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Yandere Alphabet: Ren Hana

I just love that dude, mkay! He has me heart and soul! This is specifically BtD2 Ren, so yeah. Favourite route of that game! This got quite long, it´s around 6k because I thought I would try something else for this, and I´m actually quite happy how it turned out! Hilariously enough I started to write this, around January 2023 and just finished it (April 2024).

I´ll hope you will like it too, because it was already one of my favourite things to reread every once in a while! Have fun!

Ren Hana

He is insane. He hates you. He loves you. He lives only for you. He would kill you in a heartbeat. Full of contradictions he tends to be a rather mercurial character. You are the first one to know that. Did you maybe, just like me, hunt down every last line of dialogue, every last image in his route. He hides away from sight, and only catches you when he is sure, that he will be able to.

„Let´s be perfectly clear, shall we. The fox is not a little orange puppy dog with doe eyes and a waggly tail. It´s a disease-ridden wolf with the morals of a psychopath and the teeth of a great white shark.“ ~ Jeremy Clarkson

For he was truly raised, tortured and formed by a psychopath. By a sadist without any morals. And on you, this little fox will discover his sharp claws and great teeth once more.

„Beware the fox that makes the ravens fly“

Run little one, run. For you will be his prey.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

When Ren gets it into his head to shower you with affection, it can get quite uncomfortable rather quickly, as he tends to ignore any personal boundaries you ever tried to communicate. He is intense in the way his eyes track you, and in those moments you wonder how you could ever miss the way. that he is a clear predator. And in the next moment he pounces on you with a sweet giggle to simply share his warmth with you. Sometimes when you´re eating, his body is pressed close to yours, with no way left for you, so that you could escape from him. He will hold food up to your mouth, expecting you to take it. His eyes just daring you to refuse him, and with the way his other hand plays with something in his pocket, the threat is clear. Other days he will hand you something, and only give you a small moment to appreciate his gift, before he will pounce on you, nearly bowling you ever, and only his hands behind your head saving you from a concussion, as he demands his reward. Cuddling you on the floor, as he lowly purrs into your ear, his tail wrapping around your waist.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

On some days you will come to the painful realization, that Ren is more animal, than human. Those are definitely the days, he comes back home with blood still splattered all over his face, and the sound of something being dragged in behind him. It´s those days, when he calls for you to come with a playful uncanny trill in his voice, that makes listening to it so unpleasant. It´s those days, when he rips the still bleeding, still warm corpse apart in front of you. Sometimes off-handedly offering you a piece of flesh he just tore out of what had been a living breathing person moments before. On other days you will realize, that while he is clearly brutal, he holds you dear. At least, it´s what you need to believe, when he violently goes for the throat of that guy who tried to touch you when you refused, and then thought you would be more agreeable when he shakes you around. It´s what you whisper in the sudden quiet in your mind, when Ren comes to you. Blood dripping of his fangs and claws, and tenderly holds onto your bruised wrist. He is cooing at you, and the rapidly cooling body behind him, stares at you with unseeing eyes. You try to desperately believe what you tell yourself, as Ren carefully leads you away, humming slightly to calm you back down. It´s what you need to do, because you thought you saw accusations swimming in those dead eyes.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Ren does crave your love and your companionship more than anything else. So, in order to achieve that, he will try to be kind to you, after all that could help him earn what he wants. Right? He will be kind and accommodating, and his reward will be you. Though, when he realizes, that you still reject him, he won´t hesitate to be cruel to you in return. If you´re throwing everything, that he gave you simply away, well then he doesn´t need to give it to you in the first place. In the end your companionship can simply be achieved through obedience as well, no? When it comes down to it, he will mirror you. Throw back at you what you show him first. If you are kind, he will be as well. If you are cruel, he will be cruel. An almost perfect mirror, that will throw your own attitude back at you, but so much more dangerous than you could ever be.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Ren will force his need of skinship onto you, if you want to or not. The one time, that you struggled as if trying to free yourself, you stopped out of self-preservation when his grip grew tighter and tighter, making it hard to breathe for you. Sometimes he will come to you, to simply hold your face, gently tracing it´s shape, his claws nothing but a whisper on your skin. These are the things you could tolerate. The ones you can´t are when he shushes you, more growl than calming purr, when he pulls you down the stairs towards the basement. The smell of blood, already coming over you, and you already know what will await you. You don´t kick or scream, only sob quietly, hoping that you will not make him angry. His next shush comes with him, wiping away your tears. But you shiver in fright and disgust, when you see how he licks his hand clean afterwards. Chasing the taste of your tears on his fingers. Though, this is still the lesser evil, than the dead man walking, that will await you down there.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It would annoy you how much he talks with you, if he wasn´t the only one breaking the silence. And as long as he is chatty, he isn´t brooding either. He will talk about the most inconsequential things, throwing in stuff every once in a while that is so heartfelt, that it becomes jarring to you. You would hate how open he is with you, as if you aren´t a prisoner of his. You would maybe even react, if you didn´t knew, that he is still trying to gauge how much he can trust you with. And every time, he decides to trust you, you have to believe that this is a good thing. For your own sanity. Though you hate one specific time with a burning passion. It´s when he pulls you towards the couch, and pushes you into the pillows he already laid out. When he then stands up, to push a self-titeled disk, the ink already worn away in places, into the player. When he comes back to cuddle you, as you watch with horror living in your ribcage, how a man you never saw, but instinctively put at fault for your situation, ripping into another being with glee. When he whispers softly, about those day, when the body in the cooler, was still a man, and of all the things he did, as Ren watches you. When you wish he would just shut it all of, and he would be the only thing again, that is breaking the silence.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

The moment you try to use force against him, is also the moment you already lost. There is nothing left of the boy you knew, as the gentle cooing that haunts you in your nightmares, turns into a vicious growl, that is more fitting to belong there. You hit the ground hard, and your vision swims for a moment, till the growling suddenly become muffled. It takes a moment to pull yourself back to consciousness, and for you notice the claws sinking deeper into your shoulders, and the sharp pain, that comes from your neck, which gets so much worse, when Ren pulls back again. Blood dripping from his mouth onto your face, he gnashes his teeth at you. You don´t even scream, still numb from it all, when he pulls you down those dreaded stairs, to a place you never wish to set foot in, and yet visit time and time again. You know he will show how „kind“ he has been the whole time. He will hurt you like in those movies. But the only thing going through your mind, is the image of the pleasure he seemed to feel, when he licked your blood from his lips. Then you remember the heartless corpse downstairs. You scream.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Ren bristles when you ask him that. He can feel how his tail bushes up, and curls around you without him consciously willing it to happen. His teeth gnash together, as he squints at you. He only stops the growl that already started up somewhere deep in his chest, when he sees you flinch away from him. He huffs instead at you, and lets himself fall relaxed back onto you. He waits patiently for you to go back to carding your fingers through his hair as you had done, before asking this, quite frankly, offensive and stupid question, before he starts purring again. He doesn´t know who he is trying to calm down at this point. He wonders, if he has forgotten to show you how much he loves and adores you. His sweet, precious thing, that stays with him, that listens to him. You, who keeps that damn ghost, that still haunts him every day away. He wonders if he should tell you, that he wants you to stay with him for forever and ever and ever. Though, that might frighten you. So he simply nuzzles you, as he purrs softly, ignoring how you flinch away from him with practice.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You were careful. And o how careful you had to be, to not accidentally set him off. But you wanted him so badly to realize, that this was not how a relationship worked. He had mentioned time and time again, and yet you couldn´t quite believe it. And when you asked – gentle, careful, don´t anger him – he had looked at you funny, before grinning. A sly smirk, that reminded you rather suddenly, that you weren´t talking to a human. As if the ears and tails hadn´t clued you in. Though, this didn´t feel like the grin of a fox, more like a hungry wolf, as he contemplated out loud, that he was behaving rather strangely, at least to his kinds standards. After all, he was being patient and accommodating to your own behaviour till now, though, he could change if you wanted to. You shook your head, and instead thanked him. You knew he hadn´t lied.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He whispers his vision to you in the death of the night. His quiet voice, soothing were it only makes you so afraid. He paints a picture, that makes him sink deeper into the cushions, makes him feel safe and content, while you can do nothing but watch in horror. If you were just a bit more like him, you would be sure, that your hair would be standing upright with the terror chasing down your spine. Though, what he describes isn´t so far off, what he already has with you. Have you grown this complacent, to simply give in to his every wish? He wants to lay down with you, in the sun spots inside the house, side by side, curled around each other. And your hand just burrows deeper in his hair, careful to only scratch and not pull. His vision, is already your reality.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He knows that there is nothing for him to get jealous over. Where would you go? Who would you be able to turn to? If you ran, would you ever be able to run far enough? Or would he catch up to you before you knew it? He knows the answer to these questions. And they will never worry him, as much as you seem to worry about them. He knew he won. It´s once more proven to him, when he finds you kneeling by the door. Tears running down your face, spit slowly dabbling from your chin. Now and then a small jerk going through your body. Your eyes look vacant, as he walks past and opens the door for you. His victory only becomes more certain, when you turn away from the light, the breeze, with an anguished cry. What does he need to be jealous of?

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

His behaviour tends to closely mirror your own. He doesn´t seem to be aware of it most of time. At other points, it seems more than intentional. He repeats phrases, that you have said. His speech patterns begin to more closely resemble your own, the more time you spent with each other. Or do yours resemble his? It seems, that the two of you bleed more and more into the other, as time passed. Over time though, while you grew more and more subdued. He became louder. Where you grew into something, that cowers away. He became something, that would be impossible to miss. He mirrors you, but he plays into every extreme there is. Your melancholy becomes something loud and heart wrenching. Your happiness wraps into demented glee and shrieks of joy. Your gentle affection on his face turns into a punishing grip. Ren clings to you. He knows, that he is adapting to your personality, though where this might frighten you, it only brings him joy. He always knew, that you were the perfect fit for him. His perfect other half, and now he only got to prove it. He won´t let you go. Oh no. He never will. And why should he? With all the work he put in, to be your counterpart? He will cling to you till the end of time.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

You were bored, when he approached you. His soft voice nearly scared you half to death, when he started to talk to you. You hadn´t even heard him coming close. There was a sharp wit lacing his every word, as he waved your anxiousness away with a quiet humour twisting around his mouth. You and him talked nearly for the whole night. You were no longer bored. Drink after drink gets shared between the two of you, as dawn slowly comes around. You don´t even notice, when they start to taste funny. Maybe you simply drank too much? Your sudden tiredness is blamed on the late hour, and even when it feels like you can´t keep your eyes open any more and his smile is so full of sharp teeth. Maybe your fear was reasonable. Maybe you should have listened to that first instinctual response of absolute terror, when you noticed at first. These thoughts run slowly and languid through your mind, as he hoists you up over his shoulder, and simply walks out. No one stops him.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

There is a quiet confidence, you observe, that seems to find him in the strangest moments. His mood is quick to change. Laughter can turn into angry screams, faster than you can keep up with it most of the time. It´s no secret to you, that Ren is unstable. It´s also pretty obvious to you, that he is aware of that fact as well. Whenever he actually decides to take you outside, Good behaviour need to be rewarded dear, he has to concentrate. He can´t be too domineering over you, and so he falls back into patterns, that make him seem shy and unassuming. He knows, where those habits formed, and while he wouldn´t thank Strade for them, he still finds them useful for this. He knew what a charmer Strade was, just as he is now as well. A good trait to have, if one is like him. So he puts on the mask, that helps him to navigate the outside easily. Voice timid and shy. Never taking up more space, than he needs to. He basically vanishes into the background. It´s easy for him to watch every little move that you make. After all, you also tend to forget that he is here, whenever he gets like this.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

You don´t even know why he suddenly slams into you. Tearing you down to the ground with him. He is hovering above you, lips pulled back into a cruel snarl. Teeth gnashing and spit slowly dripping from the corners of his mouth. Right now he resembles more than ever, the violent and feral animal, that he always pretends not to be. There is the clinking of chains, as your breath only comes shortly. His teeth violently snap shut just inches from your face. When he speaks, a melodious hum, you can barely understand him, but the little you do frightens you. It freezes the blood in your veins, as you try to shake your head at him. Tears are already rolling down your face. He pats your face, then your head. His grip on the chain wrapped like a collar around your throat not loosening. He chuckles out But what a pretty star you would make. It would surely be my new favourite film. You can only cry harder, as you think of the man in cellar. You try to plead and beg with him, as he yanks you down the stairs. Your limbs kicking out in every direction, as you pull at the chain and try to stop him. The wooden steps bruise your back, and his laugh rings in your ears. When you swipe at him accidentally instead of the chain, his laughter stops. He doesn´t pay your terrified shrieking any mind, as he fished a little button from his pants pocket and presses down. You don´t really move, when he pulls at the leash again. Drool and spit slowly dribbling from your mouth, as fine tremors run through your body. You don´t even know what brought this on.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You wake up with a groan. You definitely drank too much last night. Your head pounds, and every little movement you make makes you wince. When you finally open your eyes, you don´t recognize the room. Carefully lifting the blanket you realize that you are only half-dressed. You can´t even remember how you got here. It takes you stumbling around the room, ripping open the curtains and seeing your reflection in the barred up windows to realize that there is something on your neck. It´s bulky and heavy, and no matter how much you fiddle with it, you can´t get it off. When the door suddenly opens, you nearly scream. The boy, red hair and kind of small, seems vaguely familiar to you, lets out a surprised yelp. His smile seems kind, but when he notices you still fiddling with the collar, his expression grows dark. It´s a low Stop that! that gives you a momentarily pause, before you ignore it. The next thing you know is pain. The boy holding a remote, as he comes to a stop standing over you. He crouches down next to you, a small smile playing around his lips, as he watches you drool and shake. There is a worried crease between his eyebrow, that you can´t help but feel like it´s fake. He pats your head, with a smile, as he licks his too sharp teeth. O this is gonna be fun. I love you so much my dear!

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

You looked at his hand, as if he would bite it off, when you took it. Come here, he crooned, curling his fingers in slowly. His patience was slowly running thin. You couldn´t see it from your position, but he had started to fiddle with the remote of your shock collar. He was contemplating to just shock you into complying with his simple request, but something about the way you looked at him – shaking, scared – stopped him. His patience was rewarded when you finally reached out for him, curling your fingers around his as he helped you up from the floor. He nuzzled close into your neck, and patted your hair. Good job, darling! So good for me~, he couldn´t help a little moan slipping out with the words. He led the way to the basement door, and opened it. Walking down the steps first, he sighed as he heard how your footsteps had stopped. With just one glance over his shoulder, he knew that this time you wouldn´t come that easy. It wasn´t fear and hesitance – both very under stable to him – that stopped you this time, but stubbornness. Without even hesitating, he pressed the button on his remote. Keeping it pushed down, only giving you short breaks to let you catch your breath, he grapped you by your shirt to drag your convulsing body down the stairs with him. Dropping you down at the pole, he leaned in close If I want something, you do it!, with that he tapped you on the nose, before standing up again.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You better hope and pray, that something else will kill you before he gets his hands on you. He stares down at the broken collar, then at his open front door. The laughter, that escapes him at this moment is strained. With a deep breath, he already knows where you went, and moves to follow you. The hunt is on. It was hard to get him to this point in your conversation, but maybe you actually got through to him. He looks at you with wet and wide eyes, before he suddenly sobs. Collapsing into your open arms, he burrows close to you. You try not to flinch, as his hands suddenly snake around your throat, but the click you hear, stuns you. We will meet each other again, right? Do this the right way again?, he asks as he gently puts the collar to the side. You can´t help yourself but to whisper a Of course! against his twitching ears. Blood covers his hands, his chest. He can feel how it already started to dry on his face, flaking off. This wasn´t supposed to happen. He didn´t intend to do this! Carefully, he pushed his hands beneath your body, to lift you up. He stumbles down the steps to the basement. It´s a bit of a fumble to get the lid open, but he finally manages it, as he lays you next to Strade. Huh. That looks almost cute. Flexing his claws, he tears open your chest cavity, and rips out your heart. As he bites into it, he gently closes your eyes, only to slide down to the floor and lean his back against the freezer. He starts to talk to you both. When he is finished, he will close the lid, and maybe watch a movie. Doesn´t he have something with you in it?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

It´s with a spring in his step, that he carries you out of the bar. He waves off the concerns of the other patrons, whispering instead in approachable manner Drank a bit too much, you know how it can be. The rancorous laughter than follows tells him, he hit the right tone. He has to adjust you once or twice, hefting you higher up on his shoulder. The same lie becomes easier for him to tell over time. Such a good boy, one older lady comments, and he can´t help but giggle to himself. His hands only start to shake with adrenaline, after he deposited you on the bed, he had prepared for a guest. He fumbles with the collar, that he became very familiar with under Strade, before he gently clicks it around your neck. Carefully he adjusts, so that it won´t be uncomfortable for you to wear. It is with a smile, that he removes your shoes and jacket. He wonders if he should remove your jeans as well, before deciding that they must be terrible to sleep in. He hums lightly as he unbuttons them. His hands hovering over your body. Still asleep, the drugs he had put in your drink, still doing their job. He smiles, as he pulls the blanket over you. Shuts the curtain of the barred up window, and with a smile as he looks back at you, closes the door. It would have been nice, if you would have come to him, but this is perfect as well. He is giddy, as he runs down to the basement, to tell Strade about what happened today.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He suppressed the instinctual snarl, the gnashing of his teeth, as another stranger bumped into him. Instead, he forced his lips into a kind smile. Holding tightly onto the mask, that let him seem like any other person in this bar. His skin was itching for blood and it had become such an overwhelming need to him, that he couldn´t tell any more if it was his instinct or his experience urging him to get blood to flow. He let his eyes sweep over the bar, when something suddenly drew all his attention. Your were just sitting there, looking at your drink as if it held all the answers to this world. Flinching away from every stranger, that would press themselves to close past you. A look of disgust openly on your face, when some would come to touch you in the process. It was almost cute to watch. Ren could feel his tail slowly swaying behind him, this could be a chance for him to pretend to be normal. After all, it looked like you wouldn´t even be able to tell the difference anyway. Something in him was still screaming for blood. It felt like a physical ache in his fangs and claws, and his ears twitched to take in every little sound you made, as he slowly stalked towards you. But there was something else as well. A ghost of someone – long dead, his heart gone – urging him forward with a gentle smile to reel you in. It wanted to see you cry. He shivered in delight as he imagined for a moment, what you would look like on your knees, face bloody and bruised, tears still streaking down your face, and mixing with your spit, as it dribbled down you chin and onto his old collar and your eyes wide as you looked only at him. He knew this would be fun, when he saw you flinch, when he greeted you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

His ears perked further up, when he heard a faint sobbing coming from your room. For a moment he wondered, if he should lock the knife away, before shutting the stove off, and simply leaving it on the cutting board. Wiping his hands on a towel, he made his way to you. Gently knocking on the door frame, he announced his presence to you, as he had already made his way halfway into the room. He ignored your muffled Go away!, and sat down next to you on the bed. There, there he hushed you, as his claws gently carded through your hair. He busied himself with pulling some of the knots out, and pulling the matted parts gently apart, completely ignoring your wince or how you tried to pull away from him. When he deemed you decently groomed – as he would sometimes term it with a laugh on his face – he dropped down onto your bed next to you. Pulling you to lay on his chest, he hugged you close. He was still petting you, as he slowly dozed off. Dinner could wait for a bit longer.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

There is doubt in his heart, whenever he sees you cry. He is sure that you are his, in every shape and form that matters, but to see you cry breaks his heart every time. Maybe it would be better, when the two of you would part ways. Maybe it would be better of he could simply watch you from far away, instead if staying constantly by your side. Or maybe he should just make sure, that you stay forever with him. Heart by heart. No matter how bloody it would be. You recognize easily, that while Ren tends to be a bit overbearing, he never seems to touch you longer than he needs to. You caught him countless times staring at your mouth, only to laugh and blush when he realizes that you noticed it. His hands only ever seem to land on skin that is covered by clothing, or at least his touch never seems to demand more. It´s strange you think, idly watching how he is staring at you again slowly licking his lips, how he never acts on his desires. Almost as if he doubts himself.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

It´s when he gently kisses your forehead, as he tucks you in for the night, that you finally realize something. For all his bluster, for all the pain he causes you, he also always turns rather quickly back into a facsimile of kindness. He amps it up for you, when ever it seems that you´re playing into his delusions. You might loose yourself in them, but you have nothing else to loose any more. So you try it. And suddenly it seems that this vicious fox is at your every beg and call. You don´t ask about the basement or the screams and he never threatens to take you down there any more. You compliment his cooking and suddenly food seems something you never seem to lack. You never step into hall for the door outside, and he wants to take you on a thousand walks. You even stop fiddling with your collar and with time forget that it´s still active. He will give you everything that he can. You shall lack nothing, not even your freedom. He is of service to you. Especially now, that he can have this soft life with you, that he had always dreamt of.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Sometimes Ren watches you with such a cold calculating look in his eyes, that you can´t help but shiver. You know, that in those moments he is debating with himself. His grin sharpening, while he flexes his claws. As if he can´t quite decide if he should rip your throat out with his fangs or his claws. As if it would matter in the end. Your blood would be on his hands either way. In the end, he will relax again. He knows, just as well as you do, that there will come another opportunity for him to let go of his pent up aggression. Another misstep of you, which allows him to have a go at you, without feeling all guilty about it afterwards. You overstepping the bounds, he always lays so carefully out for you. And if you fight back, he might even get a taste of that precious blood of yours.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He loves, loves, loves you! From the moment, he first saw you, when you so trustingly, so full of blind faith, drunk the glass he gave to you, he knew it. He knew you would be perfect for him. He wants you to be there, by his side, for the rest of your lives, and he swears to himself, that he will do whatever it takes to make sure, that he can ensure, that your paths will not lead apart. He wants you to be there so badly, that he reassures himself, that the end will surely justify the means. Though, he will still very much react to the way you treat him. He will pull get you the moon if you so much as wish for it, but he also wants to make you aware, that all of this doesn´t come for free. He wants his love to be reciprocated by you, and he makes it abundantly clear to you as well. Otherwise, he won´t mind training you like a wild animal to simply love him. Hey, if it works, it works, right?

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He had already talked with you for so long, and know he was nearly shaking with excitement. The bar was quiet, nearly deserted as was the usual for The Jackalope, and he knew nobody would watch him too closely here. He waited with bathed breath for you to finally arrive, as he had finally managed to weasel the promise of a real meeting from you. The bottle of Rohypnol in his back pocket, that he tucked away, when leaving already told him how this night would go. Tonight, he would make sure, that he wouldn´t be alone any more, that the ghost would hopefully stop hounding his every step, as another person would fill this empty house once more. He just has to be patient, just has to be careful. Buy a drink, crush one or two, and then bring it back, with an innocent smile. He could do this. His eyes snapped upwards, as an angel walked in, and a sly smirk, quickly a gentle smile curved his lips, as he stood up and waved towards you. He would do this.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Ren will, if all else fails, scare you into compliance. He will hold out for as long as he can for a relationship for the two of you, like the ones in his stories. But if it all falls through, he will be satisfied with Stockholm syndrome setting in one day. And while he stills hope for that, showing kindness to you whenever he can without undermining himself, he shudders at the other options. Sometimes, not that he would ever tell you of it, he thinks about how he could break you apart. Though, he will think of what might follow in the end. He realizes rather quickly, that he would never want to see you break. He saw it too often. How only a shell it left, a hollow puppet that doesn´t respond any more. When he looks at you, he can never imagine being satisfied like that, and so he nourishes his hope, and makes kindness is weapon. He will get what he want, without breaking you. He just has to be a bit more patient.

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hockeyboysimagines · 3 months

Text

So far from the stars

Chapter 1

Pairings: Jeremy Swayman x Courtney Sullivan

Warnings: language, angst, kissing, alcohol/bars.

No summary because this one is written on the fly! Enjoy. Shoutout to my dear friend @cellythefloshie for sharing her goalie bf with me in light of recent events. If you guys haven’t visited her profile and read her stuff, you’ve been living under a rock.

“Do you wanna get drinks or something tomorrow night?”

Courtney glanced up from her spot on the couch to where Jeremy was sitting and smiled at him.

Most days she felt like the luckiest girl maybe ever to have him in her life. He was sweet, and thoughtful and one of her closest friends, and had been for years. There was really only one issue with their friendship.

He was madly in love with her and she had no idea.

He thought he made it obvious but she either didn’t want to recognize it or truly just didn’t have a clue. It was tough. He felt like his heart was constantly breaking when he saw her go on dates, or someone flirt with her at the bar. Sometimes he just wanted to grab her, shake her, get down on one knee and profess his love for her, but he was too afraid of what might happen when he did. So he would go back to secretly pining, and hanging on her every word, being the best friend he could be until she saw him otherwise.

He didn’t hold it against her, but it had made him a little bit bitter. Anytime they went out together he ended up being in a foul mood by the first time some douche got the courage to go near her. He wasn’t surprised, she was gorgeous and would be anywhere, but in Alaska she was out of everyone’s league.

Including his.

He couldn’t help it though, his feelings were now too big to ignore and he wasn’t sure what else he could do about it. He wouldn’t tell her, he couldn’t, risk losing her friendship if it completely weirded her out. So he would keep it to himself hoping that she would one day feel the same about him.

But he wasn’t holding his breath, because by the time she realized it he might be dead.

“Sure.” She said, smiling sweetly at him. He felt his face get red and his heart fluttered just a little bit.

He felt so stupid and lame every time and if he could he would kick himself in his own ass for how much of an idiot he made of himself around her, but he couldn’t help it.

She was special.

He smiled back trying to keep his cool “Really?”

“Yeah?” She frowned and ember eyebrows knitted tightly “Why wouldn’t I wanna hang out with my best friend?”

Best friend.

Most people would love to hear that, it would make them fuzzy inside.

But it made him sick.

He loved being her best friend, but it wasn’t enough for him anymore. He wanted to be another word that started with a B and ended with a friend, and the only friend he was right now was the friend zone, and by now he’d been there so long he was beginning to grow roots.

“I don’t know. Just wasn’t sure if you had something better to do. It is Friday after all.”

“If I had something better to do I would be out doing it.” She winked and he coughed to cover up the nervous giggle that would escape if he didn’t.

She glanced back down at her phone and started reading him a story from her phone. One of his favorite things to do was listen to her read out loud. She was so well spoken and articulate and her voice warmed his soul. At the moment, she was reading him a story about mysterious disappearances and even though it would surely give him nightmares, he would listen till his ears bled, because only she could make it sound so good.

The light was shining right on her, reflecting off her long soft hair, eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks as she spoke. He often found himself just openly staring at her, completely zoned out from everything around him. Their friend group, who all knew how he felt, made fun of him for it but he didn’t care. But it made him wonder how other people could see his feelings and she couldn't.

“Pretty crazy right?” She turned to look at him.

“What? Oh yeah. Brutal.”

“Better not be rude to me ever again.” She smiled mischievously “This is giving me lots of ideas.”

He rolled his eyes “You would never.”

She laughed and smiled at him “Your right. I could never go on without you.” She stretched out and rested her legs across his lap and gave him a nudge “Rub my ankles. I have another story for you.”

If a stranger had walked through her door right now, they would think they were a couple. They looked like one.

Why were they not a couple.

He let his hand move up her ankle, down her socked foot and back up, fingers grazing her skin as he did. She gave a little shiver and continued to read to him, legs pressing up against his, sending a wave of heat through him.

Sometimes he hated his life.

**********

Thursday ended and Friday afternoon drug on agonizingly slow.

Left to his own devices, by 3 pm he was lying on his back staring at his ceiling thinking as usual, about Courtney.

He did this every morning, and every night before bed.

He couldn’t believe how big his feelings were sometimes. He had always felt hard to ignore emotions when it came to her but they’d been magnified more in the last year than ever before.

In high school, he assumed it was teenage infatuation and he’d grow out of them due to her stupid boyfriend Brad. When he didn’t he figured they’d go away if he met someone else. When that didn’t work he was absolutely sure that Boston would take those feelings away.

But if anything, his first day back in Alaska had magnified his feelings times 2.

And now he was here, daydreaming about a girl who thought they were just friends.

He was a real idiot.

He closed his eyes and went over it in his head again for what seemed like the millionth time.

In high school, they’d met in freshman English. He’d nearly failed, and she had been the only reason he’d made it out. Their school was relatively small so it didn’t take long for them to become friends and eventually close friends. Halfway through freshman year they had their own blended friend group, and that’s when the feelings started. Small at first, just an occasional flutter in his stomach around her now and again. But the time they were sophomores, they were pretty prominent and obvious.

Or so he thought.

He figured that by the end of the year she’d realize how he felt and with fingers crossed she too would feel the same.

But then Sophomore year came and went, and he was still wasting away in the friend zone.

Junior year was gonna be his year. They’d spent all summer together with their friends, he’d gotten a little bit bolder with his hints, and he was positive she knew now. He bounced out of bed on the first day of a school and walked into the front doors like a gladiator walking into the coliseum. And there was was with Brad.

What the fuck.

He didn’t even know Brad but he hated him and didn’t hide it. He spent all of junior year doing anything and everything he could to make his feelings go away and nothing worked. He’d even had a girlfriend.

In fact he’d had two.

But it didn’t work.

And when she’d shown up at his house crying because she found that Brad also had two girlfriends, he wanted to scream, cry and praise the gods and shake Brad’s hand for giving him one last chance.

But when he realized how hurt she actually was, he knew it wouldn’t be right to try and begin something with her when she was upset about the end of something else. It also made him realize he wanted to punch Brad in the face.

They’d become closer than ever that summer, and slowly she started to heal from it. He was very gentle with her, starting out with small hints, lots of support, and being everything she needed. Not just because he liked her in a romantic way, but because he wanted to be what she needed him to be. He wanted to be that guy for her.

And it hadn’t worked anyway.

He left for Maine and just gave up. He didn’t see the point in continuing to get his hopes up when it clearly wasn’t meant to be. He wasn’t going to force a relationship with her before it was supposed to happen, if it would ever. They’d stayed friends, talked almost everyday, and were always hanging out when he came home but that’s where it stalled.

And now he was here. In the same spot he’d been for what seemed like ages, kicking himself because he had so many chances to come out and say it and never did.

He felt his phone vibrating and reached around for it, seeing it was Justin and rolled his eyes knowing he was about to endure another round of being made fun of “Hello.”

“Don’t sound so excited. What are you doing?”

“Sitting here listening to this really annoying sound. What are you doing?”

“Ha ha. Let’s do something tonight.”

“I can’t-I-I’m going out with Courtney for drinks.” He was quiet and then continued “Go ahead. Make fun.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you. It’s not funny anymore, just a little sad.”

“Fuck off.”

Justin chuckled on the other end of the phone “Just tell her buddy. You’re gonna feel so much better when you do.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” He said flatly.

His friends and hers, which were the only other girls in the group besides herself, didn’t seem to understand his hesitation. It seemed so simple to them, and maybe it was and he was overthinking it. They had this fantasy that she would realize she liked him and they’d live happily ever after, but he wasn’t too sure.

“So this is like a date?”

“What? No I don’t think so…why would you ask me that?”

“Well I don’t know. I mean usually we do something as a group and now you two are hanging out alone without the group.”

He frowned and looked at the light above his bed “So?”

“So… I’m just saying it seems like you guys have been hanging out by yourselves a lot.”

He frowned and looked back at the ceiling “Does that mean it’s a date?”

“No….but it doesn’t mean it’s not a date either.”

He sat upright nearly dropping his phone “Your right it does and I have to-“

“Woah woah woah. Don’t get ahead of yourself I-“

“Too late gotta go bye.” He hung up amidst the protesting from the other end of the phone and chucked it on his bed, not bothering to pick it up when it bounced and hit the floor, rushing to the bathroom to shower.

45 minutes later he found himself parking his car, and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the steering wheel.

He had no idea what he was doing.

He had been running on pure adrenaline at the idea that this may have been a date, even though he really has no clue if it was or not. He feared he was getting himself hyped up again for no reason, and yet he couldn’t help it.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled.

You can do this.

He opened the door, and made his way in, thankful that it wasn’t overly crowded and looked around for her. She was sitting at the bar already, phone in hand, jacket slung over the back of the stool.

She turned and spotted him, hair sliding across her back catching the light “Hey!” She hopped off her barstool and made her way to him, pulling him into a hug.

“Hey.” He smiled and ran a hand up her back as she hugged him tightly, and smiled a little because he was the envy for a minute of every guy in the bar, all of whom were looking at her as she hugged him.

She was smiling a mile wide and jerked her head back “Come on I saved you a spot.” She reached for his hand and pulled him forward. He glanced down at her hand wrapped up in his and felt a flush come to his face.

SHE’S HOLDING MY HAND

She looked incredible. She always did, but something about the way she looked today made all those other days seem like nothing. And then He realized he said that to himself every time he saw her.

He followed her towards two bar stools and sat down next to her, asking the bartender for a beer. She had a glass of amber liquid with ice on a coaster in front of her. He ordered a beer and turned to her, feeling bold.

“You look nice.”

She glanced down and then back up “Me?”

“No that guy over there. Of course I mean you.”

“Thanks.” She looked at him confused and he frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing you’ve just…never said that to me before.”

“I haven’t? Well I should. Someone should always tell you that.” He realized how lame that sounded and quickly changed the subject “You want a shot?”

She made a face “Ehhhh. I didn’t know this was a shot kind of evening.”

“I mean if you can’t handle a shot it’s fine.” He smiled a little and turned to see her raise her eyebrows.

“I can handle a shot.”

“Mmmmm I don’t think you can.” He said, giving her a sideways glance.

She grinned slowly “Sounds a little bit like a challenge. You’re on.”

Drink for drink, shot for shot they went, talking and laughing like always. Having conversations with him was one of her favorite things about him.

“I mean I have Kasey and Veronica, but that’s the extent of my girlfriends. You know that.”

He shrugged “Who needs girlfriends when you have someone like me?”

She laughed and leaned forward on the bar, the back of her shirt riding up a little. He felt his face get warm and looked anywhere but at her.

“I mean it would be nice. Then you wouldn’t be forced to hang out with me all the time.”

He scoffed “Hanging out with you is the best part of my day.”

“No-“

“No it is. I’m serious!” He said when she looked at him skeptically “We always have a good time don’t we?”

“I mean of course always have a good time.”

“And anyways I think after everything that’s gone down with some of your girl friends, it’s better that you keep the ones you have and don’t get anymore.”

He was talking about Annie, Brads other girlfriend, who had once been her friend. She had never quite gotten over the betrayal.

“True. Still can’t believe she did that.”

“I can.” He glanced at her and cleared his throat “I didn’t like her from the start. She was a horrible friend. But I never thought she’d do that. Did she ever tell you why?”

“Nope.” She took a sip of her drink before she continued “ I never asked but I’ve always wondered and I’m really not sure. Why do you think she did it?”

He shrugged and rubbed the stubble on his chin “I don’t know. Being too nice, too beautiful? Girls can be pretty jealous.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed “Well that can’t be true. I don’t think I’m that nice and I’m definitely not too beautiful-“

“I think you’re HOT.” He said loudly cutting her off and leaning forward.

The alcohol had numbed his senses and loosened him up more than she’d ever seen him. Things he wouldn’t normally say to her were coming out, and she kind of liked it. Even though they’d known each other for a long time he was still a little bit shy with her. But this was a whole new Jeremy.

“Really?” She said raising an eyebrow.

“Come on. You know you are.”

She shrugged “I don’t really think about that stuff, and even if I am it’s never gotten me anywhere.” She paused and then smiled a little “Except on dates with every idiot in Anchorage.”

“Not on any dates with me.” He said taking a sip of his drink and eyeing her.

She raised her eyebrows surprised “Are you calling yourself an idiot? Or saying you wanna date me?”

“Both?”

She squinted at him, wondering for a minute if she was having a dream. But she was fairly sure this was a real conversation she was having with him and she didn’t get how they ended up here.

He had never once alluded to wanting anything to do with her romantically. In fact, they had never even talked about significant others with each other until now.

He took a sip of his drink and pulled the hat he was wearing off his head and turned it backwards and she felt her stomach do a little flutter. He turned to her and smiled “You seem surprised.”

“I had no idea.” She wasn’t lying he could tell. She looked genuinely surprised and he believed her. She wouldn’t have looked so shocked if she’d known, and to put on an act wasn’t something she’d do, and he knew she would have let him down easy long before now if she had known. She was a nice girl, and wouldn’t put him or anyone else through that.

“That’s because-I’ve never told you.”

“But why?” She leaned closer to him, hair spilling over her shoulder and brushing his arm.

“Because…I was too scared.” He said shrugging, and turning to face her fully She had her chin resting on her hand looking at him puzzled.

“Of what? Me?”

He rolled his eyes “Yeah just like everyone else we know. And every guy we went to high school with. And random guys passing by. And-“

“Okay okay I get it.” She said with a giggle but she waved him off “Even if that’s true, my point still stands.”

He shrugged “Maybe you just aren’t looking in the right places.” But when he turned to her he saw that she was looking at him and smiled “Or maybe you are.”

She turned her head to the side “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Like 5 years ago earlier.” She asked chewing on her bottom lip.

“Like I said I was afraid and you had that stupid boyfriend in highschool, what was his name?”

“Brad. He was stupid. You could have saved me from all that drama if you had told me.” She drummed her nails on the bar and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He paused, bottle halfway to his mouth “What?”

“If you had told me I wouldn’t have dated him.”

“You-you would have dated me?” He pointed at himself in disbelief.

You DUMBASS. He thought to himself. He’d missed a chance years ago because he was apparently just as stupid as Brad.

“Is there a reason I wouldn’t have? I broke up with him summer before senior year and before that things already weren’t great.”

“So I had a whole year. I’m so stupid.” He leaned his forehead on the palm of his hand and let out a breath.

“Nah.” She stirred her drink and shook her head “I was the stupid one then. I spent senior year alone because of some idiot who cheated on me with Annie White in the hockey team’s bus during 6th period.”

He chuckled a little and shook his head “You have no clue the things that went on on that bus. And think about it this way, maybe she caught Chlamydia or something.”

She smiled but made a face “Ew! That would have made me feel a little bit better I guess. It doesn’t matter now though, and I’m glad I wasn’t more invested because it could have hurt a whole lot worse.”

“You guys dated a year though. You weren’t invested?”

“Were you invested when you dated Ashley for a year? Or Carissa?”

“No….But I wasn’t invested for a different reason. Why weren’t you?”

She shrugged “I don’t know. No one ever really liked Brad, and I just didn’t see it going anywhere. By the time I found out about the other women it was time to move on. Still hurt though.”

“I wanted to beat him up for that you know. And I would have too if he didn’t transfer schools.”

She chuckled “Nah. He wasn’t worth it.”

“Hey.” He leaned forward and put a hand on her wrist “It would have been worth it to me.”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes traveling down his face to his mouth and the back up to his eyes. The air seemed to freeze as he saw his window of opportunity closing, and leaned forward slowly.

“LAST CALL!” He jumped and nearly tipped over his chair, startled by the yell of the bartender and felt a blinding rage fly though him.

God DAMNIT

He wanted to scream as she straightened up, cheeks a little flushed and turned to finish her drink.

“What’s my tab?” She asked the guy pushing the glass back to him.

“45.70.”

“I got it.” Jeremy said tossing down money. She turned and smiled.

“Thanks but you don’t have to-“

“I do. Come on. Let me take you home.” Before she could protest or do anything else he boldly reached for her hand and pulled her along behind him through the bar.

By the time they made it to her front door she’d tripped twice and he’d knocked over a plant. He was now leaned against the side of her house giggling as she struggled to get the key in the lock.

“It’s stuck I can’t-“ she said in between laughs as she attempted to put the key in upside down.

“Here let me-“ he reached for key and unlocked it clumsily over her shoulder, just as she leaned forward on it, and it sprung open.

“Oof!” She said air escaping her lungs as they fell in the door, dissolving into laughter as they both stumbled forward, catching themselves on furniture. Her vision was a little bit blurred and her face felt like it was on fire, but she was having so much fun with him she never wanted the night to end.

“Wait wait wait I’ll help you hang on.” He reached for the couch to pull himself up and extended a hand to help her. She stood and immediately started to fall forward and would have if he hadn’t caught her. Her smiled was wide, stretched across her face, cheeks red, hair caught in the collar of her jacket as she straightened up, resting a hand on his arm to steady herself.

“I’m having so much-fun.” She looked up to see how close he was to her, hands holding her by the elbows, his front pressed almost against hers. His smile had started to slip from his face very slowly as he stared at her and the rest of the living room melted away.

“Jeremy.” She said softly eyes piercing his own.

Before he could answer she leaned forward and pushed her lips against his, resting them there momentarily until he gathered himself and started kissing her back.

It was everything he thought it would be, everything he’d been hoping for, and thinking about for so long it made his heart hurt. He wondered for a second if he was dreaming, like he did often but when she gripped the front of his jacket and pulled him closer he knew it was real.

He felt dizzy as they stood kissing in her living room, feeling like he was levitating as he backed her up against the wall, to steady himself more than anything, pulling away for a second before moving back in at a different angle.

She was kissing him back slowly, and for a second he had worried that she would recoil, but instead she tugged at his jacket, pulling it down his shoulders and tossing it to the side.

He ran his thumb across a sliver of skin on her hip that wasn’t covered by her shirt and she shivered a little. He was so warm as she pulled him against her, big hands holding her hips tightly. If she had known he’d be this good at kissing she would have kissed him years ago.

She reached behind her, hand smacking around looking for the doorknob to her bedroom and fumbled with it, finally opening it and stumbling inside with him. She pulled her own jacket off, letting it hit the floor and they landed on the bed, breaking apart only for a second before he bent down to kiss her again. He was slotted between her legs, one hand braced on the mattress by her head, and the other tangling in her hair. She reached between them, unbuttoning her jeans, and then reaching for his and he lost track of what he was doing for a second, as she sprung the button and pulled down the zipper. His heart was clocking around so loud he could feel it in his ears, and he wondered if she could too.

She pulled his shirt up, tugging it over his head, and lifting her self up so he could pull hers off. He’d never seen her unclothed and he felt himself get red again. She gripped the chain he was wearing and pulled him back down, tongue pushing into his mouth. Her nails scraped his kin as the moved down his sides to his lower back, pulling his pelvis forward against hers. He let out a breath and pulled back a second to collect his thoughts, and felt her hand gently pat his shoulder.

Her eyes were shut and she swallowed, one hand patting her chest.

“You okay?” He asked from above her, breathing heavily, chest heaving.

“Hmmmm I just need a second-I need.” Her eyes still closed and she took a deep breath. He leaned back to look at her as her eyes slid open and she covered her mouth.

“Can you get me water?” She asked softly eyes closing again “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Yeah sure hang on.” He stood, and buttoned his jeans, and made his way shirtless through her house, getting her water and hurrying back to her bedroom. But when he turned the corner he saw she was asleep.

His head fell forward against the door frame, and he let out a whispered, frustrated “Fuck!”, eyes closed as he pounded his fist softly on the wall.

Why was the universe doing this to him?

He turned to look at her, jeans unbuttoned, shirt missing, on her side sleeping peacefully and pursed his lips.

With a small sigh he quietly made his way to her dresser, finding clothing and very gently pulling off her boots, and jeans redressing her in something more comfortable that didn’t smell like a dive bar. He didn’t even look at her while he did, because it would have been wrong to do while she was out cold like that. He covered her up, and sat next to her a second, pushing a lock of hair off her cheek.

Gosh he loved her so much. So much that he was doing what most guys wouldn’t and was walking away from the only chance he might have with her.

But he wanted her to want it when she was sober and clearheaded, not drunk. He sighed and stared out her window. It was so frustrating to be him sometimes.

There was one picture that caught his eye. It was them, taken just recently, her arms wrapped around him, smiling widely. She had her head resting against his chest hugging him like her life depended on it.

Looking at that picture made it seem like she liked him. It just made sense. They looked great together if he did say so himself.

It just wasn’t fair.

And he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. It had been years at this point and he never saw a light at the end of the tunnel, until tonight and even that was beginning to grow darker.

He felt stupid and lame and wanted to punch himself, but instead he pulled the blankets up further, took one last look at her and left her room, made his way through her house and locked the door behind him.

84 notes · View notes

voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

transition — jeremy gilbert x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, crying, blood, vampire!reader, hunter!jeremy — hurt/comfort

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: after getting bit by a salvatore brother, you go to the only place you can find comfort, and jeremy's forced to make a choice

✧.*

the night air was thick with tension as you stumbled down the tenebrous road, clutching your bleeding arm and gasping for air. the memory of damon's piercing gaze and the searing pain of his bite was still fresh, sending waves of agony through your veins with every faltering step. the stars above seemed to mock your suffering, their distant glimmers indifferent to the torment that had befallen you.

“i need to eat, (y/n), you know that,” his voice remained steady as he stood behind you, hand wrapped around your throat as he tilted your head to the side, giving him all the leverage he needed. he tried to ignore the way you clawed desperately at his wrist, the way your sobs made his chest feel heavy. “think of it as a gift, sunshine.”

you knew the risks, as did he—he ignored the way his vampiric venom clashed with your fresh would. you screamed, despite his rough hand clasped over your mouth, muffling the sounds. “i do hope you'll forgive me, (y/n).”

each heartbeat throbbed like a war drum in your ears, a relentless reminder of your fragile mortality. tears welled up, blurring your vision as you staggered, the world spinning around you. the darkness pressed in from all sides, suffocating, as you desperately clung to consciousness.

the familiar silhouette of the gilbert house emerged through the haze of your pain. It stood like a beacon of solace, a place where you had always found refuge. your heart raced as you stumbled up the steps, your fingers fumbling for the doorknob. it was almost impossible to get there—you were sobbing as you crawled, back hunched as the blood continued to pour down your neck. it was truly more than you had bargained for. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior, a sanctuary from the horrors that haunted you.

your trembling legs carried you through the threshold, and the door creaked shut behind you. the scent of old books and wood polish enveloped you, a comforting embrace that momentarily eased the anguish in your body. but the solace was fleeting, replaced by the harsh reality of your condition.

a sob tore from your lips as you sank to the floor, the pain becoming too much to bear. the wooden panels were cold against your feverish skin, the contrast jarring and yet oddly grounding. the room seemed to sway, the edges blurring as your vision wavered between darkness and light.

“hello? is someone there?” jeremy's voice echoed through the house, slicing through the haze of your agony. your heart skipped a beat as his figure appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him. his gaze locked onto yours, concern and confusion warring in his expression.

“(y/n)? what happened?” he rushed to your side, his hands hovering uncertainly over your trembling form. the proximity of his touch sent shivers down your spine, a stark reminder of the vulnerability you felt. “it was damon, i swear i didn't want this,” your voice wavered, the words escaping in broken fragments as you struggled to convey the horror of the encounter. jeremy's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as understanding dawned upon him. the gash on your neck continued to bleed profusely, the skin around it beginning to bruise heavily. jeremy felt his heart in his stomach for a second—he had expected absolutely everything, just not this.

“stay here,” he commanded, his voice laced with determination as he disappeared from your sight. moments later, he returned with a first aid kit, his hands surprisingly steady as he tended to your wound. the sensation of his touch was both gentle and grounding, a lifeline amidst the chaos. his fingers worked carefully, cleaning up the blood that sought no end, his gentle touch balancing out the stinging pain. he cleaned the wound carefully, but he had no way to get the venom out—unable to ease the pain that began to stir within you.

as the pain began to ebb, just a bit, your tears subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache. you gazed up at keremy, your eyes searching his for answers, for a way out of this nightmare. his brows furrowed, a conflicted expression marring his features.

“you know i have a choice to make here,” jeremy admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his tone gentle. he sat beside you, holding your shaky hand as he watched you, heart churning at the sight of you crying. quiet sobs wracked your body as you trembled, seeking solace in his touch. he pulled you in closer, arms wrapped around you trembling body as he buried his face in your hair. “you shouldn't have come here, (y/n). you know what my job is.”

the weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the crossroads that had been thrust upon him. your heart ached at the torment he faced, torn between his duty and his emotions. the room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your breaths grew ragged. quiet apologies left your mouth as you held onto him just a little bit tighter. yes, jeremy cared for you in ways you could never imagine, but he also cared for the duties that were so clearly laid out for him.

“jeremy, please,” you begged, your voice raw with desperation. the pain had reached a new height, your wound beginning to flow freely once more. tears spilled down your cheeks as you held onto him, salty liquid staining his white shirt. “i can't go on like this. if there's no other way, just kill me.”

his gaze bore into yours, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within. you sobbed quietly, the pit of your stomach churning from the hunger you were feeling. it clashed with the pain altogether, the sensitivity—as if you'd gone days without a bite to eat. and then, with a decision as painful as it was selfless, he shook his head. "no, i won't let you go like that." he hesitated for a moment before extending his wrist toward you. “if you're willing, take my blood. it might give you another option.”

your heart raced at the proposition, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. but in his eyes, you found a glimmer of hope, a lifeline you couldn't ignore. with trembling hands, you grasped his shirt, frail fingers pulling yourself off to lock eyes with him. he stared at you with pity in his gaze, a soft smile on his face as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “i couldn't kill you if i wanted to,” he admitted, voice soft and gentle like you were used to. he cupped your cheeks, leaning in to place a kiss to your forehead. “we're gonna fix this, okay? you have to feed off me.”

as the world around you blurred, jeremy's presence remained steadfast, a guiding light in the darkness. you nodded, but you hesitated. he encouraged you, seating you on his lap to bring you in closer, exposing his neck, showing the same place damon had attacked you. you were careful, body shaking, the only source of comfort being the way his hands held your waist, pressing your chest into his to calm you down. when you bit him, no matter how much you wanted to satisfy your hunger, you were careful. the way he touched you gave you all the control in the world and when you finally sank you fangs into his skin, relishing in the metallic taste as his grip tightened, the pain began to recede, replaced by a strange euphoria that seemed to wash over you in waves. the transition was a tumultuous symphony of sensations, a metamorphosis that reshaped your very essence.

qnd through it all, jeremy was there, his gaze unwavering, his touch a steady anchor. “that's a good girl, just like that,” he shushed you, stroking your hair as his grip on your eaist had begun loosening. as you emerged from the chrysalis of transformation, weak but alive, you found yourself gazing into his eyes once more. the depth of emotion within them was undeniable, a testament to the bond that had been forged amidst the trials.

“i'm so sorry,” you whispered, your hinger temporarily satisfied. he shook his head, a soft smile on his face as he brought you in for a warm hug. “you should've done your job, jer, i'm so sorry.”

jeremy's arms enveloped you in a gentle embrace, his touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. the taste of his blood still lingered on your lips, a constant reminder of the sacrifice he had made to save you from the abyss. his warm smile held a depth of understanding and compassion that eased the weight of guilt that had settled within you.

“it's not your fault,” he whispered, his voice a comforting reassurance. “none of this was your doing. i made a choice, and i stand by it.”

your breath caught as his words seeped into your consciousness, the intensity of his gaze stripping away your defenses. his unwavering support was a lifeline, a connection that anchored you to the present amidst the tumult of change.

“i can't help but feel responsible,” you admitted, your voice laced with vulnerability. “you had to go through this because of me.”

jeremy's thumb brushed away a stray tear that had escaped your eye, his touch gentle and tender. “i've seen enough pain and loss in my life to know that sometimes, sacrifices are necessary. what matters is that you're here, and we'll face whatever comes together.”

the weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, wrapping you in a cocoon of acceptance and understanding. the bond that had been forged between you was unbreakable, a testament to the trials you had overcome and the connection that had deepened as a result.

as you gazed into his eyes, the remnants of your former self mingled with the newness of your vampire nature. the journey ahead was uncertain, marked by challenges and discoveries you couldn't yet fathom. but in his presence, you found the strength to face whatever came your way, together.

“thank you, jeremy,” you murmured, your gratitude flowing from the depths of your heart. “for saving me, for being here.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips a tender caress against your skin. “i'll always be here for you, (y/n). you're a more important duty of mine than the hunting.”

in that moment, as the night wrapped around you in a cocoon of stars and shadows, you knew that the road ahead might be fraught with darkness and uncertainty. but as jeremy's arms held you close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear, you found solace in the knowledge that you didn't have to face it alone.

#tvd #tvdu #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries angst #tvd angst #tvdu angst #jeremy gilbert angst #jeremy gilbert x reader smut #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore angst

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accioprocrastination · 7 months

Text

Estranged (Part 1/?)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

A/n: pure fluff - this is a short and sweet one... I think I need to write more parts for this

Summary: Rooster's ex best friend aka. Iceman's daughter comes back to town

You walk into the Hard Deck with Hangman and instantly head to the pool table.

You're making small talk with Bob who fades back into the background when human ken doll returns to your side.

"How was dinner?" Jake asks you about the family dinner you were dreading all week. The reason you text him to meet you here this evening.

"Awful." You respond with a sigh.

"Is your d-" Jake starts but you cut him off.

"I really don't want to talk about it. Please can we talk about anything other than that?" you snap slightly at your wingman.

He nods in understanding that you're here to get your mind off of what's going on at home.

"How was drinks with Bea?" you ask about a woman he picked up when you two went shopping for snacks after work last week.

He grimaces and you giggle in anticipation for whatever insane story he's about to sprout.

You hear the bell of the door opening and break his gaze, instinctively looking at who is walking in.

Every single thought leaves your head as a good looking guy in a Hawaiian shirt meanders over. He looks in your direction and you double take, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Realisation washes over you as your second glance confirms your worst thoughts, that is Bradley, the person you once considered to be your platonic soulmate.

Bradley got hot.

"Bradshaw as I live and breathe!" Hangman shouts over to him and you double take.

You don't acknowledge him until he follows you to the bar. He stands next to you and moves around until he meets your eye line.

"Were you planning on ignoring me all evening?" Bradley asks sliding closer to you.

You haven't spoken to him since you joined the Navy and moved away. You came back home for top gun, expecting him to be here but he had already enlisted and been deployed without telling you.

There was never a proper goodbye between the two of you, no monumental moment where you consciously decided to stop being friends.

"Hi Bradley." You say giving him a small smile.

"Hi." He responds voice gravely with a mixture of tiredness and alcohol.

It's followed by awkward silence that you're deeply unsure of how to fill.

You once knew everything there was to know about the man before you. Now you feel like strangers.

This is weird.

I'm uncomfortable.

The bar is so busy you know it's going to be a while before either of you are served.

You need to fill this silence; this is horrible.

Fucking say something Y/N, anything.

Your internal thoughts berate you until you open your mouth to talk.

Before you can say anything he speaks up, "12 o'clock is that or is that not the guy that Maddison hooked up with at Jeremy's sweet 16?"

You instantly look over and start laughing as the only person on your nose looks like a wannabe punk rocker - not her type and definitely not someone you went to school with.

"Clearly great taste runs in the family." You wink at him. You instantly regret that response and shake your head grimacing.

He laughs.

"How is your sister? I don't think I've seen her since that party." He theorises.

"She's good. She moved to Texas with her boyfriend from college. I feel like I haven't seen her since that party either." You reply.

"Ah cool, good for her. I never thought she'd leave here, I don't know why." He mutters but you know exactly why he thought that, because you thought that.

"Do you still keep in touch with Jeremy?" You query.

"Not at all! Do you?" he smiles eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"Oh yeah, we talk every day!" you retort sarcastically.

He shoves you playfully, ignoring your cold shoulder as keeps talking.

The silence returns like a wave to shore. You're mentally racking your brain for anything to say.

It'd feel wrong to start small talking with him like you're nothing.

"Do you remember when you shaved my eyebrows off?" He asks out of nowhere.

You giggle at the memory, unable to hold in your laughter.

"What on earth made you think about that?" You question in slight disbelief that he's here laughing with you.

"Don't look but the girl with Phoenix at the moment has totally shaved off her eyebrows to draw them on." He whispers. You instantly turn to look without any subtlety.

"Y/N" Bradley berates you for so brazenly turning.

"You can't say that and expect me not to look!" You try to reason with him.

"This may sound sort of crazy because we haven't seen each other in years but do you want to get out of here? It's really busy in here and I'm kind of hungry. I was thinking we could go to that diner your dad always used to take us to?" He proposes.

You hesitate.

"I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. I should've made more time for our friendship when you moved away. Instead I freaked out and ignored your calls." He says. "I was a shitty friend. If you want to stay here, there's no hard feelings." he adds.

"Thank you for saying sorry. I know that doesn't come easy to Mr Perfect." you tease, booping his nose with your finger. The nickname was bestowed upon him by your kindergarten teacher and you have never stopped ridiculing him for it.

"That should've been my callsign." He smirks jumping out of his seat to lead you to the door.

Part 2

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #tgm #top gun au #top gun maverick #tgm fic #tgm x reader #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster x reader #top gun hangman

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icemankazansky · 5 months

Note

icemav and a teachers au for the 3 sentences things?

Thanks for playing!

This one ran waaaaay over.

Ice is grading lit reviews and doesn’t even look up when Maverick comes in. He doesn’t need to see him to scold him.

“You missed your office hours again,” Ice says, red penning the shit out of some poor student’s paper. “I’m going to start charging you for every one of your students I have to interact with. I am not your secretary. In fact, the department has a secretary. His name is Jeremy. You passed his desk on the way in.”

Maverick dumps his bag at his own desk, then slides right over to Ice’s, taking a seat on the desktop like Ice isn’t using it. Ice doesn’t so much as look up at him over the lenses of his reading glasses. He keeps grading, but his mouth is pinched, either showing annoyance or hiding amusement. Maverick will humor him, pretend he doesn’t know it’s the latter.

“You don’t want to know why I missed my office hours?” Maverick prods him.

“I don’t care, Mitchell. Once again: I am not your secretary, social or otherwise.”

For a moment, Maverick watches Ice work. Not for the first time, he considers conducting a proper experiment on how much more aggressively Ice grades when he’s pretending to ignore Maverick. It would be nice to have the numbers to rub in Ice’s face, but the effects on the physics department’s grade curve would have to be explained to the dean.

“I was standing in line at the box office,” Maverick says.

Maverick pulls his surprise out of his jacket pocket and tosses it onto the paper Ice is grading. For a moment, Ice is still. Finally, he picks the tickets up, looks at them for a moment, and then looks up at Maverick, sliding his readers up to rest on top of his head the way people do with their sunglasses. A slight blush colors his cheeks, and he can’t keep a rein on his smile.

“You’re going to take me to the ballet, Mitchell?”

Maverick shrugs. “I hear it’s romantic or something. Someone told me the company is coming from Russia, so they’re, like, legit.”

Ice smirks. “Someone, huh?” He schools his expression as best he can, but no one can read Ice like Maverick, and he’s as good as beaming behind the frosty veneer. “I’m not easy. I like to be invited on dates, Maverick.”

Maverick takes his hand. Kisses his knuckles, enjoying the way Ice flushes, looks into his eyes. “Professor Kazansky—Ice, darling—will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ballet?”

“I will,” Ice says, and leans up to kiss him.

“You can schedule it with my secretary,” Ice whispers between kisses. “His name’s Jeremy; you passed him on the way in—”

Maverick bites him, Ice laughs; they stop talking, mouths otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future.

#asks answered #fic memes #top gun fanfiction #icemav #my writing

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looooooooomis · 2 years

Text

the darkness, visible

pairing: corey cunningham x fem!reader one shot word count: 7.3k (I am SO sorry) warnings: s m u t (18++++++), oral, tit-play, thigh-riding, teasing, friends to lovers, halloween ends spoilers

a/n: what can i say? he charmed me

masterlist HERE

“When the chaos calls me out And it feel it's like there is nothing I can do I picture you.” picture you // mumford & sons

Friends.

Just friends.

That’s all the two of you were. That’s all you ever had been and while it might have killed you half of the time – most of the time, if you were being honest – that’s all you’d ever be.

Friends.

Chums.

Pals.

But then there were nights like tonight that made all those years of burying your feelings for the man to your right all the more impossible. Nights when you could swear he was sitting closer than normal, so close that his body heat seemed to envelop you from every angle as the two of you sat in your barely lit apartment watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You could feel the scratchiness of his wool sweater graze yours every few seconds, smell that musky aftershave wafting all around you, and you watched, in mild admiration, as those thick fingers of his tightened into two fists on his lap. The veins in his hands swelled to life with ever clench, steeling your attention instantly as you thought of how nice they might feel circling around your throat, how fucking good they’d feel carved into the flesh of your hips if he were to bend you over the arm of your couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought Corey Cunningham was in agony as he sat there, leg bouncing every couple of seconds as he flexed and unflexed his fingers into fists – but you did know Corey. Knew him better than anyone – and this wasn’t out of left field for your curly haired best friend.

Because try as you might to bury your feelings for the man, you knew he was doing the exact same thing when it came to you.

You’d both agreed a very long time ago, a fucking lifetime ago, that you were both better off as friends. It was about a year before the babysitting incident at a New Years Eve party that your friend, Jess, had thrown. You were both drunk, both a little stoned, and both way too tired to play that tired old game of who can bury their feelings down farther that it was all you could both do to kiss each other at midnight. Granted, it was awkward as all hell – there was no magic rom-com movie moment where the pair of you locked eyes and just knew you’d found your person – but instead lasted for all of five seconds before some drunken idiot slammed into you from behind, sending you forward with enough force to completely obliterate poor Corey’s nose.

It was roughly ten minutes after that incident, as you were bunching a handful of toilet paper into Corey’s face in a lame attempt to staunch the bleeding, when you both silently came to the agreement that whatever that was couldn’t happen again. You two were friends, that’s all you’d ever be, this was only the universe’s way of solidifying that sad fact.

But that didn’t mean either of you had to like it.

And night’s like tonight, where you could feel Corey’s frustration exuding off of him in waves, made that sad pill all the harder to swallow.

The tension between the two of you was thick and, some nights, nights spent holed up in your apartment, watching a movie with a bottle (or two) of wine between you, that tension was hard to ignore.

You could feel those pretty brown eyes scraping over your profile as the movie played on, feel him shift, every couple of minutes, the slightest bit closer to you, never once allowing those hands to touch you but not willing his body to do the same. He wanted you every bit as much as you wanted him and you knew that.

But that wasn’t in the cards for the two of you, especially after that night he babysat Jeremy.

You could still remember the grit of his voice when he called you from the police station. He’d only been allowed one call and, rather than call his overbearing mother or his father, he’d called you. You were at a Halloween party, one he was meant to be attending when he was finished with that Jeremy kid, but there was a shift in his voice and a certain hitch in his breathing that alerted you to something being seriously wrong.

You didn’t realize just how horrific that something was, however, until it was too late.

You were there when the town turned its back on him, you were there through the trials and through every painstaking moment that the boy you were so heartily in love with dimmed to a dull glow with every passing year. Haddonfield was killing him, it had already eaten him up and chewed him out and now all that was left was to wait for something to take him away completely because people in Haddonfield didn’t forget and they certainly couldn’t forgive the man they’d dubbed the Killer Babysitter.

Your heart had broken for the man more times than you could count at this stage in your friendship. Before that night, Corey’s life has been on the up and up. He was smart, he was almost finished with college, the two of you had talked about moving to Chicago the next year for a fresh start – but then that kid died and, with him, most of Corey did, too.

“You want to go somewhere tonight?” Corey’s quiet voice sliced into the quietude of your living room, snapping your attention away from his hands only long enough for you to peer across at those pretty brown eyes. When you didn’t answer right away, you watched Corey’s lips twitch in mild amusement. “What’s that look?”

“You want to go out?” You asked, raising your brows. Stretching across the couch, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead, ignoring his pitiful attempts to smack your hand away with a small smirk of your own. “You feeling okay?”

“Hilarious,” he mused, catching your hand with ease. You didn’t quite miss the way he seemed to hold onto your hand for a few extra seconds before letting it fall between you. “Allyson Nelson, you know her?”

Confusion pinched at your brows as you gave him a slow nod. “Laurie Strode’s granddaughter, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She, uh,” glancing down at the bandage on his hand he seemed to chew on his words for a few seconds before his eyes found yours once more. “She fixed my hand up this afternoon and actually invited me to this Halloween pub night thing.”

Corey was testing the waters when he knew he shouldn’t have been and, as he watched your face fall for just a second, a real blink and you’ll miss it type of thing, his stomach fell out of his ass as he watched you smack on a tight, practiced smile before downing the rest of your wine.

“That’s fun,” you mused with that hollow smile. “You should go.”

Corey was quiet as he watched you pour out another glass of wine, watching your face for any indication that you were jealous because if you were jealous then he wasn’t fucking crazy for being so goddamn in love with his best friend. Because if you were jealous maybe, just maybe, all of the feelings he had for you boiling beneath the surface of his skin weren’t entirely one-sided.

“I was thinking about it,” He admitted, studying your face. “But I want you there with me.”

You gave him a quiet snort as you found his stare from above your glass of wine. “Yeah, I don’t think Allyson would love that.”

“Why not?” Corey asked, watching you relax back into the couch. “She asked, I’m sure she—”

“She asked you, Corey,” you laughed but he knew that laugh. It was a stale laugh, one you’d given many men that he’d witnessed over the years and he suddenly wished he hadn’t said a fucking word. If there was anything in this world Corey knew like the back of his fucking hand, it was you. Your expressions, your personality, your defense mechanisms – and this, this breezy nonchalance was defense mechanism number one.

“So?” He pushed out, leaning forward so that his elbows were on his knees. “It was probably just her being polite and—”

You shot him a knowing look which silenced him instantly.

“How did she ask?” You smirked, taking another sip of wine. “Because I promise you, you’re wrong.”

“Over text,” he shrugged. “She asked if I had a costume because her co-worker was throwing a party at that bar on Eagle Street.”

“Text,” you mused with a hum. “So, a girl gives you her number and asks you out and you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t think she’d mind if you brought a female friend with you?”

Corey mulled over your words for a few seconds before giving you a mild shrug. “I don’t think she’d mind.”

“She would,” you laughed, putting your glass back on the coffee table at your knee. “I’d mind if I invited a guy out and he brought another girl.”

“It’s not like I’d be bringing you as a date. We’re friends.” He argued but as those words left his tongue and he caught a flash of hurt dance across your face, Corey wished like hell that the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“I know,” you replied, way too perky. That blasé smile was back in full force as you leaned forward to down the rest of your wine. “We’re friends.” You reiterated, almost a little grumpily before focusing those pretty eyes back on his face. “So, as your friend, I demand that you leave my apartment right now and go get your girl.”

His girl, he wanted to laugh but found such a sensation almost impossible to come by when it wasn’t in reference to you.

“I’m not going to ditch you,” he said, suddenly wishing he’d never opened his mouth to begin with. Desperation began to scrape inside of his chest, as did those vexatious feelings he had for you. They were clawing at his chest, desperate to come out of his mouth so that all those buried feelings could finally, maybe, manifest into something more tangible. Something real.

“You’re not ditching,” you simply said with a hum. “I’m kicking you out of my apartment so that you can go on a date with a pretty girl who’s been through the ringer every bit as much as you have.” You told him, avoiding his stare altogether. “It’ll be good for you.”

You’re good for me, he wanted to say. Hell, he wanted to scream it for all your fucking neighbours to hear.

But he wouldn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because Corey Cunningham didn’t have it in him. He lacked conviction, that’s what his mother had said time and time again, and he supposed she was right. Because if Corey had even an ounce of conviction, an ounce of courage inside of his chest, he’d act on those fucking feelings rather than bury them further down with every passing day.

“What are you waiting for, lover boy?” Pushing yourself off of the couch, you grabbed his arm and yanked him up to his feet with some difficulty before grabbing for his jacket. “Go,” you told him, tossing his jacket at him. “Have fun.”

“What about you?” He asked pitifully, not moving an inch as you brought his empty wine glass to the kitchen. Corey’s eyes were on your ass as you walked away; you were in nothing more an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of short athletic shorts and no matter how often he’d seen you in an outfit similar to this, he was hooked.

He wanted nothing more than to yank those shorts down and lick his way up those thighs until finally tasting you the way he always wanted to.

But, instead, here he was. Being ushered out of your apartment to go see another girl.

“Me?” You asked over your shoulder. “I’m going to finish this movie, finish this wine, smoke a bowl, masturbate, and then go to bed.” You flashed him an amused smile as you watched his cheeks redden with the mention of masturbation before tucking your chin into your chest. It wasn’t out of the blue for you two to talk about sex and all things related to it, but it never got old watching the toll it seemed to take on your friend. “I’ll be just fine.”

The images of you splayed out on the couch or on your bed, legs wide with one of your toys between your thighs was nearly enough to kill him. If he had the balls, he’d make a quip about wanting to watch or, at the very least, wanting to offer a helping hand so that you didn’t have to do all the work. He wanted to be that guy. He wanted to be that guy more than anything when it came to you.

But he wasn’t.

“I,” he opened his mouth, tasting the words out on his tongue before uttering them out loud. I want to stay with you. I want to be the one fucking you on this couch, not your fucking dildo.

But no words surfaced.

Only thoughts.

That’s all they’d ever be.

“Hmm?” You asked, padding your way back into the living room.

“Nothing,” he shook his head and begrudgingly shrugged his jacket on. “I guess I’ll go, then.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, avoiding his eyes one last time as you focused back on the movie. “Go and have some fun, Cunningham. You deserve it.”

In a perfect world, he’d show some conviction right now. He’d march across your tiny apartment, yank you up to your feet and kiss you with everything he had. He’d tell you everything, every little fucking thing he was feeling about you, he’d kiss you and taste you and make you scream for him.

But all he did was stand there, wishing. Waiting for something inside of him to snap to life. For that beast inside of his chest to wake up and finally make its move.

Only it never came and as he lowered his gaze to the ground and made his way towards your front door, Corey managed one pitiful glance over his shoulder towards you only to find that your eyes were on his.

Say it, he demanded. Do something you fucking idiot!

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, shoving his hands inside of his coat pockets.

That sad smile of yours was going to be etched into his memory until the end of time, he was sure of it. But, rather than say another word, you buried it just as fast and gave him a single nod. “See you tomorrow, Corey.”

God, he really was a fucking idiot.

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

It was as if he was on fire from within.

Something inside of him, some cloud of chaos, of destruction, a darkness so deep and encompassing seemed to blossom in his chest that morning. At first, he’d been terrified. Horrified, even, of waking up in some sort of sewage drain and when that rude awakening turned into coming face to face with Michael fucking Myers, Corey had never felt such fear in his life.

But it was somewhere after he crawled out of that sewage drain, after barely leaving with his life, and feeling that knife slice into the homeless man who had attacked him, that fear turned into something more. Something much more carnal and familiar than he could fathom. It was as though that beast inside of his chest had been stirred awake that morning which, given that he’d been jumped the night prior, was a feat in and of itself.

But somehow, amidst the bruises and the wounds marring his hands and face. Despite his bones aching from the fall off of the bridge and the pounding in his head, Corey felt alive for the first time since the accident at Jeremy’s house.

His skin felt like it was vibrating as adrenaline rushed through his entire body, waking up the darkest parts of himself that he had buried down so deep for so many years. It was as if the sun was finally shining on Corey Cunningham after spending years and years in the shadows.

He was in the shower when he realized it. Watching the blood seep off of his body and swirl down the drain, Corey knew exactly what he needed to do with this newfound confidence – with this burst of conviction lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Reaching for his phone after he slung a towel haphazardly around his waist, Corey tapped through multiple screens before finding your conversation.

Free tonight?

He typed, hitting send before that resolve left him entirely.

Sure. Swing by around 10?

That beast inside of his chest clawed its way to the surface as he typed his response.

I’ll be there.

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

There was a knock at your door a little after ten that evening.

You knew it was bound to be Corey, it was only ever Corey at this time of night, but that didn’t stop you from peering through the peephole just to be sure. You did live in Haddonfield, after all, and, while you were almost sure Michael Myers didn’t exactly knock before claiming his next victim, you weren’t risking it.

But, sure enough, there was Corey. Holding a bottle of wine in his hands along with a small bouquet of flowers that looked freshly picked from the garden your landlord kept at the front of the building.

“What the fuck?” You laughed, swinging the door open. But any and all amusement left you as you took in the battered man before you. “Oh, my god, Corey,” His clothes were clean and it was obvious he made an attempt to cover up just how fucking injured he was, but as your eyes swept over every inch of visible skin, your heart fell into your stomach. Someone had beaten the shit out of him. “What the fuck happened?” You hissed, grabbing his arm to direct him into your apartment. The flowers in his arms were all but forgotten about as you searched his eyes. “Who did this to you?”

His glasses were gone now and while the scratches and bits of dry blood along his lip and hairline should have had your full attention, it was his eyes that held you there. Those gorgeous brown eyes that you knew like the back of your hand, those kind, gentle, patient eyes were dark tonight.

Penetrative.

Sinister.

You couldn’t look away. That sheepish side of your best friend, the poised version of Corey that you’d familiarized yourself with since the incident was gone tonight and, in its place, this. Confidence exuded off of the man tonight and, as you watched him place the bottle of wine on your table, along with the flowers he’d brought with him, it was those dark eyes that held your attention.

“Nobody,” his voice was low as she shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’m okay.”

He sounded the same, he looked the same – but there was something different about Corey Cunningham tonight and to say you were intrigued would have been an understatement.

Your intrigue, however, was short-lived as you focused back on the wounds marring his body.

“You’re okay? Corey, have you seen yourself?” You reached forward and gently brushed his hair away from his face to get a better look at the gash that ran along his brow. You winced. “Fuck, you might need stitches.”

“I don’t need any stitches,” he said, not moving a muscle under your sudden touch. The old Corey would have blushed, hell, he would have probably fumbled over some words – but not tonight. Instead, you watched a teasing grin pull at the corner of his mouth as he shook his head. “I didn’t come here for first-aid, Y/N.”

“No?” You asked distractedly, glancing around your apartment for the small first-aid box you carried in case of emergencies. When your search came up empty, you sighed and focused your attention back to Corey. Frowning, you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. Concern niggled in your belly as you shook your head. “Jesus, look at you. Who did it, Corey? I swear to god, if it was—”

The words died on the tip of your tongue as Corey crossed the small threshold of your apartment with ease, but before you could question him on anything, his mouth was on yours as he backed you into the side of your couch.

Every part of your brain was screaming at you to pull back, to come to your senses and think clearly for just one goddamn second – but you couldn’t.

Not now.

On instinct, your hands tangled through his hair as he pushed you against the couch with ease with his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip.

“What?” Your voice was muffled as you pulled back just far enough to peer across at him. That dark look in his eyes was enough to make you clench your thighs together as warmth pooled between your thighs. “Corey, what the fuck?”

Licking his lips, Corey’s forehead fell against your own as he swept some of your hair behind your ear. “You want me to stop?” His hands were on your face at first, cradling it gently as he ground his hips into yours, and then they were on your neck, holding you close as his tongue massaged your own.

You could feel his cock through his jeans, straining against the material painfully so as your own arousal spread like wildfire inside of you.

“I didn’t say that,” you pushed out, melting into him. “But what the fuck’s gotten into you?” Shivering beneath his touch, you instinctively leaned into his broad chest as the pair of you continue to stand there, kissing like your lives depended on it. “Are you high?”

“No,” he laughed, and kissed the corner of your mouth. “Not drunk, either, before you ask.”

“Concussion?” You mumbled against his lips, working on getting him out of his jacket

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a dark smirk. “Maybe. Does it matter?”

“Yeah, it fucking matters, asshole.” You told him breathlessly. “I don’t want you regretting anything when you wake up tomorrow morning.”

His movements stilled and you watched his brows furl as he seemed to weigh the gravity of your words. “Regret what?” He asked, cradling your face. “Kissing you? Tasting you?” He clicked his tongue and breathed out a terse, shaky sigh. “I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen, Y/N,” no trace of hilarity crossed over his face as he brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. “No chance I’d regret this. You hear me?””

“Corey,” you groused, but your body was losing its battle to remain steadfast with Corey looking at you like that. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Amusement flashed across his face. “You don’t think I mean it?” He asked, backing you onto the couch so that your knees buckled. Leaning most of his weight on his elbow beside you, Corey hovered over you and bumped your nose with his. “You want me to show you how much I mean it?”

Your cunt throbbed at the promise of his words. Were you dreaming? How was this the same man who blushed at the mention of masturbation the night prior? “I’m serious, Corey.”

“So am I,” he mumbled into the flesh of your neck. Biting down, he could only smirk at the low moan he managed to get out of you before doing it again. His cock twitched. “You like that?”

Just last night, the two of you had been sat on this very couch. The same couch where you’d spent hours talking and watching movies. The same couch where he’d spent hours on hours thinking through this very scenario. Thinking about just how he’d go about kissing you, tasting you – how the two of you could go from friends to lovers and everything in between.

He kissed you with everything he had as he positioned the pair of you into a better angle; one where he could see you up close and personal. Sitting himself up, he yanked you on top of his thick thighs, not wasting even a second to push that silky nightgown up your waist to allow himself full access to that sweet cunt he’d thought about for years on end.

He needed to feel you as close as humanly possible tonight, hell, he was desperate for it. Desperate for you. And, judging by the greedy way you kissed him and the way your hands seemed to knot through his hair and knead into his sweater, keeping him just as close, it was all too obvious to Corey that he’d denied himself all these years for nothing.

You wanted this, wanted him, every bit as much as he wanted you.

Biting down on your lip, Corey’s fingers bled into the flesh of your hips as he slipped his hands beneath the silk of that pretty little night dress. You’d worn this dress around him only once before and he could still recall the way those perfect tits of yours looked in it. How your nipples pebbled and strained against the thin material, drawing his eyes immediately. He’d had that image of you in his head for weeks, after that. Fucked his hand more times than he was willing to admit as he thought of all the ways he could get that dress off of you.

And now, here you were. Sitting on his lap in that fucking dress he’d dreamt about for months on end. He could feel the warmth of your cunt through his jeans, see the pebbling of your nipples knowing he was only a few inches away from being able to taste them on his tongue.

You groaned into his mouth as he bit your lip, but when his tongue ran along your lip, soothing the pain almost instantly, all was forgiven. How could it not be when he felt this fucking good?

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” You breathed out raking your fingers through those unruly curls. “But I like it.”

A dark rumble of laughter crawled out from between those perfect lips of his as he swirled his tongue up the length of your throat. He could feel your pulse jump beneath his tongue, and it took everything inside of him not to come on the spot.

Your entire body felt red-hot as his thick fingers slipped beneath your dress and curled into the flesh of your hips. He was holding you there, not allowing you so much as an inch as he closed his mouth over your pulse point, relishing in how fucking good it finally felt to taste your skin, to feel your heartbeat on his tongue. Feel you writhing, burning for him, as he finally kissed you the way he’d always wanted to kiss you.

All his life, he’d denied himself when it came to you. Denied his body, his mind, his heart.

But never again.

Not with you.

“Your heart’s fucking racing,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Yeah, well,” you breathed out, and when you felt him gently bite down on your collarbone, just beneath your pulse point, you were dizzy with want. “Do you blame me?”

Corey just managed to tear himself away from you only long enough to blink up at you. “You scared of me?”

“No,” you laughed. “I’ve just thought about this for a long time. Never thought it would actually happen.”

Corey’s eyebrows pulled up. “You’ve thought about this?” Something that looked an awful lot like esteem flashed across his face, followed by sheer confusion before you felt him pull you even closer. “About us?”

You wanted to laugh because how could he be so goddamn blind – but you didn’t. Instead, all you could do was run your fingers through his hair again, pushing it back and away from his face long enough to see the damage those assholes had done the night prior. “Yeah, you dumb idiot,” you chastised quietly, placing a gentle kiss to the bruise above his lip. “I’ve thought about us.”

Your tone was enough to make Corey believe you, but it was the effervescent look of pure worship resonating from your every pore that made Corey close the gap between you. He’d been an idiot to ignore his feelings for you. How much time had he wasted running from this? Running from you?

Slowly, as though time meant nothing, his lips met yours in a kiss that sent shockwaves through your entire body. The way the two of you moved against each other, the way his lips felt against yours, the way your hands seemed to just know where to touch the man to make him feral.

There was a fluency between the two of you, an ease that went beyond sense, beyond logic.

It was natural as breathing to hold you like this, to kiss you and touch you exactly like this and Corey couldn’t get enough. Not when you sounded so fucking pretty moaning every time the seam of his jeans rubbed your cunt just right.

Yeah, he’d been a fucking idiot to wait this long to show you how he felt.

But he’d be damned if he waited another second.

Still getting used to that strange prickling beneath his skin, Corey’s fingers trembled as they pushed the hem of your dress higher up your waist, allowing himself full access to your naked ass. You were in nothing more than a thong beneath that fucking dress and seeing you, feeling how little there was between you was enough to kill him.

“I thought about you last night,” you whispered, biting down on your own lip as you felt him knead your bare ass. “Fucking me on this very couch.”

His cock twitched painfully against his jeans. “While you were touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you moaned.

“Fuck,” he hissed, reaching around to give your ass another firm squeeze. “I should have stayed.”

You smirked and lowered yourself further down on his lap so that your clit brushed against his jean-clad thigh again. “You’re here now,” you reminded him, slowly sliding back and forth on his thigh. You bit back a moan as you continued to ride his thigh. “And, fuck, baby, you feel even better than I thought you would.”

With a menacing grin, he craned his neck up to capture your lips as you continued to rock back and forth on his thigh. Burying a moan inside of his mouth, you felt one of his hands wander from your ass and along your waist before giving your breast a firm squeeze through the fabric of your thin slip dress.

God, how many times had he dreamt of touching you? How many times had he thought about sucking the very tits he was now groping as you moaned and arched into his touch? He’d rubbed himself raw many a night dreaming about this very scenario and here you were.

Through the fabric of your dress, his thumb rolled over the hardened bud of your nipple briefly before yanking the straps down so that you were fully exposed to him. If he was worried about the fabric ripping, he sure as shit had a funny way of showing it because the second your tits were out of that dress, Corey’s hungry mouth was on your nipple.

Tasting you.

Savouring you.

Between the sensation of his tongue and the feeling of your clit scraping against his strong, muscular thigh, you were in heaven.

But fair was fair.

He was the injured party, here. He looked like he fell off of a fucking bridge, the man needed some TLC.

And you were more than happy to help.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy as he gently bit and sucked at your pert nipple, you reached your arm down between you to unbuckle his belt. Your movements were frenzied, desperate, as you worked on undoing his jeans, and when you finally managed to undo his zipper, you unlatched your tit from his mouth and began to shimmy down his legs.

Corey’s eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as you settled between his thighs. There was a damp streak on the leg of his jeans on account of you, but you barely paid it any mind as you yanked the material further down his hips.

His cock sprang to life the second it had come loose from its constraints and, as your hungry eyes scraped over his painfully hard erection, he swore to himself that he could have come right there and then.

Your lips were puffy from all the kissing you’d done, your cheeks flushed. And as your chest heaved with each shallow breath, your already perky nipples puckered and teased him to no end. He wanted his mouth back on them, needed to feel the swollen buds on his tongue, between his teeth. He needed to hear you scream for him, beg for him.

He needed you more than air in that moment. Hell, he needed you more than water for most of his life. He knew he should have been taking his time with you tonight, he should try to be gentle – but he couldn’t.

That beast inside of him had gone without for so damn long and tonight, he would feed it.

Scraping your fingernails up his thighs, you smirked and lowered your head to the girth of his cock. You’d thought about how it might feel to pierce you, how it might taste on your tongue but even your wildest dreams paled in comparison to the real thing.

With the flat of your tongue, you licked your way up the length of his cock all the while holding that dark stare. His legs twitched beneath you and his chest, rising and falling rapidly, seemed to hitch with an unearthed breath that caught in his throat the very second you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock.

“This okay?” You purred with a knowing, teasing smile.

With hungry, half-lidded eyes, Corey watched that pretty mouth of yours take him. Slowly at first, but soon you fell into an easy rhythm as you sucked him off. “Yeah,” his voice was gruff, barely above a whisper. Curling his fingers through your hair, he squeezed his fist together, giving your hair a firm tug as he threw his head back against the couch and whispered, “Fuck, baby.”

If he wasn’t careful, he’d blow his load in your mouth before he got the chance to properly fuck you and he’d be damned if he let that happen.

Corey gave your hair a firm tug and hissed out your name. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come.”

Releasing his cock with a resounding pop, you raised a single eyebrow up at him and grinned. “That’s kind of the point.”

Without so much as a word, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a bruising kiss as he pulled you back onto the couch. His movements were quick, you barely registered the fact that he managed to pin you down where he’d just been sitting, and as you watched him position himself in front of you, between your thighs, your pulse seemed to skyrocket in anticipation.

You watched, mesmerised, as he tugged your thong down your thighs. At first, he held your stare as he leaned in to place an almost gentle kiss to your sopping mound, but when his eyes, those dark, dark eyes, flittered down to your cunt, the excitement in the pit of your stomach blossomed wholly.

He was a man on fire in that moment.

“Corey,” you pleaded pathetically, running your fingers through his curls. Your hips thrusted forward out of desperation alone. You needed to feel him inside of you one way or another. “Please, baby.”

That seemed to do it. Something in your whiny tone was enough for Corey to bury his face between your thighs and, fuck, did he feel so fucking good.

A guttural moan tore out of your lips as his deft tongue found your clit and, as he inserted two thick fingers inside of you, you bucked into his mouth and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

Just as you’d expected, the man was a god with his tongue.

He lapped and sucked at your clit as his free hand reached up to play with your exposed tits, taking his time with each nipple as he roughly pinched and squeezed. You’d never felt so hot in your life and your body, arching and bucking into his mouth as he senselessly tongue-fucked you, prickled with a want so intense that it was almost tangible.

It was obvious the man wanted you to come and god did he want you to come hard.

“Corey,” you rasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as that familiar heat began to encroach its way up your body. When he curled his fingers inside of your hot cunt, you nearly screamed. “Corey, fuck.”

“Come for me,” he demanded, the reverb of his voice against your already sensitive clit sent shivers up and down your spine. “God, baby, you know how good you taste?”

You were going to cum. Any second now. You felt that mind-numbing pleasure build up in your toes and up your legs and as he gave your clit another long, desperate suck, you let that fire inside of your belly overtake you.

Your entire body shook as you bucked into his mouth.

Stars danced behind your eyes as strangled moans and breathy whines tore out of your throat.

But Corey didn’t ease up.

He wouldn’t.

He simply continued to lick and suck and nip at your clit as you rode out your orgasm, ignoring the way your entire body seemed to convulse almost violently so. He wanted to hear you scream, hell, he wanted to feel you tremble and shake on account of him all fucking night long.

You deserved to know he wanted this, wanted you more than he could even fathom and he deserved to feel like some sort of fucking god as he watched you tremble on his tongue. No man would ever touch you like this again, only him.

But that timid man he’d become since that night with Jeremy was still at the root of his core and seeing you fumble over your words as you fought for control of your own body won over as he slowly released your clit and kissed his was up your pelvis and stomach before leaning up to capture your lips again.

You could taste yourself on his lips as you kissed him and as he situated himself in front of you, you instinctively opened your thighs a little wider to allow him entrance. Breathlessly, you pulled away from his lips and shot him a tiny smirk as you reached down to give his dick a firm tug. “Fuck me, Corey.”

He seemed to search your eyes for a moment before giving you a small, gentle nod. He might have been a new man tonight, like something inside of him just…woke up – but that tender look he gave you as he watched you climb on top of his lap was all you could focus on. He looked so…fucking beautiful with his unruly curls splayed every which way and that sheen of sweat coating his bruised and battered skin. You could still see your slick all over his chin and nose, but you’d never seen a more beautiful being as you did whilst looking across at the man beneath you.

“You okay?” You found yourself asking as you swept a blanket of hair back and away from his forehead. Reaching down, you guided the length of him through your wet folds and along your clit before lowering yourself down onto his length.

His words died on his tongue as he blew out a puff of air through his lips and allowed his head to fall back against the couch as he tried to regain control of his body. You just felt so fucking good, so fucking warm and tight, on his cock. He’d imagined this very scenario a thousand times over – but never in his life did he expect it to feel so damn good.

“I’m better than okay,” he chuckled, tugging your already rumpled dress over your head. He tossed it across your small apartment, watching with keen interest as your tits heaved and bounced with every fluid bound you took. “God, look at you,” he mused, full of wonder. His eyes seemed to skirt around every inch of your body, followed closely by his calloused hands, but the look he gave you as those brown eyes finally settled in on your face made you breathless. “You’re perfect.”

It came out no louder than a whisper but landed like an atom bomb in your chest as you took in the raw emotion all over his face.

Splaying his fingers across the expanse of your back, Corey pulled you closer into him and enveloped his mouth around one of your nipples, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as his tongue lapped and sucked each tit. If he’d known how hot you got from tit-play, how much your body seemed to just mould against him as those tiny, breathy moans filtered around your small apartment – he would have tested the waters years ago.

God, you were soaked and, fuck, you felt so fucking good.

He’d thought about doing this for years now – hell, he’d argue since he’d laid eyes on you – but even in his wildest, wettest dream, he never imagined that you’d feel this good. His hands held your hips as you swiveled and bounced on his cock. He was going to come soon, he knew he was, but when he watched you reach down and begin to stroke your clit as he was buried inside of you, that was it for Corey.

A breathy moan tore out of his lips as he leaned forward to capture your mouth again, coming undone inside of you, filling you up with everything he had.

Feeling his cock twitch, you rode out the last few pumps before slowly pulling back to peer down at him. “If you think this got you out of telling me who beat you up,” You nuzzled his neck and bit down. “You’re sorely mistaken.”

A slow, lazy grin tore across his lips as you slowly slid off of him, joining him on the couch with your naked chest heaving. Reaching across to cup your pussy, Corey slipped a finger through your wet folds and gave your clit a firm pinch. Your entire body trembled on account of his fingers. “Later,” he promised, leaning in to capture your lips yet again. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

let me know what you guys think x

#halloween ends #halloween ends spoilers #corey cunningham #Corey Cunningham x reader #Corey cunningham x fem!reader #halloween #slasher boyfriends #Corey Cunningham x you #Michael myers #slashers #Corey cunningham fic #Corey cunningham halloween ends

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sochilll · 2 months

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Day Three of Pins and Patches Week! (See the prompt list here!)

Day 3: Crutches/Stairs

Read on Ao3

“Do you want to go right after school or just pick me up later?” Jeremy asked. He had Michael’s loose backpack strap in his hand. He did that a lot lately. Michael knew it was post-squip trauma. He knew Jeremy was making sure Michael didn’t disappear on him. But it did make Michael feel a bit like a dog on a leash.

“I was thinking pick you up later. I kinda wanna change.”

Jeremy nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Me too probably.” He checked his phone. “Arcade closes at ten on weeknights so if we leave by like,” he looked to Michael, shrugging. “Five? We should be fine.”

“Five sounds good.”

Jeremy’s eyes drifted over Michael’s shoulder. He put on a very forced smile. “Hey Jake!” He said with far too much enthusiasm.

Jake didn’t wave. His hands were full of his crutches. He nodded at them both, eyes lingering on Michael before moving past them.

Michael cleared his throat. He hadn’t told Jeremy absolutely everything that had happened when they weren’t speaking. He’d told him almost everything. Really, there was only one thing he’d left out.

At Jake’s Halloween party, after their… conversation, Michael hadn’t actually left. He’d intended to but then he got sort of lost and then there was a big group of people in the hallway in front of the door. So Michael was lingering in the kitchen because all the exits were blocked by people and at least here he could find something else to drink.

And that was when Jake came in.

They didn’t talk that much. Despite Michael’s initial fear, Jake didn’t seem surprised or upset that Michael was there. He made easy conversation. He laughed at the one joke Michael could muster up.

They spent the rest of their interaction with their mouths otherwise occupied. Michael didn’t really know how it happened. Jake was the kind of guy to make the first move and Michael was sad and angry. And all of the sudden they were kissing.

And then everything else happened and that particular moment hadn’t seemed very important to bring up to Jeremy.

Except now they were all back at school and it was… normal? Sort of. Everyone was cordial. Rich was gone. Dropped out or moved schools, no one was really sure. Jake nodded at them in the halls. Chloe went back to ignoring their existence but Brooke and Jenna waved every now and then.

None of them talked about what happened. Michael just sort of assumed he and Jake’s kitchen makeout session was included.

“Okay so five.” Jeremy zipped up his backpack. The late bell rang and the hallways were emptying. “Text me when you leave?”

Michael said he would even though they’d probably be on the phone the whole time they were home anyway.

He called bye to Jeremy and started toward his fifth period class. He rounded a corner and there was Jake again. He was facing away from Michael, struggling to get down the stairs. His backpack was sliding off his shoulder. Michael wanted to turn and go the other way to class, but he wasn’t that heartless.

“Do you need help?”

Jake glanced back at him. “Nah. Just… takes me a minute.” He got down one more step.

“Don’t they have elevators so you don’t have to do this?”

“Don’t need an elevator. I’m just fine.”

Despite the rumor mill’s insistence, Jake had not completely broken both legs. He’d broken one leg and sprained the opposite ankle. He was in a wheelchair for about a month. Michael suspected he was supposed to be in it longer, but he hated feeling like he couldn’t do everything on his own and he despised asking for help.

“Okay.” Michael dropped onto the step beside him. “It just seems like you’re having a little trouble.”

“I’m not.” Jake grunted as his backpack finally fell, catching in the crook of his elbow and unbalancing him. He didn’t fall but he tensed and then made a pained noise in his throat.

Michael used one hand to steady him and the other to pull the crutch out of his hand and take his backpack. He swung Jake’s backpack over his own shoulder and moved him over far enough to grab onto the railing. Then, he took Jake’s other crutch, jogged down the stairs, and deposited both of them and the backpacks on the floor.

“Hey!” Jake protested, unable to move.

Michael returned to Jake and stood on the side of his broken leg. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Michael snapped.

He wrapped his arm around Jake’s waist and they made their way painstakingly slowly down the stairs. They made it to the bottom and Michael returned Jake’s backpack and crutches to him.

Jake looked at him. “So you avoid me for months and now you’re willing to carry me down the stairs?”

Michael flushed. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Come on, man.” Jake scoffed. “You barely make eye contact with me.”

Michael rolled his eyes, still not making eye contact.

“I thought we were cool.”

That made Michael look up. “You did? I mean, we were?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. We like… randomly made out while I was in a really weird place at a party I wasn’t invited to and then a bunch of super fucked up shit happened. I just sort of assumed we would go back to before where we didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence.”

“First of all, no one cares who was invited to a house party like that. It’s open invite. You heard about it, you were invited.” Jake adjusted his crutches, putting his weight on the other side. “Second, all that fucked up shit had nothing to do with us.”

“I mean, we were directly involved.”

“We were indirectly involved.”

“Okay so what!”

“So,” Jake shifted again. “I’m just saying, why does any of that shit have to make stuff weird between us?”

Michael’s face was burning. He hadn’t considered that there even was an “us” in this situation. “Well, so what? We’re just… what then? What does that mean?”

“It means,” Jake leaned toward him, tilting his crutches. “Stop acting like a freaky weirdo around me and then we’ll see what happens.” He adjusted his backpack, gave Michael a crooked smile, and then limped off.

Michael stood in the hallway, trying and failing to suppress his smile. He pulled out his phone and opened his text thread with Jeremy.

Michael: Hey. Don’t freak out it’s nothing bad. but I have something big to tell you after school.

Jeremy: 0.0

#day 3! we’re back on track !#pinsnpatchesweek #bmc #pins and patches #my writing

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evilvvithin · 2 months

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under your skin

pairing: jeremy blaire x f!reader words: 715 words warnings: this is just brutal short fic, including basically rape/noncon, jeremy is a warning on it's own summary: Getting an echo about some shadey stuff happening within the Mount Massive Asylum, you decide to get in using a false identity - but Blaire finds out. notes: wanted to get back to drawing and this short oneshot was a great option for it. It's outlast, it's fucked up. I'm also down bad for Jer yes. There might be a followup in the future.

AO3 | MASTERLIST

“Congratulations on your first day, miss.” “Thank you, sir. It's an honor to be part of this huge project.”

“Stay good.. yeah, just like that.” Jeremy's hands gripped your hips roughly, pushing them against his.

You never thought getting into something big like Murkoff’s project would be so easy. Remaining undercover for so long. Writing psychology analysis for all the patients despite the fact you never really studied it. Now that you thought about it, it seemed way too easy - of course you'd never get in on your own like that. Thinking you had everything under control, your carelessness fogged your mind. You weren't playing them - they were playing you.

He was playing you. The entire time.

Squinting your eyes you decided to accept your fate. Afterall, you got yourself into it, didn't you?

All the scans and emails you've sent to the FBI contact you had. All the reports of inhumane practices within this facility, they never made it out. He knew who you were before you even signed for this. The FBI ? More likely his idea too. Everything you sent was coming to his computer. Every movement of yours monitored; did he watch you shower too?!

Grabbing the edge of the table you let out a slight yelp of pain mixed with a moan. He made sure you felt every single thrust of his, burying himself as deep as possible.

“Like it, don't you?” He grinned and grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Fucking knew it.”

He was happy with himself. Of course he was - showing you who had the upper hand here. Despite all your knowledge about the project, about all the fucked up background practices of Murkoff; you were just a harmless, annoying fly to him. Laughable even. Did you really think you could get out of this if things got out of hand?

“Fuck you,” you spat out the words and felt his gaze on your bare back.

“Mr. Blaire, how come there are no other women workers?” “Let's say no others proved themselves to be worth the employment,” he smirked. “Call me Jeremy.” You cursed at yourself for believing anything he said. The side effects of the therapy, the phantom pregnancies? You've read all about it. You've read all about Tragers fate; Murkoff would stop at nothing. He would stop at nothing.

“Fuck me? Oh, don't worry, I'll give you a chance to do so.”

The uncomfortable pain of your cervix being bruised by his rapid thrusts was fading away and you felt pure pleasure taking over. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction, no. The vortex of your thoughts and self-blaming took you away, replaying all the moments where you should've just ran away. You felt like you were two rooms away, hearing his grunts mixed with your muffled moans from afar.

All the red flags you ignored since the moment you stepped inside the Mount Massive Asylum. Fuck. Was the truth that important to you? More than your own life? Did you want to help the victims - patients - so badly you'd die for them? Did you want to help yourself?

He let out a chuckle feeling you tighten around him just as he was finished. Your body craved more, the release was so close it was almost hurting but your mind pushed all the thoughts away - tried to. Your pussy was more than eager to take more of him, but he knew what he was doing. You tried to hide it, but he knew how desperate you were at the moment and he knew you wouldn't admit it. He wanted to break you; eventually you gonna end up begging for more.

“Put yourself together, you look pathetic.” After zipping up his pants, he ran hands through his now messy hair. “It suits you.”

This wasn't the worst thing that could happen to you, definitely. Was he gonna sign you in as a patient now? Lock you up in one of those rooms, experimenting with your sanity and flesh, the so-called therapy? Like he did with Dr. Trager?

The doors slammed shut with a familiar click sound of the, leaving you in the dim light of his room alone. Alone with just your thoughts of what was going to happen to you.

#it did its work - im hyped to write some 'actual' long normal fic now #jeremy blaire #outlast #x reader #jeremy blaire x reader #jeremy blaire x you #outlast whistleblower #outlast fanfiction #murkoff #red barrels

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

Just Playing Priscilla

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yes! - nonnies

Prompt: You're playing Priscilla and today is the day of the kiss scene filming. You and Austin have been feeling feelings for each other, but neither of you are confident enough to tell the other. When Austin plays coy during an interview, maybe things will change.

TW: none!

Rating: Pg || Word Count: 2200

A/N: this is so cuteee! that kiss scene tho 😭 🥵

🦋 Mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

"And...action!" Baz's voice bounces off the walls in the small bedroom set.

You gulp and nervously pull at the bottom hem of your dress as Austin rises to go switch out the record. You let your eyes trace down his figure in the handsome military uniform that he wears for the scene. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to breathe without shaking.

"The Colonel's promised me that when I get back, he's gonna set me up in Hollywood to be a serious actor," Austin says, fumbling around with the record player.

He glances back at you, just like he's supposed to in the script, and you feel your heart flutter when his blue eyes gaze into yours. His eyes drop back down and he smiles handsomely.

"That's really what I dream of," he reads the lines in a voice so heartfelt that you can't help but smile.

"EP, now EP," your costar, Jeremy, shouts his lines from the hallway. "Now you promised the captain that you'd get her home by seven."

Austin gets up again, just like the script says, and stalks over toward the door. Your eyes follow him, and you use the bed to push yourself up and stand. Austin slams the door and spins on his heel, and you bite your cheek again trying to ignore the heat that creeps into your face. You link your fingers in front of your stomach, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"You don't boss me around," Austin says the next line perfectly, and you smile sweetly at him again as he yanks the curtains on the window open to stare out.

You cross the room, feeling your heart thud with every step you take closer. He's standing with his back toward the window, right on his mark. There's just enough space for you to slide in next to him, and you tilt your head up to gaze into his eyes lovingly as you position yourself on top of the red X on the floor. You drop your eyes for a second as his hand travels to the wall next to you, stretching out by your head.

You know the script says you have to look him in the eyes, but you're afraid of what you might feel if you do. You gulp hard and bite the bullet, reattaching your eyes to his.

"You know, I think that if you dream it, you'll do it," you say quietly. You catch Austin's eyes flick down to your lips for a moment, and you wonder if he's still acting.

"You do?" he asks.

You're supposed to respond according to the script, but you just can't. You forget about the cameras for a moment, absorbed in his sea-blue eyes. And you just let a big smile spread across your features. You bite your tongue and nod enthusiastically, humming encouragingly. Now it's your turn to let your eyes peek at his lucious lips, practically begging you to kiss him. Luckily that's exactly what the script orders.

You stare up at Austin, your heart slamming against your chest. He just looks down at you with soft blue eyes and starts to slowly, painfully lean down. You stretch out your neck and tilt it, preparing for the kiss that you've been craving for weeks now. You gently brush your noses together, and your breath audibly shakes. Your eyes shutter closed, and you let your body feel all of the emotions and physical sensations of the moment. You both hesitate for what feels like forever.

You have built up quite a major crush on Austin the past few weeks on set. He's incredibly handsome and so sweet and genuine. You have already filmed some of the less happy scenes, the ones where you are sort of in the background while he's front and center. As soon as you'd read the script, you'd known you were in for a wild ride. You and Austin have spent a lot of time together, and you're great friends now, but...you both just feel the slightest bit awkward. Like there's something between you that you just can't get through. On your side, at least, you know that it's an intense physical attraction which is quickly turning into some form of love. On Austin's side, well...it sometimes seems like the same. But neither of you can be sure nor do you want to out yourself before you're positive the other feels the same.

After what feels like a lifetime, Austin finally presses his soft lips to yours. You kiss him back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults. You move your head back slightly, remembering that the kiss is just supposed to be a sweet, chaste one, but Austin leans forward, refusing to let your lips free. Your fingers instinctively fly up to his face, holding his lips against yours. When you separate, you glance back up at him and realize that neither of you are acting anymore.

"Cut! That was perfect, guys," Baz says with a smile. "Let's reset and do one more take, although I don't think we need it."

While you're resetting the scene, you and Austin sit back down on the ground together. You avoid his eyes.

"That was great improv," he finally says quietly as people rush around you to get the set put back together.

"What are you talking about?"

"Holding my face like that," he says. "It was a great touch. And...very sweet. I liked it."

You have only enough time to smile before Baz yells action once again. You feel both awkward and soothed at his compliment, maybe wondering if Austin could feel the same for you that you feel for him.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“So we’ll just run through a few questions, like maybe five or so, if that sounds alright?”

You nod along with Austin.

“Sounds perfect,” Austin responds with a smile.

You glance over at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking particularly handsome today in a plain white t-shirt, a dark green jacket, and a pair of blue jeans. You subtly bite your lip to keep from smiling at his appearance. You refocus your attention on the interviewer as they get the cameras set up.

“Good to go!” one of the cameramen shouts with a thumbs up.

“Wonderful, so first of all, congratulations on the film! It was absolutely amazing!” the interviewer begins.

“Thank you so much! We’re very, very proud of it!” you answer.

“You definitely should be! So, Austin…” the interviewer directs a question toward your costar, and you allow yourself to zone out for a moment.

“You know it was a lot of work, but having people like Y/N around is one of the reasons I was able to successfully portray Elvis,” Austin answers. “As an actor, you know, you feed off of the energy from the other actors. So it makes all the difference in the world to have someone opposite you who really understands the character and gives you that emotion that you need.”

“Absolutely and, Y/N, obviously playing Priscilla means that you have to be comfortable with conveying a wide range of emotions. How did you channel emotions for the different scenes?”

“Of course, Priscilla goes through a lot in the movie. Being able to chat with the real Priscilla was overwhelmingly helpful. I got to know her as a person, as a mother, and as Elvis’ wife. I got to pick up on some of her mannerisms, the way she moves and talks. It really helped me to imagine how she must have felt at different points during her life. And she is also a woman, so I just tried to relate with her on a human level as well. How would I feel, as a human being, if this was happening to me?”

“That's incredible. And obviously one of the major scenes and plot points of the film is the relationship between Priscilla and Elvis. If I can just say, that kiss scene was absolutely magical!”

As soon as the interviewer mentions the kiss scene, you feel your blood go cold and your muscles tighten. You gulp, trying to force a smile. And god do anything but think back to that moment. To that day when everything had changed for you. Your fingers in your lap begin to dig into your thigh through your jeans. You anxiously scratch at the fabric with a fingernail, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You can feel Austin’s eyes on you, but you stare straight ahead and avoid all eye contact with him. You suddenly feel his fingers grabbing onto yours, pushing your hand out of the way to rest his palm on top of your thigh. You clench your jaw, hoping the interviewer couldn’t see.

“Just so romantic, and it felt incredibly real. As actors, how do you get over the awkwardness to make the audience believe that you’re really in love?”

For some reason, the interviewer looks to you for an answer. You freeze up.

“Well, uh, you know as actors you just…” you glance at Austin for help. His eyes widen when he receives the message.

“You make the best of the situation. Although in this particular case, it was easier than usual,” he says, throwing a sweet smile in your direction. “I didn’t have to do much acting with someone as beautiful as Y/N sitting across from me.”

Your back straightens a little when he squeezes your thigh gently. You glare at him for a quick moment. He winks and bites his lip.

“Oh, I’m sure! Y/N what was it like to see Austin all made up as Elvis? Was he as swoon worthy as the real Elvis?”

“Yes, of course! Our makeup team is very talented, ” you say with nervous laughter.

You make eye contact with Austin and lose your train of thought. You only mean to glance at him, but you can't tear your eyes away. The way he’s looking at you throws you right back into the kiss scene. The tenderness in his bright blue eyes, the ways his plump pink lips are parted gently, looking so inviting. The softness in his demeanor as he leans toward you.

“It was magical,” you finish your sentence, feeling your own eyes soften as they stare into his beautiful blue ones. “Truly magical.”

The rest of the interview goes quickly, without anything of note. Well, besides Austin’s fingers constantly gripping and then releasing the skin of your thigh. Even though you try to pry his fingers off a few times, they somehow always make their way back to that same spot. You huff, eventually allowing them to remain there. And, of course, there are the little glances that you and Austin are shooting at each other every few seconds. As one of the crew members flashes a hand with two fingers raised, you breathe a sigh of relief thinking you've fooled the interviewer.

“I think we have time for one more question. And while I had one planned, I just have to ask a different one. Are you two…” the interviewer pauses, flipping her finger between you and Austin, “...together? Or is all this flirting I’m seeing just for the press?”

You feel the blood drain from your face and freeze. You're taken aback by the bluntness of the question. You’re sure you’re giving the editors a wonderful thumbnail image: you sitting there with wide eyes and a dead straight mouth. Austin just laughs, handling the whole situation with class and style as he always does.

“I think we’ll let you speculate on that for now,” he responds, squeezing your thigh again.

The interviewer cocks an eyebrow as the cameraman shouts to end the interview. They restack their papers and stand.

"I would figure out what your story is," they say, turning to leave. "Before another interviewer comes in who's not as subtle as I am."

You sigh as they leave, still sitting perfectly still, frozen with surprise. The crew members get busy around you, resetting the cameras and taking their five-minute breaks before another interviewer comes into the small room. You avoid everything to do with Austin, refusing to look at him or touch him. Refusing to give him the time of day.

"So, what is it?" Austin says in a low voice.

"What are you talking about, Austin?" you ask, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Our story?" he presses. "What is it?"

You say nothing, just look at him. You gulp as he stares over at you. Your eyes flick down to those lips and you think again about the kiss scene and all of the feelings that had been coursing through your body then return with a vengeance. You lean over the chair, grabbing his face and pressing your lips onto his. You squeeze your eyes shut and kiss him hard until his fingers find your neck, pulling you against him. You can just barely feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile as he kisses you. When you pull back, you gaze into his eyes, and he chuckles softly before speaking.

"Well, I guess that answers my question."

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #milasthings #milasaustincontent #milasfics #milasaustinfics #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic

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ninyard · 3 hours

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WIP Wednesday!

(convince-me-to-make-progress-on-my-wips-Wednesday)

I’ll post the snippets of my current WIPs, you send me an ask, I’ll write some more. I think that’s how this works. So! What are my WIPs?

- Jeremy’s first banquet

He was not so lucky to avoid his mother before making it outside.

"Oh, Jeremy, you look so handsome," She straightened his tie and held his face in her hands. "You enjoy yourself tonight, and make sure you send me pictures of Kelsey in her dress."

Kelsey was the girl he'd made up in order to keep her prying questions at bay. He'd told her that she was from his English class, and they'd met on the first day of classes. It had been fun for a moment to create this woman in his mind, concocting her story. It was fun until he realised how deep the hole that he'd been digging for himself had become. Now his mom wanted pictures of a girl who didn't exist.

"Of course," He lied with a winning smile. "But I really have to go, mom. I don't want to be late."

- Stefan!Neil au

”I would never lie about this.” Neil said. Andrew wiped the blood from his finger onto the dark fabric of his tie. “And I might not understand who I am in the way that you do, or Nicky does, or anyone else in the fucking world does, but I know how I feel. And it’s true.”

”I don’t care.” Andrew said, and it was the truth. “I don’t believe you.”

”That’s up to you.” He still felt like he was running off of adrenaline, and perhaps his only coping mechanism was to simply make it worse on himself. “I won’t bring it up again.”

Andrew sucked his teeth and shook his head. ”A promise you’ll surely break by sunrise.”

- Andrew’s Baltimore POV

”Okay, forgive me if this is a bit fucking messy, but the quick answer is that Neil’s alive.” Kevin couldn’t hold back the massive sigh of relief that left his lungs, putting his head in his hands as David continued. “He’s with the FBI, and it’s a… long drive down. So,” He leaned against the top chair, where Dan was sat forward, suddenly wide awake and listening to every word. “They’re going to be bringing us all in for questioning. Abby is getting me a coffee, and we’re going to hit the road.”

”Wait,” Aaron sat up then, half groggy from the nap he’d be woken from. “Why are we being questioned?”

”Because he’s been with us for the past ten months,” David said, as if it were obvious. “And I’m telling you all now so it’s not a surprise, they are refusing to call him Neil. However you feel about that is up to you, but we can talk about the details when we get to Baltimore. Point is, he’s with them, we’re going to pick up the other three at the hospital,” Andrew didn’t miss the quick glance he sent his way. “And then we’re going to bring him home. Any objections?”

- Andrew and Bee

(tw; drake, self harm)

“He liked knives. I developed my healthiest habit so he couldn’t own that feeling.”

“That feeling,” She repeated with a nod, ignoring his sarcasm. “The physical sensation, or the feeling of control?”

He considered that for a moment. “If we’re being so simple about it, I would say both.” It was not easy to explain the reasons why he did anything that he did. He imagined it was not easy for anyone to explain why they would do such a thing, and perhaps if Betsy could ask the right question it would be easier to understand, but for the most part it had been for two reasons; survival and control. It helped him in his worst moments to feel alive, to feel like the pain did not belong to anyone else except for himself, to know that the sharp end of any weapon did not belong the any one person. “Coping, is that what you call it? Dealing with things in the only way you know how? Fighting fire with fire.”

#what’s the worst that could happen right?!?#this might flop #and if I get overwhelmed I’ll probably switch off asks #but let’s see!!! if u can get me to work on things I’ve been avoiding!!!#wip wednesday #aftg #all for the game #tsc #the sunshine court #if u see my delete this late don’t worry about it

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guardmesherlock-rowan · 3 months

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January Prompt: Envelope p3.

For SherlockChallenge's January prompt

Thirdly, our other morally grey individuals

Jeremy Cassel, Edward Hyde, Henry Jekyll under the cut

Jeremy Cassel

MC froze, they had been opening the tin for their tea and then suddenly saw a string follow the lid up. They pulled on the string and were amused when they found a little envelope attached to the end of it. The note inside was written with a flourish, ‘Bonjour, mon chéri. I cannot express the heartbreak I felt last night when I realized I would not get to see the morning light on your sleeping face. An opportunity has presented itself and I cannot miss it, no matter how much I regret the timing. This is a little reminder of how much I love you.’

They chuckled and sent Jeremy a quick ‘good morning’ text. However, it was unread. Shaking their head, they assumed he was busy went about getting ready for their day. But throughout the house, they found several more notes.

On top of their clothes for the day, ‘while you don your beautiful wardrobe, please remember how I long to caress you as the fabric does.’

Inside their satchel, ‘If only it were I going along with you during your busy day.’

Stashed among their toiletries, ‘take care of that smile I cherish so much, I cannot wait to see it again when I return.’

Even inside their shoes, ‘Every step we take when apart are only promises of our continued journey together.’

With a disbelieving chuckle, they messaged Jeremy, ‘how many notes have you hidden?’

‘Far more than you will be able to find before I return you to my arms. Just to make sure you thought of me as often as I think of you.’ –winky face-

Edward Hyde

Edward took a calming breath and put on a smile before he entered the apartment, whatever tension he still had washed away as MC looked up from their spot on the sofa and smiled at him. The way they looked so warm curled up around a book. He had worried that with them living together that-

He shook his head, ignoring the thought as he moved to the sofa and flopped down next to her.

“How was your day?” They asked him, setting the book on the coffee table. “Henry reached out saying he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“He did, did he?” The tightening was returning as he frowned. “Guess I’ll have to call him later to let him know how it went.” He pulled MC closer to him, “but before that, how was your day? Did you miss me?” He smirked at them, leaning towards them.

The colour on their cheeks made him grin, he pulled them onto his lap. “There we go, this is what I’ve been missing all day.” He leaned forward and nibbled on their neck, enjoying how they squirmed.

“Hm? What’s this?” He felt them moving and then felt something tug at his coat.

His vision flashed white as he pushed them off of him and he jumped up, his hand flying to the inner pocket that had held the large envelope. Empty. His focus narrowed on the envelope in their hand as they were sprawled on the floor. “What do you think you’re doing!? Was-!?”

“Edward?!” The tremor in their voice seemed to shake him and he collapsed to his knees next to them.

“I- I’m sorry…” He couldn’t look at them, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but… are you okay?” They slowly sat up, and the way they carefully moved seemed to twist the pang of guilt deeper into his gut.

“…” He held out his hand and when he saw them reach out for his hand he snarled, “the envelope.” His teeth gritted, he couldn’t believe that he couldn’t control himself better.

There was a moment where neither of them moved, and just as he was getting the courage to look them in the face, the envelope was set in his hand. As if that was his green light, he quickly wrapped his hand around it, crumpling it slightly as he hurriedly stood up and made his way toward the door.

“Edward? Where are you going?” Their voice was soft as they called after him, he could feel his heart breaking as he heard the fear, and he wanted to comfort them.

He spun on his heel and barked out at them, “I love you!” And then slammed the door on his way out. He stormed away from the apartment, half way down the staircase he punched a hole in the wall with a shout.

He couldn’t believe he did that.

Once the cold air hit Edward’s face he pulled out his phone to call Henry, to update him on the information he received about their parents, and to ask him to check on MC.

Henry Jekyll

The knock on the door startled MC out of the script she was in the middle of reading. They stared for a moment before they were able to recognize that this was not part of their script. They opened the door, greeted the delivery man with a smile, and signed for the package. It was only when they brought it inside that they noticed that the name on the package was Henry’s. MC looked over it for any kind of clue as to what it could be. But it was very discrete and even searching the name of the sender gave no results.

Finally, MC took a photo of the package and sent it to Henry, ‘you got a package here?’

The reply was almost immediate. ‘The computer defaulted to your place, apologies. Thank you for signing for it.’ MC smiled, but then it was quickly followed up by a second message, ‘please don’t open it.’ Their eyes widened at the request.

MC’s gaze slipped to the package, their curiosity peaked. Wanting to figure out what could be inside it, they lifted the box and it felt light, as if it was practically empty, and there was an urge to shake it, but when they thought of the lab equipment that he would sometimes use they set it back down.

It felt like forever before Henry stopped by, he leaned forward giving MC a soft kiss on the cheek before he reached for the parcel.

“What’s in it?” MC finally asked.

Henry’s eyes widened for a moment before he looked away, and MC could see the colour rising on his cheek. “It’s actually…” Henry silently looked at the box before he sighed and set it down, opening it in front of them. Inside under a lot of padding was a well protected collectors box for Midfall Murders. One that had Signatures on the case, including their own.

“I sometimes forget you’re a fan.” MC chuckled, hiding their grin behind their hand.

“I enjoyed your performance in it.”

“This has the blooper reel, doesn’t it?”

“Blooper reel, director commentary, and even a little documentary about real world inspiration that was used for the characters.”

MC stepped closer to read the list, before she looked up at him, “do you want to stay and watch it here with me?”

“I would love that.”

#guard me sherlock #sherlock challenge prompt #Jeremy Cassel #Henry Jekyll #Edward Hyde #TW: threat of violence #TW: MC is pushed by one of the guys #Angst for Hyde

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beardedmrbean · 1 year

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OKLAHOMA CITY - Eleven weeks after an Oklahoma City metro man vanished from his Forest Park home, his mother continues the desperate search for her son.

Jeremy Reagan's truck was found abandoned at the Lexington Wildlife Preserve in August.

News 9's Sylvia Corkill reported Sunday night from the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation.

Last week, an OSBI spokesperson told News 9 that there were no new developments in the case, frustrating news for Jeremy's family.

"They've had the case for ten weeks now, and I don't feel like we're any closer to find my son then on Day 1," said Robin Halzle, Jeremy Reagan's mother.

Since late August, Jeremy's family has spent nearly every weekend driving from out of state to the Lexington Wildlife Preserve, where his pickup truck was recovered in Cleveland County, a place the survivalist was known to spend countless hours.

"It literally consumes me at every moment. I've had a rough few days. I've done nothing but cry for days," Halzle said.

The initial search efforts have tapered off, now limited to Jeremy's loved ones.

"Everybody else may have forgotten that he's still missing, but I have not. We have not. Everyone goes on with their lives, and I can't," she said.

Jeremy's mother's desperation grows with each passing season.

"Now it's winter and it's cold, but I will keep going out there until they don't allow me in the gates," she said.

With no signs of Jeremy recovered from these woods, his mother questions if he's still here.

"If my son walked away from his life, I still want to find him as long as I know he's OK," Halzle said.

"If my son is dead in those woods, I just want him home."

If you have any information about this case, contact OSBI.

If you're new here within the last couple months, we've been looking for this guy since day 1 that he went missing.

First update I've seen in a good while, his family missed the hell out of him so if you've seen him or someone that might be him all it costs is a little bit of time to phone it in.

I know bunch of us have issues with the cops in general, be good if you ignored that part of your brain in this case.

Hopefully can get him found and give the family something huge to celebrate this year for Thanksgiving.

#missing person #I keep looking #wish I could be more helpful

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jeremy-queere · 16 days

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im actually gonna liveblog my own thoughts about those last few chaps of my fic, which are basically always going to be "i'm hilarious actually" but yknow. specific lines. minor spoilers ig

>be jeremy >tell rich about how you fixed the giant issue where yelling at a squip can turn off every squip in the network >by telling him this aloud, you just alerted the squips to this security flaw >mfw i destroyed the easiest way to save the world without a second thought: :) >still smilling at rich, ready for praise >rich short circuits.

plus with the shutdown that christine mentioned this chapter. it's almost like ? jeremy isn't coming at this from a perspective of wanting to turn squips off???? and never even bothered researching that option??? 😂 bonkers. who'd have thought

i fully recognize that having a coder POV say "The bugs, miraculously, became rarer and smaller" is the biggest ask in the fic in terms of suspension of disbelief. maybe when jeremy is better at this they'll realize they were wrong about that. not in a "this update is secretly a time bomb" way but in a "holy shit i can't believe i used to think this was good programming" way

i still think it's funny whenever i reference jeremy muting themself after the FIRST TIME it came up where jeremy acknowledged that "muting themself wasn't any different from a human just choosing not to speak." i love my weird robot child.

i still like the "C-c-c-c'mon, Jeremy, can't you see, we've got a date, so concentrate! We'll start with us, just me and you, some deja vu, and then ensue: your microchip plus our friendship-" implying "the squip" being sung in the same lovestruck voice as the chorus usually sings "christine."

^ i usually pick a song to write the summary from based solely on vibes and character focus. the fact that this was from Upgrade rather than two player game was a dead giveaway regarding michael's intentions btw.

writing michael after that last mall scene has been so weird. on purpose. but like everything he says is a catchy line ending on a discordant note. the sudden pivot from slowburn to joking about having sex and humanity = romance. every time michael interrupts or talks over jeremy instead of going out of his way to set a good example, i wince lol. encouraging them to stop thinking so much. ignoring every one of jeremy's soft "no"s because they're inconvenient. Here Are Our Stereotypical Nerd Spots and Here Is Your Mandated Giant Teddy Bear and Here Is My Secret Condom. (jeremy sprinted into the sunset before we got to that part and we all thank them for it.) jeremy never once having indicated that they wanted to actually have sex any time soon but michael did everything in his power to make sure the date would end that way without a single worry about what jeremy told them about chloe.

i don't think it's spoilers to clarify that michael was in the driver's seat for all of that, but was in a situation where he was very incentivized to listen to the SQUIP. and jeremy looooves squips so obviously the SQUIP is the expert on this, not michael :P

madeline offscreen: constant orgies, pretending to be from paris, scheming femme fatale madeline for the 2.3 seconds she was onscreen: i swear quebec is better than people give it credit for wait don't go-

jeremy's definition of breaking up with someone is, consistently, running away from an emotionally charged moment and convincing themself that they hate them. lol.

christine accusing jeremy of talking at her was also a direct response to the author trying to get on their wikipedia-level-of-philosophy-knowledge soapbox again. btw on that note, observation selection effect seems to only be mentioned in places as a synonym for the anthropic principle. it is more specific than how jeremy defines it, being an existential thing about how "the range of possible observations that could be made about the universe is limited by the fact that observations could happen only in a universe capable of developing intelligent life" (~ wikipedia <3). i get away with a lot of bullshit claims, some of them even intentionally bullshit, bc the character making those claims is reading even less of the wikipedia article than i am.

but that was transparently just a nod to the book being one of the many parallel universes that are foundational to how the squip works in canon

speaking of references that delight me and me alone, in-character phantom of the opera reference re: pageboy

i think all the main/supporting cast all think they're the main characters. except jeremy! not because of jeremy 1.0's insistence that he's not a leading man, but because they have been so busy with observing themself that they haven't even considered anyone else observing them and coming to different conclusions. (see: the PA system joke with michael which alerted the ENTIRE SCHOOOOooool 🎶 to their situation, which in jeremy's narrative, was just a gag as part of a longer fun flirty convo with michael, brought up for laughs and then forgotten.) (it's not like it's plot relevant as in that it doomed them or anything, but just a signal that not everyone perceives the fic events like jeremy does!!)

they're trying to learn to be less self-absorbed (and i'm not saying that as an insult so much as an accurate description of their default thought patterns) but it IS a learning curve. for all their self-reflection, i would describe them as a very reactive person, which is also probably why they (along with jeremy 1.0 and keanu squip) constantly struggle/d with needing a sense of control

im aware that despite christine's in-character criticism of the narrative i wrote 🙃 that she's here for exposition and emotional closure. she knows and she's not happy about it. it's a consequence of writing the story i wanted to tell but that doesn't make it immune from criticism. it's a good question for me, that the story i wanted to tell DID involve removing her agency so much. but i don't see that as a question that needs a direct answer or for me to defend so much as something to reflect on after it's over. in the meantime christine ma'am i'll give you something good in the epilogue i prommy, and i'll add something about this to my notes now that i think about it.

#ooim

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thedramaticgazette · 23 days

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I saw the first ever preview of Great Gatsby on Broadway. Here are my (pretty negative) thoughts.

Before I begin, I am just writing this for fun. This is not serious, and it's all my own opinion. We're all entitled to our own. I go on tangents as well so know this is more than a review. If you'd like to read more reviews, I try to upload once a week. ALSO THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS REVIEW.

On Friday, March 29th, 2024 I went to see The Great Gatsby on Broadway. It was their first preview, first time ever on a Broadway stage with a paying audience. My friend and I went, bought tickets the moment they went on sale. We sat back orchestra, not to the wall but close. Despite it's hype...it was a tad underwhelming.

_________________________________________________

Let's discuss the Headliners.

The show is commercialized as "Featuring Jeremy Jordan and Eva Noblezada" which I understand is to rake in revenue necessary to keep the show running, but I hate when shows do that. I feel like it takes away from the work and talent of everyone else involved in the cast. Jeremy Jordan is a Broadway phenomenon, almost everyone knows his name. He is best known for his role as Jack Kelly in Newsies, but has since then gone on to do a ton of projects and concerts including the Greatest Showman's workshop, where he so famously discusses at a concert of his how he lost the role to Zac Efron. He's been in Little Shop Off-Broadway, which I had the pleasure of seeing him in and will definitely post a review of because it was a breathtaking performance from everyone involved but - I digress. My point is that everyone loves Jeremy Jordan. He is placed on this pedestal above everyone else, a renowned Broadway actor. He plays the leading man, Jay Gatsby, who has been in love with one Daisy Fay, now Daisy Buchanan, since they met years before when he was about to leave for war. Daisy is played by Eva Noblezada, a Broadway superstar best known for her role as Euridyce in Hadestown, or as superfans know her, as Kim in Miss Saigon. I had the pleasure of meeting both, Eva as she snuck out of a different stage door as the mob at the actual stage door was panic attack inducing, where she thanked us for coming and we chatted for a few. I met Jeremy after a Little Shop performance back in August, and he was one of the douchiest men I have ever met in my life.

And let me preface this all by saying that I cannot imagine how annoying it must be to feel like you have to be "on" all the time for people. Like you're an enigma people just want to look at, and all. I don't know a thing about showbiz. I do know, however, that it isn't too hard to be kind.

I cannot imagine how annoying it is to stage door all the time - to have so much privacy ripped away when you are as renowned as you are in the theater world - a world that so famously does not understand boundaries. But would it fucking KILL YOU to be the teensiest bit kind? Jordan threw my pen back at me after we met, barely signing my playbill. It looked like a chore to be out there, and there were only about 20 of us waiting at stage door that day. I assume, and this is coming from someone who knows next to nothing, that he doesn't HAVE to do stage door. If I'm wrong, ignore everything above. But if it's his choice, then don't fucking come out! I'd rather not meet someone if they're going to be rude than meet someone who makes me feel like it's annoying that I'm there.

All that being said, Jeremy's voice is no doubt superb. It's soft but passionate and I could listen to it for hours. He does, however, lack any wow factor when it comes to acting this role. He is able to reach in and become the character when he sings, but during speaking scenes I felt like I was watching a bad high schooler. Also, here's a game you can play if you go to see it. TAKE A FUCKING SHOT every time Jeremy Jordan says the term "Old Sport" in the show. You'll have alcohol poisoning by the end of it. I understand we wanted accuracy from the book and that that phrase has a lot of meaning for Gatsby's character but MAN the way Jordan says it made me want to swallow a pair of jorts or something.

Noblezada has a voice clearer than the seas in the Caribbean. It cuts like glass. She is an incredible performer, every note looks and sounds effortless. She did, in my opinion (and who the fuck am i, really) act Daisy much like she did Eurydice though. Her performance is lovely, per usual at the center of it all.

The letdowns.

Woof. First I'll start with Paul Whitty. Good fucking lord. What the hell??? How was he the choice for George Wilson. His voice wasn't as bad as someone else's who I'll discuss further down, but I mean. No one else? Really? Is no one searching in the casting calls that 200 people are in line for almost every week? His songs were lackluster and felt like an afterthought, space that needed filling. Second, I'm a huge fan of Eric Anderson, I saw him many times in the 394790173493 times I've gone to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway, and he was fantastic every time (per my review you can find on my page.) However, his performance as Meyer Wolfsheim was...boring to say the least. His character, granted, has very little stage time and only one big number, which opens Act II and while the choreo was very flashy, it wasn't anything like the Bad Romance x Toxic opening of Act II that Moulin Rouge has. Third, I think John Zdrojeski was the most confusing choice to play Tom Buchanan, Daisy's abusive, cheating husband. He's pretty nice to look at, sure. But his voice? Jesus Christmas they couldn't find ANYONE else?!?!!? Maybe it's because he had five singing lines total that I couldn't get a better feel of his voice, or maybe that choice was made on purpose because they knew Zdrojeski was gonna play him but his voice sucks so much. SO SO much. His vibrato sounded forced and the melody sounded off, it felt like they put him on stage just because he was a pretty good actor and had abs.

There were a few mishaps in terms of head pieces falling off - which I got the pleasure of hearing about from the costume people who sat behind me and discussed notes during intermission and many of the dresses looked quite baggy on the dancers, but otherwise it seemed pretty accurate.

The best parts.

My favorite, by far, was Samantha Pauly as Jordan Baker. She is the standout for me, capturing Jordan's essence perfectly. Spunky, doesn't give a fuck and a girl's girl. The costume choices for Jordan's character were done exquisitely as well, and Pauly's voice was show stopping. Noah J. Ricketts as Nick Carraway was another showstopper. Not only is he nice to look at, he's nice to listen to. His voice is smooth like butta, his acting is great and I loved the back and forth he and Pauly's characters had. The set was a wow factor for sure - if this is nominated for any Tony's (I'll be as surprised as Gatsby when Daisy turns him down if there aren't) the set should surely win. Created by Paul Tate dePoo III, the set glides on and off, the projections work seamlessly and overall I was in awe of the glitter and gold of it all. Platforms erupt from the floor in a nonchalant way, as if to say "we had all the money in the world for this show." The choreo, was also one of the best things to watch. Choreographed by the well-rounded and talented Dominique Kelley, the choreo captures the era of this show (NYC 1922) well. I loved her choice for a tap number as much as I enjoyed the acrobatic-esque moves she made for the stellar, electric ensemble. All toes were pointed, all legs were extended, and it's clear, or it translated to the audience, that that was a part of the show everyone was confident in.

Sara Chase, who plays Myrtle Wilson deserved so much more stage time. What a fucking voice. Her energy, her lack of empathy for anyone but herself, I mean shit. She was so good. They didn't do her justice, but then again I forgot the Wilson's were even a part of the book until I saw the show again. Two of the dresses she wore (one being a very impressive on stage quick change where a literal rolling clothing hanger like the ones in malls rolls in front of her and when its past her shes in an entirely new dress) looked very baggy and her character's wig was god awful, looking like it was plucked out of an amazon package 10 minutes before curtain. But she was impressive regardless.

The music was pretty entertaining, written by Jason Howland with lyrics by Nathan Tysen. The songs "New Money," "The Met" and Gatsby's ballad "Past is Catching Up to Me" were star songs and have been stuck in my head for days. The ending of Act I "My Green Light" which has been teased on all of GG's social media accounts was as good as it sounded. There is no doubt that Jordan and Noblezada will go down in history as two of the most impressive singers on Broadway.

If you have the chance to see it, I think you should. Not for more than, like $150 with the way ticket prices are but it's definitely worth the music, set and Samantha Pauly.

Best part though? Every seat was given a mini copy of the book. My seat, however, apparently had the only signed copy of the book in the theater. So, thats pretty fucking sick.

Until next show,

Dramatic Gazzette

#musical #theater #musical theater #musicals #hadestown #great gatsby #broadway #theatre #eva noblezada #theater kid #moulin rouge

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demonnapologist · 3 months

Text

When Andre met Nikki [canon scene]

Andre came in to the main lobby with determination. He was going to get to the bottom of this. The lobby was decorated with beautiful white furniture and plants, instrumental music played, and there were women of different ages lounging on their phones. He saw the reception desk on the other side of the room and one woman working the printer behind the desk, her back turned to him.

He marched through the jungle of decor and relaxed women though some looked baffled to see a man here.

"Hey. Excuse me," Andre said with a strong tone, but when Nikki turned to see him, all the strength he had melted. His knees felt weak, he felt breathless like he was punched in the gut.

She stared at him for a few moments, her eyes looking at his. Andre's eyes wandered everywhere, enticed with every curl of her long hair and curve of her body. Her rouge, glossy lips parted to ask a question, but Andre pleaded quickly, "Can you please tell me your name?"

Andre's mind raced about her beauty. How can someone have so much of it? Where has she been all his life? She had to be The One!

Before Nikki could respond to any of Andre's theatrical reactions to her, Jeremy's voice called out to her from the elevator. The two looked over at him. The older man sauntered over, a bright smug grin on his face. "Is he bothering you, sweet pea?"

"Uhm, I don't think so," Nikki said. It wasn't new for a man to confess feelings for her but this would occur after a few dates, she never seen this man before. She was racking her brain to think if she did. He had a beautiful deep skin tone with red wild hair. His dark jeans and shirt made him look like a regular, rough city guy but he had been adoring her since they locked eyes. Like a puppy, she thought.

"What's your business here, kid?" Jeremy asked and towered over Andre. He kept his smug grin.

"I just came in to look at this place. I've never been here before," Andre frowned.

"It's obvious you've never been here. The demographic here is mostly women. A little heaven on earth, if you will. I do have ask you to leave."

"And what for? What did I do?" Andre shouted, pissed off. Nikki gasped. Was he yelling at Jeremy?

"I'm the VP and frankly, I just don't want you here. So you can leave on your own or I'll get security to throw you out. Exactly like in the movies, too."

Andre exhaled slowly, glaring at the taller man. His freckles were stupid and so were his eyes. "Fine," Andre bitterly said, but a fuse went off in his head anyway. None of his friends or family were here to stop him. So fuck it.

He swung at Jeremy and walked off.

"You little worm!" Jeremy muffled as his hands covered his bleeding nose. The women all gasped and huddled for protection. Andre ignored the fearful gazes and left the building. That would teach that VP to think twice.

"You okay?" Nikki asked Jeremy, giving him tissues from her desk.

"Yeah," Jeremy answered and looked at her harshly, "If he comes back again, you call me. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

#writing #canon #nikki #andre #nikkixandre #jeremy

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nonbigalmari · 5 months

Text

[This is a therapy ordered video transcript of my time at my mom and her boyfriend's Thanksgiving party, written in third person because that's easier.]

[The camera is facing a room full of people, Mari the one holding the camera drops to the floor. Making only the peoples legs visible.]

M: [Whispered.] Jesus christ why are there so many fucking people.

[The camera jolts as Mari looks around, moving their hand as they do. After a while they stop, loud music is heard in the background as people start dancing.]

M: Fucking hell, I wish I could just leave. [Whispered.] I swear if Sarah or Ness are here.

[Mari looks around again, the camera again following their movement. After a while they spot someone wearing a light purple shirt sitting in a corner, they begin slowly moving towards the figure. Noticeably having short brown hair and blue eyes.]

M: Hi… Uh… I'm Mari?

[The man jumps, before hiding his face in embarrassment.]

?: Jesus Christ, you scared me… Sorry about that. Hi.

M: Uh… What's your name? I uh, told you mine. I think.

Jer: Uh. Jeremy. Hi.

[He reaches out for a handshake, then puts his hand back down.]

Jer: Nevermind, too formal. Uh… hi.

M: Hi, can I sit against the wall with you?

Jer: Sure… I mean, I don’t know anyone here, so it’s not like the spot’s taken.

M: Cool, and uh… Ignore the phone? Therapist asked me to record potentially stressful moments so.

[Jeremy nods.]

Jer: Ah, makes sense. My therapist used to try to get me to do that, but I kept forgetting.

M: Yeah uh… Yeah.

[Mari moves over to the wall, the camera now again facing the rest of the party.]

M: Funny story, only reason I'm here is because my mom's boyfriend bribed me.

[Jeremy laughs.]

Jer: I’m here for the food, honestly. I didn’t really have any plans, so… here I am.

[He thinks for a second.]

Jer: Oh, also, did you want a drink? I meant to bring one out to my friend, but she didn’t want it, so…

M: Sure. Uh wait, is it alcoholic? I only drink alcohol on some occasions.

[Jeremy raises an eyebrow.]

Jer: You look awfully young to be drinking. But no, it’s not, it’s a can of Dr Pepper.

[He offers it to them.]

Jer: Careful, also, I dropped it a bit ago.

M: Oh cool.

[The camera shakes as Mari grabs the can of soda.]

M: Also uh yeah. I'm only 21.

Jer: Oh, my bad. I thought you were under the age for stuff like that.

[He pauses for a second.]

Jer: … So…

[He doesn’t know what to say.]

M: You like video games?

[Jeremy’s eyes light up.]

Jer: Shit, man, do I! What kind do you like?

M: I mean, Role playing games are fun, and I also play some wrestling games too… Besides that I don't really own a lot of games. Hard to afford them.

Jer: That’s fair, I only have some because my parents got them for me a while back. They’re pretty messed up now because of how old they are. But personally, I’m a fan of uh… I like horror a lot actually. And uh… apart from that, I don’t play much. Other than, like, Minecraft.

M: You hear about that beta testing gig? Opening up next month? I hate to sound like every person in town but like… We're talking about games so.

Jer: I did! I’m actually considering trying that out, since like… it’s Freddy’s related, I think. That place always seemed weird, so I was curious.

M: Wasn't there a location that burnt down here in town a while ago?

Jer: Yeah, and if I’m right, there was even one before that that burnt down. Weird shit, I’m telling you. Some people are saying it’s haunted and stuff too.

M: I don't believe in a lot of that stuff, honestly seems like connecting threads that aren't there. But it is what it is, I'm gonna try out just for the money.

Jer: Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that place was haunted, but I get where you’re coming from. I’m also doing it for the money, ha!

M: Yeah, my uh… My mom is actually paying so I don't get kicked out of my apartment currently so…

Jer: That’s fair, my friend and I are both working to try to deal with the apartment situation, but we’re behind a couple payments… But shh, don’t tell anyone.

[Jeremy makes a shushing noise, bringing his finger over his lips, trying to hide a playful grin.]

M: Don't worry bro, I won't tell.

Jer: Thanks, you’re a real one. So… do you know like… any of the people in this room?

M: I mean, my mom and her boyfriend. I think some of my old high-school friends are here. Hence why I'm in a disguise. Blue hair instead of red, uh… Actually wearing makeup outside my house.

Jer: That makes sense. Bad memories and stuff, or…?

M: Yeah uh… Less anything they did just, very traumatic things tied to them y'know?

Jer: Ah, I get that. Oh–

M: Wha-

[Mari turns around, the camera following suit.]

[Jeremy is looking to his side, and downwards.]

M: [Whispered.] IS THAT A FUCKIN’ KID?

Jer: Yes, and they’re looking at me.

[The child seen tugging on Jeremy's shirt, has medium length brown hair that looks as if it hasn't been brushed in days, they are wearing a dirty red hoodie, with multiple scrapes on their face and hands.]

?: Pizza?

M: Wha-

[Jeremy glances over at the pizza table, then back at the kid.]

Jer: Uh… Over there?

[The child looks towards the pizza table, then looks back at Jeremy. Their green eyes start to water. When they speak again their tone is finally picked up, they seem sad. As if in pain.]

?: I do not like the adults, they scare me.

Jer: Oh, uh…

[Jeremy seems to be thinking about something really difficult, based on tone.]

M: Do you need a distraction?

[Mari sounds severely annoyed.]

Jer: I can help. I know exactly what I must do.

M: Do you. Want a. Fuckin’ distraction.

Jer: Watch your language, that’s a kid. But yes.

M: Ugh, this is going to suck more than if I had to fight seven evil exes.

Jer: For a good cause. I’ll owe you.

M: Ok, Ready. I'm going to run on that stage and go ham on the drums. This has to be timed perfectly.

Jer: I’ve got this, give me a second.

[Mari throws the phone in the kids direction, when the camera readjusts Jeremy's back is now visible.]

[Jeremy pulls out his phone, sends a quick message, then nods at Mari.]

Jer: Ready.

M: Ok. When I start counting you run to the table got it?

Jer: I’ve got it.

M: Cool. Kid film this.

?: Sure.

[Mari ducks down and begins sprinting out of frame. After a few seconds microphone static is heard.]

M: [Over a microphone.] Um ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!

[Jeremy scoops up the kid and runs to the pizza table, grabbing a box and, as quickly as possible, sprinting out through the front door of the house.]

S: [From inside the house.] THAT GUY JUST STOLE A KID AND A PIZZA WHILE MARI DISTRACTED US WITH MEGALOVANIA!

?: Should we wait on the person who owns this phone-

[Behind them, the sound of a door being kicked open and someone being chased.]

M: CAR CAR GET IN A CAR!

Jer: GOT IT. GOT IT.

[Jeremy runs in the direction of a white car. It looks a bit old, but he swings the door open anyway.]

Jer: EVERYONE IN.

?: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TIME?

Jer: JUST GO. JUST GO.

M: OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR! DIPSHIT!

Jer: I’M CARRYING A KID, ASSHAT.

[The kid crawls over and opens the door out of frame, passing the phone back to Mari as multiple people shout.]

M: DRIVE!

?: ON IT, BUT I SWEAR TO GOD–

[The car speeds off, leaving the crowd behind.]

M: Hi, I'm Mari… Who are you?

Jen: I’m Jenny. A very pissed off Jenny.

Jer: Listen, I–

Jen: Shut.

M: In his defense, he stole the pizza for a homeless… I think homeless at least kid.

?: Yes.

[The woman driving, apparently named Jenny, looks at the kid through the rear view mirror.]

Jen: … Oh, that’s… Okay, that makes more sense.

Jer: See? I’m not a delinquent.

[Jenny raises her eyebrows.]

Jer: … Not a delinquent for no reason.

Jen: That works.

M: I mean… I burnt a mall down on accident once so.

Jen: I’m sorry??

[Jenny almost looks back at Mari, but tries to keep her eyes on the road.]

Jen: I’ll need that story in a bit.

M: Do you use tumblr? I can like… Send it to you.

Jen: Yeah, how could you tell? Just the energy, or the nerdy soundtracks playing right now?

M: Lucky guess.

Jer: The soundtracks.

Jen: Shut up, you.

[There’s a moment of silence.]

Jen: So, based on… everything in this situation, it’s probably obvious I’m not entirely used to being a getaway driver, Jeremy.

Jer: Listen.

M: Yo kid want a free wig.

?: Wha-

M: Cool, catch.

[The sound of something shuffling, and then being thrown into the kids lap.]

Jen: Speaking of the kid, do you have a name, sweetheart?

[Jenny looks at the kid again through the rear view mirror.]

Sp: S- Sparrow… I think? Yeah, Sparrow… Or… Hm, nevermind.

[Jenny pauses for a second.]

Jen: That’s a lovely name… Um. So… Sparrow, do you have anywhere you’re staying, or…?

Sp: The um… The back of the pizza hut.

[Jenny thinks again for a moment.]

Jen: … Do you need anything?

Sp: A roof would be nice.

Jer: Well, that’s… I mean, you may be able to stay with us for a couple nights?

Jen: I think that’s possible… And you too, Mari. If you need.

M: Meh I have my house, I just can't let anyone in for a few days.

Sp: My mom's boyfriend won't let me back in the house, I don't know why. He also kept calling me um… Hm, a name that… Seems familiar. Dunno why though.

Jen: Ah, that’s… You can stay with us for a while, Sparrow. We don’t have a lot, but it’s hopefully better than behind a Pizza Hut.

Sp: They give me free leftovers sometimes.

M: Hey uh… Do you need some new clothes? If uh… Jenny doesn't mind stopping, uh… I'll buy you some.

Sp: Um… Ms Jenny?

Jen: Oh, no need! I do stuff like that all the time for cosplays and stuff, I’m sure I could make something for you, if you want, Sparrow…

Sp: COSPLAYS! WOW! I uh… Sorry, I've seen those before… Never met someone who did that stuff though.

Jen: I have for the past few years, in my spare time…

Jer: Yeah, for Homest-

Jen: SHUT.

Jer: Yes ma’am.

M: What.

[Mari can be heard looking for something.]

M: I FORGOT MY FUCKIN’ CHICKEN STRIPS.

Jen: I’m sorry, you meant to just… bring them on your escape?

M: My mom's boyfriend bribed me to come to his dumb party with 300 bucks and a bag of chicken strips.

Jer: Well, we can bribe you not to tell the cops about anything that has happened here with McDonald’s.

M: You realize if I told the cops, I'd get in trouble too right?

Jer: Just give me an excuse here.

Jen: Fine, we can stop at McDonald’s.

Jer: Hell yeah.

Sp: Hell yeah?

[Jeremy reaches back to fistbump Sparrow.]

Jer: Hell. Yeah.

M: How old are you anyway?

Sp: Thirteen.

Jer: Oh, so you can curse. My bad. Damn, what is with me and thinking everyone’s younger than they are today?

Jen: How old am I?

Jer: Well-

Jen: Answer carefully.

M: Wuh oh-

[Jeremy looks like he’s actually nervous, while Jenny is trying not to laugh.]

Jer: … 23?

Jen: … You pass for now. I’m 24, loser.

Jer: I’m the loser?

Jen: Yeah. Loser.

M: Hey, you're only 3 years older than me.

Jen: Hey, you’re only 3 years younger than me.

Jer: Hey, we’re only 3 turns away from the apartment.

Jen: Shut.

Sp: I am confused.

M: I should probably turn off the video huh? I'm alright to transcribe this and post it right? Tumblr people are cool.

Jen: I mean, as long as none of our, like… super personal information is in there, which it shouldn’t be, so sure!

M: Cool. Uh I'm going to end this now.

[End transcript.]

#fnaf ask blog #fnaf vr ask blog #fnaf vr au #original story #transcript

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