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cloveroctobers · 5 months ago

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FALSE STARTS — CARMY BERZATTO [Summer Writings]

A/N: Getting down to my final collection to these summer writings…I strongly debated if I wanted to even write for carm this time around, the man is always going through it…not saying that I won’t ever again because I ofc have love for the guy but whew!!! Never giving up on him but—you guys get it? You just have to let some things sink in after watching the seasons…so here’s something possibly short? Knowing me my definition of short is not always reliable kinda like Carmy’s mental state—OOP. Too much?

WARNINGS: Added a OC, another berzatto again to the mix because I can also see Kyle being on the show and I’ve got a soft spot for him as well SORRY! I feel it in my spirit for smile 2 that it’s NOT going to end well but let’s be delusional! Slight reference to that horror movie in here as well, Still x reader based but you just have a name since I didn’t want to write in 2nd POV, along with some background for you and Carmy’s friendship, language, mentions of s**c***e & some spoilers for season three if you’re not caught up yet!

SYNOPSIS: Carmy runs into more than just his past and blood, forever learning what his next steps are, if his head will let him that is.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @emziess + @andrew3garfield !

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The last thing Carmy expected was to see, Joel Berzatto at the pick up window during the lunch rush. Carmy’s been on autopilot the second week into the grand opening and he was already frustrated with the new hires. They didn’t have what it takes and Carmy didn’t have the patience to teach them, especially when they didn’t put in the effort to learn.

All they cared about was a paycheck.

He couldn’t teach what should have already been known.

Carmy already shocked himself, not blowing a fuse, deciding to just head out back silently with a carton of cigarettes. He vowed at some point he was going to quit these things and faught hard about the stick that was perched in between his lips. He’s pacing along the rocks and dirt on the side of the bear, back of his lighter racking against his fingers as he took a two minute break.

There was no time to make it five.

“Carmen,” a voice greets, making his bright blues turn to the voice.

It’s Joel.

Michelle’s younger brother.

He’s got a bag to go, bunched up underneath his fingers and his badge on his waist glimmers from underneath his earthy toned attire for work. Carmen reminds himself to blink, coming to terms that this is indeed his family—on his father’s side—at his place of business.

“Joel?” Carmen echoes but it’s more of a question.

Joel snickers as there’s still a great distance between the two family members, “yeah I was wondering when I was going to get caught red handed.”

Carmen clears his throat after removing the cigarette from his lips, “you’ve ordered something to go?”

That’s obvious but he’s trying to fill up the silence, which is always so loud even in the city.

Joel scratches at his brow, a small smile playing on his face, “‘Course I did. I was in the area and my partner wanted some other shit, he’s vegan or vegetarian and I knew that would be a disappointment so I snuck over here to get my money’s worth.”

“Yeah?” Carmy’s eyes flick back to the bag, “what’s your poison?”

Joel laughs, “can’t ever go wrong with a classic, am I right?”

Which only meant one thing: Italian Beef with extra peppers, just how he always got it, even when they were younger. Joel was older than Carmy, more around Nat’s age but he always found a way to bring up something to talk about once Michelle, Mikey, and Richie brought the house down with their boisterous voices.

“I’ve mentioned to Sugar that Sam and I can’t wait to try out the dinner menu but it hasn’t been the best time…” Joel hints, almost as if he’s apologizing for not showing his face.

There was tension at the beginning.

Joel was this big detective.

Always the persistent one and trying to solve something. It only made sense that he chose this profession but Joel did piss the family off when he tried to come up with this conspiracy theory that Mikey didn’t kill himself and that someone else pulled the trigger. His perspective? It was probably someone who Mikey bought those painkillers off of and in Joel’s mind, he thought he was doing the family a good service but instead he had his own denial about Mikey’s passing as well.

There’s been two big death’s in Joel’s life that he had to face before with his fiancée who took her own life as well. A psychologist at that. That happened years before Mikey…and Carmy can only imagine how fucked he’s been in the head too and maybe detective work gave him some sort of solace—in a twisted way.

They were family after all and grief is handled in different ways they say!

Carmy picks up on the name referred to and questions, “Sammy? You guys are still together?”

Joel snickers but doesn’t seem offended by any means, “Yeah, can’t seem to get rid of her.”

He jokes but Carmy knows that would be the last thing Joel wanted.

“She always tells me to send her love whenever I do stop by for lunch…we just don’t want to disrupt anything you guys have going on.” Joel admits and that actually makes Carmy frown.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a shake of his head, “she wouldn’t—you guys wouldn’t. You’re both family too…it’s just been a lot.”

“Yeah but at some point I think we’ve got to stop making excuses,” Joel shrugs, “No pressure on our end. You should stop by the house one day, Samora would love to see you. It’s been awhile you know?”

Carmy nods.

It has.

Samora’s been one of Carmy’s oldest friends.

The friendship happened to be one of those, catch you when I catch you type of things, or if seeing someone mutual and he so happened to come up, she always related her love for him. That’s just how they operated, even if was at a distance and there wasn’t any bad blood.

Life went on.

Separately for them.

And she’s apparently been going strong with his blood cousin, Joel, for who knows how long? Carmy can’t believe he’s almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend like her.

“Yeah, I should.” Carmy agrees, “Nat’s got your number right? I’ll have to get it from her and reach out to see what’s best for you guys?”

Joel raised his brows at this.

He didn’t think Carmy would even respond to that. Carmy’s always been the kind of guy that found the nicest corner in the room and chose to stay there, it was what he was comfortable with: seeing all sides of the room and the nearest exit.

“Well Sam’s mostly working out of the house now, business picked back up for her in the last year, thankfully.” Joel answers with an inhale, “I’m the one that’s mostly gone all the time not getting the chance to really live in the house but…whenever you want. We don’t mind pop in’s—usually.”

Carmy nods, “cool—uh? I got to get back in there but I hope you enjoy the sandwich and maybe fucking try something else huh?”

Joel’s always been the sandwich and chips kind of guy. Easy going. Compassionate and soft spoken. Carmy’s only ever saw Joel pissed one time as far as he can remember. Of course when carmy brought up the interest of taking cooking seriously, Joel offered a listening ear and would admit he hardly knew what kind of fancy dishes Carmy was talking about but once he brought out the sketches? Sold! Joel couldn’t be more thrilled to see Carmy finding something to be passionate about.

It took time but he did it.

Joel picks up on Carmy’s teasing tone and points the bag at him, “I don’t tell you how to run your business, Carm. So don’t get in between a man and his favorite hoagie.”

A crooked smile appears on Carmy’s face at that as he slowly starts to retreat, “alright, fair enough.”

“Keep it up, bear.” Joel tells Carm, “beginnings can be rough but everything looks phenomenal…from what I can see anyway.”

Did it feel that way?

Carmy couldn’t tell you.

A week and three months it took for Carmy to show up to the familiar Greystone. It was after the review came in and Carmy was back on mode: disconnect, taking a much needed walk that led him right back to the usual busy area where the home sat; that had history there. He’s not positive how long he’s been standing there, peering up at the picturesque home beyond the fence.

Eventually he works up the nerve to stand at the front door, head just kissing it as he debates about knocking. His stomach feels like an off track dryer machine and his head is telling him that he has no place showing up to this house. Samora wouldn’t want to see him and Joel was just talking back then, never expecting Carmy to take up the invitation.

Carmy’s got the number from Sugar and found out where they stayed. It was the same address of where Sammy grew up, a home from her great grandparents that was passed all the way down to her. Legally she got the greystone since her foster turned adopted siblings weren’t biologically in the family and only one of them seemed to put up a fight about it anyway, only wanting the cash and not caring about how significant the home was.

He remembered that.

And so, he knocks.

He’s heading towards the gate by the time the front door swings open but the sound of the woman calling out his name, stops him in his tracks. He exhaled, dropping his hand from pulling the gate back, lifting his head before turning back to the woman on the stoop.

“It is you! Well don’t just stand there, get up here you little turd.” She’s waving her hands along and Carmy moves.

They’re face to face and it’s been ages.

Both of their eyes traces over one another’s faces but Samora is the first to yank him by the shoulders into her arms. He’s tense but finds himself placing his chin into her own shoulder, shaky hands going to her spine. Samora’s hugs have always been tight but Carmy’s never had a problem with pressure.

Much.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t get paint all on your fresh suit. What’s that? Givenchy?” Samora pokes fun as she playfully flicks the tip of his nose.

Carmy smacks her hand away realizing that she is in fact covered in paint all over her shorts overalls and there’s a dry paint swatch right on her left cheek. A awful chartreuse color, which she always seemed to like the brightest of colors others like to hate on.

In a sense Samora tried to see the good in most things.

“No,” Carmy feels a small smirk appear on his own cheek, “you’re good.”

And she welcomes him inside.

The once old home has been refreshed and Carmy can’t tell you the last time he’s been in here but the changes are evident. The first set of walls were now white, making the short entry way feel bigger and as they both turn to the right towards the living room, the view of the front porch at night feels like many summers ago when they both would sit out there, him on his back, arms tucked behind his head and Samora right beside him cross legged as she stared out towards the traffic lights.

They could sit out there for hours together, comfortable in silence or Carmy listening to Samora curse up a storm when she got confused trying to learn chess with a board her great-grandfather made. A slab of wood with a built in drawer to keep the pieces on the side, it would get stuck sometimes but she always handled with care.

“Carmen Berzatto…can’t believe you came to see little ‘ol me…unless you’re looking for Joel?” Samora says over her shoulder, still waving him along through the dinning room towards the grand kitchen.

He awkwardly stands off to the side in the kitchen while Samora lets out a yawn with a shake of her head before moving forward with searching through the cabinets. “I uh—not necessarily.”

“He’s at work anyway, getting buried into another one of his insane cases that he’s not supposed to tell me about but we all know how I am—I’m going to find out regardless.” Samora places two shot glasses down, noticing that Carmy had moved closer to the island counter now.

He did know actually.

They went to school together, been through a lot of typical high school bullshit together. He always felt like the sidekick, whereas he was the shy and reserved one, Samora had other friends that she didn’t mind putting to the side to hang out with Carmy for. Her response would be whenever Carmy asked why she kicked them to the curb to be around someone boring would be, “I know who my lifelong friends are, surely.”

“Surely,” was always Samora’s word and, “Duh,” happened to be Nat’s.

Sophomore year when Konstantinos “Tino,” Pappas found his next target in Carmy and thought it would be funny to sic his Rottweiler on him one day (he had asthma and could barely run a mile but loved skateboarding) when he had to walk home alone after school one day, he glossed over it, saying that he just tried to hop the fence as a shortcut to get home and got stuck on it instead.

He didn’t mention the dog snatching his backpack, or the nasty nip mark on his lower back, his shirt ripping after it got stuck on the spikes, and colliding face first with a sharp rock, that left a faint knick on his cheek until this day, if you got close enough to see it you would notice. Donna believed Carmy’s lies although she knew Carmy was a more take his time kind of kid but all she wanted to do was get back to her daily cocktail, Nat was concerned but Carmy also brushed her off, saying he was fine, and when Mikey saw the marks, he hammered him with questions, leaving a teenage Carmy to grow sick of his big brother being on his case so he shut him out too.

And what did Mikey Berzatto do?

He went right to a sick Samora to find out what she knew. She had been home for the past three days, down with a fever she caught from her new foster sibling and swore that she would find out. Shook on it with the older Berzatto, who bid his farewells of how good she is to his kid brother, which meant she would always be good people in Mikey’s eyes. And when she did find out? She came right back to school that Monday, noticing the laughter from Tino and his friends down by their locker with a whole camcorder of the incident, which wasn’t far from her’s and Carmy’s.

Carmy lifted his hand to greet the teen but when she was on a mission? It was tunnel vision. She didn’t care if there were teachers at the end of the hall, she snatched the camcorder from one of Tino’s friends, shoving him out of the way, before getting to Tino. A fist met his eye that day and that resulted in a suspension and detention after learning what Tino did.

If you thought Carmy was pissed before about Nat’s overbearing nurturing ways and Mikey bugging him about the marks, then you can only imagine how annoyed he was with Samora after that. That resulted in a stupid fight and with Samora even dating Tino for two whole days—the goal was to break his heart anyway.

Teenagers? Am I right?

“Check this out,” Samora grins as she pours this green liquid into the shot glasses and makes sure to get a piece of cucumber? floating at the top to decorate it with, “I’ve been experimenting and since Joel can’t be my rodent of a taste taster tonight. I present to you chef Carmy, Cold Cucumber green Gazpacho. A chilled soup—as I’m sure you are aware of—since you know how I feel about soups in the summer.”

“…you want me to try this?” Carmy picks up the glass, eyeing it.

Samora dips her head, “surely and if you don’t do that pinched lip thing, then I know it’s trash.”

Carmy flicks his eyes to her with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”

She folds her first four fingers over her thumb, tapping them together, “I don’t know! It’s a thing! You do it when you’re yelling too but at least I know you’re focused so, go on.”

Carmy shakes his head with a slow close of his eyes. He didn’t know what she was talking about at all but he can’t say he was surprised she picked up on this, she was an interior decorator after all.

Detail was always crucial.

“That’s,” Carmy starts after seeing Samora toss her head back not long after himself, “fresh.”

Samora grins, “not bad for a beginner, huh? Easy peasy and quick! Make sure you shout me out if you make this an appetizer or something at the restaurant, will ya?”

“You got it.” Carmy comments making a mental note to do something green next time on the menu, savoring the smooth and freshness with a hint of a zing dish as Samora carefully places the bowl back into the fridge.

Sighing she turns to rest her elbows onto the counter, “Now…bestie Carmy Berzatto…what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift, “N-Nothing. I saw Joel the other day and he brought you up—

“How long ago was that?” She interrupts.

He fires back, “…awhile? Does it matter?”

“No…you know I don’t sweat the small stuff.” She blinks, “Long as I knew you were thriving then that’s all I can wish for but I know my friend and I’m sensing that you’re not okay. You’re avoiding.”

Carmy’s tapping his finger along the side of the glass but Samora doesn’t relax her burning stare, “what—

“Did you see your niece yet?” Samora quizzes and he quickly closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair, she can tell he’s mentally cursing at himself, “she’s a beautiful baby. I had groceries sent to Nat and Pete’s the other day—

“Is this your way of reminding me of how shitty I’ve been at communicating and being present because I don’t need it. I already feel that.”

Samora sticks her tongue in her cheek and pushes back, “No shock there, Carmy. I know you. So what exactly triggered you today that made you finally come here to see me?”

Carmy starts chewing on his lips, eyes not connecting with Samora’s as she tilted her head to the side, waiting. It feels like forever to get an answer so Samora moves around the island, squeezing his shoulder, “let’s go up to the roof, maybe the fresh air and not the fumes of paint will help ease you into it. Thanks for knocking by the way, I may have seen a glimpse of the other side because of it before you got here.”

“What?” Carmy spits out in concern as she pulls at his wrist.

Samora laughs, “if you tell Joel, I’ll have to keep you here and bury you in the front yard.”

Carmy blinks with a roll of his eyes.

They’re on the rooftop, there’s less cars as the night carries on. Carmy’s lost count of how many times the street lights flick from red, yellow, to green and back again. Samora allows carmy to take his time, one leg curled up underneath her with her head thrown back staring up at the twinkle of stars on a hot summer night. There’s barely a breeze but they’re alright.

“I saw the shit stain tonight.”

Samora tossed an arm over her forehead, leaned back in the comfy cushioned blue lounge chair, “yeah? There’s plenty here in chicago, so which one? Don’t tell me you saw the walking jump-scare, Tino?”

“Who?” Carmy presses but Samora can tell he’s not going down that path of the past.

She fans her hand to tell him to continue.

“This guy. One of the best chef’s I worked for in New York, he was at the funeral. There was a funeral for this restaurant, Ever.” Carmy begins to tell his old friend, mindful that she’s been out of the loop.

Samora looks around the night sky and snaps her fingers with a nod of her head, “yeah um, Chelly—mostly Stevie said something about a strict chef you were working with but of course it was vague, which leaves me to believe that you didn’t tell chelly much but she’s great at reading in between the lines much like myself.”

Carmy doesn’t tell her exactly what Chef David said to him a hour ago but tells her what his words made him feel yet again. Small. Incapable. How he has to triple check everything, take charge with no regard for his team that’s supposed to be family, and ultimately that he shouldn’t have a team because he was better off alone. How he should be grateful to be where he is now because of all that Chef David taught him.

“Oh nooooo, Chef charred asshole better be lucky I wasn’t there,” Samora mumbles, “He sounds like a narcissistic dick of a man who gets off on attempting to morph you into him and to me? That doesn’t sound like a brilliant or best of the best chef or even a person! it sounds weak and miserable.”

“It’s what I signed up for.” Carmy almost argues and Samora sits up.

She knows this stems from much more than what he experienced in that restaurant in New York.

“I haven’t been around you in a while but I’ve always been on the sidelines. You accomplished all of these things because you knew you could—you fought. You worked hard and earned this.” Samora reassures, “but these false ideas that you have because of what someone else caused shouldn’t diminish anything that you’ve done and continue to do.”

Carmy pulls out his phone and a pack of chewing gum, “tell that to my brain then. The review is up, Sammy.”

Samora’s eyes meet Carmy’s as he shoves a square piece into his mouth, elbows on his knees as they start to bounce, head dropping just a bit. She reaches for the phone, giving him a side eye since there’s no passcode on it, and is brought right to a webpage.

~THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE~

Reviewed by Ad. Shap

Carmen doesn’t have to look at Samora’s face to take in her reaction. He ultimately knows it’ll be different from what the blue in his brain says. There were many things wrong with the review, mostly wrong than good and that’s why he needed someone from the outside to see before seeing how the crew digested this.

Samora usually does this humming when she’s reading or thinking about something and that doesn’t seem to change. When she’s finished she puts the phone face down on the outdoor table and folds her fingers together as she sits back.

“Well…That was reminiscent to my short lived cookie career.”

Carmy widens his eyes as he sets them back on his friend.

She shields her face instantly, “whoa turn down the opacity on those things will ya?”

“Your cookie business failed.”

“Um, no. Fuck you for that by the way,” Samora glared, “I view it as that wasn’t the way the chapter was meant to be told. I wasn’t heavily devoted to culinary like you. Nobody is that I know of. It was just a hobby for me but you turned your craft into something much more: breathe, sleep—well—you let it consume you pros and cons. Surely these reviews are deeply important because impressions are…tricky but not everything is the way you see it.”

Carmy scoffs with a rub to his lips in annoyance, “what the fuck do you mean it’s not the way I see it? It’s my business and I’ve been backstabbed by a prick I worked with—

“Carmy—

“I can’t be a screw up! I won’t be. I’ve been at this for so long and I’m more than tired and shitty in the head but not enough to throw it all away no matter what some four eyed fucker with a typewriter for a laptop says!” Carmy is on his feet now pacing, “I picked up what Mikey left behind, I put in the time and the effort, I removed parts of myself to be untouchable—

Samora shakes her head, “you’re not though and some part of you knows that. None of us are unbreakable, babe. You just…start over as many times until it feels right.”

“See I don’t—

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat to speak clearly, “that’s the problem, I don’t think I know what feels right or if I ever did. I just know circumstances.”

Samora inhales as she gets to her feet too, “okay then. Take everything that you bottled up and let it out there.” She points over the edge of the balcony, “you have to try to acknowledge the good and let some things go or you’ll forever feel stuck instead of moving forward…but I’m no therapist just a decorator who’s still annoyed that you didn’t reach out to revamp the bear—but that’s another conversation, just a friend who knows a little something something that’ll help.”

“Uh, something something?” Carmy repeats feeling his heart race as Samora waved her painted hand out for Carmy’s tatted one.

He takes her hand as she leads the way to the balcony but not close enough to trigger any vertigo. Carmy always loved the view at Samora’s compared to his own childhood home, which contrasted with no view at all—his bedroom didn’t have any windows, just a closed in space—and he was stuck hearing the common yelling between Donna and Mikey.

Carmy could see the top of a neighbor’s red brick building (thanks to how many floors the greystone had) across the street, along with another home to the left and a row of other houses to the right. Behind the house across the street sat the changing color of lights and beyond that was the liveliness of Chicago in the distance, the farmer’s market he personally loved and had Tina make the runs to, other great eateries, and music spots also weren’t far from Samora’s.

The woman rests a hand right in the center of his chest and Carmy can feel himself panting, “No one ever has to know if you have it all figured out…nobody truly does. Put down some of those dishes bear, out there. Not to hibernate but to be the best version of yourself for you and not what anyone tells you, you should be.”

His eyes burn and he feels like he might let some tears fall some more tonight and he finds that comfort in Samora. Something good from his past that was still present although his version is always different, he doesn’t mind much if she see’s any water that slips from the corners. He knows she won’t say anything about it, and her hand doesn’t move from his chest as she’s almost coaching him how to deal with just a portion of his bullshit.

He couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Yet he was willing to learn.

The scream curdles from the back of his throat, bursting through his lips into the night. He curls into his stomach some, the weight present, the firmness of Samora’s hand on his chest, and his face is hot in the summer air, turning pink as he fights to breathe through his screams. Samora is right there with him, her screams were much more melodic, like she’s had the practice while Carmy is testing it out.

His screams have been buried just like everything else he’s bottled up for years.

After, his throat is raw and voice hoarse as he sniffs, he abruptly turns to Samora, pulling her into another hug. She isn’t tense against him, small laughter falling through her own lips while Carmy hold’s onto her.

Calming down.

“love you,” he manages to get out while Samora scratches his back.

She knows he means it and it’s probably something he needed to hear back as of lately.

Samora sighs, “love you too, turd.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pulling back to meet her stare and she winks at him.

“…if I didn’t love the both of you, I might be highly concerned at whatever the hell that was.” Joel announces his arrival after a few moments of silence.

His arms are folded but he’s got that Berzatto sly grin on his lips as Carmy slowly lets his hands fall from Samora’s forearms. The shorter haired man makes his way over to the two, hands going to both of their shoulders as he peers back and forth.

“You made it.”

“I—yeah.” Carmy clears his throat with a shake of his head, “I did.”

“Good,” Joel dips his head but it feels more like a question than a comment.

carmy shrugs.

Samora claps her hands gaining both cousins’ attention, “let’s have some of Mora’s Mosa’s as a celebratory of the night—was the work day alright for you, love?”

Joel awkwardly nods his head back and forth as a way to show that it was so-so.

“Works for me!” Samora yells, “to the kitchen!”

“It’s midnight, honey.” Joel tells Samora who twists her lips to the side, “and I’m sure Carmy doesn’t want any of that green shit you had in the fridge.”

Samora gasps, “damn, who knew my boyfriend would be my biggest critic?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t get sensitive on me now!”

She shrugs his hand from her shoulder while Joel’s low lidded eyes sends a look to Carmy who raises his hands in surrender.

In a hoarse tone he replies, “I actually like the gazpacho so…you’re on your own with that one.”

“Woooow, okay.” Joel breathes out a laugh, then bites down on his bottom lip while Carmy moves to grab his phone and fallen gum pack.

Carmy then turns to watch the two bicker like an old married couple but it doesn’t get loud at all. Joel does talk with his hands to get his point across and Carmy can pinpoint the exact moment Samora cracks, the corner of her nose twitches with amusement before Joel tests the waters, gripping her hips to place a tender kiss on her lips, which Samora seems to kiss back before they break apart. Smiles on both of their faces before they turn back to Carmy who’s attempting to sneak off down the steps.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Joel asks, “you think you can just go off when you and I didn’t get any one on one time?”

Carmy taps his phone against his hand, “It’s getting late, don’t want to impose any further.”

Joel rolls his eyes, tossing an arm across Carmy’s shoulder, “shut your trap, you’re home, man.”

And with that Carmy is led back into the house.

He doesn’t think he’s slept long, but when he checks the time on his slowly dying phone, it’s already later into the next morning.

8:37am and he has no idea what this day is going to look like but it’s a Sunday…maybe for once he doesn’t have to. One of the rooms he’s tucked in belonged to one of Samora’s adopted brothers, Jacobi, Carmy guesses since there’s still a large crack against the ceiling thanks to a lighting strike that occurred way back when they were all kids.

He sits up for a while, taking in the view one last time before he starts to make his exit. He’s walking down the path towards the gate and stops as he hears the front door open.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Samora tells him as he turns to face her, the woman hugging her robe to herself as she’s sitting on the front step.

Carmy stretches a small smile on his dry lips, “Never that,” he jokes, “thanks for always being here, Sammy. Dunno if I ever told you that enough…probably not since I’m always in my head but uh—give Joel my thanks too for me this time.”

Samora dips her head and says, “Surely.”

Carmy scoffs as he pulls the gate back before putting his palm up in the air, “see you soon.”

“After while, crocodile.” She kisses her fingertips before waving them at him.

Samora watches Carmy go, hoping he starts putting the pieces together instead of forcing it all apart like he’s always been accustomed to.

When Monday comes along, his hands are resting along the trimming of white counter as he’s slightly shifting his head back and forth at all the greenery situated in front of him.

“Morning Chef,” Marcus greets first as he’s followed in by Tina.

Carmy nods his head in greeting.

Tina’s eyes immediately go to all the herbs and vegetables, “Jeffery, what’s all this?”

“Something new, green, for the menu.” Carmy informs, “I realized we haven’t had family dinner in a while and i want all of your inputs for what we’ll have tonight.”

Tina and Marcus share a glance, having a feeling that this had something to do with the new review. They all briefly talked about it in the group chat over the weekend.

“Okay, cool. We’re gonna just go put our stuff down.” Marcus points and Carmy keeps his eyes on the ingredients.

“Take your time, Chefs.” Carmy calls out after some time as the two have already started making their way towards the lockers.

He closes his eyes, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart, deeply inhaling as he ignores the contrast of oxygen between his two nostrils, that was another problem he’s gotten used to, his eyes open just in time to meet the green again as the back doors swing open, revealing the rest of his team gradually.

Carmy had work to do and he’s never been afraid of hard work.

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

#Spotify #queued #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 3 #the bear s3 #Carmen berzatto #Carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto #Carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x oc #jeremy allen white #kyle gallner #smile movie #smile joel #summer writings

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scarletwinterxx · 11 months ago

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but i loved you harder - jaehyun scenario

hello ~ so this one is a request and coincidentally i was writing something for Jaehyun. I too am deep in my Yuno feels (i don't think ever recovered honestly😂) hope you like it!!!

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Dude, I said no. She'll be so mad at me if I do"

"It's for our funds" Johnny insists

"But-"

"No buts, once we reach like $100 I swear I'll cut the line. I have faith in you"

At this point Jaehyun can't say anything that would stop Johnny. He's thinking about bringing in his last card but he'll save it for the last minute so for now he says yes.

Come the day of the festival, word got around that Jaehyun was going to do the date booth so ofcourse the line was long by the time he arrived there. Johnny right in front calling even more students to join while Haechan stands beside him collecting payments.

"Oh here's our star of the day. Okay so who's up first?" Johnny was answered with tens, maybe 20 or more screams from the crowd. Jaehyun shoots a shy smile before going behind the booth.

It's only the fifth girl before he heard the shouting from somewhere in the back.

"JOHNNY J. SUH I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER RUN" Jaehyun hears you before he could see you. He then looks at Johnny, seeing the nervous look on his face and an even more scared Haechan beside him.

"You're on your own, hyung" Haechan mumbles, hiding behind the 6 foot tall guy.

The girls at the very front and the one Jaehyun was just talking to turns their heads towards you, seeing what the commotion is all about.

"What the heck is this?" you ask, eyes blazing.

"A booth"

You stare down the guy taller than you, giving him a chance to change his answer. "Oh come on, it's for our frat funds. And Jaehyun said yes" Johnny says

"Well" Jaehyun interferes making the three of you look over at him, Johnny shoots him a look while you glare at him. He knows the anger isn't really directed towards him, but you can be very scary when you want to be.

"I doubt that, this whole thing has yours and yours name written all over it" you point at the double AA and triple AAA brothers

"How much do you need to raise?" you ask "Like hundred dollars" Haechan answers

You pull something from your back pocket, a crisp hundred bill before putting it inside the jar Haechan was holding.

"There, done. Show's over people. You, let's go"

"Yes ma'am" Jaehyun gets up from his seat, not needing to be told twice. Following behind you.

When you were a few booths away, he catches up with you. Pulling you back by you arm.

"You're not really mad at me, are you?" he asks

"Depends"

"Hey, I swear I told Johnny no. I was gonna tell you about it but honestly I just wanted to watch you rip at him" he tells you with a smile, his dimples showing.

Just like that you feel some of the annoyance and anger melting away. When you don't say anything back, Jaehyun takes this chance to step closer to you. Holding both of your hands in his.

"Don't be mad, please?"

You roll your eyes at him, all is forgiven already.

"I'll buy you ice cream?"

"WIth two scoops?"

He smiles, intertwining your fingers together before leading you towards the ice cream stand. "Two scoops of cookie dough with extra chocolate drizzle just for you"

"You can't still be mad at me"

Currently you, Jaehyun and Johnny are sitting outside a cafe just to hang out. Even though Johnny gives you headaches half of the time, he is a very good friend of yours.

"You'll be surprised with how long I can hold a grudge" you answer back

"I gave your boyfriend back"

"Exactly, he's mine so stop using him for profits" you bite back, Jaehyun listens quietly beside you. His arm resting behind your chair.

"We got that pingpong table from the car wash benefit we did last summer, we're trying to get a pinball machine next" Johnny says

You do remember that frat event. You've never seen so many girls and some guys line up for a carwash done by a bunch of frat boys. Yuta definitely put on a show, Jungwoo also had fun being the adrenaline junkie that he is following whatever Yuta was doing. Mark and Jeno were more shy about it but had one of the longest line.

And Jaehyun, well safe to say you made him wash your car a few times until the line behind you got tired of waiting for their turn. You were debating whether to cut their water supply line but you know Taeyong would scold you so you didn't.

"Go find someone else" you grumble

"Okay then let me ask you, let's say you're in a cafe inside with another friend and this other friend got cold. Jaehyun's the only one who got a jacket, is it okay if he lends her his jacket?" he asks you,

Jaehyun smirks from beside you, waiting for your answer.

"Do you enjoy having your head attached to your neck?" you ask Johnny

"Come on, will you?"

"Of course not! Did your mom not raise you to always bring a jacket in case it gets cold?" you sassily ask back

"I don't see you bringing a jacket around" Johnny counters

"That's cause I have a Jaehyun. She can get her own boyfriend to borrow her jacket from, but until then have fun being a human popsicle"

Jaehyun smiles, his hand absentminded drawing circles on your back as he listens to you.

It's endearing to him really. To some it might sound like you're too much, too jealous, maybe even insecure but Jaehyun knows it's the opposite. And if he's being honest, he's way worse than you. If sees a guy even looking at you for a second too long he's right behind you hovering, a silent warning to back off.

When in public together, if he's not holding you he'll always be a step away. At parties he would be attached at the hip with you, even going to the bathroom to guard the door for you.

If positions were switched he'd be livid too if he sees you in a dating booth smiling at a random dude. Only he can make you smile, only he can make you blush and laugh and moan.

Shaking his thoughts away, he looks over at you still arguing with Johnny. Noticing the breeze got a bit colder since the sun is setting, he shrugs his jacket off to put it around you

"Oh my god, I cannot with you two" Johnny says as he watches the two of you. Slipping your arms through the sleeves, immediately smelling Jaehyun's perfume around you.

"Like I said, I have a Jaehyun"

It's finally the end of a long week, you invited Jaehyun over your place to cook dinner and have an indoor date to end your week together.

The two of you love cooking together, when you first started dating you used to cook for him and bring him packed lunches. Then one time he invited you over to cook dinner for you. At some point cooking became part of date night and it's now one of your favorite things to do with him.

While Jaehyun stirs the noodles on the pan, he feels you hug him from behind. You stand on your tiptoe to kiss him on the jaw, earning a smile from your boyfriend.

When it's just the two of you, you're more clingy towards him. In contrast with your strong personality around his friends, you're more soft spoken and gentle when it's just him around.

"Your birthday is coming up, what do you want to do?" you ask him

"Do you want to go on a date? It's valentines"

You shook your head, stepping to the side to look at him. Jaehyun peaks down at you, "You don't want to go out?"

"If that's what you want, we can celebrate valentines some other day. I want to celebrate your birthday" you tell him.

Jaehyun smiles at you, rubbing his nose against yours before giving your lips a quick peck. He can't get too distracted since he's still cooking. He burnt something before when the two of you forgot about the ramen you were cooking and got busy making out on the kitchen counter.

In his defense he craved you more than the ramen.

"Well if that's the case. What I want for my birthday is to go on a date with my favorite girl"

You smile at him, "Anywhere or is there somewhere you want to go to?"

"Can I plan it?"

"But it's your birthday"

"And I really want to take you out on a date, give me your day and consider that the best gift you could give me"

You look at him, he looks back at you waiting for you to fold. When you roll your eyes at him he knew he won.

"Fine but I'm getting you another gift, you can't say no!"

The two of you enjoy dinner, cleaning up afterwards before putting on a movie you're not really going to watch.

You'll give it to him, a record time of 4 minutes after the movie starts before he pulled you on his lap to kiss you breathless.

"That's a record" you mumble when the two of you broke apart to catch your breath

"What?" he asked, still dazed

"You made it past the opening credits" you giggle, tangling your hands behind his neck to pull him closer to you until he's a breath away.

"I was trying to see if you really wanted to watch the movie" he smirks, holding your hips down against his

"Liar, you would've distracted me whether I wanted to watch it or not"

"Okay you got me there, but what can I do. I just want to kiss my girlfriend all night and all over. Am I not allowed to do that?" He smiles before capturing your lips again, then he's leaving a trail of kisses along your skin. From your lips to your cheeks to your jaw down your neck. His hands now under your shirt to grip your waist.

"Yuno Jeong, believe me when I say this you are allowed to do all of that to me whatever it is you have in mind right now"

"You, you're all that is in my mind right now"

#story #fic #tags #nct #nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun au #jaehyun boyfriend #nct imagine #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct reco #nct scenario #jaehyun scenario

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bestiarium · 1 month ago

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Who was Davy Jones? [Nautical folktales]

This is something completely different from my usual posts. The nautical folk character of Davy Jones isn’t really a mythological creature in the same way as Mesopotamian demons, Inuit spirits or medieval European monsters.

In fact, it turns out the exact origin of the name is hard to pin down. ‘Davy Jones’ Locker’ was nautical slang for the bottom of the ocean, a euphemism used in the context of sinking ships and drowned sailors (as in, he went to Davy Jones’ Locker). As far as I can tell, this term for a seaman’s grave predates any reference to Davy Jones as a separate, actual character. Sailors who died at sea were said to ‘be keeping watch with Davy Jones now’.

As for the name, it’s not entirely clear where it came from but there are some theories. ‘Davy’ might be directly derived from ‘devil’, and according to other authors it might have come from ‘Duppy’, a Caribbean term also meaning devil, though this seems to be less supported. ‘Jones’ most likely comes from Jonah, the Biblical character and later nautical slang for a sailor who brings bad luck to the ship he is on.

It's not impossible that Davy Jones was (based on) a real person but it's not likely.

So, who is Davy Jones and what does he look like?

The oldest physical description of Jones as a being comes from ‘The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle’, a mid-18th century fiction novel by Tobias Smollett. I normally don’t use fiction novels as sources, but we don’t have anything else here and Smollett’s description of the creature seems to have become the basis for iterations of Davy Jones in media, so we might as well. In the book, Davy Jones is said to be a horrible fiend presiding over the wicked spirits of the oceanic depths. He is a monster with blue smoke billowing from his nostrils, a tail and a horned head with large saucer-like eyes and three rows of teeth.

And this is the description Davy Jones was stuck with until 2006, when Disney released Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, which featured the antagonist that you thought of when you saw the title of this post. This version of Davy Jones became so cemented in our collective consciousness that it’s hard to imagine him in any other shape or form. And, to be fair, it makes sense, because it was a good movie.

(Although it’s hard to beat the first one.)

Sources:

Norton, L A., 2016, Folklore, Superstitions and the Sea, The Northern Mariner/Le Marin du Nord, 26(1), p. 21-30.

Foster, J., 1969, Varieties of Sea Lore, Western Folklore, 28(4), pp. 260-266.

Archibald, M., 1998, Sixpence for the Wind: a Knot of Nautical Folklore, Dundurn, p. 45, 143 pp.

Smollett, T., 1751, The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle, London, p.71, 372 pp., text cited via Greensdictofslang.

(image 1: Davy Jones on his locker. Illustrated by John Tenniel for issue 103 of ‘Punch, or the London Charivari’, 1892)

(image 2: a character from ‘The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle’ disguises himself as Davy Jones to scare others, illustration by George Cruikshank in ‘Illustrations of Fieldeing, Smollett and Goldsmith, in a series of forty-one plates’)

#miscellaneous #Nautical folklore #mythical creatures #Aquatic creatures #world mythology #Pirates of the Caribbean #Davy Jones

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sohnric · 9 months ago

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best years – j. haknyeon

pairing: ju haknyeon x fem! reader

genre: early 00s au, established relationship au. fluff !!! sooo fluffy it makes ME feel single. casual engagement i guess ?? tamagotchi mention for all nostalgic girlies <3

warnings: honestly not sure some swearing i'm sure. other than that the reader has hair long enough to play with

word count: 2.5k

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading this as always it means a lot to me i love you so bad. also tagging @okkotsu-simp kyuzu bc she told me to and @winterchimez because.. hak fic...

Most things with Haknyeon aren’t planned, grandiose or romantic. Sometimes, you just take a step forward together, holding each other tight, no questions asked. Much like today-- who would've thought that a Tamagotchi toy evolving would lead you to take the biggest step of your life?

this fic is a part of the @deoboyznet 'the love letter collective' event o:) oh and also a spin-off to my 90s au universe! (go read millennium bug and to. my first for 10 years of good luck!)

September 2007

A sweet strawberry is placed in between your lips as you lay on the blanket, the sun shining into your eyes making you squint and shield your vision from the scorching beams. You blindly bite into the juicy fruit, enjoying the freshness of it in your mouth, knowing that this might be the last time you can taste the red miracle this year, since fall is quickly approaching despite the warm days of early September.

Your ears are filled with the noises of the birds chirping in the distance, the occasional buzz of a bug flying by your face, and apart from the sounds of nature, also the occasional humming of your boyfriend’s voice and the tech noises of the toy in between his fingers.

“He finally evolved into an adult!” Haknyeon gasps and places the Tamagotchi into your point of vision, shielding you from the view of the cloudy, blue sky. Eyes falling onto the little device, you snicker at the man and nod, looking up from your position in his lap to meet his gaze.

“Stop gendering our child, Hak.”

“I’m pretty sure that when we named him John, we wordlessly agreed on it being a boy,” your boyfriend’s hand drops, the sharp sun once again piercing your gaze when there is nothing making a shadow fall over your face.

“For all we know, John can be a girl.”

“Y/N-” the man sighs, the slightest tinge of irritation already in his voice. As if the fact that you were both fully grown adults taking care of a toy for children wasn’t strange enough, now you have to argue about the identity of your little animal.

“It’s an it,” you conclude. “I think we can agree on that, can’t we?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue with you further. The view of him crossing his arms at his chest and averting his gaze from you has you burst out into laughter– he was clearly upset about something, and you’re fairly certain that this was not the matter.

“What?” you pry, letting out an airy laugh slip from between your lips.

“You didn’t even acknowledge that it evolved,” he peeps, sighing. “But if you don’t care, it’s okay, you can just go back to what you were doing before, which was nothing–”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at the boy, humored with his childishness. Taking his palm into your hand and holding it up in front of your face again, you gaze at the toy in between his fingers and hum in acknowledgement. “It did!” you nod. “Good job. You finally didn’t let it die–”

“Now, that only happened twice–”

“Three times,” you correct him, watching with amusement as your boyfriend sighs again and chews on the inside of his lip, the sight of him from below more entertaining to you than watching the clouds. You know that by the logic of the Solar system, there’s only one sun allowed in this universe– but looking at the sky shielded by your boyfriend’s head, his tan skin glazed in the warm orange hues of the late afternoon, you think he’s the personification of the greatest star itself– for you that is, at least.

“Okay, well, three times. But I’ve got a hold of it now,” he says, nodding to himself. “So that means we can get a real kid now,” he says, face stoic and serious, as if he really meant what just came out of his mouth.

Laughing to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, get what now?” you grin. “I wasn’t aware that I was a part of this deal.”

“You agreed to it, though,” Haknyeon nods, flicking your forehead. “You must have not paid attention again, but we definitely shook hands on it.”

“Wait,” you say, sarcastically humming and brushing your chin, a playful act of being lost deep in thought, “no. I still don’t remember any of that. So as long as you don’t have a written proof with my signature and the date on the bottom, I don’t think we can proceed with this arrangement, Mr Ju. We can, however, settle on getting a dog–”

“So you don’t want children with me?” he asks, looking down at you with big eyes. Thinking that it’s all a part of a joke, you try to play along– going as far as even shaking your head in disapproval.

“Hell no,” you drag out, furrowing your brows in deep unsettlement. “To have a clone of you running around our flat in a few years? That sounds like my worst nightmare,” you hum, snickering to yourself. “Besides, we forgot to buy toilet paper last week. What makes you believe we can take care of another human? Hell, that damn thing died 3 times before it grew into an adult, Hak…” you sigh, the tone of a know-it-all you like to use on him so much whenever you joke around not quite hitting the boy in the right way this time.

“Ah,” he hums, fingers suddenly playing with the strands of your hair sprawled out like the beams of the sun in his lap, his face now shielded with a cloud. Haknyeon chews on the inside of his cheek for a second before a bashful voice reaches your ears, making you look up to meet his eye. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to at least try…”

Noticing the playful sparkle in his eye completely gone, your heart stammers, skipping a beat. Stomach dropping, you jump to rescue. “Wait… you thought I was being serious?”

Haknyeon shrugs, pouting for a second before a rosy tint flashes over his cheeks. “You sounded convincing…” he says, laughing. “Besides, it’s completely up to you if you wanna have kids or not, I was just a little taken aback–”

“Stop being silly,” you say, shaking your head. “I should stop being sarcastic all the time, it’s doing a lot of damage recently.”

“Like when MB!Y/N thought you were being serious when you told her it was embarrassing to cry on her wedding day?” Haknyeon laughs, remembering the memory from only a few weeks ago.

“Exactly!” you agree. “I still feel bad for that, by the way. Now I know why nobody liked me in high school–”

“That’s not true,” Haknyeon denies. “You keep forgetting the fact that I had the hugest crush on you, Y/N.”

“Well, you were always very subtle about it.”

“I was shy.”

“I think you were just trying to be cool,” you say, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, taunting the boy.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he laughs, moving his hand up to your head and cradling it, going as far as gently scratching your scalp. “Back to the topic at hand, though. Do you… Have you ever thought of us having kids together?”

Looking up at the man you’ve been dating for the last 4 years, watching as his face morphs into pure wonder, your heart sores when you stare at his features for long enough– even after all this time. You bet you see a hint of sunlight reflecting in his orbs whenever he pays you a look, and the apples of his cheeks catch a light strawberry color whenever you compliment him still, even after so many years. It’s kind of adorable, really– you two have always been an open book, honest with each other– but neither of you were really big on romantic gestures or big confessions.

You two do everything casually. You don’t tend to make a big deal out of things. Somehow, your relationship naturally progresses through all the crucial stages without paying it a second thought. Sure, you two have been on dates– the title wasn’t established for a long time when you first started going out, though. For you and Haknyeon, you were just two people hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

The title of your relationship gained an official name as naturally as the seasons change– after many afternoons spent together doing various things, Haknyeon just asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend. You agreed, no questions asked. It felt casual– it fit like a puzzle to the dynamic of your energies. You didn’t need big words or gestures. In the mundane reality of your lives, you two always had each other– without taking each other for granted, you both somehow always knew you were a given to each other. Both of you always knew you had the other person to fall back on– your security, your other half. There was no need for big words in a connection like yours. It just felt right.

And yes, you do talk about everything. Most things, at least. But somehow, the topic of having children together hasn’t really come up seriously until now– only in passing, mentioning it as a matter of course for most relationships. You don’t blame Haknyeon for getting so serious at this moment.

“Yeah,” you say, voice soft and gentle. “Come on, Hak. I imagine spending the rest of my life with you, what makes you think having children isn’t in the equation?” you say, choosing to be serious with him for once.

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “I mean, you were kinda right about the toilet paper thing, though–”

“I know, I know…” you sigh, “but I bet the oxytocin will get the job done.”

“Look at you using big biology words so suddenly,” Haknyeon jokes, making you roll your eyes and flick his chin.

“Be serious for once!” you laugh out, making the boy grin at your little outburst.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Haknyeon says, the pad of his thumb suddenly glazing over your cheekbone. The touch is tender, managing to cross the words always somehow left unsaid, yet always somehow understood– your brains and hearts on the same wavelength, buzzing at the same frequency– before your boyfriend casually drags out: “That’s good to hear, babe, ‘cause we’d make the prettiest babies. Would be a shame to let the good genes go to waste.”

“Tell me that,” you confidentially whisper. “They’d be mega smart too. They’d get that after me, obviously–”

“Hey!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” you laugh, shielding yourself from the hands of your boyfriend already reaching to give you a playful flick to your forehead again. “I do think we should wait a while before having children, though.”

“Not that I don’t agree with you, but why?”

Hands blindly reaching for another strawberry to chew on, you watch your boyfriend easily pluck the fruit out of the basket and hold it up against your lips, helping you with your task. Thinking over your answer, picking out your words carefully, you chew and stare at the boy as he helps himself to a strawberry himself, the two of you gazing at each other in a fond silence.

“I think we skipped a few steps. We live together already, so that’s a start, but I’d like to get married before having kids,” you shrug, licking your lips off the watery sweetness, watching your boyfriend take in the new information.

Haknyeon hums, nodding to himself. “Makes sense,” he admits. “And when do you see us doing that?” he asks, genuine interest coating his saccharine voice.

“Not really sure,” you admit, snickering. “I haven’t thought about it much until now.”

“Hm,” Haknyeon hums in thought, the two of you staring at each other, chewing on your strawberries. There isn’t much contemplating behind your boyfriend’s words before he says them, but nonetheless, it doesn’t even catch you off guard– much like not many things do in your relationship. Somehow, you’re always perfectly synced. “Now seems like a good time, doesn’t it?”

“I mean… it doesn’t seem like a bad time, that’s for sure,” you shrug.

“We’ve been dating for a long time,” Haknyeon says, as if to further strengthen his argument. “Hell, I can’t believe Eric managed to get married before me.”

“Are you only saying this because your younger friend got married last month?”

“No,” Haknyeon says, although he sounds a little unconvincing. “But it certainly was a wake up call, in a way.”

“A wake up call?” you repeat, big eyes staring into your boyfriend’s soul.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “kinda realized when I didn’t see you catch the bouquet. A part of me was secretly hoping you would.”

“Stop being cheesy, Hak. That’s not like you,” you say, although there is something sweet, thick like honey, swirling in your stomach at his unusually rich wording. The male laughs in your face, enjoying the way he has you flustered with his confession.

“Would you do it, though?” he asks, grinning.

“What? Marry you?” you ask, raising your brows at him. “As in… right now?” you clarify, watching as the male purses his lips at you, seemingly thinking about it for a heartbeat.

“I mean, not right now, because we’d have to arrange the wedding and all, but yeah. Like, as soon as we can, is what I mean,” he says, dragging a stray hair out of your forehead.

Staring at him for a second, contemplating your next words, you feel your heart squeezing with something akin to excitement, your fingertips tingling with the reality upon you. “Ju Haknyeon… is this you asking me to marry you?”

“Yeah,” Haknyeon nods, shrugging. The whole situation is absurd– no one is down on their knee, no ring is present, no big events or confessions are taking place. Yet, the moment still feels perfect– it flows naturally into the trajectory of your life, makes total sense in the grand scheme of your relationship, happens unexpectedly, but doesn’t quite shock you in the tiniest way. It’s just another afternoon for the both of you– doesn’t matter that you’re taking perhaps the biggest decision of your whole life.

You don’t contemplate for even a second.

“Okay,” you say, watching the boy’s eyes light up.

“Okay,” he repeats, nodding. “Let’s do it, then.”

“Let’s do it,” you say, watching the boy beam down at you just like the sun, something in the air changing, yet, the two of you still stay the same.

Haknyeon takes your hand into his, opening your fist before he slips the keyring off the Tamagotchi onto your ring finger like it’s a promise, pressing the toy into the palm of your hand and making you hold it tight. His hand stays on yours when he leans down, lips crashing against yours, offering you all his love in the simple action. He tastes like strawberries and the past 4 years of joy.

Faces close to each other when you pull away, Haknyeon talks confidentially into your ear. “We can go ring shopping tomorrow.”

“You better buy me a very expensive one–” you joke, cut off by your own laughter as the male gently bites into the tip of your nose, teasing you and making you frown, pushing him away with gentle force against his chest, right where his heart is.

Most things with Haknyeon aren’t planned, grandiose or romantic. Sometimes, you just take a step forward together, holding each other tight. You love each other in a casual way– the same way you know that when you wake up, there will be sun, and when you go to sleep at night, there will always be stars– you know that as long as you're alive, you and Haknyeon will always have each other. That’s the calm way in which you two love.

#dbn: love letter #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #ju haknyeon x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #haknyeon x reader #haknyeon imagines #the boyz fluff #haknyeon fluff

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delphi-shield · 1 year ago

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classified intel // jill valentine

Jill x GN!Reader Fluff wc: 1,543 read on ao3 suggestive themes bc reader sends jill a tasteful nude, reader implied to be civilian, post-di!Jill.

this almost turned into angst, but i excised the sad parts and it turned into another wip. tbh i should be prepping for my tabletop tomorrow but i miss my wife.

Jill's on a work trip, but that's never stopped you from texting her before and it sure as hell's not going to stop you now.

also known as:

i am ruminating on a relationship with jill once more. 😔

Technically speaking, your relationship isn’t long distance.

Just because Jill spent a large portion of her time overseas, god-knows-where, doing god-knows-what, did not mean that you were long distance. Yeah, maybe you do have to schedule calls, fighting timezones and your responsibilities to carve out a measly half hour with each other. That doesn’t qualify, technically, as long distance. You tell this to your friends over and over again. Still, they roll their eyes, hum their doubt, and insist that you may as well be long distance.

Their point remains. You and Jill are apart far more than either of you would like. She’s a busy woman by her own design. Her drive had been something that you had admired about her, even if it was the very same thing that kept her from you. You hadn’t entered this relationship blind to the fact that she would be gone sometimes. You had learned to be okay with it, learned to handle the distance that was often double-edged.

Texting was usually infrequent when she was away. Her personal cell phone was usually left behind when she went out for assignments - and if she did have it, it was turned off and shoved to the bottom of her pack. You texted her throughout the day, leaving behind a collection of your thoughts for her to come back to. She had taken to responding in one text, a bullet-point list to catch up on everything that she had missed.

Once, you had gotten anxious about bothering her, about the egregious amount of notifications she would be flooded with when she finally turned her phone back on. You had sent her just one text, telling her to be safe, that you loved her. She had called you the moment she had service, demanding to know what was wrong. Thought something happened to you, I don’t know, she had grumbled, dismissing her paranoia easily over the phone. You had let it go unchallenged, quietly returning to your text spam. The next time she had a chance to talk to you, she had saved her bullet-points for a phone call.

The last time you had heard from her, her plane had landed safely. Her day was going to be packed with intelligence meetings - not really the kind of thing she could be on her phone during. You’ve just gotten home from work when your phone chimes. You take your time checking it, not expecting your girlfriend to be able to chat. She was at least three hours behind you, still in the middle of her work day.

It's a pleasant surprise to see a text from her. Instead of her usual bullet-point reply, she had sent an unflattering picture of a pitbull. Jill’s arm came in from the side of the frame, her hand blurred in the motion of a head pat. The text accompanying it simply read:

5:12 PM: PB&J.

Before you could even ask what that was supposed to mean, Jill sent a second text.

5:29 PM: His name is PB&J.

You grin at your phone, sending her an array of emojis to show how cute that is. You flop back onto your bed, your phone held over your face.

5:31 PM: can you call? just got home lol

5:35 PM: Sorry. Waiting for my next meeting to start.

Shit. You push down your disappointment and look for the silver-lining. At least you could text her for a little bit before she got wrapped up in work again. The dishes in the sink were forgotten in favor of the back and forth between you and Jill. It was hardly the most thrilling conversation. You exchanged the daily monotonies with each other - what sort of coffee she had that morning, how terrible traffic had been for you on your way home, your coat forgotten over the back of your chair at work and Jill’s pen borrowed from an embassy, blue ink, ballpoint and scratchy. It’s easier to superimpose the memory of her alongside you when you have the little details to work with, when you can fill in the gaps in your imagination with the particulars.

Naturally, this devolved into teasing.

5:47 PM: what are you wearing?

5:47 PM: That’s classified.

5:48 PM: tank top and jeans again, huh was kind of hoping for a pantsuit 👀 i know u packed that navy one send pics

You scrolled through your photos, searching for a set of pictures you had taken a few nights ago. If you were going to ask for pics, it was only fair that you send one in return. You had taken them early in the week, consumed by a swell of confidence that had been flushed away the moment you had to scroll through them. You had scrutinized every angle, pinpointed every flaw, every way the light played off of your skin. Your motivation to send them had dwindled quickly. They were filed away into a password protected album, a break in case of emergency stash of photos that may never see the light of day.

Rip the band-aid off, you tell yourself. Send it before you can second guess yourself. You pick your favorite photo, your thumb hesitating over the send button for a fraction of a second before you decide fuck it. She’ll like it. Hopefully.

You drop your phone facedown onto your chest so you don’t stare anxiously at the conversation. It takes all of ten seconds for it to chime again.

5:55 PM: You know the BSAA monitors my texts, right?

Your heart lurches. No way. No fucking way. She’s got to be bluffing. The idea of Jill’s colleague scrolling through your messages with her was mortifying. It wasn’t like this was the first time you had sent her pictures like that. Even if you hadn’t sent those, there were still plenty of texts that you didn’t need anyone else seeing.

She’s bluffing. Has to be.

5:57 PM: bullshit lol 5:57 PM: very funny 6:13 PM: youre not serious right 6:14 PM: ?? 6:14 PM: jill pls 6:24 PM: omg ur not joking are you

Logically, you knew that Jill’s meeting had started. That was why she wasn’t responding. You knew there was no way the BSAA monitored her personal communication 24/7, and you knew that if they did she would have told you about it the first time you had sent her a picture like that, not the hundredth. However, you also knew that she loved keeping you in suspense. No matter what she said to the contrary, you knew that Jill loved to watch you squirm. She found it cute, or so she had confided in you one night, half-asleep and tangled in your sheets.

It took a full hour later for Jill to get back to you. During the course of that hour, you damn near paced a track around your bedroom and filled your google search history with plenty of things to ruin your targeted advertising. Choice examples include ‘employee handbook bsaa north america’ and ‘bsaa employee phone policy’.

Your phone doesn’t even finish the first ring. You see Jill’s name flash on screen, and you’ve already got your phone up to your ear.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you blurt out, your thumb wedged between your teeth.

Jill blurts out a confused what, her voice wobbling with a laugh. It clicks for her a moment later.

“Oh - the ‘monitoring my texts’ thing?” She says, voice lighting with amusement. “Yeah, no. They don’t do that. You look good, though. Did I buy that?”

You let out a relieved groan. “You are such an asshole,” you huff. “I was worried the entire United Nations had just seen my ass.”

“Oh, c’mon. I would have told you not to send stuff like that if they were pulling my texts.” You can’t argue with that. She may have liked to see you squirm, but she was well aware of your boundaries.

“Got any other angles? I remember that outfit having more straps.”

You snort. “Maybe. Gonna need some reciprocation first, though.”

You hear Jill hum over the phone. A door opens in the background, a deep voice drifting over the phone, indecipherable. Jill pauses, listening.

“I’ll see what I can do. Gotta go.”

You hurry to say goodbye, squeezing a quick love you in before the call cut off.

The quiet creeps back into your apartment. You’re left staring at Jill’s contact photo. You tap it to view it in full. Jill’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head thrown back in a laugh. You were cuddled up on the porch swing of a bed & breakfast, an impromptu weekend trip Jill had taken you on a month ago. You had cropped the photo, centering it on Jill - on the way she looked at you and smiled, her eyes soft in a way that you had never seen before.

Your phone buzzed, and you nearly swiped the notification away out of habit. You caught yourself just in time, catching Jill’s name.

8:53 PM: 1 attachment

Your eyes scoured the picture, grin crinkling the corners of your eyes. Goddamn - you knew she had packed that pantsuit. You’re typing a reply when she sends another text.

8:54 PM: Do not say awooga.

You delete your draft and think of a different way to express your appreciation.

#jill valentine x reader #jill valentine fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil fluff #jill valentine imagine #jill valentine x gn!reader #resident evil #jill valentine #ngl i had a real 'this edible aint shit' moment halfway through writing this jakdfjal

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yngtort · 1 year ago

Text

— Head pusher

NSFW ★

─────────

Xfem!reader your bf had been locking himself up in the studio for about a week now, probably stressing over the upcoming release of their new album. neglecting you and himself, without realizing it. So you, like the good girlfriend you are, try to give him some piece at mind.

When you walked into the room, you were immediately greeted by the backs of 3rachas heads. The trio sat, going over each track and what last minute details they wanted to add. You sure they if you just stood there, they wouldn’t even notice you.

“Hey guys.” You said, gaining both changbins and chans attention. Jisung didn’t budge however, headset still covering his ears— blocking out any noise.

“y/n, hey.” “Yo, wassup girl.” They said with hearty smiles.

“Nothing much,” you replied as you made your way to jisung. Your hands slide over his shoulders and feel him tense under the touch but when his eyes meet yours, he relaxes.

“Oh, hi” jisung smiled , taking off his headphones and turning in his swivel chair to face you. He places his hands at your hips, fingers playing with the belt loop of your shorts. “What are you doing here, mama?”

Your heart swells at the nickname— it’s been a few days since you heard him call you that and it sounds just as sweet as the first time he said it.

“Just wanted to check up on y’all.” You tell, feeling his grip on your hips become firmer. Fuck, how you missed his touch.

“yall— as in me and chan too, not just your boyfriend?”changbin said knowingly, making you and jisung laugh.

“there’s that, and lix told me to come let you know that the brownies are done.” You told and watched as the three of them perked up.

“Already?” Chris asked, sitting on the edge of his chair. He looked like an impatient dog, imaginary tail wagging vigorously.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “You better get going if you wanna get some. I heard jeongin is plotting on your share.”

A few glances are passed between each of them before chris and changbin are standing up and bidding their goodbyes to the couple.

You turned back to jisung, “don’t want any brownies? Don’t you need a break?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Nah, I gotta finish up this song.” He said looking up at you with tired eyes, a slight strain in his voice. “Deadline is coming up fast.”

“But ji. You’ve been locked up in here for hours”

Jisung watched the look of concern take over your features. He was well aware that he’d been overworking himself— but it was gonna be worth it in the long run. He needed this album to be perfect, even if it costed him a few brownies.

“I’m almost done, y/n. I promise.” Your boyfriend reassured, placing a kiss on your tummy.

“You were almost done yesterday.” You huffed, not falling for anything. “I’m starting to think like this studio more than me”

“Well, if I’m being honest—” you slapped his shoulder. “Kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed, loving the way you glared down at him with those pretty eyes.

“seriously, ji. I’m getting worried.”

“I know, mama. I know.” jisung coaxes, before pulling you into his lap gently. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck, placing soft kisses along your skin. “I’m almost finished and when I’m done, I’ll be all yours.”

He said he was almost done. Almost.

So why were you both still in this goddamn studio? Both Chris and changbin had came back, but only to collect their things— and they were gone again. (Snap) Just like that.

You were frustrated, but not more than him it seemed.

For the past hour, Jisung was clicking and rolling his going against his cheek. something wasn’t going right, you didn’t know exactly what, but you could tell.

And yet jisung was still buried into his computer screen, giving it so much attention that you wonder if he was in actually in a relationship with it— like his name was sheldon j. Plankton.

“Jisung,” you called out, placing a hand on his thigh and for the first time in a while, jisung looks at you. When he does, he immediately notices that glint in your eyes. One that had him gulping dryly as his chest tightened.

He knew that you were pissed.

“Hmm?” He hummed, “what’s the matter, love?”

“are you seriously asking me that?” Your grip on his thigh tightened, making his breath hitch. “We’ve been here for hours.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to finish this last part.”

“Then just call it a day, ji.”

Jisung sighed, “you don’t understand— i won’t be able to relax knowing that this isn’t completed yet.”

This man was completely stressing himself out. His body was aching for some kind of relief but he just wouldn’t give in. So you were gonna force him.

“W-what are you doing?” Your boyfriend asks he’s pulled back from the desk, wheels on the chair squeaking obnoxiously.

“Making room.” “Making room?”

You silently answer as you slide between him and the desk. Promptly getting on your knees, leaving him gaping at you.

“I worry about you, yknow?” You say, laying your head against his legs. your long lashes flutter up at him, eyes glazed over with innocence and jisung could already feel his dick twitching. “You’ll burn out if you keep being like this”

“But I guess it’s my job to keep you from getting to that point, yeah?”

Jisung gulps as you pop the button of his jeans loose and unzip his fly. He hadn’t realized how much he was craving your touch until your hand is down his pants, pulling out his simi hardened length.

“Fucking hell,” He hisses as the cold air hits, a shiver cascading down his spine. It doesn’t help that your fingers are just as icy as they’re wrapped around his shaft.

You pump him until he’s hard as a rock, precum pooling at the tip of his dick. “it got up so fast. You must’ve missed me more than I thought.” You teased, thumb swiping over his slit.

“Y/n, baby, please” he panted, eye squeezing shut for a moment.

“Please what, ji?” You tilted your head. “Cmon, say it with your chest.”

damn, you really knew how to get under his skin didn’t you? The way you played with his emotions, controlling him and making him feel completely vulnerable— he loved it all.

He placed his fingers under your chin, rubbing his thumb over your plump bottom lip before guiding it onto your tongue. “This.” He whispered, “i want this pretty little mouth of yours around my dick.”

‘Cute’ you thought as you replaced his thumb with his raging erection. You tenderly suck on his tip, cleaning it of the precum that sat there and then guided him down your throat. You can feel his head hit the back as you take him whole.

Jisung groans at the sudden warmth, bucking his hips up and forcing himself deeper.

“S-shit, your so fucking hot, swallowing me up like this” He moans, his hands fisting a tuff of your hair. “make me feel so good.”

You hum around him in response, bobbing your head at a slow meticulous pace.

But jisung was rather impatient today. you can tell by the way his hips were rolling against you.

Before you knew it, he was out of his chair and thrusting into your mouth. The man was so desperate, dick rubbing your throat raw and you just know it’ll be sore tomorrow.

He was such a vocal man, His Loud whines and moans fell from his lips rapidly like he was rapping the lyrics to one of his songs.

“damn it, y/n- why do you have such a sluttly mouth?” He asked, pounding ruthlessly and completely disregarding the tears that rolled down your cheeks. There was no stopping him, your boyfriend got such a kick out of using you like his own personal fuck toy and taking all his stress out on you.

you stay like that for awhile, jaw slack, saliva rolling off your lips while jisung fucks your face — until he loses his sense of rhythm and his thrusts become sloppy.

“cummin, ‘mm cumming.” Jisung slurs, rutting needily against your tongue. He pushed your head further, as if he wasn’t deep enough, and emptied his load down your throat.

Maybe it’s because it’s been awhile, but the amount of seed that you consumed was a little concerning. It filled your cheeks as ji continued to ride out his high.

“I love you so much.” He told through a whimper, letting his dick slip from your lips with a wet pop.

“I love you too.” You said and gave his head a soft kiss.

“Now let’s get out of this damn studio.”

#kpop fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #straykids x reader #kpop imagines #kpop rp #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #x reader

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thegreyjoyed · 1 year ago

Text

GirlDad!Ghost and LovingHusband!Ghost

In honor of my pookie pie Swiss

Fem!user (aka you’re referred to as ‘wife’, ‘you’ and ‘his girls’ are used and stuff)

The familiar sound of ‘Careless Whisper by George Michael’ is playing rather loudly from the TV in the living room, Simon quietly entered the foyer, taking his shoes off and setting his bags down onto the ground, creeping into the stretch of the house where he could see the dining room, the kitchen and you.

Simon leaned against the wall, his other two girls must’ve been in the living room because he could hear them screeching the lyrics to ‘Careless Whisper’. You were making dinner while dancing, stirring.. something and laughing at your daughters.

Simon was perfectly content to just watch his family as they sang and danced- well, your two daughters singing and you dancing. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you, finally getting noticed, “Ah! Si! You’re home, hi! I missed you.” You said with a big smile, setting the mixing bowl down as you walked over and pulled him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hi lovie, jammin’ out to careless whisper?” The man teased softly, his British accent clear as he hugged you back, a kiss pressed back to your lips and then another pressed to your temple.

“Maybe.” You mused back, a soft flush against your skin as you went back to mixing and cooking. Simon walked over to his two daughters who noticed him almost immediately. Your eldest- Sierra, who was 16 and obviously a daddy’s girl, got up quickly to hug her dad, greeting him with a smile.

Daphne got up as well, hugging him with a smile to him. Daphne was only 12, and also the youngest. The song changed after a few more seconds, now some other random song as the two girls sat back down on the couch.

Simon shook his head and chuckled as he pulled out two wine glasses, he set them both down before finding his and your favorite wine, carefully pouring it out, giving one glass to you after you finally finished running around the kitchen.

You picked up the wine and smiled, “Thanks, Si.” You said softly as you sipped the wine, the two of you moved to lean against the counter and each other, a strong arm wrapped around your middle to tug you closer.

“I love you.” Simon crooned into your ear as he sipped the wine, soon after a lengthy and rather weird conversation about what tree they would think each other were.

Simon ended up being an Oak tree and you ended up a Great Basin Bristlecone Pine. You weren’t sure what that was, searched it up, got jokingly offended and asked Simon if he was calling you old and how he even knew what that tree was.

Simon had to explain that Johnny(or soap), had gone on a three hour ramble of trees because Daphne of all people- had taught Johnny, about trees. Simon had also included in a more hushed tone that Johnny called him an ‘old fart’ with an amused chuckle.

You shook your head and laughed alongside him. “Daph! Mind telling Uncle J not to be an ass? Text him for me. You can use ass.” You called, getting your youngest’s attention easily.

“Alright! Sent, Mom!” Daphne called in response, not even five minutes later, Simon gets a call. ‘Johnny’ with the stupidest picture of him as the contact name.

“Your little lassie, Daphy jus’ called me an arse!” Johnny’s very Scottish and very offended voice came through loudly from the phone. “Oh I know.” Simon mused, “The hell ya mean ya know?!” Johnny crowed in response, “She was allowed to cuss. Now goodnight Johnny.” Simon said, quickly hanging up, chuckling.

You smiled and shook your head, finally collecting dinner and playing it all for the two girls, a husband and yourself. A good ol’ fashioned dinner. A casserole, pork, rice, green beans, corn, dinner roles- made all by you throughout the day.

Of course, everyone had a little of everything, eating happily and talking about school, drama.. life in general. You and your husband were both amused as Sierra talked about drama going on in her highschool.

Apparently, in the drama there was two girls who fought over this guy- the guy liked both.. the girls hated each other, they fought, got real hissy pissy about it, punching, scratching, kicking, pulling hair, playing dirty. Not really as much of a fight as it was a scrap.

Simon was throughly amused by it though and chuckled, Daphne thought it was a little funny too, poking fun as Sierra spoke.

You smiled and asked questions- needing context of course- you received some.. half-assed context, which you let slide of course.

When everyone was done, they all helped put everything away, leftovers got packed up, Simon shoved more food into his face after both Sierra and Daphne didn’t finish the rice and corn they had.

You let a long sigh out as both Daphne and Sierra finally went to their respective rooms. You and Simon went to your rooms. Simon tugged you closer into his chest, kissing at your face as you both cuddled into bed, putting on some random movie.

You snuggled into Simon, saying ‘I love you’ and ‘good night’, getting a mirrored- more sleepy response from Simon.

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lesbianbeatles · 5 months ago

Note

#i could name at least three examples off the top of my head rn pls do, I love this messy webbed site and wanna remember our collective cringefails

another person on anon asked me this so @ that person I am also answering yours <3

the absolute worst offender of this in my opinion is the banana milkshakes in Paris thing. please genuinely correct me if I'm wrong but I have yet to see an actual source of paul saying that that isn't just a tumblr post. as far as I can tell someone literally just made that up and tumblr ran with it

the second I can think of is (at least in my opinion) the whole India thing, I think it's been blown very slightly out of proportion. don't get me wrong it's a significant period in beatles history BUT I don't think it was as significant for j+p/their relationship and some make it out to be. like for example I don't believe there was One Massive Fallout that happened there that kickstarted the breakup, rather a lot of smaller things that happened before and after the trip

the third is more general but I think biographies need to be taken more with a pinch of salt and less like they're infallible sources of absolute fact. one thing that really snapped me out of this was Chapter 26 of Craig Brown's book 150 Glimpses of the Beatles, where he talks about Paul's 21st birthday party. He takes sources from multiple biographies/autobiographies talking about the party and the incident that happened there, and the amount of inconsistencies between some of the accounts (not to mention how overdramaticised some of them are) really woke me up to how you really have to read those books critically and not take them at face value. human memory is so unreliable lol

if anyone can think of any more pls feel free to add

#thank u for ur ask #mclennon

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atarathegreat · 1 year ago

Text

TR Boys Crackhead Headcanons

Kazutora Hanemiya

Man spreads because why should you have space on the train

shoves puzzle pieces together that don't match because "this part fits, see!"

broke his own finger just to feel what it was like

moves furniture so people bump into it on purpose

crops everyone else out of photos he's in and doesn't even use the photos for anything

sometimes wears shoes on the opposite feet just to see who will notice

has and will break granola bars on anyone's bed

Mitsuya Takashi

learned to bake so he could put laxatives in cake (fuck around and find out)

hates who his sisters hate

definitely shit talks kindergarteners with Luna

wore a matching dress with his sisters to the movies, pummeled the guy that tried laughing at him

doesn't stop the conversation when he enters the public restrooms

Nahoya Kawata

walks down the upward escalator

smacks everyone in the back of the head because he feels like it

had court once, laughed on his way out because he was falsely found not guilty

has and will drink milk from cereal bowls without having cereal

sits and stares at Souya without blinking until Souya gets uncomfortable

knocked out a guy's teeth and kept them to send back to him via mail

Souya Kawata

Prefers to sleep in a pile of stuffed animals

the bed hasn't been slept in for three years

actually writes poems and hangs them around the city, ended up on the news for it

Cries to ASPCA commercials

Gets angry when Nahoya falls asleep on the couch, drags him back to bed by his feet

completely believes he could solve true crime

Keisuke Baji

Sharpens his teeth with a nail file

tried wearing contacts once but didn't soak them in contact solution so he only dried his eyes out

calls everyone babe platonically

if he can't find both shoes he only wears one

has a scrunchy collection

thought he was spiderman once and jumped off a roof

will shake his ass when standing still (mad tango skillz)

Kokonoi Hajime

Has a book of rare coins

has a button collection

uses chalk hairdye

plucks his eyebrows too thin

can ballet dance

TikTok feind

Manjiro Sano

Calls in sick to places he doesn't work

Got fired from three places he didn't work at

always orders kids meals

has a tantrum until Kenny cuts his hair

uses clear nail polish regularly

has debated getting a trampstamp

does his hair straight up before fixing it so he can look like a unicorn

Ken Ryuguji

has gone bald, does not work for him

draws in tattoos on the side of his head

has a collection of fake earrings that he tried once (Howls Moving Castle theme)

keeps flavored lube in his room just so he can taste it when he wants something sweet

Taiju Shiba

Thinks he can pull of orange (makes him feel like a baddy)

carries an eyebrow pencil everywhere

fights random females for fun

punches himself in the face for being late to things

had frosted tips in middle school

has staring contests with himself

Hanma Shuji

eats ice cream with a fork

eats soup off a plate

has a closet full of plaid clothing, irons it before wearing because "who tf fights with wrinkles in their clothes"

swears by hair gel

tried hairspray once, didn't taste nice so he threw it out a window

after being dubbed the Reaper, he wore a grim reaper outfit

will kiss and the homies and say no homo

Chifuyu Matsuno

plans to name his first child after his cat

has a Baji shrine next to his Peke J shrine

reads his Yaoi books in public and has outburst when things don't go how he wants them to

locked himself in a pet store and threatened to kill himself if he didn't get a cat, his mom beat the shit out of him for it

screams "real or cake" before biting literally anything

Tetta Kisake

puts milk before cereal

writes cursive only to annoy others

once slept on the roof of his house to make his mom feel bad for yelling at him

has a dog name Roscoe (it's a female)

definitely has little man syndrome

thinks girls are into his "mysterious" vibe (literally just doesn't speak to anyone and has RBF)

once pretended to be gay thinking he would get into a girls slumber party

Hakkai Shiba

the only girl he can talk to is his sister (that's just a fact)

moves the family photos around to see if Yuzuha will notice

is regularly on discord but he pretends to be a girl so he can troll guys

swings from trees like hes a monkey because he thinks its faster than running

worked at a haunted house and crawled across the floor like some messed up spider, he was playing as a scarecrow, it was a childrens haunted house

Takamichi Hanagaki

tries to scale buildings by the fire escapes

copies the others fighting styles hoping to look just as cool

eats a raw egg every morning

crops himself out of photos so no one can find him

unironically calls Hina his little princess

colors in the boxes to crossword puzzles

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roanofarcc · 1 month ago

Text

BABYDOLL: CHAPTER THREE. SOMETHING STUPID

jj maybank x fem!routledge OC // read on Ao3

In which a boy with zero self preservation falls in love with a girl clawing at life.

chapter summary. party at the boneyards takes a turn into a turf war; jj’s in the dog house; lying to the cops is always a good idea; and the pogues explore the sunken ship for treasure

word count. 7.6 || masterlist

previous chapter < >next chapter

The Kegger at the Boneyard went off without a hitch. Everyone was ready to soak up the August sun, meeting on common ground with a temporary peace treaty made of beers in plastic cups.

Lottie refilled her cup and gazed around at the collection of teens sprawled across the beach. Kooks wore their preppy clothes, drinks in hand, and tried not to glare too hard at the Pogues they had to share the space with, considering the Boneyard was a part of the Cut. Tourists joined in the partying as well, fitted with sunburns and wide eyes, taking advantage of the unknown territory and faces they’d never see again once their week was over.

An arm came down around her shoulders and a cup of beer was waved in front of her face. “Five bucks says I can finish a cup before you,” JJ challenged.

She cocked her head to the side, skeptically. “Since when do you have five dollars?”

He used his free arm to pat his back pocket. “Right here, Lot.” Something told her he was lying and there was nothing but a candy wrapper in his pocket, but she agreed anyway. They both made sure their cups were equally filled to the brim before a couple of kids around them began counting down. At the count of one, they tipped their cups back and started chugging.

Beer dribbled down Lottie’s chin and was bitter in her mouth, but she didn’t waiver, determined to win. She swallowed the last sip before hastily throwing her cup down and throwing her arms up. JJ was just one second after her, declaring her the winner. The group around them cheered as Lottie bowed.

JJ wiped his mouth, defeated. “That was cold, dude. Schooled my ass.”

Lottie held out her palm. “That’ll be five dollars, Maybank. Pay up.” He scrunched his nose, making the same face he always did when he was about to try to bullshit his way out of something. Lottie had seen him make that face a million times since they were little.

“Can I make you a counteroffer?”

With a roll of her eyes, she said, “I knew you couldn’t pay up!”

To be fair, I thought I’d win.” JJ started patting around all of his pockets, looking for something else to give her in place of cash, as she suspected. She was going to tell him to forget it, but his eyes lit up with an idea. “Ah, here we go. This is technically priceless, so, really, you’re robbing me here. But you’re pretty, so I’ll allow it.”

Heat rose to Lottie’s face. The alcohol, she thought.

JJ pulled off one of the braided bracelets he always wore on his wrist. It had a singular bead on it with the letter J painted on it. He gestured for her to give him her hand and she obliged. It was a little large on her wrist, so he re-tied it to fit.

“Wow,” she said. “I’m honored.” The bracelet was cute, better than five bucks if she was being honest.

They picked up their tossed cups from the sand, preventing a long lecture from Kiara about how they all needed to give more to the environment. She often drunkenly ranted about it when she made them all pick up the Boneyard in the middle of the night right away people left the Keggers.

Lottie wiped the sand from the rim and made sure there wasn’t any inside before she refilled her once more. JJ stood shoulder to shoulder with her, gazing around at the crowd as he waited his turn at the keg.

“Hey, look who showed up,” he said, pointing at a group of Kooks. Among them stood a blonde in a blue and purple sundress, not paying attention to what the group around her was saying.

“Kie’s gonna be pissed.” Sarah Cameron didn’t often attend Keggers, but since she had started dating a Kook named Topper, she’d been coming around more. He and his friends always showed up, looking for trouble.

The blonde must’ve felt them staring because she met Lottie’s gaze. Sarah said something to her boyfriend before she started walking right toward them.

“Uh, why is the princess coming over here?”

Lottie shrugged, staying put and watching as Sarah grabbed her bag from the sand before continuing towards them. JJ slowly backed away, probably not wanting to be caught talking to Sarah by Kie. He fell into another group of Pogues, quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Sarah greeted.

“Hey?”

Sarah held out her hand, presenting a neatly folded pair of shorts to Lottie. “I wanted to give these back to you, and Wheezie wasn’t sure when you were working next.”

“Oh!” Lottie relaxed slightly, taking the shorts she had let Sarah’s little sister borrow. She had worried the Kook princess wanted to pick a fight or something, even if that was more her boyfriend’s scene. The Kooks always had a way of surprising you, and usually not in a good way.

“Thanks,” Lottie said. “Is she still boycotting the club?”

“Until Midsummers, at least.” Midsummers was the event of the year for most Kooks. Lottie started attending as Kiara’s plus one since her parents refused to let any of the other Pogues come. Kie always managed to thrift the most beautiful dresses for both of them, despite her hating the event. She went to appease her parents, but Lottie liked pretending to be a Kook for a night. They would rob the club of shrimp cocktails and steal champagne from the kitchen until they snuck off to smoke with the boys back at the Chateau.

“There’s no chance my dad lets her sit it out,” Sarah said. Something over Lottie’s shoulder caught Sarah’s eye before she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Thanks for helping her out, again.”

“Yeah, of course.” Sarah offered Lottie a small smile before she walked away, back toward her friends. Lottie left to find the bag she had discarded when they first arrived and shoved the shorts inside before she lost them on the beach.

“Why were you talking to Sarah Cameron?” Kie appeared behind Lottie, her face pinched in confusion and a familiar annoyance that always filled her face when there was even a mention of Sarah.

Lottie was hoping Kie hadn’t seen her, but she didn’t get so lucky.

“I let her little sister borrow a pair of shorts while I was working. She was just returning them.”

The scowl on Kie’s face faded slightly, but her bleeding annoyance pricked the air. Lottie grabbed her hand and tugged her in the direction of the keg. “Come on, let’s get you another drink, yeah?”

Kie relented, squeezing Lottie’s hand as she led them to the drinks. JJ was hanging around it, chatting with some Tourons, otherwise known as tourists, but he slipped away once he spotted the girls, rejoining them. Together, they topped off their cups and started bouncing from group to group, drinking, chatting, and laughing as the sun set over the ocean.

The darkness didn’t stop the party. Drinks kept flowing until teens were stumbling around with buzzed smiles, hanging off of each other.

Lottie and her friends made their way to the water’s edge. She watched as the soft waves washed over her toes and soaked in the sweet smell of salt water and booze.

“Hey, you want this one?” JJ asked, approaching Lottie with two cups in hand. She had refilled her not too long ago and wasn’t looking to get totally trashed, so she declined. John B. was ready to take it, but JJ pulled away and called out to the group standing off to the side of them.

“Hey, Sarah! Can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?”

“No thanks,” she declined. Hovering over her shoulder, Topper eyed the group with a hint of disgust twisted on his face.

“Come on,” JJ slurred slightly. “Is it not fancy enough for you?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, we’re just leaving-”

Topper stepped around her, cutting her off. “You know what? I’ll take it. Thanks, man.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. He reached for the cup, but JJ jerked his arm back.

“That’s nice, but I wasn’t asking you. Now, if you had said ‘pretty please,’ then maybe.”

Lottie tugged gently on JJ’s arm, feeling the tension between the two groups steadily rising. The Kooks liked a lot of things: throwing parties, using their daddies' money to make all of their problems go away, and picking fights with the Pogues. Not that they were innocent, either. They had just as much fun getting under the Kooks' suntanned skin, but at the end of the day, there would always be more consequences for the Pogues.

Trying to hand Sarah the drink again, JJ got just what he was looking for, a pissed-off Topper. He smacked the cup right out of JJ’s hands, sending the drink splashing all over. She knew right then it was over. JJ reared up to go at Topper, but John B held him back. For a moment, she thought her brother was going to break up the fight before it even started. But then Topper shouted, “Dirty Pogues!” And that was enough for John B. to shove Topper hard in the gut, sending him stumbling backward.

“Jesus Christ,” Lottie muttered under her breath. The Boneyard was supposed to be the one place where everyone at least faked nice with each other, getting along just long enough to share drinks before they parted ways and returned to being at each other’s throats.

Topper hauled off and tackled John B. launching them in a full-fledged scuffle.

Pope cupped his hands round his mouth, trying to reel in John B. “We’re supposed to be incognito, remember!”

Across the circle of people watching the boys throw punches and wrestle each other to the ground, Sarah tried to call off her boyfriend, but neither John B. nor Topper was listening to anyone.

Topper landed a punch to John B.’s face, sending him to the ground. The crowd ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed,’ watching sick excitement. Lottie was not entertained but was growing rather concerned as her brother started to lose his upper hand in the fight.

While he was down, Topper kicked him hard in the gut, sprawling him out in the shallow water of the incoming tide. Their clothes became soaked at John B. tackled Topper into the water.

“We gotta go, man!” Pope yelled, his voice in a clear state of panic.

All of the shouts mingled together, making them harder to make out as John B. punched Topper square in the jaw. Beside Lottie, she could hear JJ shout, “That’s my boy!” She glared at him. “Come on, he’s kicking his ass.”

He spoke too soon.

More punches and tackles were delivered until Topper got the upper hand, shoving John B.’s head into the sand, under the water just deep enough to cover his face. He kept a firm grip on the back of John B.’s head, not letting him up to breathe.

“He’s drowning him!” one of the Pogues yelled.

Lottie’s heart raced in her chest as panic pooled in her veins. She wasn’t a fighter, even in the slightest, but the sight of her brother struggling under Topper’s hold mixed with the collection of beers she had consumed. She balled up her fists and ran toward the fight.

“Hey, hey, hey!” JJ yelled. “Lot, stop!” He reached out to grab her, his fingers ghosting her wrist, but she was faster, darting towards her brother. She shoved Topper with all her strength, causing him to waiver just slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“Get off of him!”

Topper screamed back, “Stay out of it!”

In an irrational and hasty decision, Lottie threw a punch, hitting Topper in the jaw near the same place John B. had hit. Topper yelled out in pain, cupping his jaw and letting go of John B. for a moment. Despite him being free of Topper’s grasp, John B. didn’t move from his spot face down in the water.

Her hand hurt like a bitch as she cradled it to her chest, watching with wide eyes as Topper flared his nose in anger and fixed his position, pressing down even harder on the back of her brother’s head. Lottie tried to get close again, but Topper threw his elbow back, the bone colliding with her nose.

The force sent her backward, landing in the water with a groan as people’s shouts shifted from thrilled cheers to gasps.

She tasted blood in her mouth, spilling from her throbbing nose. She covered the lower half of her face with her hands, blinking back the tears of pain as her head reeled from the hit.

In a blur of movement, someone stood behind Topper and placed something against the back of his head. JJ. JJ and his stupid gun. JJ was holding the gun he stole to Topper’s head.

“He’s got a gun!” one of the crowd members yelled, causing people to scatter off the scene.

“I know you know what this is,” JJ said, his hand shaking just slightly. The change in the air was sudden, nauseating, as things went from bad to worse.

Topper stuck his hands in the air. “We’re good, man. We’re good!” JJ didn’t move.

“Kie!” Sarah cried. “Can you check your psycho friend?!”

After a few more tense seconds, JJ lifted the gun from Topper’s head and aimed it straight up in the air. “Everyone listen up! Get the hell off our side of the Island!” He let out two shots, the pops echoing loudly in the one peaceful night. More people started to panic, running in every direction as they scrambled to leave the beach. Kie and Pope started berating JJ, shoving and cursing him out.

Lottie wiped the blood from her nose before crawling over to her brother. John B. had rolled over, no longer submerged. He groaned between labored breaths. She helped him sit up, patting his back as he coughed up the water he ingested.

Despite the only light being from the moon, Lottie could tell his eyes were unfocused. “Hey, you still with me?” she asked as his eyelids started to flutter. He muttered something she couldn’t make out before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body slumped forward. She caught him before his face crashed back into the water.

“Guys!” Lottie’s voice cracked as she yelled, drawing her friends’ attention away from their argument. “Some help, please?!”

They all hurried towards her once they noticed the unconscious John B. in her arms. Pope and JJ hauled him up, slinging his arms around their shoulders before they started half carried and half dragged him to the van.

Lottie followed behind them, along with Kie, holding her nose and trying to make the pain stop.

Kiara gently squeezed Lottie’s shoulder, brows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she replied, wincing at the blood that stained her hands. Above that, though, she was more concerned about John B. That wasn’t the first time he had gotten into a fight. A couple of punches had been through, but Topper trying to drown him and JJ pulling a gun went miles above any fight the Pogues had gotten into before. They already were walking on thin ice between finding Scooter’s sunken boat and the man’s stash of cash and a gun in his motel room. If anyone somehow connected the gun JJ had to the one stolen and decided to pull it on a bunch of Kooks, they all were in deep shit.

Kie frowned, gazing at the three boys struggling ahead of them. “I don’t know why we hang out with these guys.”

“Me neither.”

“At least you showed the whole island you know how to throw a punch.”

Lottie cracked a small smile as they approached the van. The boys placed John B. down in the back of the Twinkie before the rest of them packed in. Pope was the only one who didn’t drink, knowing someone would need to drive them home.

They stayed silent on the ride back. The only noise was the soft hum of the radio until they reached the Chateau. The boys placed John B. in his bed while Lottie retreated into hers. She changed out of her swimsuit and into an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt, tiredness started to creep in as the events of the night caught up with her.

In the dim lamplight, she sat down at her desk and stared at her swollen nose in the mirror. Her knuckles ached too from the single punch she managed to throw. There would probably be a nasty bruise across her nose in the morning, but at least she’d match the gnarly black eye John B. would wake up with. It made her feel a little better that Topper would probably look like shit too in the morning.

A small knock sounded from the other side of the door. Without turning around, she told them to come in, figuring it was Kie coming to bunk with her for the night or bid her goodbye. Instead, JJ entered, lingering in the doorway with a nervous smile.

Through the reflection in her mirror, Lottie glared at him. “What?”

“You’re not mad at me too, are you?”

She scoffed, spinning around in her chair. “Seriously? What do you think?”

He shrugged, looking a little irritated himself, which Lottie didn’t think he had the right to. “He was gonna drown him, Lot. Someone had to do something.”

“I was trying!”

It was his turn to scoff. “Yeah, and how did that work out?”

She ignored him and returned her attention to her nose. JJ didn’t take the hint to leave. Instead, he softly closed the door and sat down on the edge of her bed.

They sat in silence for a moment while Lottie tried to see if her nose was broken. She didn’t exactly know how to tell, but she assumed it would hurt more, or maybe she’d be able to tell by poking around the bone. When she touched the bridge of her nose, a hiss of pain escaped her lips. That must’ve been right where Topper’s elbow hit.

“Alright, look,” JJ blurted out. “Was it stupid? Yeah. But you don’t mess with the Pogues!”

Lottie sighed. “I get that, JJ. But a gun? What were you thinking?”

His gaze was heavy, burning into the back of her head. She gave in, facing him once more to see his conflicted gaze and alcohol-flushed cheeks. “How’s your nose?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no malice behind it. “I’m just sick of those Kooks getting away with that kind of shit, okay? They show up on our side of the island, try to drown John B., and almost break your nose. I can’t let that slide, Lot. If no one checks them, they’re gonna keep pulling this shit.”

That may have been true, but that was a fact Lottie had accepted a long time ago. The more money you had, the more bullshit you could get away with; that was a simple fact of life. She thought the best way to avoid the Kook’s shit was to stay out of it and stay bitter from afar. They’d always get a free pass to get away with whatever they wanted to because their daddy or mommy could make any problem go away with some money that probably wouldn’t even put a dent in their accounts.

“They’ve always gotten away with this shit,” she said. “Going all psycho on their asses isn’t gonna change that; it’s only going to piss them off.”

“Yeah, well, pissing people off is my secret talent.”

She bit back a smile. “It’s not really a secret.” She yawned, glancing at her clock on the wall that read nearly four in the morning. “I’m going to bed. Did you need anything?”

JJ stood up, twisting his hat around in his hands. “Kie kinda took the couch in the living room and Pope’s on the porch….” Lottie stared at him. “Bad timing, I get it. No worries. I’ll just head home.” He turned on his heel, heading towards the door, but before he could leave, Lottie chucked a pillow at the back of his head.

“You get the floor,” Lottie told him, crawling under her covers. He smiled, grabbing the blanket folded at the end of her bed and setting up a makeshift bed on the floor.

Lottie turned the lights off and closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Night Lot,” JJ whispered.

“Night JJ.”

➤

Lottie had hoped the morning would be peaceful, healing hangovers and icing wounds, but she couldn’t get that lucky. She had woken up to her friends having fled the Chateau and John B. waking her up with a frantic knock on her door, telling her the sheriff had shown up.

Sheriff Peterkin had arrived on behalf of DCS.

“They wanted me to see how y’all were doin’.” She looked between the twins. “So, who are y’all doing, besides the…” she gestured to her eye and nose, where the twins had growing bruises.

“We’re great. Fantastic, even,” John B. replied. “Thanks for coming by.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’ve heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember.” Lottie sat at the table, chewing on her fingers while her brother tried to clean up the beer bottles as casually as he could. “I heard that your guardian, Uncle Teddy, hasn’t been in the state in three months.”

Lottie cleared her throat when Peterkin’s eyes fell on her. “Yeah, no. That’s not true-”

The sheriff held up her hand, cutting Lottie off. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it's true,” she said. “I called the school. They said you, John B., were a good student but now you’re failing all your classes? And you, Charlotte, used to be so involved until you dropped all your extracurriculars.”

After their dad disappeared, Lottie didn’t have much motivation to attend six a.m. swim team practices or stick around after school for student council. Besides, she didn’t have time after picking up more shifts at the Island Club, trying to keep their lights on. Even though their dad made a meager paycheck, it was more money than they currently had coming in between the two teens.

“I’m only failing one class. History,” John B. said. “And it’s only because that dude’s a dick. He has it out for me.”

Peterkin picked up a joint left lying on the coffee table. Underage drinking and smoking, they were lucky Peterkin didn’t seem overly interested in that. She grew up in the Cut, probably not too dissimilar from the Routledge's. If she bothered to arrest every kid drinking or smoking on the island, there’d be very few kids left.

“And you?”

“I got a job,” Lottie replied. “More practical, you know?”

Peterkin hummed. “I also heard there was a fight yesterday at the beach, and a gun was involved.”

Lottie’s throat went dry, panic inching its way up from her stomach. Luckily her brother kept his cool a bit better than she was. “A gun?” he scoffed. “No. Did I get in a dust-up? Yeah. And did my sister here break it up? Also yeah. But was there a gun? No way.”

“That’s okay,” Peterkin said. “I know who it was. I’ll get to him.”

Lottie’s fingers found the bracelet JJ had given her the night before. He was going to be in deep shit, meaning they’d all probably find themselves in deep shit. Not all of them had much to lose, but they had some stuff. Lottie could not go to juvie.

“Listen, all I’m worried about right now is makin’ sure you two are in a safe home.”

“Yeah, super safe,” John B. said. “Besides, Uncle T. is coming back so…”

Peterkin tilted her head to the side, not looking like she believed him one bit. “Is that what he told you?” The twins both nodded. “Well, if he’s coming back, I think you guys should be allowed to stay. But, if I stick my neck out for you two, you have to help me out.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” asked Lottie.

“It means, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you guys in the marsh yesterday?”

Lottie resisted the urge to start biting her fingernails again, not wanting to give away her nervousness. John B. looked a little taken back by her question, but he held it together enough to answer. “Yeah, we were fishin’ for some drum.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“Nah, we were skunked.”

Peterkin stood a step closer to John B. She spoke low, her tone giving away that she knew something about Scooter’s wreck. “Strange. Fishing’s usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up.” She paused, glancing at Lottie. “You come across a wreck yesterday?”

“Nope,” Lottie replied.

The Sheriff sighed. “You two are skimmin’ just above the surface.” She twirled her finger in a circle, level with her chest. “Down here is foster care or juvie. That’s a pretty far drop for two smart kids like yourselves.” She raised her hand above her head. “Up here is you two and your little friends doing whatever you want. It’s your choice. The Outer Banks or foster care on the mainland.”

The twins exchanged a look, an unspoken ‘we’re in way overheads here.’

“You kids are one inch above the surface right now. If I were you, I’d start flappin’ my wings,” continued Peterkin. “Now, are you sure you didn’t across a wreck yesterday?”

John B. nodded his head. “Yeah, we’re sure.”

Lottie followed up with a “Positive.”

“It’s better that you didn’t, you understand?” Peterkin said. If the money, gun, sunken boat, and dead body weren’t enough of an indication that they shouldn’t keep poking around, Peterkin’s intense gaze sure did. “I’m gonna look the other way as long as you guys and your friends stay out of the marsh.”

She started to leave, giving the house one last look over before clicking her tongue. “I have dogs livin’ better than this. I’d suggest cleaning up.” She pushed the screen door, leaving and letting it slam against the frame.

Closing his eyes, John B. hung his head in his hands while Lottie slumped down beside him on the couch, kicking a few empty beer cans out of the way in the process.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

He blew air from his cheeks and shrugged. “Something really stupid.”

“We can’t get thrown into foster care. They can’t split us up and take us away from our friends.” She couldn’t hide the fear in her voice, the thought of being without any of them made her stomach churn. She’d spent her entire life at her twin’s side. Their friends were too large a part of their lives too. What would they do without each other? Sure, JJ, Kie, and Pope would still have one another on the island, but they were a team of five not three. They all played a part. Without one single piece, they were incomplete.

John B. sat up a little straighter, his expression morphing into one of determination. “I told you, that’s not gonna happen.” He wrapped an arm around Lottie’s shoulders and she dropped her onto his shoulder.

“Juvie’s not any better.”

“That’s not gonna happen either. I’ll tell the others we’re callin’ it off, okay? We stay out of the marsh and avoid all of that.”

Telling the others went about as well as Lottie expected.

“You guys really believe Peterkin is gonna help you out?” JJ asked, his face pinched in disdain for the local law enforcement. It was fair, they almost never were on the Pogues' side, but they didn’t have much of a choice whether or not to believe Peterkin.

Leaning on the rickety old outside bar, John B. nodded. “Yeah, JJ.”

The blond scoffed. “An actual cop. You guys are gonna believe a cop?”

Lottie sat on one of the plastic chairs that somehow survived the hurricane, pulling her legs up against her chest and trying to let the breeze cool off the impending doom of her and her brother’s future that was hanging on a thin thread.

Shortly after Peterkin left, she had taken a shower to wash the smell of booze off of her from the night. While they waited for their friends to arrive, she and John B. managed to clean up the Chateau, not loving that she had compared their living situation to dogs. They tossed the smoked joints and beer cans and swept up all of the sand they’d tracked in. The place smelled and looked a lot better, which did help Lottie feel a little bit better. Even if DCS still poked around, at least it looked like someone responsible was taking care of their house and they weren’t living like in some teenager’s dream shit-hole.

“All we’ve gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple of days, and she’ll help us out,” John B. said. “And it doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting the gun.”

JJ rolled his eyes. “You know what? I should have just let Topper drown your ass.”

“Yeah, because he really was gonna drown me.”

“It sure looked like it!”

“Enough!” Lottie said, a bit louder than intended, shutting the two boys up before they continued their bickering. “Sorry,” she sighed. “But we would prefer not to get shipped off to the mainland for tossed in juvie, okay? If she says she’ll help us, then what other choice do we have? It’s either we trust her or we end up in who the hell even knows where by the end of the week.”

Slumping down in the seat beside Lottie, JJ still looked slightly annoyed, not at them but in general. “They always win, don’t they? Kooks versus Pogues. They always win!” he kicked a beer can, sending it flying.

“It’s okay,” Kie said, in an attempt to cool off the conversation.

“No, it’s not okay! They don’t want us to go into the marsh. That means there’s something valuable down there and you guys know it.” They had no idea if whatever was in that wreck was worth more than she and John B. staying in the Outer Banks.

JJ continued, “I understand why you don’t want to go down there.” He looked at Pope. “You’re the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you,” he pointed to Kie. “I mean, you’re already rich as fuck anyway. Why bother? But us…” JJ pointed to the three of them left. The three who had been connected at the hip since the third grade. “We’ve got nothin’ to lose!”

“JJ-” John B. groaned, but he was cut off.

JJ stood up, leaning against the opposite side of the counter from John B. “Look, I know it didn’t used to be this way for you guys-”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

Lottie rubbed her sore nose with her palm. “We still have stuff to lose, JJ.”

“Do we really, though?” JJ challenged.

“Look, that’s it, okay?” John B. started to walk away, but JJ moved in front of him, trying to block his path. John B. shoved the blond hard enough to make him stumble to the side, clearing a path.

With a huff of annoyance, JJ threw his hands up. “Really? That’s it?” He followed after John B. unrelenting as ever. “I have a plan!”

Lottie dropped her head to her knees, having a bad feeling JJ wasn’t going to stop until John B. agreed. And if there was one thing she knew about her brother, he was easy to wear down. That was great for her, when she wanted to steal the Twinkie or when they were little fighting over who got to drive the boat when they went out with their dad. But it was bad when it came to the plans that JJ came up with.

“You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?” JJ asked. “There’s scuba gear on there. Rich people always have scuba gear. We just borrow that, then we go down to the wreck this afternoon. That’s what gonna save you guys. You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?” Lottie could see the wheels turning in her brother’s head.

Rich kids didn’t go into foster care because life always worked in their favor. Lottie wasn’t sure some get-rich-quick scheme was going to work out the same for them.

Looking between Kie and Pope, she asked, “When this backfires and we get sent away, will you guys write me letters?”

Pope nodded with sincerity. “But only if I can write them like a wife whose husband is away at war.” He cleared his throat before putting on a horrible, high-pitched British accent. “It’s been sixty-nine days since you left. It’s so cold here. I am surrounded by idiots.”

Kie snorted out a laugh before mimicking Pope’s accent. “My dearest Lot, the children miss you so.”

“The children?”

“Yeah, remember? The pet rocks I have on my windowsill, our children.”

Lottie placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, the children! How I miss their googly eyes that they inherited from their mother!” Kie lightly slapped Lottie’s arm as all three of them fell into a fit of laughter.

From the yard, a couple of feet away, John B. and JJ gazed at them, confused.

“So…are we doing this?” JJ asked.

John B. met Lottie’s eyes, waiting for her to make the call. She knew it was a bad idea, terrible even, one of their worst ones yet. But if they all were on board, she had no choice but to be too.

After John B. stole the Cameron’s scuba gear, they ventured back to the boat wreck. Lottie sat off to the side, biting her nails as they tried to come up with a game plan.

Kie checked the tanks that John B. stole, frowning as she gapped on the gauge. “This is empty,” she said. “You stole empty tanks?”

“You didn’t check them before?” Lottie asked her brother, who sputtered for an answer before just shrugging.

Searching the other tanks, Kie found one that was a quarter full, which meant only one of them could venture down to the sunken boat.

“Does anyone know how to dive?” Kie asked. They all sat in silence, exchanging glances in hopes that at least one of them knew what they were doing.

“It’s kind of a Kook sport,” JJ said.

“I read about it once,” said Pope.

Lottie knew she was the best swimmer out of the group, which probably was more useful than having read about diving once before. Despite her wanting to spend her evening doing anything else, she volunteered. “It can’t be that hard, right?”

JJ nodded. “Right. You just gotta put the thing in your mouth and breathe. Simple enough.”

“Well, if you come up too fast, nitrogen gets in your blood and you get the bends,” Pope, ever the optimist, informed them.

“The bends? Like, you bend over and-”

“The bends kill you,” Pope cut JJ off.

As she started reaching for the scuba gear, she hesitated at Pope’s words. So far her recent options for her future consisted of foster care, juvie, or death. Fantastic.

John B. grabbed the gear before she could. “I’ll go. I can dive.”

“Are you sure?” She wasn’t fond of the idea of any of them dying, but if she was going, she could at least control the outcome better.

He nodded, putting the gear on. “I’m sure. I’m gonna get us out of this mess.”

John B. had been saying that since their dad disappeared. He’d been acting like an odd mix of an older brother when it came to Lottie, and a reckless teenage boy when it came to everybody else. Technically, he was the older twin, but only by three and a half minutes, which she didn’t think counted. Lottie didn’t need to be taken care of; she was more than capable of handling their issues alongside him, but Kie had said it was a dude thing. He was trying to be the ‘man of the house’ and fill the gap their dad left. But the thing was, their dad hadn’t even acted that way towards Lottie. The older she got, the more of an afterthought he treated her, focusing more on John B. She was sure her brother hadn’t noticed that, though.

“Let me do some calculations real quick,” Pope said. After scribbling some numbers on a piece of paper with a golf pencil, he decided that John B. needed to make a safety stop at ten feet for no shorter than two minutes to prevent getting the bends and dying.

Wordlessly, Kiara pulled off her shirt and jumped into the water.

“What was that about?” Pope asked, in regards to Kie.

John B. shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Boys, focus.” Lottie drew their attention back to the task at hand.

JJ held up a small cylinder object, showing it to John B. “When you get down there, look for the cargo hold. You’ll stick this thing inside, then twist and pull, okay?” John B. nodded, pocketing the object.

After thirty seconds or so, Kie popped up, slicking back her wet hair. “I tied my shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down,” she said. “That’s where you need to do your safety stop.”

Once he was all geared up and his head packed with instructions, John B. stood on the edge of the boat, ready to go.

Pope left them all with one last, cheerful, thought. “If we get caught out here, we’re basically screwed so better get a move on.”

“Copy that.” He steadied himself before jumping in and sinking under, leaving a few bubbles popping on the surface.

There was a brief moment, as the fiery orange sun painted the sky with a stunning sunset, when Lottie let herself calm down just slightly and be hopeful. Maybe they were onto something. Or maybe she was just desperate to hope so. But the second there was a stillness that settled over the marsh, the sound of a siren startled them all.

Lottie’s head snapped to the side, where the noise was coming from, bringing a boat carrying two police officers toward them.

“Shit,” Pope hissed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. What did I just say?!”

“Just act normal!” Kie said, trying to sit casually on the bench beside Lottie, who followed her lead. She tried to hide her panic behind a straight face, watching as the two officers approached. Two police encounters on the same day did not bode well for her anxiety.

“How you kids doing?” Deputy Shoupe greeted them, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know the marsh is closed.”

They all shared glances, faking surprise. “Oh, no,” JJ replied. “We didn’t know that.”

Pope cleared his throat. “Why is it closed?”

“We’re conducting a search out here for a boat that went down. You guys seen anything?” They all shook their heads and answered with overlapping ‘nos.’ Shoupe nodded slowly. He asked to check out their boat, and they had no choice but to agree. As he looked around, Lottie’s leg bounced, unable to keep her nerves hidden in her chest.

The time ticked by and John B. was due up soon. If he popped up while Shoupe and the other officer were there, they were beyond screwed. But if he stayed under, he’d run out of air before long, considering he only went down less than half a tank.

JJ slid into the seat beside her and placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it lightly to tell her she needed to cool it before the officers got suspicious. She relaxed slightly under his touch, leaning into his side casually.

“Where’s your friend you always hang out with?” Shoupe asked. “He here?”

Kie wore a kind, fake, innocent smile. “He had to work today.”

He continued to look around, heading toward the front of the boat where John B. was farther below the surface. The sunlight reflected off the water, and she hoped that made it impossible to see the wreck and John B.

It felt like an eternity that he stood there, waiting to catch them in their lie, but by some miracle, Shoupe backed off. “All right. Well, you let us know if you see anything on your way out.” He and the other officer climbed back onto their boat and drove off.

Once it was clear the cops couldn’t hear them and were no longer interested in them, the group raced toward the front of the boat, waiting for John B. to return. Glancing down at her watch, Lottie realized he had already run out of air.

A couple more seconds ticked by before he broke through the surface, gasping for air. They all relaxed at the sight of him, sighing and laughing at their impossibly close call.

“How’d it go down there?” JJ asked. “Did you find anything?”

Reaching the ladder, John B. grinned widely. “Did I find anything?” He threw a duffle bag on board. JJ caught it as John B. climbed back onto the boat, riding himself of the scuba gear.

Before they had the chance to open the bag, Kie drew their attention to something in the distance. “Bogy at two o’clock.” A boat was cursing in their direction, not one that anyone seemed to recognize. “What are they even doing back here? The marsh is closed.”

“I don’t know,” Lottie said. “But I really don’t wanna find out.”

Together, they all worked quickly to get the boat ready to head back home, keeping an eye on their approaching company.

It was two men, and while they were still fairly far away, Lottie didn’t recognize them. It was pretty easy to spot who people were out there, whether by their boat or recognizable faces. At the very least, she could tell if someone was a Kook or a Pogue, but she was stumped.

John B. started the engine and started turning them around to face the direction they needed.

The other boat didn’t look to be slowing down but rather was speeding toward them at a slightly alarming rate.

“They’re following us,” Kie said nervously.

“Dude, you gotta go faster,” JJ told John B., hitting his shoulder.

“I’m trying!”

Wind and sea spray flew past them as they gunned it through the marsh. Lottie held onto the back of the captain’s chair, peering over her shoulder at the boat behind them.

Suddenly, the one not driving lifted something in the air. Lottie didn’t have time to try to make it out before a loud ‘bang’ echoed through the air. They all ducked in surprise, except John B. who was trying to drive.

“Oh my god!” Lottie gasped, throwing an arm around Kie as they lay on the ground. “They’re shooting at us! Why the hell are they shooting at us?!” Another shot was fired, missing all of them, thankfully, but they all yelled in a mix of surprise and fear.

Out of everything Lottie had experienced in her sixteen years out on the marsh, being shot at was something new she had never wanted to encounter.

Kie shook Lottie’s shoulder, her dark eyes wide. “I have an idea,” she said before shrugging off Lottie’s arm and standing to her feet.

“Kie, no. No, no, no!” Lottie started, but Kie shut her up with a look before she darted toward the pile of stuff near the back of the boat. Lottie followed, asking, “Are you crazy?”

“Just take this!” Kie shoved a rope into Lottie’s hands before she picked up their net.

Another shot was fire, causing the girl to duck but not abandon whatever Kie’s plan was.

John B. glanced at them from over his shoulder. “Guys, get down!” They ignored him. Kie worked her magic in a blur of missed bullets and their speeding boat. She connected the net to the rope before throwing it into the water. It got caught under the other boat, stalling them in the middle of the marsh while the Pogues continued to race towards home.

John B. didn’t slow down until they reached the Chateau. They all clambered out of the boat, gathering on the dock in a state of shock, confusion, and curiosity. John B. dropped the duffle bag he found on the ground and unzipped it. Out of it, he pulled a good-sized metal cylinder. It looked older, a little weathered. It seemed to have been closed for a while; it took John B. a couple of seconds to get the lid to twist. Tipping it upside down, he let whatever was inside fall out onto his hand. Out fell a compass.

“Oh, wow,” Pope breathed out. “That’s about right. Good job, everyone, we found a compass.”

Lottie’s shoulders slumped, feeling utterly defeated. They went through all of that for a compass. She was hoping for something grander, worth more money that could solve their issues, but she knew, realistically, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Dude, what?” JJ peered oddly at John B. who held the compass in his palm with such concentration.

After a moment, he turned around with glossy eyes. “This was dad’s.”

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