#what i wouldn't give to crack one open in the back of my truck and watch the sunset with the critters

[nightbutterfly09]

Valentines day 

(btw those who get flowers I recommend getting yourself invested in flower language, I probably spent most of my time on researching this lol) (also, I may be biased [is that surprising?] So Sae might get two scenarios sometime later.. we’ll see, if you want one for the other pls share your ideas and tell me about them!) Keep in mind: Valentine’s day is celebrated differently around the world. In this I made that quite obvious but it’s always written there.

Sae Itoshi:        

/small piece of info: he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/

He was a busy man, and naturally the world was against you two spending time on this special occasion. He had another long training day and they didn't take no for an answer, not even if he made sure he was free today days before. 

By the time you heard the front door of your luxurious apartment open it was already 8pm. Everything you wanted to do went out in the trash.

There you were sitting on the barstool sipping on some warm tea on this chilly February night.

You were engrossed in your phone but weren't into it in particular. Your mind was everywhere except for the article you were reading.

Sae knew he f-ed up. Although he really couldn't do anything about it. It isn't in his hands when he is called in for training. He has the right to take a break but the sports industry just doesn't always work like that.

Not to mention, in the back of your mind, you always knew that you’d only come after work. Just because he loved you deeply it didn't mean he’d throw years of work out the window for love.

His arms tangled around your waist which made you startled. “Honestly, I already spoke to you a lot and you are reading such a stupid article?” “It's..not that stupid” 

“It is, how about next time you just ask me how it went?” The article was about Itoshi Sae’s newest match, all the tricky goals he made and also how he made the Spanish striker look even better. “I do, you always tell me you were outstanding as usual” you chuckled.

Even if you were a little salty at him, that wasn't an excuse enough to be mad at him. At least in your book.

“Happy Valentine's day mi vida.” He whispered into your ears and got your phone out of your grasp. 

“So far it's not so happy” but then he let go and gave you a small box. “Wait…” 

“Don't overthink it, I just want to make it up to you.. so I booked a flight to Paris for tomorrow and we can do whatever.” 

You were listening but his words seemed to fall into silence as you opened the box. It was a beautiful ring. A simple but pretty one, just as you like it. 

Suddenly the thought hit you like a truck. “Wait, this isn't an engagement right?!?” Your face flushed and seriously hoped it wasn't time for that yet.

“No” his voice let out a crack of a smile. “It's just a promise right, I found your fingers weirdly missing something nowadays.. So since we aren't in a position for marriage yet, I decided on this. You don't have to wear it all the time though. And the next time I give you a ring, it will be an engagement ring.” He pressed a passionate kiss onto your lips while intertwining hour fingers.

The jewel shone on your hand with a soft glow in the dark. “Now, please don't be disappointed.. I know how important today was for you” 

“It's fine mi amor” you giggle. “I don't care if you forget a birthday, an important day, or you are just busy, what matters is that you show your love for me in a way. We can celebrate Valentine’s day on the 15th too, who said it has to be on one precise day anyway?” 

He smirked and shook his head lightly. “I love you Y/N”

“And I love you, Sae” the words barely left your lips and he picked you up anc placed you on the counter kissing you with passion but also many apologies unsaid.

Your boyfriend was never good with words, but he didn't mind showing his true intentions in many ways others wouldn't even think of.

“Oh, I made chocolate..but I kind of ate them already..in misery” he couldn't help but let a coy smile escape. “It's the thought that counts, and you can make it again later.” He rolled his eyes.

Seishiro Nagi:

For you two mornings were already noon for most people. Sure you had a little less sun to look at but it wasn't like you could just stay up at night and play games together. 

As you awoke the sound of late snow hit your ears. It sounded like some serious snow storm in February. 

You leaned over your boyfriend and checked the time on your phone. 11:34am. That's still so early. Waking up this soon was pointless but it's not like you paid more attention to it. You furrowed your brows  due to the bright life emitted from your screen and saw that today was February 14th. That means only one thing.

Valentine’s day. As much as you enjoyed the quality time it was more or less a hassle. But also you made it your virtue to make homemade chocolates to Sei every 14th of February. Just for his sake.

Therefore you climbed out of the grasp of the tall figure and rushed to the kitchen after getting yourself into something cozier. 

Your sloth loved homemade chocolates. Technically he loved your chocolates. He said the creamy texture and the milky aftertaste were just like what he’d buy at the store just better. 

Sometimes you didn't understand much of his reasoning but regardless you went along with it. 

After an hour he woke up to the fresh smell of chocolate. He slowly walked to the kitchen and tilted his head in inquiry. “What are you doing?” “Happy Valentine's day love!” “Ah.. so that's the occasion, thank you.. you too” he yawned lazily.

The white haired man walked behind you and burrowed his face into your neck as he held onto you for support. His tired body weighing onto you. You giggled. “Sei~ your hair tickles!” You could help but laugh more as he kept nuzzling into you. 

“Wanna have a bite?” You smiled and raised a small heart shaped chocolate to his mouth. “Aah” he opened his mouth and lazily bit it. 

His usually tired face showed sparkling eyes and an expression that yearned for more. He never had much of a sweet tooth so when he first tasted your sweets he thought they’d be all sugary, but this was more suited to his tastes with a slight bitterness in it. 

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. “Yummy” “Me or the chocolates” 

His lips twitched into a smirk and kissed you again turning you to face him finally. “Both” he said and connected your lips again. 

“Wanna play Valorant with me?” “I’m gonna die first aren't I?” You giggled but nodded anyway. The second you wrapped the sweets into a small bag and placed them in the fridge you went after him to boot your computer. 

Later it was time to play your favorite games, which were more on the chill side. Not only did you play animal crossing but also persuaded him to play Genshin Impact with you which he often refuses to. 

Not because he doesn't like it, it's more like because unless it's some farming for your favorite characters he wasn't really needed.

As the snow quieted down and the stars appeared in the night sky, the main part of your date just continued.

Nor you nor him has ever said this would be a date but don't you call a date a well spent quality time? Then you were doing the exact definition of a date. 

Sure anyone could start an argument over this but with your interests aligning so closely it wasn't a matter of uncertainty whether or not this would count as a date or not.

The rest of your days always went by the same way except that he did make sure to thank you for those pretty and tasty chocolates.

Michael Kaiser:     

/small piece of info: since he is german he also gives gifts on Valentine’s day so it’s not entirely like the Japanese customs/   

He was never into love, not to mention Valentine’s day. He also didn’t really understand why someone would love their partner more on a specific day instead of just showing it every day.

That was before he met you. He still thought you deserve to be loved every single second but he understood the value of such a special day. Well at least he kind of knew it’s important to you so he went along with it. 

He spent the entirety of last week thinking what he could do for you. His girl never asked for anything. As far as he knew you never even asked for much. What you did need he bought that anyway so he was in a pickle on what to do.

And there he was. Late with ideas. The awaited day came and he still hadn’t thought of anything. He really tried though. Suddenly he picked you up as you were making him chocolates. “Want to go somewhere?” You tilted your head a little. “The weather forecast said it’d rain soon.” 

“We can still go out, maybe just stay in the car?” You chuckled. “I know you’ve been stressed out because of today but come on, we can just stay at home watch a movie, chat, and I also tried out a new recipe for chocolates which means we can eat that.” “My nutritionist will murder me, but sure if that’s what you want” He mumbled and pulled you more into his embrace. 

“You can pick a movie” You shrug. “Any? Even horror?” He grinned. “Hey, I want to have a good time too.” ‘It’s not like you’d be focusing much on the screen Micha.’ 

People often say he’s as hard to read as understanding cave drawings but to you, Michael Kaiser’s unsaid words just glowed through his expressions. He could make a frowny face and you’d still be confident he was happy with something.

“Stop teasing.” You shook your head with a giggle. As soon as the chocolates were all done he got the first bite. “That’s so good Micha” A soft smile draped across his face. His loving gaze concentrated on ust the woman ahead. He wouldn’t admit, but he was falling deeper and deeper every second he spent with you.

A love he never experienced or saw just barged in on him. The locked iron door was kicked down without even a struggle. The secrets and hardships he never opened up about, all those deep cuts were exposed to you all of a sudden. He just found himself wanting to spend every existing minute with you. The love of his life. 

All those deep scars he tried burying oh so well just resurfaced. And you tried patching them up properly. As if an insecure little girl, who tried covering her pimples with layers upon layers of foundation but only making it worse. You were there and stopped his hands before grabbing the blender again.

There was something special about you. Something no woman could ever replace. Yes you had flaws, just like him. But to him that never meant less perfection. Only more things to work on.

Rin Itoshi:

/traditional Japanese styled valentine’s +reader unable to cook :)/ 

As he got home from his hour-long run the sudden aroma of burnt chocolate made its way to him. “I’m home-” His voice was full of concern but he still headed to the kitchen. “Welcome home Rin!!” You smiled. 

His gaze drifted to the counter. There was one batch of burnt chocolate in heart shapes and you were making another one now. “You don’t have to do this you know…” He inspected the burnt chocolates. Not only did they crumble at his touch but they also seemed genuinely uneatable. Not that he’d want to taste that. “I don’t want to hurt you but, I don’t think this is how they’re made.” 

You pouted and looked at him. “Hey I know I messed those up but this will be better!” You were stubborn. Once you set your mind to something you will go through with it regardless. He knew backing off wasn’t in the cards. “I’ll help you after I showered and changed.” 

“No need, I want to do this for you!” “Yeah, you either do it half-successfully and burn the kitchen down or I help you and they will be potentially digestible.”

“Stop being mean to me” you whined as he just walked out with a chuckle. After about 10 minutes he was back.

He wore a comfortable blue shirt with black sweatpants. His hair was all messy and his face had a smudge of toothpaste on it.

You giggled at his sight. “What?” He scoffed. “Lean down.” To your command he looked at you suspiciously but he obeyed. 

Doon the toothpaste was wiped down. You also made sure his hair is fine. “Have you even looked in the mirror?” “I did- but I was in a hurry” “aww you missed me that much?” “No, I was afraid you’d burn the kitchen down.” 

“See, you are mean again.�� Regardless of his words he started helping you and making sure you two didn't leave the chocolate on the fire for long. 

The chocolates weren't only pretty this time but they were also so tasty. You filled some with jam that your grandma uses often. 

You were now sitting by the couch cuddling while some boring show was playing in front of you. That neither of you was interested in.

This is how a regular Valentine's day goes for Rin and you. Nothing much happening but what does, has lots of sentimental value. 

The sun slowly made it's way down the horizon as you two were still playing around by the window. 

You both needed nothing more. Just chocolates and the soft silence of your home.

Reo Mikage: 

/piece of info: he doesn’t really follow japanese customs/

The man knew your needs by heart. Not only would he make sure every February 14th is enjoyable for you but he would also make sure every time a new experience can be written into your diary that you always thought you kept well hidden from him. 

Reo did love you every day. He did show how much he treasured you each moment but he also knew that these special occasions have a sentimental value that he can't just ignore. So instead he tries making the most of it. Every single time.

He already had a hotel booked and you awoke in fresh bed sheets in a homey hotel. You slowly woke up and opened your eyes. Reo was lying next to you and he was just admiring you. “Why are you staring so much?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. You just woke up and you probably looked like a giant mess. “Because you’re pretty. So pretty.” The purple haired man smirked. 

You were doing your makeup when he finally arrived from downstairs to order your breakfast to be this luxurious one. Not like you ever asked for such. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my queen.” Reo leaned down and kissed your lips. 

“Mmm, cherry.” “I just put that on.” You pretended to pout but then out of nowhere he handed you a giant bouquet of flowers. “Flowers for the pretty woman. My pretty woman.”  Pink carnations rose up from all the little white flowers. It was filled with pinks and deep purples with also little white flowers here and there. Peonies decorated the bouquet to give it a gentle and majestic look. The latter being there for the soft transition.

Lilies swayed on the edges as you held the soft purple paper it was wrapped in. There was a note to be seen with small white petals painted on it.

‘To my queen who I have to thank for a lot. You lit my world up thousands of times when I was at my worst. Thank you for always reminding me you are here less than in an arm’s reach. I want to show my utmost love to you every second of every day. I’ll never leave you and you cannot either. I love you Beautiful.'

Tears swelled up into your eyes as you read his confession. And that wasn’t even a florist’s handwriting. It was his very own. 

Not only does this man spend so much time and money on you he also makes sure it doesn’t all come from his wealth. Not only do his presents have sentimental value but also it shows that he cares. He cares for you deeply.

“Reo~” You whined trying to hold your tears back. “I just did my mascara too” You whined as you tried drying off your tears. Not that right now that was the most important. You just didn’t know what to do or say to him. 

It was as if words and letters and voices couldn’t convey your true feelings. As if this moment can’t possibly be written. Something ethereal. But also, something more than ethereal. That was his kind of love.

Meguru Bachira:

To say the least your boyfriend had a personality. The moment he woke up in your arms he turned and woke you up with sloppy kisses. “Morning Sunshine”

Your eyelids opened just slightly only to flinch at the amount of light that came through the window. Looks like spring was coming very soon as even the sunrays decided to interrupt your sweet dreams. “Morning Meguru~” your slightly crooked morning voice barely made it out. 

“Happy Valentine's day!!” He squealed excitedly and rolled on top of you.

After finally calming him and going about your day at one point he said he had to meet up with Isagi so you were left in the house all alone. The morning jitters also sparkled onto you as you felt more energized than ever.

But Meguru had that aura around him a lot. No matter how little sleep you got or how exhausted you were because of a long week, your boyfriend would always be there to brighten your day.

After about 4 hours he finally came back. You were making chocolate. It was half ready when the door opened. “So I know today is usually your turn and I have to give white day presents BUUT hear me out.” He grinned and gave you a bouquet of colorful flowers.

Many flowers brightened in a bunch of different colors and aesthetics. You saw red tulips, red, orange and white lilies as well as hydrangeas blooming in deep pinks. Not only was it mesmerizing to look at but the smell filled the room in minutes. 

“Thank you baby! I am so happy you thought of me” you grinned and leaned in to hug him. 

You loved how he was the partner to always confide in, he tried his best to make everyone's day, so when it came to his loved ones he didn't shy away at all. 

You put the flowers in a beautiful vase which you got from his mom last year. It was painted with flower veins strangling all over it in every direction.

Later you both wrapped the chocolates as well as little snacks and went down to the nearby park for a picnic. It has been tradition that on Valentine's day the both of you go downstairs with home cooked things and have fun.

The weather was still chilly and that's what made it more fun. It was solely you two in a friendly loneliness. Having alone time with someone was the best and you both understood that feeling well without having to speak up.

As the cold breeze hit your face you leaned more and more into Meguru’s warmth which not only warmed your body up but also his.

The gentle but earnest type of love that was so hard to find. A childlike wonder that you never grew out of.

You already knew Meguru could go overboard and he didn't miss saying “Happy Valentine's day” in every waking moment you passed each other in the house. With loud cheers and the pure happiness emitting from his mouth.

[roosterforme]

California Autumn | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was drawn to you the minute you moved onto his street. You seemed to bump into one another everywhere, and each time he saw your smile or heard your laugh, he knew he had to ask you out. He wasn't expecting the answer you gave him, just as you weren't expecting to wish he could be the man for you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of accident/death, guardianship of child

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.

The sound of something bigger than a car coming down his quiet side street had him cracking his eyes open against the Saturday afternoon sun. A U-Haul lumbered to a stop in front of the house across the street and one door down. The engine settled to silence, and he craned his neck to get a better look. The property had been sitting there with a red and white SOLD sticker over the realty sign for what seemed like months, and now it would appear as though he finally had a new neighbor.

Bradley dropped the rake and had to lunge to grab the handle before it clattered against his stone pathway. The woman who climbed out of the truck, hopping down onto the street in some beat up sneakers, was beautiful. The sun seemed to illuminate her from the inside, and now Bradley was setting the rake down softly as she walked around the truck and slid the back open. It was filled with furniture and boxes, and he watched as an avalanche nearly flowed out as she tried to move one item.

"Shit," he grunted, running across the street as he wiped his dirty hands on the hem of his undershirt. "It looks like you could use a hand," he called out, hoping he wouldn't scare you when he came up behind you just in time to catch a dining chair that was teetering above your head. Then the neatly stacked boxes started to give out as well, and his left hand went to steady them.

You were ducking slightly, preparing for the worst when Bradley realized your back was pressed against his chest. If he moved, there would be a lot of broken furniture to contend with. But then you glanced at him over your shoulder as you stood to your full height, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

If you looked beautiful from across the street, then you looked stunning up close, trapped between his body and the truck. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he mumbled like an idiot, but he was rewarded by the smile that curled along your lips.

"Hey, you're pretty good at being neighborly," you replied, gesturing to his right hand holding the chair and his left securing the stack of boxes. His heartbeat quickened at the sound of your voice and how close you were as you told him your name and asked which house was his.

"I'm Bradley. The white cottage across the street." He nodded toward his mess of a front yard with his chin. "I moved in about six months ago." 

What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer. At the moment, all he could do was fight the urge to tell you how pretty your eyes were.

"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face.

He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."

Your eyes widened a bit before you ducked your head, looking up at him with a surprised smile like you couldn't quite believe what he'd just said. And that's when Bradley heard another vehicle pull up behind him. "That would be my friends. Here to help me unpack."

He wanted to joke that it looked like you needed all the help you could get with your furniture avalanche, but he heard several voices calling your name and rushing over to help. He was invited to stay, but when he was finally able to safely back away without anything falling, he realized four other people were there to help you out.

Your eyes were still focused on his as he started to back away. "I'll see you around?" you asked before chewing on your lip.

"I would count on it," he confirmed, turning back toward his house so you could get settled into yours.

But he did hear one of your friends ask, "Who is he?"

"Bradley," you replied, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "From the white cottage."

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

After that first encounter, he saw you everywhere. You were pulling into the parking spot next to his Bronco when he came out of the grocery store. When he asked how you liked your new house, it sparked a conversation about hardwood versus porcelain tile flooring, and Bradley's ice cream was completely melted by the time he got home.

Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly. 

Then he ran into you at the farmer's market where you were buying vegetables for the upcoming neighborhood potluck. You asked him what he thought you should make.

"Well, I'm the wrong person to ask," he replied, feeling a little lightheaded as his brain begged him to ask you out on a date.

"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?"

He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible."

Your bright laughter cascaded across his skin as your head tipped back. The expanse of your neck looked smooth and perfect, and Bradley wanted to have your permission to put his lips there. And that was a startling thought since nobody had really caught his attention like this since he was first stationed in San Diego. Nobody made him feel like he was at home in his house before you started waving to him whenever you saw him outside.

"I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?"

"Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.

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

"No," you gasped. Bradley recognized your voice and turned around to face you in Mrs. Diaz's kitchen. "That's what you brought to the potluck?" You sounded appalled, but you were clearly smiling as you looked at what he was holding.

"I told you I liked to eat food, not that I knew how to cook anything."

"Bradley," you groaned, shaking your head at the bag of chips and jar of salsa in his hands. "This is bad. Next time, I'll prepare two dishes so you can pretend you made one."

His heart skipped a beat at the idea of handing you things in his kitchen and watching you make something as nice as the lasagna you were holding. "It's useless," he replied with a frown. "After six months of bringing restaurant style tortilla chips and medium salsa, nobody would believe I cooked anything."

Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.

But he watched you get swept up in conversation after conversation, and then the opportunity slipped away when you ducked away from everyone to answer a call. You had a concerned look on your face with your phone pressed to your cheek, and then you were rushing out of Mrs. Diaz's house and along her front path before you disappeared from view.

Suddenly it was well into October, and he'd barely seen you at all. There were a few mornings that felt cool enough to coax him to buy some pumpkins for his front porch. He thought about taking one over to your house as an excuse to finally ask you out, but he figured you must be pretty busy right now. Maybe work got a little crazy. He tried not to imagine that someone else had asked you out and that was the reason why you were so scarce.

"Damn," he grunted when he drove his Bronco past your house on his way to get some takeout for dinner on a Saturday night. He just couldn't stop thinking about you. Why didn't he ask you out that first day when he saved you from your dining chair? He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.

A minute later, when he turned to leave the restaurant with his bag, he could not believe his luck. You were walking inside. "Hey."

You glanced up, and for the briefest second, you smiled at him like you always used to. "Bradley." But then your smile started to fade away slowly, and he would do anything to bring it back.

His heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him, so he squared his shoulders and did the only thing he could do. "Hey, if you're free tomorrow night, I was thinking maybe you and I could get dinner? Or hit up the movie theater on Pomona? The seats are uncomfortable, but they show some indie stuff which could be fun. Or maybe another night might work?"

The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."

Well, fuck.

He backed away from you until he bumped into the wall, and then he focused on getting to the door. "Right," he replied after he had a few more feet between your body and his. "Well, I'll see you around the neighborhood."

For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.

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

Bradley tried his best not to think about you. One day last week, when he saw your front door swing open, he waited to step down from his porch so you wouldn't have to wave awkwardly to him. And yesterday, for lack of anything better to do, he bought more pumpkins, and he waited in his driveway to unload them until you carried all of your groceries inside your house. 

Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.

Bradley lit the candles inside his pumpkins and dropped down into the chair with a bowl of candy as the afternoon sky turned dusky. It didn't take long until a toddler dressed as a witch made an appearance with her dad, and Bradley had a good laugh when she reached for three pieces of candy.

"Trick or treat!" shouted three kids dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy. 

Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one."

"I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.

But then he saw you. And you weren't alone. You were dressed as a soccer player, complete with knee socks and a soccer ball, and you were accompanied by an approximately ten year old kid who looked a lot like you. He was also dressed as a soccer player, and he smiled at Bradley as he said, "Trick or treat."

Bradley stood up, still holding onto the bowl of candy so the child could make his selection while he got a better look at you. "Hey."

"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?"

"I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy. 

"Of course you do," you said, letting your gaze drift toward the child who was currently looking closely at the soccer ball pumpkins while holding onto a Snickers bar. "Somehow you match with us."

The boy looked up at Bradley and asked, "Did you carve these yourself? They look pretty good."

"Yeah," he replied, wishing he actually had taken the time to drop a pumpkin or two off on your porch. "I have perfected the soccer ball technique, kiddo."

The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football."

Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."

When the kid turned back to explore the rest of the pumpkin display a little more, Bradley took a step closer to you. "I didn't know you had a son," he said softly.

Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten."

"He looks like you."

You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him. 

Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known."

And then you looked so sad again.

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

To Bradley's amazement, the weather finally cooled to the perfect temperature in November, but he found he didn't want to be outside as much. It was a shame, because if he stood in the middle of his yard and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was in Virginia. 

One Friday after work, he cleaned the slightly rotten pumpkins from his porch and dragged his trash bin to the curb. Your front door was open, and he paused to see if you or Max happened to walk past it before heading back inside his empty house.

There was another potluck tonight, but he just didn't even feel like going. He had the usual chips and salsa on his kitchen counter, but he had no desire to socialize with the neighbors. He was about to change into gym shorts and surrender to a cold beer and a basketball game on TV when there was a knock on his door.

When he glanced through the front window, he saw that it was you, and his heart seemed to drag him toward the door. He was turning the knob before he thought better of it, and he was met with your wide eyes and a crock pot in your hands.

"Hi. Bradley."

"Hey." He swallowed hard before he said your name, and your lips turned up into a soft smile. "Is that for the potluck?"

"Yeah," you said, reaching out to hand the crock pot to him. "Well, I actually made it for you to take. Max and I will be bringing lasagna again."

Whatever Bradley was holding smelled so good, his stomach started to growl. "I can't take this. Nobody will believe I made it," he murmured, nudging at the lid with his thumb.

"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."

His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking. 

"Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since."

Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."

You laughed, maybe in spite of yourself, but Bradley still loved how it sounded. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward your house and swiped at your tears as you said, "He absolutely does. He also keeps asking me about Ted Lasso across the street and his football pumpkins. I told him you're nice."

Bradley's heart had him dragging his feet closer to you, holding onto the warm pot of buffalo chicken dip for dear life. "Is that so?"

You nodded and stared at Bradley's chest for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. Your lips parted several times before you whispered his name, and he leaned in a bit closer. After a few seconds, he started to step back, but your hand settled lightly on his shoulder, stopping him. Before he could react, you closed the remaining space, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me."

For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.

The three of you walked to Mrs. Diaz's house together that evening. Bradley carried the crock pot, you carried the lasagna, and Max carried the tortilla chips. The conversation was mainly focused on how badly Max wanted to learn how to carve a football pumpkin.

Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.

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

Thanks for reading this angsty yet fuzzy little fic. I hope your Halloween is sweeter than Bradley Bradshaw. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[binsito]

disk 2.0

part one is here!

pairing: bf!bang chan x fem reader x perv!changbin

word count: 3.0k (my longest fic this far AGhhh)

synopsis: changbin knows he should return what he wrongfully stole but he can't help but want to steal another one of chris' cds..

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, usage of the word "cockslut", "daddy", "babygirl", "good girl", "princess", "sweetie", mentions of masturbating, some fingering (f receiving), mentions of alcohol and consumption (they just crack open a cold one), little bit of oral (f & m receiving), breeding, chan is sharing his gf with changbin, filming/usage of a camera, voyeurism/exhibitionism dynamics, cuckolding lowkey??, degradation, humiliation, shame.. i think that's it but idk man they be fuckin!

put the cd back.

simple.

that's all changbin had to do.

put the cd back and act like nothing ever happened, like he didn't watch chris fuck the shit out of his girlfriend.

like he didn't see her puffy cunt ooze with his cum, like he didn't hear the pretty moans she let out for her "daddy", like he didn't see chris bring his heavy hand to her ass cheek, marking her so prettily as he pumped into her from behind with his thick cock.

chris would never know a thing, would never even notice the cd was gone in the first place, changbin was going to toss it back where he found it and take this little secret with him to the grave.

it seemed so easy.

it almost made changbin giggle how fucking effortless it was going to be.

absolutely fool-proof.

he was getting away with such a sneaky little deed, if it was this easy, why didn't he just take another? channie had so many.. he had probably forgotten about them anyways.. they were thrown in a box so carelessly, for god's sake. it wouldn't hurt to just take another..

he had to control the twitching in his cock as he walked into chris' apartment, disk buried in the pouch of his hoodie as he greeted his friend.

he welcomed him in so casually and changbin couldn't help but stiffen in his pants, tugging his hoodie down discreetly to hide his growing erection.

however, as he carried a conversation with his friend, he felt ashamed, guilt washing over him at all the dirty things he had thought about chris and his girlfriend. he knew he shouldn't take another cd, he should leave them as is and never pull that stunt again but he was far too gone, wasn't he?

if he was going to be a pervert, might as well commit to it, right? he already had his mind set on taking another one, had already imagined what could possibly be on another video and he would be incredibly disappointed if he backed out last minute like a wimp.

so as they started moving the last couple of boxes, changbin was bubbling with excitement knowing he would soon have the opportunity to nab another cd as soon as chris would turn away and give him a second alone.

a second was all he needed.

he wasn't going to be picky, any of the cds from chris' collection would make changbin a very, very happy man.

he would be content with whatever he could get, anything would do.

when chris tells him he's going to the bathroom real quick, changbin has to act like he's not fucking elated, like he almost didn't jump up and cheer.

he had to be cool.

had to be quick.

discreet.

sneaky.

he waited until chris was out of sight and quickly started looking for the box, however much to his dismay, it was no longer among the other boxes.

it was gone.

chris had probably packed it up already on his own, maybe it was in the truck, maybe he had given them over to his girlfriend?

changbin felt like he could collapse.

his excitement fizzling down to disappointment and frustration.

at least he could keep and rewatch the one he already had but he was just so greedy, he wanted to be nosey and see what else chris was hiding.

dammit. he thought angrily, he was so close, fingertips grazing his sweet little prize only to have it ripped from his hands.

he could cry.

he tried pretending like everything was alright once chris was back, helping him continue to load up the truck and carry all his music equipment safely.

a smile on his face as he chatted with chris while he was internally screaming, wishing chan had left the box out again like he previously had.

"bin, you should come over once i settle in to check out the new place yeah? i'll cook, i know you won't turn that down." chris giggles changbin smiled and nodded "of course man, i'd love to come over." "perfect, next friday yeah? it'll motivate me to actually unpack and get shit organized for a guest."

"sounds good, i'll be there."

--

but what changbin hadn't expected when he came over that friday was for chris to have company.

his pretty girlfriend sitting on the couch with a smile.

you greeted him and gestured for him to sit down. "welcome! how are you? i haven't seen you since that trip we all took over the summer."

changbin tried pushing down any thoughts he was having about you, how pretty you sound talking to him, how much prettier you would sound gagging on some cock.

his cock, preferably.

but you were chris' girlfriend so that would be off limits.

you kept a steady conversation with him as chris came back out from the kitchen, smiling and handing changbin a beer.

"how's the place? you like it? she helped me clean up nicely, got rid of all that dust and shit" he sat next to you, arm around you as he sipped his own beer.

"yeah the place looks great, chris. congrats." changbin smiled at his friend.

"hope you're hungry, we made some delicious pasta from scratch."

"we?" you spoke up and giggled

chan just laughed, knowing he tried to help but just made a mess so instead you had him wash dishes.

"dinner should be ready in about an hour. i prepared dessert too" you spoke up "oh thank you, i knew chan wasn't going to be the one fixing us a meal" changbin joked.

"he's getting better, no more burnt chicken. just needs to clean up after himself and be more careful"

chris just smiled and kissed your forehead softly, he loved you so much. you made him incredibly happy and he loved showing his affection towards you openly, especially around other people.

changbin was no exception.

"baby why don't we put on a movie or something while we wait?" "oh, sure!" you wiggled out of his grip and walked over to the tv, grabbing the remote to turn it on

"i think you'll like this movie bin, not sure if you've seen it yet" chris said

"what movie is it?" he asked but chris just smiled at him, letting the video buffer as you took your seat next to him again.

the video loaded and changbin's eyes widen as soon as he saw what was on the screen. beer almost spilling all over him as he watched you in pretty lingerie that had been carelessly ripped by chris, sprawled out for the camera to take in your wet folds, chris tracing them with a finger as he chuckled behind the camera.

"c-chris- i think- i don't think-" changbin didn't even know what to say, quickly covering his eyes with his one free hand. was chris doing this on purpose? was it an accident? he shouldn't feel turned on, pressing his legs together in hopes to tame the angry boner he had sprung.

"open your eyes binnie.. don't be shy now." chris spoke, his tone strong and a little condescending

"at least tell us if the cd you stole was good.. was it good, binnie? did you cum to it? you must've.. i saw you waiting for me to leave to take another. i hid the box before you came over though.. wanted to catch you. i knew i wasn't crazy when i saw one missing." he giggled so nonchalantly, the humiliation of being caught making changbin's cock pathetically rush with blood.

"channie told me what you did.. so cute.. come on binnie.. tell us how it felt?"

the video played in the background, sounds of your pretty moans filling the silence while changbin struggled to find words to speak.

"i-i'm sorry.." he said weakly "i-i really am i thought it was music b-but it wasn't.. i c-couldn't stop watching.. f-fuck it was just so hot.. i-i'm sorry-"

"don't be sorry, binnie.. you liked it right? hm?" you asked him, smile on your face that was making him squirm in his seat. his eyes shifting from you on the screen full of cock, to you in front of him, crawling into chris' lap. your eyes not leaving changbin's, his mouth salivating at the sight in front of him.

chris gripped a fistful of your ass as he kissed your neck. "you gonna put on a show for our guest babygirl?" chris mumbled into your skin, kneading your ass gently

"you're so sweet baby.. always so welcoming hm? good girl. daddy likes it when you're nice to his friends."

changbin felt his mouth go dry, hands shaking in his lap as he shamefully watched how chris sloppily made out with you in front of him. low grunts leaving his friend's pretty lips as you rubbed down on him.

"come closer binnie.. come look.." you beckoned him over, his feet moving faster than his brain could, quickly leaving behind the alcohol his friend had kindly offered him. he sat right next to the two of you, watching how chris expertly took your shirt off. he wondered how often you two had sex.. a lot right? given by the collection you two had curated.. chris seemed very knowledgeable and quick with his actions, almost as if it was muscle memory. like he trained himself to be able to handle you, like he trained you to be so good and perfect for his cock.

changbin's brain was so fuzzy, eyes scanning your body as chris discarded your clothes, before he knew it you were only in your panties. chris sucking eagerly on your tits while his hands played with the waistband of your underwear.

changbin was dying for a taste, wanted to touch how soft your skin was, wanted to give you goosebumps and tug on your hair and spank you until you cried out for him to stop.

chris had bent you over his lap, ass in changbin's direction so he could get a clear view. pulling your underwear aside so he could see your cunt on display. "see this, bin? she's always so fucking wet. she touched herself when i told her about what you did. came all over her own fingers.. heard her moan your name."

chris held your asscheeks open so changbin could see your pretty hole clenching around nothing "she's a bit of a cockslut.. but nothing i can't handle. look how easy she takes this.."

with that, he pressed two fingers in, your cunt sucking him in just how he knew it would. he pumped them a few times before bringing them out slowly, letting changbin see the slick coating his fingers

"here.. taste. it's the sweetest pussy you'll ever have." chris said as he held out his fingers for changbin to take.

all pride aside, changbin leaned in and took chris' fingers in his mouth, rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming. "good right? told ya so.. such a perfect cunt.." he emphasized his statement with a harsh spank. you whined as you felt chris pull you off his lap in order for him to get undressed. he threw his shirt off and pulled his pants along with his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

"can you show binnie how you good you ride daddy's cock, babygirl?"

he didn't have to tell you twice, quickly clambering into his lap again as you lined him up with your aching hole. you pressed down inch by inch, feeling the nice stretch of his cock. changbin's cock was growing impatient, he needed to feel some type of relief even if it was just his fingers. he began tugging his pants down to fist his cock, whimpering at the feeling of finally getting some friction.

"you better not fucking cum, changbin." chris scolded

changbin quickly dropped his hand, not wanting to anger his friend and make him stop.

instead he focused on the pace you had set on chris' cock, how your tits bounced with every movement, the concentrated look on your face and the way you bit your lip whenever you hit a spot that felt so good. the way you dug your fingers into chris' shoulders, how he guided you with his rough hands, his curly hair beginning to stick to his forehead.

all that alone could make changbin cum untouched.

chris trailed a hand down to where you connected, rubbing your clit to help you build up an orgasm, his other hand reached for your hair as he tugged your head back, barring your neck for him to leave a love bite.

the room echoed with noises from the video that was still playing in the background alongside your sweet whimpers as chris worked you up.

all music to changbin's ears.

it was too much for you, having chris touch you and changbin watching you come apart, your orgasm ripping through you as you chanted chris' name.

you tried collecting yourself, calming your breathing as you pulled off chris' cock but your legs felt like jelly so he helped you and gently set you besides him.

he had stood up and opened up a drawer underneath the tv, pulling out his camera and setting it on the table in front of everyone. "hope you aren't camera shy, binnie." he teased

--

once chris had finally set up the camera exactly how he wanted, he decided it was finally time to let changbin have a turn. he was his guest after all and chris always made sure his guests were comfortable and taken care of in his home.

"how do you want me binnie? tell me, sweetie.. i wanna please you.." you purred

you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited to have him inside, his cock looked delicious.. thick and so hard.. poor thing must've been struggling, his cock throbbing for attention. chris could be such a meanie.

"c-can.. can i.. taste you? want you on my face.." he said shyly

you tugged him down on the couch, having him lay beneath you as you positioned yourself on his face, caging him in.

as soon as his eyes met your pretty cunt, he was gone.

all the shame and humiliation he once felt (even if it had turned him on so badly), had completely vanished.

he was hungry.

he held you open, licking up a long strip up your cunt before he began to suck on your clit.

he was making you shake, arms feeling so wobbly as you held on to his thighs to prevent yourself from toppling over.

"oh god channie.. he's so good with is tongue.." you whimpered, kicking your head back as you let out a whiny moan.

"i think he likes the dessert you prepared for him, princess." chris teased.

you leaned forward to take changbin's tip in your mouth, sucking just harsh enough for him to buck his hips up at the pressure.

chris grabbed the camera and brought it towards you, filming the way you began to bob your head on changbin's cock. he gripped you by the hair and tugged you off, spit connecting you the the tip of changbin's cock.

"you like being a slut with binnie? like having fun with two cocks?"

you could barely even answer as you felt changbin working you up to your second orgasm, chris gripped your hair tighter to make you focus.

"can't even fucking think straight.. so damn cock hungry.." he spat

"binnie, why don't you give her what she wants hm? why don't you you fuck her nice and dumb for me?"

he pulled away from your sopping cunt, giving you a few hasty licks before chan set down the camera, grabbing you and positioning you on your hands and knees over the arm rest.

"she's all yours, binnie. take good care of that cunt for me."

chris watched as changbin lined himself up, gripping on to your hips as he rubbed his tip against your folds.

your back arched when you felt him breech your hole, his thick cock easily pushing its way inside of you, pressing so deeply it kissed your sweet spot perfectly. you felt so fucking full of him already and you were glad he was going to put that fat cock of his to good use.

he had to concentrate hard to not bust right away, your cunt wrapping around his length so good, he thought he was seeing stars.

he set a steady pace, breathing heavily as he watched his cock sink in and out of you, a ring of cream forming against his base.

"fucking like bunnies.. so cute.." chan groaned as he stroked himself to the sight of his girlfriend being treated so nicely by changbin.

"s-shit.. chris.. where do you want me to cum? i-i think i might soon.." changbin whimpered

"keep it inside of her.'

changbin swore he was having another vivid wet dream.

inside?

chris wanted him to cum inside his girlfriend?

chris wanted him to fill her with his seed?

breed her and leave her stuffed full of him?

changbin closed his eyes tightly, it didn't matter how hard he tried to clear his head and focus, he was a weak, weak man.

"i'm close too, binnie.. touch me.. wanna cum with you.." you pleaded.

he took a shaky breath as he pressed his chest flush against your back, allowing him easier access to reach over and rub your clit.

his thrusts becoming sloppy as he bit into your shoulder to ground himself. he could feel you clenching on him, consistent moans leaving your lips as you got closer and closer to your peak.

it wasn't long before you turned into putty underneath him, cumming with his name on your tongue which was enough to make him shoot out as well. he kept still making sure every drop seeped into you and did not got to waste.

he kissed your shoulder gently before he carefully pulled out as to not spill on chris' couch.

"stay still babygirl.. daddy wants to fuck binnie's cum into you. make sure it stays in you real good, kay?"

this would not be the last time changbin would make a cameo in chris' homemade sex tapes.

unfortunately, it came at the expense of dinner being ruined that night due to negligence. blame it on changbin and his horny antics.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[mmso-notlikethat]

It's been 3 months, Buck baked every single thing in the universe that could be baked, and those urges to reach out to Tommy have never been stronger

So he decided that he had enough, it doesn't matter anymore if no one thinks its a good idea, if everybody keep telling him its a bad choice, he is going to talk to Tommy today and no one is stopping him

He opened the message thread between them and started typing, "Hey... how are you?" Nope, delete."Yo, what are you doing?" What the hell Buck, he isn't your buddy, delete. "You are an asshole Tommy" No, that's not what i really want to say, delete. Delete, delete, delete...

and his eyes started burning because three months ago, this was the easiest, most natural thing he would do, pick up the phone, and just text tommy whatever his fingers would write and now he cant even ask him a simple question

So he called Tommy, that's easier, he will figure out what to say when Tommy picks up. Yeah, that seemed logical.. after the 3rd unanswered call, the anger in his chest was about to burst, Tommy who answered every time buck called, didn't matter if it was in the middle of the night, during shift, while he was out with some other friends, he answered every single time, what do you mean he isn't answering...

Oh wait, the anger turned into fear, he isn't answering, tommy would always answer his phone, "What if he's in trouble and he needs my help?" His mind goes again

Oh fuck it, he grabs his jacket, his keys, and march to his truck. Only after he is halfway to Tommy's he thinks that Tommy could be on a shift, but well, he is halfway there whatever he'll see himself

Good Tommy's truck is there, which means he is home, the lights in his living room were off, and the house felt way too quiet. Buck launched to the front door, rang the bell, and after one second, he started knocking aggressively, "Open this door, Tommy, you don't get to ignore me. You hear that? I've been calling you, and you are not answering? Really? That's it? you wouldn't even answer after i called three fucking times?" For three minutes he kept knocking until he felt his hand burning

"You know what? I'm coming in. I don't care, Tommy!" He fished the spare key he knew Tommy kept under one of the fake stones, his hands were shaking, mirroring the state of his heart, he was terrified of every horrible scenario his mind was giving him at that moment, as he was furious of the fact that Tommy could ever ignore him

His shaky hands didn't make the whole mission easier. The second between unlocking the door and entering the house felt like an eternity. As soon as he stepped inside, he felt the coldness, the house where he always felt warmth and welcome, where he felt like he was at home. He stopped for a second thinking what–

As Buck stood in the silent house, his unease grew with every passing second. The place felt wrong—off. The dust on the furniture was undisturbed, thick enough to suggest weeks of neglect.

Dust. Tommy hated dust-he was borderline obsessive about keeping his home spotless, often wiping down counters or dusting furniture as a reflex.

The air had a faint, stale quality to it, lacking the usual warmth and subtle scents that always reminded him of Tommy. His eyes flicked to the calendar by the fridge, and his stomach twisted. It still showed the date from two months ago, like a snapshot frozen in time.

His grip on his phone tightened, his frustration bubbling over as he paced back and forth.

"What the hell, Tommy? You don’t just vanish! I called you three times—three times! And nothing? Not even a text?"

His voice cracked as his anger shifted to fear, and he stopped pacing, his eyes darting around the room. "This isn’t like you," he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

His hands trembled as he fumbled trying to hold on something, the sharp edge of panic clawing at his chest. "You better have a good reason for this, Tommy," he whispered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Deep down, he already knew this wasn’t nothing—something was very, very wrong.

[bigification]

Just one of the Boys

I feel so free now. Being able to go hitch hiking across the country after university is such an amazing opportunity. Some of the conversation is really weird, some of it is just plain boring, but I shouldn't be complaining though considering these people are driving me around for free. I mainly just get truckers who have been driving with nothing but the radio all day. This time was weird though. A truck full of older men picked me up while I was walking on the side of the road.

"Hop in buddy!" The man in shotgun shouts at me as they pull over.

It seems odd, but it beats walking and it might lead to some interesting conversation. As interesting as middle aged men in Texas have to say at least. I hop in the back of the truck and I'm immediately squished from the man sitting next to me and the seat in front of me. All three of the men in this truck must have been around 300 pounds each, I have no idea why they thought there would be room for another person. I can manage because I'm a relatively small person, but fuck is it not comfortable.

"Name's Tom." The man driving says in a deep southern accent. "This here is Kent." He taps the man riding shotgun. "And the fellow right next to ya is Luke."

"Denis, nice to meet you guys." I say awkwardly as they all stare at me.

"So what is a boy like you doin' in the middle of nowhere." Tom asks.

"Well I just graduated, so I figured I would travel the world before I settle down."

"Once you get a wife, they'll tie ya down like a ton a bricks. Better have your fun while ya can." Luke says and punches my shoulder as the three men erupt into laughter. I just chuckle and smile along, I have the feeling this is gonna be a long trip.

"We come out here every chance we get to fish, and it gives us a break from the family. Just a weekend fishin trip with the boys." Kent says.

"Why don't you grab a beer boy, we got plenty."

"Oh I don't really drink beer, but thanks anyway."

"Why, is it cuz your scared it'll make ya look like us." Luke says as he pats his gut.

"Grab one would ya, what's the harm." Tom insists.

I give in, I don't particularly like beer but I'll drink it if they want me to that bad. I open the cooler behind my seat and see dozens of full beer cans. It kinda shocks me given how many empty can are in the truck, they must have already drank nearly a dozen in the car ride and they have that many more. No wonder they're 300 pounds.

"You gotta girlfriend, boy?" Tom asks as I crack open my beer. The question makes me pause for a moment. I'm hesitant to tell them I have a boyfriend back home, but telling them I don't have a girlfriend technically wouldn't be a lie.

"No" I nervously respond.

"Well the girls are dumb to not want ya."

I wasn't expecting such a sweet response, but that was nice.

"Ya plenty of girls are into chubby guys like you, in sure you won't have no problem getting yourself a wife."

The comment kind of surprised me considering I'm a pretty skinny guy.

"Luke! The hell's wrong with you, that's no way to speak to a guest."

I look down and I'm shocked to see a small belly poking through my shirt. What the hell!? I had basically no fat on my body like 10 minutes ago, what happened.

"Don't listen to Luke, he's just being a dick."

Their words surprisingly comforted me. I started to remember all the partying I did in university, and all the beer I drank, it's no wonder I have a little bit of a beer belly.

"Well what have you done since university?"

The question confused me a bit considering I said I had just graduated before leaving for this trip.

"I just graduated."

"Oh, I just assumed it's been a while since you look a bit too old to be just graduatin school."

The comment confused me even more, I don't look a day older than 22. I glance at the rearview mirror and see my face in the reflection. I look.. at least 30. The more I think about it the more it makes sense though, I've been a software engineer since graduating.

"Oh ya, you had me all confused, I'm a software engineer."

"Rich guy over here, that must make you a lot of money."

"It makes enough." I try not to elaborate.

Tom cuts into the conversation. "Why don't you have another beer boy, we got plenty of time."

I might as well, I guess I can stay with them as long as they let me. I grab another beer and crack it open.

"With a pretty face like yours and a job like that, you must have a beautiful wife don't ya."

I just told them I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't know why I lied about that. Now that I think about it, I have a wife and daughter.

"And a beautiful baby back home." I say proudly.

"Well that explains the belly growin on ya. A man your age doesn't get a tank like that unless he's got a kid."

"Luke, would ya stop it with the comments about his belly, your makin him uncomfortable."

I look down at my gut again and see that it's doubled in size since I last looked at it. But then again, I have been gaining a lot of weight since the baby was born, so it makes sense. I might be needing some new clothes now that I look at it, my shirt is riding up my belly.

"It's alright." I respond. "Ever since the baby, I haven't been able to control this belly."

"We know the feelin. We all met before we got married and we were all 150. I still remember Tom hit 300 by the time his first turned 1 and we never let him hear the end of it."

"Don't listen to them Denis. Kent hit 300 before his first kid was even born, those beers really took a toll."

As they're talking, I grab another beer. I feel like I'm going through these beers like they're nothing, they taste amazing.

"Just considering yourself lucky that you didn't hit 300 pounds by the time you turned 40."

"Well I certainly am gettin there." I'm shocked as I hear a southern twang in my voice when I say that.

"Ya sure are, that shirt don't fit ya like it used to."

I look down and see that my gut is spilling out onto my lap, my shirt has ridden up nearly to my chest. It looks more like a bra at this point.

"Why don't you grab one of my fishin shirts back there, it might fit ya better."

It's slightly embarrassing, but I appreciate the offer. I grab a white shirt from behind my seat and put it on. It's surprisingly tight on me considering these guys are so much bigger than me. Honestly now that I look at them, they're not even that big, at least not that much bigger than me. Id say it's about average for a man our age to be this big. Only those millennials with their damn diets stay skinny, it's not our fault real men like their beer and steak. I kinda pause in shock that the thought ran through my mind, but I slowly felt more confident in that opinion.

"So I'm sure you've got teenagers by this age, they must be a handful."

"Oh I've got two, they really push my buttons sometimes. They're why Ive got so many grey hairs already."

"Well you must be pushing 50, just be glad you ain't got more. Luke went full grey by 40."

"With the way his wife treats him, I'm surprised he even has any hair left."

I joke, making the boys erupt into laughter. It kinda felt weird makin a joke about Luke's wife when I've never met the woman, but I met her just last week at the barbeque. She really is a handful. It felt good makin the boys laugh, I really feel like I'm fittin in good with them.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you Denis, ever since you met that wife a yours, that waistline has never been the same."

"That's right, I still remember when we met you way back, you were just a skinny young man. You must have been 140 pounds soakin wet, and now look at ya, you can't even fit into your own damn clothes."

I blush with embarrassment as I look down and see that my fly is wide open. My button must've flown right off without me noticing.

"It's all those damn beers he's been drinkin"

Luke punches my shoulder and points at the pile of empty beer cans at my feet. I didn't even realize how many I went through, and I barely feel drunk. Though it is pretty normal for big guys like me to have to drink more to get drunk, I sure as hell don't mind drinking more.

"Oh get off his ass Luke, you know damn well you drink just as much as him. And by the way Denis, we don't mind if you need to take your pants off if they get too small."

It seems strange that Tom would say that, but we've known each other for so long now so who cares. It's not gay if I still have my underwear on. I struggle to pull the skin tight jeans to my ankles and relax as my legs spread.

"Alright boys, we made it."

We pull into a long driveway with a small cabin by the water. Everyone hops out and grabs their stuff before walkin to the cabin. I sheepishly get out of the truck with my pants at my knees.

"Damn, you've really packed it on since our last fishin trip." Tom says as he slaps my gut, it looks almost like he's salivating lookin at me. "You must be the biggest in the group now."

I blush at the compliment. I fully take off my jeans and walk to the cabin. I'm shocked to see how small the cabin is. It has one room with a kitchen and living room on one side and two small beds on the other.

"Where's everyone gon' sleep?"

"Those two beds right there. Luke and Kent can share that bed, you'll be with me boy."

He pushes me into the bed.

"I'm gonna have fun fattening you up like the pig you are."

I look over to the other bed and see that Luke and Kent are already makin out.

"Hey, eyes on me fat boy. Consider this your initiation as one of the boys."

Tom pins me under his weight and starts kissin me. I'm certainly not gay, but Tom is a handsome fella so I certainly won't mind. Oh and the ways he touches me, my wife could never. It's like the devil is tempting me, I'll just have to confess when I go to church next sunday. But then I'll do it all again next fishin trip with the boys.

[nyanwrites]

A peculiar zombie person!

(A RANFREN OC FANFIC)

✦•······················•✦PART ONE✦•······················•✦

Luther sat quietly in the passenger's seat, feeling quite a bit excited. They were going camping after all. Nyen was quietly driving them along and Randal, Nyon & Nyao were sitting in the back. It was fairly nice and quiet until-

"Hou~" Randal cooed.

"Hou?" Luther said in a questioning tone. "When you say things and make noises, make things we can make sense of, please. Thank you."

"I think I see a woman with her brain exposed up ahead!" Randal replied with a small laugh. Luther turned with a small snapping sound.

"Her brain exposed? Well, I heard that some could die if their brain is exposed for too long. We should help her, shouldn't we?" Luther said with a tilt of his head. Randal gave him an indifferent shrug. "Your choice, not mine." Luther quickly snapped his neck back to the front and noticed what Randal was talking about...

A fairly tall human woman, with pale skin and blonde hair, and standing on the sidewalk with a dazed look. And as Randal said, her brain was exposed, and blood was dripping down her face. She made no effort to wipe it off. She also stank of alcohol and smoke.

"Poor woman..." Luther sighed, his face still expressionless. He turned his head to his pink-haired catman and ordered. "Stop in front of that woman. I heard humans could die if left like that." Nyen let out a small grunt before reluctantly stopping in front of the woman.

The human blinked before raising her head a little, still dazed. Luther noticed she had a cigarette in between her lips. Well, that just wouldn't do.

"Humans can't teleport, brother," Randal muttered suddenly, interrupting Luther's thoughts. Luther didn't shift his eyes away from the woman. "As long as she's not rude, I'll help her. This trip is about self-improvement and bonding. It's okay."

"Rightt.." Randal said in a sing-songy voice. "And if she's an asshole?" "Then I'll make sure she's never seen again." Luther replied simply. "That's the spirit!" Randal responded in a giddy tone.

Luther noticed the woman was still standing still, making no effort to even tap on the door. Poor thing. Luther snapped his head back to the others before speaking. "Now, because I'm allowing someone on, I want everyone on their best behavior, alright? Just be as normal as you possibly can."

Luther turned back to the woman, who was still standing still and quietly. He kicked the door open before speaking again. "Out of the goodness in my heart, I'll give you a ride. So, please, come in. You are in horrible condition." He stretched his hand out expectantly.

He had heard that humans would act quite dazed and wobbly when their brain is exposed.

The woman stared at his hand for a moment, her dark, eyeshadow-covered eyelids twitching quite a bit. She slowly but carefully lifted her hand and kept it in his much longer, skinny one. She let out a small chuckle.

Luther then spoke again. "Before you enter... Hmm..." It would be rude to give a human with their brain exposed such a stern lecture, especially since they probably wouldn't even get it. "How about you just be good, is that clear?" He tilted his head to the side, a small cracking sound emitting from his neck.

The young human stayed quiet for a moment, eyes half-lidded before finally speaking. "Alrighty... Sir." Her voice was low and raspy, as expected from a human who smoked. "Then welcome," Luther replied, pulling her into the truck carefully. The human clumsily got in as followed along with Luther.

Randal stared at the woman curiously, taking a close look at her. The woman was peculiar but what he found most peculiar was that her brain was exposed for likely so long and yet she was still alive! He heard that that was impossible for humans. Or perhaps...

"SHE'S A ZOMBIE!!" Randal yelled out, not with fear but with enthusiasm and excitement. The dazed human giggled a bit at how he yelled but didn't say anything.

"Randal, watch your manners. She's a new person."

✦•······················•✦T.B.C✦•······················•✦

(yeah uh sorry gang I was too busy to complete it but I still wanted to post SOMETHING here so yeah :,3)

(Hope u guys likes it tho :])

[oneforthemunny]

OMG HORNY HOURS so hear me out!!!! So I'll give you a scenario where the reader is super jealous of something that happened with eddie (preferably cowboy/mafia are my favourite) like an ex or something that appeared out of nowhere. And she is extremely bratty, so eddie has no other choice than to discipline her. But in the end, he would probably explain to her that there's no reason for any jealousy. He would assure her of that and make sure that her feelings are being validated

I feel like this is more cowboy!eddie. not sure an ex would do that to mafia!eddie.

minors dni 18+. look at @munsonology page for more cowboy!eddie

but I could see a notorious buckle bunny, one Eddie had hooked up with on a few occasions just because she was always there (and he was horny), out at a bar. he liked to go to this quiet bar downtown, it never had a super rowdy crowds, more of the locals and a good song selection- not just line dancing country.

he'd drink a few beers, munch on the bar nuts, and be happy to be in your company, have his sweet girl cuddled up next to him, grinning at the way you got giggly and blushy after a few drinks.

"well, look what the cat dragged in," sabrina, the buckle bunny, purred from behind eddie, long nails scratching down his shirt. "haven't seen you in a while, baby."

you grit your teeth, glaring meanly at her then back at eddie. eddie just awkwardly nods, shrugs her off as politely as he can. "yeah, been busy." he mutters, taking a swig of his beer. "good seein' ya, sab." he nods.

you bristle at the nickname, watching her retreat, but that isn't enough. you glare at him for a moment, watching him shrug questioningly at you, before you're huffing, sliding to the opposite end of the booth.

"baby, what? what's wrong?" eddie sighs, shoulders falling slightly.

"fuck off." you mutter bitterly, lips latching to the tiny black straw. "go talk to sab." you sneer, rolling your eyes.

"why are you mad?" eddie asked gently, scooting closer to you. "what did I do, honey?"

"don't play stupid with me, ed. god, go fuck your little whore over there. I don't want to interrupt the two of you." you snap loudly, loud enough for the table next to you to give you a sideways glance.

eddie blushes deep, leaning closer to you. "hey, enough, alright? she's not my whore or whatever, ok? I told her to leave-"

"-no, you told her it was good seeing her." you snapped, slamming your drink down on the table. "and it is, isn't it? it's sooo good seeing her isn't it, eddie? you bastard." you were in the mood for a fight, blame it on the whiskey. he should be glad it wasn't tequila, or you'd be liable to throw the glass at sab and her shitty extensions.

"can you keep it down?" eddie hissed. "do I need to take you outside, huh?"

your thighs clenched together at the threat, tummy somersaulting with that tingling excitement. you hadn't meant for this to be the turn of events for the evening, but you certainly weren't mad at it. especially not with the way his gruff tone, rasping and low made you throb.

"ooh, so scary." you mocked with an exaggerated eye roll and scoff. "you're all talk, big shot. sab probably doesn't know that or she wouldn't be all over you."

eddie's up, pushing you gently out of the booth, hand steadying your hip, slapping a wad of bills on the table to cover his tab. his hand is on your arm, pulling you across the sticky wooden floors out to his truck.

"you wanna keep runnin' that mouth? keep on, darlin', and I'll tan your hide right here. show e'rebody in there what happens to bratty girls who can't be sweet to their daddy's." eddie snarled. your heart leapt when he still opened the door of his truck for you, squealing when his hand cracked down on your sundress clad ass when you passed him to climb inside.

"oh, just you wait, honey. you're in need of a big attitude adjustment when we get home." eddie snapped, knee bouncing and eyes dark with need when he pulled out of the parking lot.

you were hauled across his knee on the porch, straddling his thigh, thick belt tied back your hands, his heavy, calloused palm peppering your ass with shining swats until you were squirming and crying out. your clit was swollen, rubbing against eddie's jean clad thigh with every smack, knowing you were undoubtedly dripping and smearing your release onto his pants.

eddie pulled you up finally, your ass glowing and stinging with an uncomfortable burn you were desperate to rub out. "you gonna be my sweet girl again?" eddie asked, fighting back a smile at your pouty expression, sniffling and lip jutted. "gonna be good f'me?"

"yes, daddy." you sniffled, hands wiggling behind your back, still tied together. "ed, can you take this off please?" you asked.

he obliged, of course, undoing the belt, rubbing at your wrists lightly and holding you close to him. he could feel your sticky, hot cunt on his thigh, his own erection pressing into you, but he knew you needed to be held then.

"what's goin' on with you, huh?" eddie asked in a low rasp. "actin' out and for what?"

you huffed, tucking your chin into his chest. "I don't like the way she was touching you and looking at you." you admitted. "I didn't like it when she did that."

"I'm sorry." eddie said, heavy hand that was spanking you earlier, now rubbing up and down your spine. "but you know there's no need to get jealous, baby. she ain't nothin' to me. not with you, honey, there's no comparison."

you blushed, pushing your face deeper into his shirt, smelling that spicy cologne he doused himself in for date night. it always left you dizzy and swooning. "nobody's better than you. you're my best girl. my one and only, you know that." eddie muttered, lips on your hair line, pressing a kiss into your hair sweetly.

"you promise?" you asked, looking up at him with a lifted brow. "you're not gonna leave me for some dime store cowgirl with a shitty spray tan."

eddie snorted, grinning lightly at the reference. "no thank ya. don't want that ever. I only want my sweet, spoiled, girl forever." he tilted his head down, so his face was inches from yours. "only want you, honey, no one else."

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 12

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I am SO HAPPY to finally be updating!! Please enjoy reading!

Rick and my Dad return alone in the afternoon.

I only have a short moment to be disappointed that they didn't find Sophia before something else steals my attention. After I recounted my time in the woods to all the adults, and how I almost ran into Jim right before being attacked by a walker, everyone's moods have gone from tense to tenser — especially Shane's. As soon as Rick and Dad make it back, he bounds down the RV steps and makes a beeline for 'em with those angry, balled fists'a his, and that stressed-out walk that makes his dog-tag sway. I crack the window open an inch so I can listen in on what he has to say.

"Listen," He huffs as he approaches. "We got a problem."

Rick cringes lightly. "Another one?"

My Dad, as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against a nearby truck, lets his gaze wonder over to the RV, where he knows I'm staying. He glances at the tyres, the side-mirror, the roof, but never the window.

"Not a new one. An old one." Shane scoffs lightly. "Jim."

Suddenly, my Dad's all ears.

"Hell you mean?"

"Jim Davison. Your daughter just told me she almost ran straight in'a him while she was alone out there." He says. "Said she found his clothes hangin' on a line by a tent, his cap, the knife, the rope. And the way she described this thing — I believe her."

"Jim?" Rick frowns.

"Ain't nobody else wonderin' around out here with a Detroit Tigers cap and one'a Dale's steak knives." He shrugs. "It's him."

"Damn it." My Dad grumbles to himself, sounding exhausted.

"We knew there was a possibility he'd make it out." Rick sighs, as if that helps anythin'. "Hell, I mean, we banked on it."

"We banked on it, alright, but only 'cause the alternative was a whole lot worse." Shane retorts. "I mean, we were one peanut butter jar away from leavin' him there to starve, Rick, and I'm honestly startin' to wish we had. Them last couple days he was with us... the shit he was sayin'—"

My Dad interrupts him. "She almost ran into him, she said? He ain't get to her?"

Get to her, makes it sound like Jim wants to do somethin' bad to me, which is a scary thought. Me gettin' scratched was the whole reason he got abandoned in the first place, and even before then, he weren't my biggest fan. I always wondered why that was.

"Y'know, Daryl," Shane scoffs to himself, "How 'bout you go ask her yourself?"

Dad stiffens.

"Bendin' over backwards to find one lil' girl, while there's another'un back here wonderin' where the Hell her Daddy's gone off to." Shane argues, almost disgusted by the sight of my Dad right now. "You even seen her since yesterday?"

Dad has nothing to say to that, 'cause the answer's no.

"You even care how her wound's healin'? She could be on her death bed right now and you wouldn't even know."

"Shane, back off a little." Rick says quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I say we go kill him." My Dad suggests randomly, and with passion. "I say we go and find that damn camp and finish the job. Harley should know where it is. It's just the one tent, right? Easy fucking pickings. I've killed turkey's tougher than that lil' wimp, and I'll do it again."

"I ain't so sure that a wise idea." Rick disagrees.

"I'on give a shit about wise." Dad warns. "I give a shit about my kid."

Shane scoffs at that, 'cause of course he does.

Dad catches it. "What? You got somethin' you wanna say?"

"Oh yeah, I got somethin' I wanna say." He sasses, mirroring my Dad as he begins to straighten; begins to plan where exactly on his body that'll hurt and bleed and bruise the most. "I ain't got nothin' you wanna hear, though, 'cause—"

"Oh, who am I kiddin', you always got somethin' you wanna say."

"—you're livin' in denial, Daryl."

"Well, you ain't gonna be livin' at all in a minute, if you ain't careful."

"Oh, how classy's that?"

"Guys." Rick intervenes.

As the argument escalates, I pull the curtain back across the window to hide away from it all, pulling the covers over my face. All I can do is hope that Shane doesn't decide to blurt out anythin' stupid like, Remember when you belted your kid, Daryl, in front of Rick, 'cause Rick's a cop, too, and I already got one too many'a those things pokin' around me and my Dad's business. I lay there for about five minutes, after which the shoutin' stops, and then I lay there for about twenty more minutes, wondering once more where my Dad's gone off to. I wonder if he's gone to kill Jim.

I'm fiddling with Matilda's hair when I hear talking coming from outside the RV, this time much quieter than before. I lift the covers to hear better, confused. It sounds like my Dad's voice. Footsteps approach my door, and those also sound like they belong to him.

I sit up just in time to see my Dad standing in the doorway.

"Knock, knock." He says tiredly.

I'm shocked.

"Dad?"

He comes forward and sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at me placidly; wordlessly. I catch myself studying his face for new scrapes or bumps, but it looks like the fight didn't have the chance to turn physical, 'cause all I see is a single grape-colored bruise around his tender-looking eye. It feathers all the way up to his brow, paling to sickly yellows and greens as it goes. A stain of revenge. It's good to see his face in the light again. It's good that there's no anger there. He takes in my sun-burnt face; my bug-bitten neck. He reaches out and sets the warm palm of his hand — Not a nice hand or a mean hand. Just a hand — down on my stomach through the covers, over my wound, where just one day ago I was bleeding buckets of blood all over him. He frowns to himself and pulls away. Then he leans forward and pecks me gently on the brow. 

I don't even flinch. I don't stiffen, or gasp, or nothin'.

"I'll sing for you tonight, chicken." He tells me softly. It's not a suggestion, it's a statement, just like how I'm sorry is a statement. "So don't go nowhere."

That almost makes me giggle; almost makes me forget about the way my side is aching and my friend is missing. I think Dale and Lori, the worry-warts that they are, would have heart attacks if I tried to leave the RV.

He almost smiles, too.

"There's somethin' I gotta do, but I'll be back by dark."

"Okay." I happily agree. "I'll wait."

It's not a lot, but I'll take it. I'm just glad he visited me at all.

If Shane saw this — My Dad tryna be nice, and me lettin' him without question— he'd go mad. I don't know why I consider this, though, 'cause when have I ever cared about what Shane thinks? When'd he sneak into my brain?

After giving me one last kiss, this time on my forehead, my Dad gets up and hesitantly leaves the room.

"Look after her." I hear him tellin' Dale.

"Will do." He responds softly.

The door to the RV shuts.

I know my Dad wants to murder Jim like he murdered Ronnie, and he would shoot Shane without hesitation, and he yells at me and belts me and avoids talking to me, and that Shane thinks he's a monster, but even monsters can love — And love from a monster is better than no love at all.

I fall asleep with a fuller heart than usual.

"With tails in the air, they trotted on down past the shops and the park to the far end of town." Dale reads over the rims of his spectacles, the Hairy Maclary book propped up in his lap. "They sniffed at the smells, and they snooped at each other, when suddenly, out of the shadows they saw—"

"Scar-face Claw." I snarl with a grin.

The page turns, revealing... Scare-face Claw, the toughest Tom in town. Yes! I knew it. I love this part. I've read it a hundred times.

Dale, sitting next to me on the sofa, grins and sets the book down.

"You know what? I'm starting to think you know every page off by heart, young lady."

"I used to have almost all the books." I proudly say.

"Oh? Did you have this one in your collection?" He asks.

"Yeah," I nod, "It's my favorite."

"Lucky you," He bumps me gently. "Out of all the books in the world, your Dad found this one just for you."

I smile. He resumes reading, putting on a silly, not-very-Dale-like voice for Scar-face Claw like he always does when we reach this page. I never thought I'd hear Dale Horvath, deep-thinker and RV-fixer, go Meeeoow before, but I never thought my Dad would be nice to me ever again, neither, so today is just full of happy surprises.

We're near the end when T-Dog comes in.

He spots me and Dale on the sofa and chuckles. "This place is turnin' into a damn infirmary, ain't it? How you doin', little nerd?"

He juts his chin in my direction.

His forearm is wrapped in a red t-shirt that I'm pretty sure ain't actually meant to be red, and there's a subtle grimace built into his usually very cheery features. I guess he hurt his arm that day I went missing. It's good to see him standing at least, which is more than I can say for myself.

"I ain't so bad," I shrug, smiling.

"Had it pretty rough out there, huh?"

"I killed a walker." I tell him, 'cause it's fun to say. "Killed it dead all by myself."

He seems to find that funny. "I heard. Maybe I should start callin' ya little badass, instead."

I giggle.

"We're making the most of house-arrest by doing some reading." Dale says. "Gotta take it easy on those stitches before getting back out there, right?" He winks at me before turning back to T-Dog. "And how are you? The arm still giving you grief?"

"I's just lookin' for them clap-pills Daryl found. They in here?"

"The Doxycycline?" Dale deadpans.

"Yeah. The Doxy-whatever."

"Idiot... I suppose it is coming up for your third dose." He concedes with a great big sigh. "They're in the right cupboard, top shelf."

He pulls open the kitchen cupboard and retrieves the white bottle of pills that Jacqui made me take a couple hours ago. It's got my Uncle's name printed on the tag, which means it weren't picked up from a pharmacy or a dumpster — It came from my Dad. Jacqui said he offered 'em up the second I was outta his arms last night. It also had his birthday on it, which made me feel all bad on the inside, 'cause people don't get birthdays once they're dead, and the word Doxycycline, but it ain't had no clap on it. I thought clap was somethin' you did with your hands.

As T-Dog pops the cap, I ask, "What's clap?"

Are clap-pills for people who can't stop clapping? But T-Dog ain't clapping, and neither am I... Hm. Weird.

"Oh, Lord." He says, before downing two pills.

Dale answers more gracefully. "It's definitely not something you need to know about, that's for sure."

"Why not?"

T-Dog gives me an amused look as he puts the bottle back. "Trust me, kid, let's leave it at that. Ignorance is bliss."

Hm. I guess I'll never know.

"How many of those are left, anyway?" Dale asks him.

"Uh... 'Bout a handful." He guesses, sitting down in the booth. A hiss leaves his mouth as he peels the shirt back, revealing a line of thin, black X's stitched into his skin that look exactly like mine. He shakes his head, as if he just disagrees with his entire arm. "If they start to run out and we still ain't any better, I gotta say — The pills can go to Harley. I ain't gonna hog her chance at healin'."

"Don't be silly," Dale scolds him, taking off his glasses, which means he means business. "You're both gonna heal."

"Yeah," I parrot, "I don't mind sharin'. Not one bit."

"I'm just thinkin' rationally, here." T-Dog shrugs.

"I'm not too sure you are." Dale hums. "I think you're being pessimistic."

"Man," He tsks, annoyed, "Ain't we been worryin' about runnin' outta stuff since day one of this shit? We know how this goes. It goes in ya mouth, it ain't comin' back out again — Not in any useful way, at least... Same goes for pills. Simple as that. And when that happens, I'm sayin' Harley can have 'em. I'll be damned if she don't."

"Don't give up just because you can. Who's to say we won't find more medicine by then?"

"Common sense."

Dale looks like he's tryin' really hard to not roll his eyes.

"Okay, fine." He unhappily agrees. "For your peace of mind — Okay. But I'm telling you, this whole go-on-without-me thing is starting to get old."

He looks unconvinced.

"You believe this guy?" Dale murmurs to me funnily.

This makes him crack a smile. "Whatever, man."

"Oh, no, please. Keep offering your noble word to us, your highness." Dale jokes, making me giggle. T-Dog shakes his head, goin' okay, okay, okay, as Dale really rubs it in. "It was just getting good. That part about 'give them to Harley', oh, that was a clincher, that was. Almost made me tear up."

"Okay, old man, I get it." T-Dog chuckles. "Dang. You believe this guy?"

"I think you're both unbelievable." I say.

Dale grins. "That's it, then. You heard the girl."

"'Sides, you got more stitches than me." I tell T-Dog. "I bet it hurts worse, too. You were awake when they did yours, weren't you?"

I got lucky, 'cause I was knocked out when I got my stitches done.

He nods, tracing his wound with a finger. He makes himself laugh by saying, "Awake and screamin', that is."

"Oh, you weren't that bad." Dale dismisses.

"When they brought out that damn spool of fishing line, I just about squealed like a little girl."

"Fishing line?"

"Oh, you don't know?" He asks, and I shake my head no. "Oh, yeah. The pills weren't the only thing your Dad offered up. When Jacqui saw how deep your wound was and started talking 'bout stitches, he got out his tackle box like Mary Poppins and gave her a bunch of fishing line to make it happen. Needle came from a sewing kit we found in a car. If that's not the definition of making the best of what ya got, I'on know what is."

I pull a face, glancing at my side. "So I got fishing line in my belly right now?"

T-Dog takes great joy in saying, "Yep."

"Eugh. That's weird."

"Well, we had to use something."

I never really gave too much thought to how the stitches got there.

"I guess we won't be catchin' fish anytime soon." I muse.

"It's a good thing we got plenty of pretzels and yoghurt bars, then." Dale jokes. 

T-Dog groans. "Oh, that's right! I forgot about those!"

He suddenly starts digging into the large rucksack sitting on the table, pulling out three blue packets and a couple pink and white bars.

"You hungry over there?" He asks me, before throwing some pretzels into my lap.

I catch 'em, smiling. "You're right. These are way better than fish."

"And skunk." T-Dog adds under his breath, ripping open a packet for himself. "Definitely better than skunk."

"Nothing to get the immune system back into shape than unhealthy amounts of sodium, huh?" Dale chuckles lightly, settling his spectacles back onto the hump of his nose. He re-positions the forgotten story book on his knees, thumbing through the pages. "How about we pick up where we left off, Harley? And T-Dog, you can stay, too, if you'd like. You're not too old for picture books, are you?"

"Hell, no." He enthuses. He makes himself comfortable in the booth, ready to indulge in the wonders of Hairy Maclary with us. "Read away, gramps."

I tear the packet apart and pop a pretzel into my mouth.

"Alright, then." Dale clears his throat. "Off with a yowl, and a wail and a howl—"

I'll be back by dark.

That's what he said, weren't it?

Then why is it night-time and he still ain't returned?

Story-time with Dale and T-Dog was fun and all, but now it's dark and the moon is out.

I think something's wrong.

This is when I realize, as cold chill crawls down the back of my neck, that I don't actually know where he is. He didn't say where he was goin', or what he was doin' — He just said I'll be back by dark, and that means nothin' to me, 'cause it ain't true. He could be in the woods, he could be somewhere along the highway, he could be hurt, or dead, or lost, or in some type of trouble that would keep him from comin' back—

"Dale," I nervously call out from the bedroom, nibbling on my fingernail. "C—? C'mere, please?"

I watch the darkened horizon become even darker by the second through the window, disturbed that I don't see my Dad there at all.

The door opens, but it's not Dale who pokes his head in — It's Rick.

"What's wrong, honey?" He asks me, glancing around the room as if expecting the bogeyman to have wriggled out from under the bed.

I tense.

"Where's Dale?" I ask, 'cause bein' alone with Rick is like bein' alone with a semi-poisonous gas. He's too much — even if he tries to make himself too little, like he is right now by speaking gently and sticking to standing in the doorway, 'cause he knows that any little thing could set me off. With enough pretending, he's a Dad and a leader and a friend who's saved my life twice over, but one little slip and he's the man who killed my Uncle again. I've gotten used to him by now, but my old English teacher used to say that frogs get used to boiling water if you heat it slowly enough.

"I don't know, actually." He seems to regret saying. "He was just on his way out and told me to keep an eye on things in 'ere."

Rick's been 'keeping an eye' on me?

Shouldn't he be out looking for my Dad, who said he'd be back by dark?

For somebody who's got two people unaccounted for right now, Rick's pretty calm, which makes me think he don't actually know my Dad's missing at all, which would mean Dad didn't tell anybody else he was leavin', which means it was a secret he only told me. Why would he do that?

"You want me to get Lori?" Rick offers nicely. "She's right outside. She'll be happy to help out with whatever you need."

I must stay quiet for some time, staring out the window, 'cause Rick speaks up again.

"Harley, are you alright?" He asks, clearly concerned.

Not really, I want to say, but I'm supposed to keep Dad's secrets. I've kept the CDC a secret, why can't I keep this one?

He steps inside, now, and cautiously sits on the edge of the bed. He even reaches out to feel my forehead, but I lean away a little.

"Is it your side?" He guesses. "You hurtin' again?"

"I'm worried." I whisper, a bit cryptic, like breaking little pieces off the secret won't make it as scary.

Rick frowns. "About what?"

"About— About my Dad."

I can keep the CDC a secret 'cause it's only me who was hurt, but it might be my Dad who's hurt this time, and that's worse.

"Why're you worried about your Dad, honey?" He asks, tilting his head, utterly confused. He might be thinking about last night, in the woods with my Dad. He knows something is up between him and Shane, and he's right. That's the other secret I'm keeping. I almost wish I could spoon feed him little crumbs of that one, too, 'cause it would be so easy, but I gotta remind myself I'm not doin' any of that. Not ever. "What's wrong?"

"I think he went somewhere." I say think, even though I should say know, 'cause I wanna be wrong so bad. "I think he should be back by now."

"Did he tell you he was leaving?"

I nod lightly.

"Leaving where?"

Chewing on my lip, I shrug.

I don't know where he went.

Rick stares down at his boots like there are little equations etched into the leather, and then turns to me again.

"And you didn't tell anybody?" He sighs.

Is he frustrated with me right now? I should be the one who's frustrated! It's my Dad that's missin'.

"No, I didn't tell anybody." I say angrily. "'Cause I thought he told everyone he was gonna leave! He always does!"

"You — You're absolutely right." Rick soothes me. "That's why I'm just a little confused right now."

"Well, you gotta go look for him." I whine.

"You're certain he should be back by now?" He makes sure. "Did he say that?"

"Yes!"

He takes a long exhale. "Okay. I'll... go talk to Shane, okay? He's on watch. Maybe he knows where he went but forgot to let us know."

I don't care about maybes. 

You don't find people with maybes, even if you're a Sherrif.

"Just find him." I bring myself to say to Rick. I try my best to glare at him, but I fail, 'cause there's all these stupid tears burning the corners of my eyes and this big lump in my throat. I just want my Dad. I just want him and he's not here, even though this time he wants to be. "Please."

I can't believe I'm askin' Rick for help. 

"I will." He promises, and I hope this one isn't empty like all his other ones. "Just wait here. I'll ask around."

"Okay." I grumble, watching him leave.

I go back to gazing out the window, watching the forest quiver and rustle in the hot night breeze.

I imagine Sophia out there, and in my mind, she's both curled up underneath a bush like a kitty cat and being ripped to shreds at the hands of a walker at the same time. I hold Matilda tighter, wishing I just knew which one it was, 'cause guessing is worse than knowing. I miss Sophia, too. If she was here, she'd braid my hair while we waited and tell me not to worry about my Dad. She'd be able to go through the Pokémon cards with us. She'd be safe and happy and there wouldn't be any guessing.

"What do you mean he's gone, too?" I hear Rick exasperate outside.

I perk up suddenly.

"He just left, man, like a couple hours ago." Andrea replies. "Said we was searching for Sophia."

Who? Who else left?

I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of them, but I can't really see much from here — only their shadows.

"Who left?" Lori asks.

"Well, first Daryl." Rick answers, stressed. "First Daryl and now Shane."

Shane.

All of a sudden, I get this feeling in my stomach that makes me wanna hurl.

As I gape, a single gunshot pierces the forest.

BANG.

A flock of tiny white birds shoot up from the trees.

They're gonna kill each other.

I know it.

This is it.

I feel sick. I feel totally, completely head-to-toe sick, and I'm not supposed to be walking right now but I'm already out of bed, anyway. The covers get caught on my foot and I almost trip, which hurts real bad — "Dang it," — and then I'm shoving past the bedroom door and then the main door and I really shouldn't be walking, 'cause this hurts even more, and just as I hit the tarmac, there are arms reaching out for me. They catch me like a bag of bricks. I try to stand again, 'cause I need to know what that was — I need to know who got shot, why, how, where — If it was my Dad.

If it was in the stomach, or the heart, or the leg or the foot or the head. Oh, please not the head.

"What the fuck was that?" T-Dog yells.

Anything but the head. You can stitch up anything but the head.

"Dad!" I shriek, as if begging him to come back; to appear on the horizon line, like the sun after a long, long night. "He's out there!"

"Shh. Shh, it's alright."

"No! Get offa me!" I shriek again, 'cause that's Rick — It's Rick who's holding me. "Get off!"

"Harley—"

It's Rick, not a Dad or a leader or a friend who's saved my life two times over — It's the man who murdered my Uncle and who's standing and doing nothing when my Dad needs his help. Rick, with that dumb badge that says King's County, but should really say Liar.

"You think it's them?" Lori worries, her face white as a sheet.

Glenn runs over. "What's going on?" 

"Who did that?"

"Was that a gunshot?"

"He's out there!" I cry loudly, choking on nothing as I struggle against Rick. "He's out there! He's out— He's out there!"

"I know. I know." He says, and then to someone else, "Go get your gun."

"Oh, God." Lori moans.

"He's out there!"

"I know. I know." Rick hushes. "I know. It's alright."

Jacqui rushes over and grabs me from the other side.

"Baby, you're gonna tear your stitches open." She warns. "You gotta be careful."

I think they've already torn open, 'cause it feels like there's red-hot lava oozing outta my skin, but I don't care. My Dad's out there. He's out there and he didn't tell nobody where he went and Shane's out there with him and they wanna kill each other. Jim's out there. They wanna kill him too and I think Jim wants to kill 'em back 'cause— 'cause that's what angry people wanna do. They wanna kill. It could've been him. It could've been a walker, 'cause there are walkers out there too, or the gun might've slipped, or they might've been fighting, or arguing, or, or, or— 

"Should we go look?" Andrea asks. "I mean, how do we—?"

"He's out there." I cry, breathing heavily through my clamped jaw, wrestling Rick, wrestling Jacqui, bleeding, wanting my Dad.

"It might not've been them." Lori nervously comments. "Might've been somebody else."

"No." Rick looks up at her, a dark look in his light eyes. "It was them."

That's all he needs to say to convince Lori.

"Then I'm with Andrea." She says. "Do we go look? We don't even know where they are."

"That's a whole lotta forest out there." T-Dog agrees.

I think I can hear Carol in the background, mumbling Sophia's name tearily as she paces back and forth.

"What the Hell are those fools even doin' out there in the first place?" Jacqui butts in. "And at night, no less. Are they stupid?"

"They gotta be." Says T-Dog.

Glenn comes running back with a rifle.

Rick stands.

I squeal like someone who's being branded with an iron poker as Glenn passes Rick a box of ammo and Jacqui wraps me in a hug, 'cause I know what's about to happen and what's already happened is nothing good. I cry as Rick throws a pistol to Andrea, and I cry as Lori bends down next to me, murmuring it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, and I cry some more as Jacqui tries getting a look at my stitches, which burn like scorpion stings.

"I'm gonna have to re-do these," She mumbles to herself.

On my other side, Lori brushes my hair back from my wet face. "Breathe, sweetie. Breathe."

What are they gonna find out there? My Dad, dead? My Dad, a walker? Are they gonna put him down like they put down Morales?

They're gonna kill each other.

I know it.

Either they've shot each other or they've shot Jim, but either way, someone's dying tonight.

Please be Jim, I selfishly pray. If it has to be somebody, please be Jim.

"You got a flashlight?" Rick checks.

"Yep." Glenn answers.

"Compass?"

"Yes."

"Fall in, then. Let's go." He says. "Andrea, guard this place 'till we get back."

"Wait—" Lori shakes her head, but there's no time.

Rick and Glenn hop over the guard rails.

They cross the field and the forest swallows them up.

My sobs fill the silence.

I just want my Dad.

The very last thought I have before I collapse with grief into Jacqui's arms is, He was gonna sing for me tonight.

My Dad, who I think might be dead, used to tell me, sometimes little girls don't get what they want.

He used to say it when I'd ask for an extra five minutes of TV before bed, 'cause I'd be cuddled into his side with my favorite stuffed animal, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if I watched just five more minutes, would it? And he said it all the time whenever I tried to pick up a snake on our walks in the woods behind our house, and also when I begged him with a laugh to stop tickling me. He used to say it all the time.

I think he'd say it now, too, 'cause all I want is for him to come back right this second, but I have to be patient.

If I was a little girl who got what she wanted, my Dad would emerge from the forest, and he'd do it right this very moment, and he would be a little banged up, 'cause I'll allow that, but he wouldn't be shot. No, he wouldn't be shot. Not in the foot, or the leg, or the head. Not anywhere. I would run up to him and I'd hug him as soon as I could reach, and I'd smell dirt and sweat and maybe some blood, but I'd also smell home. I'm sorry, chicken, he'd tell me, and I'd be a little confused on what exactly he's sorry for, but I'd forgive him anyway and he'd ask me, What've you been doing while I was gone, and I'd answer, I was brave and I waited and I wasn't worried one bit. If I got what I wanted, this would all be true.

But sometimes little girls don't get what they want.

I'm sitting under the RV awning, bleeding out in a blanket as I watch the horizon line for movement.

Jacqui says she needs to re-work my stiches, otherwise I'll be in an even worse way than I already am, but every time she gets close to me, I tell her to go away and she does. She and Lori have been spending all morning figuring out how to get through to me, and it's a perfect copy of that morning back at the quarry where I was rooted to that chair by the fire, refusing to talk because one of my family members was prolly dead.

I keep hearing that gunshot in my head. It's the sound of a door slamming shut, or a balloon popping.

A single BANG.

The sun rolls across the sky like a yellow marble, and the day slips away like loose sand in a timer.

I don't even know how long I've been sitting here by the time Jacqui approaches for the tenth time today.

"Go away." I croak before she has a chance to say anything.

"Damn, girl. Not even giving me a chance, huh?"

I frown, looking up from the trees.

"If you hear me out for just a minute," T-Dog says, "There's a bag of pretzels in it for you. The last bag of pretzels."

I squint at him.

"You ate all the pretzels?"

"I'm a stress eater." He simply says, before deciding it's safe to take a seat beside me at the little fold-out table.

I glance over at Jacqui and Lori, who are pretending not to watch.

"Remember what Dale said to me yesterday?" He asks.

"You're an idiot?" I deadpan.

"No— Well, yeah he did say that." He mutters. "But he also said, don't give up just because you can. You can't just sit here all day just because ya can. You need new stitches. You need food. Hell, you ain't even drank water today, I don't think. I know your Dad's been gone for a while, and ya sad an' stuff, but I'm telling you that man's a cockroach. It's only a matter of time before he comes crawling back, and when that happens, I'm not gonna have him breaking my nose when he finds out I let you waste away in that chair. No, sir."

I look up at him, confused at this strange tactic.

"Man, Dale too." He adds. "Guy's gonna be heartbroken if he finds out you didn't take his advice."

He gives me a very exaggerated look.

Whatever this tactic is, it makes me smile a little.

"Nobody ever takes Dale's advice." I dismiss.

"I did." He shrugs. "I thought this damn gash was gonna kill me, but there's a chance it won't. I ain't giving up."

"What happened, anyway?"

"Snagged it on a car door."

I pull a face.

"Hey, it ain't a knife in the guts, so I'm happy." He jokes. "But if I'm taking my meds, you gotta take yours, too. Let's start with that. You can have the pretzels after for dessert. How's that sound?"

I consider the offer. "Can I stay here while I take 'em?"

I can't leave this chair. I have to keep an eye on the horizon at all times, in case they come back.

"I'on care. Do whatever." He smiles. "We got a deal?"

"Sure."

When I glance over at Jacqui and Lori again, they look like they've just seen witchery.

T-Dog goes inside and comes back with Dale, who's holding a mug and two round pills.

"I heard someone's ready to take their meds?"

In the afternoon, I see someone coming — But it's not one of ours.

It's a woman.

She's riding a horse.

As soon as she spots us, she steers the horse in our direction, and even though Andrea points a rifle at her head, the woman ignores her. She draws near and pulls on the reigns, coming to a stop. The horse whinnies and clip-clops on the spot, a brown-gold thing with a shiny coat.

"Is there a Harley Dixon here?" She asks, looking us over.

Everybody goes still.

I don't know this woman. Nobody knows this woman.

She knows us, though.

Andrea cocks the rifle. "How do you—"

"Her Dad's been shot."

Lori gasps.

My Dad's— My Dad's been—? So, it's true? How does she know that?

I try to stand from the chair, suddenly immune to all the aches and pains in my body except this woman's words in my ear.

"Yeah?" Andrea challenges. "And how do you know that? Was it you who shot him?"

"No." She replies firmly. "It was a man."

"Is his name Shane?" Dale asks with distaste on his tongue.

"I don't know." She says. "But he's alive. I just got sent by a Rick Grimes and a Glenn Rhee to come and get his daughter. Is she here?"

I stumble forward, only getting a glimpse of her studded cowboy hat and purple shirt before being blocked by Dale, T-Dog, and Jacqui, who begin to argue with the woman, but I shout over them. I need to see my Dad. He's— He's alive, she said. My Dad is shot but alive. I'll let this woman whisk me away on a horse to a place I've never been if it means I get to see my Dad again. I'd go with her even if she didn't know Rick and Glenn's names.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Dale questions the horse-lady. "We're not just going to let you take a child on pure hearsay."

"Whether I take her or not doesn't change nothin'." She tells us. "Daryl Dixon will still be on his death bed."

It's a leap of faith, but we've gotten used to doing those.

Jacqui squeezes my shoulder, silently communicating with Dale before nodding down at me. "Go."

Go.

Where, exactly?

I got no idea.

The direction my Dad is in.

That's enough for me.

"Come on then, Harley Dixon." The woman beckons, reaching out a hand.

"Go," Dale agrees. "We'll catch up. Where is it you're taking her? When can we get there?"

Jacqui helps me up onto the horse.

"The Greene farm. Backtrack to Fairburn road from here; head two miles down. You'll see the mailbox."

He nods. "And just who are you?"

"I'm Maggie Greene."

"Thank you, Maggie." I tell her quietly, taking in her rust-colored hair and her green eyes as she smiles at me over her shoulder, thinkin' she must be an angel. I don't think angels get around on horses, 'cause they got wings for that, but this one does.

"We'll be waiting for you." She tells everyone.

The horse whickers and rears as she kicks her heels into its side, and then we're racing down the highway together.

The Greene farm looks like a watercolor painting.

It reveals itself like a pretty canvas as we trot through the thicket into a sprawling field.

"Pretty enough place to get stranded, am I right?" Maggie smiles, warm as the sun.

I see sheeps and cows slowly grazing in soft-looking pastures, and white clouds fan-brushed onto a baby-blue sky. I'm reminded of the wooden doll house I used to have, and how you could tell just by looking at it that someone has loved it very much for a very long time. We wind down a pebbled path lined by wildflowers. The beating of the horses's hooves sound like a steady heartbeat. I try my best to take a deep breath to match its pace, but my heart just won't slow down. I'm too nervous, too out of my depth, too scared. Shot but alive, is what I chant in my head.

The wrap-around deck becomes easier to see the closer we get.

There's one, two, three, four people standing and sitting around the stairs, watching us approach.

Two of their shirts are soaked in blood, like two red roses in the distance.

"Everything's gonna be okay." Maggie Greene tells me.

Shot but alive.

Shot but alive.

Shot but alive.

Author's Note.

Oh my gosh, this one was a ride and a half. I've been working on it on-and-off for like 2 weeks. How was that Ao3 crash, huh? I wasn't able to access my drafts for two whole days! Torture!!

I really, really hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a pretty pivotal one, and it finally kicks off the main part of season two - The Greene Farm! I LOVE the Greene farm. I would 100% live there.

Who do you guys think shot Daryl? Was it Shane, Jim, Otis, or someone else? Hmmmm

Thank you so much for reading, and thank you even more for your patience. <3

Sending lots of love :)

[lyssafreyguy]

oh yea my interview. uhhhhhh for Aldi. was alright. guy was nice. no bullshit long-winded open-ended PSAT type questions this time which was super nice. it was also a group interview with a tour of the store's layout and talks on what the employees do and when and i was the last one to be brought back so i had a good amount of time before i got to the actual interview part.

the application i filled out was for stocker/cashier which i didn't realize meant that i got to pick which one i wanted??? i told them stocker which is like. steel toe boots kinda job. come in early usually. unload trucks. control pallet jacks. stock shit from the back. typically get to go home earlier in the day. and it's part-time so i wouldn't be doing full 8 hour days to start but i can talk about moving on to full-time later.

kinda scary tho! i knew Aldi employees were Kinda Cracked but apparently gives them a daily rundown on how they're doing and where they need to work on to work better and that's WHY they're Kinda Cracked and that shit! kinda terrifies me! it kinda terrifies me that i could be a dispensable statistic! but it is what it is i guess.

anyways the interviewing process is multiple rounds so if they're interested in me i have to do a second interview with a higher up. if i get the job i gotta travel almost an hour out for training before being settled at whatever location i applied to which sucks ass. i've avoided having to travel for work so far and i wasn't expecting them to have me go out that far just to get started. oh well.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: JoelMiller x OC

Note: I changed my mind and decided to the join straight back in with Ada because the idea was fresh in my mind and I wanted to write it out before i forgot. I hope you enjoy this one is a little on the dark side. *Trigger warning: Torture..(Though it's nothing that you wouldn't see in the TLoU games/ TV Show)

Chapter Twenty Seven

Everything was a blur. Ada had been unconscious from the moment she’d been manhandled into the truck. Her wounds had stopped bleeding thankfully but every part of her body ached and stung. She was having difficulty breathing; it didn’t take a genius to work out that she’d probably cracked or broken a rib or two from Abby’s men. Or more accurately the little shit that had tried to threaten her with his pitiful behaviour. Michael had done more damage with his punch to her gut than anyone. He’d dragged her into this room without a word and then left her here.

Wherever here was. She was bound to a chair; wooden and sturdy. It was part of the set that apparently belonged to the larger table and stacked chairs in the corner of the room. On the opposite side was an old faded whiteboard with writing she could no longer make out. Though from first glance it looked to be bullet points listed. Attached to the walls on every side were large dusty bookcases. The books, now damaged or water stained and aged. The more she takes in her surroundings the more she realises that the room she’d been left in; resembled something of a meeting room. Like that of a council or committee. Perhaps she’s been brought to a courthouse or the town hall?

She didn’t have time to further ponder her makeshift prison when the door slammed open and the very last she ever wanted to see came stomping into the room.

“Hello Adaline. Long time no see.” greeted Abby, spitting her name like an insult. But Ada smiled sarcastically. “Abby.” she nodded. “I’d shake your hand to greet you properly but…” she gestured to her bound arms tied to the frame of the chair. “...I’m a little tied up at the moment.” The blonde scoffed a laugh at her attempt at humour. Staring her down with a blazing annoyance in her eyes. “Marlene was right; you are a sarcastic son-of-bitch.” She shifted her weight onto the back of the heels of her feet as she crossed her toned arms over her chest and glared down at the woman sitting in front of her. “Yes.” Ada said matter of factly. Before stopping herself short. “Oh sorry, did I interrupt? My apologies. You go ahead, say your little speech. Get it over with.”

She knew she was pushing Abby’s patience, from the look on her face alone she could tell she was pissing her off. But Ada found she no longer cared anymore. She was already beaten and bruised. What else could they do to her? She knew they wouldn’t kill her while she was their only source of finding out Joel’s whereabouts and even though she had no idea where he had gone specifically, she knew she could drag this out long enough to give him the time he needed to find Tommy, Ellie and Dina and formulate a plan to get her the hell of here and finally go home. She’d made the mental note to tell Joel that the minute they got back to Jackson there was no chance she’d let him ever leave town again. No patrols. Nothing. She’d be damned if she would lose him again.

Abby’s brows creased in further annoyance to Ada’s arrogance. And it was clear she’d pushed things too far when she felt her nose crack upon impact as the blonde’s fist connected in a harsh right hook. She flexed her jaw as her ears rang from the hit, her wounded lip bursting open again at the blow, bleeding along with her nose. She had no shame in spitting the blood onto the floor by Abby’s feet. “You don’t get to rush this, I will end this one way or another. But I’ll do it my own fucking way.” She stormed across taking hold of the older woman by the throat, squeezing just enough to make her wheeze. “There is something I don’t understand though. How the fuck did Joel survive?” She hissed. Blunt nails digging into flesh as she tightens her grip, Ada coughed as she struggles to breath. The blood running from her nose into her mouth making her feel nauseous, the copper taste bitter on her tongue as she curls her lip into a wicked smile. “I don’t know Abby, maybe you’re losing your touch.” She smirks cruelly, her words hoarse against her throat. The remark darkens the younger woman’s features as her nostrils flare in anger, she lashes out as her patience breaks and Abby wrenches her hand from around her throat and kicks out at the legs of the chair, sending it toppling over, taking Ada with it. Dropping to the floor with a dull thud, she grunts as her ribs scream in agony. Her vision is blurred and her head spinning as she's ruthlessly dragged back up again. The blonde leans down to stare her fiercely in the eyes, the hatred and anger still burning brightly. “I’ll give you a day. That’s all. One day to be smart and tell me where he is. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be more cooperative next time.” With that she turns to leave the room but pauses just before she reaches the door, her shoulders tense and stern as she clenches her fists by her sides. “I’m giving you a chance here Ada. Don’t waste it.” She says without turning to face her.

Ada doesn’t bother watching her leave. She can tell she’s already gone from the slamming of the door behind her.

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

She didn’t know how long she’d been left alone in that room but it had been long enough for the wounds to scab over. Her nose was throbbing and itchy and she hated not being able to scratch it. After Abby had left the room, Ada had noticed that the chair arm on the right side was cracked from when she’d hit the floor. The wood was splintering and she’d desperately been trying to work her arm free of its binds. Her work was interrupted however when she heard the handle turning and the door slowly opening. It was the young man from before. The one Mike had scolded for beating her. She’d later learned that his name was Jordan. She remembered Tommy telling her of someone who matched his description from the group that attacked Joel. Though she hadn’t known every Firefly from that day in Salt Lake City, he still carried with him the arrogance and conceitedness all the others did. And if it was possible; it made her hate him even more. He crept towards her quietly as if trying to keep himself hidden as he slipped into the room and it was at that moment Ada knew he had no orders to be in here with her. He was acting of his own accord, which meant no one would be around for a while to check on her.

She glared at him harshly as he walked over towards her. “Hello junior, little late to be out, isn't it? Surely it’s past your bedtime. What would Mike say if he saw you sneaking around?” She hissed but Jordan just scoffed cockily. “Hmm that’s funny.” he smiled but there was no humour in his words as he said them. Reaching into his pocket to pull out a switchblade and kneeled down, pointing the blade into the bottom of her chin. “How’d you find us?” Ada said nothing, her resolve never breaking. The young man sniffed forcefully as he dug the blade in deeper. “How many came with you? Is it just you?” again Ada said nothing. She wouldn’t give in to what he wanted. Instead she gave nothing. Said nothing. He unexpectedly pulled away in a rage at her stubbornness. Tearing away his switchblade as it cut through her flesh, leaving a deep gash across her chin. “Say something for fuck’s sake!” he whined pathetically. The older woman stared cold and hard at him. Her jaw clenched. “You can’t stop this. No matter what you do, you have to pay for what you bastards did to my family.” She spat venomously. He backed up riled by her words. Thrashing forward and wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing. “You think I’m gonna take threat’s from Joel’s bitch?!” He sneered.

Ada couldn’t breathe. She gagged and choked for air as Jordan squeezed that much tighter; as his anger grew, so too did his strength. Her feet scraped against the floor in a desperate attempt to find purchase. “Oh Mike told me everything…”He taunted. “You think you can marry that fucker and live happily ever after?! I don’t think so, it doesn't work that way!” The harder he squeezed the more she finds her vision starting to blacken, her head spins and her ears ring. She flails with her right arm against the broken chair, pulling at the wood in a feeble attempt to pull it free. It splinters the more she pulls, using the last ounce of strength she can muster. But still Jordan continues on with his strangling hold on her. “You never should’ve come here.” He hisses into her ear. She takes that moment to yank the shard of wood loose and wastes no time driving the pointed end into Jordan's neck. It finds its target as he falls to the floor, gurgling and choking on his own blood that pours from the wound in his severed jugular.

Ada coughs heavily against her burning throat and chest as the air heaves back into her lungs. She rubs at her neck with her free hand, soothing the now sore and bruising skin. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she twists to free her other arm from the chair. Finally free of her binds, she doesn’t even bother taking a second glance at Jordan’s body laying in a pool of his blood before she takes off down the corridor. Her legs are weak as she makes her way through. It’s dark and badly lit but from the style of the decor she can tell she was right with her assumptions. It's the town hall. Somewhat styled in grandeur but upon further glance it’s obvious it’s trying too hard to look more important than it is. No doubt the idea of a small town mayor to make his base of operations look more official and impressive. Nothing compared to the bigger cities, like Boston or Pittsburgh to name a few. Ada shakes the thoughts away as she focuses on finding a way out. The place is like a maze. All winding corridors and endless doors, with no way of knowing which leads where. She has to stop to catch her breath as her injuries wrack her body with waves of pain and aches unlike she’s ever had before. From potentially broken or cracked ribs to a broken nose and bruised windpipe, not to mention lack of sleep, water and food. She’s running on fumes as her energy drains, with all she has left.

Nothing prepares her for the strike on the back of her head as Ada loses consciousness.

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

It's the sound of dripping water that causes her to stir. And the second she opens her eyes the pain returned three fold. Her body is on fire, it burns from the agony that plagues her. She turns wincing at the shooting pain that strikes her again, as she tries to move her arms. But one doesn’t give. She glances up with bloodshot eyes to see her wrist in handcuffs, chained to a water pipe. She’d been moved to the basement. It’s dark and damp, and smells terrible. She can hear the scuttling of mice moving through the darkness. Instinctively twisting into herself at the thought of them crawling over her.

“Hello Ada.” The voice makes her jump as a bare bulb is flickered on, the dull hum of it buzzes in the silence. Mike peers down at her from the steps before making his way over towards her. “Now, what do you think you were doing huh?” he taunted with a faux friendly smile. Tutting as he waggles his finger at her. “We give you somewhere warm and dry to stay. ‘Real nice of us to do that, I think. And what do you do? Throw that kindness back in our faces. Kill young Jordan…now that’s not very nice behaviour of a guest is it?”

It’s a rhetorical question and so Ada gives no answer. She watches him as he paces back and forth, just as he did before. Eyeing up his prey once again, but this time she can feel her resolve slipping. Doesn’t know how much more pain she can endure.

To the end of the universe and back, endure and survive.

She almost cries as she hears Ellie’s voice echo in her mind. No, she can do this. She can keep going. She straightens herself as she swallows the pain and leans herself back against the wall. Sneering up at Mike with defiance in her hard stare. “Go to hell.” She manages to bite back.

He smirks as he comes to a halt. “So goddamn stubborn aren’t you? I gotta admit, that was something I always kind of respected about you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But no, I’m actually not mad about Jordan. That little fucker always pissed me off, so you did me a favour there.” Her eyes grew wide at his words, to care so little for his own people was something she hadn’t expected. But if he cared so little for them, she’d have no chance of trying to appeal to a sense of morality he clearly didn’t have. He stepped forward and kneeled down to face her and Ada didn’t feel the least bit at ease with the smile on his face. “You know, I could do you a favour. Move you outta this basement and back somewhere warm, maybe even somewhere with a bed, food and water. Your choice. All you have to do is tell me where Joel is…”

“I don’t know…”

“Yeah, yeah…I know. ‘You don’t know and even if you did, you wouldn’t tell me.’ right?” he chuckled scornfully, rising to his feet. He waited, but Ada said nothing. Huffing in frustration he abruptly turned back towards the doorway that led to the steps. “Okay fine. Have it your way then! Bring him down!” he yelled towards the floor above as WLF soldiers dragged down someone fighting harshly against binds tied behind their back. A sack thrown over their head. Ada’s heart stopped when the sack was harshly pulled away.

“Jesse?!” She croaked in a wave of panic. The men threw him at her feet as he grunted in pain as he hit the concrete floor. She tried to crawl towards him but her bound arm stopped just shy of a few itches. “Honey, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?” He smiled in spite of himself at her, “I wanted to help. You guys were gone a while and Maria was getting worried so I offered to come after you guys to make sure you were alright.” he said. Her heart broke at his kindness. She’d always liked Jesse, he was a good kid and she was grateful Ellie had such a great friend in him. She hated that he’d found himself here though. She didn’t want anymore people she cared about getting hurt. “Oh how touching. We found this one sneaking around the perimeter of the building. No doubt trying to come up with a way to rescue you. Ain’t that sweet. Pity it’s gonna get him killed.” Mike taunted with a twisted smirk. She could see the fear in his eyes but she was determined to get them both out of here alive. She just needed to think.

She pulled against the cuff on her wrist, twisting it as she leaned as far towards Jesse as she could. Her free arm outstretched and reaching for him, her fingertips only just brushing the shoulder of his jacket. “Don’t listen to him sweetheart, okay? He’s just trying to scare you.” She whispered. “Everything is going to be fine, alright? I promise.” She felt her lip trembling as Jesse nodded timidly. Mike broke the silence with his booming laugh, deep and cruel. “Oh Ada don’t lie to the poor boy!” Her entire body went cold as Mike took out his gun and shot Jesse point blank through the head. She didn’t hear herself scream but she felt it as she watched him go limp. His lifeless eyes still staring back at her. Anger boiled her blood. Her every fibre set ablaze with a deep roaring hatred for the man standing over her with a smoking gun still in his hand. “YOU…YOU MONSTER! HE WAS JUST A KID!”

The man just glared at her unbothered by the devastation he’d just caused, stepping one leg up onto a discarded box and leaning his arm on his raised knee as he gestured at her with the barrel of his gun. “You just don’t get it do you? I don’t give a fuck about any of these people Ada. Whether they live or die…but you do.”

He dropped his leg back down and walked towards her, unceremoniously kicking Jesse’s body to the side as he went. “So this is how this is going to go…You’re gonna tell me what I want to know. And the longer you don’t, the more I’ll keep killing the people you care about. I already started with this one. Next I think I’ll go for that brother in law of yours, been a while since I’ve seen little Tommy boy. And then eventually I’ll make my way over to that quaint little town you come from, and I’ll burn it to the ground.”

She sniffed against the tears that poured down her cheeks, her whole body aching in both pain and sadness. Smirking and satisfied with the hurt he had caused, Mike turned on his heel and made his way back towards the stairs. “Tick, tock Ada. Tick, tock. I’ll be back later and you’d better tell me what I wanna know.”

Throwing her head back against the wall, Ada let herself cry. She wrenched against the handcuff attached to the water pipe until she ran out of strength to pull anymore. It was no use. She was trapped with no way out and Jesse was dead.

And it was all her fault. 

[poplife4eva]

OMG THIS IS MY FIRST POST BUT I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A LONG TIME AND I WANTED SOME FEEDBACK BEFORE I MADE IT A FULL SERIES ON HERE. OK HERE WE GO YALL.

STAREING AT THE SUN. CHAPTER. 1

FINN

"Icarus. The boy that flew too close to the sun. Burned up his wings. Into little stubs of nothing,". Nana and her exaggerated stories ring in his head to this day.

Finn tries to look at his brother in the den of the truck but his views are cut off by tinted glass.

He's never this secretive about things. Hope’s never secretive about these things.

He never keeps this big of a project from him. They both dont.

The rubble from the ground hits the windshield swiftly. The dirt piling up on the small window means they weren't out of prison borders yet.

Across from the actual prison its two football fields wide of dusty perimeter of cacti and tumbleweeds. 200 yards of nothing but perimeter drones and guard angles. Makeing it harder to get in than out of the place.

He could still smell the dust in the air from the hatch that was cracked open. It bothered him that it was open but not as much as the fact that it didn't close in the first place.

It could give them away of not being a milk truck without the huge cloth covering them.

No matter how much he would try and pull on it, it wouldn't budge an inch makeung him almost fall onto a bunch of needles on a cart that was locked.

Finn stares at the syringe covered in specks of blood. Her blood. Blood that shouldn't have been taken out of her body to begin with. Theres a way they could have run the test without druging her and takeing her blood.

There was another way he tells himself tryihg to stay an optomist. The majority of the liquid they extracted moves back and forth to avoid clotting.

“Dna test, nothing getting stolen, no one probably wants this anyways,”One of the scientists says carrying the blood in his rough hands moving it back and forth, trying to stop it from clotting without the machine. The heated gloves he's wearing only help a tiny bit with warmth. It didnt matter if it cloted they would just draw more from her until they got what they wanted. He says one last thing before going back to his lab. “Try and relax,”.

The bench that he's sitting on doesn't feel as heavy anymore. How can he relax? Motion sickness does not come lightly. He feels sick. He almost opens up the hatch to puke before seeing the line of 6 security cars behind them. A bucket is gonna have to do.

Nana used to tell stories about angels like her. The ‘broken’ ones. A leyline between demons and angels. The flukes and freaks of nature. Demon kind but still confined to the britches of heaven by laws bent against them. She told stories about the court case when she was a teen. And how she was there seeing the tiny baby in a cradle.

"You shouldn't be this close,'' the guard says from beside Finn. He moved over making less space between them. "Even if you're the grim reaper you have no business being here with that disgrace,".

His formal title on these projects. Grim. Grim reaper. Whichever fits. It's more his dads title than Finns. He just takes it on sometimes due to the resemblance.

'It's all about perspective,' Finn's mother Mortala said to him even earlier on the phone. 'You either think she's Cinderella or Hitler'. It's funny that she's referring to hitler.

Finn doesn't know what to think about it.

He's seen blurry photos of sorts and other things like videos of them restraining her but not alot. Videos blurry, violent and brutal; they looked like they recorded them with a disposable camera. Most of her efforts where completely shut down by shock collars around her neck as she was dragged back to her cage.

One of them. The one that really made him nauseated was one where the person recording followed the guard's puting her back. Picking up her unconscious face from the floor by her hair repeating the words. "Best spring break ever" and "no way dads gonna top this,". Her face is used out of that one too.

Finn nods slowly. Trying to not acknowledge him too much. His only job was to bring her back to the main ring with Dominic, his brother. They're twins.

It's a rehabilitation project. Their home is one big sanctuary with a couple people living in the wings of the mansion at a time.

It's a slow process of putting her back with her actual people. Her kind. Nana also said that Finn's father, Steven, was to dumb to act on cases like that until Mortala came into his life. Even though she despises the woman she still tries to treat her with dignity.

Finn stared at his unkempt hair in the mirror beside him as he thought. He brushed his hair out with his fingers trying to fix it.

When they presented the judges there case they all looked at them like they were crazy. But they got her out of the prison. One way or another.

"Is she back there, well of course she's back there, is she awake?"Finn asked, trying to look past the guard's frame. The mirror caught the side of her eyes. At the silence he started to get anxiety. He fiddled with the knife in his pants pocket. Everytime his hand passed the cold medal blade his heart rate increased.

He couldn't see anything in the small sliver of a window but a flood light. The guard mutters that she was but she had heavy sedatives in her."Can I see her?". He gives him an all knowing look but doesn't give his insight because he's not paid enough.

“You're the executive and…. 16 now,”He says, patting his back reassuringly. He unlocks the door after a small while of stalling looking for the keys.

As his eyes adjusted to the light as a small voice spoke in the distance. "Am I going to another facility?". There wasn't much distance but the voice was so frail it felt far. As his eyes adjust he sees a girl with a chain collar around her neck that barely fits as it falls off onto her shoulder blades repeatedly. She looked like she weighed less than 80 pounds.

She stares at Finn from where she's chained. She looks. Perfect. Like she's not meant to be in chains she's bound to. Like a princess. A damsel in distress. “This doesn't look like the carrier cars though, and these chains are a little thrown together,”. She laughed akuardly trying to lif the thing on her neck aging.

Words fail him as he sees the girl in front of him. Brown hair going slightly over her honey golden eyes covering her expresions. "My family's c-company,"Are the only words that come out of Finn's mouth as he admires her. The light only makes her eyes more beautiful.

The girl only nodded trying to flex her wings out again. “What a nice nap,”She says faintly again reaching her hands out to stretch but she noticed how somethings off. The bands. They have her strapped in like a turkey.

She strains trying to look back at the skeletons mounted to her back. She struggles silently looking at the skeletons and trying to open them. Finn opens her mouth as she looks at her panic setting into the honey pools in her eyes. "I can help you,"Finn shouts at her, accidentally startling her more. He didn't mean to yell at her.

"I can help you get out of those things. They're just high resistance rubber bands. I can cut for you,"Finn offers, showing her a pocket knife.

What was he saying? Offering her help now of all times. She's still unstable and scared. She could kill him if she wanted to.

She sees her jump back at the sight. As she should. It's a normal reaction to seeing a weapon in the hands of a stranger.

"No it's fine I-you I mean please don't come near me,”She panics. As she panics looking around now straining her apendages even further, the bands snap on their own. The strain must have gotten to them. It doesn't take much when you have wigs made up of sharp bones.

She starts to pick up wind beneath her. He tries to say something but her words are muted by a sound of agony. The girl's tugged back down onto the mattress harshly by the cheap chain. As she lands back on the mattress feathers start to come out of the mattress. One even landing on her shoulder.

¨You're still not at 100%, let me help you, please,¨Finn pleads stepping closer. He tosses the knife on the ground. It's not like he needed it anyways.

It's only when Finn puts a knee on the bed that she moves. She moves away from him, wincing because of dragging her wings against the striped bed. ¨Please let me help you,¨.

Finn reaches a hand out to the chain to remove it. The only sound was quiet wind outside. Brushing up against the metal on the carrier. Her breathing was shallow and hiked as she looked at him. He moves it off with one hand to not intimidate her, it was harder but it would make her the most safe.

This was all for her.

She yawns quietly as small tears run down her face. Finn moves away as her head lands on his chest. He looks down at her for a moment to make sure it's real before he moves her head to the side making sure she doesn't get cold.

They gave he a heavy dose of sedatives. He didn't pay attention to what the doctor said about them wearing off.

Finn looks at her file on the wall again. Gwendolyn Ruth Fallan, age 16, prison name: Icurs.

He took the file out with him. She knew there was a reason for this. Gwen.

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

His brother comes back out from the den a small bit distraught. He tears off his gloves with his teeth not wanting to touch them again he spits them in the trash. He looks back up at him to then at the file.

“Were you just in there with her? Give it to me,”He asked looking at the vanilla file in his hand. “Have you looked at it yet?”. Finn says no, but he refrains the urge to actually fork over the file. It was his. He had it first, it's not a petty sibling game. The file was rightfully his. No matter how he put it though it was petty.

Finn sits down on the bench looking at his twin. He twirls his hair just to annoy him further. “Would you rather look at it with me? I'm not handing over confidential information so easily,”.

OMG I DIDNT THNK IT WOULD BE THIS LONG BUT WHOEVER READS THIS I HOPE YOU ENJOY SO I CAN CONTINUE THE SERIES. NEW CHAPTER COMEING ON WEDNESDAY.

[jojo0039]

*Pogue for Life* The Diary Part 1

Buzz follows behind John as they walk through the impound lot.

They are looking for the Twinkie.

"Are you sure it's at this one?" John asks his oldest friend.

"That's what the report said, John. It should be around here somewhere." Buzz tells him sounding annoyed.

"What's got you so huffy?" John asks.

"Well, let's see, you called me at six in the morning to come to help you find a copy of this diary. I've been up all night looking for my daughter, your Goddaughter by the way, in case you forgot. So yea, I'm a little cranky." Buzz answers him sarcastically.

"John B told me, she's fine. She's with the rest of their friends now. They should be back soon. No, I haven’t forgotten. I don't remember you being this bitchy." John comments.

"I don't remember you being this stupid and pushy. You just got back. You just got your son back. Stop and think for a minute about the important things." Buzz lectures him.

"I am thinking about the important things! I am doing all of this for my son. So he doesn't have to say his father is a complete failure."

John quickly turns away from his friend.

"Ah, there it is."

John changes the subject and walks over to where the Twinkie is sitting.

It looks busted up with a cracked windshield and dents all over the body.

"Oh no, shit! The window!"

John reaches into the window and opens the back door.

Water pours out from the van.

"There it is."

Buzz reaches in and grabs what is left of the diary.

It has turned to mush from all of the water damage.

"Shit!" John shouts out.

"What now?" Buzz asks.

"Where did this copy come from?" John asks.

"I think there was an article in the paper about the kids' history teacher finding the original copy. We can start there." Buzz states.

"Good idea. Let's head back and get my boy on board. He's more familiar with the teacher than we are." John states as he walks back towards Buzz's truck.  

                                                       ***********************

Jo watches from the porch as John B looks everywhere for his father.

"I'm telling you guys, he was here." John B argues.

"John B, I-"

"No, I'm telling you, Sarah, he was here. I swear." John B quickly says.

"Okay." Sarah says sounding unconvinced.

"I'm not crazy. Look, there's the boat right there. Okay?"

John B points towards the boat that is docked.

"Nobody is calling you crazy, B. But it's been a really stressful few days." Jo mumbles.

"No, you saw the couch in there, it was slept in! You guys believe me don't you?" John B pleads.

Sarah turns to Jo pleading with her eyes for help.

"I mean-" Sarah tries.

"Hell, I wouldn't believe him either."

Jo hears a familiar voice and they turn to see Big John and her dad walking towards them.

"Dad? Uncle John?" Jo's jaw drops.

She spares a look at John B who gives her an 'I told you so' look.

Jo quickly rushes over to her dad.

"Oh, my baby girl." Buzz wraps her tightly in his arms.

"I missed you so much, Daddy." she says as she has tears in her eyes.

"I searched everywhere for you, every day."

She looks to see Sarah quickly run to hug Big John.

"Welcome to the family Sarah. Or should I say, Mrs. Routledge?"

Big John comments with a wink to John B.

"Holy shit, you told your dad?" Jo whispers to John B.

"Yea, I did." he whispers back.

"Where the hell did you go?" John B questions his dad.

Big John sighs.

"Now is the time for celebration, come here and give your uncle and Godfather a big hug." Big John says to Jo who quickly listens and him tightly.

"I can't believe you're really here." Jo whispers to him.

"Oh, it's gonna take more than what happened to get rid of me." Big John jokes.

"What is this around your neck?" Buzz asks pointing to the necklace with her ring on it.

"Umm." she freezes.

"It's a long story, Dad. I'll fill you in later." Jo tells him.

Sarah gives her a small smile for encouragement.

John B finally notices the necklace too.

"What is that? What aren't you telling us?" John B asks.

"Okay, okay."

She holds up the necklace and shows them the ring.

"Where the hell did you get that ring from?" Buzz demands to know.

"Did you get that from Rafe?" John B shouts.

Sarah smacks John B on the arm as he slams his hand over his mouth.

"Rafe? Rafe Cameron?" Buzz demands to know.

"While everyone else was stuck on an island, I was taken to Guadeloupe with Rafe. And his family. Including Ward." she tells them.

"What?!"

"Ward is alive?!"

Both the men shout at the kids.

"Look, we were just as surprised. But he's not doing good. He had a really bad head injury and was in a coma the past month." she informs everybody.

"What the hell were you doing with Rafe Cameron?" Buzz demands to know.

"I'm not getting into this with you right now, Dad!" Jo tries to storm away, and her dad follows her.

"You best bet your ass we are! I have been worried sick for a month worried about you!" Buzz grabs her arm to stop her.

"I'm sorry, Dad I really am. I didn't go with him intentionally." Jo tells him.

"So you're saying that he kidnapped you?" Buzz questions.

"Technically, yes." she answers.

Buzz goes to say something, but she cuts him off.

"Before you go on a killing spree, it doesn't change how I feel about him, whatever that may be." Jo tells him.

Buzz sighs in frustration.

"That's called Stockholm Syndrome, Joanna!" he yells at her.

"Whatever, I'm done with this conversation. I'm going to Mom's trailer to get changed. Don't follow me."

Jo manages to storm past her dad and walk away.

Jo walks past Sarah and John B as she heads towards her mom's trailer.

                                                   ********************************

Jo is sitting in her old room when Sarah walks in softly.

"How are you doing?" Sarah asks.

She sits down on the bed beside Jo.

"I understand why he is upset. It's just that, I've been doing this whole thing without him knowing that I just get so defensive when he tries to parent me." Jo admits.

"I know, it seems to be forever since we've been kids and had parents that actually wanted to parent us." Sarah comments.

"It just sucks dude. I'm starting to not remember what it was like." Jo mumbles softly.

"What was what like?" Sarah asks.

"Just being a kid and not having to worry about anything, but where the party is gonna be, or what boy we were crushing on that week."

Jo laughs as she bumps shoulders with Sarah.

"Wow, that does seem like forever ago." Sarah agrees.

"What are you doing back here? I thought you would be with John B?" Jo asks.

"He went with his dad and your dad somewhere, I have no idea where." Sarah tells her.

Jo rolls her eyes.

"Of course. He never even thinks to tell me anything, but it's a big deal when I do it." Jo scoffs.

"Get a shower and get changed, you're coming with me to Tannyhill to get some stuff. I don't wanna go alone." Sarah tells her.

Jo laughs and stands up.

"Alright, I'm going."

Jo grabs a towel and walks to the bathroom to shower.

                                            ****************************

Buzz is sitting outside Mr. Sunn's house waiting for John and John B to show up in the van.

They finally pull up and he gets out of his truck and walks over to them.

He hears them arguing.

"We're not keeping anything from Sarah, or Jo for that matter." John B argues with his dad.

"Son, you lost the gold to Sarah's father and the cross to her brother, which happens to be Joanna's fiancé. Do you see the complications here?" John tries to reason.

"It's not even like that. Uncle Buzz, please you have to believe that Jo is still a full Pogue. She was just trying to save us. And Sarah isn't anything like her father or her brother. Both of them have tried to kill her." John B tries to explain.

"Look, kid I don't even like that you're involved in this. That's your old man's decision. But I am not involving Joanna in this. This is way too dangerous." Buzz tells him.

"No offense, but we have all been involved in dangerous shit this past year. She deserves to be a part of this. Hell, they both do." John B argues.

"It's just better for everyone to keep intel on a need-to-know basis. Buzz and I both learned that the hard way. It's just the three of us. Okay?"

Big John gives him a firm look.

"Okay, whatever." John B finally relents.

"Come on. Let's go."

Big John and Buzz walk over to the front window and door.

They peek inside and see that it's dark.

"Look at that. Nobody is home. We should get out of here." John B retorts.

"Hey, come on, we're here already. Let's just take a look and have some little fun." Big John states.

Buzz gives him a look.

"This is why I didn't want to involve the kids. Sunn is in hiding and you're bringing your son to case out the place." Buzz lectures.

"I gotta teach my kid everything we know."

Big John grabs a small tool from his pocket and goes to unlock the door.

"So since no one is here, I don't think he would mind if we looked around a little bit." Buzz looks around as John B looks unamused.

"Just a little breaking and entering with my pops. Just add it to the list of felonies." John B retorts.

"You're not the one running for mayor while breaking and entering." Buzz mumbles as he follows behind inside.

"What does the original diary look like?" Big John asks.

"Leather-bound about yay big."

John B holds up his fingers to show size.

"Alright, let's split up and see if we can find it." Buzz suggests.

He starts looking through a drawer.

He doesn't find anything, so he moves on to a row of shelves.

They hear John B let out a cry of pain.

"John B?"

A man comes out and hits Big John over the head.

Buzz goes to grab his gun, but the man swings at him knocking the gun to the ground.

Another man tosses John B out onto the ground.

One of the men has his gun pointed at them.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

The man holds up the leather-bound diary.

"You son of a bitch!" Big John insults in pain.

"You're too late."

The men run out the door.

"Come on, we gotta go after them." Big John stands up.

"John B are you okay? They hit you pretty hard." Buzz says checking his head.

"I'm fine."

Mr. Sunn comes crawling out of the bathroom.

"Come on!" Big John  shouts.

"You go. I'm gonna check on your teacher." Buzz says.

John B nods and runs out the door after his dad.

Buzz helps Mr. Sunn up onto the chair.

"Are you feeling dizzy or light-headed or anything?" Buzz asks.

"No, I'm okay." he says.

Buzz grabs a first aid kit to clean him up.

"I came out of hiding to meet with those two. They said they were with the historical society. I guess my professional vanity got the best of me." Sunn laughs.

"I understand that better than you think." Buzz says to him.

"That's right, you're running for mayor. I heard about that. I think you would make a great mayor." Sunn tells him.

"Thank you. I appreciate that." Buzz answers as he continues to bandage him up.

"But you can't do that and treasure hunt with Big John. You know that right?" Sunn asks.

Buzz finishes bandaging him up.

"Yea, I'm aware." Buzz says.

He hears his phone ringing and sees that it's John B calling.

He walks out of the house to head back to his truck.

"Hello?" he says.

"It's me. Something happened. I need your help."

He heard Big John speak into the phone.

                                            *******************************

Jo gets out of the shower and gets dressed.

She walks out to the living room where Sarah is waiting for her.

She starts searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" Sarah asks.

"My mom's car keys. She doesn't need them anymore. So I may as well as take them." she says.

She finally finds them.

"Gotcha! Let's go." Jo says.

They head out to the car and she pulls out of the driveway.

She starts driving towards JJ's house.

"Before we go to your house, I just need to make a small stop first." Jo says as she pulls up to JJ's house.  

They see an eviction notice taped to the door.

Jo looks at Sarah.

"You go. I'll wait right here." Sarah tells her.

Jo nods and gets out of the car.

She walks around to the back of the house and sees JJ working on his bike.

"Hey, Jay." Jo hesitantly greets.

He looks up from his bike.

"What are you doing here Jo?" he asks her not looking up from his bike.

"I wanted to be the first one to tell you this, John B found Big John." she tells him.

JJ finally looks up at her with a surprised look.

He starts to smile.

"Seriously?" he asks as he stands up.

She smiles back.

"Yea, he's alive and at the Chateau. We saw him this morning with my dad." Jo informs him.

"Your dad?" he asks confused.

Jo rolls her eyes clearly irritated.

"Yea, that's a long story." she comments.

"I guess he thinks that we're close to the same treasure that Singh was trying to get me and Kie to help him find." she tells him.

"Hmmm."

He bends back down to finish working on his bike.

"I also just wanted to come check on you, to make sure you're okay." Jo tells him.

He throws the rag down on the work table.

"You don't have to worry about me." he tells her.

"Of course, I worry. I care about you. I don't want you to be here alone." she tells him.

She steps closer to him.

"Things are weird now between us." JJ tells her.

She steps closer and grabs his hands.

"I dont want things to be weird between us." she whispers to him.

She sees his eyes grow heavy and he starts to lean down.

She feels his lips touch hers softly.

"We can't do this."

He pulls away from her.

"Jay-"

He cuts her off.

"No, because all I wanna do is grab you and hold you and kiss you and never let go. But every time I see your face all I see is you with Rafe. And I can't take it! I mean look at me! What could I possibly offer you that he can't? This shit hole?"

Jo feels tears in her eyes.

"I'm getting kicked out in three weeks anyway. Why would you care? I'm just some loser-"

Jo cuts him off and storms up to him.

"I do care! I care so much!" she argues.

"No, you don't!" he argues back.

"Yes I do!" she tells him.

"You got a dad who lives on Figure Eight, and you're wearing another man's ring around your neck. That's your future right there. Not with me." he argues with her.

"You know what you are now? A Kook. You're a Kook, Joanna. You're no longer one of us."

He watches her face as he instantly regrets the words he said to her.

She sniffles and wipes the tears from her face.

"Have it your way. I'm gone." she hisses out.

She turns away and walks back to her car where Sarah is waiting for her.

[stormcrow513]

Ya know I'm getting really tired of the uuuww 'their mean cause someone hurt them, the power of your kindness can save them'

Not because it isn't true

Not because people don't deserve redemption

Not because I think it's a bad story to tell

But because it is not being balanced with other true messages

Some people are just bad

For these purposes it doesn't matter why they are cruel,

What matters is they are cruel and will be cruel again

Give my second sister as example, when we were kids she is 5 years older then me

She broke my arm and covered up that she did it at I was 3 so she was 8

I don't know how old either of us were when she began sexual abusing me, though I vividly remember the arm breaking at 3, like I just recently filled in some dots for ma,

She beat me,

Almost killed me a couple times,

It took me years, around now and I'm thirty-one, for me to stop trying to treat her with kindness because that was my default once, kindness

Even now my new default is caution not cruelty

She didn't stop hitting me hard with all her strength, to me shoulders arms breasts, back, stomach, ribs,

Not until I went through one last growth spurt at the beginning of my twenties, and became a mini tank, like I'd always been strong for my side but now I'd grown into it,

Anyway we were walking through the clothes aisle at the intersection she turned and punched my shoulder as hard as she could, wouldn't be surprised if she cracked the bone,

I turned and punched with 20 years pent up pain I was done in her bicep I felt my knuckle hit bone her eyes lit up with tears I probably cracked bone

She never has hit me hard ever again

She's got a small child now and she's never stopped being verbal and physically abusive, she came at me once when I told she to give me back my horse tack (she'd just caused my horse death,) called her a tief, and she threw his boots at me when I was filling a glass of water it was on the counter the glasses, the boot hit it and almost dropped it on my bare feet, also she shoved at me in said kitchen with water sloped on the floor,

Last year she got one of her dogs hurt, see she lets em ride it her truck but

A, does not seat belt them in, this is a safety Hazzard to the dogs herself and her child,

Has never trained em to get out safely, she opens the door they spill out,

I've warned and warned her one day one dog was gonna land on the other, 'they could end up with a broken leg or legs,

Last year it did, big dog jumped down right on to really fucking small dog,

Then instead of keeping small dog cordoned off into kitchen to keep leg safe from other dogs and make sure the little dog doesn't jump up, as she's allowed on furniture,

Little dog jumps up onto bed starts squealing in pain, take to vet, leg ended up so fucked that they had to cut it off,

Sidenote she kicks her dogs when they piss her off which just walking into her way can do,

I bet she's abusing her kid, heard her call her daughter racist names cause the kids dad has a bit of native blood

Here's the thing that I wish I saw growing up at least a little

Some people are just bad,

And they won't ever ever change no matter what,

You don't have to try and save every one,

Being kind to people also means being kind to yourself and sometimes the kindest thing to do for you is to leave that person to their shit,

as much as you can anyway ,like ma and I live with my abusive sperm donor as long as he lives she could come over here to the house, I can't tell her to stay away from me or I'll file a restraining order,

*high Disclaimer*

[eclipsethemagic]

Ch. 3 Hello Stranger

Summary: Jungkook goes to his dad for the weekend and we get to know more about y/n.

Paring: Jimin xf!female reader ( African American)

Genre: smut, fluff, angst

Warning: none

[m.list ] prev next

Jungkook mentally groaned he hated Saturdays. Saturdays were supposed to be his relaxation day, the day he would beat Seokjin in overwatch.

God didn't work in his favor on this Saturday.

"Kook! You're dad outside!" His mother yells from the living room, she had a glass of wine on the coffee table, her feet propped up on the couch, Mrs. Kim's black hair was now out lying on her shoulders.  Jungkook was the only one at home besides Taehyung and Jimin who was in their room doing god knows what.

Jungkook walks downstairs, his bag in his hand, and his phone in his sweatpants. Jungkook pouts at his mother who looked so happy on the couch he could be playing his game on.

"Come on now don't give me those eyes, you'll be there for two days kook." His mother sighs when she looks at her baby boy, Jungkook's lips puff out more making her roll her eyes. His dad blows the horn, and Mrs. Kim stands up from the couch and pulls Jungkook in a hug, she kisses his forehead and opens the door for him. Jungkook walks out and goes down the steps to his dad's black truck. He opens the door gets in and shuts it back waving to his mother when she shuts the door.

Mr. Jeon wasn't an ugly guy, he was only around 45 with black hair that had a little bit of gray, his lips were thin and pink, and had the biggest doe eyes. Jungkook was lucky he got most of his dad's looks and his mother's personality.

"How's school?" His father's voice was deep and rich, living in America for two years his dad's accent was stronger than ever. Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns his head at his father, a smile forms on his lips before answering.

"Good, I got an A-plus on my math test last week." Jungkook was excited to tell his dad, Mr. Jeon was never the type of man to ask about Jungkook's day, he was all about work and showing how much you can do with your brain.

Jungkook wasn't like that.

That pissed off Mr. Jeon.

"Wish Taehyung would have come." His dad says when they are at a red light.

Ah yes, the golden child, Jungkook didn't understand why his dad would choose Taehyung over him, but then again he knew.

Taehyung got good grades in school, Taehyung was popular, Taehyung pleased his parents and well Jungkook did none of those things.

He, Jeon Jungkook was tired of pleasing people, he was tired of trying to be manly, Jungkook wanted to be him.

Jungkook didn't know how bad that would get him.

"I guess she's pretty," Namjoon says over the phone when he looks at the picture Jimin sent him.

"You guess? bitch what do you mean by that?" Jimin says as he sits up on his bed, Taehyung wasn't in the room so Jimin thought it was a perfect time to talk about his little crush for the new girl. Namjoon graduated school this year with Hoseok leaving Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook last. Which will be next year for them, so Namjoon knew a lot of people.

He just didn't know y/n

"You heard what I said, she's pretty I guess. She ain't my type park." Which was true. Namjoon dated the thick Asian girls that he could grab ass on, they had to have hips and with braces, know don't get Jimin wrong he loved Asian girls but not like that.

Y/n wasn't Asian nor was she skinny but she was thick, ass and all.

I mean..like Jimin could smack her ass and that shit would jiggle.

"Still, I bet you hoseok would rate her a 10 and that little shit likes men." Jimin wouldn't be lying though. out of all the guys, hoseok was the second gay one, been one since birth, as their mother would say. Namjoon lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones. "Yeah, you wouldn't be lying."

"Hey, Namjoon?" Jimin says after listening to Namjoon ramble about books he got from the bookstore. Namjoon lets out a hum and moves around his bed trying to get his back to crack.

"How is your dad like." the line was quiet for a second, "Hyung you don't have to tell me," Jimin mumbles starting to feel bad. His mom never talked about Namjoon's dad nor did Namjoon but he does go every weekend just like how he, Taehyung, and Jungkook used to do until they started taking turns.

"He's never really here, so whenever it is his weekend I get the house to myself. Don't get me wrong my dad isn't a bad guy he just doesn't have himself together yet. I hope one day he does and starts to act like a father I never really had." Namjoon never really showed his emotions, that was one of the things he did lack. Their mom always said that she thought Namjoon was emotionless when she first met him, his mom was one of the reasons why N amjoon stayed to himself and why he was afraid of women for a long time.

"Wish my dad was like that," Jimin confesses making Namjoon shift a laugh, "No you don't man, he's more of a stranger than a father."

[xx-kenz-xx]

LETTERS I'LL NEVER SEND #1 : To my first love.

Remember that time we sat on the hills behind my neighborhood and watched the sun set? How the walk back was only a couple of blocks, but it was cold and you wrapped your own sweater around me?

Yea… me either…

Remember the night we sat in your truck, in an empty parking lot, you put on some music and we talked about our future and what that might look like? Or how I started crying thinking that I could have such a future? You pulled me in and told me it would happen, that I deserved it and that you needed to get me home before curfew so my dad wouldn't hate you?

Yea… me either…

Remember the night of our anniversary, you came to my house all dressed up? You showed up at my door with the most beautiful flowers and said you had so many things planned, but that they were all a suprise. You opened my door for me, we went to dinner, and when the sun went down you pulled out some blankets so we could lay on the ground and look at the stars. It was cold then too, but we kept warm by joking about how your mom would kill you if she knew you got her blankets dirty.

Yea… me either…

Remember how you lost your favorite knife in a movie theater? It slipped out of your pocket while we were movie hopping, and was gone forever. I spent months saving up to get you a new one, and you were so happy when you opened it. Little do you know, my heart was also in that box. At the time, I'd never been happier, and I didn't think life could feel this way for me, but you made it happen, and I was so grateful.

Yea… me either…

Remember how we went to your house for the first time, and you offered me a shot of vodka? I pulled myself up onto your counter, and when you counted down from three we did it together. The look in your eyes made me laugh when you saw how quickly I drank it, and I think that's when you fell in love.

Yea… me either…

Remember dancing in the kitchen when nobody else was home? We would always find a new recipe to make and turn on some music. You taught me how to cook, and how to dance. You'd sing to me while we danced, my face would turn red and I'd hide in your chest and sway.

Yea… me either…

Remember when we practically lived together? Your dad would yell at us for being too loud, but you couldn't help but keep cracking jokes just to hear me laugh, he'd pound on the wall and we'd stifle our laughs, but it was hard. Life was amazing.

Yea… me either…

Remember when you left for Basic training? And we both cried? I told you I'd wait for you, and I wrote you every day. I went to visit your mom often, to help her with chores and to help her stay happy. We talked about a lot, and she'd dress me up and take photos of me to send to you. I really loved your mom.

Yea… me either…

Remember when you got home… and you started drinking more? Suddenly you cared all too much about what your friends thought, and I was just there for the ride. Remember how they all looked at me like there was something I didn't know, some had deviousness behind their eyes while others had genuine concern. I didn't know what was going on, but I felt in my soul that something wasn't right.

I remember it all too well…

Remember the night you came to my house, but wouldn't come inside. It was freezing and dark but you had to tell me something important. You told me that you didn't love me anymore, and we both cried. We both knew it was a lie and that there was more to it. You held onto me with more urgency that night, you kissed me more passionately, and I finally got you to admit that you had cheated on me. You were drunk, I forgave you. After a few weeks we got back together, and I still loved you so much, I was hurt but willing to give you another chance, you were everything to me.

I remember it all too well…

Remember we did good for a bit, and then you suddenly began to change. Drinking was more your thing than loving now. You'd go to parties and leave me behind. I knew you were still cheating, and you were even open about it, but I figured it would pass and we could work through it so I continued to give you chances. You became cold to me, but not really. It was very forced, and I could tell that you didn't mean the things you said, but you were scared. To this day, I don't know why. You didn't want to hurt me, but in your mind, you had to.

I remember it all too well…

Remember when you finally put hands on me… Once again there was alcohol involved and I knew it wasn't like you, but I knew nothing would be the same after this. I remember feeling more alone than I ever had, but I had lost you, and you were all I had. I felt betrayed and scared. All of the good memories outnumber the bad ones, but the bad feelings outweighed the good eventually.

I remember it all too well…

Remember the night before I left for basic training? I sent you a message I hoped would make you think. I called you an alcoholic, and I wasn't wrong. I told you that you were unlovable, because I truly believe you thought that you were, I wanted you to hurt in the same way you hurt me, and the moment I hit send, I figured that you wouldn't care. I thought you'd blow it off if you really didn't love me. Those words broke your heart. You never got over it, and from the things you'd message me later on I knew you heard those words in your head every day. I felt really bad for awhile, I still loved you so much, but I was hoping I would be your wakeup call so that you could be happy one day.

I remember it all too well…

It's been 8 years now, and you still check in on me. Don't think that I don't notice. All I've ever done is notice. I know you regret deeply the choices you made that led to this loss. I know you've been with other women and it breaks you down because none of them loved the way I did. I know you understand the mistake you made, in losing someone who really would've done anything for you. After all, 7 years is all it takes to be a new person. The person I am now, you've never touched. The person I am now, is even better than the person I was then. You want to know what it's like to know me again, and to know the love you never received anywhere else. If you could take it all back in an instant I know you would, but there are still things about you, that you haven't changed. You still drink, you still lie, and you still hate yourself, even though you shouldn't.

If you do remember anything, remember this.

Everything around you, is up to you. Don't let the people around you decide who you are. If you're around people doing bad things, that doesn't make you a bad person, but if you do those same things in hopes that they'll accept you, it doesn't make you a good person. The world is your oyster, nothing is permanent, even the bad things. You are in control of where your life goes, and who you keep in it, and apologizing doesn't make you weak. You are not your father, but only you can keep yourself from turning into him. It's not too late. I'm sorry I hurt you. I hope you're able to move on, and achieve everything you've ever wanted.

[verifiablebot]

good friends to have a beer with