#they could only convince him to use it when neil told him it was already broken <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[exycourtbesties]

happy belated slutty kevin day halloween 🐑 🐑

/// one of my favorite drawings from 2022 <3 exy’s princess baby boy + his boys <3

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 31

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Eventually, his grandma convinced him that he did not have to send a horse head to Ichirou Moriyama with his regrets. “He said if you’re ever looking for work my little Rotisserie, it’s going to be okay.” She had promised.

FF chooses to believe his grandma.

He’s found a lot of his mental stability is built up on just believing what his grandma has told him to soothe him, it helps that she’s usually right.

He takes some deep breathes, shoves down his embarrassment that he was seconds away from crying in front of Andrew, Captain Neil, and Nicky if Nicky hadn’t dragged the other two out. He really needed to thank Nicky.

“I can finish eating the soup Grandma, it’s really good. What was Kevin trying to do to it?” He asks taking the container his grandma brought the soup in and remembering what Nicky had said as he had gotten Captain Neil and Andrew out of the room.

“That boy is very handsome, very smart, and somehow does not have a bit of common sense.” His Grandma says with a fond laugh, “He wanted to put protein powder into your soup to help you heal faster.” She says.

FF had seen Kevin put protein powder in weirder things. What would be so bad about that?

“It was Vanilla flavored Protein powder my little Chicken.” She says reading the question off of his face and in his silence.

“Chicken and waffles exists as a flavor combination” he says not seeing what would have been so bad about it.

“Sweetie, you can’t have anything other than clear liquids right now. The doctor said so.” She says with a sigh.

He nods, that makes sense.

His grandma sighs and looks upwards.

“We need to talk to the Doctors about when you can get out of here. I think being back in a hospital is too hard on you.” She reaches up and brushes back his hair thumb starting at his eyebrow and tracing back to his ear. FF knows it’s not very noticeable otherwise his step brothers would have used the scar to torment him like how they brought up his slightly chipped ear. Still, he keeps his bangs long just so he never has to see the scar in the mirror, knowing his eyes will always search it out.

“It’s hard to sleep when it’s quiet.” He admits.

“I know.” She says. “Are you okay for people to come back in? I’ll take Nicky to act as my translator to go speak with the hospital or I can go with that nice coach of yours since he already knows I speak English.” She offers.

“Can…can you take Coach Wymack?” He asks because he really feels like he needs Nicky if his Gran is going off.

“Of course my little Chicken.” She rises up, takes the empty soup container from his hands, and kisses his forehead before she smoothes his bangs back down. “If you want I can just have Nicky come in and the rest can stay out.” She offers.

“No, just…maybe ask Nicky to come in first?” FF asks, he doesn’t want to be rude. They’re here to see him, it was just a lot and he wants to thank Nicky for giving him the time he needed to calm back down.

“Of course, such a sweet young man. His fiancé is lucky!” She says with a smile.

“Erik is a very lucky guy.” FF agrees managing to return the smile his grandma offered him.

“Ok, I’ll send Nicky in and take your Coach to go see about getting you discharged.” She says leaving out the door.

“Thank you.” He says into the now empty room before leaning against the pillows of his bed and looking around his room again.

His eyes narrow on the flowers Nicky had brought.

Pink Tulips, Yellow Sunflowers all in a Blue vase.

One does not become maintain a close friendship with Nicky Hemmick without hearing extensively about how he feels about newly adopted Pride Flags.

“Why did Nicky get me Pan Pride colors?” He asks if only to fill the silence.

***

Nicky couldn’t help but pace a bit. Somehow waiting for FF to calm down enough that he could take visitors again was a lot worse than waiting for him to wake up from being stabbed. He shouldn’t have let Andrew or Neil start in on his friend, he knows the two of them are scared but Nicky is the only one who can actually understand how scared FF would be.

His sweet little Rotisserie Chicken (He’s claiming it as his own, he’s in love, Aras is a laugh riot) would absolutely be spiraling in anxiety. The others are talking amongst themselves but Nicky isn’t feeling particularly chatty at the moment.

There’s a sound and Nicky’s head snaps up to see Aras coming out of FF’s hospital room. Her face giving away some of her exhaustion but she brightens the moment she sees him. It’s a nice thing, having someone her age being so happy to see him. “He wants to see you. I want to speak with Coach Wymack so he can help me work on getting our Chicken discharged, can you translate for me?” She asks in Polish slowly for his benefit.

Nicky stops.

“He wants to see me?” He asks, “Just me?” He adds wanting to make sure he was understanding her.

She nods, “He will let the others in after, but right now? You’re the only friendly face he wants to see.” She says, “Who could blame him when it’s such a handsome one!”  She reaches up and pats his cheek affectionately.

Nicky can’t help the smile that fills his face.

He almost wants to turn around and be smug about it with everyone. The last two additions to their family were far closer with Andrew and Aaron, but FF was his.

A friend that would pick Nicky over his cousins.

“Of course, I’ll help you talk to Wymack.” He says and offers his elbow to Aras who laughs and calls him a gentleman as the two of them walk over to where the rest of the Monsters and Wymack were waiting.

“Is Smiths ready for company again?” Aaron asks rising to his feet.

“He only wants to see me right now.” Okay yes, Nicky is going to gloat a little. He feels pretty good when both Neil and Andrew’s faces tighten just a smidge. “Coach, Aras wants you to come with her to see about getting Smithy discharged?” He says before a thought occurs to him, “Wait, won’t I need to be there to explain it to Aras?” He asks with a frown.

Wymack coughs.

“We’ll be fine. I’ll get the information and you or Smith can explain it to Aras afterwards if need be.” Wymack waves away Nicky’s concern. “Go sit with the kid.” Wymack says.

Nicky looks at Aras, “Will you be okay without me to translate?” He says not wanting to make the decision without her.

“We’ll make do.” She promises with a smile, “Look after our little Rotisserie Chicken, will you?” She asks.

Nicky nods before looking to Wymack, “At least offer the lady your elbow Wymack! You’re escorting a LADY!” He exclaims and Wymack rolls his eyes but tellingly does offer his elbow for Aras to take.

“A gentleman coach!” Aras laughs.

“I’ll go with them, I want to hear what might need to be done for Smiths.” Kevin says rising up from the plastic chair he’d been sat in. “Aaron do you want to come too?” He asks.

“I think I’ve suffered enough today.” Aaron says and Nicky wonders what the car ride over was like for his cousin to sound that tired.

Kevin tilts his head obviously not understanding what Aaron was talking about but before Aaron could open his mouth and turn it into an argument Nicky intervened, “Kevin, be a gentleman and offer Aras your elbow.” Nicky insists.

Kevin spluttered his cheeks going a little red.

“Coach already is escorting her!” He squawks.

“Do you think one man is enough for a woman of Aras’ caliber?” He asks seriously.

Kevin looks embarrassed but, sure enough, offers his elbow to Aras as well.

She takes it, “Two handsome gentlemen. What a treat. Now this one just needs to keep his mouth closed and he’d be perfect.” She looks up at Kevin with a smile.

Kevin, as he has since Aras arrived, just smiles back at Aras’ warm tone looking very much like a pleased golden retriever.

Nicky turns to head towards the door, “He doesn’t want to see us?” Neil asks and Nicky stops.

Neil looks uncomfortable and Andrew has the line on his forehead that he’s experiencing an emotion he isn’t comfortable with.

Nicky is a man with grace.

“I think he might just want to make sure this isn’t going to be Interrogation 2: Electric Boogaloo. I’ll promise that NO ONE,” he points a finger at each of the younger men, “is going to do that. Right?” He asks.

Aaron nods, Andrew gives off an aura of agreeing, and Neil opens his mouth, “We won’t.” He promises.

Nicky nods, “I’ll come get you guys in just a bit.” He says and heads for FF’s room.

Nicky finds FF sat up in his bed with tear marks under his eyes and feels his heart twist at the sight.

FF looks at him with a baffled look on his face, “You think I’m Pan?” He asks.

Nicky can’t help his laugh.

“I gotta cover my bases!” He says and fully steps into the room.

“I don’t even know if I like anyone like that!” He squawks, a flush rising to his cheeks and this is why Nicky has to control his laughter whenever someone says that FF seems like a chill guy.

“That’s why I was covering ALL of them!” Nicky teases unable to stop the laughter that bubbles up from his voice as he takes a seat next to his friend, “You feeling better? That must have been scary with Ichirou.” He says gently.

FF looks at Nicky, “It was.” He says, “I just…I hope I didn’t upset him in any way and make things hard for Captain Neil.” He looks at Nicky who is already shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about that. He seemed,” Nicky thinks back to Ichirou’s expression as he called FF ‘bright’, “pleased. Did he say anything to you about like a deal with Neil?” He asks.

“Not really, I just…he offered a reward and I told him to give it to Captain Neil. I can’t imagine how he was handling those kind of men being after him. I thought he deserved it more than I do.” FF says expression worried, “You really think it’s okay not to worry?” He asks.

Nicky could just eat him up.

He knows FF’s family aside from his grandma is a complete write off, maybe Erik and him could discuss adoption.

FF’s his anyways.

“Yeah, you did great Smithy. Don’t you worry about a thing other than what Kevin might be trying to sneak into your food.” He pats FF’s cheek.

“Yeah, it’s too early for protein powder is what Gran said.” FF nods as if it being too early in his recovery for the vanilla protein powder in his chicken broth was the singular issue.

Nicky decides to not pursue that further, if for nothing other than his own sanity.

“The others won’t bother you about Ichirou anymore or if they do I’ll stop them. Can they come back in?” Nicky asks.

FF doesn’t hesitate before he nods, “Yeah, sorry I just…thank you for having them step out. It would have been embarrassing for them to see me cry like I did.” He says.

Nicky looks at the obvious signs that FF had cried but doesn’t offer to clean them off fully. He thinks that the sight of it will stop any further inclination to interrogate.

“Of course Smithy. If they start overwhelming you again I’ll kick them right back out.” He promises and he means it, Andrew could threaten and scowl all he wants.

FF is Nicky’s friend and Nicky is going to do right by him.

***

Nicky goes and gets Andrew, Aaron, and Captain Neil from where they were waiting.

“Where’s Kevin?” FF asks looking at the three shorter men.

“He went off with coach and your grandma. He wants to know about your recovery and probably irritate them into releasing you if only so they can get rid of him.” Aaron answers taking a seat next to Nicky. “How was the soup?” He asks.

“It was good, I was pretty hungry.” FF smiles at Aaron. They hadn’t had much conversation and in all honesty FF didn’t really know what their relationship was, if they were friends or just acquaintances but he wanted to believe it said something in favor of them being friends that Aaron was here at all visiting him.

“That’s good.” Aaron offers him a smile that looks weird on a face that is identical to Andrew’s in so many ways even if there are just tiny differences.

He chats with Nicky and Aaron about inane things. Aaron tells him about Kevin’s multiple clashes with the nutritionist, Nicky talks about how Aras baked the pie with the ingredients he’d gotten, and Captain Neil and Andrew remain silent in the chairs they had sat down in. Maybe they don’t want to talk to him other than getting information that Nicky has deemed ‘off the table’. Captain Neil keeps looking at his face, opening his mouth, and then shutting it.

Maybe they just don’t want to be friends anymore after he blew it with talking to Ichirou.

FF comforts himself that at least Nicky is his friend, Aaron seems to be friendly enough with him, Kevin cares enough about him as a player to want to find out about his recovery and that could be counted as a friend. He has a vague sense that he also made a friend along the way to the hospital but that might have just been the blood loss and shock.

Maybe the EMT was just being nice.

His Gran comes back with Coach Wymack and Kevin both of them bringing her in on their elbows for some reason. Kevin looks a little irritated but he smiles at Gran before she takes the seat left open for her at Nicky’s side. Coach Wymack lets him know that after a final check from the doctor he’ll be free to leave.

“Are…are you going back to Palmetto?” Captain Neil asks him as Coach Wymack and Kevin were taking their seats.

FF blinks.

“Yeah, why? Am I off the team?” He asks and is quite proud that his voice doesn’t shake when he asks. This will keep him from playing for the rest of the semester. It might be better for them to-

Captain Neil smiles and he sees Andrew’s shoulders loosen. “Of course you’re still on the team Smith. We’re keeping you.” He says reaching over and squeezing FF’s shoulder once before moving and sitting back and sharing a relieved look with Andrew who merely rolls his eyes.

“I told you he wasn’t going to go back home.” Andrew says in Russian.

“We made him cry.” Captain Neil says in the same language and it takes everything in FF to not go red in mortification. Oh god he thought he had escaped anyone realizing that he had sobbed like a baby to his Gran.

The mortification passes quickly when he realizes why Andrew and Captain Neil had been quiet. They had been worried he’d leave and maybe a part of that was that they’d be losing two players but…

He looks at Andrew’s relaxed body language now and knows that Andrew wouldn’t care about losing a member of the team the way Captain Neil might.

…but maybe it’s that they wanted him to stay.

The thought leaves him feeling the best he has in months.

***

Signing out of the hospital takes a lot of paperwork. There are plans being faxed over to Abby. There are follow-ups being scheduled at the hospital down in Palmetto. There are discussions about who will go get FF’s stuff from his dorm so that his stay at Abby’s can be more comfortable. There is also the fact that his Grandma has asked if she can take up the other guest room to help with his recovery.

It makes him happy and guilty all at the same time.

Eventually he’s in a wheelchair being pushed out by Nicky and loaded into the Maserati with Nicky, his Gran, Neil, and with Andrew at the wheel. He notices how Andrew’s hands are solidly on 10 and 2 and feels better even if he wishes he had asked for that medical coma.

It’s a quick trip to the cousin’s house to grab their stuff and load it into both Wymack and Andrew’s cars and then they’re on their way back to Palmetto.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust​​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​​ @sahturnos​​ @pluto-pepsi​​ @dreamerthinker​​ @passinhosdetartaruga​​ @leftunknownheart​​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​​ @sammichly​​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​​ @its-a-paxycab​​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​​ @cheesecookie​​ @theoneandonlylostsock​​ @foxsoulcourt​​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​​ @elia-nna​​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​​ @hallucinatedjosten​​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​​ @chalilodimun​​ @insectsgetcooked​​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​​ @themundanemudperson​​ @readertodeath​​ @apileofpillows​​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​​ @hellomynameismoo​​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​​ @interstellarfig​​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​​ @spencellio @adinthedarkroom​​ @harpymoth​​ @sufferingjustalilbit​​​ @anxietymoss​​​ @oddgrayhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​​​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​​​ @isoldescorner​​​ @not--a--pipedream​​​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​​​  @roonilwazlib-main​​​ @crumplelush​​​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​​​ @thesenseinnonsense​​​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​​​ @legowerewolf​​​ @deadlydodos​​​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​​​ @lesbian-blackbeard​​​ @lesbiansupernatural​​​ @silvermasquerade​​​ @thepeachfuzz​​​ @minniemariex​​​ @kazoo-the-demjin​​​ @gaypomegranate​​​ @ji-nk-ies​​​ @neilimfinejosten​​​ @omgrubelangel​​​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​​​ @percabethotplove​​​ @cozyrosykay​​​ @foxyatlas​​​ @theoneandonlylostsock​​​ @cindersapsecrets​​​ @scornedethnographer​​​ @hugemotherfuckingnerd​​​ @givemethedamnflowers​​​ @our-king-bree​​​ @astrovoidy​​​

SO I’M AT THE MENTION LIMIT. 

Moving forward I’m going to put the people who want a ping in a separate post with a link to the new part. As always if your name is there, it’s spelled right, and you didn’t get a notification then it might be something in your settings.

[bea28]

Heartache

The fanart in the center is from tasya_rey on instagram.

I needed some more motivation to finish my final project in college.. so i did this to get my creativity back.

I based this on Andrews efforts on comforting Neil after a nightmare.

said efforts consists on:

a night drive after both of them woke up when Neil had a nightmare.

(He woke up kicking and screaming, it took andrew about 15 minutes calm him down enough to be able to tell him what he dreamed about. Andrew would kill the ones who did this to his boy if they weren't dead already)

-

a cup of tea and shared cigarettes when they finally got back and Neil needed one last thing to finally settle down and attempt sleep again.

(Andrew held him tight and watched him doze off)

-

a cozy morning, sleeping in because Andrew refused to wake Neil up after a bad night.

(and not that he would say it out loud, but andrew didn't get much sleep himself, too worried Neil would wake up in a panic again. So he let himself enjoy the comfort of their bed till late)

-

Kisses in rooftops, that later were transferred back to their bed, were andrew used actions to show Neil everything he couldn't say out loud.

("you can trust me" he said through soft touches

"i'll care for you" he said with slow kisses

"i've got you" was said with gentle guiding hands

"i love you" he said with his lips kissing every scar on Neil's body.

With a hand on Neil's heart and eyes connected,

Andrew hoped Neil could read every feeling deep inside his chest, every thought and word left unsaid,

when a tear rolled down Neils face, and a small smile appeared in his lips

andrew knew they felt the same, no need to say what was already known for the both of them).

-

Shared showers and kisses

one thing about andrew, is that contrary to popular belief (foxes) he loves taking care of Neil. That's why that day, his mission was one and one only, show Neil all his love and care.

Then he found himself in the shower, washing and rinsing Neils hair, massaging and kissing Neils body as it was to be worshiped (and for andrew.. it was)

When they got out, andrew fetched them their comfiest clothes, ordered food and they sat down to watch movies (Disney as per Neil's request).

The rest of the day was uneventful, but andrew watched Neil closely nonetheless. Neils eyes were clear now.. but he couldn't forget the panic and heart break he saw in those blue eyes when Neil looked at him after his nightmare, he hoped to never see that again, even though he knew he would.

Deep down, he wished to forever be the one to help Neil through these nights, over and over again as many times Neil needed him to.

--------------------------------——————————

Neil's nightmare was a memory of when he and his mother were caught by his fathers men. Instead of enduring what he had to, his mother somehow convinced Nathan that Neil was the one to blame for everything. Then she watched while Neil was tortured by his father.

He begged his mom to help him over and over again, to get him out of there.

But she didn't care, as long as she wasn't the one at the mercy of Nathans hands and Neil remained alive.. she didn't care.

After Neil passed out, Nathan told her to sew Neil back together and call him when Neil woke up. She of course.. took the chance to drag Neil and run again.

When he woke up, he didn't have a choice but follow his mother again.

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

If you want to, listen to "Holding on to heartache by Louis Tomlinson" i think is a great song for Andrew and Neil.

idk. is a great fucking song over all, just listen to it with our babies history in mind. you'll see.

[hassedah]

Eloise is the chalice of MC :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

This headcanon is a response to this request. I hope you enjoy it. ^^

Take care of yourself and have a good day! ^^

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

It was you that Eloise designated to be her vampire. You had just returned from a walk in the city when you heard all the commotion in the garden and smelled the blood. You hurried to your roommates fearing that there was still a problem at home while you were away. You saw the body of the young woman among Vladimir's flowers. When you asked what had happened Ethan shouted at you that it was "all Ivan's fault" because obviously the fact that none of the other five managed to stop a young human woman from climbing two flights of stairs to one of the rooms furthest away from the entrance of the house cannot be their fault. No, of course, the poor young woman managed to escape five vampires in a mansion, not because they're relatively incompetent, but by sheer luck.

When Vladimir asked her who should save her, she pointed to you, the only person who hadn't terrified her. After transforming her, you carried her to a free bedroom, you couldn't leave her on a sofa without any privacy, or on the cold floor, and even less in the garden, that would be really rude and disrespectful, the poor woman had already been shaken up enough.

Then you waited for her to wake up to explain what had happened, which wasn't easy as your dear, beloved roommates were busy blaming each other. You told her everything in detail, she was now a chalice, you were a vampire, she couldn't run away because of the bond, you can only feed on her blood. You tried to reassure her as best you could, which isn't exactly easy when Ethan is slamming doors and screaming in the manor, Ivan is looking at her like he's going to devour her, Aaron is still struggling with the concept of privacy, Raphael is singing the praises of his undead life every five minutes while justifying his roommates' abysmal behavior, Beliath is making advances on her, and Vladimir is determined to behave like a little despot ever since he arrived.

You don't know why, but Vladimir is unbearable, and you know even less why he thought he could come and yell at Eloise because of her ransacked garden, but clearly you don't intend to let him continue his nonsense in this way.

Vladimir :

Vladimir has rarely felt so stressed. Your chalice is the daughter of the people he killed. Of course, he never wanted to kill them, it's Neil's fault. But that's no reason. He feels like he's going to be sick, the anxiety is turning his stomach. Besides, the young woman is now your chalice, so he can't even kick her out.

Vladimir is still a little upset about the night you came to his room with Eloise and demanded that he apologise after almost slapping her. Of course, he knows he went too far, but... his garden was destroyed. You did not listen to his justifications and after a long argument he finally apologised. You find it very difficult to understand Vladimir's reaction, If he had just come to you before he went to yell at Eloise you could have both talked about his garden and found a way to help him fix it.

It's hard to have a good relationship with someone you've tried to slap after meeting them for the first time just 24 hours before. Eloise and Vladimir don't get on very well and she doesn't like being alone in the same room with him. You don't want to force her either, as this would serve no purpose other than to make their relationship even more difficult. Besides, it's not she cup to make an effort, after all, it was Vladimir who behaved like a cad with the young woman.

What Vladimir regrets most of all is that it has damaged your relationship. You got on well before all this. You used to come and read with him in the library and even let him talk about Darcy and his garden without ever reproaching him for being boring about it. He tries to convince himself that it's all Eloise's fault and that if she hadn't been there everything would have gone on as normal, but he knows that he behaved very badly to her.

After a long week, during which he avoided the young woman like the plague. He eventually realises that this is not very mature behaviour (in fact, it was Raphael who told him he was being rude). He tries to sympathise with Eloise, but his efforts are broken by the fact that she clearly doesn't trust him, she refuses to talk to him, if you are not in the room with her. After all, she's already nearly been hit once for no reason, she won't risk it happening again. So at first, you stay with them in each discussion.

Then little by little Eloise felt more comfortable being alone with Vladimir, as he did not have any more tantrums. As a result, your relationship with Vladimir slowly returned to normal. The two of you are talking again and spending time together often. You even helped him to tidy up his garden, which made him really happy, he had missed this kind of time with you.

Objectively, Beliath isn't the one who gives you the most trouble. He teases Eloise a lot, but he cares enough to bring her things she likes to eat, he even bought her a new dress to replace the one that was damaged during her fall. In addition, you often see him trying to make her laugh or take her mind off things. The only thing you could blame him for is that he is sometimes a bit too flirty with your chalice and Eloise doesn't seem to be really comfortable with that.

Béliath :

Beliath didn't really know how to react at first. The idea of having a chalice seemed as amusing as it was annoying, and he's mostly watching your reaction to Eloise to see how to behave with her. As he sees that you are quick to defend him from others, he decides to do as you do. After all, he is your friend and if you care about her then so does he. Finally, he even finds himself liking.

However, even though you know that Beliath is not a bad person, he is sometimes very intrusive and this makes Eloise uncomfortable and she cannot always get him to stop. You have had to intervene several times to ask Beliath to leave Eloise alone. However, this is about the only thing you had to do. Once Beliath realised that his behaviour was making Eloise feel uncomfortable he stopped. It is quite relaxing for you because he is one of the first people you are not afraid to leave alone with Eloise, after all, despite what Vladimir says, Beliath is not an irresponsible idiot and you know very well that he will take care of the young woman.

In any case, Eloise's arrival has had no real effect on your relationship with Beliath. You spend a little less time with him, especially at the beginning, because you want to help Eloise adapt to her new way of life, but once she gets used to living with you the situation returns to normal. You start coming to the Moondance with Beliath and Ethan again, or going on those long shopping trips that the incubus loves so much. Beliath is not even bothered by the idea of Eloise accompanying you from time to time.

In the end, Eloise and Beliath even get along quite well, as long as Ethan is not there to influence Beliath's behaviour for the worse.When you're not with Eloise, she often spends time with Beliath, who has even agreed to take her to the Moondance despite Ethan's complaints about it. It makes you feel good to see that Beliath cares for her. Even though you had to insist that he or Ethan take her back to the manor every time after the Moondance. After all, there are wolves in the forest, not animals that an eighteen year old woman can fight with her bare hands.

Also, Eloise and Beliath get along pretty well the vast majority of the time, as long as Ethan isn't around to influence Beliath's behaviour for the worse. When you're not with Eloise, she often spends time with Beliath, who even agreed to take her to the Moondance despite Ethan's complaints about it. It makes you feel good to see that Beliath cares for her. Even though you had to insist that he or Ethan walk her back to the manor every time after the Moondance. After all, there are wolves in the forest, they are not animals that an eighteen year old woman can fight with her bare hands.

After the first few murders, Beliath becomes a little more protective of Eloise. He realises that your survival depends on her survival and he has finally grown attached enough to her to consider her a full member of the manor. Losing both of you at once would be devastating and he certainly doesn't want that to happen. He's working with you to make sure Eloise is always safe, even if he continues to take her with him to the Moondance so that she can take her mind off of things and have a little fun despite all the murders.

You're quite worried about another accident happening, especially because your housemates are persisting with the idea of getting the two younger ones together again. Which you don't want to do at all until Eloise is less stressed. She is still afraid of him, which you can understand, and it is not by forcing a rapprochement that neither of them wants that they will become friends.

Ivan :

He was extremely stressed about Eloise staying at the mansion and even more so about the idea of you being tied to her. After all, if he were to hurt her you would be directly affected. So for the first few weeks, he totally refused to be in the same place as her, let alone unsupervised. The last thing he wanted was for another accident to happen.

At first, Ivan is mostly relieved that you are not angry with him. He was afraid that with Eloise's arrival you would no longer pay any attention to him and that even worse you would be angry at him for hurting her. Ivan's stress made you feel bad, of course, but you already had Eloise to take care of so you couldn't take care of him as much as you would have liked. However, you made sure that you always spent some time with him. So you could see that he was less and less affected by Eloise's presence in the manor, although still stressed.

It took Eloise a long time to agree to meet Ivan. The others had insisted that you force them to meet as soon as possible but you did not give in. There is no point in them meeting if Eloise is afraid of Ivan attacking her and Ivan is afraid of attacking Eloise. You simply waited until they were both ready to meet.

It took Eloise a long time to agree to meet Ivan. The others had been very insistent that you force them to meet as soon as possible but you didn't give in. After all, Eloise kept jumping whenever she saw Ivan in a corridor and you felt all her anxiety because of your bond. So it was obvious to you that it was a bad idea to rush them. After all, they need time and patience, especially if you want the meeting to go well.

It finally happened after several weeks. It was probably not the best first meeting, but they were able to talk for half an hour together under your supervision. Eloise didn't get very far from you during this discussion, but they managed to joke around a bit and Eloise even agreed to meet him again later on. You are proud of them, because you were sure that everything would be fine if you gave them some time to recover from their emotions.

Little by little, they didn't even need your presence to discuss things together and you were able to resume a more or less normal life in the manor, resuming your movie and video game evenings in Ivan's room, Eloise even joining you sometimes to play a few games with you or watch a movie.

When the murders started in town, their relationship didn't even deteriorate. Eloise trusted Ivan enough to know that he was not to blame. It was a real relief to you who had feared for a while that Eloise's fears would take over again.

Ivan, on the other hand, takes great care to ensure Eloise's safety. After all, you depend on Eloise's health and Ivan doesn't want you to get hurt because he couldn't protect her. You can therefore make regular rounds around the manor with Aaron or Ethan without worrying about the young woman because you know she is safe.

Aaron is very sweet, he looks after Eloise when you are not around and sometimes even keeps her company. But you really wish he would stop talking nonsense about Eloise owing you obedience as a chalice. While you would appreciate it if she didn't kill herself trying to run away, she is not your dog. And just because some vampires lock their chalices in the cellar and only deal with them when they're hungry doesn't mean Eloise should be grateful that you don't.

Aaron :

Aaron tries to help you as best he can with Eloise. This usually involves bringing her back to the manor after she has tried to run away again. He is quite impressed by her stubbornness, but also upset because these attempts to run away put you in danger in his opinion. So their relationship is not good.

Eloise's arrival has not really affected your relationship with Aaron. You spend a little less time with him of course because you have to look after her. But you still go for walks in the forest with Aaron whenever you have some free time. This makes Aaron happy because he has always enjoyed your long walks in the forest.

Eloise, however, doesn't like Aaron very much and you find it a little hard to understand why at first. After all, Aaron looks out for her and is much nicer to her than Vladimir or Ethan are. You would have thought that the two of them would get along very well and you are a little disappointed that this is not the case.

You understand better the reasons for their disagreement after several weeks. When Eloise came to you and shouted that she had never asked you to save her and that she did not want to obey you like a little dog.  It took you several minutes to understand what she was getting at and to calm her down. Eloise told you what Aaron had said to her about obeying and being grateful to you as a Chalice. And to tell you the truth, you felt a little hurt. You had never thought of the young woman in that way.

So you went to discuss it with Aaron. But the discussion was rather complicated, Aaron couldn't see what he had said about Eloise that was wrong, despite your explanation. You argued a bit and eventually went back to Eloise in order to reassure her of your intentions towards her.

Despite this, you did not stay at odds for long. Aaron came to talk to you the very next day, after telling Raphael about your fight. He understands that he misspoke about Eloise, he didn't want to give her the impression that you had all the rights over her and he understands that this may have upset you both. But it will take some time for Eloise to trust him, after all, she doesn't know Aaron as well as you do and she doesn't know that he is just tactless most of the time.

Their relationship improves when the first murders occur in town. You're worried about Eloise and you know you might not be around if she's attacked so you insist that she train to fight with Aaron. She only agreed to train with him because you trust her to do so, otherwise she would have gone to Raphael or Beliath. As the training goes on they get on better and better and Eloise is very proud to come and show you her progress after training with Aaron.

Like all your housemates, you like him very much. But you'd rather he kept his mouth shut than try to justify your roommates' abysmal behaviour with "But we are vampires!" Objectively, being a vampire has never prevented you from respecting simple rules of politeness, like not reading mail that doesn't belong to you or threatening someone. Yes, you are still thinking of Vladimir and Ethan when you say that.

Raphaël :

Raphael is so happy for you. He thinks it's a wonderful bond you've made with Eloise and he keeps telling you how lucky you are. You, on the other hand, don't totally agree with this. You find yourself bound for life to a young woman who has not really had a choice, your survival depends on hers and vice-versa and moreover you have to spend a lot of time reassuring her, because what eighteen year old girl would not be terrified to find herself in her situation? However, Raphael never listens to your explanations and continues to dream on his little cloud.

Raphael's reaction complicates your relationship a little. You're far too tense to listen to him go on and on about how lucky he thinks you are, and you really feel that he doesn't realise how stressful it really is to have someone you have to protect at all costs.

Moreover Eloise does not get on well with Raphael, you know this because she has told you how he always tries to justify Vladimir's or Ethan's bad behaviour. You have told her not to pay attention to what Raphael says, but she can't really do that and has even argued with him about it. You intervened before the argument escalated but despite Raphael's complaints you cannot prove the young woman wrong, after all, it is a bit inappropriate to justify Vladimir's behaviour with a simple "He's in a bad mood." Vladimir is not a fussy little boy, he is an adult.

However, Raphael does not hold a grudge against Eloise for long, mainly because he wants to keep a good relationship with you. Once everyone in the manor gets used to the presence of the young woman your relationship with Raphael returns to normal, you spend time with him again in the library and he continues to tell you about the new romance novels he has read. These are moments that he really enjoys and he is very happy to be able to spend this time with you again.

He suddenly seems to realise that the bond is not as positive as he said it was, when the first murders start. Suddenly he realises that Eloise's death would also be your death and the idea seems really scary.

He is very insistent that Eloise stay at the manor with everyone else and he really doesn't like the idea of her sometimes accompanying Beliath to the Moondance for fun. In his opinion, Eloise could just as easily have fun in the safety of the home. You have a bit of trouble getting Raphael to understand that the young woman needs to go out and have fun outside the manor to relax and especially to see people her own age.

You like him a lot, even though he is often in a bad mood. It's very nice to spend time with him and even if he annoys you sometimes, like all your housemates, you wouldn't let anyone hurt him. However, he has become quite unbearable since Eloise's arrival and if he continues to have fun scaring her or putting her down whenever they are in the same room you might get a bit angry.

Ethan :

He's always hated abrupt changes and Eloise is an abrupt change. Now, she's hanging around the mansion and trying to run away, putting you in danger. Ethan is having a hard time with this. Plus he thinks she's stupid, sure she's only eighteen, but he's sure he was never that stupid at eighteen and the worst part is that you're taking his side!

You didn't think it would be this hard with Ethan. You get on well with him normally and although he's always had a difficult temper, he's never been really aggressive with you and the two of you used to go out together or Moondance or to a bar. So you find it very difficult to understand why he is so aggressive with Eloise.

Eloise avoids him like the plague and because of your bond you can't really ignore the anxiety she feels when she's in the same room as the doctor, so you do your best to keep them together as little as possible.

You didn't hear it at first. It's almost as if Ethan took advantage of your absence to call Eloise "the pantry" or "the all-you-can-eat buffet". She didn't tell you about it either, so you didn't know about it until you heard her do it in the hallway.

To be honest, hearing it made your stomach turn. The words "the pantry", "the all-you-can-eat buffet", "the human" are very dehumanising! It was no wonder that Eloise seemed sad and on edge the last few days. Eloise has a name that you want others to use to call her. Why call her a "chalice of MC" as if she were just an extension of yourself ? You quickly rejoined them and demanded an apology from Ethan, and of course he refused and even got upset. As a result, you told him that you would not speak to him again until he apologised to Eloise.

He understood that you were serious when you still haven't spoken to him after a week. He feels really hurt and offended, you've only known Eloise for a short time, why put her before him? He has been your friend for much longer. The worst thing is that even Beliath agrees with you. Part of him knows he should give in and apologise, but the other part feels that the longer he waits, the later it is and that you will be too angry to accept his apology anyway.

Finally, you changed tactics after another week. You took him between the eyes to explain once again what was wrong with the way he talked about Eloise. The discussion was not easy, but after a long hour he finally agreed to apologise to Eloise. You immediately started talking to him again after he apologised.

It was not easy for him to get along with Eloise. But little by little it works. Although the improvement in their relationship is probably helped by the murders that take place in town. Ethan becomes quite protective of Eloise as she is related to you and he doesn't want anything to happen to her. He would be very upset if you were to get hurt because he wasn't careful enough to make sure that nothing happened to her.

[greyghoulclub]

The Ghost at the Boarding School - Mungrove Week prompt 6

Written for @mungroveweek

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46783390

Billy didn’t believe in ghosts. 

That’s what he would’ve told you two months ago when he was sent to this stupid fucking boarding school. But lo and behold he was told he was getting the ‘haunted’ dorm since it was the only one free at this point in the year. 

“Welcome to Our Lady Immaculate School, Mr Hargrove,” droned the tiny woman at the reception desk, “Your room will be on the third floor, number 306.” She passed him a key and a map of the school and grounds and his timetable. “Classes start at 9 am sharp and your uniform will be waiting upstairs.” She eyed his Metallica t-shirt with distaste. 

She had then shuffled off into the room behind her desk, Billy took that as his cue to get out of her sight. He grumbled at nothing in particular and then at something in particular when he realised he’d have to lug his suitcase up three flights of stairs.

“God fucking damn it,” he glared at the stained glass window showing the Virgin Mary with seven swords piercing her heart. 

Room 306 was like any of the other dorms apart from one slight difference. It didn’t look like anyone had been in here since the 80s. Seriously, it had old Dio tour posters on the walls from 1986. Although everything had been cleaned and the bed had been made for his arrival, none of the old occupant’s had been touched. Billy flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, it could be worse, he thought. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw he had three missed calls from Argyle and some commiseration texts from Max. While Billy was being sent off to a boarding school for ‘troubled kids’, it didn’t say that on the pamphlet Neil had shoved at him before yelling at him to pack his bags but he got the gist, Max was getting ‘etiquette lessons’ on how to act like a proper young lady. Billy had laughed at the idea of rough-and-tumble tomboy Max in a frilly dress and heels. But that was before the reality of his end of the deal hit him. He was being sent away from everything he ever knew. Everyone he knew. Neil even wanted to confiscate his phone but Susan managed to convince Neil to let him keep it. If only to keep in contact with the house.

The texts from Max read;

“They’re making me learn which fork goes with salad… I think I’ll stab someone in the hand with it instead”

“Billyyyyyyyy I’m so bored this sucks so much”

“Can God smite me now? What did I do in a past life to deserve this?”

Billy chuckled and sent her a picture of a cat looking angry with its cheeks puffed out and captioned it “It’s you rn”. Max sent back three middle finger emojis. He then went to his voicemail and tapped the first one that Argyle had sent.

“Yo man, what’s up? I hear you’re being sent to this like, uh, boarding school for criminal kids? Wicked nasty move of your old man to move you to Indiana.” Even though the slightly tinny speaker of his phone, Argyle’s voice sounded like the beach and summer. He missed his best friend already. He could hear the clatter of the pizza shop Argyle worked at in the background. “Call me when you can. Gotta make sure you’re ok man. Gotta go now, boss man’s on the floor.” And then the voicemail ended. 

Billy could feel the prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes, he didn’t wanna listen to the other voicemails just yet, he wanted to savour them, reminding him that this wasn’t forever. But he should probably call Argyle back. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, waiting for Argyle to pick up. 

When he did, he sounded like he had been asleep. He probably was since Billy still wasn’t used to the time difference in Indiana vs California. 

“Hello?” The sleep was heavy on Argyle’s voice, and Billy felt a little bad about waking him up but he needed someone to talk to. 

“Hey Argyle, it’s me,” Billy’s voice was small, still the instinct to keep quiet remained. Even if he was far away from Neil. “I, uh, you asked me to call you when I could?” God, he sounded pathetic. 

“Yo! B-man what’s going on dude? You’re in the boonies now, huh?” Argyle still sounded happy to hear from him, even if he probably did wake him up at like 3 am. That was the good thing about Argyle, even if you were kind of an asshole like Billy, if Argyle decided you were one of his brochachos, you were a brochacho for life. 

“Yeah, it's like, this Catholic boarding school for ‘troubled teens’ but they don’t say that. I got this dorm that looks like no one’s been in it since the 80s. No seriously, there’s Dio posters from 1986.”

“‘86? Really? Dude, I bet you’ve got one of the haunted dorms like in horror movies,” Argyle’s laugh was like having a sip of warm hot chocolate, warming you from your belly. Billy didn’t realise how much he missed his best friend until now.  

“Man, you know that stuff’s not real. How much of a dork would a ghost from the 80s be? If they died here I bet they’re still a teenager. God, I’d hate that, being a teenager in the afterlife.”

“How do you know it’s not real? Maybe the ghosts won’t talk to you because you’re always denying their existence.”

Billy laughed, “Yeah that’s why the ghosts won’t speak to me because I’m mean to them.” Argyle laughed with a ‘yeah you’re so mean!’ tacked on. They fell into easy conversation after that, with Argyle catching Billy up with all the antics of their friend group and the new pizza combos he’d come up with at work. 

“Mix a bit of sriracha into the marinara and top with pineapples, it’s so good dude. Like sweet and spicy,” Billy had a warm but strange feeling in his belly listening to Argyle, it was like he had gone on a rollercoaster and had come out giggling with adrenaline. It lasted until Argyle hung up to go back to sleep. Then the loneliness came back, like quicksand sucking Billy in. He stared out of the window, the school was covered with thick forest land as far as the eye could see. This place seriously looked like the setting for a Stephen King novel, he thought. 

He heard a thump from the corner of the dorm, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t jump a little.  He looked over from where he was lying on his bed. It was just one of the paperback novels that were stacked on the dresser falling onto the floor. 

“Sure, this is a fucking haunted school,” he muttered to himself. 

******

Billy couldn’t explain why but weird stuff had been going on in his dorm, and he was running out of ways to logically explain it. The window opens in the middle of the night? Well, it was windy last night. Something brushes against his back while he’s sleeping? Probably just his duvet. 

His classmates had noticed that he was always tired in class, and he knew he couldn’t keep using the jetlag excuse. 

“Are you sleeping ok?” a girl in his history class, Jennie asked him. Jennie was on the girl's volleyball team and she had clocked Billy immediately. She had also decided that they were friends. 

“I’m fine,” Billy turned back to his history textbook but the words were swimming in front of his eyes.

“And you can’t lie to me, Cali.” Jennie poked his shoulder with her pencil until he turned to face her. “You got the haunted dorm didn’t ya?”

Billy rolled his eyes, and it seemed like everyone believed in this alleged haunting but him. “Yeah, the fucking time capsule from 1986.” 

“D’ya know what happened to the last guy who had that dorm?” 

“He died.”

Jennie flicked her eraser at him. “No, but really, there’s a rumour that he got murrrrrrderrrred,” Jennie said the last word in a sing-song way. 

“What? You’re making that up.” Billy hated to admit that he was intrigued, a murder at a boarding school? It reminded him of the thriller novels that Susan read. 

“I’m not!” Jennie said that a bit louder than she intended and got a glare from Mr O’Donnell. “I swear that there was a guy who was killed here! My brother went to this school too and he told me about it.”

“Ever considered that he was pulling your leg?”

Luckily for Billy, Jennie didn’t have anything she could throw at him without causing a scene. “Nah, I’d be able to tell if Nick was lying to me.” Jennie passed Billy her phone under the desk, it had a picture of a guy on it. He had curly brown hair that was shoulder length and a battle vest. And a grin that marked him down as a troublemaker. “That’s the guy that got killed, Eddie Munson.”

“Explains the posters that are still in my room,” Billy looked at the guy’s battle vest, there was a Motorhead patch, WASP and Judas Priest. There was a demon on his shirt and the words ‘Hellfire Club’. 

“Ok so, he was retaking senior year for the second time in ‘86 and he had this club for like, um, DnD,” Jennie spoke quickly as she got more excited. “But there were rumours that he was a Satanist or something? And there was this other guy,” Jennie scrolled to another photo in her camera roll, “Jason Carver. And he’s like this super ultra-Christian guy and the captain of the basketball team. He and Eddie do not get along. Eddie was making fun of him and his cronies for conforming or some shit, in front of everyone in the cafeteria, and Jason is mega pissed, right? So he and his teammates jump Eddie in his dorm and I don’t know if it’s true but they accidentally broke his neck. But everyone thinks Jason killed Eddie on purpose.”

“Sounds like some Satanic panic shit,” Billy said, deducing from the time of the story, and what he knew about the 80s from his dad’s drunken rants about ‘how it used to be’. 

“Yeah probably-” Jennie started to say when she got interrupted by Mr O’Donnell. 

“Miss Park, Mr Hargrove, if you two would return to your worksheets and stop talking about the accidental death at this school, it would be very much appreciated.” They both mumbled an apology and Billy swore he felt a cold breeze go through the classroom, even though none of the windows was open. 

*****

Billy felt like he was being watched. 

It was always in his dorm room but he refused to believe it was the supposed ghost of Eddie Munson. If it was, this ghost is going to have to show himself to Billy. Jennie was convinced that Billy was being haunted. 

“Dude! He is absolutely haunting you and he probably wants you out of his dorm or he wants to kill you,” Jennie told him over breakfast the next morning.  

Billy pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate, “Little morbid for 7.30 am Jen,” He didn’t tell her that he was maybe starting to believe her because some of the shit that was happening in his dorm he couldn’t explain logically. Like feeling something poke his face while he was sleeping or waking up to his phone ringing with an unknown number but when he answered it, it was all static. 

Jennie stuffed some Cheerios into her mouth and raised an eyebrow at Billy. Like she had read his thoughts or something. She swallowed and said, “But isn’t that what the ghosts of people who were murdered do? They’re, uh, vengeful?” She pointed her spoon at Billy, “Maybe you look too much like Jason for him.”

“The only thing we have in common is that we both have blonde hair. Plus the guy is probably 50 now, the statute of limitations passed a long time ago,” Billy chewed on a bit of toast but it was dry in his mouth. 

“We should try and speak with him.” Jennie sounded very intense suddenly, she was making direct eye contact, which she never did unless it was serious. 

“What?”

“We should try and make contact with Eddie, get his side of the story bc all we have is rumours and Jason’s side,” Jennie passed Billy her phone with an old news article on the screen. 

“Accidental death of a student at Our Lady Immaculate School” was the title of the article, dated 21st of March 1986. The article read:

“An accidental death of a student at Our Lady Immaculate School in Roane County, Indiana has been reported by Christine Cunningham, a senior year student. 

The student in question, Edward Munson, was a 2nd time senior and a noted troublemaker. Having been sent to the school after being caught for defacement of public property in his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Munson had also been known to be involved with the game ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ and the heavy metal subgenre of music. He was also known to have a rivalry with the captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver. 

Carver said, “Munson went against everything the school stood for and he was making moves on my girlfriend Chrissy. I told him to stay away but he challenged me to a fight. I was going to scare him away from Chrissy and we did fight but he fell down some stairs and didn’t move when we went to check.” 

Coroner’s reports say that Munson died from a cervical fracture and that the death was accidental. However, some students at the school, who were associates of Munson, say that Munson was deliberately pushed down the stairs.”

In the article, there was a picture of Eddie, with the dates 30th May 1966 - 21st March 1986 underneath. 

“Shit, he died when he was 19,” Billy muttered after he read the article. 

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Jennie took her phone back from Billy, “But I bet that the Carver dude is covering something up. It’s just a little too convenient that Eddie fell down some stairs when they fought.”

“So you want to contact Eddie to get his side of the story?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you going to do that?” 

“Well, we are going to use an Ouija board tonight,” Jennie pushed her bowl away and grabbed her bag and pulled out what looked like a cassette player, “and if the Ouija board doesn’t work we can use this,” Billy looked at her confused, “It’s called a spiritbox, ghosts can use it to communicate via radio waves.” 

Billy knew he couldn’t say no to Jennie at this point, but goddammit if he wasn’t curious if it would work.

“Ok, meet me at my dorm at midnight. We’ll try this shit and if it doesn’t work don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” 

****

If they said they weren’t nervous, they’d be lying. Not because of the ghost that might be there but in case one of the nuns caught them in Billy’s dorm. There was a strict rule of no couples in each other’s dorms. No one said anything about same-sex couples, but Billy didn’t tell you that. 

Jennie had come to the dorm at about 15 minutes past midnight, she said she would’ve been earlier but she had to take the long way because Sister Franklin was doing a round on the girl’s floor.  

“I had to hide in the bathroom for ages, man, she was just standing in front of the stairs, it was creepy,” she shuddered like she had eaten something sour. She then set the Ouija board on the floor between her and Billy. The spiritbox was off to the side. 

Billy felt a little stupid sitting cross-legged on the floor with his index fingers on the bottom corners of the planchette. Jennie was doing the same on the other side, but she looked like she was a little scared. 

Her voice trembled a little when she asked, “Eddie? Are you here?”

It felt like a force from above moved the planchette under their fingers to the ‘yes’ on the board. Jennie gasped a little, the fear in her voice disappearing. Billy was doing a speedrun through the ‘accepting that ghosts are in fact, real gauntlet’.  The planchette moved around the board to say “I was waiting for you guys to notice me here. Especially you Billy”. 

“Have you been haunting me?” Billy asked before he could stop himself. 

“Thanks for noticing. Have been for the last month.”

This wasn’t real, was it? But Billy was awake, and he was actually talking to a ghost. If you told him he’d be doing this a month ago, he’d laugh in your face.

There was suddenly a blue glow above their heads, both Billy and Jennie looked up to see the ghost of Eddie Munson appear before them. 

“Man, it’s nice to be able to appear in front of people again. Last time I did that, I think the guy had a heart attack,” Eddie talked very nonchalantly like it was no big deal that he had just altered the fabric of reality for Billy. He looked down at the two teenagers gawping at him, “Huh, nice to see you didn’t take down any of my stuff. And the uniform hasn’t changed either,” he gestured at the similar white shirt and black sweater he was wearing as well. Although Eddie had his tie loose around his neck. 

“Why haven’t you moved on?” Jennie spoke first, ever the curious.

“Can’t,” Eddie answered simply. Like he had tried before. Billy had a feeling in his gut that it had something to do with Jason Carver. 

“I’m missing something. I can’t remember what it was now, it’s been so long. Bet that bastard Carver hid it after he killed me,” Eddie floated around the room like he was pacing. 

“Jason Carver really did kill you?” Jennie blurted out, “I thought that was a rumour!” She fumbled with her phone to pull up the article again. But her phone seemed to glitch in Eddie’s presence. 

“Uh yeah? He pushed me down some stairs. Big news in the county,” Eddie’s tone took on a darker note, “and he got away with it.” Eddie’s glow got darker with his words, Billy could see now why they were called vengeful ghosts. 

Billy’s throat felt dry, and a small part of him felt like running. But he spoke anyway, “I don’t know if we can do anything about Carver, he's like 50 now but we could help you find the thing you need to move on.” 

Eddie’s glow went back to the light blue from before, but now it was a little warmer, “Really? You’d do that for me?” He seemed happy. How long had he gone ignored? Billy knew how that felt. 

“Yeah, we would,” Billy nudged Jennie with his elbow, getting her to react too. She nodded quickly. Eddie floated down to be near the floor, almost like he was sitting with them. 

“I could tell you what I remember, it’s not much though.”

*****

From what Eddie told them, it turns out that he was not in fact hitting on Chrissy Cunningham but selling her some weed. And she had broken up with Jason and he was mad about it, Chrissy had a thing for Eddie, and Jason had caught them maybe nearly kissing. And so Jason challenged him to a fight and told Eddie to meet him at his dorm. But Jason was waiting at the top of the stairs and pushed Eddie down them. 

Billy had been thinking about what Eddie said, his bleeding heart went out for Eddie, he knew exactly how Eddie must’ve felt at that moment. Someone blowing up over a small infraction. 

Reading the article again, Jason must’ve used the excuse of Eddie being a social pariah against him. Because how dare you be the social reject and be friendly towards the most popular girl in school?  

He went back up to his dorm on lunch break, saying he wasn’t hungry to the other guys in the gym, Eddie was waiting for him. 

“I thought you could only appear at night?” Billy dumped his gym bag by the desk. 

“It's just harder in the daytime,” he flickered a little bit, “gotta concentrate more to stay visible.”

Billy nodded and opened his desk drawer to get his cigarettes. Technically, he wasn’t allowed in school but the reception lady didn’t bother to check his pockets. He opened his dorm window and lit the end. Breathed in the smoke and enjoyed the feeling of the nicotine buzz. He saw Eddie floating closer in his peripheral vision. 

“Aww man, I haven’t had a cig in years…” He sounded like he was yearning for it. 

“Can you even smoke? Like should I blow some smoke at you?” Would that even work? 

“I dunno, you could try.”  

Billy took another drag of the cigarette, and blew the smoke at Eddie. The other tried to breathe in the smoke before it flowed through his incorporeal body. 

“Did that do anything for you?” Billy tapped the ash away on the edge of the window. 

“Uh, I could feel something. Like when you walk by something that smells good? It’s like that.” Eddie reached out and put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. It felt cold. “Thanks for trying though.”

“If you died with your cigs in your pocket are they like ghost cigs now?”

Eddie looked at Billy like he had just slapped him in the face. Then burst out laughing. As he was laughing he lost control of his floating and he rose up to the ceiling like a helium balloon. Once he could breathe again, he admitted that the ghost thing doesn’t quite work like that.

“We only really keep stuff that meant a lot to us in life,” Eddie raised his hand to show some rings on his fingers, they looked like ones Billy would find at a flea market back home. Billy had a fleeting thought of him keeping his St Christopher’s pendant if he was a ghost. Eddie for a moment, looked like he got an electric shock. 

“My pick!” He looked down his shirt, “My guitar pick! I kept it on a necklace and I think it’s what I need to move on!” 

Billy’s brain was going a million miles a minute, so if Eddie got this guitar pick he’d be able to pass over to the afterlife? He guessed it was something to do with him being very attached to it in his lifetime. But also he kind of didn’t want Eddie to go, it was nice having him around, almost like a really annoying roommate. 

“Helloooooo, earth to Billy, are you there?” Eddie was floating face-to-face with Billy. He grinned when Billy flinched backwards. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Once Billy’s heart stopped jackhammering in his chest he told Eddie some white lie about how he and Jennie were going to try and look for Eddie’s guitar pick tonight. Eddie did some backflips in the air and pumped his fist. He genuinely did seem excited about this. 

“At night I’ll be able to move around more so I can help you guys, I think I might have an idea of where it is,” If ghosts could get a sugar rush, this is how Billy would think it looked like. Eddie was floating around the room again muttering stuff about the Hellfire Club and the theatre room. Theatre room? There wasn’t a theatre room mentioned when Billy came to this school. 

“Uh, one small problem Eddie, there isn’t a theatre room here,” Billy felt like he was stating the obvious but maybe Eddie didn’t know that the theatre room that was there when he was a student might be gone now. 

“Sure there is, they just don’t use it because it’s haunted,” Eddie put the last word in quotation marks with his fingers. 

“You’ve been haunting this theatre room? Jennie is gonna flip her shit when she hears that,” Billy rubbed one eye, sighing in exasperation. “Alright I’ve got to leave for class but here’s the deal. Me and Jennie will meet you by the back door to the school grounds after the nuns have done their nighttime prayers. You show us where this theatre room is and we’ll look for your guitar pick. Sounds good?” 

Eddie was in ghost-sugar rush mode again, Billy thought he kind of looked like a ping-pong ball bouncing around the room. “I’ll be by the stairs ok!” He told Billy just before the other left the dorm again. 

*****

Jennie was just as excited as Eddie was, Billy half-thought that she would start floating around the room. 

“If this actually works, what’s gonna happen to you Eddie?” Jennie was asking a million questions, like she was interviewing Eddie. Eddie floated a few paces in front of Billy and Jennie, leading them to the abandoned theatre room. 

Eddie turned to face them, his glow was a lot brighter in the nighttime. “Well, I’ll just move on. Like, I won’t be here anymore.” 

“You just disappear?”

“Yeah. Think so anyway.”

Billy was quiet as he followed the other two, he was still thinking that he didn’t really want Eddie to go, but if that made Eddie happy, he wouldn’t stop him. It must’ve been kinda sad, seeing everything change around you but you’re still the same. All of his friends must’ve grown up and forgotten about him right?

“We’re here,” Eddie stopped in front of an old side building to the west of campus. It looked like a storage container to Billy, in fact he had seen it when he was dropped off at campus by his dad and he had assumed it was where sports equipment was kept. 

Eddie went ahead and floated through the wall, yelling for the other two to come along with him. Unfortunately for them the door was locked and they couldn’t phase through a solid wall. Jennie rattled the door handle to get Eddie’s attention again. 

“Is the door locked? Oh uh, I figured it wouldn’t be,” Eddie’s head appeared outside of the door. 

Billy crouched at the locked door and pulled some wires from his pocket, sliding the wires in, he started to poke around until he found the locking mechanism. A few more pokes and he heard the click of the door unlocking. 

“Where did you learn how to pick locks?” Jennie blurted out when Billy stood back up. He opened the door to Eddie floating there in amazement. “It’s a long story,” he muttered. “Are we gonna find this guitar pick or not?” he really didn’t want to go into why he got sent to this school right now. 

“Should I uh, lead the way?” Eddie made some grand gestures like he was welcoming them to a grand hotel. 

The only light in the room was the glow from Eddie, with the dark shapes cast by whatever was in the room, it looked like something out of a horror B movie. Billy and Jennie were tripping over stuff, themselves, each other until the were drowned in the overhead lights. 

“That better for you guys?” Eddie called from somewhere in the distance. The room looked like a theatre nerd’s wet dream, there was a fucking throne in the room for god’s sake! Chalets lined the dust covered table, which itself was littered with dice and bits of paper that were scrawled with drawings of elves and some numbers that meant nothing to Billy. Eddie was floating in a sitting position in the throne. Like it was his, it probably was. 

“Was this the- the Hellfire Club?” Jennie sounded amazed by all that was around her, eyes taking in everything. Some of the stuff in here reminded Billy of the mountain hall in the Fellowship of the Ring, maybe Eddie was a fan when he was alive. 

“You’d be right, this was indeed where brave adventurers gathered to take on the wrath of the dark lord Vecna. Where-” 

Billy wasn’t listening to Eddie anymore, he was wandering about the room, looking for anything that might be Eddie’s guitar pick necklace. If he was going to be honest, he just wanted to find it quickly and rip off the bandaid of Eddie leaving. Easier that way. 

Then, he found the photo. 

It was just a polaroid but it was of Eddie and his friends from 1985, they were smiling and the photo was so full of joy. The Eddie in the photo didn’t know that he’d be stuck at 19 while the rest of his friends got to grow up and move on with their lives. 

“That photo huh?” Eddie was now beside Billy, “God, man Gareth was such a goof. I saw him at the ten year reunion in ‘97. He’d gotten married and was gonna be a dad,” he pointed the smaller boy with a flannel shirt in the photo. “And Jeff?” he now pointed to the tallest boy in the photo, “he got into Stanford on a scholarship, always the brains of the operation in here.” Eddie sounded wistfully nostalgic about the time he had with them but Billy didn’t miss the sad note in his voice. 

“Eddie, do you wanna stay?” Billy asked quietly. 

Eddie for once, was speechless. Was his brain short-circuiting? He looked like he was buffering.

“Stay? What do you mean?” 

Billy turned to face Eddie, “I mean stay here with me and Jennie. You’ve probably been so lonely for years, and honestly, I don’t want you to go.” He felt more vulnerable than he had in months, just as much as when he admitted his feelings for that boy back on the beach in California and feeling his stomach rise and fall with the waves. He just hoped that Eddie wouldn’t throw him in the deep end. 

“I never thought about that…” Eddie trailed off, as if he was unsure what to say, “I, I don’t think I wanna go either. Even if I can only hang around with you guys outside of the school building at night.” Eddie chewed his lower lip, waiting for Billy to say something, anything. 

“I uh… maybe…” Billy started to speak again but was interrupted by Jennie holding a leather cord with a guitar pick strung on it. “Found it in the box behind the throne,” she held the necklace out to Eddie. But I um… might have been eavesdropping and I don’t want you to go either Eddie.” Jennie blushed and turned away, like she had just admitted to having a crush.

Eddie looked happier than either Billy or Jennie had ever seen him, maybe there was a little tear in his eye but no one was going to bring attention to it. Maybe the afterlife didn’t have to be the end for Eddie Munson.

[mctives]

headcanon // billy

. they knew each other from the beginning, since woodsboro is pretty insular, but didn't interact much until middle school. stu's only real friend at the time was randy, so when billy started hanging out with him, he immediately became attached.

. stu always thought of billy as someone a lot better than he is; cooler, smarter, better-looking etc. he has this intense drive to prove himself 'worthy' of billy's attention, constantly trying to find ways to impress him. in fact, he was originally a grade ahead of billy, and part of why he was held back in 7th grade is billy dared him to pull the fire alarm and evacuate the school near the end of the year. this led to a suspension and stu's grades plummeting. he never told anyone he'd done it because of billy; he didn't want his parents to stop letting billy come over.

. in high school, with subtle coaxing from billy, stu improved his popularity by using his parents' big house and tendency to leave for days at a time to host parties. still, billy would remind him that most of the "friends" who came over didn't particularly like stu, but it was his house and he had beer, so that was generally enough. it was during this time that stu started to develop intense jealousy of the girls billy spent time with, even though his parties facilitated billy's romantic life.

. billy controlled stu mostly by giving or withholding attention. there would be days when billy would spend whole days with stu, sprinkling in plenty of approval and praise (though rarely directly). then, there were other days when he'd barely acknowledge stu was alive and would be sure to humiliate him at every opportunity. he didn't have to tell stu to do anything; he could just insinuate that he wanted something to happen, and stu would do it in the hopes of getting nice billy again.

. they started talking about carrying out the perfect murders early on. it was like a game for them. one of them would tell the other their plan, and the other would try to poke holes in that plan, and they'd start over again until their plan was airtight. sometimes, days later, they'd think of something else wrong with the plan and they'd ditch it try again. some of the plans were for killing someone specific, some were more general mass killings. eventually, billy focused in on maureen prescott. stu had no idea why, but billy claimed that no one would miss her because everyone knew she was a slut, and that they had the perfect scapegoat to take the fall so no one would even be looking for them.

. billy was the one who took point on killing maureen, but he made sure that stu stabbed her too (even though she was already dying), so he could take part in it and they had something that tied the two of them together. from stu's perspective, it meant that he had something with billy that no one else would ever have, and it gave him a thrill that he'd be chasing right until the end.

. once casey broke up with stu, stu had a lot of anger and resentment toward both casey and steve, and he began coming up with plans to murder them and get away with it, even though they'd previously dropped their "game" after killing maureen. stu never specifically planned to go through with these murders, but as they continued talking about it, and other murders they could get away with by framing themselves as neil prescott's victims, the more it felt inevitable.

. billy knew that stu liked tatum, and didn't really want her dead, but he convinced him that tatum had to be one of the victims, and set up the plan so that stu would be the one who send her to her death--but didn't trust that he'd actually be able to kill her if it came to that. billy would tell stu that they were going to kill sidney too, so it made sense that they had to kill tatum.

[phantaloon]

it's no big deal (i love you)

inspired by dodie's song of the same name. cw referenced sexual content, slight angst, hurt no comfort technically but is it really?

enjoy <3

it's morning now, but neil doesn't say anything.

because as much as he thinks it's not normal for him to stay over almost every night at this point for them to just be in it for the sex, because as much as this doesn't feel like casual sex for him anymore (did it ever?), and as hesitantly sure as he is that andrew would have thrown him out already if this was just casual for him too, he can't bring himself to say anything. he can't bring himself to say it.

instead they're in the shower. because "we can share the water to save it" started out as a joke but they do a bit more fucking that's too mellow to be called proper fucking, and when they're done and neil's brain feels like mush, andrew's hands are too gentle in the way they clean him up.

but still, they're just sharing the water. that's how they play it.

and the thing is that neil says other similar things some times. the times andrew's rearranging his insides making him feel so good, a loud "you're the best, fuck, you're the best, i-" comes out spilling out of his mouth without his permission. he barely stops himself from spilling out his soul in the midst.

and he knows the way andrew holds him afterwards screams that forbidden L word, he knows about andrew's past hookups, he knows how he used to push them away, for fuck's sake even roland told him andrew would never even engage in aftercare, simply leaving or demanding for them to leave his place as soon as they were done.

neil was only asked to leave the very first night.

neither has said the word, but it's okay, neil doesn't mind (he doesn't think about it when they're cuddling or when they're doing more lovemaking that fucking or when andrew's bringing him breakfast because he can't really move or when andrew's washing him gently or when-), he plays the dance.

he's willing to play it for the rest of his life, as long as andrew will have him.

and it's not that neil wouldn't say it first, really, because he would. it's just three words, it's just one quite honestly overrated word, that shouldn't mean as much as it does. love is quite simple, he knows he didn't have the best or healthiest examples of it, he knows he has no idea what it's like. but it's no big deal, really.

it's just a word.

it's just a word, he tries to convince himself, as andrew looks at him like that. those golden eyes, too used to apathy, but they betray him these times. because neil holds his breath and thinks those eyes, that look, they hold the answer to everything. and this, this feels good.

but it's normal, for this, whatever it is, to feel good, right? it's not big deal.

no part of this is a big deal

and it's a sunday, and the warmth of their andrew's bed and andrew's hands around his waist and-

he could be with the girls, his other friends. they're leaving soon. he should be with them. andrew could be with his family, with aaron, who's leaving soon too. their break can only last so long. they could be with other people except-

he feels it. he fucking knows it. he knows andrew feels it too.

"god i love you," says not one of them ever. not even in the half light, where they tease each other in more ways than one, where they take each other apart, where they make the other smile as much as people as broken as them know how to, where they hold each other.

"god i love you" would be far too easy. and since when have they done easy anyway.

and really, it's not that neil wouldn't say it first, fuck he would, it's no big fucking deal. he thinks of andrew's eyes and looks and held back breaths and everything good, and thinks "he could".

andrew's asleep still. neil can't be loud or else he'll wake him. his chest is bursting with the need to yell it but-

he'll say it here, inside his head instead. he'll tell andrew soon, he will. he will, he really will, when he feels ready feels confident feels like he won't mess it up feels like he's sure.

until then, he'll think it, he'll scream it from the highest point inside his mind, he'll scream it loudly and proudly and-

i love you

he'll say it here, fuck, he promises he'll tell andrew soon. he promises. until then he'll, just-

i love you

i love you

I LOVE YOU

not that he wouldn't say it first, because he would, he doesn't need for andrew to do it. it's no big deal.

he wants adrew to look at him like that, both of them holding their breaths, and they're both expecting the other to do it but-

he feels andrew's arm tighten around his waist. he feels him burrow his face deeper in neil's mess of curls. he feels more than he hears his small pleased hum.

and-

and it's good.

he turns just enough to look at andrew. he hasn't opened his eyes yet.

neil's heart is soaring, this is his chance, this is everything, andrew is everything and-

he smiles and hopes it looks sincere.

it's no big deal.

-

sorry for any mistakes i wrote this in an hour and didn't bother to revise <3 i just really missed writing bc i haven't had time or motivation lately, and ik it's really short and really simple but it made me happy to get back a bit

[inahallucination]

the poets dedicate their 20s to learning skills that they always wanted to know but their parents wouldn’t let them because they weren’t important or “manly” enough

just fun things like sewing, knitting, cooking, gardening, etc etc

//

neil learns to knit for the sole purpose of knitting todd sweaters

he’s already a decent cook though because he used to sneak into the kitchen with his mom when his dad was out of the house

he can take care of plants so that if todd can’t (if he’s sick or away) todd’s plants dont die

he learns how to sew too, but he generally prefers knitting

he also likes to knit silly hats for todd’s plants

he also likes to knit silly hats for charlie

all the poets have a neil perry special sweater

but no one has as many as todd

he also knits blankets because todd gets cold

he knits stuffed animals too and a lot of them are stored away for his and todd’s “kids when we’re emotionally and financially stable enough to adopt” 

//

todd learns to garden to pick flowers for neil 

he gardens other things too

he grows veggies and fruits and just cool non-flower plants that he likes

his veggies and fruits get collected and sent to the rest of the poets 

once one of the poets picked a flower from him and he hissed at them but like two minutes later he picked his own flowers to make neil a flower crown

favoritism 

todd already knows how to sew - he stole thread and a needle from his mom and tried to fix a shirt when he was young

he fucked it up but he ended up using it to practice, and the next time he ripped a shirt he fixed it

he fixes neil’s clothes

at welton he sewed ‘i love you’ into the sleeve of one of neil’s shirts (neil still has it)

he’s learning how to embroider 

he can’t cook but not for a lack of trying

he gives the poets plants and teaches them how to take care of them

//

charlie learns embroidery to make his clothes “extra charlie”

obviously

charlie also learned how to cook but his skills vary

like he can only make dishes he really really likes

everything else is....

it’s better if he’s not in the kitchen unless he’s there to cook his favorites

once cameron didn’t go through with a dare so charlie stole his shirt and embroidered a chicken into it but cameron didn’t even acknowledge that he was being insulted because he was genuinely awed by charlie’s skill

charlie knows he’s good but every time someone compliments him on it he gets all blushy

todd told him once that he was “really cool” after seeing him work and he threw a pillow at his face

he’s teaching todd how to embroider btw

//

cameron learns to sew for practical reasons

its just easy and convenient to be able to fix tears in his clothes tbh

he learns to cook too for the same reasons

he doesn’t particularly care of them as much as the others - he really just learns the skills because he thinks that they’re skills everyone should know

cooking and sewing can be relaxing after a long day tho 

but still its mostly just practical reasoning

//

meeks and pitts learn to cook for experimental reasons

they’re both fine cooks on their own but put them together and shit will blow up or come out looking like it could kill you

//

the first thing meeks learns to make is tea

the second is pancakes 

like cameron a lot of his skills are learned because they’re practical skills to know

he actively makes fun of people who don’t learn them because theyre too “girly” btw just thought you should know (neil and todd’s dads in particular)

but cooking is something he just really likes

it takes him 3 days but he learns pitts favorite dish that his mom made after he confesses how much he misses it 

//

pitts convinces neil to teach him to knit solely for the purpose of making his and meeks’ robot kids tiny sweaters

thats all he ever makes

he knows how to cook because meeks gets invested in his stuff and despite being a good cook and liking to cook, somehow forgets to eat

he also knows about plants because he sometimes helps carry todd’s 27534875 giant ass plants from the car to his apartment/house

i think pitts is lowkey the kind of guy to learn a little of everything so his friends can ramble about it to him tbh tbh

he tries and tries but he just doesn’t have the patience to embroider and he’s really surprised that charlie does

he actually knew how to sew since welton and often times when meeks accidently ripped his uniform because it got caught on like a loose nail on their invention, he’d fix it 

(he never told meeks but since pitts hates getting yelled at, he was worried that meeks would get yelled at too and since meeks and him made a lot of stuff and meeks clothes would often get tears into them, he would spend any minute away from meeks to learn. because he didn’t want him to get in trouble)

//

canon knox probably wouldn’t learn shit tbh tbh

fanon knox however, is the kind of person to learn everything he can so his “future wife doesn’t have to worry”

thats his only motivation tbh tbh

he makes really good pie btw

//

anyway back to anderperry

neil cooks for todd and his “secret ingredient” is love 

neil may knit mostly for todd but he also knits himself sweaters (though todd steals his sweaters all the time so perhaps those are just for todd too)

todd refers to his plants as his and neil’s kids and never notices how red neil turns

neil thinks that todd doesn’t know about the toys he’s saving for their future kids but he does and todd thinks its the sweetest thing in the world

todd gets into the habit of sewing little messages into neil’s clothes

most of the fruits and veggies that todd grows are neil’s favorites

[twopoppies]

hii, I hope you're taking care of yourself:))

I have a question regarding our lives, non-fiction - everyone is absolutely in love with it and I reaaaally want to read it but there's some sort of barrier in my brain that makes me think I won't be able to get used to the name Marcel being used for H in what I presume would be a major part of the fic. Did you have any problems with that? Did it take you some time to get used to? I'm so stubborn sometimes 🫠

Hi honey. Okay, I want you to look at it this way. First of all, he does not look like Marcel from the music video. So get that out of your head. This is Marcel in this fic:

Second, the reason he is Marcel and not Harry is that his character is meant to be an awkward, insecure virgin who finds himself through fandom and fanfiction. It seems a lot more difficult to imagine Harry as that person, than to imagine “Marcel”.

Read the fic, honey. It’s truly one of the best things I’ve read in years.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 114K)

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

[pipedreil]

to whom it may aggravate

read it on ao3

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?????

Kindest regards,

Kevin Day

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

First of all, yes, I am, but you already knew that, so I don't know why you asked. Second of all, if this is about what I think it is, are you going to tell me I'm wrong? You've seen the interviews. Evans has been talking shit about me for weeks. Would a smart man have not taken the opportunity to say something back?

With love,

Neil <3

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

YES. There is a difference between defending yourself and saying, and I quote, "While I appreciate the constructive criticism, Carl, I'm going to have to pass on shoving my exy stick up my ass. Did you follow your own advice? Is that why you move around the court like you have a 12-inch pole up there? My mother could play better than you, and I burned her body and buried it in the sand."

You are completely fucking crazy. Are you trying to lose your career? Do you want to die? Because that's what will happen when you lose your position. Ichirou will kill you, and then he'll kill me for not preventing your mess. I can't keep defending you like this.

Exhaustingly yours,

Kevin-extremely-tired-of-your-shit-Day

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

Andrew is laughing. You just told me I'm going to die, and Andrew is laughing. Are you still single? I'm feeling extremely unloved and unappreciated right now and I want someone who will treat me right.

Anyway, I don't think Evans will respond because he's a little bitch, so we should be OK *thumbs up*.

I asked Drew how to put the little pictures in messages and he laughed at me again. I really am going to leave him. Do you want to come over for dinner? Maybe seeing me with a new man will make him realize how lucky he is to have me.

Your new bf,

Neil ;)

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

I am in Washington. You are in Colorado. I am in another state and you want me to come over for dinner?

I'll be there on Friday if you can convince Andrew to make that pasta from last time.

As for your other question, no, I am not "still single" and you knew that. Jean and I skyped with you and Andrew literally last night. Nice color on the kitchen walls, by the way. Much better than that shit green color you used to have (do NOT tell Andrew I said that). Next, you should change the orange walls in the guest bedroom before I have a heart attack.

Un-Bitchless,

Kevin

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

First, you make demands about what should be on the dinner menu and then you insult my home? I don't want to be your boyfriend, after all. You're worse than Andrew. I'll be sending Jean my sincerest apologies.

Also, I told him. He says to watch your back when you come over. You didn't hear it from me but I think he plans on coloring all of your white clothing in with black marker. Maybe pack only dark clothing? I don't think we have enough stain remover.

Oh yeah, I forgot about Jean. Well, not really, but you guys had that weird period of time where you were dating-not-dating, so sometimes I forget you're dating-dating now. How is he doing? Still French? I can't believe you fell for a French man, that's so embarrassing. That's like falling for a British man, but slightly better. Thank God Jean isn't British.

I asked Andrew to imagine Jean with a British accent and now he's laughing. Do you think I should switch my day job to being a comedian?

Ha. Day.

Anyway, reply to my text message. I sent you a link to a documentary on birds and you didn't even have the decency to leave me on read. Bitch.

Definitely not British,

Neil

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

I can not believe I was foolish enough to think you would actually recommend, much less watch, a documentary on actual birds. This is about the Birds Aren't Real movement.

The birds are not watching you through your windows and reporting back to the government, Neil.

You're dead to me. Andrew has been blowing up my phone all day with vaguely threatening and very disturbing images. My captain saw one on accident earlier and now she won't look me in the eye. Where does he even find these things? Do you think he takes them himself? Maybe that's what he's doing when he's out there driving his asshole car by himself.

. . . Don't tell him I said that either.

Yes, Jean is still French. You talk big for someone who is most definitely British, Mr. Josten. Don't think I've forgotten your mother's side of the family. You can't escape.

Not British OR French,

Kevin

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

Ok, but are you going to tell me that you didn't enjoy the documentary? You watched the entire thing, didn't you? ;)

You don't know that. Just this morning I was watering the plants on the balcony and there was a bird on the railing, watching me with its beady eyes. It didn't move. I know it was a robot.

Just this once, I'll keep my mouth shut and only because I don't want to have to listen to you bitch when you come over and he won't let you drive the car anymore. Speaking of, hurry up and book your flight already. Sir keeps pawing at the door to the guest bedroom. She hasn't seen her uncle in weeks. You've abandoned her.

(Don't think I don't know that you bribed her for her love with treats. You sick, sick man.)

Bird hater,

Neil

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.

I booked my flight for early tomorrow morning so I should be there by the afternoon. We should get lunch at that sandwich place we went to last time. The one a block from your apartment, not the one near the mall. One of the waitresses keeps writing her number on all of my napkins despite me telling her multiple times that I'm taken. Jean finds it hilarious. Traitor.

I will not let you spread lies about me. It's not my fault that I'm a cat whisperer and Sir and King took to me immediately. Do you think I could teach them to play exy? I wonder if I could create a cat exy league.

Sir's favorite,

Kevin

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

You are NOT Sir's favorite!!!! Stay away from my daughter!!

I'll still be at practice when you get in so Andrew will pick you up at the airport, but I'll be done by the time you guys get back so we can still get lunch.

I agree with Jean, it IS hilarious. Especially when you get all red like a tomato, it's cute. OMG, I should send Jean all the pictures I took. I bet he'd appreciate them.

Kevin. My dear friend. I do not say this often, and you know this, so I think you will under the gravity of this situation.

You are a genius.

Do you think they sell cat-sized jerseys, or will we have to get them custom made? We're going to have to find other cats to enlist in our team. Do you know any?

Andrew just read this over my shoulder and said he hates the both of us and he'll never make his pasta for us again if we go through with it.

(We'll do it when he's not home.)

Oops. He saw that too.

I'll convince him, don't worry. I think we're on to something.

First ever cat exy team manager,

Neil

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

Sorry, I was bust packing for most of the night then Jean and I watched a movie. Do NOT send Jean those photos. He'll never leave me alone.

Andrew just picked me up and he keeps giving me the side eye. I think he's still sour about the comments about your choice in wall color. He can't be too mad though because I managed to convince him to let me connect to the bluetooth.

Andrew would like me to inform you that I have bad music taste.

He's a liar. If he hated it, he would've turned it off by now. I even caught him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel a few times.

Andrew would also like me to inform you that I'm making that up.

(I'm not.)

I asked Jean and he thinks we'll have to get the jerseys custom made, but that's not the biggest issue. What about the sticks? Do we teach them to hold miniature ones, or do we change up the rules? I think a few of my teammates have cats. Not sure if they'd be interested, though. If they say no, I can get Jean to say ominous things to them in French.

With impeccable music taste,

Kevin

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

Don't tell Andrew I told you this, but I've heard some of the songs you've recommended him on his playlists. He's probably just too embarrassed to admit you have good taste. What a silly little man

(ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TELL HIM I CALLED HIM THAT.)

Anyway. I refuse to be vulnerable in person so you will read this only in this email and will not mention it to me verbally at all.

I missed having you around.

It's nice living with Andrew obviously, but sometimes I get a little nostalgic about how things were in college. You're annoying as all hell, but you're also my best friend. It sucks that you're three states away. You're kicking ass out there though!

I'm proud of you.

Uh.

I think teaching cats to hold sticks would be too hard. We should probably just change the rules around a little.

Best bestie in the world,

Neil

to: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

from: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

You're so shitty. If Andrew walks in on me tearing up in your kitchen right now I'll never forgive you.

I've missed having you around too.

My new teammates are great and all, but no one gets on my last nerve like you do. Sometimes, in the middle of a game, I'll turn around to pass and expect you to be right there, waiting to catch it.

Actually, I feel like this is as good as a time as any. I'm transferring to the Denver Bulldogs next season. Jean and I have been looking around and we've finally found a place to live. It's actually just a few blocks away from your apartment.

Also.

Jean and I are getting married. Don't give me shit for not telling you, he only asked me like. Two days ago. And I may have had a slight breakdown. But we're fine.

Jean will never let me hear the end of it for asking you over email but.

Will you be my best man?

Best-best bestie in the world,

Kevin

to: kevinday@seattlestingrays.com

from: njosten@denverbulldogs.com

ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?????

Of course I will, dumbass. I'm going to join you in crying in the kitchen. And to hit you for asking me over email.

The best best man,

Neil

[hello-nichya-here]

How NOT to write romance - How I Met Your Mother edition

Warning: long-ass post and lots of bitterness over a TV show that ended nearly eight years ago.

Basics for story-telling

If the romance you want to write is dysfunctional, fucking embrace it and have fun with the concept instead of pretending the bad shit the characters do is okay because “it’s true love”

Acknowledgde that your main character has flaws instead of acting like he is a saint who can do no wrong for no reason other than “he is the main character. Definitively don’t make him do, of his own free will, the exact exact same things the supposedly “selfish and cruel” womanizer does and then excuse it as him having “succumbed to/been tricked by a bad influece” like he’s child who doesn’t know any better instead of being a grown ass adult.

Don’t make your characters be annoying, entitled fuckers who think they have the right to judge others for wanting different things out of a relationship/not wanting a relationship at all. Don’t act like monogamy, double dates with other couples, marriage and children are something EVERYONE secretly wants deep down.

Don’t demonize the “evil” character of the group and act like the “heroes” being appalled by the shit he does is anything other than hypocricy. There’s literally nothing forcing them to be friends with him, so they’re obviously not as horrified at bad shit he does as they say they are, otherwise they would have ditched him a long time ago.

Don’t have the “heartless womanizer”,  who we later find out is the ex-husband of the girl the lead wanted for himself, be shown to us exclusively through the eyes of the an unreliable narrator who had motivation to make him see worse than he is likely to be (get his kids to want him to get the girl instead of the “douchebag”). Also, don’t make his schemes to trick women into sleeping with them so completely absurd and ridiculous that the audience is pretty sure that 70% of the women he banged were completely aware he just wanted a quick fuck and went along with it anyway because they wanted some dick (and because the character is played by Neil Patric Harris, who is incapable of not being charismatic)

Fucking let you characters (especially the supposed hero we’re supposed to think is the best boyfriend ever) grow instead of making them constantly repeat the same mistakes

Lily and Marshall

Don’t make one of the characters hide something very important from their partner, and then have the audacity to be mad at them for “just not understanding” as if they were given any reason to understand what the problem even is

Don’t act like someone being heartbroken that their partner lied to them and practically made a plan to “escape” being married to them means they’re not being “supportive” of said partners dream - you should especially not do that after we were shown that they took a job they didn’t like just to make sure they’d have a secure future that would allow said partner to follow their dream.

Don’t have the character who was obviously in the wrong need to be convinced to get their shit together and apologize to their ex.

If a character forgave the ex who wronged them and even got back together with them, don’t have them constantly hold their past mistakes over their head like it that problem has not already been solved - you especially not make them do that on what was supposed to be their wedding day. They can either forgive their partner or not, they can’t keep going back and forth.

Don’t have them constantly hide important shit from each other (having a huge financial debt, getting a job, etc)

DO NOT have the character who fucked up years prior suddenly be willing to do the same shit again for the EXACT same reason (”I think our relationship is in the way of my dreams and I’m now completely isolated because I refuse to talk things out with you”) and then expect the audience to sympathize with them.

Ted and Robin 

Unless you’re writing a Disney/Disney-esque romance, don’t have your lead just look at someone across the room, decide they’re “The one”, imagine their life together and full on say “I’m love with you” AND “I love you” on the first goddamn date.

Don’t have the lead stalk his love interest, and throw three parties in a row just to have an excuse to get close to her now that she made it clear she is not interested in having a relationship with him.

Don’t have the “hero” lie about having broken up with his girlfriend so the girl he wants to be with will sleep with him, and then have him blame his actions on time. “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” Grow a pair of balls, Ted!

If one of the characters says “You’re going too fast on the whole ‘love’ thing. Can’t we just go on a few dates and see what happens instead of already starting to plan our lives together?” and the others throws a fit, that is called “being incompatible” and “damn, this dude doesn’t respect boundaries”, not “Wow, she’s so afraid of commitment”

If you want the audience to believe the main character’s feelings are not one-sided, don’t make the fact that said feelings ARE unrequited a running joke, and don’t have the girl only accept giving him a chance after having to deal with the fucker whining “But I love you” for months and/or after going through bad break ups. Also, if you have to retcon half the fucking show to “proove” that “she DOES love him”, that pairing fucking sucks.

Don’t compare the couple you want the audience to root for to the main character’s divorced, dysfunctional parents, and don’t have flashbacks showing that the lead had no clue what his girlfriend actually liked in bed AND that she literally covered up his face so she could pretend she was fucking someone else.

DON’T MAKE HER GET RID OF HER DOGS, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!

If your lead character is still jealous/possessive of his ex, thinks he still has a chance even after she told him to his face that she didn’t love him, and acts like she and her fiance (who he says is his friend) being happy is somehow them being selfish and cruel, your lead character is a loser AND an asshole.

Don’t throw away the entire premise of the show (Ted finding the REAL love of his life) just to force a bad pairing down the audience’s throat

Ted Mosby in general

Don’t have your “romantic, sensitive hero” break up with a girl on her birthday through an answering machine, come back into her life without warning years later because he’s afraid he’ll die alone, and find out that she never heard the message but was actually told about it by her friends and family who were at her apartment preparing a surprise party for her. You should especially not make his first reaction to this new be being mad that he was not invited to the party, and for the love of God, don’t make him break up with her on her birthday AGAIN.

Don’t have the “hero” cheat on his girlfriend and excuse it with bullshit like “Nothing good happens 2 a.m.” and “But I genuinely love Robin so it’s okay that I’m lying to both of them”. Do not, I repeat, do NOT have him blame it on his girlfriend being distant when she didn’t pick up the phone one night and then called back the second she was free to do so, while he was enjoying the gifts she sent him and LIED to her about having sent her some as well.

Don’t fucking make an entire episode with the premise of him turning a no into a yes - and telling that story to his children like it’s romantic.

Don’t have his fiance, who he knows has a rocky relationship with the father of her daughter, tell him she is uncomfortable with him inviting his ex to their wedding and then have him decide “This means I should invite her ex as well”. Also don’t expect me to feel bad for him when she runs off with said ex.

Don’t have him spend YEARS waiting for one of the hundreds of girls he thinks is “the one” to be single and even ask her neighbour to spy on her and let him know when/if she breaks up with her boyfriend - again, for YEARS.

Don’t have the lead say he’s gonna tell their kids about his love story with their DECEASED mother, only for it to secretly be an excuse for him to go “By the way, I’m still in love with aunt Robin despite her having rejected me for 25 years, can I go screw her?”

Don’t act like making the characters reverse back into who they were at the beginning at the story means they’re gonna make things work this time when the whole point of their break up in the beginning on the story was the fact that they’re just not right for each other.

Robin and Kevin

A therapist who was supposed to help their patient move on after a bad break up that messed them up, dating said patient is a major red flag. It is also a bad sign that, when she cheats on him and wants to break up, he realized what she was doing to used his job as “evidence” that he knew better and that she should NOT tell her partner how she felt/what she actually wanted.

Do NOT have said therapist date yet ANOTHER patient that asked him help to move on from a bad break up. Seriously, Kevin was a creep, stop acting like he was some angel who “deserved better than Robin.”

BONUS: How NOT to break up a couple - Barney and Robin edition

Don’t act like their relationship falling appart after their friends kept meddling, and even kept them locked in a room against their will until they labeled their relationship as something they aproved of, is somehow “proof” that they’re not good for each other.

Don’t retcon their relationship to force a break up (seriously, Barney was super supportive of Robin long before he even fell in love with her, but I’m supposed to believe he’d be a bad boyfriend who is never there for her? And he loved advantures and always said “challenge accepted”, but was suddenly miserable travelling the world with her and couldn’t deal with not having wi-fi at the hotel? Fuck off)

Don’t spend an entire season focusing on their wedding, have them get married and then divorce THE NEXT FUCKING EPISODE! Why do you hate your audience? Even people who don’t want them together can see this a terrible idea.

And most important of all, when people question what the fuck were you thinking, don’t have a meltdown on twitter and say that people who think Barney can change are responsible for Donald Trump being elected, you fucking weirdo, go see a therapist (that isn’t like Kevin)

[professionalfangirl24601]

What if instead of pain, soulmates could feel each other's happiness? What if Neil and Andrew thought that they didn't have a soulmate because as long as they've remembered they've never felt truly happy? They've convinced themselves that the little jumps of their hearts in their early childhoods were just products of their imaginations. Or they hoped that their soulmate had died because they knew what life without joy was like and wouldn't wish it on anyone, let alone someone who was meant to be special to them. When Neil and Andrew met everything stayed the same. Neil was too afraid to let himself be happy and the magical bond between the soulmates was smart enough to see the difference between real happiness and the artificial one that Andrew's meds provided. Even after Andrew came off his meds he felt the shadow of the feeling that people described they felt when their soulmate was happy, but he always brushed it off and blamed it on his meds. He didn't miss that it usually happened after winning a game, while the whole team was hanging out together, or when Neil left him speechless. So Andrew and Neil started hooking up not knowing that they were soulmates.

Sure, Andrew suspected it, but he didn't want to believe it. He had worked so hard to not rely on that slimmer hope in his childhood, convincing himself that he couldn't have a soulmate, that someone as soulless as him didn't deserve one. He was resigned to his fate and told himself that it was better this way, he would have fewer vulnerabilities without one. So he repeated to himself that Neil meant nothing until he believed it. Neil never had enough proof to doubt his previous belief. The one that his mother ingrained into his brain so deeply. He never even felt the regular kind of attraction so it would make sense that he didn't have a magical bond connecting his soul to someone else either. He knew that even if he had one, the chance of meeting them was very slim and the idea of staying with them wasn't even on the table. Not only would it kill him, but it would put them in danger too. So it was easy to think he was all alone in the world. It all changed when Neil got kidnapped and Andrew admitted that he meant something to him. After they met in the hotel and Andrew told Neil to stay, he felt an undeniable ache in his heart, it was familiar but still strange to feel. This time Andrew didn't brush it off, he latched onto it and tried to memorize how it felt. He felt the proof of Neil's happiness and something in him settled. It became more and more common as time went by. Staying in the cabin with the foxes, Neil making the deal with the Moriyamas, winning the game after game, seeing Kevin's new tattoo, and beating the ravens in the finals. Andrew got used to it and eventually started relishing it. The only thing that made him stop searching for Neil after he disappeared was the feeling in his chest, saying it was okay, more than okay actually. So when Neil came in grinning from ear to ear and said stupid things that meant "I know you like me", Andrew couldn't bring himself to ruin it by saying something that wasn't even true. Years later Neil started feeling tightness in his chest. He couldn't tell what it was. It didn't feel like how he usually felt happiness or sadness. It happened in the most random moments too like, when he was sitting in silence with Andrew, or played with the cat. At first, he thought he had some kind of heart disease. It would be unfortunate if that was the case since he survived the mafia just to get killed by his own heart. He worked out regularly and ate healthy food so it must have been genetic. He had always hated his father's genetics. He didn't know if Nathan's family had a history of heart disease, but Mary wouldn't do this to him. Going to the doctor would be kind of pointless. What if they said he couldn't play exy anymore? That would be the same as death for Neil, and he wasn't even being dramatic. Neil figured he would save everyone time and energy if he let his heart do all the work. In the end, he decided that dying from a natural cause was better than getting killed, so he accepted it. He told Andrew, so he wouldn't be surprised when Neil randomly died. Andrew looked at him and asked him to describe how he felt, so Neil did. After an exasperated sigh, Andrew told him that he wasn't going to explain something that 4 years old children already knew to a grown man. At Neil's confused look Andrew told him to figure it out by himself and also to stop worrying about stupid things. Neil did, eventually, but not without the Foxes' help. They were surprised that Neil didn't know he and Andrew were soulmates, but given their past most of them they didn't say anything. Neil thought that he already knew Andrew was the one he wanted to spent the rest of his life with, it didn't matter if they were soulmates or not, but he didn't tell them that. Andrew was a different story, though.

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

hi me again the travis obsessed one Heres a little au i've had for a while;

After a year of the boys trying to get Travis to get away from his father, Travis had always refused. There automatic thought was that he had been taught what his father was doing was right, or he was just scared. (Well they were right, but still) But it turns out Travis had a little sister! (Her name is Treasure) Nobody really knew it was his sister at all until they saw him picking her up from daycare in a thunderstorm. After the boys found out, they tried convincing Travis to have her put into a foster home so he could leave as-well

Travis absolutely would flip his shit

He would get defensive since Kenneth probably already threatens to do that whenever Travis doesn’t come home. Probably attempted too when Travis first started hanging around the kids he didn’t like.

He would accuse them of trying to get rid of her. She’s innocent! She’s just a baby!! He can’t risk her getting sent to one of the terrible families that hurt the kids or use them for personal gain.

Of course Sal talks him back into reality, that he and Larry would never do something to hurt the child, let alone Travis. They know she’s the closest thing to Travis’ heart and if she were hurt on their watch he’d never love trust them!!

Kenneth is fuming when Travis doesn’t acknowledge his aggression. Heated that the boy is blatantly ignoring him. How dare he!! Kenneth puts a roof over his head and food in his mouth how dare he say he’s living with the kid!! He would attack Travis, try to use the old ‘beat to submission’ tactic. But Travis is older and smarter now. He knows Kenneth’s attack style and dodges calmly while calling the agent Sal introduced him too.

Treasure is a delight. She’s small and sweet but impossibly shy. She was very young, the product of Kenneth having another affair with a church goer. Not that his wife seemed to care. She was too busy being doled up on the couch. Treasure resembled the woman more so than anyone else. Pale skin, big brown eyes and deep red hair. Her and Travis looked nothing alike. Yet she clung to Travis like a koala. Her worst tantrums came when Kenneth would try to remove her to attack or harass Travis.

When she was introduced to the child services agent and the boys, she only looked at Travis for reassurance once before recognizing them as nice people. Though, just like Travis, iffy around the agent.

Larry was older and could technically offer to take her. But he didn’t have the stable income needed to care for a child. Sal was off the market for many many reasons. Travis never was told who would take her in as it was supposed to be a surprise.

However the surprise was short lived when Todd Neil and Treasure came for a visit to Travis’ new home after hearing how badly the separation had taken a toll on him. Todd agreed to foster her with Neil until Travis is able to financially support himself and her.

Treasure going ghost hunting with Big Bro Sal and accidentally seeing the demon. Doesn’t panic just grabs her hair and say they match :D

Larry jamming out with his band and often has Treasure and Travis watch. One: to show off to his awkward boyfriend. Two: to show off to his adorable new little sister!

Kenneth would use Treasures removal as a ploy in the church that god will have plans for all children. That she was sent off to make other families happier. Covering his tracks of infidelity and losing custody of his own kid!

[rostovs-lover]

dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library. 

                            ───☮︎───

     Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

      It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

      It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

      Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

      Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

      The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

      Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

      “Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

      “Bearington?”

      Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

      “A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

      He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

      “Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

      He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

      “A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

      Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

      “That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

      His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

      You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

      “Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

      “Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

      “What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

      As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

      “Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

      You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

      He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

      The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

      The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

      You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

      “Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

      “Do you want me to guess?”

      You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

      “Are you gonna tell me?”

      “Should I?”

      “Obviously, I told you my name.”

      You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

      “Pretty,”

      Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

      Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

      “You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

      You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

      “Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

      “So you just chose to ignore it?”

      He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

      You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

      “Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

      You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

      “Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

      “You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

      “Maybe I want your ear,”

      You paused, “You… what?”

      Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

      “I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

      Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

      You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

      “Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

      You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

      Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

      You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

      Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

      “Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

      He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

      You grinned, “I might,”

      “I’m begging,”

      “Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

      Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

          “Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

      Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

      “Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

      Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

      “You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

      “Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

      “You better be,”

      Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

      Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

      “Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

      Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

      “Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

      “If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

      “Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

      Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

      Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

      Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

      “He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

      Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

      “Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

      He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

      He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

      Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

      Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

      “Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

      Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

      “It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

      “Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

      Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

      Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

 ( @interwebseriesfan24 )

[mypoisonedvine]

Time After Time | dark!Neil (Tenet) x reader

summary: it’s tricky when feelings get involved in an organization like tenet.  still, you’ve never been happier than you are with your boyfriend Neil, even if he’s a bit elusive and a very erratic coworker.  for all his secrets, you never expected what he would tell you the day he finally proposed.

word count: 5.5k

warnings:  smut!! (dub con, for extremely complex reasons), almost kinda stockholm syndrome?, yandere/soft!dark neil, breeding kink, confusing time travel stuff

"What are we doing here?” you asked as you looked around the safehouse— like any secret Tenet hideaway, it was sleek but sterile, nestled in a historic neighborhood in southeastern Moscow.  It was sort of how you remembered from the last time you’d been here for work, but somebody had rearranged the living room and changed out the rug.  (Knowing the nature of your business, you were pretty confident you knew why the rug was replaced.)  

Neil had made it clear that you weren’t coming here for a mission, but never said what you were here for, and had kept up the veil of secrecy all week long.  At first, you had assumed that since tomorrow was your four-year dating anniversary, it must have something to do with that, but the more you pondered the potential options, the more you were unsure.

You turned to look at him and found him wearing his signature smirk, the one that made you sure he was up to something— but you still didn’t know what.

“Seriously, Neil, just tell me!” you pleaded with a laugh, shoving him playfully.  

“We’re here,” he explained slowly, “because I need to ask you something.”

He sank down onto one knee, clutching your hand in his, as you looked down at him with wide eyes.  "Oh— oh my god,” you barely managed to stammer, entirely breathless.

“As soon as I met you, I knew you were the love of my life,” Neil began with that smile of his that always melted your heart.  “I knew that I had to do everything in my power to make you as happy as you make me, to have you with me until the end of time— whenever that actually comes.”

You laughed a little, but it fell into a sob of joy as he reached into his jacket and pulled a ring out of his pocket, brandishing it to you.

“Darling, will you be my wife?” he asked, almost sounding like he was a little nervous that you’d say ‘no’, for some reason.

“Neil,” you whispered, “of course— yes, yes!”

He popped up and kissed you, smiling too hard for it to be a very effective kiss, though it was a perfect one nonetheless.  You felt him slip the ring on your finger and you felt like you were floating on air.  It was even more surreal than the first time you were inverted.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he admitted with a sigh of relief against your lips.  You pulled back from the kiss and looked up at him, bewildered but overjoyed.  

“Were you really worried I’d say no?” you scoffed incredulously.

“Terrified,” he laughed, and you laughed too, kissing him again quickly before launching into the first of so many questions you wanted to ask.

“When did you— how did you—?”

“I got the ring last month,” he explained.  “I thought about waiting longer but I was so tired of hiding it from you.  Then it was just a matter of getting you here.”

“Don’t take this as me criticizing your proposal,” you giggled, “but I have to ask: why here?”

He sighed a little, smirking slightly, and looked away before catching your gaze again.  “You’re gonna think I’m a bit crazy—”

“Already do, continue,” you winked.

“But this is where we first met.”

He was right; you did think he was crazy.  You furrowed your brow and laughed nervously.  “Neil, we met at a coffee shop, the one by my old apartment.  I didn’t work here then, you recruited me yourself.”

He chuckled slightly, turning your confusion into an eerie sense of nervousness.  “Sometimes you amaze me with your naivete, darling.  This is where we first met, the first time.”

Gingerly, you pulled your hands away from his.

“I didn’t recruit you, originally.  I was here, working, when a close friend of mine came in and introduced me to the newest member of the team.  It was you… and you captured my heart, instantly.  Only problem was…" he trailed off, chewing his lip as he glanced away.

“Tell me, Neil,” you demanded quietly.

“You’d captured someone else’s heart, too.  And he had already married you.”

You stood up instantly, walking away a little before turning back to stare at him in bewilderment.  You couldn’t believe what you were hearing; you could hardly stand on your wobbly legs anymore.  “I… I had a husband?”

“Yeah, met him once; seemed like a nice guy,” he shrugged.  “But he wasn’t right for you.”

“And how’s that?”

“Because he wasn’t me.”

You shook your head, terrified to imagine the ways Neil had tampered with the flow of time for something as trivial as an infatuation with you.

“I tried to hide my feelings for you, darling, really; we were just coworkers for a long time, I kept it strictly professional.  But the more I got to know you, the more I grew to love you.  I knew I couldn’t be happy just being your friend— you’re my everything.  I tried to tell you— but you wouldn’t listen,” he shook his head.  “You told me you loved your husband.  You told me you had just found out you were pregnant.”

His words hit you like a train and you stumbled back slightly, bracing yourself against a credenza to try to keep from falling to the floor.

“I realized I had to go back,” he continued, becoming a bit more passionate as he explained his plan.  “You couldn’t be convinced if you were pregnant with his child.  But if I was going to invert myself to try to confess my love for you sooner, I figured it would be easiest if I took it a step further and avoided the whole marriage itself.  You had told me once about the day you met him.  So, I went and found you in that coffeeshop, the day before.  And I recruited you to Tenet.  Truth was, we could’ve used you a lot sooner, so it was advantageous to the organization as well— which is why I got approved to be inverted by the boss himself.”

That hurt.  He was Neil’s friend, but he was your friend, too.  Had he known that when Neil went back to recruit you, he would irreparably alter the course of your life?  Or had he only realized later and decided not to try to correct it?

“Don’t look so heartbroken, darling,” he pouted, stepping forward and reaching out to gently rub your shoulder.  “We’re finally together.  Things are finally the way they should’ve been from the very beginning.”

You pushed his hand away and averted your gaze, unable to look at him anymore.  "I'm sorry, Neil, I can't do this— I can't live a lie," you shook your head, beginning to step away.

“No, you can’t go,” he breathed, desperation apparent in his tone along with his expression.  “You can’t go!  I finally got it right this time!”

“Is that why you were afraid I’d say no?” you realized with wide, watery eyes.  “Because I said it before?”

“Yes,” he admitted, faster than you expected.  “But—”

“How many times?”

There came the silence, his nostrils flaring as he crossed his arms and looked away.

“How many times did I reject your proposal, Neil?”

“...Fourteen.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed, “Neil, you— you never gave me a choice, did you?  From the beginning?  Every time I tried to get away from you—”

“You always knew you belonged with me,” he posited fiercely.  “You always knew, it was why you kissed me that night, a year from now, on the bridge in Oslo.”

“That wasn’t me!” you cried.  “I was never married, Neil, I was never pregnant, I never kissed you on any godforsaken bridge!  You undid it all, and now you’re holding what I never did against me?”

“Even then you knew we were meant to be together,” he explained, stepping a little closer; out of love for the man you thought he was, you had a moment of sympathy for the man he had become, and let him pull you closer and cradle your face in his hands.  He wiped a stray tear from your cheek as he smiled down at you.

It almost felt right for a moment, but you couldn’t trick yourself into believing this was anything but wrong.  "I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry," you whispered hoarsely as you turned to walk away— but he chased you and spun you back around, overpowering you as you tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“After everything I did for you,” he growled, grabbing your wrists tightly when you tried to get away, “you can’t just walk away from me.”

“You didn’t do any of this for me, Neil,” you spat as you struggled, “you did this for yourself.  You stole my life!”

“I saw your life, it was shit without me, okay?”

"But at least it was mine!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you to the wall, making you yelp as he glared at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.  “I’ll just go back and do it again.  I’ll do it a million times until you stay with me forever, I swear.  So what’s the use in fighting me?  You’ll say yes, eventually.  Why don’t you save us both some time— in a sense— and just accept it now?”

This was a side of Neil you hadn’t seen before.  He wasn’t livid, he wasn’t violent (at least, not to the level you knew he could be), but he was undoubtedly threatening you… and you knew that he was right.  More than ever you were sure that he was going to keep doing this, keep taking you through the same loop until he got the outcome he wanted.  It was horrifying to imagine, but at least this way you could know the truth.  Maybe you could even find a way to escape him someday— you couldn’t even imagine how, but you might come up with something later.  You had all the time in the world, after all.

He softened slightly as he must have realized you were considering it, reaching down to pull your hands into his.  You glanced over at the sparkling diamond on your ring finger, remembering how ecstatic you had been to wear it just a few minutes ago.  Now it was a tiny gold shackle, each glimmer of the stone like a silent taunt.

Devastated, but with nowhere else to turn, you began to sob and allowed him to embrace you and pull you into him.  He held you close as you cried into his shoulder, terrified and confused and seeking comfort even if it was from the man who had imprisoned you in time.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s going to be alright, darling, take some deep breaths for me.  Can you do that?  In—” he inflated his chest, guiding you to breathe with him, which you did to the best of your ability—” and out…”

Smooth breaths were difficult with sobs vibrating your lungs, but you eventually managed to stabilize yourself as he guided you through a few more.  You resented that he knew you so well to be able to calm you down; you resented that your body trusted him enough for it to actually work.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, “you’re okay, it’s okay…”

~

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating the way your face looked through the lacy white veil.  Silently, you wondered if this was how you looked at your first wedding; the one that never really happened, to the man you never got the chance to meet.  You liked to imagine that you looked happier than this, that your eyes were filled with excitement rather than resignation.  

A knock at the door didn’t even tear you from your trance, nor did the sound of it opening; only Neil’s reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror made you snap back into reality, if only slightly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your ear.

“Bad luck…” you mumbled.  “It’s bad luck,” you began again, “for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck for a lifetime already,” he joked, making you furrow your brow and turn around, looking up at him.

He bore a startling resemblance to the man you’d fallen in love with, to the man you’d been ecstatic to marry when he got down on one knee for you in a nearly-abandoned safehouse in Moscow.  Even the way he smiled at you, his gaze so gentle as it scanned your face, was exactly the way he’d looked at you a thousand times— when you first met, as well.  The first time for you, at least.  He’d known you for years then; it was no wonder that he looked at you with such love, struck up a conversation that perfectly targeted your interests.  He must’ve spent years practicing to be your perfect man, until he finally got tired of the lie and trapped you in his twisted idea of the truth.

It made you question his motives for appearing suddenly and spoiling the surprise of you in your wedding gown— a sight he must have been dreaming of for years.

“Did I leave you at the altar?” you asked, below your breath.  “Is that why you’re here?  You came back to stop me?”

He chuckled lightly and brushed his fingers over your face.  “I don’t know yet.  This is the first time.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.  “How can I trust you?  How can I know you haven’t said that every time?”

He didn’t answer, instead leaning in to kiss you gently.  You closed your eyes, accepting that you could never really know the truth anymore.  Maybe someday you would become comfortable with unknowing, or at least complacent enough to tolerate it.

Walking down the aisle felt sort of like walking toward the gallows, but instead of death waiting for you at the end, there was a life of futility, an existence guided not by destiny or decision but by derangement: one man’s fight, against God and nature, to keep you to himself and steal you from the life you were once meant for.

You managed to keep your footsteps steady, glancing briefly to the pews scattered with parse friends and family— wasn’t much time for either of those with the kind of work you did.  All the time in the world, but not enough time for a real life.  That was why it had been so easy to fall for Neil, since he was one of a few people you spent significant time with.  Had that always been the nature of the job?  Or an orchestration by Neil himself, separating you from others until you couldn’t choose anyone but him?

Thankfully, you managed to get through the wedding without crying more than was appropriate or screaming at him or trying to run away.  You exchanged the vows and the rings, you kissed each other, the whole shebang.  Occasionally you actually managed to enjoy yourself, in those moments that you forgot this was all a hollow facade, greeting guests and listening to toasts and dancing with Neil— your new husband.

You forced yourself to keep up the image of a happy bride for the sake of your friends, and everyone who came here in expectation of a fun wedding.  It was what they deserved, even if it was costing you everything.

But once they were gone, you didn’t know how to play the part anymore.  You didn’t know how to swallow down the sick rising in your throat as Neil led you to the honeymoon suite, how to smile back at him when he looked at you with so much joy.

You didn’t know how to prepare yourself for what you knew he expected.

“I… should change out of this dress,” you realized once you were alone in the hotel room together, and he nodded his approval.  You knew if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you would cry, so instead you focused on getting out of your uncomfortable gown.  The lacy white lingerie underneath was intimidating, not for what it was but for what it symbolized.  You couldn’t go back out there like this, obviously— so you grabbed one of the puffy white robes, the hotel’s logo stitched onto the breast pocket, and you threw it on as you stormed out of the bathroom and directly to the balcony.

Tears threatened to burn your eyes as you looked out over the London skyline.  It was stunning, and it made you appreciate that you should be thankful for the freedoms you did have.  There was a big, beautiful world out there and you had the means and the motive to explore it all, if you wanted— you’d already seen more than most.  

But you still mourned for the life you never lived.  Some would argue that in an infinite number of alternate universes, you had the choice to leave him if you wanted to; and apparently, from what Neil had implied, you usually took it.  Yet, that was useless to you now.  The irony was not lost on you that you would be so spoiled as to hate your life when you were standing on the balcony of a luxurious hotel, in a gown that cost more than your first degree, with a gorgeous new husband and more money than either of you would ever have any use for.  You knew you were being petulant.  But something deeper longed for freedom, with everything it cost.  Does it matter how decadent a cage is, if you are still trapped in it?

The balcony door opened behind you, and you defiantly sniffled, quickly wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Darling?” Neil gently called to you.  “Is everything alright?”

You didn’t answer, fearing the waver in your voice would give you away.

“I know it’s all a little… overwhelming,” he relented, his voice coming closer along with his footsteps.  “But you really have nothing to worry about.  I think you’ll rather like it.”

“Like what?” 

He paused for a bit before he replied.  And when he did, he said it like it was obvious: “Being my wife.”

You turned to face him, expecting rage in your voice but hearing only sadness.  “And if I don’t?  You’ll just… go back, and do it again until I do?”

He sighed a little, seeming hurt by the question.  “Please, darling, it’s our wedding night,” he cooed, “you can’t hate me.  Let me remind you how good we are together…”

His touch was distantly familiar, and against your better judgement you relaxed a bit and let him pull you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he spoke beside your ear.

“I never inverted for this,” he explained with a whisper, fingertips grazing over your arm.  “I didn’t learn your kinks, memorize your body and then go back to impress you from the beginning.  The first time we were together… it was the first time for both of us.  And it was perfect.  Do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Tell me,” he instructed, lifting your chin to tenderly kiss your neck.

“Paris,” you sighed.  “We were posing as lovers to check in to a hotel without arousing suspicion.  I’d been enamored with you since I first met you and I thought maybe you felt the same way, but I told you we couldn’t be together because of Tenet…”

“But I kissed you anyway,” he reminded you.

“And I didn’t care about Tenet anymore,” you remembered.  “I just needed to feel you.  And we made love for hours— nearly missed our signal to get out of the building.”

He chuckled lightly against your skin, his fingers leaving goosebumps where they travelled across your back.  “It was worth it,” he decided.  “It was beautiful.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, finding so much love in his eyes, and you searched desperately within yourself for a way to love him in return again after what he’d done.  

Swallowing, you slid your fingers into his hair and examined his face one more time, illuminated in the faintly bluish glow of the city lights.

“Go back,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I need you to go back,” you repeated.  “To the day you proposed.  Don’t tell me the truth this time.”

Realization dawned on his face, somber but calm.

“I’ll be yours, Neil,” you promised, “forever, like you wanted.  But I can’t live like this.  I can’t live knowing what you’ve done.  And I can’t live with myself if I know that I gave in to you.”

“I hate to leave you on our wedding night,” he argued, turning away slightly— but you held his face and pulled him back to look at you.

“Do this for me,” you pleaded.  “Consider it a wedding present.”

He gave you a small, sad smile before he embraced you again.  "Anything for you," he whispered as he kissed you on the top of your head.

~

Neil all but kicked the door down as he carried you in his arms, unable to break the kiss even for a moment to open the door properly.

He stumbled around the room a bit before he finally tossed you onto the bed, eliciting a girlish squeal as the puffy layers of your wedding gown's elaborate skirt flipped up over your head.  Growling playfully as he climbed atop you and slotted himself between your legs, you pushed your dress out of the way to look up at him.

As your laughter died down and you examined his face, you were compelled to reach up and hold his jaw in your hand; he turned his face slightly to kiss your palm as you caressed his cheek.

"I love you," you sighed as you brushed a stray strand of hair back out of his face.

"I love you too," he smiled, "more than you could ever know."

You rolled your eyes.  "There goes my husband with his crypticness again."

He hummed at the title, kissing you again.  You figured you were lucky he didn’t rip the dress as he got you out of it, growling when he saw your lacy white lingerie underneath.  “You really are too good to me, darling,” he purred, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth through the fabric until your back arched.  “All wrapped up for me like a pretty little present…”

You whined when he slipped his fingers down between your legs, toying with you and refusing to just pull the panties aside and get on with it.  Of course he had to draw it out, savor every inch of you, but did he have to drive you so crazy along the way?

"Neil, please," you whimpered, "need you…"

"I know," he soothed between heavy breaths, kissing down your chest and stomach until he reached where you'd nearly soaked through your flimsy lace.  He kissed your swollen clit right through the fabric— damn him that just that little touch made you moan and grab his hair.  He loved seeing the effect he had on you, it was clear by the way he grinned and did it again, a little firmer, relishing in the way you squirmed.

Finally, he pulled your panties aside; although of course he did it tantalizingly slow before sliding his tongue through your folds, moaning lowly when you accidentally pulled his hair a bit.

He looked so damn good with his face between your thighs, staring up at you and holding you in place with his petrifying gaze.  His eyes were always uncharacteristically dark when he did this to you, like he'd been waiting all his life for this moment.  Like the taste of you drove him wild.

You shuddered when he pushed his tongue inside you, instantly putting pressure against the most delicate places inside you.  When the pleasure threatened to become too intense and you instinctively tried to squirm away, his strong hands gripped your thighs and held you down nearly effortlessly, likely leaving marks on your skin for you to notice tomorrow, to remind you that you were his.  As if the ring wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “please— please let me come.”

You didn’t always ask him for permission, but he always gave it when you did.  So you weren’t expecting him to grin and stop his task to suck a hickey onto your thigh.  “Not quite yet,” he purred.  “I need you to ask really, really nicely…”

“Um,” you stalled, distracted by watching him leave a trail of marks along your skin with his teeth, “please… don’t stop, Neil, please let me come… I’ll do anything, you know I will.”

“That’s already true,” he reminded you, snarling as he gave your pussy a sudden spank; you yelped and jolted from the impact, but it ended with a moan and more wetness gathering at your hole.  “You can’t be so obedient all the time and try to use it as a bargaining tool, darling.  You know better than that.  Offer me something I don’t have.”

“If you let me come,” you pondered your potential options as you bit your lip and rocked your hips up in hopes of friction, “I’ll… make dinner, every night, for a week—”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“A month!” you blurted out instead.

“You’re negotiating against yourself,” he chuckled, slapping you right on your clit and making you cry out.  “And you’re not much of a cook.”

You were teetering on the edge, desperate for any leverage you could grapple onto, keening for just a touch more stimulation to bring you the rest of the way— and you were so fucking close.  You could only think of one thing Neil wanted, that he didn’t have, that you could give.  And it was a stupid idea, but you needed to offer him something fast before those dreaded spanks between your thighs made you come before he’d given permission.

“We can fuck on a mission,” you announced through your teeth.  Finally, you felt like you had his attention.  The only time that had ever happened was the one time you let it happen— the first time.  The next day you’d had a long conversation about how you weren’t going to let feelings interfere with the job; he agreed, and since then the two of you had done a pretty good job of separating business and pleasure.  Although he did occasionally get irritated with your work in the field and take it out on you that night in bed, but that doesn’t count, right?

“Really?” he mused.  “Whatever happened to boundaries?  What happened to ‘respecting the other team members’?”

“They don’t need to know,” you explained.  “Please, Neil, I really really need to cum.”

He pressed a thumb to your clit and drew slow, relaxed circles— just slow and relaxed enough to make sure you couldn’t come from it.  You sobbed and let your head fall back, exhausted of his teasing.  “How can you be sure you’ll be discreet enough?  You’re not exactly… subtle,” he smirked, your moans now exactly proving his point.

“Can’t be loud with my mouth full,” you countered, and his smile finally fell.  You finally had a bit of power back.

“You’d really suck me off on a mission?”

“If you can promise to keep quiet,” you chuckled.

He growled a bit as he dove back in, the sudden pleasure forcing a deep moan from your lips.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against you, “so dirty for me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you bit down on your lip.  “God, I’m close, just don’t stop…”

“As long as you keep up your end of the deal,” he smirked, and you nearly forced his head back down between your legs but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut after that— well not quite shut, just busy, and before you knew it the pressure that built in your gut finally flowed over and you sobbed his name at the peak of your orgasm.

He kept going for just a moment too long, sending white hot shocks up your spine from the overstimulation, but thankfully he slowed down and pulled back, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With that out of the way, and you nearly melted into the bed at this point, he sat up and hastily opened his belt and fly while he gazed down upon you with a burning hot stare.

"I should return the favor," you offered, sitting up slightly and reaching to wrap your hand around his length, but he shook his head.

"I’ll get my chance, but right now I just need to be inside you,” he explained gruffly.  “Can’t spend another moment without being buried in this gorgeous cunt of yours; I might die if I can’t have you now.”

"Well, if it's a matter of life and death," you grinned, poorly faking indifference as he shoved you back and caged you in, guiding his cock to your dripping wet entrance.

“Ready, darling?” he prompted quietly as you felt the head of him prodding at you.  You nodded, and yet you still gasped and clutched his forearms when he pushed into you.  It was like the first time every time, with the way his thick length speared into you and stretched you open, but you craved it regardless; by now it wasn’t even pain, just raw sensation that pushed your limits in all the right ways.  He sighed a bit when his hips met yours, already pulling back and setting the pace of his thrusts.    

Even with how wet you were, there was friction just from the size of him, but it was the right kind of friction— a smooth, slow drag against your walls that compelled you to wrap your legs around his hips and hold him deep inside you.

“Is that how you want it?” he interrogated.  “Deep?”  You nodded and he chuckled a little.  “I can do that.”

He stopped moving only for a moment to grab your legs and push them up, such that when he thrusted again, the tip of his cock hit the furthest places inside you and you choked on your own moan.  "Fuck!" you croaked, eyes shooting open and hands reaching out to clutch his shoulders.

"How deep am I inside you?" he asked coyly, well aware of the answer already.

"So deep,” you slurred, barely able to form words with a heavy tongue and empty lungs, “all the way…"

"Good."  He leaned down and growled against your ear.  "I hope I knock you up tonight."

His words shocked you, in the best possible way.  You surprised even yourself with the way your body reacted, and your hands were almost moving of their own accord as they grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.

“Neil,” you mumbled as you broke it just enough to look up at him, “put a baby in me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting into you faster than ever, “I will, darling…”

He was unstoppably filthy after that, relentlessly pounding into you, claiming your entire body as he whispered unimaginably dirty things in your ear.

"I know you want it so badly, darling, I know you need to be filled with my seed… can't wait to see you all round and glowing with my baby in you."

You didn't understand his emphasis on the word "my,” as if it could ever be anyone else's!  But you didn't really notice that very much, too busy crying out at the feeling of him stretching you out and reaching the deepest places inside of you.  “Neil, please— I’m so close, want you to come with me,” you whimpered.  

“Yeah?  Wanna squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt while I fill you up, darling?” 

“Please,” you sobbed, and you were sure you’d never needed him this bad; never needed anything this bad.

Deep little growls coming from between his teeth signified that he was close, and you felt your body tightening around him as you reached your peak one more time, much more intense than before and so much louder than you meant for it to be.  He finally spilled inside of you, painting your walls with his spend as you whimpered and began to descend from your high.  His body relaxed atop yours, though his arms wrapped around you to hold you close.  After a few moments of that, he fell onto his back and you laid your head on his chest, humming happily at the feeling of his warmth seeping out of you.  You were confident you’d be sore all over tomorrow, but you couldn’t feel it now as the afterglow served as a painkiller, keeping you numb and happy while you cuddled into him.

His arm around your shoulders pulled you closer so he could kiss your forehead.  You looked up at him, admiring the way he looked horribly disheveled and yet entirely perfect; he looked back at you, smiling softly.

"Can't believe you're finally mine," he sighed wistfully, "forever."

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//the other one (part 2)

hey! no prompts tonight because i have been super busy today and just haven’t had the time to write them, however i will be working on them again from tomorrow so yay! anyway, to say sorry, here’s the second part of ‘the other one’. this is the first part! i know it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger so hopefully this makes up for it! enjoy! 

“Sweet Pea!” You squeal when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Your feet kick against the dusty ground as he lifts you up, but when he chuckles in your ear and his hot breath fans over your cheeks, you soon still in his arms, now trying to focus on settling your heartbeat. 

He smells like sunscreen and vanilla ice cream and you feel yourself become dizzy, now suddenly extremely thankful that he’s still holding you. You look around at the rest of your friends, none of them paying attention to the two of you, they’re all two busy either sun bathing or jumping into the water that fills the quarry. 

Despite the warnings from your mom about swimming in the water, you have already been in. The rest of her warnings have proven useless, ‘don’t hang out with serpents’ and ‘be nice to your sister’ are the two main ones she’s told you for as long as you can remember, and they’re both stupid. 

Sweet Pea spins you around and the two of you laugh loudly, causing a few of the serpents to look in your direction. You end up making eye contact with Toni when he eventually stops and she sends you a knowing look that makes you quickly drop her gaze. 

“Put me down!” You giggle once you’ve recovered and he reluctantly lets go. You turn around to face him a bright smile on your face that fades when you look at him. Your jaw drops at the sight of his bare chest, Toni and Fangs cough behind you and you quickly close your mouth and look at his face instead. 

“Like what you see?” He asks and wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and shove him slightly, deciding that maybe it’s best not to face him right now. So instead you turn around and look for Sadie who’s been put in charge of the drinks. 

“No, I’m just surprised to see you without your serpent jacket, I thought it was attached.” You tease and he huffs.  

“So, where did the Mayor of Riverdale think her doting daughter is today?” 

“Shopping with Betty and Veronica.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.

“Damn.” He sighs and you frown at him. 

“What?” You ask, your tone filled with worry and your eyes scan over him, trying to find out what’s wrong. 

“It’s just. I don’t know how you’re gonna explain this.” 

“Explain wha-” You furrow your eyebrows and watch as his frown turns into a smirk, but he cuts you off by picking you up and throwing you into the water. He runs and jumps in after you and you shove him when you both come up for air. 

“I hate you so fucking much.” You say, despite the large grin on your face. 

“No you don’t.” 

Your tears rolls down the glossy paper and onto your pyjama pants and you throw the photo to the floor. It’s no longer a happy memory, a candid moment between the two of you captured by Toni, it’s a reminder of what used to be.

It reminds you of something you thought was real, when in reality it’s never been. 

Lying back on your bed, you stare up at the ceiling and count the cracks. It’s the only thing you’ve done for the past two days. You manage to convince your mom that you’ve caught something so you don’t have to go to school and she won’t let anyone in. 

Josie has tried on multiple occasions to talk to you, but anytime she even tries to, you shut her down by staring at her until she leaves. Toni had tried to catch up with you when you found out, but you practically ran all the way home and she knew better than to try to follow. 

She knows you need time. 

You need to be alone to try and figure out where this leaves you. 

You’re not entirely sure you know who you are right now. You spent so long loving Sweet Pea and wishing for a future that could be. 

You searched for clues and hints in his texts, wondered what it meant when he hugged you for what felt like longer than normal, and tried to stop yourself from smiling when he bought you random gifts ‘just because’.  

Now though, now that you’ve taken off your rose tinted glasses and seen the world for the grey bleakness that it actually is, you realize that none of those things meant anything. And all those nights spent worrying that something was wrong, was because of her. He loved her, and not you. 

You heard the hurt in his voice when she shut him down, it’s how you sound when you talk about him. You know what it looks like when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, and now so does he. 

And it’s shit. 

After a week of moping in your bed and faking a migraine, your mom finally forces you to go to school, despite your protests of not wanting to kill anyone with your totally real flu. 

And so finally, you clutch your books close to your chest and cross the threshold of Riverdale High. 

It looks no different, nobody looks at you, nobody even acknowledges you, something they have never done. It’s like you’re the most important McCoy, why would they? And so you breath a sigh of relief as you make your way to your first class. 

You pass Josie and her lips part as if to say something, however they quickly close again and you pass her in silence. 

Your almost at your class when you hear your name being called and you curse quietly. 

What does he want? 

You want to cry. Why does he have to keep being here? Why does he have to keep forcing you to remember that he exists and that he doesn’t want you. 

“Y/n, please?” He begs, his voice cracking and you feel your heart break all over again. You take a shaky breath before forcing yourself to turn around and face the brown eyed boy who’s staring at you with so much sadness in his eyes that you think he’s gonna burst. 

“Yes?” You force out and try to smile at him, however it comes out as more of a grimace and so you just purse your lips and wait for him to answer. 

“Can we talk?” He asks and you look behind you. 

“I er- I have a class to get to.” 

“I know.” He nods. “Chemistry with Miss Click. You sit beside Neil and he throws pencils at his brother Will who sits on the other side of you. Toni sits three rows behind you and constantly passes notes to you that sometimes make you laugh so hard you snort and then have to pretend that you’re just coughing when Miss Click asks you if you’re okay. On Thursdays, Olivia is always late, and when she does turn up she always offers you the last of her gum because you help her catch up on what she’s missed.” 

“Sweet Pe-” 

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupts and you sigh before reluctantly nodding. 

The corridor suddenly empties and you feel yourself shrink under his gaze. 

“I know you love me.” He says and your eyes widen. 

“What?! I er- who told you?” 

“Fangs.” He says and you let out a deflated sigh. “But it’s okay, because I’m glad he did. It made me realize something. I know what classes you have and who you sit beside in each one. I know that when you’re sad you always want chocolate and when you’re angry you want tea. You cry when you see a cute cat on the street and you always pet dogs no matter what, even if they are barking at you and are literally about to rip your arm off. You don’t like dark chocolate but you’ll eat biscuits covered in dark chocolate, and you like peas but you don’t like sweetcorn because you think they try too hard to be different. I know the excuses you tell your mom and I know the ridiculously stupid lengths you go to to keep them up like bribing the chess club to pretend that you’re apart of them and even convincing the yearbook committee to publish a picture of you with the club.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” You smile sadly and he mirrors your expression. 

“Because, I know you. I know how much you love all of us and I know how hard you fought for all of us. I know that you always buy Fangs Twizzlers whenever you’re at a shop, and you buy me Twinkies and Toni Milk Duds because they make us happy. I know all of these useless facts about you, and I know so much more. And I know nothing about Josie, other than what everybody else knows. I know her as a McCoy, but I know you as Y/n. And-and, I love you Y/n.” 

“What?” Your jaw drops and he bites his lip anxiously. 

“I am so, so sorry. I should have told you it’s just Josie didn’t want anybody to know and I wanted to make her happy. But I made you and everybody else worry and I ended up making you miserable. I have been an idiot. I thought I liked Josie but I think I was just pretending that I didn’t love you because I didn’t want to ruin what he had if you didn’t feel the same way. 

“Sweet Pea.” You laugh nervously, not really sure what else to do. He reaches out and grabs your hands, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re not the other one Y/n, you’re the right one.” 

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