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berryunho · 1 year

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i’m sorry but WHAT.IS.THIS FICCCCC AAAAHHHHH. everything about it is so ugh and agh and oooohhh and huh. pls lauren, author-nim i’m ITCHING IN MY SLEEP to read the next chapter. the gore, the eerie atmosphere, the love quarrels, the death and manipulation. I FUCKING LIVEEEEE. ngl it took me like 2-3 nights to read all of this and now my sleep schedule is ✨nonexistent✨ but like it’s so worth it. the way i was glaring throughout most of it i— it took me a couple of pauses to not dash my precious communication device across my room but now i’m just intoxicated. i love the way i couldn’t totally guess what was going on cuz mc wouldn’t read the part of the ANSWER that has to do with her and nobody told her until woo gave her the gist of it. i just want mc to use her favouritism to at least taunt hwa a little like “i know your mans wants me over your lame ass” ya know? anyways rip Haseul she a real one but Mingi!!! wait wait real it back cuz the Choosing ceremony oh lawdddd the way i wanted to reach across the table and stick a fork in HJ’s neck!! rah and when they drugged the fuck outta her and— look. you’re an amazing writer even though mc made me want to question how slow ppl can be cuz hellooooo are we colourblind?? don’t you see these fucking flaring red flags??? now mingi??? after Haseul’s incident… he is dead to me! period point blank! i wanted mc to just turn to him and spit those words but ofc that wouldn’t happen in this CIRCUS. now San… i’m biased cuz he my hubby but i really don’t have any objections. again cuz i’m San biased. i love the level of crazy, ambitious, manipulative and also sorta deranged his character has like i personally wouldn’t mind cuz low-key that’s rizz to me. jongho. he… has composureeee. i just want to see him snap fr can’t lie. not a tiny bit but pure “all i see is red” type of shit, you get me? hwa can die in a ditch atp i don’t really care. and i just want to snuff joongie in his sleep. now in terms of relationships, matz… yeah respectfully i’m exiting left cuz man i just can’t. partially cuz i can’t see joongie in any other light but cute. however coma, with the way you’re describing his sizzling touch and haunting smiles i think that my skin could crawl inside out in itself. uh huh pennywise could neverrrr. mc and mingi, idk wagwan but all i can say is that mingi is beyond not okay atp like… bipolar doesn’t even cover it a third of it pls. i honestly cannot deal with the barn scene cuz i would have walked tf out. it’s literally joongie’s personality ctl + c, ctl + v but with emotions and whatever soundness there is left. now… i can see mingi dying. oops sorry not sorry cuz have you seen the way man is moving. in my mind i see it as: the more you weaver in my eyes (in terms of keeping yo shit in check), the closer to death you are. so don’t come rock my shit plssss ty. mc and san… sigh… like somebody said ain’t no way this relationship is going anywhere and i agree cuz… side eye. woo snapping at mc had my somewhat excited bones jiggling so pls author-nim i need woo to break composure again pls. now yeo and yuyu… i want them to come and catch me off guard pls. this is toxic but i want issues left and right. NO SLEEP, JUST STRESS. yessir. in terms of the sexual scenes, i’m going to go back to hwa and mc getting off on hatred towards each other but author-nim~ i want hwa to have drastic mood swings while railing her into Universe One pls😭 and i want joongie to catch them or at least watch part of it. also, san needs to learn how to pull out cuz oral ain’t gonna cut it for very long. tokens of appreciation, joongie being vulnerable at times, hwa’s calling mc ‘sweetie’ all the time, mingi showing emotion once he crosses a line with mc, san being super protective and sweet of mc, woo’s bright self cuz i can actually hear him being like that. yeo henchman purrr and jongho buff self yasss. also yuyu just being there hehe. OTHER THAN my murderous thoughts towards most of these fictional personas, i’m STOCKED to read chpt 30!!! and ily unconditionally for making this masterpiece 😘😘😘😘😘

THIS ASK ADLSFKASDLFKJSFKJFS THIS IS SO CRAZY !!!! THANK YOUUUUU !!!! KLJFD;KASJDF i litcherally dont even know what to say aside from thank you sm for reading and sharing your thoughts lkajflkajsdfk this is so insightful to me as a writer like knowing what sticks out to you is so interesting and really helps me figure out what im good at accentuating and LKAJSDFLKASDJF yes just thank you very much ily mwah

#bella-hi #answered #the answer spoilers #feedback

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 5 years

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Blackout | Random One-Shot Series, #1

Billy Russo x Female Reader

I’ve been through a major blackout this week, it got me thinking and this just happened. There’s another Blackout scenario I’m finishing, I’ll try to post it next week. For those lovely people who requested Matt Murdock stories, I’m still on them. Sorry for this delay in delivery, I blame Billy Russo.

Warnings: S.M.U.T.

Synopsis: you and Billy are best buddies, always have been. And it seems like nothing could change that. Well, except for a blackout, maybe.

“…you know, maybe I should just give up on men already. Start playing for the other team.”

Billy chuckles and shakes his head, his eyes skimming over the photos that you and him took earlier today at this gallery you somehow managed to drag him to. When his thumb swipes right to see yet another photo, your face suddenly takes up the entire screen, your full red lips forming a heart, a fucking sinful pout, your shimmering eyes watching him with such playfulness and boldness, he is instantly drawn to them and stunned speechless.

When did you manage to take this photo anyway?...

“What can I say, it’ll be our loss,” Billy answers hurriedly before you come back to his room from the bathroom wondering what the hell has got his tongue.

He can actually think of a few things, his hooded eyes still glued to the screen. His tongue sure would feel like home on those plump lips, among other places…

“He suggested that we hang out. When did hanging out even become a thing?! What does that even supposed to mean? ” you muse as the shower stops running, and Billy curses himself mentally, trying to ignore the tense feeling in his groin.

Dimming the screen of his phone, he throws it on the bed by his side. With his eyes fixed on the empty doorway leading to the bathroom, he tries to do his best to relax, allowing his back to hit the pillows.

“I don’t know,” he considers it out loud, biting the inside of his cheek. “Maybe it means, like, let’s spend some quality time together, you know?”

Get naked, have lots of sex and maybe even dinner?, his mind spirals back to your lips.

What the fuck is wrong with him.

Your laugh is the prettiest thing he has ever heard – and felt. As he takes in the smooth melody, goosebumps immediately spread all over his body, awakening his senses. Like some sort of a top-quality drug, spreading in his veins, getting his entire body tingle with excitement.

God damn, he has it bad.

“Is that what you mean when you ask me to hang out?” before he can even realize he said what he thinks he thought out loud, you step into his bedroom, and he nearly groans, and chokes on his own saliva.

With your hair curled at the ends, the front strands rolled back in some kind of a retro style, your lips still sinner red, you stand in front of him wearing black stockings that hit you just a couple of inches above your knees and one of his dress shirts, because you probably couldn’t find a bathrobe.

He considers thinking about dead puppies, but his mind already pictures his hands sliding up your thighs as he fucks you into the wall…

“No,” he lets out in a husky voice, flicking his eyes to your face, illuminated with a completely oblivious smile. “I could never-” he stutters, “I’d never want to do that to you… I mean, with you…”, watching your expression darken up some, he suddenly realizes it all comes out wrong.

Bloody hell, just shut your trap up!

“I mean, we’re buddies, right?” Billy finally manages weakly, hating himself for every word that leaves his mouth. “We can never be…”, he even considers just stopping talking all together, your smile having disappeared entirely, and having been replaced by a small frown and a pout.

That fucking pout.

“All I’m saying, is…” Billy rakes his fingers through his thick mane of hair, exasperated and fed up with himself. “…I don’t think this kind of hanging out can ever be our thing”.

Just when he breathes out, thinking it could have gone so much worse, his eyes shift back to your face. The next thing he knows you snap at him, your hands on your hips.

“Of course not,” Billy can sense metal ringing in every word. “Besides, hanging out would never cut it for me.”

With these words, you’re a whirlwind of cotton, hair and lipstick, as you turn on your heels and power walk back to the bathroom, tense and frustrated.

Billy feels like a blithering idiot, staring at the spot where you’ve been standing seconds ago. Moaning softly and biting his bottom lip, he buries his face in his hands.

He’d really better get his libido in line, before he drives you away with his horrendous stupidity and infinite babbling that doesn’t even make sense.

Your ringtone goes off in the bathroom all of the sudden, somewhat shaking Billy out of his stupor. You take a moment to answer, swearing under your breath as Billy hears something clutter against the tile floors, probably your perfume.

“Hey, Karen. What’s up?” It seems to him that you sound completely off, some kind of emotion that you’re trying to desperately fight raw in your voice. You clear your throat, and the sound makes Billy’s entire body go cold.

You are not angry. You’re disappointed, and you’re doing a pretty shitty job trying to mask it.

“Okay, okay, don’t freak out, Bill and I will think of something,” you dash out of the bathroom and back into where Billy sits. You widen your eyes at him, as if sending him silent signals. “He’s going to call Frank right now, and tell him he needs him to pass by his place. We’ll think of some excuse,” worry laces your every word, and Billy is up on his feet, alert as his Marine senses kick in. Even though he knows it’s just a goddamn surprise birthday party, and nobody’s in danger. For now. “Worst case scenario, he gets to your place before the guests do. It’s still going to be a hell of a surprise!”

You close your mouth abruptly. Billy watches you with concern in his dark eyes, and just as he reaches out and wraps his fingers around your wrist, the lights in his apartment go off, and the entire room is drowned in pitch-black darkness.

Something’s happening on the other end of the line, Billy can tell, as you call Karen’s name a couple of times. He lights up the flash on his phone with his free hand, blinking a couple of times.

“Hell’s Kitchen has shitty cellphone service as it is,” Billy tries to reassure in a hushed voice even though he knows better than to speak. “The citywide blackout sure ain’t helping”.

He instantly regrets having opened his mouth as your eyes shoot daggers at him in the light that his iPhone’s emanating.

“Yeah, no shit, Russo,” you scoff at him.

Before Billy can even open his mouth and retort, he finally hears Karen’s voice, and you shake Billy’s grip off your hand, without even looking at him. Your voice is a tad strangled but still firm as you tell Karen that the blackout might slow Frank down. You also tell her to stay put while Billy calls him to see where he’s at.

As you drop the call, you put the flash on your iPhone on and return back to the bathroom, not saying a word.

Having watched you disappear, Billy drops back on the couch, sighing, still trying to wrap his head around how much of a fucking retard he is. He lights his phone up, only to see the No Service message in bold white letters. Muttering a curse under his breath, he flicks the flash mode off, so he’s left sitting in the darkness, his eyes fixed on the light coming from the bathroom.

“I’ve got zero service, but I still can get hold of my guys so they can track ‘im ,” Billy suggests, his thumb rubbing against his phone’s screen in a nervous gesture.

“Do that then,” his heart breaks a little as he hears you answer cooly, like you couldn’t give less crap about what he does. “We’ll be going in five, just let me get dressed”.

Silence settles in the room until you curse under your breath, the light in the bathroom going off. Your phone must have died.

“So the hanging out guy”, he hates the begging tones in his voice, but Billy speaks up anyway, clearing his throat. He knows that probably makes him a coward, but he finds it easier to voice his thoughts while being immersed in darkness. “Did you tell ‘im that? That hanging out doesn’t cut it for you?” he asks, not even sure he wants to know the answer. Because what if she didn’t?

What if she took him up on his offer?

Billy doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle that.

He hears you scoff almost immediately at his lame questions while you’re in the middle of the fucking blackout, but he still prepares himself for the answer, whatever it might be.

“Oh yeah,” you reappear back in his room, carrying your little burgundy dress on a hanger in one hand, and a pair of killer Loubotin shoes in the other. Knowing you’ll probably need light, Billy lights up his phone again. “I told him to fuck off and call me when he grows a pair… which is never going to happen, so I’m sure as hell safe”.

Billy can feel the colour drain from his cheeks as he suddenly realizes you may not be talking about that pathetic loser who suggested that you and him hang out, because he is a fucking coward and couldn’t ask you out on a proper date.

As you make a point out of ignoring him, Billy wants to smash his head against the wall.

And then it finally hits him.

Yeah, actually, you are still talking about that loser.

That loser being him.

He squeezes his eyes shut at first, as he hears you hassle behind his back, not saying a word; when suddenly something pushes him up onto his feet, a surge of adrenaline, the sentiment of now-or-never beating his common sense into submission, relative darkness encouraging him to do something he knows he might regret.

Billy turns around to face you, and from the moment he’s struck dumb by the sight before his eyes, he knows this entire situation is going haywire.

His eyes hit your bare shoulders and exposed back. His stare slides down with the shirt that you are taking off, standing with his back to him. His eyes go wide and his pupils are blown out with lust as he catches a glimpse of the black lace underwear. As if sensing his burning stare, you half turn your head… Your eyes lock.

His breathing has yet to return to normal, but the next thing he knows, Billy is crushing your soft body into the cool wall, his fingers digging into your hips, his mouth ruining that vampire pout of yours. Biting and gnawing on your lips, he is surprised when you push your tongue into his mouth, your fingers snaking into his hair, pulling at it harshly.

With some kind of wild energy pumping through his veins, fire of lust licking at the corners of his mind, Billy drags his lips along your neck and collarbone, running his fingertips along the lace-covered underside of your breasts.

“Fuck, Billy,” you moan, your voice barely audible, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t tease”.

The way you say his name strikes deep within him, his erection rock hard and pressed against where you need him most, he likes to think.

He has to remind himself that you have no idea how many times he has fucked his own hand pretending it was your lips wrapped around his cock.

“I’m going to make you come into my mouth and then I’m taking you to bed”, Billy can feel a thorough shiver raking through you as he whispers the words against your swollen lips. A moan that escapes them is downright scandalous and Billy would chuckle if you didn’t unclasp your bra, silently surrendering yourself to him.

As Billy takes one of your breasts into his mouth, puckering his lips against your skin, you gasp, your hips moving forward. It’s only moments before Billy drops to his knees, his fingers rolling black lace down your legs. Billy’s tongue laps against the swollen bud of nerve endings between your thighs. His lips wrap around you, as he slides a finger up your wet, shuddering core.

With his dick pressing painfully against the fly of his trousers, Billy hears you moan his name again. When he looks up, he sees you open your eyes, watching him fuck you with his fingers. He feels you tighten around him, your eyes rolling back as you come, screaming his name and squeezing his hand in between your soft thighs, riding out your high…

—

“Stop staring at me,” you whisper with your eyes closed, feeling Billy’s dark eyes on you. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles hoarsely and dives down, hovering over your body. His lips burn your bare hipbones as his hands squeeze as much of your ass as he can reach, your skin orange in the rays of the morning sun.

“God, Russo, you’re insatiable,” you growl, but Billy knows you’re hiding a smile as you bury your face in a pillow.

“You have no idea,” Billy smirks, kissing the spot just above your belly button this time. His lips don’t waver as he takes this party lower.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and Billy lifts himself up in response, his hungry lips crashing down on yours.

Leaving you breathless, Billy hovers over you, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Do you think we fucked up Frank’s surprise birthday party?” you ask him, cupping his cheek with one of your hands. “I can’t believe we missed the entire happening. Karen is going to kill us both.”

Billy brushes his lips against yours one more time and from the soft yet mischievous look in his eyes you can tell he has absolutely zero regrets.

“She hasn’t called, so I think they didn’t miss us much”, he wets his bottom lip. “Fifty bucks says they know what we were up to, and probably drank a round of shots to celebrate”.

You roll yours eyes at him, but you know what he says makes sense. This dancing around each other and ‘we’re just friends’ crap was getting old, especially for Karen and Frank.

“So what now?” you ask him.

The stare of those bottomless eyes burns again, possibly more that his touch as his hand slides up and down your ribs under the blanket. You bite on your bottom lip, hard, trying to keep a loud moan in.

“I don’t know,” Billy looks like he weighs his options. “You want to maybe hang out?’

This wasn’t what you expected, not by a very long shot. It’s out of your control as you gasp at the nerve of him, gripping his roaming hand so hard he actually winces, the Marine that he is.

“Hey, easy there, m’love,” you freeze as the nickname reaches your ears. Billy uses your reaction to free his hand, bringing it to your face. His mouth is mere inches away from yours, and you feel your stomach erupt with what feels like hippopotamuses doing an Irish dance. “What I meant is have lots of sex, and maybe even a breakfast date?...”

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher #billy russo imagine #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo smut #ben barnes smut

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spartanguard · 4 years

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two doors down

Summary: Emma's just had her heart broken—again. But she's going to distract herself by finally going to her friends' party, two doors down from her apartment. The party—and the dashing gentleman she meets at it—prove to be just what she needed.

3.2k words | rated light M | AO3

A/N: Here I go again...back on my Dolly Parton bs. But I make no apologies because Dolly in an inspirational queen. I’ve wanted to write a one-shot based on Two Doors Down pretty much ever since I heard the song, and the @csconcertseries seemed like the right opportunity to scratch that itch. (and then Dumb Blonde demanded to be included as well because it’s a bop.) so...have fun!

“Really, Emma?” Walsh sneered when she confronted him. “You thought I was serious about you? I guess you really are a dumb blonde.”

In case anyone was wondering why Emma was crying, it was that. She shouldn’t be—it was dumb, he was dumb, not her—but that didn’t seem to matter, apparently. The asshole had somehow managed to find a crack in the walls around her beat-up, bargain store heart and, once inside, found an old bruise and punched it. Or something like that. She wasn’t great with words.

Or emotions, apparently, or men—though she was already aware of that one (thus: the walls). (Well, okay, and being abandoned by her parents and growing up in the shittier parts of the foster system. But that’s besides the point.) Anyways. She had thought that maybe, finally, she’d found one guy who wouldn’t hurt her—who was safe enough to consider giving her heart to.

And then she’d caught him sleeping with a coworker. On a mattress in his furniture store. On their anniversary.

And he apparently had the gall to call her dumb. What a dick.

After giving him the rightful slap he was due, she stormed out and ran home. Then she grabbed the wine she’d been saving for tonight, popped the cork, and drank right out of the bottle.

What a fucking loser.

(She wasn’t sure if that applied more to her, or to him.

Because, at the end of the night, she was the one drinking alone while he was probably still having too much fun on his own merchandise.)

With about half the bottle gone, she finally hit the point where all her tears were gone and she was probably some level of dehydrated. Her apartment was eerily quiet without the sound of her sobs, it seemed, but she could hear loud music coming from down the hall.

Oh yeah—Dave and Snow’s party.

They were her neighbors—well, they lived two doors down, but she definitely talked to them more than the grumpy dude who lived between them. They were easily the nicest, most outgoing people on the planet, and had been trying for as long as Emma had lived there to come over to one of their parties.

Usually, Emma was able to use work as an excuse, or a date (like she was supposed to have had tonight), to explain why she couldn’t go. But it was really fear—fear of rejection, of not measuring up, of plain old awkwardness—that kept her away.

It always sounded like a good time, though, and she could hear the music pumping and people laughing whenever they hosted these get-togethers. Apparently, they were at the drunk-enough-to-sing-loudly part of the night, because she heard the lyrics perfectly as the crowd shouted them:

Just because I’m blonde, don’t think I’m dumb ‘Cause this dumb blonde ain’t nobody’s fool

She laughed, albeit watery, at that, considering Dave was the blond of the two of them. But then she thought about it again, and what her ass of a now-ex had said: there was nothing dumb or foolish about Emma. Maybe she should have listened to that voice that had told her she was out of his league when he’d first asked her out, but right now, she just needed to tune out his grating words and focus on Dolly’s—about kicking trash to the curb and moving on.

And, you know what? She was gonna go to that party.

She blew her nose (rather noisily), then quickly washed her face and changed into something a little more presentable than her pajamas. She probably should be bringing something over, but her wine was gone and Walsh had drank the last of her beer the other night. She briefly considered the half-empty box of Pop-Tarts in her cupboard, but that was breakfast.

So, empty-handed as she was, she headed out the door, locked it, and wandered down the bit of hallway to the Nolan’s place. She could hear the sounds of revelry and pounding bass on the other side of the door, and was nervous—would they think she was intruding? Her knock was equally timid, and probably not even heard by the crowd inside.

To her shock, though, the door was thrown open a few seconds later. “Emma! You came!” Snow shouted, then launched herself at Emma in an inebriated hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you finally made it! Where’s Walsh?”

Emma cringed, and not just from Snow’s alcohol-elevated volume. “He’s fucking his floor manager. So he’s busy. But I’m not now!” she added, trying to make it sound not terrible.

But Snow gasped anyways, covering her mouth in shock. She ushered Emma in, closing the door behind her, and then dragged her to the living room. “You need wine.”

“I had, like, half a bottle already.”

“Okay, well, you need more.”

“I won’t disagree.”

Snow left her in the middle of a throng of people that thankfully included David, who wrapped her into a bear hug (that only slightly smelled like beer—beer hug?) and made some introductions. Snow returned shortly with a pint glass full of pinot, and the next hour became a blur of booze and dancing.

She quickly made friends with girls named Ruby and Belle who, once they heard about what had happened to Emma that day, got some shots involved. The music was a solid mix of girl power anthems (there may have been more screaming to “Since U Been Gone” and “Wannabe” from partygoers of all genders) and Emma found herself seriously wondering just what the hell she’d been doing the past few months—both with Walsh and in her avoidance of these parties; she was having way more fun here than she ever had with that douche.

Eventually, she did have to take a respite to visit the restroom and get some water—she wasn’t about to blackout over a breakup—but when she left the bathroom, she wasn’t watching where she was going and slammed into someone else.

“Woah—you alright, love?” the lilting voice attached to the firm body asked. She could feel his hand squeezing her shoulder, but given her very recent track record, was scared to look this guy in the eyes. The last thing she needed was a face as pretty as that accent, or as enticing as the bit of chest hair peeking out through his button-up, or as alluring as the scent of his cologne (which she got a good whiff of when her face collided with his chest).

“Seriously—are you okay?” He sounded so concerned—her head was moving before she could think otherwise.

And that was either the best thing she’d ever done, or the worst.

Dark, messy hair hung over his forehead, where thick brows were furrowed with worry. A strong nose pointed to full lips, surrounded by gingery scruff that led her mind other places. But his eyes—holy crap; even in the dimness of the hallway, they were a bright blue, and she’d had just enough to drink that she thought she just might be swaying along with the waves in their oceanic depths.

(She got poetic when she got drunk; this was a well-established fact.)

“Lass?” Oh god--she’d been staring, hadn’t she?

“Fine! I’m fine. Sorry. Are you?”

“‘Fine’ is definitely something I’ve been called,” he quipped back, concern melting into cockiness with a wink.

Ugh, she didn’t need any more of that in her life. She rolled her eyes and stepped back, putting enough distance between them to not feel the warmth coming off of him (she was producing enough of that herself--or, at least, the shots of vodka were). “Good to know. I’m just gonna get back out there, then.” Avoiding his gaze, she did her best to slip around him in the narrow hallway.

“Wait,” he called out, and grabbed her wrist as she slipped by. “Sorry; that wasn’t very gentleman-like.” He was definitely being sincere, she could tell. “I, uh, I’m rusty at all this. Let me back up: I’m Killian; I’m a friend of Dave’s from college.”

Of course his name was sexy, too. He’d stuck his hand out amiably; she’d be the asshole not to take it. So she did. “Emma; I live a couple doors down.”

“Ahh, yes--I’ve heard of you: the mysterious neighbor,” he said, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Delighted to finally make your acquaintance.”

Who was this guy? And why did he talk like he had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel? “I bet you tell all the girls that.”

He shrugged. “There haven’t been any of those lately.”

“Guys, then?”

He laughed—a deep chuckle that she wouldn’t complain about hearing again. “No, none of those, either.”

“Good. They suck.”

“What, all of them?”

“Most of them.”

“Well, hopefully I find myself in the minority.” He was still holding her hand, and brought it to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it. Were it not for the slight shiver that went through her at that, she’d be running for the hills (or at least her own apartment); but she was usually good at spotting a lie, Walsh notwithstanding, and she could tell he meant it.

“Wanna get a drink?” she asked, a bit breathless.

“Absolutely.”

They grabbed another round of wine and took a seat on the couch, which was somehow unoccupied—everyone was still busy dancing and drinking and socializing. Honestly, Emma was a little surprised that so many people fit in a two-bedroom apartment (but it wasn’t like she’d ever tried to have more than a couple people in hers).

“So, what’s your story?” Killian leaned in close to ask. They were practically nose-to-nose in order to be heard over the music, but she didn’t mind it. And, for some reason, she found her entire life story spilling out to him; not even Walsh had learned everything: about growing up in the foster system, her first heartbreak and the baby she gave up, the reason she’d gone into bailbonds work (so people like Neal couldn’t continue to break hearts). Even the sordid tale of her very-recent breakup.

“He’s a right arse,” Killian said, clinking his glass with hers. “But I’m glad his absence has brought you into my presence.”

“Me too,” she said.

His past was equally tragic: mom died, dad left, then brother died; lost his hand, his girlfriend, and his naval career in the same accident; but he still got to work as an engineer, and still got to go sailing on the weekends.

“God, Killian...you poor thing,” was all she could say.

He averted his gaze—and was either blushing, or flushed from the alcohol and heat of the room—and just said, “It’s in the past, where it belongs. And, honestly, the future is looking pretty good right now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, I hope so.”

She wasn’t bold enough to say it—or confident, given that she was just coming out of a relationship—but she was thinking that, too.

The music switched from girl pop to Disney tunes—it was only a matter of time, considering that Snow was only a few steps away from being an IRL Disney princess—which prompted a conversation about their favorite Disney films, then movies in general, then books and music and all sorts of things. It was casual and easy and, honestly, she didn’t think she’d ever connected with someone so quickly; not since she was a kid and still had some innocence about her.

A slow song came on, and Killian set down his empty glass. “Would you care to dance?”

She gaped a bit; no one had ever asked her that. “What—for real? To this?”

“You just told me you’d seen Enchanted, and I believe that’s what they did to this song. So yes: will you, Emma Swan, dance with me?”

Somewhere, lonely teenage Emma was yelling at her to say yes and fulfill all her wildest prom dreams. Oh, who was she kidding—grown-up Emma still had those dreams. “Yeah, I will.”

He stood and offered her his prosthetic hand; she set her empty glass aside and took it, then followed him up. Gently, he guided her to an empty spot in the room—about 2 feet away—and then put his hand on her waist; she was probably supposed to put hers on his shoulder or something, but she did the same (and definitely noticed the firmness of his core).

They didn’t have much room to move—Dave and Snow were making out a few feet away, as were Ruby and Belle, and another couple—but Killian somehow managed to perform some actual dance steps.

“What the heck is that, and how do you know it?” she wondered aloud, trying to keep up.

“It’s called a waltz, and there’s only one rule,” he explained, then leaned in to whisper in her ear: “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

She’d definitely had a bit too much to actually memorize the steps, but she managed to keep up for a bit, until she lost her balance a bit after hitting the edge of the coffee table. Once again, she fell into his chest, but this time, he wrapped his arms tight around her to stabilize her—and she did the same.

“Is this a habit of yours?” he joked, but the twinkle in his eye told her that he wasn’t complaining.

“Just with you,” she tossed back.

“And what makes me so special?”

“You get it.”

He gave her a shy smirk that cut an adorable dimple into his scruff.

And she couldn’t help it: she kissed it.

The wide-eyed stare he wore when she pulled back told her that it was as much a shock to him as it was to her; she never made the first move. But there was just something about him that made her want to throw caution to the wind—or maybe she just knew it was okay to do that with him.

Feeling even bolder, she grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips down to hers. He didn’t hesitate to respond in kind and god, he was good: the right amount of pressure, the scratch of his beard, the feel of his hand on her back...oh man.

She normally wouldn’t have done what she did next—not when there were feelings involved, at least—but hey, it was a night for doing new things, right?

“Do you want to take this somewhere else?” she murmured when they eventually broke apart for air.

“Where did you have in mind?”

“My place.”

“Lead the way, love.”

It didn’t seem like anyone noticed as they slipped out, and she’d never managed to get her door open faster. It had just clicked shut before she was on him, pressing him back against it, her hands wandering over his upper body while her tongue picked up where their earlier dance had left off.

Her fingers found themselves near his belt, and before they went too far, his warm hand gently stilled hers. “Are you sure, love?” he asked, panting. “I...I don’t just want to be a rebound,” he confessed.

God, she hadn’t even thought of that. Walsh was already a distant memory. “I don’t want that, either.”

“Alright, then. Proceed.”

“God, you’re a dork.”

“Guilty.”

“Good thing I like it.”

Her lips found his again as her fingers danced over him, and his over her; a trail of clothing marked their path to her bedroom (with only a brief stop against the back of her couch), and they landed naked on her unmade bed.

His large hand and deft fingers found their way to her entrance and were lightly teasing it--the gentlest of brushes that nearly had her seeing stars, and definitely distracted her from fishing the condoms out of her bedside table.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not; might need an extra hand, though.”

She almost came back down to earth just to glare at him, but the cheesy grin he wore just made her laugh. It wasn't like she minded, anyway.

She used the opportunity to do a bit of foreplay herself, stroking his considerable length before, during, and after gliding the sheath on. The guttural groan he let out went straight through her.

Enough foreplay—she needed him. She grabbed his shoulders and pressed her chest against his; the brush of his chest hair against her nipples had her arching into him, and his hard cock was pressing right where she wanted him. “You ready?”

“Gods, yes,” he breathed.

And when they came together, she couldn’t remember anyone she’d ever been with before. She was completely aware of the hyperbole but honestly, he just felt so good inside her.

Then he moved, and she forgot her own name, and his, and anyone else’s.

She’d had the kind of sex before where time seemed to stop, but with Killian, it seemed to stop even longer, if that was possible; once they found their rhythm, every press of their hips brought her nearer and nearer to the edge of oblivion, but not so fast that she couldn’t enjoy it.

When she finally fell off, she hadn’t even realized she’d been that close—and let the waves of pleasure wash over her with abandon.

Killian wasn’t far behind her; she felt him still within her as he came with a shout. Normally, she’d be worried about how much noise they made, but she could still hear music coming from the Nolan’s; they were safe.

He collapsed beside her just long enough to catch his breath, then excused himself to clean up. God, he really was a gentleman; a lot of the guys she’d been with hadn’t been so polite about that. He came back a couple minutes later with a washcloth for her to use--seriously, no guy had ever done that. Then he flopped back on her creaky mattress and wrapped his left arm around her.

“You’re bloody incredible, love...and bloody gorgeous,” he said softly, then pressed a kiss on her bare shoulder.

“You’re no slouch, either,” she replied, and hoped the light was dim enough that he couldn’t see how furiously she was blushing.

“You know...I almost didn’t go to the party tonight,” he said. “It was a long day and I wasn’t sure I felt up to people.”

“Yeah?” Logically, she knew other people had had shitty days, but it was easy to forget about in the face of her own.

“I’m very glad I did, though,” he continued.

“So am I.”

He pressed a gentle kiss against her lips then, and pulled her a bit closer with his prosthesis. “Think we should head back?” he proposed.

“Mm, nah,” she answered. “They’ll have more parties.”

“Aye, they probably will.”

“And I like the one we’re having right now.”

“Mm, as do I.”

The other party continued into the wee hours of the morning, but Emma and Killian’s went even longer: all through the night, through part of the next day, and for a very, very long time thereafter.

Some time later, she heard that Dolly song again, and another set of lyrics stood out to her:

And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned Blondes have more fun

She looked over at Killian and smiled; damn right they do.

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

thanks for reading! tagging some friends: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes

#CSCS #cs ff #cs modern au #cs smut #my ff #dolly parton au

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isuzukuretsuki · 5 years

Text

Ikemen Revolution - Fenrir’s Route

Aaaand here’s one for Fenrir’s route!

My main comments are: FUCK those avatar challenges. It took me five thousand years to finish this damn route because I was stuck grinding for Lin for five thousand years because according to cybird, I can’t get the good ending w ma man unless I look cute smh.

The night that Alice lands in Cradle, she pretty much goes out to the garden to sob her eyes out because of the stress of being killed (oh honey don’t worry this game doesn’t have any bad ends. If you were in a game like Amnesia then I’d start crying LMAO). Fenrir happens to see her and wipes her tears away (*๓´╰╯`๓). He decides to spend the month with Alice to make her have as much fun as possible, and makes her promise that so there will be no regrets, the two will not fall in love.

But we all know that’s not gonna happen.

I guess because the boys finally learned from Lancelot’s route to never send a nameless faceless nobody with Alice, Ray assigns Fenrir as her personal bodyguard.

Fenrir takes it upon himself to be Alice’s personal tour guide, so they go on a date around the Central Quarter eating all kinds of sweets like a bunch of dorks D’AWW. Of course the red army are full of party poopers who crashes their alone time.

@Red army boys, I LOVE YOU ALL BUT YOUR SOLDIERS NEEDA CHILL. Like my grievances from Lancelot’s route carry over in twofold because the nameless red soldiers are once again, STILL a bunch of blood thirsty hooligans who are clearly letting “may glory flow crimson through our veins” slogan get to their heads WAYY too much.

(☪̤̆_̆ ☪̤̆) THAT’S SO SPECIFIC LMAO.

But anyhoo I guess having a body guard with actual plot armor was really beneficial because Fenrir drives off all of the Red soldiers! And as it turns out, they were sent by Edgar (but of course why am I not surprised smh).

They return home and a few black army soldiers comes out shitting their pants because apparently there’s a ghost, and when Fenrir hears that HE shits his pants.

Luka has his priorities straight.

Fenrir pussyfoots outside the army headquarters for a few minutes because GHOST but then big bear Sirius comes out RURL pissed because everyone keeps making a ruckus.

WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY. LIKE IT’S PICTURE PERFECT. I CAN IMAGINE HIM DOING THIS IN MY HEAD FRAME BY FRAME.

So the ghost was actually a magic cult goon creeping around like a lech looking for women's’ underwear, whom Seth covered for. I had zero interest in Seth before but I do find it interesting that more hints about Seth’s connection to the magic cult goons are being dropped, and if anything it makes me want to play his route now.

I’d love to be your friend!!! But unfortunately Fenrir is a giant stick in the mud and won’t let me! But never fear because your route is coming out soon so soon I’ll be more than just your friend LOL!

Fenrir gets news that some of their soldiers got cornered on the Red Bridge. Well what do you know, turns out the nameless red soldiers are still mad that they busted a nut in anticipation for nothing because they didn’t get to skewer any soldiers in Lancelot’s route, so now they’re taking out their pent up frustration here.

Luka hears the news as well and rushes to the red bridge just in time to see Jonah and the rest of the red soldiers man handling the black army soldiers (wtf Jonah I expected better of you). Luka goes from simmering with rage to boiling with rage and charges at the red soldiers. Obviously the red soldiers don’t care (or... they just can’t comprehend) that Luka is their superior’s freaking brother because all they can think about is reaping the reward for unnecessary stabbing and so they go into Ultimate Shish Kabobing Mode and decide to kill Luka.

Jesus christ... these fucking red soldiers. I am so sorry but I think the only people in this clown of an army that has any shred of honor or self control are the red army love interests LOL.

Anyway Fenrir drags Luka’s delirious bloody corpse back to the black army and the scene ain’t pretty. But it’s okay because we all know that this game doesn’t have the balls to actually kill anyone so it’s not like there’s any need to be worried.

See even Alice acknowledges it lol. This game’s too soft (not that that’s necessarily a bad thing... if I want angst I’ll just read fanfiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Apparently the one who actually made swiss cheese of Luka was Jonah. At first I was just SO CONFUSION?? JONAH WOULD NEVER DO THAT! until this bomb dropped and my only reaction was honestly just “...yikes”.

CRIES @ MY HEART

Jonah sneaks into Black Territory unarmed and Fenrir decides to arrange for him to see Luka like a the great wingbro he is. Alice’s left awkwardly keeping Jonah company but the ice quickly breaks and they end up spending the day talking about Luka ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡.

Fenrir successfully sneaks Jonah into Luka’s room but the two end up just having a screaming match and Luka boots Jonah out of his room. Understandable, considering how all the red soldiers are like little kids that you needa put those backpack straps on because who knows what the fuck they’ll do if left to their own devices.

me whenever I have any kind of guests over.

eat my ass @ Sirius

When it’s decided that the Black and Red army are gonna go to war for realsies, Alice requests to go onto the battle field with Fenrir so she can repel magic. Sirius freaks out going all like “ojou-chan, you mustn’t! It’s not a walk in the park!!” but Alice ain’t having any of that and essentially tells Sirius to eat her ass. Fenrir being the amazing bro he is sticks up for Alice and asks Ray if he can take her with him, swearing he’ll protect her. Ray’s like sigh fine. This scene was honestly my favourite because I loved how much confidence Fenrir had in Alice and how he respected her desire to help. Unlike a certain someone ੧| ‾́ェ ‾́ |੭ (totally not throwing shade at Sirius LMAO).

CRIES SOME MORE THAT’S SUCH A CUTE NICKNAME.

I could have asked the exact same thing of you Sirius.

The rest of the Black Army can clearly see sparks flying between Fenrir and Alice but unfortunately, Fenrir has to join Sirius in the emotional constipation of “what is this feeling in my chest?! Definitely not love!” Granted Fenrir has an excuse because of the promise he made her, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless.

oh my god can you shut up about this dumbass slogan for one minute.

Ngl despite the heart warming moment of resolve when Fenrir decides to take Alice into battle, it’s pretty damn hard to take the war seriously because it feels like a bunch of 14 year old teenagers doing a play-war considering of how almost comedic it is. Again, I’m not saying that this game needs to be an angst fest where everyone dies, but for a story about two armies on the brink of war, it does a pretty bad job at building any real tension or showing this war as a source of any real conflict with any real stakes or any real consequences.

I totally *do not* dislike that nickname 👀

We cut back to the red army who are all quite frazzled because they all had that “oh fuck” moment when they realized that they’re getting their asses whooped by the black army. Lancelot decides to stay his hand, whereas Jonah rages at Edgar’s incompetence but Edgar’s ultimately like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ King’s orders”.

Alice you’re doing amazing, sweetie.

Alice continues to fight with Fenrir on the front lines but she realizes that she really loves him and she doesn’t want to go home anymore! UNFORTUNATELY FOR HER, our lovely gentleman Fenrir “this feeling in my chest is totally love but I WON’T ADMIT IT!” Godspeed repeatedly dodges her attempts at confessing (¬_¬). GOOD SIR I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. You’re just trying to put off having a heart to heart about your feelings until the full moon so you can boot Alice back to her world without ever having to talk about it (ლಠ益ಠ)ლ.

Alice tries once again for the nth time to confess her feelings to Fenrir but this time they’re interrupted by the magic cult goons who are hell bent on capturing Alice. This plays out exactly as you’d predict and the two get cornered at a cliff LOL. Alice gets blown off the cliff and Fenrir jumps after her to save her.

This, my friends, is what we call: plot armor.

They miraculously (and conveniently) survive their fall and end up in the castle ruins in the forbidden forest. I guess being lost in an abandoned forest with a totally not haunted castle next to them sets the mood for sexy time because they end up making out like their life depends on it. Conveniently, without actually saying they love each other ლ(ಠ_ಠლ).

GUYS... THE DRIVER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE.... GUYS....

They make it back to Black Territory in one piece with the help of Loki and Harr and Ray loses his shit because he thought they died T T T. Fenrir is sent back to the front lines and Alice is totally ready to go back and kick some ass but I guess all the fire and confidence in this power couple completely deflated because Fenrir becomes Sirius 2.0 and refuses to take Alice SMH.

Alice finds Fenrir boarding a carriage to leave, and she stops him and tries to tell him that she loves him. Fenrir responds by pulling Alice into the carriage with him and at this point I was HYPED because “is he actually gonna take her with him?!?!” but my hopes are quickly dashed when he shoves her into the carriage, initiates round 2 of INTENSE MAKE OUT SESSION LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT..... then throws Alice’s sad ass back out of the carriage and leaves her behind once he’s finished (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻.

UGH! FENRIR! JUST--- AGHHHHHHH.

YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN. Like yea sex is great, but have you ever heard of proper verbal communication??

(I also find it funny how the driver was just sitting there the entire time they were making out doing a big boi sweat).

me with group assignments in school.

Fenrir comes back on the night of the full moon and Alice for the 100TH DAMN TIME IN THIS ROUTE, tries to tell him that she doesn’t want to go home, but Fenrir, again, dashes her hopes and tells her she has to go back he won’t be able to protect her all the time. Which we all know is bullshit, but nevertheless Alice decides to listen to him.

Ha ha ha you are so full of shit.

And so Alice once again goes to the gates of hell garden portal which I officially dub as “The Hole Where Bad Things Happen” or more accurately, “The Hole That No Player Ever Wants To See”.

Anyhoo Alice leaps back home and spends about a month moping in London until one day a black army soldier comes to London and begs Alice to go back with him because Fenrir’s in danger! Alice, having literally zero self preservation because I guess her time on the battle field taught her jack shit, blindly follows this fellow back to Cradle and the moment she arrives, the guy reveals himself to be a magic cult goon and so she’s kidnapped and taken to Amon’s sex dungeon.

Look. I’m not gonna accuse Alice of “dumb mc syndrome” and I don’t necessarily blame her for falling for it but at the same time, COME ON. THIS IS THE DUMBEST PLOT POINT EVER. Of all the possible reasons she comes back to Cradle, THIS IS THE ONLY THING THEY COULD THINK OF? What makes it so aggravating is that it’s stated multiple times that any person from Reason can repel magic, so if that’s the case, the cult goons could have just kidnapped any random off the street instead of wasting time and energy looking for Alice. And if they could conveniently stroll into the land of Reason, why didn’t they do that ages ago?!

You know that writing rule “make your villains smarter, not your protagonists dumber”, or something like that? Well in this case, everyone is dumb!

Anyway during the month Alice was gone, Lancelot finally decides to stop going radio silent and consults the Black Army about Amon and his weed stash. This felt really convenient and almost inconsistent with Lancelot’s character because in the other routes he was hell bent on not talking unless 100% cornered, but in Fenrir’s route he spills the beans like it’s no big deal.

Fenrir hears the news of Alice being kidnapped by Amon and the Black army pretty much storms into the Magic Tower and fishes Alice out. Amon finally reveals himself but honestly he doesn’t put up much of a fight because Fenrir shoots him with one of those hiccuping guns and that’s enough to deflate all of Amon’s fighting spirit lmao so he gets arrested in the end. Talk about anti climatic as hell. This entire thing just felt really stupid because if all they had to do with storm the damn tower, they should have done so ages ago.

Admittedly I do like the resolution to this whole fiasco. Fenrir is totally ready to get down and dirty, but before that Fenrir and Alice actually, finally, and at long last, properly talk about their feelings and sort out their relationship mess.

Dramatic End:

Alice officially joins the Black Army, and they hold her enrollment ceremony. Hosting it is usually Ray’s job since he’s king but since Alice is his best friend’s babe, he decides to let Fenrir take over. Unfortunately, Fenrir can’t keep his excitement in check and ends up picking Alice up and spinning her around in joy ╭(๑ ॔ㅂ ਂ ॓)و ̑̑. THIS WAS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS ENDING.

-----

Honestly I have a lot of mixed feelings about this route. There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly, but since I don’t wanna end this post on a salty note so I’ll just start with the ugly and work my way up.

The Ugly: The route starts losing momentum their promise of not falling in love morphs into the source for Fenrir’s self cockblock fest for the rest of the route and him repeatedly rebuffing Alice’s attempts to tell him she wants to stay in Cradle became unbearable frustrating. Playing Sakuya’s route in Norn9 alongside Fenrir’s route did not help at all because his route also had a “promise of not falling in love” premise and had the exact same problems as Fenrir’s route so honestly my frustration was just doubled at this point.

The Bad: The plot is balls off the rail in the second half if it isn’t obvious enough from my complaints earlier. The Hole That No Player Ever Wants to See making a reappearance in Fenrir’s route kills a lot of the build up between Alice and Fenrir and there was honestly no point of having Alice go back to London. The circumstances that lead her to returning were so stupid it had me head banging against the wall.

The Good: I think Fenrir and Alice have a very strong “friends to lovers” romance going on and it was honestly really sweet and wholesome. I loved how their friendship and subsequent romance builds them both up and makes them better people-- they’re both stronger together, they’re equals, they’re partners. You really get a sense of camaraderie between the two and their relationship is founded on mutual respect, understanding, trust, and confidence in each other which I’m 100% on board with. Fenrir taking Alice onto the battle field with him is a testament of the rock solid trust between them. They have a very strong partner in crime vibe that I love!

I adore how Fenrir refers to Alice as his “best friend” or his “best buddy” and it was just so cute, it made my heart swell because I’m a firm believer that your s/o SHOULD be your best friend.

Overall imo, Fenrir’s route is about on par with Lancelot’s, though it has higher highs and lower lows than Lancelot’s route did.

Anyway, I’m making my way through Edgar’s route currently (♥ω♥*).

#ikemen revolution #fenrir godspeed #ellie plays ikerev terribly

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jetstarsays · 5 years

Text

(Continued from https://jetstarsays.tumblr.com/post/186449423017/screaming-thats-all-jet-star-can-hear-it-takes

For @systematic-ghosts )

Jet came to sometime later. The sun had gone down and so did the temperature. He subconsciously shook, both from the cold and emotional outburst, and pulled his jacket around him a little tighter. He gathered his things carefully in the backpack again, trying to keep the toy truck off his mind. As standard in the Zones, he had to focus on survival. Jet pushed his past away with the shake of his head. He needed to survive the night.

Collecting himself with a sigh, he peeked his head up above his rocky cover and looked around. Jet half expected a Drac to be standing there, but the coast was clear—thank the Witch—so he proceeded on in a direction that he thought looked like the way to Doctor D’s shack. Now, Jet wasn’t born in the desert, but he spent enough time traveling through here to basically have it memorized. This area? Jet had no idea where he was. “Must be far out in Zone 5,” he muttered, placing his hand on his ray gun. All the Killjoys knew that the further out in the zones you go, the more radiation there is. The old ‘Joys talk of the effects of the radiation, the mutations of the animals. Basically, Zone 5 is not where any sane ‘Joy wants to spend his time. So, Jet walked. He rested during midday, when the sun was the hottest, and continued at dusk. He continued this pattern for a few days, trying to ignore how thirsty he was, how his leg ached, until a small, unassuming shack came into his view on the horizon. That must be it. Jet Star broke into a run for the second time, dashing full speed towards the radio station. He hoped the Doc wasn’t in the middle of a radio broadcast so he can talk to him.

Jet ran into—literally ran into—Show Pony and was thrown onto his back the sand. He looked up at the tall lanky Killjoy before him, still wearing their signature mask with a small grin.

“Hey there sugar!” Pony held a hand out to help Jet back up, “We heard you were in’a bit of a clap, it’s good to see you in one piece.”

Jet gasped for air, his voice catching in his dry throat. Pony took that as a cue to help Jet inside. The (slightly) cooler air hit Jet’s face the moment he stepped inside and he practically collapsed onto Pony and the Doc’s chair. Show Pony handed him a bottle of water which he gulped down.

“Pony? Where in the Witch is my screwdriver?” a voice bounded from the other room. Jet perked up instantly.

“Look in the drawer, Doc, where it always is.” Pony laughed in response, “But come ‘ere, we have company & I think he needs a doctor’s touch.”

The Doc wheeled into the room with a grin on his face. “Jet Star! It’s good to see you, son.” Doctor Death Defying, a legend in the Zones, rolled in the room in a wheelchair. He was a veteran of the Helium Wars. Jet was just a baby when they happened. Doc never really talked about how he ended up in a wheelchair and none of the ‘Joys that Jet knew had the stones to ask him.

“Hi Doc.” Jet breathed, “It’s good to see ya familiar face.” He put his face in his hands. “Doc, I almost got ghosted. Again. They found me. I fell asleep, I fucked up and let my guard down. Witch, if I got captured and tortured again.”

“Son, you didn’ get captured. You didn’ get clapped. You made it, kid.” Doc clasped a hand on Jet’s shoulder, “You should let Pony check ya out, make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

Jet gingerly rolled up his pant leg to reveal the burn mark on his calf.

“Ouch, Jet, how did that happen?” Pony asked, bringing over the full first aid kit.

“They blew up my hideout, I barely made it out. So much fire, flames.” He muttered, he could practically feel the heat on his face.

Pony grimaced, sitting down on the floor to treat him, their roller skates spread out in front of Jet’s legs. “Did you already treat this? Looks fairly clean.”

Jet nods and shrugs, “Party always made us carry a first aid kit.” He didn’t look up at the other two as he spoke quietly.

“Wise fella, Party Poison.” Doc chimed in, smiling a little.

It was quiet for a few moments, but Jet couldn’t hold it in any longer, “Doc. Do you think…do you think any of them made it out?” his gaze held steady to the floor, studying the shaggy rug’s details. The Doctor seemed to have been waiting for him to look back up. When Jet eventually met his eye, he said softly, “All intel inside BLi suggests they are either hidden inside or ghosted.” Jet’s shoulders fall, “But. With you lot, I wouldn’t doubt at least some of them are out here in the zones somewhere. Your crew is tough and stubborn, which is a good combination to fight BLi.”

Jet smiles out of the side of his mouth, remembering the previous clap, where Kobra Kid spat at the SCARECROWS that got too close. He looked up to see the Doc still watching him. Pony had gotten up to find food for their new hideaway.

“I know you’re scared; I know you want your crew and your boy back. But they’ll give you a sign.”

“I got one. My kid’s toy truck fell out of my bag while I was running. The one thing I have left of him.” Jet messed with the callous on his thumb, his gaze falling back downwards.

Pony skates back inside, carrying food as Doc answers, “I’m sorry, boy. I’ll have the runners keep an eye out for it.” He takes the food, a can of Power Pup and a can of oranges, and Jet does the same. Jet really dislikes Power Pup but when it’s mixed with other (actual food), it isn’t as bad. He needs to eat anyway; he’s been running in the desert for what feels like days. His body ached, his head still throbbed from dehydration, sobbing and, oh yeah, that blast.

“I’m not cut out for running alone.” Jet mutters between spoon-fuls.

“We can hook you up with—” Show Pony begins, but Jet stops her with a look.

“I only run with them, Pony.” He said, “I can’t replace my family.”

“Ain’t nobody trying to replace them, sweets.” Pony responds softly, “I just wanna keep you safe.”

Jet nodded, safe; that sounds nice. But this is the Zones, there is no such thing as safe. He was about to tell Pony as much when Doctor Death Defying perked up, “Okay, kids, I’m gonna hit the hay. Jet, you know you’re free to stay here.” Doctor patted Jet’s knee, and he whispered his thanks. Doc continued, “Pony, you stayin’ awake or comin’ with?”

“I ain’t tired, I’ll be in later.” Pony said, clasping the Doctor’s hand as he passed.

Jet hoisted his (suddenly feeling so heavy) legs onto the couch and laid back.

“I knew you survived.” Pony said sometime later, sounding almost smug, “Even when the others gave up hope, I knew it.”

Jet almost smiled, and rested his head back on the patchwork couch, “How long were we…was I gone?”

Show Pony considered for a moment, tapping their finger on their chin, “Had to be two weeks, maybe three.”

Three weeks?! He knew he lost track of time, but this is a shock. He was held at BLi for at least five of those days, they attempted to brain wash—what did they call it? Re-education. He doesn’t remember much about it, just pain. Overwhelming, excruciating pain. Jet isn’t a stranger to excruciating pain, but this was a whole new level.

Jet had his eyes closed for a while, on the brink of a flashback, and Show Pony must have thought he fell asleep because when he opened his eyes, he was alone. The room was quiet, way too quiet. Their home was usually buzzing with some sort of noise: Fun Ghoul working in the garage, Kobra Kid pacing, and, well, whatever the fuck Party Poison did during the day. He had become accustomed to it, he needed it.

Jet didn’t sleep, but he usually laid down and rested for a few hours at a time. The nightmares and sleep terrors of his past keep him awake. His friends don’t understand how he does it, Kobra tried staying up with Jet once and started hallucinating by the second night.

Jet sighed, he pushed those thoughts away and grabbed his backpack that was sitting on the floor beside him. He placed it on his stomach and looked inside for his radio. Eventually, Jet found a station still playing music and settled in, turning the volume way down so he doesn’t wake Doc and Pony.

He heard a familiar tune playing over the radio, although he can’t place it.

Coming out of my cage

And I've been doing just fine

Gotta gotta be down

Because I want it all

What is this song and why does it send chills down Jet’s spine?

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep

Jet assumed he must be losing it and tried to relax. Then the chorus came on.

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies

Choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay

Destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes

'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

Jet choked and sat up. It couldn’t be. How could this song come on now?! He hasn’t heard it in years. In…since his son was small. His chest ached. This was their song. His eyes welled up with tears as he was thrown into a flashback.

The two of them liked to go on runs together, or at least that’s what they told the others. In reality, the father and son duo sped around in the trans-am until they crashed or ran out of gas, blasting music that Jet knew before the war. Mr. Brightside, he remembered, was Ghost’s favorite. Jet considered it his favorite song just because of how happy it made his young son. Jet could practically feel the sand whipping at his face as he drove far too fast and recklessly, both screaming at the top of their lungs. He stole glances at Ghost in the passenger seat. In that moment, he was trying to imprint that smile into his memories. Ghost had a shitty life, and Jet was very aware that he was mostly responsible for how it went. He wanted to see that smile forever, but he knew, even then, that it was impossible. Not out here, in the desert.

Jet was thrust back into the present by a foreign arm around his shoulder. No, he didn’t want to leave Ghost’s smile! It was gone, and Jet was left shaking and sobbing on Doctor D’s couch, sweat pouring down his back like he had been standing outside in the sun all day. He looked around and took in his surroundings. It was Show Pony’s arm around his shoulder, and they had gently turned the radio off because it was quiet again. Doctor D was not far away, observing as he always does. Pony dabbed at his forehead sweat with an old rag. Jet tried to speak but no words came out. Pony just nodded, understanding without a word.

#whoops gave myself feels #my writings

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