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misspearly1 · 2 years

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Be My Redemption

Chapter v

Paring: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Words: 2,970 (there was a lot more but I cut it down to keep it short 😳)

Warnings: NO MINORS 🔞 18+ Content.

SMUT very light! No PIV... yet 😏. Rubbing on genitalia outside clothing count as smut?

Notes: ahhh omg I stressed over this one but ultimately I’m glad with how I ended this chapter! Also would like to note to my readers I see you liking and/or reblogging my stuff, I massively appreciate it! Thank you 😘 and hope you enjoy this chapter.

Joel -blue

Reader - pink

A strong and bitter smell entered Joels nostrils as he blinked his eyes open, inhaling deeper to take it in, he smelt more of the roasted flavours entering. His brain flashed memories behind his eyes at the scent. There was the usual roast he’d have in the morning and even the shitty blend that his workplace provided in those little foam cups or there is that one time he tried a cinnamon hazelnut combination once, when on a date with a pretty girl. Sitting up now, he recognises the smell all too much, that smell was coffee and he had to have some.

Following the direction of his senses, he exited the tent and is shot with the sight of you, standing beside the fire, hands shaking slightly to make sure you don’t burn yourself as you’re pouring out a steamy, brown liquid into a metal cup. Walking up to you now to find out if what he smells, is in fact too good to be true “is that what I think it is?”

The sound of Joel’s footsteps is barely heard as you carefully handle the boiling liquid, shocking yourself as the sound of his voice enters your ears with a question. “Yes, it is what you think Joel. But don't go getting yer hopes up. I don’t have a clue how to do this without my Betty.” Standing right beside you now the smell is more pungent, he’s almost too fearful to speak, in case he wakes up and this is all a dream. “You’re Betty?” you snicker at his second question of the morning, smiling at the thought of his confusion of who the hell Betty is.

“Betty was this old coffee machine I had; my grandpa gave it to me when I moved into my first home. I don’t know why he called it that, cause’ it didn’t have a brand on it. However, he did used to get his beloved beans from his, ‘dainty and beautiful’ neighbour Elizabeth, I think that’s how he came up with it” Joel sees the adoration in your eyes as you tell the story, a little snippet of your former life and only nods his head. He then suggests to help, holding out his hands in front of him “may I?”

“I honestly thought you never ask. Please, by all means, show me how it’s done.” stepping back now, you let him take over and watch attentively as he strains the grounded coffee properly, he looks like he’s done this a million times in his sleep and the sight of it amazes you.

It's just coffee y/n, calm down.

“See now, the trick is delicacy. You done a good job at breaking down the beans to fine grains but straining it can be very difficult. You gotta do it just right, otherwise it can be too bitter or just brown tasteless water... Here, try this” through his explanation he finishes pouring and hands you a cup. Bringing it to your nose first to smell before taking a light sip, when the hot coffee hits your tongue, instantly your eyes close at the sensation. Euphoric and flavoursome. “Wow...” *Takes another sip* “This. This is coffee, Joel.”

“Um hm” humming into his own cup as he agrees, you both stay silent as you drink your way through your morning cups of joe, your eyes drift to the man unconsciously as he practically devours his own. The liquid leaving a wet trail over his lips, a single drop had clung to the corner of his mouth before rolling down his beard as you watched his adam’s apple bobbing with his last gulp, setting the cup down and exhaling, ahhh.

“You... uh, you got a little something there.” you pointed out to the coffee stain on his face before lifting your own cup, hiding your grin behind it and finishing off the dregs. After wiping his face, he then lifts up his left hand, pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to look at his watch. The action makes you wonder at what point will he depart and go his own way, leaving you to find your friends on your own.

The silent agreement was to help each other out of the city, no mention of him joining you. So, you shouldn’t expect him to stay, shouldn’t expect him to help you further or shouldn’t expect him to feel the same way you do. Part of you hopes he will be straight and honest, to just decide for you, instead of leaving the feeling of uncertainty hanging above our heads.

“it's 6:05am, If we pack up and leave now, you will be at Mount Vernon by the afternoon, shouldn’t take you much longer to get to the campus from there” there it was, the ‘you’ will be at Mount Vernon and not ‘we’. You drop your head and nod to him but he continues “Ill join you till I can find a working car or at least figure out where the hell it is that I'm heading.” Lifting your head now, you find his eyes and hold back the smile that’s pulling ever so hard on your muscles, but you hold back and say “Okay, that sounds fair.”

Nothing else was added to that as you both made your way out of the triage, you both walked in silence, again, as you made your way to Mount Vernon. Unknowing to you, Joel had his own questions keeping him from sleep last night, asking himself whether or not he should join you, after a while contemplating it, sleep finally came to him and he figured he’d have his answer by morning. But when a painful dream about Sarah reminded him once again how letting people get close can hurt him, he held off on his choice for now. Even then, after sharing a coffee with you, hearing your story about your grandpa and also seeing you sad just moments ago, he held off on his choice for now.

It was around about noon when you entered the heart of Mount Vernon, standing in the desolate, lonely and grassy streets that was littered with cars – thankfully none that worked – over turned busses and many abandoned stores. Suggesting to Joel that the MV Police Department is a worthwhile place to take a break and maybe even find something useful inside, doubtful, but your optimism outgrew the scepticism in this particular moment.

He agreed nonetheless and this is where you are now, inside the basement of the building, doing a quick essential sweep to make sure it's safe before having some food, a drink and to take another look at the map. The one you found in a truck that Joel was checking over to see if it met the needs for travel. It didn’t, thankfully. He continued on with you and here you are, flabbergasted at the sight before you, during your sweep of the police department, it was a genny.

Racing to the generator you immediately found the pull string, yanked on it and then scratched your head when there was no sound at all. “Fuck, it’s probably got no juice, there’s got to be some around here somewhere.” as you make your way back to the main floor of the building, you’re met with Joel standing beside the front desk waiting for you, and lo and behold a cannister held in his hand. “Hey, I found this beside a dead guy with a note stating ‘use it wisely’ whatever that means, figured I'd keep it in case I find a working car.”

“Joel, this is a blessing! I found a genny in the basement.” spaced out at your point he asks “and? What about it.” you step close to him now placing a hand on his shoulder and turn him to a set of doors located in the back right corner of the room “You see that there, what does that say? Locker room. I’m betting there is showers in there.” still not seeing the point you're making you convey further sarcastically “Genny makes electricity, electricity makes water hot, hot water equals hot shower, hot shower equals a very happy Y/N and a not so stinky Joel. Yay, thank you Y/N!”

Seemingly unbothered by your tone he finally speaks out “I don’t know if that’s a good idea” oh my lord this man is complicated. “Joel, when was the last time you had a shower? Hm? C’mon, it’s a luxury in this world to take a piss let alone take a shower, I'll take first watch while you have a splash, whadd’ya say?” His point wasn’t deterred, snatching the cannister from his hands and taking off running was the only way to get him to relent.

Ten minutes later after an earful from Joel, a couple of failed attempts from yourself at pulling on the cord and pleading with the man to do it himself, the generator was up and running. Now you were hastily making your way back up the stairs to check out the locker room, praying that there were indeed showers inside. Pushing the door open, the anxiety melted away from your body as you dashed through, ignoring the warnings from Joel to wait, you ran to the first stall and twisted the nob and stepped back. After a couple seconds of cold water, the pipes rattled and groaned then finally it stopped and hot water sprayed out creating a steamy atmosphere.

You twirled, jumping up and down on the spot squealing to Joel, the sight of it causing him to drop his head into his hands and hide the smile at your child like reaction to hot water, like a cave man discovering fire for the first time. When you stopped, you asked if he’d like to go first and he refused, making your brows scrunch but then he quickly added “after, I'll take first watch. You seem more excited for this than I am anyways.” you didn’t complain, in fact you hurled your backpack off your shoulder and made a point to shoo him back out the door, grinning widely as you thanked him.

Joel stopped himself from booting his way through the door when he heard you scream, seconds later he heard you cry out “I found soap! OMFG! Someone is looking down on us today, Joel. Happiest. Day. Of. My. Life.” Concealed behind the door, Joel beams at your delight, at your buzzing ramblings about the experience of a shower after so long. Inside you watched as the water cascaded down your body and the streaky lines of dirt going with it, pooling at your feet before swirling away down the drain.

Grabbing the soap, you ran it up and down your body, violently, impatiently getting off the grime situated in every nook and crevice. Then rolling it around your hand a couple times to bubble it up before gently lathering your face, stepping under the shower to feel the heat run down your head and your back. Swiping the inside your ears, in between the toes, under the finger nails and finally finishing off with cleaning your private area with just water, you step out and begin to dry.

After a couple moments, you exit and meet Joel who is still where you left him, sitting atop an unknown detective's desk and you smiled “Your turn. Left the soap on the dish inside” Switching positions with him, you sat down and watched as he entered the room, turn and place a hand on the handle. Giving him one last smile with a thumbs up before he shut the door, you could hear the shuffling from inside and you didn’t miss the sound if his zipper being pulled down and definitely didn’t miss how that made you blush either, the thought of him naked entered your mind and you quickly denounced it.

The man’s probably taking his first shower in months, maybe longer Y/N. Jeez, stop it with your vulgar thoughts – thinking to yourself inwardly

Then you stiffened, shocked to a standstill while running fingers through your hair when you heard him groan, deep and gruff over the sounds of running water. Pupils blown wide as you told yourself you didn’t feel a palpable pulse within your heat when you then heard him muttering “oh fuck” under the spray. Shaking your head, you scolded yourself at turning such a normal thing into something sexual but you couldn't help wonder if he did the same with you. As you remembered your own sounds you made, blushing at thinking it may have turned him on when you moaned, innocently, at the feeling of the water hitting your skin.

Another grumble bellowed out in the midst of your musings; this one was different though, it was growly and low, like a dog snarling and it didn’t come from Joel. It came from behind you. Turning round ever so slowly, your eyes lock onto the source, it was a Bloater. A large, fat, mushroom like covered beast swaying on the spot staring right at you, it screeched inwards deeply before barking out a roar, then leaning back and producing something from its mouth and launching it to your direction, erupting upon landing and creating a momentary gas cloud. “BLOATER” you called out while running out of the cloud, hand over your mouth so you don’t breathe in the spores. “JOEL! BLOATER”

As you ran towards the other side of the room, jumping over tables and desks the Bloater followed, you yelled out again “Joel, it threw a spore at the door, be careful.” you barely heard him say ‘alright’ over the monsters grunting yowl as it stumbled towards you and picking up momentum. You let it get as close as possible before diving to the right, out of the way letting it tumble over. Standing quickly, you chanced a look behind you “Joel, its dispersing, get out here and help me!”

Swinging the door open he barrelled out, holding his shirt over his face with a gun in his hand and stalled when he saw the sight before him. The Bloater was already on its feet and charging towards his direction, he raised his gun and let loose on the trigger.

*pop* *pop* *pop* *pop*

Only able to fire off four shots, he too, dived out of the way at the last second but the beast didn’t slow down and was a hairline too close to grabbing Joel. You had a moment during the manoeuvre to grab the last two cocktails from your bag, lighting the rag and then throwing one at the belly of the infected creature. It tossed and turned as the fire covered its body, you ran up towards a desk and yelled for Joel to help, seeing your plan of action he wasted no time in joining you. The Bloater had squirmed his way in front of a window and together you and Joel pushed the table hard, scraping along the floor it gave the necessary nudge needed to push it against the window, shattering it instantly and it fell out the ledge onto the street.

After reloading his gun, Joel shot it another two times in the head, this time more accurately given the proximity and its wallowing stopped. “Joel I -” he stopped you in your tracks, holding a hand out to you and then turned to face you, he shook his head as he throws his shirt over his shoulder “I knew this was a bad idea”

You stared at him wide eyed, “I didn’t plan for this to happen, Joel” emotions are soaring through your veins, one of them that is standing out from the rest is frustration. His eyes are tearing into your soul. “But you prepare for it! You expect the unexpected” he steps closer to you during his rant and you step back with him.

When he breezes past you, smacking your ass hard eliciting a yelp to escape your lips, you turn to protest as he enters the locker room but when he turns swiftly, pointing a finger in the air you’re stopped by him “always expect the unexpected Y/N,” He winks before he then shuts the door to resume his shower.

Dumbstruck by the encounter you’re speechless to say anything else, even five minutes later when he exits the shower, you’re still at a loss for words. Leaving MV Police Department with him, you couldn’t think on what to say, feeling his handprint burned onto your ass now fading away is all you could think about and how you want to feel it again. So, walking in front of him now and fed up of the uncertainty, finally building enough courage to do something about it, about his teasing-asshole like-flirting remarks, about leaving you on edge all the time, questioning whether he indeed feels the same way or not, you take the opportunity to inflict the same treatment on him, to tease him.

Halting your walk and turning to face him, you place your hand on his chest then push him backwards to the hood of a car and finally smash your lips against his. He groans deeply into the kiss when you slip your tongue inside, swirling it around with his own. When his hands find purchase on your hips, you grab a hold of them, slamming them on the hood, to then start rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his clothes, which makes him gasp. As the kiss gets rougher and he grows even harder you stop your actions all together and step back, smirking widely at him, upon seeing his face contort in question as he readjusts himself in his pants, you say -

“Did you expect that, Joel?”

Chapter 6

@kirsteng42 😘

#joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #tlou #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑#pearlyfics #enjoyreaders #😏😏😏

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 4]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there’s no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Have I mentioned how much I love you lot? Because it's true! I do! 💖 Here is chapter 4 in all 'er glory. Feedback/ predictions/ and thoughts of any kind are always intensely appreciated of course! Stay well darlings 💞

w/c: 5k

Part 5

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Hello, my darling, my dear!" A familiar lilt floated past the door of your rented flat. Gwilym's mother was here.

You weren't entirely surprised to see her, she usually found some excuse to visit her son on whatever film set he used to occupy his time through the years. But she was terrible at surprises, and always let you know when she was planning on popping round. So why hadn't you heard from Mrs. Lee till now?

Before you had time to ask or even greet her properly, her arms were wrapped around your shoulders like a vice. Gwil's mother had always loved you- the first night you met, she assigned you a designated spot at the family dinner table. She never questioned your situation with her son. She always went out of her way to invite you to holiday parties and spontaneous family gatherings. And the times you had to miss out for one reason or another, and Gwil still brought Olive along, he'd bring her back to you with a message from his mother; how she'd missed you.

"What are you doing here?" You laughed into the woman's hair. Before Mrs. Lee answered, as you pulled away from the embrace, you noticed the look on Gwilym's face. You could tell there was something he'd been waiting longer than a couple of minutes to say.

"I invited her to stay for the weekend." Gwil grinned, sauntering closer to greet his mother with warm grandeur. To both of you, Gwil's mother's presence in the Airbnb was like a breath of fresh air. Olive was perhaps the most pleased of all, clamoring with laughter toward Mrs. Lee. She scooped up your daughter in a big hug and went on explaining her surprise visit...

"There's a show here in the city on Monday. I'm meeting some coworkers there, we've been planning for months! Anyway, I called Gwil to ask him to lunch and he doubled the offer! I'll be glad to watch Olive for a night, but before you leave we have to catch up."

"Leave? Where are we going?" You turned to Gwil as everyone settled further into the room. He seemed to already be waiting to tell you what he'd had up his sleeve.

"Lucy planned a party, tomorrow night. Rented a place to stay and everything."

"Oh...oh no-" You'd nearly forgotten. It was Joe's birthday.

"And I knew you'd try and get out of it. So, mum will stay here with Olive and when we get back on Sunday I'll blow my paycheck on taking her to a big fancy dinner as thanks." Gwil looked to his mother as she eased onto the sofa with a smile and a shrug, unopposed to being pampered.

"Gwilym!" You worried, trying to contain your panic but make yourself clear all the same. "I don't think I should go." You implored.

"It would be stranger if you didn't, don't you think?" Gwilym looked to you with a raised brow, his firm voice stirring the worry in your gut.

"Why are you two so on edge?" Mrs. Lee piped up from the sofa, where she sat unbothered by Olive yanking at the necklaces layered across her chest.

Neither of you could lie to her. So you and Gwil heaved a matching sigh and spun to sit on opposite sides of the room. And just like when James demanded to know what was up, Gwil took initiative in telling the story you'd been engulfed in for a while now- sparing a few details about arguments and longing gazes. His mother listened, showing little to no favor for which side she might have been on; hardly giving a single sign this situation shocked the woman to any degree.

"So, tomorrow is Joe's birthday. And we'll spend all night together in the thick of it." Gwilym rose a hand your way, almost like he was asking you what to do next. But he'd already planned everything out, hadn't he?

"Well," Gwilym's mother straightened. "That's the best time to work things out, without Olive around. Surely you can sit your friends down and explain things like adults, right?" She pointed a look to Gwil, one you imagined sent a chill down his spine as a boy, and maybe even still now.

"Right." He looked from her to you. And you knew he wasn't done scheming. You knew you were stuck between the promise you made to Lucy to be prepared to party, and whatever Gwil was up to now.

///

"Mama?" Olive grabbed the hem of your shirt in her fists as you flung your purse over your shoulder. Somehow, it sucked even harder every new time you had to leave her behind. She'd mastered the art of puppy dog eyes, her tears pooling, her lip quivering.

You promised her that you'd be back before she knew it. That she was in safe, fun-loving hands. But when the girl looked to Gwil who was toting your overnight bag to the front door, she was done for. Not even his excitable transaction of Olive's beloved one red-eyed bat stopped her tears.

And even though it felt impossible to walk out the door to the sound of her pleading cries, you knew she'd be okay. You wondered of your fate, though.

You left the rented car at the flat for Mrs. Lee, whose stories over homemade dinner and chatter over morning coffee lifted your spirits tenfold. Her excitement for spending a little more time doing just the same when you got back would likely keep you from drowning in your own worried thoughts. Off you went, all the while...

Lucy had rented some cottage in the hills. Apparently, she'd overheard Joe muttering about wanting to spend some time in the countryside before the production came to an end. The usual lot of you were invited to come ready to spend a night of fun, a night to celebrate Joe. He deserved that and more. But you certainly weren't worthy or prepared to join in such a celebration.

While your uber headed out of the city, you and Gwilym talked about how hard it was to leave Olive, how you couldn't wait for her to be a little older, easier to sneak in on the action. How you wished she'd stay small all the same. How Gwil stayed with you and your roommates the first week you brought Olive home, and how he hated to leave by the end of then. About the first day you left her with Gwilym when you went back to work, and how it seemed so easy because you knew how happy Gwilym was and that everything was fine.

As the forests of trees grew denser along the roadside, the ride became coated in a silence you mistook for shared reminiscence. But then Gwilym spoke up with a question you hadn't expected.

"If... if I hadn't roped you into being 'Mrs. Lee'..." He hesitated, almost afraid to ask. You, afraid to wonder.

"If I wasn't around when you met Joe..."

"If you weren't around, I wouldn't have met any of your lovely friends, honey." You gave your fake husband's hand a squeeze hoping he would take a hint.

By then, the uber was creeping up a gravel path to a cottage in the midst of pines and maples. The dull blue sky framed the quaint old home made up of worn brick and curtain shielded windows. Near the tri-colored brick chimney, Ben was stood smoking. His eyes (even from your view behind the tinted car window) somehow greener than the leaves that threatened to envelop your shelter for the evening.

Your conversation with Gwilym was officially cast aside, but you didn't miss his somber smile. The fact he felt for you muted the ache of adoration you felt for Joe at the mention of his name. You shook all those thoughts away on your clamor to solid ground.

Ben greeted the pair of you cheerily and led the way inside. No one else had made it yet. Ben said you and Gwilym were lucky to be early enough to choose the best room in the house. There were enough for everyone, around tight paint chipped corners. If you had to be locked in with everyone for an evening, at least it got to be in such a charming little space.

You and Gwil wordlessly abandoned your things on a small quilt covered bed and went to find Ben in the kitchen, proudly setting out all the liquor he managed to bring along. Rami and Lucy were in charge of bringing Joe, and a boatload of snacks. Gwilym must have been in charge of bringing you.

You knew it was important not to let a single crack split between your bond tonight, with no baby to hide behind. It wasn't hard to seem content, settling into a big comfy sofa as there three of you waited around. Beams of grey sun shot through the massive windows on the doors that lead outback. As you lost yourself to admiring the space, the others burst in.

Rami and Lucy carried a comical amount of bags in after Joe who was clearly ready to party. You couldn't help but laugh, out of all the ways he could have celebrated, he was delighted to stick himself in the middle of nowhere with the same group of people he was always stuck with anyway.

And just like that, you were all back together again like you'd been forever, like an afterschool special. It was easy to mix yourself in, just as easy as it might have been to stay in a far off corner. No one could focus on one thing long while they scattered off to explore the floor plan. After everyone had their share of admiring the nooks and crannies of the home, the fun began.

In the garden past the rickety steps of the porch, there was a tattered net already set up. Near the shed, Gwilym found a trunk full of dirty old sporting goods, and a tarnished blue volleyball was the only thing sturdy enough to play with. You teamed up and went wild like kids, like you all had at the play place outside Ben's favorite cafe. Except now you all relied on each other to play the same honest game.

Morale drifted from teasing banter to grunting curses as your scores were tied. You spiked the ball and won the first game. Celebration hardly lasted as chatter of a second round was on the rise. But when Lucy trodded of to catch her breath, you quickly decided to join her, riding your winning high.

She motioned you inside, making a b-line for the kitchen while the sun turned the world golden. Lucy appointed you to help her start making dinner as the boys continued playing volleyball to the death.

As their shouting at each other rattled the kitchen windows, Lucy unveiled ingredients for a homemade pizza. She'd heard Joe craving it the week before, and tonight was all about him.

"You're good at this." You pointed out, helping her set out ingredients along the counter space that wasn't crowded with booze.

"What?" Lucy laughed, cheeks still flushed from running around out back. Hair still windblown. Still so flawless. And kind, to top it off.

"Going out of your way to make people feel like they belong." You made clear. When you met, she'd gifted you the perfect handbag. Now she planned out Joe's birthday evening like her own, plotting for things he brought up in passing- things he probably hadn't realized anyone might have heard at all.

"I guess it's my love language or whatever." Lucy shrugged, moving about the kitchen. "My uncle married a hopelessly out of touch woman when I was thirteen. She heard I liked to read. So, for every holiday or birthday, this woman would alway buy me those dreadful penny novels from the market. The kind that are basically porn about pirates and vampires," Lucy laughed, and you did too. Those novels were definitely guilty pleasures. Who would think to gift them? Let alone to a teenaged girl who was probably just as wise beyond her years back then, too.

"I vowed to be a better gift-giver. But... I did always read those books." Lucy snorted a laugh. As you helped chop veggies and mix spices, she told you all the horrifically cheesy one liners from the novels she never wanted.

Soon your laughter drowned out the boys shouts from outside, and Ben rushed to join the party. He cranked music and danced around the kitchen while you prepared dinner, mixing drinks to test out the bevy of alcohol he’d purchased.

Rami joined in, while Joe and Gwil shared some kind of chat in the living room. You could see them past the wave of Rami's hand as he told a story. And no matter what they might have been talking about, the way Joe and Gwil kept stealing glances in your direction made your nerves stand on end. Luckily, you had enough vodka to stir up a different, much more manageable buzz.

It was picture-perfect organized chaos. You felt like you had back when you moved in with James and Andy, when they would throw parties just to celebrate random Saturdays. Back when you only knew Gwilym as the guy from down the road with a nice house and a pretty face. He still had those things, but now there was so much more that made up the tall man you willingly wrote your future off too. You missed Olive. But you knew she was happy and safe, and so were you. You took another shot to prove so.

"Come now." Lucy wheezed, a glass of wine and three shots of whiskey deep. She was still quoting the best of the worst lines she could remember from all those horrible romance novels she'd been gifted. "You're fighting your feelings for this man with all the strength of the Confederate Army."

"I'm sorry, what?" Joe gasped a laugh as he passed by, freezing in place. You and Lucy laughed too hard to explain why on earth she'd just said that. And when she caught her breath, Lucy only quoted something else,

"He tore open her blouse like a Publisher’s Clearing House letter."

"That's not real." You pointed, the ache in your gut finally from laughing too hard.

"Whatever you two are having, I'd like some." Joe decided, reaching past you to grab the bottle at your side. His arm brushing against your waist would have been enough to send you into a total blackout, but he just had to look right at you, too. As Joe grabbed the liquor and Lucy kept laughing, you noted that time seemed to stop; even on your second glass of rum. All because Joe dared to look right at you, like he so often did, like no one else ever had before.

Another drink, you decided. It had worked so far, and everyone else was on the quick path to getting wasted before dinner was finished cooking. Luckily, the smell of fresh sauce alerted everyone to gather around and conduct themselves to share a meal together.

The homemade pizza was better than you expected, and your hopes had grown very high as you helped make it. Everyone was in agreeance, scattered about the living room, paper plates in their laps, music still blasting from Ben's phone somewhere in the kitchen. But no one was happier than Joe. He raved over Lucy's thoughtfulness, and over the very tasty dinner that resulted. Rami poured everyone another drink as Ben insisted it was time for Joe to open his presents.

You all raced to collect the gifts you brought and made a very big deal out of making Joe take his time unveiling each. What more did you have to do than make an event out of every last minute together? To make sure Joe realized just how dearly he was cared for?

Ben had gotten Joe tickets to a rugby game, and some of his favorite English chocolates- Joe broke off pieces to share with every one of you. Lucy and Rami gave him an expensive-looking box of tea, alongside a clay mug decorated with stamps of delicate-looking dinosaurs.

Gwil got him a portable record player and said it was from the both of you. Gwil had taken notice that Joe was buying a bunch of vinyl on days off, and leaving the discs to collect in his suitcase for when he got back to New York. But he wouldn't be going home for a while still, so it seemed fitting to offer Joe a way to fill his drab Airbnb with some music until then. The auburn-haired lad lit up, and gave a heartfelt thanks to his extremely generous friends, insisting that an allnighter in this comfortable cottage was already more than enough.

"Oh wait, there's one last thing." You gave Gwil a sly smirk as you stood to pass a sealed envelope to Joe. Everyone leaned in close while Joe curiously unveiled a powder blue card with the words happy birthday simply scrawled on the front. It was blank inside, besides the harsh scribbles of crayon that Olive spent a long time jabbing into the paper. The 'drawing' was meant to be her birthday wish. You and Gwil singed your names at the bottom in pen, but you wrote Olive's name in the same pink crayon to match her efforts. You missed her.

"That is the cutest shit I've ever fucking seen." Ben cursed. It was your idea. Joe looked like he wanted to cry, but he only cracked up laughing for a very charming moment. Then he hugged you and Gwilym at the same time, repeating his thanks over and over again.

///

The drinks kept coming as night fell. You got tired of mixing your vodka and just went for it, because it really did kind of taste like blueberries. You all took turns in the only bathroom with a shower and eventually, Rami had roped everyone into some kind of drunk history type storytelling session.

Ben took a turn, jumping to his feet, anxious to tell the story of Frankenstein. The only problem being that he was hammered, and his efforts in recounting the details were hazy. So he started over from the beginning...

"Okay, pay attention everybody. Now," Ben slurred, spinning in the middle of the room to face where you sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Gwilym.

"So like, you and Gwil are Mary and Percy." Ben pointed. Gwilym looked your way as if he'd just realized you were on the other side of the couch. "And uh, Joe can be Byron! Everyone wants to sleep with him... I think," Ben decided, hazily looking back to you. "Okay so just pretend you really want to for the sake of this story. It's very important-"

"Why can't Lucy and Rami be the Shelleys?" You blurted out in wonder, uncomfortable with this drunken imaginary scenario. Gwil rolled his eyes and reached for his drink.

"Because you're the married lot," Ben pointed. Gwilym honest to God nearly choked on his liquor.

"Oh yeah. Hey, why don't you guys wear rings?" Rami pipped up from across the way, gesturing between you and Gwil.

"You don't wanna know the answer to that." Gwil chuckled. Three shots of vodka and four glasses of rum were no excuse to be so flippant. You shot the guy a glare, hardly caring if anyone else saw the warning in your eye so long as Gwilym did.

"Moving on, who will you be, Ben?" Gwyilm conducted everyone's attention to the man in the middle of the room. Ben propped one foot on the coffee table, swaying in place as he declared,

"I'm the bloody doctor!"

As the blonde stumbled through his story, Lucy passed out in Rami's arms. Joe seemed to be the only one laughing along with Ben, as his narrative progressed. Every time Ben pointed to you and Gwil, the tension between the pair of you boiled dangerous fiercer. Warning looks meant to keep each other quite turned into something darker, glares more bittered than pitying.

When Ben lost his place long enough for silence to fall over the lot of you, Rami carried Lucy down the hall, shouting pleasant goodnights to the rest of the gang. You decided it was a sign, and stood to call it a night as well. Ben moved slowly to collect empty bottles while Joe started to collect his thoughtful gifts.

"I hope you've had a happy birthday, mate." Ben smiled to Joe before the blonde moved to help Gwil pick up a few of the discarded plates and cups. Joe was gathering his mess of presents, stalling to admire the card you thought to give him.

"Thank you for this." Joe grinned in your direction, scanning the card again, and opening it to examine the scribbles of crayon meant to be Olive's well wishes. The man with fossils for eyes beamed like a fool and you couldn't help but do the same; moving by his side to glance over the scratched greeting from your daughter, to Joe.

"You guys made one cute kid," Ben spoke up across the room. You blinked up, catching Gwilym's nod of appreciation toward Ben. "Do you think you'll ever have any more?" He wondered, casually.

You gave an automatic, tipsy shrug, not opposed to the idea, just not with Gwil of course. But they didn't need to know that.

"No, actually." Gwil glared at you, like he was upset you weren’t playing along or keeping a low enough profile. Like he hadn't been just as dangerously close to giving yourselves away.

"Are you guys alright?" Ben timidly wondered after a beat. Gwil just clenched his jaw shut and spun around toward the kitchen to finish cleaning up. You didn't know the answer to Ben's question, either.

So you hurried after Gwilym, your vision blurred, but your intention clear as day. You found him throwing his rubbish out with a sigh.

"Why are you acting like this?" You hissed, stepping close so no one else could hear.

"Blame it on the rum, dear." Gwilym shrugged but shot you a look that let you know he knew exactly what he was doing. He turned further into the room as you shot back,

"Drunk isn't a synonym for stupid. You should know to keep your mouth shut, you're the one who started this."

"Then shouldn't I end it?"

"It will never end!" You'd always be trading school pick-ups and planning birthday parties together. You knew Gwilym knew that.

"But this has to end. You won't tell, and you won't let me tell, so we're gonna break up the old fashioned way, got it?"

"What are you talking about?" You wondered, exhausted.

"I don't want to be married to you anymore! If I had a ring I would throw it on the ground." He spoke, loud and clear enough to get you to see a little straighter.

"Gwilym, what the fuck?" You let out a stunned laugh. You knew what he must have meant, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eye hit you right where it hurt most. You weren't married, but you might as well have been. Gwilym agreed with that sentiment through laughter most of the time. Because he was your friend. But it suddenly seemed like he didn't want to be anything at all, with you.

The thick silence was back when Joe sauntered into the kitchen like he might have been breaking the rules. You couldn't be sure if he'd heard or not, but when you turned away from Gwilym's glare, you saw Joe stood looking at you like his heart was broken.

You made yourself turn from his troubled gaze, turning out of the kitchen.

Gwilym was reluctantly hot on your trail, offering a hurried goodnight to his friend before meeting where you'd run off to. The bedroom was suffocatingly small, when Gwilym shut the both of you in, it felt like the walls were closing in.

"I get that this is fucked. We're fucked. But no one was around to hear that, Gwil. We've always been on the same team."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just..." Gwil deflated as you floated onto the side of the little bed in the corner.

"Just what?" You worried, bracing for impact, preparing for this night to end on the sour note that rang in your ears now.

"I thought by shutting you out... pushing you away, that... God, it sounds dumb to say out loud. I'm just sick of watching you pretend. You deserve so much better, y/n." Gwilym explained, heavy eyes screwing shut in frustration.

"Well don't fucking do that! You're all I've got." You plead in a sorry whimper. You knew that Gwilym was drunk. And you knew he felt bad for what he said and was trying to make it better, now, by hanging his head before you.

Why did this keep happening? There wasn't anything to say anymore, was there? How about the truth, for a change?

"I think I must love him." You gave a sad little shrug, eyes fixed on the wall ahead of you. "And I'm really afraid that it won't matter if we 'break up' or not."

Gwil made his way to where you sat, slumping to join your side. He wrapped a sorry arm around your shoulder and you leaned in. There was a dangerous rumble of tears bubbling far below your surface, distant enough to curse away.

"We should get some sleep." Gwilym gently moved you to lay back till your head hit the pillow. You watched on as he relaxed at your side without a second thought. Hardly a courtesy, just a routine. It brought you a faint glow of comfort either way.

"Thanks, Gwil." You hoped he registered your tone, and all the things you were grateful for in the moment. You laid in silence as Gwil drifted off at your side. Even if you wanted to close your eyes you couldn't, not with the way your mind raced.

"I'll always be here for you, ya know?" Gwilym mumbled from his sleepy state, eye closed. "I'm sorry for what I said."

You hummed after a beat, watching him sleep. Still, you just kept staring up at the ceiling while your fake husband drifted off at your side. Try as you might, you couldn't keep your eyes shut.

Once the patterns on the wall stopped spinning, you made a very quiet escape, padding out into the hall as softly as you could.

The cottage was dark and quiet, save for the fire still flickering in the chimney from the living room. You were drawn to it like a moth, but you stalled in the shadows at the edge of the light cast among the furniture. Someone else was up. Actually, it looked like Joe had never gone to bed.

"Couldn't sleep?" Joe asked quietly, noting your presence. He was standing near the large fog-covered picture windows, slowly shuffling toward the middle of the room. Your feet moved in the same direction, as you shrugged in indecision.

"What about you?" You wondered, meeting Joe in the middle of the living area. He looked at you for a beat before easing to the floor, where he crossed his legs and leaned against the sofa behind him.

"My parents called. I miss them." Joe admitted softly. You decided to sit next to him, but not too close. You brought your knees to your chest and admired how Joe's profile looked illuminated by flickering firelight. You hummed in understanding, and Joe took that as the sign to say more. He started talking about New York and his tenth birthday- one he spent in the mountains of the desert. He was disappointed to find out it was still chilly there, this time of year. Then he asked you why you were still awake- like he knew there was more to the story.

And too much time passed while you wracked your brain for an excuse that didn't point in the direction of the truth. Why was it so easy to be with Gwilym, but so hard to act like you wanted to be? Joe lowered his eyes and after a while of quiet, he spoke up again...

"I wish we met differently."

"I don't. You didn't say anything wrong, then." You snapped a little too quickly. He couldn't possibly take that moment away from you. It was all you had. And even though you should have known better than to allude to that fact that you clung to Joe’s fist words to you, it was probably obvious you did, anyway.

"I wouldn't change what I said." Joe pointed quietly, yet assured. It was as if the flames flickering before you jumped into your belly when Joe's eyes locked onto yours, again. Holy shit pull it together. You knew if you didn't leave the room very soon that you would make a royal fool of yourself.

"Happy birthday. I should head back." You sighed reluctantly, stretching your legs in front of you, wishing Joe might stop you from going. And then he did speak up again, but he didn't say what you wanted to hear...

"Sweet dreams, Mrs. Lee."

"Please don't call me that." You replied without thinking. Because you were still a little buzzed. Because you couldn't think around Joe anyway. You registered his slowly twisting expression as if he was wondering why you seemed so upset. As if, maybe, he knew...

"It's far too proper. We're friends right?" You lamented in a pathetic hurry, feeling a pit open in your chest all the while. Joe focused on you, and you knew he could tell you were grasping at straws. As you held your breath and Joe's gaze, you noticed a look in his eye, as if he were making a decision.

"Yeah... we're friends, y/n." Joe softly expressed. The leather sofa quietly crunched as Joe stood and turned toward the dark hallway.

"Goodnight." His voice sounded heavy, even as it floated away from you. You were left against the sofa with a broken heart and a killer headache.

///

The next afternoon, you watched Joe turn his head away from you on his way down the rickety porch steps, sullen. You tried to pass the moment off as a hurry, when you noticed Lucy and Rami practically jogging out of the place to catch the shared ride. Tomorrow was another early day on set. No more time to waste.

But then your heart was practically shattered when Joe offered you a pitiful one-armed hug and a flat generic farewell before disappearing in the back of an uber with his friends. Lucy and Rami both had time for a few parting sentiments. Joe hadn't even really looked at you all morning. He was even a little distant from Gwilym as they shared a brief goodbye.

Ben shared your uber back into London, and ten minutes into your hour-long commute, the sweet guy asked if you were feeling alright.

"Too much to drink." You passed off the easy excuse and couldn't help but rest your head on Gwilym's shoulder. You wanted comfort. You knew he would give it to you, no questions asked, just like always.

He'd woken up last night when you came back to the tiny bed feeling much worse than you had before leaving there. You didn't know it, but Gwilym heard Joe tell you goodnight before you came back into the room. Since then Gwil was aching to know what happened- if anything. Something had to have by the way he monitored Joe's rushed goodbyes today and your sulking. If Ben would just, put headphones in, or something...

But you were perfectly content leaning against Gwilym and letting your stare gloss over. You started to convince yourself things were supposed to be this way. You tried to focus on heading back to Olive and Gwil's mother, the fun you were likely to have with the kind woman while she was still in town. But then she'd leave, and you'd be back to simply convincing yourself, like now. Ben caught your sulking stare, and you caught him studying you. The blonde's gaze lingered on you as if he knew something was very wrong... as if he knew you were lying. But what about, this time?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil @sadhwstudent @freakibanana

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine

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bookgeekgrrl · 3 years

Text

Sunday reading recap (15-Nov-2020)

I got a new phone, which I love, but whew, it’s such a time sink to get everything set up and logged in. Even with a pretty robust data transfer.

THINGS I WATCHED

Clue

ATLA: S1, eps 13-14

THINGS I READ

Veterans Day 2006 (Nick & Carter Holiday #19) (Frank W. Butterfield)

💜 the pathless woods (Deisderium) - 84K, Stucky magical/fantasy AU featuring all of my absolute faves: Friends to Lovers, megafauna, Megaflora, Fake Marriage, Surprise Cryptids, There Was Only One Bed(roll), Tender Forest Blowjobs

👂 The Kill Society (Sandman Slim #9) by Richard Kadrey (author), MacLeod Andrews (narrator) - it was nice to get back to this series - the narrator is EXCELLENT and the story moves along apace so you are never bored. Our monstrous, weirdly likeable, sometimes-not-overly-bright, not-really-hero Stark gets swept up in a crusade in Hell led by a fallen angel. Very deliberately MMFResque.

💜 Barnes Blooms (bleuett) - 50K, Stucky canon-divergent; both Steve & Bucky are essentially the same as in canon except they don't meet until after Steve's unfrozen/Bucky's deprogrammed. Very fluffy, soft, domestic, but with a few action pieces. Mostly all fluff & domesticity. Plus a flower shop. I loved it!

Charged (cydonic) - 47K, Stucky AU - "It's a common mistake to make, thinking the beautiful man at your door is the new nanny for your twin girls and not an escort hired by your friend to keep you company for the night. Right?" - a lot of fun in this one

plus 211K of shorter fic so shorter work shout out 💜💜💜

Sugar Sweet, You'll be The End of me (Annerp) - 25K, shrinkyclinks - “Bucky Barnes breaks free from Hydra and begins the process of regaining his life. His mission is to bring Hydra to their knees and woo a certain blond haired blue eyed guy. In the process he learns that being Steve's sugar daddy is the dream job he never knew he wanted.”

between everything, yourself, and home (napricot) - 24K, stucky canon-divergent - GREAT recovery fic; punched in the heart by this paragraph: "HYDRA had tried to burn and bury all the parts that made Bucky Bucky, had used the vessel of Bucky’s body in service of pain and horror. To Steve, that vessel is precious not just because it’s beautiful, though it is that, and always has been. What that vessel holds is infinitely more precious to Steve. But Steve can’t gather up all those intangible things that make up the whole of Bucky to keep them safe and loved. He can only do this: offer some care to the beloved body that holds Bucky, and hope it’s enough to mend some of what’s still hurting in him."

breathless (we could be reckless) (liadan14) - 13K, TOG Kaysanova no-powers AU - Joe & Nicky meet on holiday and jump headlong into marriage - I’m really digging all these no-powers/academic AUs for this ship!

Artificial Anacondas (AidaRonan) - 1K, Four Seasons Total Landscaping AU - first-rate, quality crack! 😂

#sunday reading recap #bookgeekgrrl's reading habits #sandman slim series #the adventures of nick and carter #fanfic ftw #stucky forever #four seasons total landscaping #fan makers are a *gift*

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laughing-with-god · 5 years

Text

Pen Pal II

Words; 4.6k

“I love you so much that nothing could matter to me- not even you...only my love- not your answer. Not even your indifference.”

Reincarnation was an interesting theory, you decided.

It was a philosophy that held the utmost importance upon karma and charity. In a way, it made sense. If you did something good in a past life, you should be rewarded in the next one with good fortune. This mindset explained how some of us seem to have been born under the worst circumstances that was only added on by very odd and horrid luck that appeared in the form of people or situations. While others have the rare ability to just waltz past life without a single hitch to hinder their enjoyment.

You deduced that you must’ve been a very wicked person in the life prior to this one.

That could be a grand explanation for the awful series of events that have been striked upon you by an outside force whom is hell-bent on making you pay for crimes you weren’t aware you committed. ‘Yes’, you thought, ‘I must’ve been a devilish person in my past life.’

You were cursed to forever be terrified of the world, your only sibling meant to guide you through life was murdered in front of you, your mother has gone mad and the one person you found comfort in somehow found a way to be worse than what you already knew him to be- a criminal.

You bitterly chuckled.

You wished he was a good-for-nothing criminal.

You would have much preferred that over what he truly is.

A serial killer.

Tuesdays were the worst. In your rather short and uneventful life, a pattern had formed concerning the second day of the week. Your sister was murdered on a cloudy Tuesday afternoon. The day you were labelled with a disorder was on a Tuesday morning, right in your own home. The day your mother had finally broke and yelled atrocious things at you that you’ve always known she thought but never voiced, was on a Tuesday evening. And the day you discovered the jarring truth about your ‘pal’ was at 2 am while surfing the web on a Tuesday.

You were naive to be giddy at the latest letter you had received.

Jungkook had said some rather mean things about your mother, however due to your bruised ego and lingering depression caused by the woman’s harsh put down of you; you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset with his insults toward the woman who gave birth to you. In fact, your heart felt warmed at his protective slandering. For it meant that he was offended on your behalf, that he cared of what you felt and that anyone who disgraced you was harshly judged by the critical eye of your ‘friend’. He took your side in the matter. Like a loyal ally that you have always wanted on your side for times like this.

He mentioned that he wanted to utilize the option of calls instead of letters. You had to admit as an old soul that writing letters to a companion was a very vintage and refreshing practice that you had grown fond of. Childishly, you would picture yourself in a Fitzgerald novel as a lonesome and willowy woman who eagerly awaited the letters of her dear partner who was far far away. Or maybe off to war. You supposed that reading all those books had made you a romanticist.

But there was something rather intimate about getting to hear someone’s voice despite the miles in between them.

You wanted to please Jungkook by surprising him with a call. And more secretly, you wanted to see if his voice matched his face in the picture he gave you or the voice in your head that would recite his letters whenever you read them.

You imagined it being very gentle and almost musical, like the light buzz of bees on a Spring day, humming around the blooming flowers. You hoped (and somehow just knew) you were right in this prediction.

But, you needed to find a way to make this possible.

That’s when you seeked information in the form of the internet. Although you loved to picture yourself in a Fitzgerald-esque, roaring twenties type of era, you couldn’t deny the usefulness of the current one that you were living in.

According to the re-search you had gathered, a telephone account had to be set up in order for Jungkook to talk to anyone. Also, inmates were allowed to make outgoing calls but incoming ones were not allowed. You frowned, this meant that Jungkook had to call you but you couldn’t call him. The air of surprise was deflated.

However, you did have a role to fulfill. Only someone from the outside could set up the calling account. You would have to pay for the ability for Jungkook to call anyone.

You then went onto the prison’s website and began to fill out the form for the account.

Name: (Y/n) (M/n) (L/n)

Age: (Age)

D.o.b: (Date of Birth)

Address: (Address)

Relation to Inmate; Friend.

Card Info: (xxx-xxx-xxx)

Phone Number: (xxx-xxx-xxx)

Prisoner;

You were stunned at the prisoner section of the form. It wouldn’t allow you to write Jungkook’s name down, instead you had to enter numbers. You sighed and realized that you had to get Jungkook’s number in order for the system to match him up with the account. Luckily for you, the info of prisoners was public knowledge for anyone wishing to seek it. You opened another tab to go the the penitentiary’s website and searched for Jungkook’s name.

A mugshot of your friend popped up. his boyishly handsome face stared almost disinterestedly at the camera, dark and glassy eyes brooding with raven strands of hair revealing his smooth forehead and framing his sharp face that was marked with intense brows, strong Romanian nose and plush berry lips that sat above his cleft chin that marked the ending point of his angular jaw. The frosty complexion of his skin made the darkness of his features and orangeness of his jumpsuit stand out. You knew he was very good-looking, and it was a shame that he was locked up. You were sure many ladies would be all over him if it weren’t for the fact that he was stuck in an all male prison for a lengthy amount of time.

The top of his head met the 5’10 mark of the background of the mugshot, making you note the height of Jungkook which was a detail you never really thought about before. He was tall, but most handsome men were.

Below the image was information about him. You briefly felt as if you were violating privacy, but you consolidated yourself by reminding yourself that you simply needed his number to further the calling process. It had to be done. Besides, Jungkook was your friend. You were positive that he wouldn’t mind.

Name: Jeon Jungkook

Height: 5’10

Weight: 154 lb

Date of Arrest; June 6th, 2018

Crime: Serial Killing, Multiple Homicides, First Degree Murder, Crimes Against Humanity

ID Number: 65709-303

Your blood ran cold.

You would have made a decent journalist.

But to be fair, it wasn’t like his crimes wasn’t that well documented.

He was practically famous.

A warm cup of joe is all that you had to company you as you began your plunge into the crimes of Jeon Jungkook. It had required the use of many old news clips, dramatically written articles and even pictures of the vulgar crimes along with court documents and police reports. Amidst this crazed quest for knowledge that was fueled by a harsh sting of betrayal, a narrative formed from the foggy woodworks. The jagged puzzle pieces of your beloved ‘Jk’ formed, creating an image that you wished to never have witnessed.

On March 27th, 2016 an innocent woman was murdered. Her name was Lee Ji-eun and she was a music teacher at a prestigious private high school. She was found in her office, throat slit from ear to ear and body laying lifelessly across her desk, school papers stained scarlett red in her blood. The killing shocked the community, she was adored by her classmates, respected by colleagues and admired in her community. No one had a clue on who could’ve committed such a random act of violence.

On April 16th, 2017 a man called the police due to his missing wife and daughter. The daughter, Nayeon was found in a field out in the country, throat blue from having been strangled to death. Her mother was only a few yards away from her, bullet enlodged in the back of her head from being shot execution style. Nayeon’s father was desperate for justice, but the police had told him that the killer was just too good.

On April 1st, 2018 another girl named Lalisa was found in her room, dead. Unlike the other crimes, her murder wasn’t a dramatic or gory one. It had appeared that she was poisoned to death. Up until then, the police had no leads. It wasn’t until the realized that Lalisa’s boyfriend had been missing as well. He was caught getting in a suspicious vehicle on surveillance camera, only to never be seen again. A vehicle that was traced to Jungkook.

Jungkook admitted the murders of all three of these girls, along with Nayeon’s mother and Lalisa’s boyfriend. Although the boyfriend’s body was never found.

He did all of these crimes on Easter.

The first murder of Lee Ji-eun just so happened to fall on that day.

But like other serial killers before him, Jungkook formed a habit. A ritual. A routine.

You noted with distaste how little the motives were discussed.

Jungkook never told why he killed his victims. He was silent. Even in the interrogation process, he just admitted that he was indeed the killer. Nothing else was uttered from his lips. The trial was semi-famous, due to the fact that such a young and handsome man turned out to be a murderer. People even called him the new Ted Bundy for his aristocratic fall from grace that was the revelation of his sick minded actions. He came from a rich family, was somewhat quiet as a student but still earned high marks. Someone no one thought could be capable of taking five innocent lives in such a bloodthirsty fashion.

The Easter Bunny was what some struggling news station tried to nickname him in a frenzied act of getting higher viewership rates. Turns out, the name stuck.

You shut your laptop and stared off into space.

The five faces of the victims would forever be burned into your memory.

You just had one question, why?

Why take away these people’s lives as if it were nothing? What had they ever done to him? It was just so random and it puzzled you. Jungkook was a smart man, why did he never tell anyone the reasoning for his snap? Why did he let the press run with guessing motives and possible reasonings instead of putting the victim’s family at rest by telling them the truth? Did he plan to take it to his grave?

What could those five people have done to make him murder so ruthlessly?

You gulped down the last of your coffee that was somewhat chilled due to the long passage of time.

Remorse slid itself over you body, spreading its’ inky and sticky dread until every part of your body was effected.

You felt dirty.

You had unknowingly created a friendship with the slayer of five lives.

A psychopath had somehow became your closest buddy. You had seeked comfort within his sweet words.

Was this how he lured in his other victims as well?

A shudder came next.

He lied to you. If you had known all of this from the beginning, there would be no way that you would have tried to reach out to such person. You fancied yourself a empathic and understanding woman, but this was just something from hell itself.

You stood and decided to take a shower, hoping that scrubbing the invisible stains of guilt would somehow ease your racing mind.

It was a given that you would stop all communication with Jungkook.

You could never even attempt to play as if things were normal after this. As much as it pained you, you would have to lose a friend.

It would be rather simple, you will stop sending letters and he would catch onto the silence and move on with his own life. You were sure that he would have more vital concerns in that concrete jungle that was his home. Although you would miss the communication, you valued your conscious more.

You attempted to fill your time by distracting yourself with mundane things. You managed to stay away from your front door, not wanting to catch yourself longingly gazing at your mail slot for Jungkook’s letters. You began binge-watching one of your favorite shows. And when this wasn’t quite enough to divert your mind and heart, you ordered a new novel online. Reading always made you emerge yourself into other worlds, you would drown yourself into any plot at the moment. Despite not being able to relate to most characters within those free-spirited stories, you still rather bury your head in a book then spend your time thinking of Jungkook and what he was doing.

This lead to another problem.

The drawings.

Your assumption of him being an artistic soul was indeed spot on. He sent you three etchings, all done by pencil and depicting of you. The first one was just a drawing of your selfie, you could tell by the hair-do, pose and outfit. The second one was just of you, portrait style with eyes staring ahead at any observer and very detailed. And the third one was of you tapping a pen against your chin, brows scrunched and staring down at your hands that held a piece of paper. Right next to this image was a side note of ‘this is what I picture when I think of you writing me letters.’

It was almost unbelieveable how good he was at drawing you.

It was as if he knew your face for years, he created it so well from just having a picture to go off of. The cross-hatching, the shadowing, the use of texture, the blending and the perfect imagery of every feature on your face.... It was baffling. It was like looking at the lense of someone else’s perception of you. He clearly thought you were way prettier than you did. The girl he drew was elevated from what your self-esteem would let you think yourself to be. It was so odd….but you couldn’t help but marvel at his works. It was nice of him to draw you, almost intimate. You wondered how carefully he dissected your picture to be able to draw you in situations that he’s never seen you in. You never thought you’d say a boy took the time to draw you, but you were flattered.

Too bad you were unable to tell him how impressed you were with such effort.

Too bad you couldn’t study them any further.

You thought about burning them. Cutting them into millions of pieces. Throwing them away. Letting them drift in the wind onto some random street below your apartment.

But when you worked up the nerve to initiate any of the acts of destruction, you just couldn’t.

You may hate the artist behind the creation. But not the creation itself.

You stored them under your bed, not wanting to spare any thought to Jungkook but also wanting to preserve the art for a later time when your heart wasn’t wounded and a certain serial killer was in your rear view mirror.

But you couldn’t ignore the killer for as long as you would’ve liked.

Your book arrived. And you had to get it,

While doing so, you were faced with three envelopes addressed to you. From Jungkook.

Your halted your actions for a split second. It was almost second nature to feel the bubbling excitement and instinct to reach for them.

But then those deceased five faces flashed before your eyes.

In the end, you ignored them in favor of retrieving your freshly purchased book.

But after you laid yourself on your couch and found yourself re-reading the same first paragraph over and over again, you realized that those letters just couldn’t be ignored. They stubbornly beckoned your attention, a siren’s call demanding your priority. You huffed and set the book down, fixing your gaze towards the entrance of your humble nest, were the letters innocently laid.

Here you were faced with a dilemma.

Did you trust yourself enough to read the contents of the letters and not send a response of your own?

Would it be the right thing to even open them?

Could you bear not knowing what he had to say to you after you haven’t made contact in a while?

You bit your lip and contemplated the ethics at play.

Surely, just to read the letters wouldn’t mean any harm…...right?

You had ended the ties but what was so wrong with glancing over some previous records of the relationship? Because that’s what Jungkook’s letters would be...evidence of the past friendship you shared with him.

You honestly couldn’t bear the mystery.

You just had to know what he had to say.

You grabbed the letters and ripped them open in a rush to put an end to your inner turmoil.

He was worried.

He was confused.

He was hurt.

Jungkook expressed his somberness for not hearing from you. He also voiced his concern for your well being. He was anything but mad at you, just alarmed. That alarm was genuine from what you could tell by his growingly frantic penmanship.

This set ablaze a glowing fire inside your chest.

The audacity of that...that...heathen.

To act so kind and compassionate when he lacked those same emotions towards his victims. You almost wanted to laugh at his pitying tone, wondering if he had such ability when he put those five bodies six feet under. How dare he put the blame on you for not responding back? For making you feel guilty? It was him who was at fault.

A sudden urge to inform him that his jig was up suddenly hit you.

You wanted nothing more than to shove his face in the fact that you broke free from his cute manipulative narrative concerning his mother. In a burst of fury, you quickly grasped for a pen and paper. A rebuttal was all too ready to escape your mind and pierce his soul.

‘Dear Jungkook (or should I say Easter Bunny?)’

It had been a week.

Usually, this is when you would get a response letter.

But when you went to your mail slot and opened the incoming letter, you were left scratching your head in bewilderment.

‘My Dearest Y/n,

I see you found out about the nickname the hideous press gave me.

Well...I think this type of revelation is best talked over in person.

I’ll see you soon.’

It hardly seemed like a proper response to what you had said to him.

You had exposed his truth and his despicable crimes and the only thing he had to reference was the nickname bit? Was he avoiding the topic? Why was the letter so fucking short? And how come he mentioned seeing you in person?

A little bit of paranoia was the theme for the rest of your day.

Logically, you knew that he had no way of seeing you. He was locked up and the severity of his crimes would surely mean that he was heavily guarded, and even if he did manage to overcome that burden, then how the hell would he find you?

But still….you didn’t think Jungkook was capable of murder either. He still did that as well as lied to you to add a ripe cherry on top.

Perhaps he was just trying to fuck with you? To play with your head one last time and freak out the mentally ill girl as one last ‘fuck you’. It wouldn’t be the first time someone used your fears against you. Maybe he wanted to manipulate you once more so you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder even after you two stopped conversing…..

Yes. Getting into the mind of a killer, you would think this was the most effective way he could cause lasting harm to you from behind bars. He was most likely snickering in his jail cell, telling his inmates about how he managed to scare his lunatic of a pen pal. He probably delighted in turning your phobia against you.

This was the only logical explanation.

But still, you made sure your doors and windows were locked after this letter. Just for the sake of clarity.

Days have passed along with your paranoia for the oddity of Jeon Jungkook. You were focused on getting your life back to normal. Or normality to you, considering that not much changed. You just opted out of daydreaming of conversational topics to send to your pal along with the obvious sending of letters. Sure, you still thought about him from time to time...but you would catch yourself in these moments and force some random chores upon yourself to occupy your brain.

Today was a rainy day and you made a goal for yourself to finish the novel you had bought only days prior.

About 30 minutes in, a knock at your door sounded, interrupting your leisurely reading.

You smiled and checked the time.

Your groceries had arrived.

You went to answer the door, making sure to grab the delivery boys’ tip on the way.

When you opened the entrance to your home, the usual boy was there, handing over two big brown bags that were overflowing with food. You grabbed one of the bags and reached for the money to hand over so you could have to tact to grab the other bag without having to struggle to give the boy his tip, when something struck you.

The boys’ head was ducked downwards, not show casting his face but instead the grocery store’s logo on the hat. His hair was darker than you remembered….now that you noticed it, he was taller too. And overall just bigger….

The grocery boy you were used to seeing was of a more adolescent type of figure, you knew it would be preposterous for the boy to have such a growth spurt in only a weeks’ time. Unless he suddenly decided to take up steroids. Confused, you tried to call out his name to get a better look.

“Renjun?”

A moment of suffocating silence.

An icy shock of terror crashed down upon you and somehow you just knew who was under that hat without him having to look up.

A flurry of movement commenced, marking the beginning of your doom.

You tried to keep him out, but your reflexes weren’t fast enough,

In a haste, you dropped the bag and moved to shut the door, pressing your weight against it with all your might to keep him out. Your body was acting faster than your brain could, not sparing a second to even comprehend how the hell he was here. You had to keep him out, he couldn’t violate your safe haven like this! Survival instincts were kicking in.

But he was faster, and stronger and arguably more determined.

He strode in easily, as if your attempts were at a child’s level. Your found yourself with a large and snowy hand clasped over your mouth, preventing any hollerings for help.

He ducked closer to you, big glassy eyes staring at your horrified expression with an almost dreamy manner.

“Why are you shocked? I told you I was going to see you.”

You never gave much thought to what it would be like to be in the presence of a killer.

Somehow, you knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You sitting on your couch with the killer wrapped around you, large frame practically enveloping your smaller one as you were forced to feel his pulsing muscles up close. His face in near proximity to yours, big eyes absorbing your profile with an unreadable look upon his graceful face.

You were under close inspection, it had been like this for twenty minutes at least, him staring at you whilst keeping you caged under his far more capable body. He stared at you with such focus, you found yourself wondering what possibly could have been going through that demented mind of his.

Were you next?

Were you going to be the sixth notch under his belt?

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

The silence was unbearable, for you knew that when it would be broken; something very unpleasant would unfold. You wanted the silence, but it also petrified you.

Finally, you gathered the courage to pierce the blanket of quiet.

“A-are you going to kill me?”

His nose scrunched up at this, transforming his stoic expression into that of confusion from a now somewhat boyish face. His already big eyes seemed to widened and they peered into yours with a new softness that you wouldn’t expect from a killer.

“What? Of course not! I just wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was indeed what you pictured it to be, somewhat breathy and puerile but musical in a sense that could not be explained. You didn’t have time to analyze the person behind the letters, compare him to the mental image you had in your head, when you were too busy trying not to panic and hyperventilate. You read somewhere that if a person is ever kidnapped it’s best to not outwardly panic because it could cause the attacker to want to get rid of you sooner. With this in mind, you tried to calm your racing heart and breathing. First, you need to find out what he wanted, convince him to trust you, and make him turn himself back in. Freaking out could get you nowhere, you must use logic as your escape plan.

“What do you want to talk about?” You wished you sounded as calm as your voice sounded, it completely masked the chaotic state your nervous system was in.

“My crimes.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent very loudly as if the smell was addicting to his nose. His behavior was odd, it was as if he was separated from a long lost lover who he finally found once again. He was attached to you, petting you, studying you and even breathing you in. It was so intimate and you felt like you were being groomed for slaughter….

“Why did you do what you did?”

Jungkook halted his cuddling for a moment to lean back and stare into your eyes with a more serious feeling.

“They didn’t love me like I loved them….”

You were sure you were going to die.

He was insane.

The killings were crimes of passion, towards innocent girls who were unfortunate to witness the side of Jungkook that you are seeing now; a love-struck and delusional man with no boundaries or sense of relationships.

In a last effort to stay alive, you wrestled against his larger form and made a reach for the door.

To your surprise, nothing prevented you from getting up. He didn’t stop you.

“What are you going to do Y/n? Leave?” He called out from behind you in a cynical and delighted tone.

“Sugarplum, you know damn well you can’t go out there.”

Terrible, terrible realization dawned upon you like a poisonous fog that forced your eyes to water and lungs to clog. You were only a foot away from your front door, but you knew you couldn’t venture behind it. Your safe haven has become your own prison.

“You’re stuck here with me.”

#yandere jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #yandere #bangtan boys #obsessive #love #yandere kpop #kpop #pen pal #bts #fanfic #my writing #horror #murder

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pjdredful · 5 years

Text

The AV Club

Chapter 3

I'm in a foggy haze and sounds that I vaguely recognize as worried hushed voices hum in the background. I don't stir or open my eyes hoping that I can just stay asleep a little while longer but the the hum starts to turn into a buzz I just can't ignore. I'm about to open my eyes when something said catches my attention out of the droning. "I don't KNOW what the hell happened. One second we were fine, sitting on the sofa checking the journal out. The next…"

"The next second you're sending up spotlight messages to aliens." That has to be Orson because he sounds irritated that I'm apparently causing a fuss.

"You guys didn't see it. By the time you got here it was over and she was out cold but her face…" Silence for a beat and I can tell they're all looking at me. Probably in fear. "It was everywhere. The light just came out of her, her eyes, skin, everywhere. And she wouldn't let go of the stupid fucking thing. I had to wrestle it out of her grip."

A calmer and softer voice that I recognize as Mo's murmurs a question I can't quite make out. There's a bit of silence before Nat's deep voice breaks the tableau. "No. That's not right. That book is Evie's, we shouldn't read it before she does. Still we should know what we're dealing with. Start with the necklace."

I groan and raise a hand to my forehead, still not opening my eyes. I'm afraid if I do I'll light up the clubhouse again. I can feel Nat's warm reassuring weight behind me as he helps me sit up. I open my eyes but probably I shouldn't have. The room spins and for a second I think I might hork. I swallow thickly a few times and clear my throat. "Evie? Are you okay?" Mo's worried tone makes me give him a wry smile and I shake my head. I’m so not anywhere near the level of okay.

"I'll be okay, just a little…why are you guys staring at me?" I hadn't noticed right away but now that my stomach isn't attempting a jailbreak from my body I realize that all four of them are staring at me with deep frowns. "What?" Nothing. Oh shit. I jump up from the couch, startling them all in to taking a step back. Now I'm really worried. The panic must show on my face because Lirae takes a step forward.

"Dude, your eyes." What about my eyes? "They're glowing." Glowing? Wait. My eyes…are glowing? What!? I need to see this. My bag. Where is my bag? Anxiety like I have never felt before hits me making my dully aching head throb harder as I start buzzing around the main room looking for my bag. I find it half shoved under the loveseat and paw around in it like a deranged squirrel. I stop when a small bright square of mirror is held in my line of sight and slump back in to the loveseat. I raise a shaking hand to take the mirror from Lirae and blink at myself. My eyes are usually a pale gray but they've never looked like this. Something flashes like blue lightening in their depths and I take a closer look, the mirror practically touching my nose.

"Holy crud buckets." There's a shifting of feet and an almost nervous twittering. I look up at everyone surprised to see smiles and faintly amused head shakes.

"That's our Evil Evie alright." I blink over at Orson with a questioning look and he shrugs. "If you were possessed you would have come up with better curse words." Oh. But the fact that he looks relieved makes me feel less annoyed that they actually thought I might be possessed. But to be fair I did apparently turn into the human spotlight. Hm. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick with the human part. As far as I know, glowing isn't a thing the normal average Joe can do. The silence deepens again and I feel like I should look at the mirror so that I don't have to deal with the awkward silence. "So tell me again why you guys were cuddling."

Why isn't there ever a hole in the ground to swallow you up when you need one? I blush but Lirae waves him off with an irritated gesture. "I said sitting, if there was cuddling it's none of your business." Wait. What's happening now? My head swivels a little too fast giving a wicked throb and I wince. Ow. "Can we all just get back to what the hell happened to Evie?"

"The Beacon was lit." My voice is a little shaky but Orson snorts at that but all eyes turn to me immediately.

"The bacon was lit? That sounds stupid." Nat smacks him in the chest with a heavy backhand and he rubs it with a wince. "What?"

"Not bacon, Beacon." Dummy. I sigh and shake my head. "I don't know what that means. Probably my mom wrote something about it, we didn't get a chance to read any of the journal before…." Before I turned in to a column of pure light. I give an involuntary groan and rub my temple. The headache is getting worse. "Anyone have an aspirin? Or sledgehammer to knock me out with?" It suddenly occurs to me why my head is hurting and I look at my friends with a sigh. My weird extra sense is in overdrive, feeling so many different things at once that I can't process much past the pounding in my ears. All I know for certain is that now they'll be coming for me. I don't know how I know it, I just do. "Whatever just happened to me turned my receiver up to eleven, there's stuff out there and it'll be looking for me."

Nat wraps his bear like arms around me letting me bury my face in his chest. There isn't anything romantic between us because what with the gay and all but Nat is the best hugger, ever. I feel safe here and comforted despite the fact that I'm going through some serious eye glowing changes right now. He murmurs softly against the top of my head, letting me just be. "How much time do we have?"

Honestly I'm not sure. Something's wrong with my tingly little senses. Or right with them. I can't tell just yet. "Not too close. It's like it's everywhere at once or too many at once for me to figure out." We don't really have the time for me to lose my shit so I take a deep breath and extricate myself from his embrace. I give Nat a grateful smile and look around for my mom's journal. It's laying on the floor next to the necklace. Very carefully avoiding the chain and pendant I pick up the journal and flip through the first few pages. "We need to know what the rune means, maybe there are some clues in there as to what's happening to me and how I can turn it off."

There's silence around me and I know no one wants to say it but we're all thinking it. If my mom knew a way to turn it off she probably wouldn't have gone crazy. A pale hand takes the chain from the floor and I only half watch is as I try to make out some of the small cramped script. My beloved daughter. I swallow seeing the first words on the first page. It feels like someone just kicked me in the gut. She wrote this for me, not herself. I touch the words tenderly, the sound of the now running generator and the click clack of computer keys fading around me.

My beloved daughter, first let me say this. I love you. I loved you from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you and I will love you long past the death of this mortal body. I only wish that I had more time to tell you all that you will need to know. For that, I am so very sorry. I shut the book, breathing hard, trying to not cry. The couch dips as someone's weight settles next to me and I'm surprised that it's Orson and not oh I don’t know. Anyone else. He's not looking at me which is fine because I don't much feel like being stared at right now.

"Whatever you find in there, I still got your back, Bacon. I just wanted you to know." I'm so surprised I don't even protest the new nickname. I guess it's better than Evil Evie. I don't know what to say that doesn't sound like the stupidest thing ever so I nudge him playfully with my elbow and smile a little less warily at him. Orson smirks at me and gazes at me from the corner of his eye. "So about that cuddling…"

"So not giving you fodder for your spank bank." He makes a mock irritated hum but for the first time since we've known each other, I actually feel like he might be a friend. Sort of?

"Please, like I need your tired old lesbian fantasy. Ladies love the ole Chocolate Thunder." And he's back to being Orson. I give him a look that clearly says I disbelieve anyone has EVER called him Chocolate Thunder but don't say it out loud. Boys are fragile things after all.

"Okay then, thanks for uh. All that." I clear my throat awkwardly because now that we don't have anything else to say to each other it's just weird. Mo's voice cuts through our moment and we look up at him both relieved and slightly disturbed by the burgeoning comradery between us. We’re usually spending far too much time pretending we’re not competing for Lirae’s attention.

"Found something." He spins in the chair, turning away from the bank of screens we've set up at the work station. It's an odd assortment of pilfered old monitors we've scrounged from our garages and various yard sales. It might not be the top of the line but our set up is pretty badass. "So this rune your mom had, it's called Kenaz. It literally means, beacon. All these sites basically say the same thing, it stands for vision, energy, and the harnessed power of light." Click. Another little piece of the puzzle falls in to place. I stroke the cover of the journal idly, my mind deep in thought. "You find anything in your journal?"

Yes, but nothing that I want to share with so many people around. "Kinda but it's hard to read. I think we should talk to someone who might have some ready answers." When no one says anything I figure I should point out the obvious reasons for talking to someone about mystical things. "I mean I can't very well go about life with glowing eyes and the occasional tendency to literally have light shine out of my ass."

It breaks whatever tension was still lingering between my friends. "Couldn't have said it better myself." I give Orson an amused look. "I must be rubbing off on you." He just might be. My smile fades a little as I look them all over and I feel the burning desire to do something I don't really want to do. I take a breath and open my mouth but before I manage to utter a sound Lirae cuts me off.

"Don't even think about it. We're here, we're a family, and maybe I never had a real one before you guys for comparison, but I'm sticking it out because I'm pretty sure that's what families do." There are nods all around so I nod too. "Besides, you guys keep me out of juvie."

It’s a relief because I didn’t want to do all this alone. Keeping Lirae out of cuffs is just a bonus I guess. I put the journal in my bag and sling it over my shoulder but Mo stands and takes it back out. I want to protest but I trust him so I stay quiet as he opens the book and places the chain carefully between the pages. None of us are commenting on the fact that I’m refusing to touch it. Mo replaces the book in my bag again and offers me an encouraging smile "So…where are we headed?" I glance at Nat as I stand, the pulsing pain in my head increasing for a second.

"The Harbor." Warrow isn't my favorite person in the world but he knows more about this world than anyone else we've encountered. He might be a slimy little weasel but…I kind of need him. Gross. I can only imagine how happy he's going to be about that. A warm hand on my elbow steadies me and I realize I had my eyes closed for a second. Hazel eyes fill my vision and I'm suddenly reminded of our near miss kiss in the shed. "Don't look. It's weird." I glance down and away because I don't want Lirae to see my eyes. I'm a freak now. I mean. I always knew I was a freak but now it's confirmed. She cups my face and gives me a warm look. Why are her hands always so warm?

"Still adorkable." Orson mimics her comment snidely but she ignores him to slip dark sunglasses on my face. "Can't have people staring at you." Oh. Good idea.

"Thanks." We break apart a little reluctantly and head for the car. The truth is now is a totally inappropriate time to have fluttery feelings in my belly. I don't even know what's going on with her and ole Chocolate Thunder here. Their breakups never last that long and I don't want to be in the middle of that mess. And somehow I'm stuck. Literally in the middle Lirae and Orson in the backseat of the car. Great. Just. Great.

Mo looks in the rearview mirror at me and offers me a sympathetic grin. "Everyone belted in?" I feel a hand under my rump and I squeak, startled at being groped. "Sorry, you're sitting on the seatbelt." Oddly, she doesn't look the least bit sorry at all.

#my writing #the av club story dredful tales

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wordydelights · 7 years

Text

Detestable Words

"Fucking faggot."

Colton wiped the spit off his eyes. The shower faucet dripped down his crouched back. The entire lockerroom seemed to rattle as the sound of leaving footsteps echoed against the square white tiles. His naked body trembled along with the blue bathroom stalls, the color also matching the bruises on his sides. Tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

He remembered when he had first heard that word. He was seven years old. Him and his younger sister were in the toy department of Walmart. Gracie naturally was drawn towards the girl's section, flooded with sparkles, tiaras and barbies while Colton somehow found himself lost in a world where the color pink was replaced with camo, and wands with toy guns, and princesses with heaving, testosterone pumped superheroes. Their mother had told the two that they could each pick out one thing for themselves as a reward for memorizing their weekly scriptures. His was I John 4:7-8. "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is from God; and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love."

Colton scoured the shelves filled with monster trucks and action figures to stumble upon a misplaced Ken doll, enclosed inside a clear plastic box. It's blonde surfer hair matched it's tropical trunks and perfectly tanned complexion. It wore a light blue striped shirt and had what appeared to be the idealistic standards for a male's body minus the lack of genitalia. He hadn't a clue as to why he did, but he loved it.

"Whatcha got der?" His ma asked as she walked into the aisle hand in hand with a smiling Gracie who was now carrying a brand new fuzzy, fairy wand between her sticky fingers.

Colton reluctantly turned around, revealing the feminine doll in all it's glory. His mother laughed, then proceeded to remove the plastic box from his grasp. "No hon, this is a girls toy."

"But it's a boy like me.”

"Sweetheart, this is for girls, it's a barbie doll. Why don't you pick out one of the GI-Joe's instead?"

"But I like this one," Colton protested.

His mother became frustrated. "No!" She snapped. "This-" she started as she picked up the doll from the shelf with aggression. "This is what little gay boys play with and you're not a little gay boy Colton. Ain't no way I'm raising a little faggot in my damn house. Not as long as Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior, so help me God."

Colton bowed his head in what felt like a lower form of utter shame and slowly nodded in defeat.

Colton returned home with a pack of hot wheels in his hands instead of a Ken Doll. "Ain't that better than a stupid girly doll, Colt." His mother chuckled as she handed the cashier a crumpled up twenty. It wasn't but Colton lied anyways to appease her ego.

That night Colton laid in his plaid bed sheets, pondering. "Ain't no way I'm raising a little faggot," his mother's voice rang within his ears. Maybe it was the way she had said it, the fowl tone she had used but he recalled the putrid taste left in his mouth just being in the presence of such a slur. At just seven years old he didn't completely understand why but he knew he despised it. He hated it with every fiber of his being. Hated every letter, vowel, syllable and pronunciation. He hated the gut wrenching feeling it stirred within him. The sting it left to be remembered by after its impact. The disgust lurking behind it's characters. He hated the hate in that vile word. And he began to wonder, if Jesus really did preach about loving thy brother and how we are all God's children, why such contemptuous words weren't a sin to speak but merely using the Lord Almighty's name in vain is. "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is from God...Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love."

If that was indeed true, then how could speaking in such a manner be acceptable in the eyes of such a seemingly loving God? How could such festering abhorrence in the hearts of man be holy and pure? It was then when Colton learned the definition of hypocrisy.

A light knock was heard from his bedroom door. He closed his eyes and pretended to have fallen fast asleep. Slowly it creaked open, the pattering of small feet was heard shortly after.

"Colt, it's me," Gracie whispered as she tapped his shoulder. Colton gave up on his act and sat up, confused as to why she was in his room this late hour of the night. He suspected she most likely had a nightmare and needed someone to sleep with. "What is it Grace?"

Despite only being able to see her silhouette in the darkness, he could sense she was grinning ear to ear. Before he questioned her motives once again, a familiar object plopped onto his lap. His fingertips hovered over it's plastic features and coarse hair. The thin cloth wrapped around its figure was soft and inviting. He didn't need the light to reveal the secret which he held.

"I told Mommy I didn't want the wand anymore and asked if I could get him for my barbie collection and she said sure. Just don't tell her I gave him to you." Gracie let out a satisfied sigh as she watched her brother hold the doll as if it were precious china.

Colton's eyes welled as he hugged his sister as tight as he could.

"Now you have to let me play with your tiny cars," she giggled as Colton released. He laughed and told her she could have them if she wanted.

Colton fell asleep that evening with the Ken Doll by his side. The calm sky becoming a pitch black as the gloomy clouds stomped over the moonlight.

Now, crouched, naked under a dripping faucet, beaten and bruised, when Colton heard that word he was numb. He'd accepted it. Faggot, noun, a male homosexual. I'm a faggot, he'd tell himself. A fucking faggot. He couldn't let it have the power to hurt or control him any longer.

#The way we see it #prose #short story #excerpt from a book i'll never write #well actually im pretty determined so #lets change it to #excerpt from a book i might write #lgbt #discrimination #lgbtqia #hate #slurs #lit #literature #young adult #fiction #bullied

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cbilluminati · 7 years

Text

So many great titles from IDW this week, and we have your early look at them all. Here’s the IDW Publishing Previews for 1-18-2017.

Action Man, Vol. 1

Writer: John Barber Artist: Paolo Villanelli Cover Artist: Chris Evenhuis

He’s the world’s greatest special agent… until he dies saving the planet, with all the world’s eyes on him. Now his young protégé has to step into the role—whether he’s ready or not! Collects issues #1–4 and the Revolution: Action Man one-shot.

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 128 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-809-0

Bullet points:

“Strike(s) a balance between innocent, old-school spycraft and a more grounded, real-world-influenced take on the franchise.” –IGN

#gallery-0-58 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-58 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 14%; } #gallery-0-58 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-58 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Angry Birds Comics: Game Play #1

Writers: Paul Tobin & Various Artists: Paco Rodriques & Various Cover Artist: Ciro Cangiolosi

An all-new season of Angry Birds Comics is here! Featuring art and stories from some of today’s finest storytellers, this new series is guaranteed to please readers of all ages who love the Angry Birds app or great comics in general!

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Fresh off the successful launch of the new app, these stories focus on the fun and magic surrounding one of the world’s most popular and well recognized game properties!

#gallery-0-59 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-59 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-59 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-59 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The Art of Zach Howard, Vol. 1: Wild Blue Yonder

Writer: Zach Howard Artist: Zach Howard Cover Artist: Zach Howard

Zach Howard has been producing art for some of entertainment’s biggest companies, working on projects like Shaun of the Dead, Spiderman, X-Men, G.I. JOE, and Batman along the way being nominated for an Eisner award and multiple indie awards. In this series, fans get a behind-the-scenes look at his process of creation. Volume 1 focuses on the critically acclaimed series Wild Blue Yonder providing pages of preliminary pencils and finished inks.

TPB • B&W • $9.99 • 48 pages • 8.5” x 11” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-811-3

Bullet points:

“Zach Howard…just crush(es) it. Wild Blue Yonder is stunning beyond belief. The dirt and grit of the world clings to the characters. This is a lived-in universe, a place where you can see the wear and tear on nearly everything.” –IGN

#gallery-0-60 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-60 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 14%; } #gallery-0-60 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-60 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The Complete Chester Gould’s Dick Tracy, Vol. 21

Writer: Chester Gould Artist: Chester Gould Cover Artist: Chester Gould

Dick Tracy leaps into the Space Age when Diet Smith’s experimental Space Coupe brings back a visitor from outer space! Meet… Moon Maid, the most outrageous character in the strip’s entire history. Prior to venturing where no detective has gone before, Tracy deals with some very earthbound—and gruesomely entertaining—adventures, including the use of napalm (!) to flush out a gang of crooks from their hideout. In these strips from August 27, 1962 through April 12, 1964 Tracy mixes it up with the criminal 52 Gang—each named for a card in the poker deck—who have found a novel way to dispose of the corpses of their enemies, Junior is smitten by a girl who literally wants him dead, Sparkle

Plenty falls into the hands of crazed modern artists and their ape accomplice, and (six months before it happened in the “real world”) a doctor has perfected heart transplant surgery—but in this case it’s on unwilling victims!

HC • B&W • $44.99 • 272 pages • 11” x 8.5” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-794-9

Bullet points:

“One of the best things to happen to the comic market in the last few years was IDW’s decision to publish The Complete Chester Gould’s Dick Tracy.” –Scoop

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Dirk Gently: The Salmon of Doubt #4

Writer: Arvind Ethan David Artist: Ilias Kyriazis Cover Artist: Ilias Kyriazis

Plagued by nightmares of a life he never had, Dirk Gently discovers that a holistic detective can have more than one past, and they’re about to catch up with him! Featuring favorite characters from the original books as well as the cast from the TV series, including Samuel Barnett and Elijah Wood!

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

The star of two (almost three) beloved Douglas Adams novels!

Written by executive producer of the TV series Arvind Ethan David!

Executive produced by Max Landis (Chronicle and Superman: American Alien), the writer of the BBC America TV series!

Each issue will have a photo cover featuring the cast of the show!

Ask your retailer about variant cover by Robert Hack (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)!

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Donald Duck: Timeless Tales, Vol. 2

Writer: Romano Scarpa, Giorgio Cavazzano, Luciano Bottaro, Lars Jensen, Daniel Branca, Pat McGreal, Joe Torcivia, Thad Komorowski Artist: Romano Scarpa, Giorgio Cavazzano, Luciano Bottaro, Lars Jensen, Daniel Branca, Pat McGreal, Joe Torcivia, Thad Komorowski Cover Artist: Andrea Freccero

“Howlin’ crashwagons!” IDW’s Donald Duck comics come together in a collectors’ hardback with more of what you want: more amazing epics by Romano Scarpa, Giorgio Cavazzano, and other great comics maestros; more danger for desperate Donald, and more bills for Uncle Scrooge McDuck, forever hauling his nephew’s fat out of the fire! With extras for true Disney Comics aficionados, this collection provides hours of history and thrills. Collects issues #7–12.

HC • FC • $29.99 • 256 pages • 7.25” x 10” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-765-9

Bullet points:

Beautiful Hardcover Edition for Disney Collectors!

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Ghostbusters Annual 2017

Writer: Erik Burnham Artists: Dan Scoening, Rachel Stott, Corin Howell, Erik Evensen Cover Artist: San Schoening

Join us for this special double-sized annual, featuring Ghostbusters past, present… and future! Learn the origin of Slimer! Witness a crazy bust in the Midwest with the Chicago Ghostbusters! Find out what Winston Zeddemore was up to during the Scolari Brothers incident in Ghostbusters 2! And peek into the future at the next generation of Ghostbusters… and much more! Be there or be slimed!

FC • 48 pages • $7.99

Bullet points:

The secret origin of Slimer and much more!

Part of IDW’s 2017 Annual Offensive! Over-sized and action-packed key stories in a deluxe format!

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Jem and the Holograms Annual 2017

Writer: Kelly Thompson Artists: M. Victoria Robado, Maria Jose Barros, Svanna Ganucheau, Katarzyna Witerscheim, Gisele Lagace Cover Artist: W. Scott Forbes

The Starlight Girls have been writing and drawing an “exquisite corpse” style fan fiction comic that re-imagines their favorite pop stars — Jem & The Holograms — as pop-stars by day and renegade space heroes by night. Follow the adventures of Jem and The Holograms as you’ve never seen them before — superheroes fighting to save the universe from the evil Majestrix Pizzazz and her…army of Mecha-Spider-Pizzes!?!? OMG.

FC • 48 pages • $7.99

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My Little Pony: Princess Twilight Sparkle

Writers: Various Artists: Various Cover Artists: Various

The celebrated animated series comes to book shelves! Revisit the habitants of Equestria and learn about the magic that friendship brings in this adaptation of the television series. This volume adapts the two-part “Princess Twilight Sparkle!”

TPB • FC • $7.99 • 148 pages • 5” x 7” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-802-1

Bullet points:

Fan-favorite television episodes adapted for readers of all-ages!

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The October Faction: Deadly Season #4

Writer: Steve Niles Artist: Damien Worm Cover Artist: Damien Worm

With their first clue to Fred Allan’s disappearance, the rest of the Allan family turns to Geoff’s magic in an attempt to find their missing father. Meanwhile, a manhunt’s on for Fred as he tries to survive in a dead city. Will the family be able to locate him before the monstrous children of his old enemies hunt him down?

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

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Popeye Classics #54

Writer: Bud Sagendorf Artist: Bud Sagendorf Cover Artist: Bud Sagendorf

The genius of Bud Sagendorf! You’ll have plenty of ARF ARFs when you read about Popeye going up against Dynamite Dan in “Gentlemen Only!” Swee’pea, Pappy, Olive Oil and Wimpy join the one-eyed sailor in “Gone!” Plus “Mountain Monster” and “O.G. Wottasnozzle, The Only Man on Earth with the Atomic Brain.”

FC • 32 pages • $4.99

Bullet points:

Variant cover by Jorge Gutierrez!

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Powerpuff Girls #6

Writers: Haley Mancini and Jake Goldman Artist: Nicoletta Baldari Cover Artist: Nicoletta Baldari

While stopping The Fashionistas in their latest attempt to steal the coveted Diamond Pumps, The Powerpuff Girls get blasted by an experimental SASSY RAY! Have they gone from “sugar, spice and everything nice” to “sass, frass and zero class”… forever?!

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Comic series written by show writers Jake Goldman and Haley Mancini–Haley is also the voice of arch-villainess PRINCESS MOREBUCKS! Each issue ripped directly from the NEW world of The Powerpuff Girls.

Each retailer incentive cover will be by a Powerpuff Girls animator!

Variant cover by Julia Vickerman!

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Revolutionaries #1

Writer: John Barber Artist: Fico Ossio Cover Artist: Tradd Moore

THE REVOLUTION MAY BE OVER–but the future is just beginning! Ripped from the pages of the hottest crossover of the year, the REVOLUTION team of John Barber and Fico Ossio continue the action! KUP is a CYBERTRONIAN literally older than the universe; ACTION MAN is the ultimate special agent trying to live up to an impossible legacy; MAYDAY is a G.I. JOE leader trying to rescue her first command; and BLACKROCK is a CYBERTRONIAN that thinks he’s a human. It takes the mind-bending clash of ROM versus MAJOR BLUDD and the OKTOBER GUARD to bring this unlikely team together… and the secret they learn threatens to unravel the entire universe.

FC • 32 pages + mini-comic • $4.99

Bullet points:

Exclusive bound-in Savage mini-comic reprinting a lost tale written and drawn by the late, great Joe Kubert himself!

Written by one part of the powerhouse creative team that brought you the mega-event, Revolution!

New tales that continue the storyline of the hit Revolution comic-book event and featuring the same amazing creative team!

Illustrated by Revolution artist, burgeoning superstar Fico Ossio!

The secrets of the Hasbro universe will be revealed. If you follow one new book this month, make it Revolutionaries!

Variant covers by Sara Pitre-Durocher, Sonny Liew, and Paul Pope!

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Rom, Vol. 1

Writers: Christos Gage & Chris Ryall Artist: David Messina Cover Artist: Zach Howard

Far away, in another galaxy, the knights of the Solstar Order, defenders of justice and truth, were ambushed by the evil magicians, the Dire Wraiths. In the end, the Solstar Order prevailed and began seeking out its scattered enemies. One of these knights has followed the trail of the Dire Wraiths all the way to Earth. This knight, the one the Dire Wraiths fear more than all others has hounded them and kept them underground for centuries and could wipe them off the face of creation. He is ROM, Lord of the Solstar Order; Rom, the Wraithslayer. Collects issues #0–4 and Rom: Revolution.

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 132 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-817-5

Bullet points:

“This new series captures all the fun and charm of the classic ’80s franchise, with just enough touches of real-world drama to give weight to Rom’s never-ending battle with the Dire Wraiths.” –IGN

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Star Trek: Waypoint #3 (of 6)

Writers: Cecil Castellucci, Mairghread Scott Artists: Megan Levens, Corin Howell Cover Artist: Daniel Warren Johnson

Star Trek: Deep Space 9 and Star Trek: Voyager return to comics! In Castellucci’s, “Mother’s Walk,” major Kira confronts how she can perform a mandatory, ancient Bajoran pilgrimage when so many family members, needed for the rite, are dead. Who can she turn to? And in Scott’s “The Wildman Maneuver,” an unlikely member of the Voyager crew “saves” the ship!

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Check out the variant covers featuring STAR TREK artists from the last 50 years of Trek comics!

Photo cover variant!

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Universe #6

Writers: John Lees, Nick Pitarra, Brahm Revel Artists: Nick Pitarra, Brahm Revel Cover Artist: Freddie Williams

Behold the debut of the TMNT’s weirdest foe yet: Wyrm! When Michelangelo tries to help find a missing person in the sewers, he ends up discovering something he wished stayed in the dark!

FC • 32 pages • $4.99

Bullet points:

A new back-up story from Brahm Revel (Guerillas) takes us inside the Foot Clan!

Variant cover by Logan Faeber!

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Transformers: Titans Return

Writers: John Barber, James Roberts, Mairghread Scott Artists: Livio Ramondelli, Priscilla Tramontano Cover Artist: Priscilla Tramontano

Once he ruled CYBERTRON with a brutal (and literal) iron fist… left for dead four million years ago, SENTINEL PRIME is back. But in a world where STARSCREAM rules CYBERTRON, OPTIMUS PRIME has invaded Earth, and MEGATRON is an AUTOBOT—SENTINEL doesn’t like what he sees! Collects the Titans Return one-shot, Transformers #56–57, and Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye #56–57.

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 120 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-821-2

Bullet points:

“The Transformers: Titans Return is perfect to get readers of all kinds hooked.” –Major Spoilers

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Walt Disney’s Comics & Stories #736

Writers: William Van Horn, Evert Geradts, Thad Komorowski Artists: William Van Horn, Mau Heymans, Giovan Battista Carpi Cover Artists: Daan Jippes, Ulrich Schroeder

In “Quest for the Faceplant,” Donald’s out to catch a monstrous man-eating plant for Uncle Scrooge—but will pirates get there first? Then Donald turns soap opera actor in “As the Snail Trails”… and Goofy gets an online Valentine in “Crimes of Passion”!

FC • 40 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Fan favorites William Van Horn and Mau Heymans deliver wild new tales of Donald, Scrooge, and Daisy at their dizziest!

Rediscover classic Golden Age Disney art by Walt Kelly (Pogo) on our Subscription Cover this month!

Check out the Massimo Asaro winter fun variant cover!

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The X-Files #10

Writer: Joe Harris Artist: Greg Scott Cover Artist: menton3

“Contrarians,” Part 1 (of 2): Mulder chances upon evidence that suggests the now-defunct Syndicate’s involvement in the Iran-Contra affair. Guest-starring the Cigarette Smoking Man and President Reagan!

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Executive produced by The X-Files creator Chris Carter!

Part of IDW’s Artist’s Edition Cover Month!

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via IDW Publishing

IDW Publishing Previews for 1-18-2017

So many great titles from IDW this week, and we have your early look at them all.

IDW Publishing Previews for 1-18-2017 So many great titles from IDW this week, and we have your early look at them all.

#comic books #comics #IDW Publishing #Preview

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hacktagmedia · 6 years

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Did Stephen King’s Son Just Solve a 44-Year-Old Murder Mystery?

What do Jaws and an infamous cold case have in common? Bestselling author Joe Hill presents a theory linking two events that took place in 1974 Cape Cod.

In 2015, Joe Hillstrom King sat in a New Hampshire movie theater with his three teenage sons, stoked to see a special 40th anniversary screening of Jaws, his all-time favorite film, for the first time on the big screen as it was intended. Better known by his pen name Joe Hill, the comic book and horror-thriller writer—and son of Stephen King—watched with rapture. But 54 minutes in, he leapt out of his seat, his arms prickled with goosebumps and his heart pounding, at a scene that startled him for the first time despite the many times he had watched the movie.

It wasn’t your typical jump-scare, no image of a hungry Great White Shark attacking a beachgoer. Instead, it was a scene in which a crowd boards a ferry on the Fourth of July, a seemingly innocuous moment in Steven Spielberg’s iconic masterpiece. In the shot, a female extra wearing a blue bandana over her auburn hair caught Hill’s attention. She was “almost a twin of the figure” in a forensic recreation image he recently saw of the Lady of the Dunes, the still-unidentified murder victim discovered in Provincetown in 1974—the very same year Jaws was filmed on nearby Martha’s Vineyard.

Joe Hill.

“The movie and the murder overlap geographically and chronologically,” Hill tells Esquire.com. “Allowing for the possibility that the Lady of the Dunes was in the right place at the right time—or, rather, the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Hill first developed a macabre fascination with the Lady of the Dunes after reading about her death in Deborah Halber’s 2014 book, The Skeleton Crew: How Amateur Sleuths Are Solving America’s Coldest Cases, whichdetails the modern phenomenon of citizens using Internet resources to identify unidentified human remains.

Thought to be in her mid-20s to -30s, the Lady of the Dunes was discovered on July 26, 1974, about a mile east of the Race Point Ranger Station on the northern tip of Cape Cod. The nude, decomposing body was discovered by a 13-year-old girl who was walking her beagle in the dunes; the woman was estimated to have been deceased for up to three weeks.

Her long, reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a glittery hair-tie, and she had seven gold crowns in her mouth that were worth thousands of dollars. Her hands were cut off and missing, presumably so she couldn’t be identified through fingerprints. Her skull was crushed, she was nearly decapitated, and her body was lying on a beach towel “as if she’d been sharing it with a companion,” according to the Provincetown Police Department.

Her head rested on folded Wrangler jeans and a blue bandana—very similar to the outfit worn by the extra in the ferry scene from Jaws.

Left: an image, taken from Joe Hill’s blog, of the female extra in Jaws; right: a 2010 composite sketch of the Lady of the Dunes.

After the immediate shock, Hill sat back down in his seat, his pulse returning to normal. “I was like, ‘No way,'” he recalls of his disbelief. “I have the kind of imagination that churns out ghost stories almost automatically. I’ve just done it so much that I told myself, ‘You’re telling yourself a ghost story!'”

Still, he couldn’t get the woman from Jaws—her blue bandana, her auburn hair—out of his head. When he got home, he rewatched the movie on his laptop, thumbing through the ferry scene frame by frame. He told friends about his theory, including a buddy who works for the FBI, who said it “was interesting, and [that] sometimes very cold cases have been caught by stranger ideas.”

“I thought there really might be something there,” says Hill. “[So I did] what any sane person would do: I put it on the Internet!'”

He described the idea in a Tumblr post, noting the similarities between the Lady in the Dunes and the extra from Jaws:

Blue bandana. About 30. Fit, 145 pounds. I don’t believe those are Wrangler jeans, but a lady presumably owns more than one pair of jeans.

I admit its pretty goddamn wild speculation. And yet… And yet. Let’s go a little further down this very dim, very narrow alley of fantastic conjecture. It is impossible to say with complete precision when they filmed the “July 4th – Crowd Arrives” sequence, which is where this shot appears. But we know it was almost certainly shot in June, because they filmed all the “on island” scenes they could early. The water was too cold for swimming, and the malfunctioning shark wasn’t ready for the “at sea” material until late July. We also know the Lady of the Dunes was alive in June and that the filming of JAWS was a big deal locally. Lots of folks turned up to try and get a peek at the stars, or the shark, or to see if they could sneak into a shot.

He included the caveat that he literally makes up stories for a living (Hill’s most recent book, Strange Weather, is a collection of four short chilling novels).

I am under no illusions about the situation here. I was watching Jaws, under the influence of The Skeleton Crew, and my subconscious invented an exciting little story about the Lady of the Dunes on the spot. It was so good, I persuaded myself it might be true.

It IS a helluva what-if, isn’t it? What if the young murder victim no one has ever been able to identify has been seen by hundreds of millions of people in a beloved summer classic and they didn’t even know they were looking at her? What if the ghost of the Lady of the Dunes haunts Jaws?

Hill’s theory went viral this summer after it was featured on Wondery’s Inside Jaws, a podcast devoted to Steven Spielberg’s journey from inexperienced director to influential filmmaker. And it’s not the first time his idea has been picked up. In 2015, VICE published an article about it, and Hill even told the publication he received offers from other amateur sleuths to search for payroll records for Jaws extras and to hunt down data that could help solve the mystery.

Three years ago, a writer from Entertainment Weekly took interest, offering to help track down the name of the extra, which—if she were alive—could disprove Hill’s wild theory. Hill claims a Universal Studios archivist told the writer they couldn’t find the extra’s name; Shari Rhodes, the casting director for Jaws, died in 2009.

Facial reconstruction images created by forensic experts. Courtesy National Center for Missing and Exploited Children

Hill never went directly to the police with his idea; he feels “silly,” he says, about the possibility of wasting an officer’s time. Provincetown Police have not returned Esquire.com’s request for comment at the time of publication. According to their website, however, the body of the Lady in the Dunes was exhumed in 2000 in “an attempt to confirm her identity.” In May of 2010, a new composite was created using state of the art technology and computer analyses.

According to a 2014 Boston Globe article, detectives have consulted dentists and psychics in an attempt to solve the case. They’ve also used “ground-penetrating radar” and made a plaster reconstruction of her face.

“I have the kind of imagination that churns out ghost stories almost automatically,” Joe Hill says. “I’ve just done it so much that I told myself, ‘You’re telling yourself a ghost story!'”

“How does someone end up here, of all places, not to be identified for 40 years?” Detective Meredith K. Lobur of the Provincetown Police Department, the lead investigator on the case, told the publication. “She’s always some part of my day… Some murders are never solved. I refuse to believe this is one of them.”

Lobur works on the case on her days off, according to the Globe, and is convinced that the killer will be found when the victim is identified.

“I know there’s a murderer out there somewhere loose,” retired Acting Chief Warren Tobias, who led the search for 22 years, told the paper. “There’s a family out there that needs closure.”

Joe Hill has been a Jaws fan since he was a kid. Courtesy Joe Hill

Meanwhile, Hill recognizes that his theory is a fantastical one, and “there’s probably nothing” to the connection between the unknown murder victim and the unknown Jaws extra. “But at the same time,” he says, “two incredible things happened in the area of Cape Cod in the of summer 1974. One, a woman was killed. The other was that Jaws was filmed and became the summer film to define all other summer films. It’s not that hard to believe that a person in the area of Provincetown might have scooted off to Martha’s Vineyard… to see all the movie stars [and wound up being an extra].

“My subconscious kind of spun up this possibility,” he continues. “If nothing else, it’s a pretty good little ghost story.”

Hill says his father, the master of horror and suspense, also thinks the story is a powerful one. “He always enjoys puzzling over a bizarre bit of Americana,” says Hill. “Old, unresolved stories [is] something of a family hobby.”

At the very least, Hill hopes bringing attention to the case might lead to more clues—or encourage someone with information to talk.

“A woman died and she’s never been identified,” he says. “She’s someone’s daughter—you have to hope sooner or later there will be a resolution. But I keep wondering how come that woman [in Jaws], if she’s [not the Lady in the Dunes]… Why hasn’t she—or someone that knows her—come forward to say, ‘This is me’?”

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billdecker · 6 years

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2018.

Here we are with the films list again. Bold = watched first time.

Films.

The English Patient

The BFG

Anna Karenina [1967]

King Kong [2005]

Henry VIII and his Six Wives [1972]

The Disaster Artist

Napoleon Dynamite

The Addams Family

Kong: Skull Island

Justice League

The Addams Family Values

Johnny English

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle

Wayne’s World

Lady Bird

Westworld

Carol

Green Lantern

England is Mine

Rush Hour

Pride and Prejudice [2005]

Call Me By Your Name

The Greatest Showman

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Dante’s Peak

Only Lovers Left Alive

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Blade Runner

Moonrise Kingdom

Clue

Get Smart

Darkest Hour

Blade Runner 2049

Lost in Translation

The Talented Mr. Ripley

The Lego Movie

Anchorman

The Shape of Water

Get Out

San Andreas

The Beguiled

Lady Chatterley’s Lover [1981]

Interview With a Vampire

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Song to Song

Atonement

La La Land

Drop Dead Fred

Attack the Block

Another Mother’s Son

I, Tonya

The Sense of an Ending

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Cold Mountain

Step Up

The Founder

The Fugitive

The Promise

Papadopoulos and Sons

Rob Roy

The Florida Project

Professor Marston and the Wonder Women

Head in the Clouds

Crooked House

Miami Vice [2006]

Miss Sloane

Molly’s Game

Battle of the Sexes

Half of a Yellow Sun

A Quiet Passion

Lady Jane

Anne of a Thousand Days

Mars Attacks!

Zoolander

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Nina

Pele: Birth of a Legend

2001: A Space Odyssey

A Futile and Stupid Gesture

The Mask

Phantom Thread

Black Panther

Eyes Wide Shut

The Death of Stalin

Baywatch

Paddington 2

Wonder Woman

Star Trek [2009]

Star Trek Into Darkness

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Star Trek Beyond

Denial

Chariots of Fire

Captain America: The First Avenger

Iron Man

The Incredible Hulk

Borg vs McEnroe

Iron Man 2

Thor

Avengers Assemble

Iron Man 3

Thor: The Dark World

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Guardians of the Galaxy

Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 2

Ant-Man

Captain America: Civil War

Doctor Strange

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Thor: Ragnarok

War Horse

God’s Own Country

In Bruges

The Big Sick

The Towering Inferno

Magnolia

Our Souls at Night

Dog Day Afternoon

Willow

Roman Holiday

Sabrina

Annihilation

North by Northwest

The Emoji Movie

Coco

Grease

Dirty Dancing

Captain Fantastic

The Wicker Man

This is Spinal Tap

Magic Mike XXL

Come Sunday

The Dark Tower

Bill

Avengers: Infinity War

Loving Vincent

Mansfield Park

Three Men and a Little Lady

Oliver!

Rough Night

Avatar

One Last Dance

Girls Trip

Alex and the List

The Dambusters

The Mummy [2017]

London

The Damned United

The Wedding Video

Deadpool

Enter the Dragon

Atomic Blonde

The Red Shoes

The Great Gatsby [2013]

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

South Park: Bigger, Longer, Uncut

Morris: A Life With Bells On

Boss Baby

Solo: A Star Wars Story

Kenny

All About Eve

Lethal Weapon

Lethal Weapon 2

Final Portrait

The Little Mermaid

The Huntsman: Winter’s War

Men in Black 3

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider

Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life

Tomb Raider [2018]

Crocodile Dundee

Jabberwocky

Legend

Lethal Weapon 3

The Witches

Down With Love

Clash of the Titans [1981]

Clash of the Titans [2010]

I Give it a Year

Terminal

Where the Wild Things Are

The Handmaiden

The Muppet Movie [1979]

Brakes

Ready Player One

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

A Wrinkle in Time

Breathe

Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets

Eagle vs Shark

Farenheit 451 [2018]

Picnic at Hanging Rock

Mission Impossible

Mission Impossible II

Mission Impossible III

The Saint [2017]

JFK

Ocean’s 8

Deadpool 2

Falling Down

Duck Butter

Peter Rabbit

44 Inch Chest

You Instead

The Deep Blue Sea

Not Another Happy Ending

Punch Drunk Love

The Fast and The Furious

2 Fast 2 Furious

The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift

Fast & Furious

Fast Five

Fast & Furious 6

Furious 7

The Fate of the Furious

Geostorm

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Escape to Victory

Porcupine Lake

The Snowman

The Incredibles

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

Daphne

Ingrid Goes West

One Day

My Neighbor Totoro

There Will Be Blood

Rampage

Goodbye Christopher Robin

Incredibles 2

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

Belle de Jour

Mission Impossible - Fallout

The Spy Who Dumped Me

The Meg

Little Ashes

Meet Joe Black

The King of Comedy

Jason and the Argonauts

Flash Gordon

Odette

Strictly Ballroom

Into the Woods

Cars 3

The Book of Life

Murder on the Orient Express [2017]

Kath & Kimderella

Madame Bovary

X-Men: First Class

X-Men: Days of Future Past

X-Men: Apocalypse

All the Money in the World

Quincy

The Post

Becoming Bond

Early Man

Little Women [1994]

Dangerous Liaisons

The Party

Operation Finale

Nappily Ever After

What’s New Pussycat?

Saved!

A Star is Born [1976]

Modern Life is Rubbish

Jaws

The Mercy

Swept from the Sea

Permission

Venom

A Star is Born [2018]

Far and Away

Heat

Jane Eyre

Braveheart

Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool

Juliet, Naked

First Man

Christopher Robin

Vincent and Theo

Pollock

Bohemian Rhapsody

One More Time With Feeling

Interlude in Prague

The Mask of Zorro

The Legend of Zorro

You, Me, and Him

The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

Crazy Rich Asians

Bobby [2016]

Outlaw King

Space Jam

They Shall Not Grow Old

The Grinch [2018]

The Big Lebowski

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

Mulan

The Battle of the River Plate

They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead

My Generation

Batman Begins

Being John Malkovich

Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone

Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets

Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire

Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows - Part One

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows - Part Two

Widows

Immortal Beloved

Basquiat

Goya’s Ghosts

The Madness of King George

Charade

Star Wars: A New Hope

Stars Wars: The Empire Strikes Back

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

Star Wars: The Phantom Menace

Stars Wars: Attack of the Clones

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith

Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Star Wars: Rogue One

The Polar Express

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King

Dr. No

From Russia With Love

Goldfinger

Thunderball

You Only Live Twice

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service

Diamonds Are Forever

Live and Let Die

The Man With the Golden Gun

The Spy Who Loved Me

Moonraker

For Your Eyes Only

Octopussy

A View to a Kill

The Living Daylights

Licence to Kill

Goldeneye

Tomorrow Never Dies

The World is Not Enough

Die Another Day

Casino Royale

Quantum of Solace

Skyfall

Spectre

Superbob

Greenfingers

Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle

A Christmas Prince

Aquaman

Love, Cecil

A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding

The Man Who Invented Christmas

Copying Beethoven

The Party’s Just Beginning

Point Break

Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa

The Sound of Music

The Muppet Christmas Carol

The Muppets

Cars 2

The Holiday

A Bad Moms Christmas

The Holiday Calendar

The Christmas Chronicles

Nativity

Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger

Arthur Christmas

Bobby Robson: More Than a Manager

Zootropolis

Mary Poppins

The Good Dinosaur

Trolls

Rise of the Guardians

Bros: After the Screaming Stops

The Beatles: Eight Days a Week - The Touring Years

Get Carter [1971]

Bottle Rocket

Turbo

Closer

Nothing Like a Dame

Bolt

Make Us Dream

Die Hard

How to Train Your Dragon 2

Porridge

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Books.

A Book For Her - Bridget Christie

Hickory Dickory Dock - Agatha Christie

Bright Star - John Keats

The Oberon Book of Comic Monologues for Women - Katy Wix

The Oberon Book of Comic Monologues for Women: Volume 2 - Katy Wix

Slaughterhouse 5 - Kurt Vonnegut

Division Street - Helen Mort

The Victorian Guide to Sex - Fern Riddell

A Woman’s Work - Harriet Harman

Help - Simon Amstell

The Princess Diarist - Carrie Fisher

Selected Poems - Sylvia Plath

Ariel - Sylvia Plath

The ‘If You Prefer a Milder Comedian Please Ask For One’ EP - Stewart Lee

The Rachel Papers - Martin Amis

Parker Pyne Investigates - Agatha Christie

Bone - Yrsa Daley-Ward

Pages For You - Sylvia Brownrigg

The Sun and Her Flowers - Rupi Kaur

Different for Girls: A Girl’s Own True-Life Adventures in Pop - Louise Wener

A Single Man - Christopher Isherwood

A Room of One’s Own - Virginia Woolf

Repeal the 8th - Una Mullally

Why Not Socialism? - G.A. Cohen

The Chaos of Longing - K.Y. Robinson

High-Rise - J.G. Ballard

Animal Farm - George Orwell

Fully Coherent Plan - David Shrigley

The Lesser Bohemians - Eimear McBride

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 3/4 - Sue Townsend

Hera Lindsay Bird - Hera Lindsay Bird

Submarine - Joe Dunthorne

In the Penal Colony - Franz Kafka

Babette’s Feast - Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen)

The Expelled - Samuel Beckett

Youth - Joseph Conrad

The Life of Rylan - Rylan Clark-Neal

Autumn - Ali Smith

The Cornet-Player Who Betrayed Ireland - Frank O’Connor

Two Gallants - James Joyce

Teaching my Mother How to Give Birth - Warsan Shire

Selected Poems - Edgar Allan Poe

Casino Royale - Ian Fleming

Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

The Door in the Wall - H.G Wells

Terra Incognita - Vladimir Nabokov

Dirty Pretty Things - Michael Faudet

Women & Power: A Manifesto - Mary Beard

Dear Illusion - Kingsley Amis

Bitter Sweet Love - Michael Faudet

Smoke & Mirrors - Michael Faudet

Girl Meets Boy - Ali Smith

Pre-Raphaelites - Heather Birchall

Conspiracy - Charlotte Greig

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

Sex and Rage - Eve Babitz

Scoop - Evelyn Waugh

The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh - edited by Mark Roskill

Role Models - John Waters

The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald

How Not To Be a Boy - Robert Webb

Animal - Sara Pascoe

Absolute Pandemonium - Brian Blessed

Eileen - Ottessa Moshfegh

A Discovery of Witches - Deborah Harkness

A Handful of Dust - Evelyn Waugh

Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters - Jane Austen and Ben H. Winters

Normal People - Sally Rooney

Feminists Don’t Wear Pink - Scarlet Curtis and Others.

Parsnips, Buttered - Joe Lycett

The Humans - Matt Haig

The Machine Stops - E.M. Forster

Ivanhoe - Sir Walter Scott

Poems for a World Gone to Shit - Various

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So many great titles from IDW this week, and we have your early look at them all. Here’s the IDW Publishing Previews for 1-18-2017.

Action Man, Vol. 1

Writer: John Barber Artist: Paolo Villanelli Cover Artist: Chris Evenhuis

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 128 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-809-0

Bullet points:

“Strike(s) a balance between innocent, old-school spycraft and a more grounded, real-world-influenced take on the franchise.” –IGN

Angry Birds Comics: Game Play #1

Writers: Paul Tobin & Various Artists: Paco Rodriques & Various Cover Artist: Ciro Cangiolosi

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Fresh off the successful launch of the new app, these stories focus on the fun and magic surrounding one of the world’s most popular and well recognized game properties!

The Art of Zach Howard, Vol. 1: Wild Blue Yonder

Writer: Zach Howard Artist: Zach Howard Cover Artist: Zach Howard

TPB • B&W • $9.99 • 48 pages • 8.5” x 11” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-811-3

Bullet points:

The Complete Chester Gould’s Dick Tracy, Vol. 21

Writer: Chester Gould Artist: Chester Gould Cover Artist: Chester Gould

HC • B&W • $44.99 • 272 pages • 11” x 8.5” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-794-9

Bullet points:

“One of the best things to happen to the comic market in the last few years was IDW’s decision to publish The Complete Chester Gould’s Dick Tracy.” –Scoop

Dirk Gently: The Salmon of Doubt #4

Writer: Arvind Ethan David Artist: Ilias Kyriazis Cover Artist: Ilias Kyriazis

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

The star of two (almost three) beloved Douglas Adams novels!

Written by executive producer of the TV series Arvind Ethan David!

Executive produced by Max Landis (Chronicle and Superman: American Alien), the writer of the BBC America TV series!

Each issue will have a photo cover featuring the cast of the show!

Ask your retailer about variant cover by Robert Hack (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)!

Donald Duck: Timeless Tales, Vol. 2

HC • FC • $29.99 • 256 pages • 7.25” x 10” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-765-9

Bullet points:

Beautiful Hardcover Edition for Disney Collectors!

Ghostbusters Annual 2017

Writer: Erik Burnham Artists: Dan Scoening, Rachel Stott, Corin Howell, Erik Evensen Cover Artist: San Schoening

FC • 48 pages • $7.99

Bullet points:

The secret origin of Slimer and much more!

Part of IDW’s 2017 Annual Offensive! Over-sized and action-packed key stories in a deluxe format!

Jem and the Holograms Annual 2017

Writer: Kelly Thompson Artists: M. Victoria Robado, Maria Jose Barros, Svanna Ganucheau, Katarzyna Witerscheim, Gisele Lagace Cover Artist: W. Scott Forbes

FC • 48 pages • $7.99

My Little Pony: Princess Twilight Sparkle

Writers: Various Artists: Various Cover Artists: Various

TPB • FC • $7.99 • 148 pages • 5” x 7” • ISBN: 978-1-63140-802-1

Bullet points:

Fan-favorite television episodes adapted for readers of all-ages!

The October Faction: Deadly Season #4

Writer: Steve Niles Artist: Damien Worm Cover Artist: Damien Worm

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Popeye Classics #54

Writer: Bud Sagendorf Artist: Bud Sagendorf Cover Artist: Bud Sagendorf

FC • 32 pages • $4.99

Bullet points:

Variant cover by Jorge Gutierrez!

Powerpuff Girls #6

Writers: Haley Mancini and Jake Goldman Artist: Nicoletta Baldari Cover Artist: Nicoletta Baldari

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Each retailer incentive cover will be by a Powerpuff Girls animator!

Variant cover by Julia Vickerman!

Revolutionaries #1

Writer: John Barber Artist: Fico Ossio Cover Artist: Tradd Moore

FC • 32 pages + mini-comic • $4.99

Bullet points:

Exclusive bound-in Savage mini-comic reprinting a lost tale written and drawn by the late, great Joe Kubert himself!

Written by one part of the powerhouse creative team that brought you the mega-event, Revolution!

New tales that continue the storyline of the hit Revolution comic-book event and featuring the same amazing creative team!

Illustrated by Revolution artist, burgeoning superstar Fico Ossio!

The secrets of the Hasbro universe will be revealed. If you follow one new book this month, make it Revolutionaries!

Variant covers by Sara Pitre-Durocher, Sonny Liew, and Paul Pope!

Rom, Vol. 1

Writers: Christos Gage & Chris Ryall Artist: David Messina Cover Artist: Zach Howard

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 132 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-817-5

Bullet points:

Star Trek: Waypoint #3 (of 6)

Writers: Cecil Castellucci, Mairghread Scott Artists: Megan Levens, Corin Howell Cover Artist: Daniel Warren Johnson

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Check out the variant covers featuring STAR TREK artists from the last 50 years of Trek comics!

Photo cover variant!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Universe #6

Writers: John Lees, Nick Pitarra, Brahm Revel Artists: Nick Pitarra, Brahm Revel Cover Artist: Freddie Williams

Behold the debut of the TMNT’s weirdest foe yet: Wyrm! When Michelangelo tries to help find a missing person in the sewers, he ends up discovering something he wished stayed in the dark!

FC • 32 pages • $4.99

Bullet points:

A new back-up story from Brahm Revel (Guerillas) takes us inside the Foot Clan!

Variant cover by Logan Faeber!

Transformers: Titans Return

Writers: John Barber, James Roberts, Mairghread Scott Artists: Livio Ramondelli, Priscilla Tramontano Cover Artist: Priscilla Tramontano

TPB • FC • $19.99 • 120 pages • ISBN: 978-1-63140-821-2

Bullet points:

“The Transformers: Titans Return is perfect to get readers of all kinds hooked.” –Major Spoilers

Walt Disney’s Comics & Stories #736

Writers: William Van Horn, Evert Geradts, Thad Komorowski Artists: William Van Horn, Mau Heymans, Giovan Battista Carpi Cover Artists: Daan Jippes, Ulrich Schroeder

FC • 40 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Fan favorites William Van Horn and Mau Heymans deliver wild new tales of Donald, Scrooge, and Daisy at their dizziest!

Rediscover classic Golden Age Disney art by Walt Kelly (Pogo) on our Subscription Cover this month!

Check out the Massimo Asaro winter fun variant cover!

The X-Files #10

Writer: Joe Harris Artist: Greg Scott Cover Artist: menton3

FC • 32 pages • $3.99

Bullet points:

Executive produced by The X-Files creator Chris Carter!

Part of IDW’s Artist’s Edition Cover Month!

via IDW Publishing

IDW Publishing Previews for 1-18-2017 So many great titles from IDW this week, and we have your early look at them all.

#comic books #comics #IDW Publishing #Preview

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