me.” he groaned, “That’s just rude.”

“Or not,” Bucky muttered, picking up his phone.

___________

When you hadn’t so much as looked at him, Bucky was irritated. Who the fuck were you to not pay attention to him. Well. He had a way to fix you. He had a way to remind you that he could destroy you. And he wanted to. 

How dare you act like he didn’t matter to you when he knew it wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t from the quiet way you still just... did things. The way he could hear your heart race in a quiet room. The way your eyes light up when he was even passingly civil. The innocence rankled. The sweetness. The fact that you got to stay the same while he was beaten into submission. 

It didn’t take long. Not for the next phase of his plan to take place. Models were in easy supply. Everyone wanted to fuck a hero. And when he started looking, women crawled out of the woodwork. Perfect. The perfect thing to trot out.

The first one had almost been accidental but after that... well after that, it was fun. The shock. The blushing. The scampering up the hall. The next morning knowing you’d skip breakfast to get your work out in. It felt right, ripping those pieces of innocence out from under you. Forcing you to stop in your tracks and deal with this reality instead of sprinkling glitter on it.

He loved every minute of snatching that out of your hands. But, he reflected, it felt like it was time for something... new. Of course, he came to this conclusion when you walked in on him fucking some blonde off of Tinder in the motor pool when you were going to get your jeep and you’d not looked nearly... startled, enough. He needed more, he decided. He just needed to figure out how to get it.

Tags: @lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: May You Always Be Satisfied

Ahhh, so.. This is the third part to these two asks [ here ] and [ here ] and after this, there’s at least one more part. We’re still moderately angsty here, folks. Maybe the last part will be better? Let’s all just like.. hope or some shit.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE. AND THE HELP IN REALIZING WHAT THIS IDEA COULD ACTUALLY ADD UP TO. HUGE HUGS FRIEND.

Tag Squad:

@kyleoreillysknee @rampagewriting @writertoo18 @thatnerdwriter @wrestlingismyguiltypleasure @chasingeverybreakingwave @unabashedwrestlefics @wardl0w @missjenniferb @adampage @cabotcoves @cowboyshit @dietwrestling

[ tag list doc ] [ masterlist ] [ keep ‘em coming - they’re super fun ]

“ I mean, he looks happy. That’s all I want for him. What was I supposed to do? Throw myself on the floor, grab his ankles and tearfully beg him to stay?” I half questioned, offering a shrug to my neighbor Cordelia as she poured us both more wine. The television set was stopped on AEW in the background and even though I know I should’ve changed the channel when I heard his theme hit, somehow I just.. Couldn’t.

It was the first time I’d seen him in a little over 3 months now. And seeing him slink down the ramp was like ripping a bandage off a healing wound only to have that bandage catch halfway and bring up scar tissue with it.

I may be fooling everyone else at this point. I may seem as if I’m doing fine but deep down? Completely the opposite. In reality, I’m a breath away from breaking down at any second. There’s just so much shit I haven’t really… Dealt with.

I’ve just been ignoring it. He made his choice. I didn’t try to fight harder. I just let him go because I didn’t want to settle for being someone’s silver. 

“You realize you’re not hiding just how bad you’re taking this, right?” Cordelia’s statement had me glancing at her as I shrugged and sipped the red wine in my glass. At first, I tried to argue back and insist I was, but instead, my shoulders dropped and I sighed. 

“It’s the only option I have. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who said things weren’t working between us.”

Cordelia eyed me and sipped her own wine, going quiet for a few minutes. Then she spoke up again. “Which totally does not track with the man I met at that barbecue he came to with you. He looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky and told the stars to shine. It just doesn’t make any sense, that’s all I’m saying.”

My fingers curled over the edge of the kitchen island between us and I finished off my glass, reaching across the island for the bottle. She held it out of my reach and eyed me. I pouted at her. 

“All I’m saying here, Veronica.. It’s entirely possible that that pushy asshole he’s friends with had something to do with this.”

“That makes no sense. Adam can think for himself.”

“But maybe he’s gotten so used to going along with what everyone else pushes him to think and do that he’s forgotten how. Maybe the guy said something and Adam took it to an extreme. C’mon, you’ve said yourself that you didn’t like the way the guy constantly tried to undermine and ignore Adam.”

“Yeah, well if that’s the case, then I can’t be with him either. So either way, this is still an unsolvable dilemma. I’m not going to settle for being someone’s second choice. And I’m not going to sit back quietly and watch someone I love let himself be held back by so called friends who think they know best, either. We’re at an impasse.” I frowned to myself and picked up the remote, turning off the television, which only earned me a pout from Cordelia.

“What?” I shrugged off her pout and took a few more  sips of my wine as I scrolled Instagram.

“I was watching that, ma’am. For my own scientific research.”

I snorted in laughter at what she said and looked up. “Does his name happen to be Wardlow?”

“ Hey, I can’t help it I have amazing taste.”

“Yeah, no. The verdict is still out there, Cordy.” I teased gently, sighing to myself as soon as I saw a post from Adam’s instagram story. I let myself linger on it a little bit. I tried to just.. Remain neutral.

But I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I closed out of the app hurriedly, plasting the best fake smile on that I could as I looked up at her. “Either way, I’m going to be fine. I’m handling it.”

“Woman, you are ignoring the hell out of this. You loved him. Now stop being stubborn and at least allow yourself to own up to that.”

“You’re not gonna charge me for the therapy session, right doc?” I joked and she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. 

“What I will do is insist that if you’re just hell bent on denying, you wipe your life of all traces that he was involved in it. Otherwise, you’re never going to not be miserable.”

“Already done. Do you see any pictures of us around here anymore?” I swept my arms wide, gesturing to my small apartment. Cordelia looked around and then shook her head, giving me one of her wise old lady looks. “You can get rid of the pictures, change the bedsheets, change your hair color and toss out all his old shirts he left behind… But you can’t make yourself forget him. Take it from me… You need to actually deal with this. And stop serial dating on Tinder. That’s where the serial killers all hide.”

“Bye, Cordie.” I chirped, laughing to myself as I shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a deep breath as my eyes wandered my apartment.

Okay, so maybe she’s right. Maybe I can’t totally forget him, but… I’m going to have to find some way to stop letting little moments of doubt where I want to reach out creep in. Because he ended things with me. He’s the one who couldn’t get over an ex girlfriend. I wasn’t ever going to be enough for him.

And yet, even as I stood there, thinking about it all, I still found myself wondering… What if I was completely wrong?

“I have got to just get over this.” I grumbled to myself as I made my way to bed, falling face first into it.

--

“You do realize that Matt’s just the kind of jackass who stirs shit up, right man?” Mox spoke up from beside me, sitting down the glass of bourbon he’d been nursing most of the night. I shrugged and sighed, barely managing to keep my jaw unclenched.

He wasn’t exactly telling me something I wasn’t aware of… Didn’t mean I fucking wanted to hear it. I knew Matt was stirring the pot when he told me he’d run into Veronica again. The sumbitch was full on shit eating grin as he told me that he heard it going around that she’s been on a different date every night for the past few weeks now. 

And damn it, despite trying my best not to let it get in my head, it got in my head and it got in deep.

“He really told ya girl about the ex?” Mox shook his head, letting out a low whistle as he followed up, “What’d he say?”

“Probably what I let slip about wondering if I was still in love with her.”

“Goddamn. Page, you’re too fuckin nice for your own good. If it were me?” Mox pointed to himself and took a sip from the glass, “I’d have beaten his ass all over the place.”

“ Why bother? He had a point and he wasn’t lyin. I honestly thought I might be in love with my ex at the time. She’d come back, she was callin and texting me all the time again. Got me thinkin about how much we did go through together… Missin her a little.”

“And now, dumb fucker?”

I glared at him before answering. “Now I just feel empty. And it hurts like hell because she didn’t even put up a fight when I broke things off between us. Hell, I’m disgusted with myself now, actually. I let everybody else dictate what I did with my own life… Again.”

“Yeah, that’s a habit of yours, man. Not a good one either. What you gotta do is say fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all. If you wanna fix this? It’s on you to fix. She shouldn’t have had to beg ya not to end things. If ya even thought for a second ya were about to fuck up, maybe ya shouldn’t have ended shit.” Mox grumbled, glancing up at the MMA fight we’d been watching on the tv. “But no. No, ya really had to go and let Omega and Jackson’s bitch asses dictate your move. Play into their hands.”

“This isn’t helpin, Mox.”

“You said you wanted to be around honest people, man. I’m bein honest. You’re a fuckin idiot, okay? And if you think it’s over, you’re an even bigger one. Because man,” he chuckled and took a longer sip. “If you really want her back? You gotta make it happen. Stop sittin around and whinin, holy shit. Step the fuck up and prove her wrong.” 

I eyed him, waiting on him to explain.

“She probably thinks ya never gonna love her like ya did that ex. And the longer ya sit here, drownin it in alcohol, the more she’s gonna believe she’s right on that. Nobody likes feelin second best, man. Does it fuckin feel good when Jackson and Omega do that shit to you?”

“Fuck no.” I answered, beginning to see where Mox was going with this rollercoaster of a pep talk.

The wheels were turning in my mind.

“Then don’t fuckin let it happen with her. If you think you’re feelin bad right now, try imaginin how she feels, man.” Mox finished off his drink and rose from the stool, nodding. “Gonna go out for a smoke. You.. Think about what I fucking said. Got it, man?”

And think about it, I did.

I know by now, no thanks to Matt, that whoever she was with that day I did go to her and try to make this right… They’re not a thing anymore. So, maybe…

Maybe it’s not too late.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Every year, on the anniversary of Will’s disappearance, Joyce clings.

She clings and coddles and hugs and kisses and worries and dreads and attempts to mask her utter fear with smiles that don’t reach her eyes.

It’s always a sweet attempt. It never quite works.

After that first anniversary, where the Anniversary Effect turned into a Very Real Nightmare of, once again, fighting monsters and fearing for their lives, Will hasn’t been let outside on November 6th. There’s been no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He is locked inside of the house in the nicest, kindest, gentlest way possible.

Billy doesn’t know this.

So the first November 6th that they spend as a family, in 1985 after Hop has married Joyce and they’re all living together in the same house, Billy asks Will if he wants to go out and grab some dinner so that no one has to cook. He’s just trying to bring the energy up in the house, honestly. All day people have been keeping the energy stale at best. Joyce kept Will home from school even though he doesn’t look sick. Her face is pale, along with Jonathan’s, and Hop hasn’t done much more than grunt and rub Will’s shoulder when he passes by the boy. Billy’s not sure if he even went to work. El has been attached to Will’s hip, scrunching her nose up in a smile at him whenever he makes eye contact with her.

It’s just been weird and Will has looked like a goddamn prisoner all day and really, all Billy wants to do is get Will some fresh air and bring the mood up. He can’t handle it feeling this way. He feels like he’s out of the loop over here.

Will, from his place hunched on the couch, looks over to Joyce. Billy looks too when he sees it, only to find Joyce giving a scared and nervous look accompanied by a small shake of her head.

Will sighs softly. Billy’s surprised he hears it.

“Uh… no. I shou- I can’t.”

It doesn’t make any sense to Billy.

Like, seriously doesn’t make any sense to him. The boy is 14 and barely ever steps a toe out of line. He wasn’t asking him to go party on a school night, he was just wondering if they wanted to go pick up some burgers or a pizza or even some Chinese food god something.

Billy’s eyes furrow.

“Seriously? It’ll take like 2 seconds. I mean-” Billy pauses, rephrases. He knows Will can’t stand how fast Billy drives, so he has to slow it down for him. “Really like 20 minutes. But-”

“Billy, can I talk to you?” Jonathan asks with a hand pulling on Billy’s arm before he can even respond. He’s yanked out of the room against his own accord, allowing it just out of sheer confusion and curiosity.

“What?” Billy asks pointedly to a very tired looking Jonathan. Which is saying something, because Jonathan always looks like a truck just did a number on him.

“Do you know what day it is?” He whispers conspiratorially.

Billy blinks.

“Uhhhh… yeah? Tuesday?”

Jonathan takes a heavy breath, looking away for a second.

“It’s the… It’s…”

Billy watches the boy fumble with fleeting patience.

“It’s…..? What? Some weird fucking holiday? ‘No Burgers’ day? ‘Will Can’t Go Outside’ day?”

Jonathan sighs. “I mean… sort of.”

Billy’s eyebrows furrow.

“To which one, dummy?”

Jonathan sighs again. He’s getting on Billy’s last nerve.

“It’s the anniversary of Will’s disappearance.”

Billy freezes. Looks over to the living room as if he can see Will sitting on the couch from here. He can see his little socked feet swinging around against the floor.

“Uhh… oh.”

“Yeah. 2 years ago.” Jonathan’s got his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looks for all the world like a nervous child. Billy doesn’t know how to feel.

“And he has to stay inside… because?”

“Mom gets nervous about him going out.”

“I mean, I get it but-”

“C’mon, Billy. Don’t stir the pot.”

Billy rolls his eyes, like he doesn’t feel an immense pressure in his chest from this. From all of it. From what he can only imagine it must feel like to have that hanging over your head. Always in your mind. Always in the back corner of your thoughts whispering and feeding and gnawing like a parasite.

Remember the monsters?

Billy remembers them. Remembers the cold and the intense heat and the looming fear that never left. Never rested. Never loosened its hold.

But…

“Fine. Then I’ll just go get food for everyone by myself.” Billys says, walking out into the living room to grab his keys and go pick up a pizza.

And so every year, even after Billy and Jonathan have gone away to college, they come back for the anniversary. Joyce insists they don’t have to, even though it’s clear in her eyes and voice that she’d very much appreciate it. Jonathan insists that they do have to, and reiterates to Billy how important it is for all of them that they all come by.

“I know John-boy, you’ve told me a billion times. I’ll make it.”

“Why do you still insist on calling me John-boy?”

“Because you insist on making it fun for me.” Billy says before hanging up the phone.

And so they go to visit. They all sit around and watch reruns of TV shows. They play board games.

It’s weird. The vibe is still so off. And Billy hates to look at Will because he looks so sullen. So pale and afraid and nervous of the walls of his house. Like something’s going to break through, to crawl out, to grab for him. Joyce spends all day near Hopper. It’s the one day Billy has ever seen her smoke a cigarette. Hop still tries to keep away from them, but he joins her out on the porch anyway, if only for a little bit. He always comes back inside fairly quickly so he can keep an eye on the door or something.

But now it’s 1988 and Will is 17 and the fear and the tremors of everyone’s body is gone. Jonathan and Billy come by to visit just because it’s what they do. No one clings to each other or jumps at sounds or shivers like it’s cold in their house even under blankets.

But Will still doesn’t go outside.

And it drives Billy crazy.

So he stands in Will’s doorway, looking at the boy laying across his bed, reading some nerdy book Billy would probably enjoy if he took the time to sit down and read it.

“Hey, pipsqueak-” His eternal name for Will, no matter the fact that he’s 17 now and reaching Billy’s height. “Wanna go grab some ice cream?”

Will doesn’t even look up from his book.

“It’s cold out.” is all he says, flipping the page. His foot starts to shake absently.

Billy rolls his eyes. “Alright, smartass, wanna grab some lunch?”

“I don’t have any money.” Will lies through his fucking teeth. The kid always has money, Billy knows it.

“I’d pay for you, kid. You know that.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Billy sits in his hip, tired and irritated.

“Alright fine. Wanna take a walk.”

“Not really.”

“And why not?”

Will looks up like Billy’s stupid. Billy’s just grateful to see him look up.

“It’s cold out.”

“I’ll wrap you up in every sweater you own, come on.” Billy says in his Big Brother Voice that he’s been using for years now. He grins a bit to see it still works on the younger boy, who’s eyes widen a bit with worry and whose face flushes a tad in nervousness.

“Why?”

“Because sitting around like a fucking vegetable isn’t healthy for you, c’mon. We can grab a cookie or something at the bakery on that corner let’s just do something. No one will miss us.”

It’s true. Everyone’s off doing their own thing. Jonathan is hanging out with Nancy in his room, who accompanied him on his visit. El is with Max outside, playing around on their own skateboards (Max got El one for Christmas last year). Hop and Joyce are cuddled up on the couch, watching reruns and laughing gently. Steve came along with Billy on the trip, but he was forced into a very long afternoon with Dustin and his mother. (Forced in the kindest way, obviously. The woman loves him and he loves their little family right back. She’s always knitting him sweaters and stuff.)

“I… I dunno…” Will says timidly. Billy crosses his arms.

“C’mon, what could you possibly have to do that’s more fun than hanging out with me?”

“Lots of things.” Will says through a crack in his voice.

Billy just doesn’t believe this shit, though. He lets the pause hang in the air, making his disbelief known.

“... what, did you get a boyfriend that you didn’t tell me about?”

That does it. Will’s face is beet red in a matter of seconds, his book falling loosely in his grip because suddenly other matters are a lot more pressing.

“...! Wha- uh! Don’t say that!”

Billy cackles. “Seriously, did you?”

“Cut it out!”

“If you don’t come with me on a walk, I’m gonna have to assume that you’ve got a boy hidden somewhere in your room.”

“Billy, cut it out.”

Billy pauses, shit eating grin consuming his face.

“He’s in your closet, isn’t he?”

“Billy!”

But Billy isn’t listening and Will isn’t moving from his spot on the bed, so Billy saunters up to Will’s closet with a mention of: “If it’s that Wheeler kid I swear he’s dead meat.”

“Billy shut up!” Will whines, book slammed shut and tossed onto his bed as he moves onto his knees to get off the bed and, presumably, go after Billy.

Billy swings the closet open to find-

Lots of clothes. No boys.

“Billy. I don’t have a boy in my closet.” Will seethes, which only makes Billy cackle more.

“And how was I supposed to know that? You got a new hair cut, maybe you turned into a real casanova.” Billy reaches a hand out to muss up Will’s new hairdo. Will swipes at Billy’s hands weakly. “Okay, get your jacket, lets go.”

Will whines lowly.

“It’s cold out.” He mutters, turning around to go on a search for a jacket.

“Get your thickest jacket and let’s go.”

So in a few minutes they’re saying goodbye to everyone, who only give Will farewells with the smallest of worry in them, and they set out through the trees and towards town.

It’s quiet. The space between them is nippy, but not too cold to breathe. Billy’s eyeing Will every now and then. His shoulders are so high his neck probably aches, his eyes are shifty but always make it back to the ground.

He’s growing into a handsome boy, and is still the same sweet kid Billy’s always known. It sucks to see him be so afraid of everything. He shouldn’t have to feel afraid in a place he’s always called home. Billy knows what it’s like to be afraid of home. Will doesn’t deserve that, not even for a second. There are so many gross, shitty kids in this town that don’t have the same kind of weight on their shoulders; don’t have to be worried about the same of the kind of memories that Will has. It’s not fair.

Will’s mouth starts moving like he wants to say something, but no words come out. Billy saves him.

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” He says, tilting his head up to the sky and watching the patchy gray clouds hover. There’s some kind of relieved sound that comes from Will’s small being. “It’s just…”

Billy sighs. He lets the cloud of his breath dissipate before he speaks again.

“It’s better to do anything. Anything but sit there and think about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it.” Will’s voice is small. Unconvincing.

“The more you sit around, the more you’re gonna think about it.”

Will doesn’t have a response to that, so Billy looks over at him. Sees his pensive face that falls into something like acceptance. Knowing.

Billy nudges Will’s shoulder with his arm.

“Trust me, pipsqueak. I know.”

Will gives a small smile. Insists he’s not a pipsqueak anymore. Billy insists he’ll always be one.

And they walk. They head to that little bakery Billy mentioned. They talk about boys and crushes, and Will’s face is red throughout the entire conversation. They talk about Billy and Steve. They talk about what life is like outside of Hawkins and how “You’re gonna love it, kid. I swear. You’re gonna love it.”

And Billy sees it on Will’s face. Sees Will relax. Sees Will melt into himself, even just a little bit, and finally believes that the boy will be able to move past this horrible feeling. This horrible anniversary effect. Sees Will and finally believes that he’s ready to move on.

[vios-rockland-corner]

Life in Rockland 2

[Life in Rockland is a creative writing project utilizing a specific OC in place of the MC for the “Rumors of Rockland” series.  I do not own any part of the Rockland universe, only my OC.  Fair warning, creative writing is not my forte.  This is a means of practice and a fun way to enjoy the content further].

Sasha’s in a much better mood than a few hours ago.  As she settles in for the night though, she’s faced with a small predicament that grows into a much deeper pondering about the day’s events.

Setting: After game events

Play: Rumors of Rockland- Article 2

[Spoilers below for RoR Article 2]

Sasha’s Choices:

[Get Help]

[I get the impression people can get away with a lot around here]

“Speaking”

Thinking

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

The sound of tapping filled the room.

Sasha wasn’t typing, just lightly tapping on the top of her laptop while sitting at her desk.

I would have called or texted him by now.  Well I mean it’s late, won’t hurt if it’s not today.  God I wanted to talk about everything though, but…

She sighed and pushed her laptop to the side.  She shifted her chair over to the other side of the desk and reached over to pull a small pot close to her.  

“Hello Hydra~ You’re always a good listener.  Mind hearing me out?  I got a little problem.  It’s supposed to be good to talk to your plants anyway,” she chuckled.

It was a small venus flytrap.  Nothing extravagant, but she loved the bright green stalks and red mouths.  All wide open with the exception of one.

“Oh look at that. Looks like you already found yourself some dinner.  You’re the best bug repellent a girl could ask for.”

She gently petted the closed mouth.

“So see, this town is definitely small.  Pierce wasn’t kidding about running into people again.  I just didn’t expect THIS kind of situation to happen so soon.”

“So let’s run over the details again.  I told Pierce there was a raging alcoholic last time I went to this place.  He said dude was probably being emotional and just blowing smoke, but I should probably keep my distance from wild cards like him anyway.  Yet I ended up having a pretty good time with Avery and Callum tonight.  So I’d like to say bad first impression that led to a misunderstanding and all’s good now.  At least…that’s what I’d LIKE to say.”

Sasha sighed.

Fuck I feel awful even having these thoughts after Avery and Callum were nice enough to get me more familiar with people.

“It’s the middle part that’s killing me a bit here.  I guess I just kind of pushed it to the back of my brain while settling down in the bar.”

“Okay first of all, I don’t regret my actions.  I would hate myself if I hadn’t done SOMETHING.  Callum’s such a sweet guy, and I really feel like he was about to get beaten up.  No offense to him, but he doesn’t exactly look like a fighter.  It was also 2-on-1 anyway.  God, what if they would have killed him out of prejudice?!  Am I overreacting? Maybe, but I don’t know.”  

“But hey, it’s not like I would have made the odds any better if I had joined in myself.  I don’t really have any fighting skills, and something tells me two grown men aren’t going to be that intimidated by 5’4” woman. Not to mention, I don’t sound intimidating at all.  If I had at least SOMEONE else with me, maybe…did that once with Pierce.”

Sasha started reminiscing.

“There actually was one time where Pierce and I came across someone being hassled near a bar.  But Pierce and I approached pretending to be the dude’s friends.  We just made our voices VERY loud about how were happy to see the guy and then said something along the lines of ‘Dude come on, you’re so late.  Everyone’s been waiting, stop holding things up.’  Think we were pretending to be in a hurry.  Pierce literally just cut by the jerks, grabbed the guy’s arm and we just all walked together to the bar while continuing our conversation about our very made up plans.  I was dead afraid those guys were going to jump us from behind, but it never happened. The dude we pulled out of there was definitely grateful.  I thought it was cool, but Pierce told me later that method won’t always work for everyone.  We just got lucky that the guys we came across were the type that didn’t like attention being drawn to their shitty attitudes.  Pierce said some people won’t give a damn though about who sees their nasty side.  So with that in mind and the fact I can’t really act as smoothly as Pierce can anyway…yeah no way I could have jumped in to help Callum without backup.”

That’s a VERY different approach than the one Avery took too…

“Look I don’t know why I didn’t think to just call the police.  I either wasn’t thinking, or I just thought they’d blow me off for it just being drunken bar nonsense that wasn’t even happening in the establishment.”

Now it doesn’t sound like people call the cops much anyway in Rockland.

“I didn’t know Whesker wasn’t there.  I just saw Avery and well…things turned out okay.  But how was I supposed to know he was going to nearly beat the two drunks to death tonight.  It’s not like I care for garbage like that, I just think personally playing executioner to some folks without attempting to even dissolve the situation peacefully first is just…”  Sasha groaned.

“Okay, calm down Sasha. Maybe you’re just overexaggerating the situation.  Just because you heard…bones cracking, doesn’t necessarily mean he would have gone all the way, right?  People can sometimes just be fragile.”  

He said he wanted to snap someone’s neck last week.  He’s not all bark and no bite.

“Fuck, stop Sasha!” She muttered to herself and placed her head in her hands.

“Avery was protecting his friend.  The drunks were homophobic and might have hurt Callum.  Maybe they would have even killed him!  Not like they didn’t earn at least a punch in the face.  Callum’s safe now, and both Avery and Callum treated me so well tonight.  Why the hell am I being so judgmental?”

Because I almost watched two men get murdered in front of me?

“Ridiculous.”

Sounded like stuff like this happens under the radar a lot.

Sasha got up from her desk and heading towards the bathroom. She turned the sink on and started splashing water on her face.  She took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror.

“Hey, you’re new. Feeling a little jittery is all. You’ve never really known much anywhere other than your own home for most of your life.  It’s a lot of new experiences at once.  …Why the hell am I talking in second person?”

Sasha left the bathroom and sat back in front of Hydra again.

“I’m the new person here. Everyone else has been here for a long time.  I’m more like a guest or intruder at this point.  Sounds like things will only go south for me if I get too nosy or mess with the wrong people.  When have EITHER of those ever been a problem for me?  Hell, I never even drank underage.  Pierce calls me too boring at times too,”  She chuckled.

“Worst crime I feel like I’ve ever done is jaywalking.  And yeah, I know if there’s ever trouble, I’m the type to go to the proper authorities for help.  Whether it was work, school or town life.  But I’m an adult, and if this place is more of a ‘you take care of your own business’ type of deal, I need to respect that and take responsibility for myself.  MOST of the people I’ve come across have been nothing but friendly towards me.  Maybe I need to stop jumping to conclusions. There’s no way that I’m going to be scared off back home by stuff like this.”

I won’t lie, it’ll hurt my pride a little if I move back home just because I didn’t try to fit in.

“Well I’m not sure if I’m being open minded here or too lenient out of naivety.  I AM sure that Pierce would raise an eyebrow though. There’s no way I could explain away how I knew to call out to Avery in the bar.  I didn’t say his name last week, but he’ll remember the alcoholic I mentioned.  Now if this was in our town, Pierce would probably make some kind of weird joke about this.  But I think…he wouldn’t admit it but I think he’s been a little anxious lately that he’s not here with me to watch my back.”

She pet one of Hydra’s heads.

“When we’re together, he likes to poke fun at me and take me to my places that sometimes aren’t in my comfort zone.  But that’s only if he’s confident enough himself that he can get us out of a tight bind we might get into.  He never took to me to anyplace extremely dangerous or introduced me to people he didn’t trust.  He doesn’t know anyone in Rockland.  I’m sure telling him how the possible alcoholic can possibly beat people to death would put him on edge.  Especially since I’ve run into Avery twice now.  Pierce would be nervous about that proximity.”

So I’m fighting between relying on my hometown friend’s judgement and giving new people a chance.  Not to mention putting my own judgement skills to the test here.

Sasha leaned back and hummed to herself.

“So here’s the story. Callum was getting hassled in the alleyway.  I called out to his friend from last week who was having a bad time.  Out of necessity of course.  He came and knocked the drunks away and then Callum, Avery and I had a good time going over the different citizens in town.  There we go.  Short and simple.  Not even a lie.  Why was I even overthinking all this?  If Pierce presses, I’ll just say Avery can look scary.  Dude IS pretty tall too, probably can stare off a lot of people with just a glare.”

Definitely believe he’s not to be messed with.

“I missed the VERY beginning when Avery entered the alleyway anyway.  Callum may have sounded chipper, but who’s to say Avery hadn’t spotted one of the dudes trying to pull a knife or something.  If you’re gonna beat a knife and two guys with just fists, you BETTER act fast.”

Sasha nodded to herself.

“Everything’s fine.  Even the drunks at the end of the day will recover. Hopefully learned a lesson and become better people, but that’s up to them.”

She looked at the clock. It really WAS late.  Sasha stretched her arms and headed over to the closet, looking for some nightwear to change into.

“…but seriously, who the hell is Kinley?”

[layce2015]

John Wick (John Wick x Reader)

Chapter 2: Attacked & Captured

(A/N: Dialogue in Italics is translation from Russian.)

Chapter 1

You were sound asleep when you felt something wet hit you in the face. You groan and scrunched up your face as you slowly open your eyes and see Daisy had jumped on the bed, licking your face. "Okay...okay." you whispered then she jumps over your shoulder. You, being on your right side, look over your shoulder and see that she had jumped over to John, and started licking his face to wake him up.

"I'm up. I'm up..." John groans as he starts to wake up and the alarm goes off. You couldn't help but giggle at this as he reaches over and shuts the alarm. You sit up in the bed then Daisy jumps on your lap then she begins to pant and wag her tail. "Alright, c'mon." You said to the little beagle as you pet the top of her head. You turn to John, who was getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed, then you scoot over to him and lean your chin on his shoulder then wrap your arms around his shoulder. He takes one of your hands in his and kissed your hand. You go and kiss his cheek then he turns his head and both of you share a gentle kiss. You hug him, tightly, before you get out of bed, Daisy taking off like a rocket out of the room.

You went the kitchen and started a pot of coffee while John went to get the morning paper. But just as he opens the door, Daisy takes off outside. "Hey!" He calls out to her but saw that she went out into the yard and started to squat. "Oh. Right." He mutters. "Everything okay?" You called out. "Yeah, fine. She...uh...just had to use the..." John replied as he picks up the paper. "Oh! I gotcha." You said as Daisy runs back to him as the two of them come back inside.

Daisy walks up to you as John comes over and sets the paper down on the counter, and she begins to whine. "What?" John asked Daisy as she looks up at you and you look down at her. "She's probably hungry." You said then both you and John started to look around the kitchen for some type of food for her. All you guys really had was cereal, this made you sigh. "Guess we're gonna have to make a trip to the store." You said to John as he pulls out the cereal box then prepares three bowls of cereal. Then puts one down for Daisy and she instantly started eating it up. You let out a small chuckle at this as you take your bowl from John and the two of you started to eat breakfast.

After eating and getting ready for the day, John grabs his keys to the Mustang and the two of you head to the garage, Daisy trailing behind you guys. Once in the garage, John opens the Mustang's passenger door for you and you get inside. But before he could close it, Daisy runs in and jumps up on your lap. "Well, hey there." You whispered then looked up at John and nodded. He goes and shuts the door then makes his way to the driver's side and gets in.

He looks over at you as you were petting the dog, a genuine smile on your face. He reaches over to Daisy and petted her head then starts the car and heads off.

****

After running some errands, John stops at a gas station and starts to put gas in the car. Daisy props herself to the window and looks out just as another car, that was blasting loud rap music, pulls up. You watched the car and rolled your eyes at this as three guys come out of the car. Then they started to speak to each other in another language, you think it was Russian, and one of them starts to pump gas in the car while the second guy goes into the station and the third guy, who was wearing a hoodie and smoking a cigarette, was yelling something at him.

The young man in the hoodie, Iosef, looks over at the Mustang and walks over. Immediately, you felt uncomfortable as he walks up to John. "Nice ride." Iosef compliments. "Mustang. Boss 429. She a '70?" Iosef asked John as he taps the hood of the car. "'69." John replied as he finishes pumping the gas. "Huh. Beautiful car." Iosef said, impressed. "Thanks." John said as he goes over to the driver's door. Iosef pats the hood then asked. "How much?" John looks at him, confused, while you bite your lips, nervously. "Excuse me?" John asked him. "How much for the car?" Iosef asked. "She's not for sale." John said as he gets inside the car and Iosef leans in the passenger window and sees you. "Well, hey there, pretty lady." Iosef greeted you and you give an uncomfortable look towards him. This guy was looking at you, hungrily.

You know the type of look...when a man sees a beautiful woman and he is on a mission to get with her by the end of the night. Yeah, that look. You knew that look all too well. Before you met John, you had gone to a few bars and there were a few instances when a man would come up to you with that same look in his eyes. Even back then, you never liked that look. That look made you feel like you were the prey and he was the hunter.

"Uh...hi." you said, uncertain whether you should've answered or not. "You know..." Iosef said then he leans in and, in a hushed tone, he whispered something to your ear. John couldn't hear what he said, but can see that you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat from what is being said to you. "I'm gonna need you to step away from my wife." John threatened and Iosef looks over at John and glares at him. "I'm just kidding around. Aren't I, sweetheart?" Iosef asked you and you narrow your eyes at him then you give a scared look to John, who was still glaring at Iosef.

Then Daisy jumps up and catches Iosef's attention. "Oh, I love dogs." He said as he pets Daisy then he looks at John. "Everything's got a price, bitch." Iosef said in Russian then he laughs. "Not this bitch." John replied back to him to Russian. Iosef looks at him in shock. "What the fu--" Iosef said and he starts to get up and away from the car as his friend comes up to him. "Who does this guy think he is?" He shouts as he walks away and heads towards his car.

You looked over at John as he starts the car. Then Iosef'a friend leans into the window and smiles. "You have good day, sir and madam." His friend said and you pull Daisy closer to you as you started to feel unsettled. The man pats the windowsill of the car and John begins to drive off. "You alright?" John asked you as you two get closer to the house. "Yeah...I'm fine." You said as you petted Daisy's head, who was looking up at you then let out a whimper. "(Y/n), what did he say to you?" He asked and you looked away towards the window then let out a sigh. "If it's okay with you, John, I don't want to talk about it. I don't need you to get into trouble just to hunt this guy down for saying some inappropriate things." You said and he gives a quick glance at you and you give a reassuring smile. "It's okay, John." You said and he nods then looks back at the road.

****

That night, you two were getting ready for bed. Both of you got under the covers when you looked over and see Daisy laying in her little makeshift bed. You give a small frown to her then you looked over at John and said. "Just this once." 

He stares at you for a moment then looks over at Daisy. "All right, come on, then." He said and Daisy runs and jumps on the bed with you two and both of you started to pet her. "How you doin'?" John asked Daisy as she lays on his chest and you started to run your hand over her back. "Good girl." You whispered then you lean your head on his shoulders.

He places an arm around you and kissed the top of your head. You raise your head up to face him then both of you kissed each other. "I love you." John said, softly, and you smiled. "I love you too." You said then both of you start to fall asleep.

****

Hours later, Daisy started barking then she started to run off of the bed. You and John wake up at this and look over to see she ran to the door. "You need to go?" You asked Daisy as she keeps barking. "I'll take her." John said as he gets up out of bed. "You sure?" You asked him. "Yeah..." He said as he gets out of the bed then turns to you, leans down to you and gives you a gentle kiss. You kissed back then laid your head back on the pillow as John takes her downstairs.

He makes his way downstairs as Daisy continues to bark but as he gets to the last step, he sees two figures standing in his living room. He was about to say something when he was hit upside the head with a bat as the third guy comes up behind him. John falls down as the light to the living room comes on and one of the masked men comes up and kicks him. John yells out in pain as the man with the bat comes up and hits him with it. 

You sat up in your bed as you heard the thuds and the sounds of your husband in pain. Instantly, something told you that something was wrong. You jump out of bed and run to the closet then pulled out a bat of your own as you heard John let out another painful yell and Daisy whining. "J-John?!" You called out as you hold up the bat and walk out of the room.

"Where are those fucking car keys?" One of the men asked in Russian. Then the other guy started smashing stuff, which made Daisy whimper and cry. "John?!" Your voice called out louder and the three masked men look towards the voice. "Get her! Get the girl!" One of the men ordered and his buddy goes up the stairs looking for you.

John tried to call out but he was still a bit dazed from the hit on the back of his head, all he could do was listen. His blood turned cold when he heard you scream in fear but he could hear you fighting back.

After calling out to John again and hearing Daisy crying, you make your way around the corner, towards the stairs, to see a tall masked man standing there. You screamed then swung your bat at him, which you did make contact as he exclaimed out in pain. You go to swing at him again but he grabs the bat and yanks it out of your hand. Then he goes and grabs you but you try to fight back, you took some self-defense classes and you tried to use them but this man was much stronger and he was able to grab you.

"Let me go!" You shouted at the man as he starts to bring you downstairs. "John!" You yelled in fear as the man brought you to the living room and you could see John on the ground, alive, you could see blood coming out of his nose and that he was trying to get up. "John!" You screamed as Daisy continued to cry out.

"Shut that fucking dog up!" One of the men asked and one of the men goes up to Daisy as she tries to run. "No, no, no, no! You leave her alone!" You shouted but the man grabs her and slams her so hard down on the ground, that she stops crying and moving. "NO!" You cried out, tears pouring down your face, as John tries to get up but the third guy kicks him over so that he was on his back.

"Find the keys." The leader, you assumed, ordered and the second guy looks around while the third guy still had a grip on you. The second guy goes to the bowl and pulls out the keys and starts to laugh. "Here. I found them." he said and the two men go over to John and one of them grabs him by the hair, and pulls his head up to look at him. The man pulls his mask down, revealing him to be Iosef. "Sleep tight, bitch." Iosef said and he punches John right in the face.

Before John blacks out, he heard you screaming in fear. "John! John! No! Let me go! You bastards! John!" You screamed and he saw the men dragging you away then he blacks out.

When he wakes up again, he sees Daisy's dead body in front of him. He gasped then places his hand on her before he let out a shaky breath. Eventually, he sits up and cradles Daisy and hugs her. That's when he noticed something on the floor. He reaches over and picks up the item and realized that it was your bracelet he gave you for your birthday. It must've falling off of your wrist when those assholes dragged you away.

He holds the bracelet in his hands then closes his fingers around it, his hand shaking in anger, then he looks down at Daisy's dead body and an anger, he hadn't felt in a long time, boiled within him.

****

As the sun was rising, John had already put Daisy in a box and had finished digging a grave for her in the yard. He put her in then began to bury her. Back inside the house, he began to wash the blood off of the floor but last night's events played through his mind and it just made him angrier. The last thing that was playing through his head was you being dragged away and your screams filled his ears. 

Now they've done it!

*****

Meanwhile, Iosef and his buddies were driving the Mustang to this building. You were sitting in the backseat of the car, your hands tied up and a cloth was wrapped around your mouth. You looked around at the men as they pulled up to this building and Iosef honks the horn. The doors to the building open and he drives in to what looked like a car garage shop.

Iosef parks the car then he and one of the men get out as the third man starts to drag you out of the car. Iosef and his friend talk to each other, in Russian, then they share a laugh as they walk over to the owner. "Yo, Aurelio!" Iosef yells and Aurelio turns and his eyes widen when he sees the scene before him. "Ah? I want a new VIN number and some clean papers." Iosef ordered as Aurelio walks up to him.

"Where'd you get that car?" He asked Iosef, angrily, as he places his hands on his hips then he looks over at you and sees the fear in your eyes. "And who's the woman?"

****

Back at John's house, he goes to the garage to see that those Russian assholes had smashed the windshield and slashed the tires of the second car. He let's out a sigh then changes clothes and heads out.

Later, he took the bus and ends up at Aurelio's car shop and enters inside. Aurelio was standing by, waiting for him. "Is it here?" John asked him as they sit down and Aurelio pours a drink fro them. "It was." Aurelio replied.

****

*Flashback*

"I asked you where the hell did you get it? And who is this woman?" Aurelio asked Iosef. "Who gives a shit?" One of Iosef's friend said as they glare ar Aurelio. You stood there and stared at Aurelio, you couldn't talk because of the cloth but you pleaded to him with your eyes. As if to say Help me! 

****

*Present Day*

"Iosef Tarasov nicked it." Aurelio informed John. "Viggo's son." John mutters. "Yeah." Aurelio said and John looks away for a moment then looks back at his friend. "And my wife?" He asked and Aurelio looks at him. "She's alive." He assured John, who sighs with relief. That was good, at least he kept you alive...for now.

****

*Flashback*

"All right, get out of here. Just leave the young lady here and get out of my shop. Get out right now." Aurelio told Iosef then he starts to walk away. "Did you just lose your shit, Aurelio? Because we own you." Iosef shouted at him. Aurelio stops then turns to Iosef. "What did you say? What did you say to me?" He asked Iosef. "We own you." Iosef said, firmly.

"You don't own me, punk. I work with your father, all right? The owner of that car, did you kill him or what?" Aurelio asked Iosef. "No. I sure as hell fucked up his dog. And kidnapped his wife." Iosef boasts, nodding towards you, and Aurelio's widen as he looks over at you and could see tears in your eyes.

"You fucked up his dog and kidnapped his wife? That's what you did? You fucked up his dog and stole his wife?" Aurelio asked and Iosef started to laugh. "Yeah..."

"That's crazy shit, man." Aurelio fakes laugh then punches Iosef across the face. You let out a muffled scream when the second guy pulls a gun out an aims it at Aurelio. "Aw, look at you. That's great. You're gonna come into my shop and you're gonna pull a gun on me. Ah, that's great, man." He said then he grabs the gun aimed at his head and holds it to his head.

"Come on! Now, either you kill me right now or you get the fuck outta my shop!" Aurelio threatened and the man that was holding you by your arm, reaches out to the second man and lowered his friend's gun. "Viggo is not gonna like this." The man said, threateningly.

"How do you know what Viggo likes or doesn't like? I'll tell you somethin' he's gonna understand." Aurelio said then he looks at you for a moment. "You've got a fuckin' pair on you, old man! I guess we'll be takin' our business someplace else." Iosef yells at him and he gestures for his men to follow him and they start to leave, dragging you behind.

"Leave the girl here!" Aurelio ordered and they looked at him and Iosef laughs. "No, I don't think so." Iosef said. "I'm tellin' you! You don't leave the girl, it's not gonna end well for you. Since you didn't kill her husband, he will come!" Aurelio warned. "Well...tell him, she's mine now." Iosef said and you look towards Aurelio and tried to shout for help but the men dragged you away and pushed you into the car.

****

*Present Day*

"I'm gonna tell ya, John. I've never seen a girl look more terrified than her." Aurelio said to John, who clenches his jaw in anger. "So what are you gonna do?" Aurelio asked him. John looks at him, takes the drink Aurelio poured for him then downs it. "I need a ride." John replied and minutes later, John drove off in a new car.

****

"Aurelio speaking." Aurelio replied after his phone rang, later that day. "I heard you struck my son." Viggo said. "Yes sir, I did." Aurelio admitted. "And may I ask why?" Viggo asked, angrily. "Yeah. Well, because he kidnapped John Wick's wife and stole his car, sir. And, uh, killed his dog." Aurelio replied. "Oh." Viggo said, simply, before he hangs up.

Chapter 3

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

On The Street Where You Live, Part 3

Last part guys. After this I will try and work on the main story. Hope you enjoyed this crazy AU!

***

Patience stared at the bathroom wall, tears welling in her eyes.

Her period always came like clockwork, every second of the month. It was the fourteenth, and she was late. This morning she had woken up nausea so severe she vomited in the toilet. And the nausea had struck again in gym class.

Someone rapped irritably on the bathroom door. "Are you done in there?"

"NO!" She burst out. 

She heaved silent sobs, burying her face in her hands. There was graffiti on the bottom of the door. EVAN AND BETH FOREVER surrounded by a heart.

She wondered who Evan and Beth were. They were probably a happy couple, waiting to graduate and marry. He would probably have a good job, and her parents would like him, not like Patience and Salvatore.

She pressed the heels of her wrists into her eyes and let her sobs overwhelm her.

***

It was a bright afternoom at the butcher shop, and for once, the only thing that was being chopped there was meat. A black-haired young man was taking inventory when the front door jangled and he looked up.

As soon as Salvatore saw who it was, he appeared frustrated. "What the hell are you doing here, Leo Angelino?"

The boy looked about as out-of-place in the butcher shop as a lion would on a Kansas farm, with his uniform and carefully coiffed hair. "I am not frequenting your lovely establishment for the charming array of services you offer. I am here to speak to a certain person, that person being you."

"You coulda just said 'I'm here to talk to you.'"

"Yes, but then I wouldn't be able to see the charming look on your face as you attempted to the decipher the big words in my speech."

"What the fuck do you want?"

He put his elbows on the counter and leaned forward until his nose nearly touched Salvatore's. "I hear you're dating Richard Winslow's daughter."

Salvatore looked disgrunted. "Well, I was for a while. Don't know where she's gotten to as of late."

Leonardo toyed with the edge of the frayed paper menu. "I think, for the good of you both, you should stop seeing her."

"That ain't none of business, you god damn faggot. What do you care?"

"Just look at you. You already have a criminal record, you work a dead-end job, you have no prospects. You're just a hooligan from the wrong side of the tracks."

He leaned closer, and Salvatore stood his ground, but his fists were clenched and trembling.

"She deserves so much better than you and you know it. That's probably why she's not seeing you anymore. She realized that you're no good, Salvatore. It would be best if you simply... moved on."

"SHUT UP!" 

He pushed Leonardo backwards. "If you ain't buying, you got no reason to be here. If you don't get out right now I'm gonna throw you out."

Leonardo held up his hands, backing away, but kept that irritating smile on his face. When the door swung shut, Salvatore turned and punched the wall, his fist crumpling the cheap wood.

His father barked at him to get back to work, and he did so slowly.

***

Leo was there. He was always there. She wanted to punch him as soon as he looked over at her and smiled.

"Patience honey, welcome home. There's a sandwich in the fridge for your lunch. I'm making pot roast tonight." Marilyn crossed one leg over the other, and Patience noted she wasn't wearing pantyhose. "Can you take the clothes out of the drier?" She flipped her hair ostentatiously, eyes on the young blond man beside her.

Tormented by her thoughts, she trudged down the basement. Her mind was whirring, caught in a circle like a broken toy, and she didn't notice someone enter in after her until the door clicked shut.

She whirled around. "What are you doing here?" Her blood pressure spiked as she recognized the golden-haired menace that had ruined her life.

 "Just here to help with laundry. I'm always around the house, so it's just natural that I help with chores."

The basement was really more of closet. There was enough room for a washer and dryer and that was about it. So he and Patience were stuck very close, so close they could not help but touch as they unloaded the drier. His hand skimmed her breasts, bottom and back, all under the pretense of accidence.

"Stop it!" She snapped. "Just--just hold the basket!"

After she was done loading the clothes, she turned to the door, he held it shut with his arm. He stood there, face an inch from her own, staring intently. He cocked it. "Patience."

For some reason she was afraid, even though he had no way of telling, that he had found out about her pregnancy. He's going to blackmail me. Just another way he has power over me.

"Why don't you like me?"

She started. It sounded like an honest question. Maybe it was. "Because you're sleeping with my mom and making her run around on my dad."

"Hmm. Well, maybe that can change." Leonardo hoped on top of the washing machine, staring down at her. "You really want me to stop fooling with your mother?"

"Yes, I do! Just leave her alone! Leave my whole family alone!"

"Well. Maybe we can come to an agreement." He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "How about this. I stop with your mother... and you take her place."

She stood frozen, teeth gritted and body made of stone. "I--" and for a moment she thought, then Mom and Dad will stay together. I'm pregnant, he can't do anything to me like he was threatening to. Maybe just--just to keep him away from Mommy--

He took her by the arm and pulled her forward. "My father is very rich. I'm going to Yale next year. I'm an even an Altar Boy at The Church of the Holy Virgin

That boyfriend of yours is no-good and you know. I can buy you anything you want, get you a house, take you to Europe."

He sounded like he was giving her more of a sales pitch than asking her to be his lover. She studied him closely, at his fine, delicate features, his high cheekbones and arched nose and long eyelashes. Could she wake up beside him? 

She just focused on his features, trying to ignore everything else about the boy, all her memories of the way he had slammed her against the wall and forced his way into her, about how her mommy looked at him with adoring eyes, on the disgusting words he had whispered in her ears that fateful night, and just focused on those blue, blue eyes.

He leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away, and cupped her face. When his mouth was a fraction away from hers, and his breath was spilling over her lips, she yanked away, her gorge rising. 

"Get lost, Borghese. I'm never going to be your girl," she snarled resentfully, her bitterness taking over as she carried the basket of laundry out of the basement.

***

"Well, hey there, Pat. Haven't seen you around lately."

Jack Salandra was sitting outside the butcher shop in a folding chair, smoking a cigarette.

"Do you know where Salvatore is?"

"He's in the back talking to someone."

"I need to speak with him."

"He's busy. You should come back in an hour, I think he'll be closing up."

"No. You don't understand. I REALLY need to speak with him."

Something in her trembling voice gave him pause, and he put out his cigarette and stood up. "Give me a minute."

Soon after, Sal emerged, looking livid. His butcher's apron was stained with blood. "What the fuck is your problem? First we go to the prom together. Then you ghost me for a whole month, leaving me wondering what the hell happened to you. And now you're showing up at my door begging to talk to me?"

She swallowed hard and looked down the street. "It's... it's really, really important. Is there somewhere where we can be alone?"

He led her to an alleyway behind the butcher shop, occupied only by a dumpster where she assumed spoiled meat was dumped because of the smell.

She took a deep breath, skin prickling, and when she spoke the words, the shocked silence was so loud it buzzed in her ears.

"I'm pregnant."

Salvatore's face settled into a blank look of shock. His eyes were so wide around his black iris that it was ringed by white.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yeah. My mom had the same symptoms when she was pregnant with me. And it's--the timeline adds up. I know... it's yours, Salvatore."

Salva slowly sank to the ground, shaking. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Vaffanculo..." and he began to sob.

Him crying make her start to cry too, but she lashed back. "What are you crying for? You're not the one who's pregnant!"

He wiped his tears off with his bloody apron.

Patience felt the weight of despair crush her, a woman barely into her teens and saddled with the child of the last person she'd want to be pregnant by. How could she finish high school now? What would her parents say? Did she have to get married? She didn't want to marry Salvatore. She wanted to go to college and be a police officer like her father. How could she do that with a child, and married to someone she'd more likely arrest than not? He smoked. He skipped school. He hit her. That 'bad boy' image he gave off that had so charmed her at first now alienated her, disgusted her. How could she marry someone like that? 

Life was going too fast for her. She wanted this to be a nightmare she would wake up from.

"What are we gonna do, Salvatore?" 

"I gotta tell my mom. Fuck, she's gonna kill me. It's all over. You better tell your parents too."

The thought of introducing Sal as the father of her child made her feel sick. She often hated how long the walk back to her house from the butcher shop was, but this time, she wished it were longer. Every step she took was weighted down by concrete blocks.

When her two-story green townhome came in sight, her heart began to pound. When she pulled the door open, she saw her father in a sweater, reading the news, and her mom watching television.

When her father saw her, he got up to hug her. She hugged her father, inhaling his familiar smell. She never wanted to let go. 

"I'm sorry I've been away for so long, baby. Work's been rough. But the Chief is giving me some time off this week. What do you say you, your mom and I do something this weekend? Go to an amusement park? See a movie?"

Oh, daddy. If only you knew.

"That sounds good, Daddy." She kept the sob out of her voice, but it welled up again as she sat down beside her dad to watch TV. Harry Truman was giving a speech. Every single word out of his mouth might as well have been gibberish.

"Honey, have you been crying?" Mommy looked up. She was in her favorite dress, the red gingham one. Patience remembered her wearing it a lot as a child. Her apron was smeared, like she had just been cooking.

 "Are you all right? Did Mr. Oleson yell at you again? Tell your mommy."

"No." She wiped her eyes. "I--I--I need to, talk, to you. About something?"

"What is it, junebug?" Daddy looked down at her, worry knitting his brow. His green eyes, just like hers, were filled with concern as more tears streaked down her face.

"I'm--" her voice caught in her throat like a stone. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, all she heard was Harry Truman's voice crackling through the speakers.

Then two things happened.

Her father leaped up and started shouting, and her mother began to sob.

"You're fifteen years old! You are fifteen years old! How did you let this happen?"

"No, no, oh god, please no, Patience--"

"How could you ruin your life like this? You were going to college! You're on the honor roll! How, how could you be so--" Richard was shouting, red in the face, and he took her by her shoulders and shook her.

"How did it happen? Who did it? How old is he? Was he your teacher?" Mommy was still crying, but she got her questions rapid-fire.

"No," she managed to get out between sobs. "I-It wasn't. He--was--he's in my high school. He works at the butcher shop around the corner, the one on Franklin Lane. He--his name is S-Salvatore Mallozzi."

The room went silent again, the calm before a storm, and then the storm crashed down.

"SALVATORE MALLOZZI? I arrested that boy for assault and theft! He spat in my face! You're telling me that you let him--"  Richard was shaking hard, and Patience wondered whether he would collapse. He was gripping her shoulders so hard they erupted in pain.

Mommy had lapsed into crying again, except this time, more desperately. When she spoke again, her voice was a scream. She slapped her errant daughter so hard her face exploded with pain. "Why are you acting the whore? Where's your common sense? I thought you would have learned from your Aunt Minnie! A dago? Why did you let some FUCKING Italian--"

"You're one to talk!" She shouted back, holding her aching cheek. Her fury and agony was bursting, making her lash out. "What with you and Leonardo!"

The moment she let those words leave her lips, she regretted it more than anything in her life.

Her daddy loosened her arms, slowly, and turned to his wife. "Marilyn," he said, his voice sapped of emotion.

Mommy looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I was going to tell you," she whispered.

He sat down, shaken and pale. "Why?" He asked simply. "Why Silvio's son?"

"You were never here," she said. "He was. He told me I was beautiful. He--" she stopped and looked away. "I know I can't explain it to you. I know nothing I can say would explain it. But it's so lonely without you."

Richard said nothing, but buried his face in his hands. 

Patience sat, frozen, aware distantly of her  life crumbling around her. She felt like she was floating above the room, looking down at a bunch of strangers.

"Richard," Mommy said, "I'm leaving you. And I'm taking Patience."

This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

Richard walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid. He chugged his first few swallows straight from the bottle. Then he took a crystal glass and poured a generous amount in it.

Harry Truman was talking about the Soviet Union.

The three sat in absolute silence, the only sound the clinks of Daddy's glass and the occasional sniff of Mommy's.

How much time had passed, she did not know, but Daddy finally drained his glass and sat up before making his way purposefully to the door.

Patience jumped. "Daddy, where are you going?"

He did not answer, but she had a forboding feeling she knew, so she followed him out of the door.

Richard took step after step, and although he was staggering drunk, his mind was laser-focused on one thing. He ignored his daughter's pleas as he headed for the one place Patience feared--the butcher shop.

As soon as it came within sight she seized his arm, but he shook her off like a fly. One hundred and fifty pounds of Massachusetts rage bulled his way into the butcher shop.

Salvatore was sitting at a table, holding an icepack to his cheek. Opposite him was Malone, and a smattering of other undesirables. Richard marched up to the table and decked Salvatore.

The crack was louder than anything in the room, and Salvatore was flung backwards onto the floor. Richard was shouting drunkenly, drowning out the pleas of Malone.

"Winslow! Calm yourself! The boy's mother is crying in the next room!"

"YOU FUCKING DIRTY CRIMINAL WOPS--"

"Winslow! Winslow! The boy has agreed to marry the girl, there nothing to be upset about!"

"As if I would let my daughter marry one of you people! Patience is fifteen! I have my handcuffs here and I am arresting him and taking him to jail! I'm putting him away on statutory rape charges!"

Salvatore had scrambled back on his hands and knees and had his back against the wall, trembling with blood pouring down his face. Malone was in front of him, blocking him from Richard's wrath.

"Daddy," Patience pleaded, hanging onto him. "Please stop this, let's talk, please stop yelling--"

He shook her off, knocking her a few steps back. "My daughter," he snarled. "Is not marrying that boy. She is going to an unwed mother's home, and when the baby is adopted, she is coming back and she is finishing her education. Put the god damn handcuffs on!"

He lunged forward, and Malone pulled a bat out from behind the counter. They clashed with the thud of wood on skin.

Patience sat there, sobbing quietly as her father fought fiercely, throwing punches and shouts against weapons.

And as the other people in the butcher shop closed in, she didn't want to see her daddy beaten within an inch of his life, so she backed out of the butcher shop, her shoulders against the glass.

She ran home, the sky waning on her and the sky beginning to warm with orange on the horizon. Each thudding step she took jolted her to her brain.

The home she saw looked alien now--it held no comfort for her. When she pushed in, heaving her breaths, her mommy was on the phone. She heard the word Leo.

When she came inside, her mommy put down the phone and looked up. She opened her mouth to say something, but said nothing.

Patience stood there silently. 

Surveying the wreckage of her life and the ways it would go from now on, she made the wisest decision of her short life.

***

Patience shoved handfuls of her clothes into her suitcase, breaths trembling and frantic. She stopped by her parents' room and swept the emergency money in the bedside drawer into her suitcase.

She clicked the suitcase shut and ran downstairs, her shoes thudding on the steps. Her mother met her in the living roo, saw her suitcase, and she panicked. "Where are you going, Patience?"

"Away. I'm going away, mommy, I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back."

Marilyn seized her daughter's arm. "Don't do this, Patience! Don't do this! Please, come with me, don't leave me alone!"

"Why'd you do it, Mommy?" All Patience wanted to do was bury her face in her mother's skirt and cry. She wanted to be a little girl again, when her parents loved each other and her.

"You don't know what it's like. You know your daddy is never here. I had to raise you by myself. You think he's the hero? You know why he's gone so often? So he doesn't have to deal with the responsibility. I'm lonely, Patience. And I've been alone ever since I had you. I'm fed up with it."

"But why did it have to be him?"

Her mother said nothing, but there were tears in her eyes too, and an enormous unsaid weight between them.

Patience looked at the face that was so like hers, the tiny nose, the heart-shaped face, the pink lips. 

"I love you, Mommy. But you made your choice. And I can't stay here. I will not live with that man. I'm not going to an unwed mother's home. And I'm not marrying Salvatore, either."

She pushed past her mother, into the road, and chose a direction and started running, away from a broken home she would never return to.

***

Patience walked down the highway, thumb sticking out. Car after car passed her until a rattling sedan with a loose license plate slowed down. "Are you looking for a lift?" Called the driver.

The car was in such bad shape she almost refused, but the sun was going down and she needed a ride before nightfall. "Sure."

She put her suitcase in the backseat and hopped in the front seat. As soon as she slamed the door, the sedan was rattling off down the highway.

The driver was a young man in an ill-fitting gray suit and tie. He had slicked-back blond hair that was graying along the temples, despite his youth. "Where are you headed?" 

"Just outside of town. What about you?"

He laughed bitterly. "Garland City Courthouse. I'm divorcing my wife. You know what the real ironic thing is? I'm actually an attorney. A public defender. But because I don't know jack about divorce proceedings, I had to hire my own. And I really can't afford to spend the money."

The car coughed, like it was agreeing with him. "I'm sorry to hear that. Why did you split up?"

"Because she's not satisfied with the money I make. She always wants new fur coats, new pearls, new nights on the town. Women are never satisfied. It's always something with them."

Patience had a distinct feeling that that was only half the story, but did not pursue it.

"I understand. My parents are leaving each other, too."

"Is that why you're out here all alone?"

She looked ahead as rain began to speckle the windshield. "Yeah. Well, that, and--" she thought of Salvatore, and the baby, and instinctively cupped her stomach. "Other reasons."

"You should go back. I bet they're worried stiff. If my son disappeared on me, I'd lose my mind. Of course, he's only two, so there's not a lot of places he could go."

Patience thought of her mother, lost, staying up nights worrying desperately about her daughter. About her father, coming back to an empty home without his wife and daughter. She rubbed her eyes. I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry, Daddy.

I guess I was just too much of a coward to deal with this. So I ran away instead.

Then she thought of Salvatore, of what he would think, how he would wonder what happened to his child. Would he wonder? Or would he just be glad he didn't have deal with the trouble anymore?

The night was beginning to fall, turning the sky blue-black. Patience spotted a bus stop through the shield of rain, right besside the sign stating Robichaux National Forest. "Drop me off here. I'll catch a bus."

The man slowed down. She hopped out and took her briefcase.

The man propped up his elbow on the steering wheel. "Which way are you headed, kid?"

She shielded her eyes against the rain. The trees towered above her like black, watching sentinels.

"California," she said. "Yeah. California sounds good." Somewhere far, far away, as far as she could get. "Thanks a lot, mister. I never got your name."

"Charlie Sawyer." He shook her hand. "And you?"

On the spur of a moment, she chose a false name, one that, considering who she was talking to, spared her a lot of suffering. "Beth Evans."

"Well, Beth. Best of luck to you."

"Thanks. Best of luck to you too, Charlie."

Patience watched his blinking tail lights vanish into the darkness, and sat down in the sanctuary of the bus stop, waiting for the rain to stop.

She slid her hand underneath her shirt and held it there, as if she could feel the heartbeat of her unborn child.

It's just you and me now, baby. Just us, in this big bad world.

The rain poured down harder, as if it would never stop.

THE END