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unknowconcreteflower-art-blog-me · 4 years

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Why Husker will be the driving force to save Angel Dust; Instagram deep-dive story! Angelhusk explained.

Okay full disclosure Hazbin Hotel is an adult cartoon has dark touchy subject matter so please tread carefully. This goes into shipper territory and I don’t want to get attack in my inbox about this or attacking each other too much shipping wars plus I’m a multi-shipper... But for the sake of this post it’s going to be all fuel Angelhusk (or Huskerdust), yes okay great thank you. This is a continuation of my previous post which was just a prequel to this one. I ended the post saying Husker will be the one to reach out to Angel and helping him.

First I’ll be breaking down Husker’s first appearance and how his character is. When Alastor first summons him, he’s very pissed off when he’s pulled from the poker game. And he’s very quick show his anger, without fear despite Alastor being “one of the most powerful demons in Hell”, and does not care. Though this is a very short interaction we know that Husker does not put up with BS, he’s a drinker, and a poker player. How is this important to Angel Dust? Well Angel Dust, often hypes himself up but also tears himself down in the process, emphasizing that during the limo ride after being scolded by Vaggie that “his body is flawless, everybody wants a piece”... and thinks that’s all anybody wants from him. This is Angel’s way of protecting himself; he flirts with them first before they can hurt him, it’s just hidden with his confidence.

In reality he thinks everyone looks down on him, which is why he doesn’t accept help or confine in Charlie (like when he flipped her off )he isn’t taking a pity party. Angel hides his pain with vibrato and at the same time is too prideful to ask for help... he won’t admit when he’s in trouble. I explained this a little more in detail in my previous post why he thinks Charlie and Vaggie look down on him. But with Husker he in the same boat; using his addictions (gambling & drinking) to cope with his problems. Angel will be more incline to gravitate towards Husker and telling him his problems. I say this because it’s the same reason why Angel confines in Cherri, and is close with her. And unlike Charlie who can be naive at time ( don’t get me wrong I still love her), Husker will know when he’s over stepping his boundaries, and when to helping him since he’s going through something similar.

(Charlie wanting to help Angel but doesn’t know how...)

So all of you maybe wondering, how is Husker gonna help Angel dust then if he hides his problems like that. Vivziepop made Husker a poker-player for a reason, he knows how to tell if someone’s bluffing. And it’s already been established that Angel has a terrible poker face... so Angel can’t lie to Husker. This is why he was angry at Angel’s flirting when they first meet because he already sees through his facade, (plus he’s shy about it). He knows that he doesn’t really meant and he’s hiding something. His sense and observation skills are very necessary cause he can spot when Angel’s actually in trouble.

links to official instagrams below to follow the narrative:

Angel’s instagram/Husker’s instagram/Nifty’s instagram/Sir Pentious’ instagram

This post starts the saga where Angel is waiting to be picked up at the studio. Saying “Waiting at the studio to...Be picked up for some fucking...Food.”, Val is quick comment on this saying “Forgot to pick you,lol.” and takes the chance to make him like an after thought and after Angel asks to be picked up again Val answer back “yeah but we are filming, I already ate.” just to rub it in. But that’s where Huskers intervenes and get Angel something to eat , and there’s a key detail here that it’s only Husker that comes to his aid. Now most of the main cast has an Instagram so you’d think they’d help him but they don’t... They all probably think he’s just being cute and sassy totally unaware of the Angel’s situation with Valentino, but we the audience know... (I’ll bring this point back later)

This one post is enough for Husker to be able see that Angel was really in trouble, which is why he goes out of his way to get him something to eat. And I would also like to point out after this post Husker starts following Angel’s instagram liking all his instagram posts. There’s more to this... keep in mind he starts following Angel after his posts about being tired and hungry. He’s not following him just because he has a “little crush” on Angel... he’s doing this because he wants to make sure Angel’s doing okay. He cares about Angel Dust well being and follows him to make sure doesn’t go hungry again. But during this time Angel isn’t aware of this... that Husker doing this out of worrying for Angel. I say this because right after Angel gets Husker tickets to his strip show, as “thank you” for the food. Showing that he trusts Husker but not entirely...

At this point Angel I don’t believe that he sees Husker’s actions as a gustier of genuine kindness towards him. No, he sees Husker as someone who just wants his body and this is just his way of getting towards that goal. Offering his services (or being flirty) is Angel way of not getting attach to someone (like I’ve said before): think of it as “ripping the band-aid quick off before it hurts more...” it’s so he doesn’t get hurt again like with Valentino. I believe Val also managed manipulated Angel by doing nice things for him at first, like saying nice words or buying him nice gifts as means to just use him for his body (this is a real thing pimps do). And Angel thinks Husk is no different from the other guys who used him, that what everybody wants from him... he might as well give him what he wants.

Night of the show rolls around and Husker misses it, kitty got too drunk... which we know takes place during the music video of Addict. In which we get another post about backs my statement the cast doesn’t know about Angel’s abuse. Nifty’s posts a pic, of Angel Dust looking sad after his show... saying “Saw Angel earlier, i hope he doesn’t leave the butts there 😅” Nifty wouldn’t have posted this if she knew what was going on. But Husker knows, that Angel’s depressed and feels bad about missing the show commenting “Oh fuck is that what I missed. Aw shit.” Feeling very guilty about missing Angels, usually Husk tends to hide his feelings but in this moment is very honest. Meaning he really did want to go to the show, not only that but realizes that Angel is actually upset. And he didn’t have to post this comment on Angel’s instagram but he had to he wanted to show that he was remorseful for not coming showing he is attracted to Angel Dust.

This picks up to with a post with Husker saying “Ugh... Since I missed the show, @angie_fluffy_bootz is sayin I owe him one and is making me watch his fuckin pig... I ain’t a fuckin babysitter!” in which babysits Fat Nuggets, which means he went out of his way to say “ what can I do to make it up to you”, and the conversation after it is a major turning point in the relationship for them. In the comment section Husker complains that Fat Nuggets ate all the food at the bar and says he wants to be payed back. Angel’s offer to pay him pay with a “private show”, in the only way thing he thinks Husker wants (I mean that all anybody ever wants from him). He does this with his usually flirty response, but it’s very different (this is a cut version of the convo.):

Angel: “tell ya what I’ll pay ya back with another private show”

Husker: “...I’m not doing that.

Angel: that or nothing babe. I think it’s a good deal.

Husker:“Jesus fucking Christ...”

Angel: Ugh. Fine I’ll quit it. Only if you join me for shakes.

Husker: Yeah okay I think I can do that.

This is major turning point in their relationship; this conversation is very important. Like I said before this is just his way of ripping the band-aid but there’s a reason why he’s really pushing it this time. It’s because Angel knows that he’s starting to catching feelings for Husker. And he’s not sure if Husker wants his body or if really means it. And the matter of the situation is Husker’s feeling the same way. When Husker says “Jesus fucking Christ...” it’s his way of saying “For the last time I don’t want your body, I’m not playing this game”... Here’s the thing Husker believes he’s proven enough that he doesn’t see Angel as a sex object, he’s more tried of the facade than he is annoyed. He doesn’t want Angel Dust to be a “fuck buddy” to him...

And this is a major turning point in their relationship, Angel finally understands that Husker just wants to be there for him. This is why he offers to go out with shakes with him, and of course Husker denies it and says “it’s not a date...”, but we know Husker is happy, because he’s willing accept this as being payed back for the food fat nuggets are, to him this was enough. Needless to say to say it was very cute and I loved it. Not only that but Husker becomes more active on Instagram and low-key tries to flirt back to Angel in his own grumpy cat way.

Try and tell me they aren’t flirting with each other!

A week after their date Angel Dust does a instagram post showing off his new outfit he got and Husker is quick to ask “why so many zippers”, he’s still too nervous to flirt directly Angel Dust responses with “More to pull down, respond...” Huskers clueless and responses with a “eh” still likes it anyway (the feelings are mutual now). And within the same week Husker posts his own selfie“ Wanted to wear a tie for once. 🥃”, posting one because of Angel. And this isn’t for nothing the pics clearly mirror each other (no pun intended). Just-wanted-to-wear-a-tie-for-once-my-foot ..he clearly did this to impress Angel with him asking “If he needs help with that tie...”, with Husker still being oblivious with the sexual reference but kitty’s still trying.

This to me highlights why Angel is good for Husker (and vice-versa)... During his first appearance he comments “I lost the ability to love years ago...” and drinks down his booze. Which alludes to why he drinks because he feels lonely. Angel makes him active thus eliminating his reason to drink, as we can see through Husk trying things he hasn’t done before like wearing nice clothes. Now he didn’t have to but Husker pushed himself to be better. As for Angel it gives him a genuine romantic relationship that is centered by an emotional connection and not physically. Husker prioritizes Angels feelings and well-being first.

And for those of you that are confused with Huskers grumpy tendencies. In an interview Viviziepop has said about him is that he is a tsundere. Now a tsundere, it is a character the initially appearing as cold and hostile only to hide their true feelings. This is a troupe used many times in animes (but if you are not familiar with the term or need an example of one Helga from Hey Arnold is a prime example of one). His actions disregard his attitude towards Angel... Most of his grumpy responses to Angel are to hide his feelings for him and never used to cut down or degrade Angel Dust (like Val does). I will even argue that Husker is the total opposite of Valentino; Val uses flashiness and with sweet words to hide his heinous and vile intentions. While Husker seems hotheaded and temperamental initially his actions show he’s actually a very kind and caring individual and Angel defiantly sees that...

HUSKER MADE THE WALL!

Angel is special to Husker and he feels the same way... Now and is upper there with Fat Nuggets and Cherri Bomb. And of course Husker is embarrassed, realizing his pics there too saying “what the fuck!” but we know he’s happy. At this post we can assume that Husker is just as important to him as Cherri & Fat Nuggets is to him... and vice-versa. Which is why I believe that Husker will be the one Angel reaches out to first for help within the Hazbin Hotel. And I know some of you may not be convinced, that it’s just platonic or think that Husker just sees him as a friend, but as we know Husker is not a man of words... but a man of action!

There is a key detail in this story that I’ve been keeping under-warps up until now, (and the reason why it took me so long to because once I found it piece of info; I had to change my original plans for this post).

Remember how I said that the rest of the cast doesn’t know what’s going on with Val... and that Husker’s observation skills were going to be integral in helping save Angel. Well around the same time as the PJ pic... on Sir Pentious’ instagram he posts a pic of himself trying to make his minions look like Valentino and Vox: I wasn’t even trying to find this but low and behold guess who pops up in the comment section...

Now what does this post say to you. (Husker also liked the post too)

Now repeat after me...“You don’t hear shit about people unless you go looking for it.” ... HUSKER KNOWS! My theory is that he’s been suspecting that there was something up with Val, ever since the pick-up post, so he’s been keep tabs on instagram Angel to make sure he was safe. And as time went on Angel became more precious to him and became more worried about him. And Husker not wanting to overstep his bounds by asking Angel directly, (because it’s none of his business but still super worried) so he goes around digging info on Valentino. SO then he probably knows that he abuses his workers.

(Or Angel told him whats happening... I’m leaning towards that Husker did his own digging because narratively it would be too soon and we wouldn’t have a story to tell and would have told Charlie and the rest of the crew too already... Either way..)

Val sent him this, scumbag! And it only takes Husker seconds to defend him and makes sure Angel knows he’s not fat. (most recent post)

Husker has knows, he’s actively been looking into Valentino and the shit he’s done, because he wants to protect Angel Dust! And it’s evident now, he has been defending him on Instagram as well, now being in the know, Husker defending his boy! He is not afraid of Valentino and is not putting up with his BS for putting down Angel anymore... our boy Husker is watching you rat-man.

He maybe the only one who knows that Valentino is abusing Angel (or catching on to it). Which will lead Angel coming clean about how Valentino raped him... And at this point Angel trusts Husker so much that he maybe willing to listen to him when he says “Hey you need to tell someone” or “you need help” and Husker already knows Angel well enough to know how to help him without having Angel push him away.

AND THAT is why I believe he will be the major driving force in saving Angel from the RAT-MAN (Val)... And we know Husker isn’t afraid of overlords; he’s gonna protect his boy. He is proven time and time again that he loves and cares for Angel Dust so much... and oh I’m gushing now.

AND LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE! I just want them to be happy, I want the best for our bois!

Thank you and I hope you all enjoyed the post (and please no shipping war in the comment section I don’t condone it whether you support it or not! Not fighting in the fandom)

#angelhusk #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husker #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin instagram #hazbin hotel instagram #huskerdust #valentino #Cherri Bomb #fat nuggets #hazbin hotel addict #vivziepop #alastor #addicted hazbin hotel

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bookishofalder · 3 years

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Saviours Coffee House [Prologue]

Summary: Negan hires a new manager.

Warnings: Language! We’re starting off tame, but get ready because future parts get dark. WC—+2.7k.

A/N: Even if you aren’t a The Walking Dead fan, you might like this story—it’s a coffee shop A/U, I really only take the characters from TWD!

Now

Your eyes were only on Negan as he stalked forward, his normally bright eyes dark with fury as he clenched the baseball bat in his hands. You’d never seen him so angry...you’d never seen anyone so angry. Apprehension coiled in your gut, your mind blank, a doe caught in the headlights. You knew you had to move, to stop him—but part of you almost didn’t want to.

It was the part of you that had been beaten and broken over and over screaming for it to end. Screaming for you to let it happen.

And fuck, you wanted to listen to her.

Maybe you would.

—

Way Back

Negan Dean was sat at his desk, staring at the computer monitor in front of him without really seeing it. His mind had wandered away from the shop's accounting, the task he needed to complete. He had reason to be distracted, though, as he was in desperate need of a new manager, and he had a few interviews lined up that afternoon.

He’d put off rehiring for too long, left the manager position open and simply worked himself to the bone, running the place and leading it. But it had been months.

He’d needed to keep busy, after Lucille...no, he wasn’t thinking of her today. He needed to get the accounts sorted, have some lunch, and then start the interviews.

That was today’s game plan, and he was sticking to it. The extra work had finally caught up to him, as he knew it would. He was ready to step back because he was fucking exhausted and wanted to focus on his role as the owner of the Saviours Coffee House, behind the scenes. He needed a full-time manager to run the floor, someone smart and competent and good with people.

Simon had been on his ass for a while now about it, but he’d resolutely ignored his long-time friend, too stubborn for his own good. He knew Simon was right. But it was going to be on his fucking orders that a new person joined the tea—his family—even if it meant he’d fallen asleep in his office some nights, slumped over his desk in pure exhaustion.

Negan finished his task and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back, before making his way out onto the loft that overlooked most of the shop below. He had a few couches up here, and a little kitchenette next to his office, the area acting as a staff room in many ways; customers could not come up. At the opposite end of the loft, a door led up to the next floor, which was Negan’s condo. He’d bought the entire three-storey after the recession, gutted the whole thing and, working with a crew of mostly friends who had various trade jobs, renovated it entirely.

Negan was proud of Saviours Coffee House, a dream that he hadn’t always had come to life in the walls of what used to be an old, relatively small, textile factory. Now situated in the heart of downtown, it was the perfect spot for an edgy, laid-back place to unwind, meet friends, go on dates. Hell, Negan loved looking down and seeing a customer stay the whole day as they worked, even if they only bought one coffee. As far as he was concerned, the moment you spent a dime in his place, you were a customer for the day. And that had been a hit with many of the locals and students from the nearby university. Open five-thirty in the morning till eleven-thirty in the evening, Saviours welcomed all. So long as you kept your feet off the fucking tables and minded your manners.

In his former life, Negan worked as a high-ranking guard at the nearby penitentiary. It was a minimum-security, well-funded place where non-violent criminals ended up. He’d loved his years there, but after getting stabbed for the second time (the first was when he was young enough that he’d bounced back almost instantly) he decided to retire.

He sunk all of his savings into this dream, and years later had a lot to show for it. He’d also met a lot of down on their luck men in his time as a guard, so after Saviours became successful, he started a hiring program for white-collar criminals who completed a local, not-for-profit reintegration program. He only kept two on at a time, and most moved on after saving up enough.

Currently at the bar was Dwight, who’d been with Negan the longest now, having started just over a year before after getting out from serving time for drug possession. If Negan was proud of anything, it was Dwight. He’d seen the man evolve from a quiet asshole who barely grunted when customers paid, to a friendly bartender who mixed both amazing lattes and delicious cocktails, even if he grumbled about it. He was a fixture here now as much as Negan—and probably more well-liked, but Negan didn’t care about being liked. As long as people were happy, he was just fine.

It was the post-lunch lull now, so Dwight was wiping up the counters and switching the signs around from daytime menus to evening. Maggie, who had been working at Saviours for about two years, was wiping down the tables while Fleetwood Mac played over the expensive Bluetooth stereo system. He’d asked Maggie if she wanted the job, but she’d only laughed before telling him plainly that she had no desire to work full time or see him that much. He’d figured as much, seeing as she was in university, but he had wanted her to know it was hers if she did want it—she’d earned it.

Dwight was happy where he was, and didn’t want to upset the balance in life he’d worked so hard for, which Negan respected. His newest employee, also a convict hire, wasn’t up to scruff to become the manager, as much as he liked Paul, or ‘Jesus’, as everyone called him. He was a nice kid, worked hard, but seemed content working three part-time jobs. That had left Rosita and Tara, both part-time and students, and then Carol, part-time and not interested as she worked as a volunteer at the Children’s Hospital and didn’t want to give that up.

Which left him where he was now, stomping up the steps to his place to have a quick lunch before back-to-back interviews of promising contenders for a job he wished like hell he didn’t need to fill.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Negan slammed his hands onto the marble counter in frustration as Dwight watched him. He smirked as he tidied up the barista station.

“That bad, boss?” Dwight was shit at keeping the amusement off of his face. Negan scoffed, glancing behind him to ensure no customers were listening, but it was busy enough now with the after-class and work rush that the cacophony of voices and music allowed him to speak privately despite the location.

Negan held up one hand, holding his thumb and index finger a sliver apart. “I’ve got this much fucking patience left. Only one candidate wasn’t a god damned catfish and I didn’t like him,” He sighed, nodding gratefully when Dwight pointed to the espresso machine, knowing Negan needed his usual five o'clock pick-me-up. “I’ve got one last one; Daryl's friend. If she doesn’t fit, I’m going to have to beg Maggie—and you know she’ll love that too much to say yes.”

With a laugh, Dwight nodded in agreement, expertly moving about making Negan’s latte. “Carol seemed pretty sure you’d like her, said Daryl thinks of her like a little sister and when he heard you were looking for someone he was adamant she’d be perfect.”

Negan sighed, “Yeah, and I like Daryl so if this doesn’t work out and I have to start hating him I’m going to be real pissed off. Thanks, D.” He added when Dwight passed over the piping hot drink, still grinning at Negan’s displeasure.

Dwight dipped his head forward, eyes behind Negan, “I think that must be her, don’t recognize her and she’s dressed too nice for this place.” With that, he turned away and started loading dishes into one of the dishwashers. Negan turned, eyes scanning for the potential candidate, and he didn’t have to look far.

Because there you were, right out of a fucking dream.

Dwight had been right, you were dressed far too nicely for Saviours, but perfect for an interview (which instantly gave you points over a few of the previous interviewees). You were weaving by a few men who were standing at a high table and hadn’t yet noticed Negan, which allowed him to survey you.

The pretty green dress paired with a smart leather jacket and shiny kitten heels gave off an air of sophistication, accentuated your curves beautifully, and rendered his mind to mush for a brief moment. You wore your hair down, and it fell in elegant waves around your shoulders. Fuck, though, if you weren’t the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

He thought Carol had mentioned you were in your mid-twenties, but you walked with more confidence about you than one usually saw in those formative years. Already impressed, Negan pushed himself away from the counter, stepped forward and smiled.

You looked around, his movement catching your eye, and returned the smile warmly as you approached. No doubt, you’d looked up their social media, seen pictures of Negan. Any smart candidate would do that, and Negan could already tell you were a clever girl. He called your name over the music, and you nodded, extending your hand

Negan took it into his and shook, enjoying how small your hand was compared to his. You were curvy and petite in the best ways, so much shorter than him but fully voluptuous, and you dressed like you knew you looked damn good, fuck whatever society said about beauty standards. “Mr. Dean, it’s great to meet you, sir.”

Negan grinned down at you, then pointed toward the staircase to your left, “Come on up, it’s quieter in the office.” And he led the way.

When he glanced back to make sure you were following, Negan saw you looking toward Dwight, giving him a friendly wave. He gave you a nod, a near smile, a pretty decent result from the house grump. He needed a manager who could get along with everyone, so right there was another point in your favour.

Closing the door brought the loudness of Saviours down to mere background noise, the evening crowds were always loud as shit. Negan loved it, the differences between the start and end of days, the energy. He gestured toward two armchairs he had, hating the process of sitting behind a desk to interview like he was some hot shot lawyer. He preferred the less intimidating, friendly way. It was just a coffee shop, after all.

A damn good one, though.

When you settled, Negan took his seat across from you, suddenly feeling a little distracted under the gaze of your bright eyes. “Well I’ll get straight to it; you come highly recommended by both Carol and Daryl. I won’t lie, I’m a pain in the ass to work for and I’m looking for someone who can handle hard work, long hours and most importantly, get along with my people. You really think that’s you?”

You were sitting with your back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands in your lap. You looked entirely at ease, meeting Negan’s eyes straight on as he spoke. When he finished, you leaned forward almost imperceptibly, your response instant.

“I’m exactly what you’re looking for, sir. I love people and get along with everyone. Do you think I’m best friends with Daryl and don’t know how to deal with a pain in the ass?” At this, Negan smirked, “I’m hardworking, and I have no other major commitments, so full time and long hours will suit me just fine.” You had a lovely voice, which was probably why you’d stayed working at the sales call centre for years before now.

In your resume, Negan had noted the year gap in wor—you had stopped working for the call centre just over a year ago, though it was noted you were a freelance writer and kept income that way. But he found it curious that you’d been working since you were a teenager and yet hadn't worked a solid job in a year. And now that he’d met you, he could see you were the hardworking type. Carol hadn’t known why you’d been away from a job for so long, stating that Daryl knew but didn’t tell her. He had said it didn’t matter, and that was good enough for Negan.

“Well, I’ll admit, on paper you’re ideal, which is why I scheduled you last today. I wanted to have time to read you.”

“And,” You interjected, a small smirk on your lips, “You know that keeping someone waiting the whole day for an interview will shred their nerves and leave them more susceptible to letting their true colours out.”

Negan stared, surprised, “Can’t get much past you, eh?”

You shrugged, “It’s a good tactic. But I assure you, I’m just as competent in the evening as the morning, and I think if you give me a chance to prove myself, you’ll be very happy with hiring me, Mr. Dean. I want to work here, you have an amazing place. It’s a part of this community, and the reintegration program is something I respect greatly, I have no issues working with men hired from there.” You paused, adjusting yourself slightly, palms falling open on your legs, “And, I’ll be frank, I want a job that has long days, that’ll keep me busy and tire me out and let me build relationships with customers. When I found out you were hiring, I jumped on the chance for Daryl to have Carol put in a good word for me. It just seems...right, to work here.”

“What about your writing, do you still do that?” Negan watched your face closely, and it didn’t waver, instead, your smile widened.

“I can write anywhere, anytime. And I make my own schedule with whatever commissions I take on, so it’ll be easy to write on my days off, or breaks if I don’t have a day off,” You pointed at Negan’s phone, which he’d set on the wide arm of his chair, “I can also help with writing any social media or website content, I know Carol mentioned you wanted to expand that presence, and I’m comfortable with that sort of work.”

Negan considered you, letting a comfortable silence fall as he thought over your words. You did seem eager, excited, and the fact that you’d researched what he was looking for impressed him further. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your resume once more, though he couldn’t think of anything else to ask. If he was honest with himself, he was ready to hire you after the first two minutes.

“I like you,” He said, thrumming his hands on his knees, “When can you start?”

“In the morning? Or I can go home, have my dinner and come back dressed more appropriately for work, if you need me straight away, sir.”

Negan shook his head, both as a response and in an attempt to toss away the thoughts that stirred up in the back of his mind every time you called him ‘sir’. “Tomorrow morning is perfect. And since you work for me now, you can call me Negan, asshole, or shithead, no more ‘Mr. Dean’ or fucking, ‘sir’, okay?”

When you smiled at Negan, it was the most dazzling he’d seen yet, bright white teeth and sweet dimples making his heart stutter. Damn, you really affected him. He needed to get a gri—you were half his age, for Christ's sake.

“Thank you, Negan,” You stood, holding your hand out and grasping his when he offered, your head tilting back to look at him as he stood before you. “Really, I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“Kid, I don’t doubt it.” He replied softly, and for a moment you simply looked at one another. Negan wasn't sure if you felt it, but he did; it was a spark. Fleeting, but strong enough that he knew life was about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @ladydmalfoy 🤍

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scandeniall · 4 years

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no face no case

pairing suna x reader

summary/warnings: yeah suna is a PRO at the no face no case type shit. 18+ talks about sex, the devils lettuce (for like 2 seconds and uses the word “maybe” this was also written before that weird hyperfixation with him being a stoner which i have thoughts of annoyance towards but w/e), hes annoying

note: this was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being over 1k words. brevity is not my strong suit.

update: i did bf texts based off this

Suna is a pro at no face no case. Like this man will hide your relationship for months (if you’re ok bc he’s not a dick). Part of it is because he’d had shitty experiences in relationships before and the other part is just bc as a pro player he didn’t need ppl in his private life. It’d be somewhere between 8-10 months until your face is ever posted even on snap and even then the pic is mad blurry. But the caption would be something like “kinda hot or whatever” or “Alexa play nasty by DaBaby to where you literally have to force him to change the caption bc SIR”. He’d definitely go post that same pic with that caption on finsta and add like 🥵💦to it.

Anyways, he’s really good at the whole deal. Like during the time before you two were a couple and kinda just hanging and dating around casually he’d talk about other people he found hot with his bros and maybe go on the occasional failed date (it failed bc he didn’t even put in the effort to get to know the person. Just “uh uh” “yeah that’s cool or whatever” and he’s super dry with it)

Anyways once you’re actually a couple whenever someone would show him a picture of someone he thought was hot he’d just shrug like no comment. After practices they guys would be like “yo you wanna go get drinks or hop on the game,” and he’d just say he was busy. Anyways that same night on his priv story he’d post some black and white filtered video of him kissing up and down your neck. And it was obvious that this mystery person was straddling him too.

Washio swipes up like: 🤨

Komori: did you mean to post that

He just leaves it on read and goes back to enjoying his night. After it was obvious to everyone on his priv/finsta that he was indeed in a relationship his story almost always has a flick of his hand on your ass. No caption, just his hand gripping through your jeans/sweats/ his boxers you name it.

Suna might smoke on occasion. Only during the off season though bc he is not dumb now. (sometimes osamu comes through but you’re never around). Anyways he’s the type to have some led strip lights in his room lining the ceilings and whether you smoked or not he’d invite you over. The room is all hazy and it’s like damn bitch are you tryna hot box. Anyways during those nights he’s so high and is slightly less intentional with keeping your identity hidden. Thankfully the lights and smoked out room does a pretty good job for him. Bc he kinda just sets up his phone has you on his lap and just likes make out real nice and slow. (he accidentally posts a part of it while high. He thinks it’s on video but he recorded on Snapchat. Be thankful it snap only records so much before cutting off)

Other times y’all would just be lounging on the couch passing a joint back and forth and he’d be like “put your legs on my lap so I cant take a pic” after he gets it he pushes your legs off and puts his on you instead lol.

He likes just vibing in the house to music with him playing his game and you just doing you. He’s not paying any type of attention to you but whenever you get up to go get some food or to pee he’d post some shit like “my date really left me? Can’t trust anyone can you.” Will record certain parts in songs (it be the dumbest parts too) and be like “I dedicate this to the 1 who left me to eat”

He’s also SO annoying that his lock screen is a pic of you both. One you had taken with self timer. You’re sitting in his lap smiling and he’s kinda just looking at you like “wow I rly like you”. But anyways back to him being annoying— he has emojis covering both of your faces. The clown emoji to be exact. To go along with that sometimes he’d post more couple-y picks on his priv but again there’s an emoji. Once he even used the Snapchat paint feat to draw you on an outfit over the one he had and captioned “mine knows how to dress 🥵”

Whenever he did want to maybe post some cute pic without all the jokes it’d be something like you’re holding hands or if he fell asleep in your lap he’d post the pic of him in your lap and your hand is visible in his hair

Yeah he also never even mentions your name around his friends. It’s either some nickname like “loser” or he’s just like my s/o. His contact name for you is “im dating?” (Even once your identity isn’t a secret he doesn’t change it to your name it just kinda changes to “I’m engaged?” To “im married?”)

Ok so even once he posts that blurry pic on his public verified account all those months ago he doesn’t really do much more than that. Like folks want an HD pic of you and him? Yeah good luck. He’d occasionally post a ig story of y’all meal together if it was looking extra tasty but that’s about it. People would kinda forget he’s even in the relationship until like your anniversary and he STILL doesn’t feed into the mystery. He got you a gold chain with a charms of his initials. He’d post another dumb black and white filtered pic with his hand resting on the crook of your neck and his thumb near the letters with some caption like “365? That’s wild” at some point after that he’d actually post a real pic with you two bc while it was fun and cool for a while sometimes he does want to actually be a good bf and share some of the dumb shit you two do together (like the time he made a PowerPoint of all the reasons you should buy him a ps5. He recorded all your bored and unamused reactions too. “Because I’m hot and dick game kinda decent,” is not enough of a reason to drop $500+ on you sir esp because hes the type to sometimes just stop mid stroke like “whew yeah ima need you to top now” like the audacity)

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #suna imagines #hq imagines #hq imagine

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

how lucky am I

gif by @toesure

summary: jj and charlie return home to the outer banks after their engagement. jj shows charlie around where he grew up - and sees his dad again after six years.

a/n: this is set in a post-grad universe (read this for background)! and thank you always to my friends @oopmyheartwent-obx and @sunnypogue for reading it over for me beforehand!!

warnings: cursing, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse.

wordcount: 4.7k

Charlie and JJ took an Uber from the airport as they flew home for the first time since they were engaged, about six months since when they had come home for Christmas. They entered her parents’ house, leaving their suitcases at the door. Charlie took JJ’s cap from him first, fluffing up his hair and giving him a quick kiss before bringing him into the kitchen. Both her parents were busy in the kitchen with their backs to them, music drifting over the radio. “Hey guys!” Charlie greeted cheerfully.

Her mom reacted first, whipping around at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “JJ! Charlie!” She hugged JJ first, catching him off guard, but he smiled and hugged her back after a beat. “Hi, Mrs. Walker. Whatever you’re making smells incredible.” Charlie had to resist rolling her eyes as her mom pulled back with her hand to her heart. “I told you, JJ, call me Suzie. We’re family now!” JJ nodded, grinning. “Yes ma’am.”

JJ then extended his arm toward her dad for a handshake, like usual between the two - but her dad pulled him in for a hug, clapping him on the back. “Good to see you, son. Your flight go okay?” JJ beamed at the approval, nodding. “Yes, sir - uh, Mr. Walker.” He corrected himself. Charlie’s dad shook his head and dropped JJ’s hand. “Mike is fine, JJ. You hungry?” He pulled Charlie into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Dad, can we put our bags up in my room first?” Mike pulled back, giving her a look. “JJ’s bag goes in the guest room.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Dad, we’re literally engaged -”

Her dad shook his head. “Guest room. Go put them away.” She sighed but nodded, pulling JJ upstairs. They could hear her mom berating her dad for not being nice enough as they walked upstairs and Charlie laughed. “The second they go to bed, you’re coming into my room.” JJ shook his head, but stayed quiet as he lugged their suitcases upstairs and into her room. “You good, J?” She asked, kissing his cheek. JJ nodded, a small smile on his face. “He called me son. Your dad.” Charlie softened, not knowing how much that would mean to him. “You’ve been a part of the family for a while now, baby. Now it’s just official.”

The next morning, the two took advantage of being back in the Outer Banks, visiting all their favorite spots from growing up. They woke up early to surf for a couple hours with the sunrise, then got breakfast with John B and Sarah afterward. Charlie and JJ then drove by the coast for a while, aimlessly. “Can we go by one more place?” JJ asked after a while. “Of course, what are you thinking?” JJ gave her a small, hopeful smile. “You’ll see.”

He drummed his fingers on the wheel as they drove closer to the Cut, toward his old house. “We don’t have to go here if you don’t want to, JJ -” Charlie started, but JJ shook his head, cutting her off. “No, no, I want to check it out.” He gave her an uneasy smile, forcing it. Charlie nodded, squeezing his arm gently but stayed quiet. She had heard most of the stories before and had pretty much made up her mind about JJ’s dad - no in-person meeting could change that.

He pulled up onto the gravel, taking a breath before turning the key and getting out. Charlie started toward the house, but JJ quickly grabbed her hand, pulling her back. “Can - can you just wait out here first, just for a second?” She nodded, biting her lip out of worry. “Of course. I’ll be right here.” JJ seemed to relax slightly and released her hand, then flipped his cap backward before heading inside.

“Dad?” He called out, tense. He walked through the house tentatively, listening, then relaxed more once he realized his dad wasn’t home. He surveyed the mess and shoved some trash (and a small white bag) into a drawer before heading back outside. “Charlie, c’mere.”

Charlie was hesitant, taking his hand again once she reached the porch. “He’s not here, but, uh, you can see my room, at least.” JJ offered. He was clearly embarrassed by the house and Charlie tried to conceal her surprise at the state of disarray, holding his hand a little tighter. JJ led her to his room and pushed open the door - then smiled.

His room had been untouched since he had moved out and into the Chateau with John B on his 18th birthday. It looked exactly like how an 18-year-old boy’s room would look - rumpled sheets, a few lewd posters on the walls, a spare history textbook used to prop up the uneven leg of the desk. Charlie rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t look too different from your freshman year dorm, I’d imagine.” JJ laughed, splaying his hand over one of the posters. “Pretty much.”

She took a tentative seat on the bed. “It’s not as bad as you were describing it to me. It’s...homey.” JJ scoffed, looking around. “No, homey is how I feel at your place. This is just fucking sad.” Charlie frowned, reaching out for him, and JJ waved her off. “I’m fine, just. Feels weird being back.”

Suddenly, there was a bang out front and the sound of splintering wood, like the door was just kicked in. Charlie jumped up from the bed, clinging to JJ. “What the -” JJ clapped his hand over her mouth and put a finger to his lips, shushing her.

A gruff voice rang out. “I have a gun! Better get the fuck out!”

Upon hearing the voice, JJ relaxed a bit and moved to walk out. Charlie gripped JJ’s bicep tighter, eyes wide and scared. “What the fuck are you doing!” She hissed, yanking him back. JJ shook her off, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “It’s fine, Charlie, it’s just my dad. And he’s a fuckin’ liar.” They could hear footsteps coming closer and Charlie’s heart rate quickened, tears welling in her eyes. “It might not be - JJ, please, we should hide.” She begged, stepping away from the door.

JJ walked out of his room, hands up. “Just me, Dad!” He called out. Once Luke Maybank saw him, he stopped dead in his tracks - no gun in hand, just as JJ expected. “Oh. JJ? Why the fuck are you here?” JJ let out a sad, short laugh. “Good to see you too, Dad.” Charlie peered out from around the corner, tentative, and Luke immediately spotted her, pointing. “You’re 25 and you’re still sneaking girls into the house?”

At JJ’s beckon forward, Charlie stepped out, standing slightly behind JJ. “He’s 24, actually,” she corrected before she could stop herself. “She’s got a smart mouth like you.” Luke pointed out, smirking. JJ grit his teeth. “Dad, this is Charlie. My girlfriend I told you about - well, actually, my fiancee.” He was still getting used to saying the word. Charlie took JJ’s hand, then took a small step forward. “Hi.”

Luke eyed the ring on her finger right away, skeptical. “Where’d you get the money for that rock?”

“It’s my grandmother’s.” Charlie responded before JJ could even open his mouth.

“Hm.” Luke hummed, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. Charlie stayed tense but JJ did the same, pulling out a chair for Charlie first. She hesitated, but he tugged on his hand gently to show her it was okay. “Where did you meet again?” Luke asked, feigning interest - though his eyes kept flicking back to check out Charlie’s ring. He kicked back in his chair, swinging his feet up onto the table. JJ ran his hand through his hair. “Well...in college. We’ve been dating since senior year, remember?”

“But I grew up here, we knew each other from high school before that.” Charlie added. Luke raised his eyebrows. “Oh? What’s your last name?” JJ squeezed her knee gently underneath the table. “It’s Walker, Dad.” Luke nodded in recognition, then laughed. “That touristy ice cream shop? Marrying into money, then.” He directed his gaze to Charlie, cracking a smile. “How’d he trick you into bothering with him?”

Charlie frowned, keeping her tone even. “He didn’t trick me into anything.”

Luke looked smug. “I’ve known him longer than you, kid, I know how he works.”

“You should be proud of JJ. He’s intelligent, and kind, and loyal as hell.” She paused, lifting her chin a little. “No thanks to you.” JJ set his jaw and nudged her knee under the table, a private sign to knock it off.

Luke leaned forward, both hands on the table. “Better watch your pretty little mouth in my house, girl.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” JJ quickly admonished, tensing.

“Am I invited?” Luke asked, a small smirk on his lips. JJ paused, trying to process. “To...to the wedding?” He glanced at Charlie, a mix of emotions displayed on his face. Charlie kept her hard resolve. “We only got engaged two weeks ago, we haven’t worked on a guest list.” She stood, trying to make it clear the conversation was over, and JJ followed suit reluctantly.

“You’re making a mistake sticking yourself with this lazy piece of shit.” Luke told her, gesturing toward JJ.

Charlie took a quick step toward Luke, ready to retort, and JJ wrapped his arms around her waist just as quickly, pulling her back toward his chest. “Don’t.” He murmured in her ear. She stayed tense in his arms.

Luke just laughed. “She’s feisty, huh?”

JJ kept his arms around Charlie, protective. “She’s loyal.”

Luke nodded, folding his hands behind his head. “How long are you around? Back home?” JJ fidgeted with the bill of his cap. “Just ‘til Monday. I gotta get back for work.” Luke made a small noise of acknowledgment and stood, pulling a beer from the fridge. “Well. You ought to come ‘round again before you leave, sounds like we need to catch up.” JJ managed a small smile, confused, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, if we have time.”

Charlie stepped out of his arms toward the door. “Well, uh, we have to go, but. I’ll see you around.” Luke popped the bottle cap off the beer and took a swig. “No one’s blocking you. Door’s open, kid.”

The tips of JJ’s ears turned red and he nodded, silently following Charlie through the door and out to the car. “JJ, I -” Charlie started, and he shook his head. “Let’s just go.” The two of them got in the car and he gripped the wheel hard as he drove away, jaw clenched. He flicked through the radio until he found a classic rock station and cranked the volume, foot pressing harder on the gas.

“I’m just gonna drive.” He told Charlie, eyes set firmly on the long road. She nodded, quiet, but was analyzing his every move, noticing the way his shoulders were tensed up to his ears and his knuckles were white against the steering wheel.

A few minutes later, it was like JJ had a lead foot against the pedal and the car climbed five, ten, fifteen miles over the speed limit. He stared out at the road but was unfocused, radio static in his ears. “J.” Charlie tried again, for the fourth time. She reached out, shaking his arm. “JJ!” He swerved slightly and glanced over at her, blinking, then finally registered her worried expression and slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road.

Charlie reached over and pushed the car into park as his foot stayed on the brake, then unbuckled and quickly got out. She opened the driver’s side door and reached over, unbuckling JJ’s seatbelt. “Out. I’ll drive.” He nodded numbly and stood, turning into her touch. Charlie looked worried and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, but nothing more.

“Get in and we’ll go home, hon.” He nodded again and did so, wordless. She started the car again, reaching to turn down the radio, but JJ reached for her hand, stopping her. She twisted her wrist to intertwine her fingers with his, resting their hands on the center console and holding his hand tight.

They stayed quiet as she drove toward her house - but after a glance toward JJ and seeing how hard he was blinking, Charlie turned away from the neighborhood and toward the beach. “You missed the turn.” JJ mumbled, holding tight to her hand. She nodded. “I know. I want to see the beach.” JJ sighed as she pulled toward a secluded lookout spot. “Charlie, I’m fine.”

Charlie shrugged, putting the car in park and turning the key. “I know. Come on, let’s go sit.” She got out and tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the beach and sitting down with him. After a beat, she scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. JJ leaned down into her, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine.” He repeated, shakily. He swiped the back of his hand across his cheek roughly, not allowing any tears to fall. She tightened her grip on him, letting him rest his head on her chest.

“It’s okay if you’re not, J.” She whispered, stroking his head. He mumbled something into her t-shirt, still for a moment, then slid his arms around her waist, clinging tight. Charlie frowned and pressed a kiss to his head. “Hm, hon?”

JJ lifted his head slightly. “You scared me.”

Charlie let out a short laugh, incredulous. “I scared you? He threatened a gun on you!”

JJ sat up a little but kept an arm around her waist, looking serious. “You can’t talk to him like that, Charlie. He’s unpredictable. He - he could have hurt you.”

Charlie frowned. “I can handle myself.”

JJ furrowed his brow, frustrated. “No, Charlie, I’m serious. You can’t talk to him like that - if he did something to you, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“His words aren’t gonna hurt me.” She replied, stubborn. “If you go back, I’m going with you.” JJ sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get anything through to her in the moment. “Yeah. We’ll see.” Charlie set her jaw, lifting it toward him. “I’m not letting you go back alone, JJ. I don’t trust him.”

JJ gripped her chin gently, kissing her softly. “You’re too fucking stubborn.” She pulled out of his touch, frowning. “I just want you to be safe.” JJ nodded. “I know.” He glanced down at her phone as it chimed. “We gotta get back for your family thing soon, sweetheart.”

Still annoyed, Charlie stood, crossing her arms. “I’m mad at you, you know.” JJ held back a small laugh as he stood, nodding seriously. “I know. Think you can fake being in love for the engagement party?” He teased. Charlie rolled her eyes and tossed him the keys. “I still love you. I’m just mad.” JJ smiled and got in the car with her, kissing her cheek. “Good. Love you too, Walker.”

After the majority of her family left, Charlie dragged JJ upstairs by the hand to her room. She instantly flopped back onto the bed, kicking off her heels. “We survived!” She teased, tugged on his hand to pull him down next to her. “Do you think they liked me?” JJ asked, taking a tentative seat on the edge of the bed next to her.

At that moment her dad Mike walked past, pushing the door open. “They’ll like you better if you keep the door open, son.” Charlie rolled her eyes, turning her head to glance at him. “Dad. Might I remind you we’re 24? And engaged?” Mike just laughed. “And you’re under my roof, and JJ’s staying in the guest room tonight. Again.” JJ nodded quickly, running his hand through his hair. “Yes, sir.” Mike grinned, walking away. “Night, you two!” He called over his shoulder.

“Good night!” Charlie called back, then sat up to shut the door. JJ pushed her back down, grinning. “Did you not hear his rules?” Charlie smirked, lowering her voice. “I didn’t know you were into the idea of getting caught.” JJ laughed and stood, hands raised in surrender. “That’s it, I’m going to the guest room.”

“No, stay!” Charlie reached out, hooking her finger in his belt loop, and tugged. “You’re trouble, Walker.” He teased, but fell forward onto her anyway. She grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. “Yeah, yeah, but you love trouble. Anyway, I think - no, I know that they loved you. They’ve all met you before, too, so it’s not like you had to make a grand first impression.”

He shifted to be on his side, facing her, and propped his head up on his elbow. “Yeah, but this was an extra big deal. First impression as your fiance.” Charlie nodded and kissed him, sound. “You did just fine, hon. I think my grandma would marry you herself if she was younger.” He laughed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “She was not happy about the last name deal. Mrs. Maybank.” He teased.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “It’s a totally antiquated belief, and I’m working -”

“Incredibly hard for your degrees, including your PhD, I know, I know.” JJ cut her off, finishing the speech he had heard quite a few times. “Just teasing you, Char.” She smiled, pleased. “Good.” JJ paused, like he was going to say something, then just sighed. Charlie frowned, picking up on it right away. “What’s up?”

He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up. “Um. I think I want to go see my dad again before we leave.”

“JJ…” Charlie sighed. “Why?”

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Dunno. I’ve barely talked to him in six years.”

Charlie bit her lip. “There’s a reason for that, J, he’s an asshole.”

JJ started, then paused. “Well - I mean, yeah, but did you hear him when we left? He wants to come to the wedding? Maybe he’s trying to be better.”

Charlie frowned. “He’s had six years to try. I don’t know about this.” JJ set his jaw, frustrated. “Well I’m not asking, I’m telling you out of courtesy. And you’re not coming.” She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not going alone.”

He sat up, crossing his arms. “Yes I am.”

She did the same. “No, you’re not. I’ll drive you and sit in the car.”

He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, standing. “Fine.”

“Fine. Where are you going?” She questioned.

“I’m going to the guest room.” JJ replied, raising his eyebrows back at her. She rolled her eyes. “J, you don’t have to -” He waved it off, dismissing her. “It’s not because of this, it’s out of respect for your dad.”

Charlie softened, unable to argue with that. “Oh. Okay. Well...goodnight.” JJ offered a small smile and bent down, giving her a short kiss. “Goodnight. Love you, Charlie.” She smiled back, giving in. “Love you too, J.” He gave her a teasing salute as he walked out of the room.

The next day, they went back to JJ’s house around 6pm. Charlie drove, turning up the radio and humming along softly to their favorite songs, trying to ease JJ’s tension. As they pulled up on the drive, Charlie frowned seeing some broken glass bottles scattered around the yard. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in?” JJ nodded firmly. “Stay here. Please. He won’t do anything.” Charlie bit her lip, nodding back. “Don’t be too long.” He gave a small, tense smile and a short kiss. “I’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

With that he got out, adjusting his hat as he walked up to the porch. The scene was all too familiar - empty beer cans scattered across the table, a medicine bottle with some pills strewn out on the glass. JJ nudged open the door and sighed when he saw Luke passed out on the couch, hand curled around an empty glass bottle that was cradled to his chest.

“God damnit, Dad.” He said aloud, kicking one of the beer cans across the floor. Luke stirred, stretching as he woke up. JJ cursed under his breath, not sure if he wanted him to wake or not. Luke cracked one eye open, shooting at glare at his son. “The fuck are you back here for?”

JJ flipped his hat backward, running his hand through his hair as he went. “You asked me to come back.” Luke scoffed. “Don’t know why I would have done that.” He leaned over, popping a cap off another beer and took a swig. “Your girl didn’t want to come back?” JJ shook his head, willing himself to not glance at her car outside. “I didn’t want her to have to see this piece of shit place again.” Luke sat up, gesturing at him with the beer bottle. “You should be grateful for this piece of shit, I raised you in it.”

JJ crossed his arms, jaw set. “Saying you raised me is an overstatement.”

“You gonna use some of that Walker family money to pay me back, then?” Luke stared him down from the couch. JJ scoffed. “Stolen bread and peanut butter from the store didn’t cost you shit, Dad.”

Luke stood, swaying a little, and met him at eye level as he took another long drink. “You think the fucking utilities were free, boy? The running water? The A/C?” JJ stood his ground, his fists curling. “We had that maybe half the year, and a fucking box fan in the middle of the summer doesn’t do shit.”

Luke shook his head. “Still cost money. You’re lucky I even gave you a place to stay.” He knocked back the rest of the beer and twirled the bottle in his hand. “Not sure how you even convinced that girl to stick around for long.” He grinned. “Just watch, she’ll leave too. They always do.” JJ swallowed, white-knuckled, but kept his fists by his side. “Fuck off, Dad, she loves me.”

The corner of Luke’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Just like your mother loved you and then left in the middle of the night, first chance she got?”

JJ took a deep breath to steady himself. If he was younger, his fist would have slammed into his dad’s cheek three insults ago - but he reminded himself he was better than that, too old to resort to injury. “She left because of you. We both know that.”

Luke shook his head. “We got the same blood, boy. What runs in me runs in you.”

“I’ll be a better husband and father than you ever were.” JJ shot back, chest puffed up and shoulders tall.

Luke smirked. “That’s what I told my dad too, kid. Now look. Full fuckin’ circle.”

JJ huffed in frustration, flipping his cap forward again and tugging down hard on the bill. “Fuck you.”

Charlie had been sitting in the car long enough, anxious, and got out of the car, against her better judgment. Quietly, she walked up to the house, frowning as she heard unrecognizable yelling - from Luke or JJ, she wasn’t sure. Inside, JJ and Luke kept going, flinging insults at each other, the tension rising as they got in each other’s face. Charlie pushed open the screen door, staying quiet - but the hinges creaked at just the wrong moment.

Luke hurled the glass bottle at the wall just behind Charlie’s head, making it shatter everywhere. She screamed, cowering, and JJ fisted the front of Luke’s shirt in his hand instantly. “What the fuck, Dad, she did nothing!” He roared, shoving him backward hard enough to land him on the floor.

He ran over to Charlie, who had a small trickle of blood trailing down her cheek from a shard of broken glass. “Fuck, Charlie, are you okay?” She nodded quickly in response, eyes wide, a little stunned. JJ scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the house hurriedly, not taking a second look back. He set her in the passenger seat, then looked around worriedly. “Keys, Charlie, I need the keys.” She bit down on her lip, hard, gesturing toward the porch. “Keys, Charlie.” He repeated, looking her over with concern.

“Dropped them. On the porch.” She got out, gingerly touching her fingers to her cheek. JJ cursed under his breath, nodding, and shut the door quickly. He jogged back up to the porch, glancing inside for a split second to see his dad still lying there on the floor. He hesitated just long enough to see his dad stir, no blood in sight, and grabbed the keys and ran back to the car.

His hands were shaking as he jammed the keys in the ignition, starting it up and driving away quickly. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. God - did he hurt you? Did it hit you?” He asked rapidly, glancing over at her. Charlie shook her head, pressing the heel of her hand to her cheek. “No. Um, just a small nick.” She paused before speaking again, her voice shaky. “I’m sorry, J.”

“What?! No, no, why are you sorry?” He reached over and took her free hand, pressing the back to his lips.

“You said not to come in, and I got scared, I thought he was hurting you.” She frowned, her voice small. “I can’t believe he talked to you like that.”

JJ sighed, softly. “That was hardly anything, honestly.” He bit the inside of his cheek as he drove back to her parent’s house, trying to focus more on her than the thoughts running through his head. Charlie blinked hard, trying not to let any tears fall. “That was harsh, J.” He gave her a sad smile. “Been through worse, sweetheart.” He pulled into her driveway, thankful her parents were out for the night.

They made it up the stairs and into her room, quiet, both not wanting to be the first to speak. “You’re sure the bottle didn’t hit your head?” JJ asked as he sat next to her on the bed, gently running his thumb over the small nick across her cheek. Charlie had her knees drawn up to her chest, closed off. “I’m sure.” He nodded, but kept a worried frown.

“I’m proud of you, J.” She murmured, taking his hand. He raised his eyebrows, confused. “For what?” She gave him a small smile, for the first time since leaving the house. “You stood up for yourself.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the comforter. “Yeah, well. Thanks.”

Charlie frowned and moved closer, pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to see him again, JJ.”

“I just -” JJ’s face crumpled and his voice cracked. “I don’t know why he’s not proud of me.” Charlie held him tighter. “JJ…” He pulled her into his lap to hold her closer, then buried his face against her shoulder. “I graduated high school, and college, and I got out of the Outer Banks on my own, I…” he faltered, letting out a single sob. “I don’t know what else he wants from me, Charlie. Am I not good enough?”

“Oh, hon.” Charlie murmured. She nudged his chin up so he could meet her gaze. “You’re more than good enough, J. You’ve done all those things, but more importantly, you’re the best damn person I could ask for.” JJ pressed his forehead to hers, listening. “But I’m a mess.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re responsible with your job, and hard-working and creative. You notice all the little things and you’re kind to just about everyone you meet.” He ducked his head away in embarrassment, not used to the praise. “Charlie.”

She continued, giving him a smile. “I can’t wait to be married to you and show you off even more, JJ. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He lifted his head and kissed her, hard. “I love you.”

“And how lucky am I to experience your love?” Charlie told him, nudging her nose against his. She caught his lips in a gentle kiss, threading her fingers through his hair. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry.” JJ told her with a small laugh, tears welling up in his eyes again. Charlie kissed him again. “Love you always, J, don’t forget it.” He nodded, kissing her back. “Love you always.”

#jj maybank #jj x charlie #mine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank obx

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dinokolombo · 3 years

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Pouli Island

Welcome to my first story that I’ll be posting on this blog. It’s pretty basic, vacation goes downhill into horror town. I’m pretty new to this whole writing/social media thing so if anybody has advice it’ll be greatly appreciated!

Rating: T (sexual themes, language, suspense, horror imagery)

Length: 9081 (~45 min at 200 WPM)

It was around noon when we had reached the island. The warm summer breeze blew over crystalline waters. We were on a small boat, part of a rental service that brings people who can’t afford an entire cruise vacation to the island. It was still fairly expensive, though. Tracy sat next to me in the cabin of the ship when Vanya poked her head in through the doorway.

“Hey, lovebirds. We’re almost at the island. Get your shit ready.”

Once Vanya left, Tracy grabbed my hand tightly. “I’m so excited! Thank you so much for this trip, Tommy. It means a lot to me.”

I smiled at her. “I just wanted to give you a break from work, that’s all. You deserve it with everything you’ve done for me.”

She wrapped her arms around me. After a short hug we got up and left the cabin. It had been almost four years since I had even seen saltwater. I took Tracy to the front of the boat to meet up with Vanya and Rose. The boat slowly came to a stop at one of the private docks, which were on the westernmost side of the island. The captain called out to the four of us.

“Welcome to Pouli Island! Make sure you folks don’t forget anything, we won’t be back until three nights from now!”

“Thank you so much, sir!” Rose shouted back. She turned to Vanya. “Let’s go explore the town! I want to see all the people!”

Vanya groaned. “Calm down a bit, Rose. We just got here, we still have plenty of time before we have to check into the hotel.”

Rose basically ripped Vanya off of the boat, dragging her down the dock excitedly. Tracy took my hand.

“Come on, I can hear music!”

I could hear it too. Small drums, guitars, and all other kinds of instruments seemed to be playing an upbeat tune from the town. Once all four of us got off of the dock and made it into town, I saw the source. A handful of people were playing in the plaza. There was a traditional island beat to the music, like playful waves moving up and down a sandy shore. There was one instrument that stood out, however. A flute, playing quietly behind the others, released a melancholy tune that weaved through the other notes in the music. Tracy didn’t seem to notice. She was bouncing to the joyful bongos, swaying to the playful guitars. I couldn’t help but focus on the flute, though. It was entrancing, absorbing. Before it felt like I was completely lost in the music, the band stopped, and the small audience around them clapped. Each player walked away in different directions, and the audience dispersed.

“Wasn’t that really good?” Tracy was still bouncing a little, as if the music was still playing.

“It was nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?”

“I mean, I liked it, I just think the flute was out of place.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Flute? I didn’t hear a flute.”

“It was really quiet.”

Tracy chuckled. “Come on. There’s more of the city to see.” She kissed my cheek, once again taking my hand and guiding me deeper into the town. She didn’t usually act this loving, although when she did it was mostly in private. Now she was willing to show it in front of complete strangers, in a foreign place. It made me happy, yet anxious at the same time.

As we walked through the town, we got to see more of the local culture. Foods of various kinds were served all over the place, ranging from grilled meats to fresh vegetables and even frozen treats like popsicles. Children were playing with a ball in the streets while their mothers sat at nearby tables and laughed over a cup of coffee. Everything seemed to be full of energy and happiness, until we were almost out of town. In one of the many narrow alleyways, a small old woman ran into us, holding her hand out as a signal for us to stop. Tracy greeted her.

“Hello, ma’am!”

The woman looked up at her, then at me. She smiled as she looked into my eyes. “Child, have you seen them yet?”

I pulled my head back in confusion. “What?”

“The shadows, child. The ones who walk this island.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” “You’ve seen them elsewhere, haven’t you? In the corners of your vision. At the foot of your bed. Always watching…”

“I’m sorry, what are you--?”

Tracy cut me off. “Ma’am, please. We’re trying to enjoy our vacation.” She walked past the old woman, signalling for me to follow closely.

As we walked away, the woman called out to us. “They come at night, child! Be careful!” Tracy began walking faster, and we eventually turned back onto the main street and started our way out of the town. It was clear she was upset. When we reached the dirt road that left town and stretched all the way to the hotel, we stopped walking. I texted Vanya that we were waiting for her, then turned to Tracy.

“Hey, you okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah, that lady was just ruining the whole vibe. I was getting into exploring the city and talking to locals, then she had to make things weird.”

I agreed with her, yet at the same time I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that maybe something wasn’t right with this place. It was as if a strange energy flowed through everything, everyone. As if that flute was constantly playing in the background of every interaction, big or small. It made me nervous, but I hid the feeling away. This trip was for Tracy, after all. It wouldn’t be right for me to act in a way that would make it less enjoyable for her.

When Vanya and Rose finally met up with us again, we began the long walk from the town to the hotel. It was on the opposite side of the island, although the island wasn’t too big. Taxi services were available, but they’re fairly pricey, and I had already spent a decent amount on the ferry service to the island itself. Thankfully, Rose talked the whole way. She explained every little thing that she and Vanya did at the town, like how they missed the band because she wanted to chase a blue butterfly down an alleyway, or how a man tried to get her number but was met with a very angry Vanya. The goofy stories made the walk go by quickly, and before we knew it we had reached the entrance to the hotel.

The lobby was a massive hallway. It was two stories tall, with a crystal chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling. It was mostly empty, save for a few families sitting on couches to our right. Vanya immediately went to the receptionist, so the rest of us walked towards the far side of the large room. The wall facing the beach was entirely made of glass, giving us a good view of the beach. The sun was setting now, the water reflecting flame-like hues from the darkening sky. Tracy and Rose continued to look out the window while I scanned the rest of the lobby. Small staircases on either side of the room took you to the second floor of the lobby. There, rows of doors led to various rooms. A hallway also stretched from the second floor to the mall attached to the hotel. I looked down, seeing the many rugs covering the lobby floor. Most had the stereotypical beach aesthetic, with shells, fish, and coral being evenly spread about to create the sense that we were walking on an ocean. In all honesty, it wasn’t a look I was very fond of. Having grown up surrounded by similar sights, they’d completely lost their appeal to me. Vanya finally walked away from the receptionist’s desk, holding two keycards in one of her hands and a pamphlet in the other. She approached me first, as the other two were talking by the glass wall.

“Take this.” She handed me one of the keycards, marked “406”. “They also gave me this paper about the island, you want it?”

“Nah, maybe one of them does.” I gesture towards Rose and Tracy. Vanya took long strides towards them. When she reached them, she held out the pamphlet. Rose swiped it from her hand, read it for a moment, then handed it to Tracy. She folded it neatly before tucking it away in her pocket. The three of them exchanged some more words before Rose dragged Vanya towards one of the elevators. Tracy skipped towards me.

“Do you have our keycard?”

“Yeah, Vanya gave it to me.” I show her the blue card. “You ready to head to the room?”

“You know it, walking around town made me exhausted!”

We tried to get on the same elevator as Rose and Vanya, but Rose had already closed the doors in her excitement, so we got on the second elevator. The walls looked like copper, and were as reflective as a mirror. I grabbed onto one of the small railings as Tracy hit the button to our floor. The elevator moved slowly, playing a soft song similar to the ones we heard in the town. Almost by instinct, I tried listening for a flute, but there was none. When we had reached our floor, we stepped out of the elevator and turned left. I used the keycard on the door labelled “406”, hearing a click in the handle. I opened the door and walked into the dark room, examining my surroundings. A small kitchenette was to the left of the entrance, with the bathroom being across from it. Walking further into the room revealed a king-sized bed to my right, with a small table and a large flatscreen against the opposite wall. A glass door on the farthest wall lead to a small balcony, which overlooked the beachfront.

I threw my bag under the table and jumped onto the bed, groaning loudly. Tracy jumped on top of me, making me groan even louder.

“Why are you so heavy?”

“Excuse me?! That’s a little rude, you know.”

I chuckled to myself. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

She scoffed as she got off of me, sitting upright at the edge of the bed. “You better be.”

I shuffled over, sitting next to her. “How are you liking the trip so far?”

“I like it, but it only just started. I’m sure it’ll get a lot better once we actually go to the beach.”

I frowned. “Did you not enjoy the town? It seemed like you were having a good time.”

She shook her head. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I loved the town! I’m just more excited for the beach.”

My frown disappeared. “Well, I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

She looked into my eyes, smiling. “Even if it doesn’t, I’m sure it’ll be fun to spend some quality time with you.”

I chuckled to myself before standing up and kissing her softly on the forehead. “I’ll be right back, got to use the bathroom real quick.”

“All right! I’ll get a cup of cold water ready for you.”

“Thank you.” I walked away from the bed, past the small table, and into the bathroom. It was a little small, although that was to be expected from one of the cheaper rooms in the hotel. I pulled my pants down and sat onto the toilet, relieving myself. The silence of the bathroom was eerie, almost piercing. I could hear Tracy pouring water into a cup and giggling to herself, but it sounded distant, as if she was three rooms away from me. When I was finished, I pulled up my pants and washed my hands. The water that came out of the sink was cold, almost freezing. It reminded me of the mountains, the place I called home. It always fascinated people how I had left the lush tropical paradise I was born in so quickly. Many of them didn’t realize that paradise tends to get boring quickly. I walked out of the bathroom and saw my cup on the table. I walked over to grab a sip, the cool water flowing down my throat. I sighed deeply before turning to Tracy, who was completely covered by the blanket except for her face.

“What, are you cold?”

“Maybe a little. Why don’t you come here and help me warm up?”

I understood the situation then. I laughed. “You know, you can be direct with me.” I walked over to the bed, taking everything off but my underwear and sliding under the covers. Tracy held the blanket tight against her body, making sure I didn’t catch any previews.

“There’s no fun in being direct. Besides, I know you love it.”

I slid close to her, feeling her body against mine. She definitely wasn’t cold. She wrapped her arms around me, and I did the same back. We shared a deep and passionate kiss, before she pulled away suddenly. “I just realized we forgot to take showers.”

“We could continue this there…”

“You know, you’re a genius.”

I got out of the bed first, making sure my phone was plugged in and face-down. “I’ll wait for you there.”

“Just go already!” She giggled to herself as I rushed to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up the next morning exhausted. We had stayed up late the previous night, yet I still managed to wake up early. I turned to see my phone, face-up. Hmm, that’s weird. I thought to myself. I don’t remember moving it. I tried to think about the night before, but my mind was occupied by other thoughts. After shaking them away, I grabbed my phone and checked for any notifications. Nothing. I put it back face-down and wiped my eyes. To help me wake up, I looked around the room, at the pictures of various parts of the island hanging around the place, and at the wallpaper that was tearing slightly at its old edges. My eyes then locked onto my water cup from the night before, seeing that it had been moved to the opposite side of the table. I got up, looking around the room and checking to see if anything else had been moved, but there was nothing. I turned to the door to see any signs of forced entry, only to see it completely unlocked. I panicked, searching through our bags to see if anything was stolen, but nothing was touched. My sudden movements caused Tracy to wake up with a jolt.

“Jesus, Tommy, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing?”

I realized I was crouched on the ground like an animal, so I stood up before responding. “Some things were moved around, and the door was unlocked, so I’m making sure nobody broke in.”

She had a sad look in her eyes. “Are you sure you weren’t sleepwalking again? I’m sure everything we did last night didn’t let your brain properly prepare for sleep. Plus, you can’t open the door from outside, even if it’s unlocked. That’s what the keycards are for, right?”

Maybe she was right. I put everything back into the bags I was looking through and walked back to the bed, sitting down on my side. “Sorry, guess I was spooked for no reason. How are you doing?”

“Well, I’m a little tired, but I’m all right.” She put her hand against my head, probably to check if I was sick. “What time is it?”

I checked my phone. “Around seven thirty. I’ll start brewing some coffee for us, I’m pretty sure Vanya and Rose will be up any second now.”

I stood up from the bed and moved into the small kitchen. I checked the cabinets until I found a coffee machine, placing it carefully on the table and plugging it in. After filling the reservoir with water and putting a coffee packet into it, I pressed a few buttons to get the water boiling. At this point Tracy was out of the bed, doing her morning stretches. She walked to her bag, giving me a kiss on the cheek as she passed by. She picked it up and grabbed her swimsuit out of it.

“I’m gonna change real quick.” She walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I decided to do the same, grabbing my black swimming trunks and sliding them on. I had forgotten about the netting in them, and they were immediately uncomfortable. I took them off and cut the netting out before putting them on again. Much better. She walked back out the door wearing a thin yellow beach dress.

Tracy and I sat at the small table, sipping on warm coffee and waiting for either Rose to text us or for Vanya to bang on our door. We heard them in the room next to us, room 405. It sounded like they were making jokes and laughing together. Rose was the only person who could ever make Vanya smile. Even though we’re best friends, the most I could get out of her was a snort. Despite their laughter, it was clear that they were moving around and getting ready for the day.

Tracy put her empty cup down. She always drank coffee very quickly. “So, what do you have planned for us today?”

I put my cup on the table as well. “We’ll be swimming at the beach for a while, one of the small ones the hotel owns right here. Then I have a few jet skis I rented out for two o’clock, so we can ride those for a little bit. For dinner we’ll be eating at the beachside restaurant, and then we’ll go to the game room to relax for a bit before we hit the hay.”

Tracy giggled excitedly. “I hope today goes super well! I’ve been waiting for a long time to see a beach. Wait, how many jet skis did you rent? One for each of us?”

“Oh, no way. They’re pretty pricey, so I rented two, one for each couple. Plus, I wouldn’t trust you on a jet ski.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad driver?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

She jokingly slapped my arm while I laughed. “You’re such a jerk.”

“I love you too.” My phone vibrated on the table, grabbing both of our attention. It was a text from Rose.

Vanya and Rose were waiting outside of our door. Rose looked like a native, wearing a straw hat and a pink beach skirt over her swimsuit. Vanya, on the other hand, was wearing her black wetsuit. They contrasted each other like night and day.

“Good morning, guys!” Rose was as chippy as ever. “Are you ready to head to the beach?”

I checked the time on my phone. Seven fifty. “Yeah, they’ll be serving breakfast in ten minutes. Let’s head down to the dining room.”

This time we all managed to get on the elevator together. That same island music was playing, and like before I tried hearing for the flute. Nothing but drums and ukuleles. When we reached the ground floor, we walked through the massive lobby and turned into a large room filled with tables and chairs. The hotel serves three meals a day here, and all of them are complimentary with the stay, despite the many restaurants on the island. We all got into a surprisingly small line and grabbed breakfast before sitting back down. We mostly ate in silence, so I turned to a small T.V. that was against one of the nearby walls (there were many in the room). It was playing an ad for the resort and other places on the island. The monotonous tone of the woman’s voice was as uninteresting as anything could be, until she started explaining the island’s history.

“Many years ago, native islanders had settled onto this island and given it its name. They were only here for about two years before suddenly disappearing. Researchers have tried to find out why, only to find nothing. Many believe the secret lies in the untapped wilderness to the island’s north, while others say the answer lies all around us. Could you uncover the mystery of Pouli Island?”

For some reason it reminded me of the old woman from the town. I shook my head and scarfed down what was left of my breakfast. Everybody else had finished before me. “Are we all ready to head out?”

Vanya groaned. “I might’ve eaten too much. Do we have to go swimming right away?”

Rose suddenly got excited. “We can tan for a bit before swimming!”

“Rose, I’m wearing a wetsuit. Plus, I don’t really tan, that’s why I’m so pale.”

“The only reason you’re pale is because you never go outside! Although I guess your wetsuit will get in the way…”

Tracy laughed. “We did bring sunscreen, right? Vanya and I will definitely need it.”

I looked through the small bag I brought with me. “Yep, we have sunscreen.”

Tracy stood up first. “Let’s get going, then!”

We all followed suit, grabbing our things and leaving the dining room before walking out of the lobby’s main entrance. We followed a brick path that quickly turned to soft sand. It took us around the hotel as we walked by several tiki huts. It was still fairly early, but many of the huts were already occupied by people drinking and playing music. We walked past them until we got to a calmer side of the beach. Only two other families were there at the time, so we had plenty of space. The ocean was absolutely beautiful. It had the iridescent shine of an aquamarine gemstone, and was so clear that we could see fish swimming through the coral reef in the distance. The sand was soft, almost impossibly soft. There were no sharp edges whatsoever, as if the hotel hired people to meticulously pick up shells that would be unpleasant to visitors. I laughed at the idea. Tracy heard me as she was laying out a few towels for us.

“What’s so funny, mister?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking silly thoughts.”

“All right, put some sunscreen on already. I want to get in the water with you!”

The women had already applied sunscreen, and Vanya was racing Rose to the water. I guess Vanya’s stomach didn’t hurt anymore, either that or her competitive spirit made her forget all about it. I took off my shirt and put sunscreen over my entire body. Even though I had more tolerance to the sun than the others, I knew living in the mountains and snow for so long meant that I could still get burnt easily. Once the lotion dried, I ran with Tracy to the water and jumped in. The cool water was refreshing after being in the hot sun. I opened my eyes underwater like I used to when I was young. The water was still perfectly clear, and I could see the fish moving between our legs. We swam in the water for hours, occasionally stepping out to play in the sand. By the time we finished constructing a gigantic sandcastle, we were completely exhausted.

I went to my phone to check the time. One o’clock. “Hey, why don’t we go grab lunch? I’m sure there’s something by the jet ski rental place, so let’s look over there.”

Tracy was the only one that heard me. Vanya and Rose were still in the water. “What time is it, babe?”

“One.”

“You said the jet skis were rented for two, right? We might as well head over there.” She grabbed a towel and started drying herself off. “Do you wanna grab the other two? Or do you want me to do it?”

“Nah, I got it. Hey, Vanya! Rose! We’re gonna go get lunch!”

Rose jumped out of the water. “Yay, food!”

Vanya laughed at her, trying her best to cover it up. We all dried off and headed over to the jet ski rental place. I was right, there were plenty of little bars serving all kinds of food and drinks. There were a lot of people here, and it started to make me a bit nervous. I could tell many of them were drunk, their words were slurred and their movements were uneven. Their conversations carried with them that same strange sound from before. That same flute, echoing through sentences, footsteps, even the waves seemed to carry it. I grabbed Tracy’s hand, and without saying a word she squeezed my hand tightly. She knew I could get nervous from time to time, and she knew how to comfort me. We reached one of the more empty bars and began to order food.

Vanya spoke first. “I’ll have the beef bowl, extra beef.”

Rose was next. “A caesar salad, please! Oh, could I have a side of fries with that? Thank you!”

Tracy’s turn. “I’ll just have a burger. Yeah, everything on it is fine.”

The man working at the bar turned to me, and I froze. I was so focused on staying calm, I forgot to think of what to get. Tracy quickly spoke up for me. “He’ll have the same thing as me, just no tomatoes.”

The worker nodded and disappeared into the back before walking back out and helping other customers. I sighed.

“Thanks, Tracy. I owe you one.”

“It’s no biggie. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, just a little shook for some reason. I’ll be fine.”

She smiled at me, holding onto my hand tightly. “I’m so grateful you did this for me, you know that?”

“I know, I know. Like I said yesterday, I just wanted to give you a break from work.”

She kissed me. It was a little unexpected, so I kind of fell backwards. “I really appreciate that.” The worker came up to the four of us, handing out our meals. My burger was absolutely delicious, I could tell the meat was fresh. I even tried a bit of Vanya’s beef bowl, and that was good too. I guess when you pay for quality you should expect it, but the food was so good I completely lost all of my worries. Once everyone was finished eating, we were all energized again. We walked away from the bar and to the jet ski rental. There were two people working there, a man standing by the jet skis and a woman at a counter. I got into the line for the counter when the woman screamed suddenly.

“Tommy! Your rental for two o’clock is ready! If you’re here, go see Dylan by the jet skis!”

I slipped out of line and rejoined the group. “Come on.” I motioned for them to follow. I walked up to the man, who I now knew was Dylan.

“Hey! You Tommy?”

“Yep. Just here to grab my two rentals.”

“Sweet. Do at least one of you know how to drive?”

“Two of us, me and her.” I pointed to Vanya, who nodded. Vanya had the most experience with jet skis, but I’ve ridden a few in the past.

“Awesome! Here are your keys.” He gave them to Vanya and I. “Once you get them started, just go ahead and take them out of the bay slowly. When you’re out past the green buoys, you’re all good to go full speed!”

“Thank you.” The four of us walked past him, getting onto our jet skis. Vanya and Rose were quick, with Vanya being able to start the engine and pull out of the bay almost instantly. Tracy sat behind me as I put the key into the ignition, starting the engine. I slowly pulled on one of the handles, moving it back and feeling the engine hum under my legs. I moved away from the small pier the jet skis were lined up on, following Vanya and Rose. We cruised away from the beach, moving at a steady pace until we passed the buoys. Vanya turned to me, a competitive smile on her face.

“Hey, how about a quick race?”

“You sure, Vanya? It’s their first time, I don’t want to scare them.”

“Oh, they’ll be fine!” Vanya went full speed in a circle, causing Rose to squeal and cling onto her tightly. “See? Come on, they’ll love it.”

I turned around. “Are you cool with going really fast?”

Tracy nodded. “Be careful, okay?”

I planted my feet and grabbed the handlebar. “Might wanna hold on tight.”

The speed was incredible. We zipped over the water, flying at sixty miles per hour over the surprisingly flat water. I managed to win the race this time, which obviously bugged Vanya, but everybody had fun nonetheless. Taking a look around, I realized how far we had gone from the original beach. There were no buildings on the island here, just dense forest. We were surprisingly close to the island’s mountain, its peak towering over us. A breeze came out of the forest. It was cold.

Tracy tugged on my shirt a bit, grabbing my attention. “How long are we allowed to rent the jet skis for?”

I stared into the woods, feeling the cold air. “I’m not sure but we better head back.” I heard a strange noise. I tried to listen to it, but Vanya interrupted my concentration.

“That race kind of scared Rose, so we’ll take it easy back. You guys can go fast if you want.”

I continued looking at the forest. “Nah, we’ll stay with you guys.” I turned away, and we moved slowly back to the beach. As we moved away from the trees, I could still hear the sound over the loud engines. Soft and shrill, as if it was produced by that cold wind. It was almost like the sound of a flute, beckoning us to come closer to the forest.

When we finally reached the beach again, we moved into the bay and parked our jet skis on the pier. The rental guy walked to us. “How was the ride?”

Rose jumped up and down like a kid. I could tell the guy watched her chest move. Vanya seemed pissed. “It was so much fun! We went super fast, and made it all the way to where the forest is!”

The guy was shocked. “The forest? You all went that far north?”

Vanya got in front of Rose, blocking the man’s curious eyes. “Yes. Were we not allowed to?”

He shrugged. “Well, normally we try to tell people to stay close to the beach, but it’s too late now. I’ll take your keys back.” Vanya basically tossed hers to him as she pulled Rose away. I handed mine to him.

“Sorry we left the beach, we got distracted while racing.”

“No worries, man. Take it easy.”

Tracy and I met back up with Vanya and Rose. I checked my phone to see the time. Three. “Dinner doesn’t really start until later. You guys wanna swing by the game room now?”

Tracy nodded. “Could we head to our rooms first? I’d like to get out of this swimsuit.”

“Yeah.” Vanya said. “We should probably just take showers now so we’re not covered in salt by the time we sit down for dinner.”

We walked around the beach again, going into the lobby. It was freezing inside, so we wrapped ourselves in our towels (except for Vanya, who’s wetsuit kept her relatively warm) and rushed into the elevator. When we reached our floor, we all stepped out and hurried into our rooms. I closed the door behind me.

“Quick, you or me first?” I asked.

“Why not at the same time?” Tracy answered.

“Again? We’re about to go eat dinner.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Ah, whatever. Maybe I did mean it like that.”

“Then let’s get in because I’m freezing!”

“Sounds like a plan!”

The game room was on the second floor of the lobby. It was completely empty, so we basically got to play whatever we wanted. There was a pool table, ping pong, air hockey, and even a few board games tucked away neatly in one of the corners. I personally wanted to play backgammon, but nobody else knew how to play, so that was shot down quickly. We started by holding a small chess tournament. I went up against Tracy and lost horribly.

“How many times have you played chess?” She asked me.

“I don’t know, a few times.”

She laughed to herself. “Okay, that explains a lot!”

She then went up against Rose, who was surprisingly good at chess. Vanya was furious at her loss, and dragged me to the air hockey table.

“I’m mad now. Let me beat you so I can feel better about it.”

“Vanya, it’s air hockey. I'm a killer at this.”

She moved to her side, grabbing her striker aggressively. “I’ll kill your face.”

“We’ll see about that.”

While Rose and Tracy quietly continued their game, Vanya and I played what had to be the most intense air hockey game of my life. She’s a strong woman, and could hit that puck so fast I couldn’t see it. Somehow, I managed to still hit it back to her, almost at the same speed. It would go back and forth, barely managing to stay on the table, until it would finally go into one of the goals. When Rose and Tracy finished their game, they came up to the table and watched us play. The score was a tied six to six. One more would win the game. Vanya held the puck in her hand.

“This is it. You ready to lose?”

“Normally I would say yes, but I actually think I’ll win this one.”

Vanya grunted. She carefully put the puck down on her side, grabbing her striker so tightly her knuckles turned white. In a flash her arm moved, sending the puck bouncing off the walls and straight towards my goal. I managed to hit it hard enough to send it straight back. We continued like this for almost ten minutes when I finally managed to slide the puck into her goal. She screamed in frustration. I screamed in excitement.

“Woah, you guys are intense!” Rose had wide eyes the whole time we were playing. “I couldn’t even see the thing moving around!” Vanya sighed in frustration, and Rose gave her a hug. “You did great, honey.”

I walked over to the other side of the table, extending my hand out. “Great game, Vanya.”

She shook my hand. “Whatever. I let you win.”

Tracy looked at the time on her phone. “It’s actually pretty late, guys. I think it’s time for us to eat dinner.”

Rose raised her arms in the air. “Woo! Fancy restaurant time!”

The restaurant wasn’t as fancy as we hoped. The main dining room was full of tables, many of which were occupied. There was a large stage near the front of the room, with a string quartet currently occupying it. We sat down and gave our waitress our order.

“Tracy, are you enjoying the island?” Rose asked her.

“Oh, yeah! It’s great!”

“That’s good to hear! What about you Tommy?”

“I’m actually having a lot more fun than I thought I would.” I looked around at the walls and ceiling. The architecture was fairly plain, and the paintings on the walls seemed to be of different places on the island. The girls continued to talk while I listened to the music. It was very quiet and mellow. When our food arrived, we were all somewhat upset with the bland taste, but tried our best to enjoy it nonetheless. Halfway through our meals, an announcement cut off the music.

“And now, we’ll have a special performance from our guest for the night, Lady Ombre! She’ll be playing a Pouli Island classic, something even the original islanders would play. Take it away!”

The room darkened, and light focused on a woman dressed in black on the stage. She had a wooden flute in her hand, and when she brought it to her mouth, she began playing a soft yet melancholic tune. It was entrancing, drawing everybody in the room to watch her performance. It was as if the notes themselves were trying to reach out to me. I began to feel anxious. I looked around the room quickly, seeing everybody watch her. I could also see things in the corners of my eyes. They looked like people, standing in the room, staring at me. The song reached its climax, the notes becoming faster and more aggressive. The shadows began laughing, as if they knew something I didn’t. Then the song was over, and the lights slowly came back on. The shadows were gone, and I let out a sigh of relief. Applause rose from across the dining room, then people went right back to their food. I wanted to ask the others if they saw what I did, but I brushed the thought away. Even if it was real, they probably wouldn’t believe me.

After finishing our meals, we walked back to our rooms, completely exhausted from the day’s activities. Very few words were exchanged, we mostly just walked in silence and said good night when we reached our rooms. As I closed and locked the door behind me, I heard Tracy flop onto the bed.

“I am so unbelievably tired. What time is it?”

I checked my phone. “Almost eleven. We should probably go to bed.”

She took off most of her clothes, leaving her underwear on. She slipped under the covers. “Are we going to the beach again tomorrow?”

“Nah.” I stripped to my boxer briefs and joined her in the bed. “We’ll be walking around the mall and checking out some of the small stores they have, grab a few souvenirs, that kind of stuff. It’ll be a more relaxed day than today.”

She yawned loudly. “Thank goodness!” She turned onto her side, facing me. “Not that I didn’t like the beach, but it is super tiring to be out in the sun all day.”

“Heh, I agree. It’s the reason I moved up north.”

“This place is nice, but I definitely prefer living in the mountains. All of this would just get stale too quickly.”

“Yup. I lived here for about nineteen years before I finally left.”

“Must’ve sucked.”

“It wasn’t all bad. I just wanted a change.”

She moved close to me, hugging me tightly. “Well, I’m very thankful you moved. Otherwise we would have never met.”

I smiled, then gave her a small kiss on the head. “All right, it’s bedtime.”

She gave me a kiss on the shoulder before moving away to her side of the bed. “Good night!”

“Good night.” I turned off the lamp next to me, the room turning dark. The only light source was the moon, which peered through the glass door and windows. Tracy was out instantly. I followed closely, the sound of wind outside lulling me to a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of a door closing made me spring awake. I felt Tracy jolt up as well. I reached over and turned on the lamp, seeing our bags opened and things spread about everywhere. I jumped out of bed and ran to the entrance, seeing the door unlocked. I swung it open to see if I could catch who was in the room, but there was nobody in the hallway. I closed the door before moving back to the bed. Tracy seemed really tense.

“Babe, what was that?”

“I don’t know, I think somebody somehow got into our room.”

“Should we call the police?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll call them. You just breathe and relax.”

I didn’t actually know the number for the police, so I called hotel security instead, and they arrived with a few policemen. While Tracy stayed in the bed, I explained to the officers what had happened.

“We both woke up to the sound of our door closing, and our things were thrown around in the room.”

The officer I was talking to looked down at me. He was surprisingly tall. “So you heard them leaving, but not entering? How would they get into your room?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did you lock the front door?”

“Yes, I’m certain of it.”

He leaned towards his partner, muttering a few words before turning back to me. “I’ll inform hotel security to guard your room and keep a watch on this floor. I’ll also have a few of my men stationed outside just in case. You two can go to bed now.”

After they left, I locked the door, even putting the chain onto it. I got into the bed, and Tracy gave me a big hug. She had been crying.

“I’m so happy you're okay.” She said it very quietly, almost a whisper.

“Yep, everything is okay now. The police and hotel security are going to keep us safe until we leave.”

“What if they come back?”

I held her tightly. “Like I said, everything is okay now. We’re safe, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Despite the situation, we both managed to eventually calm down by watching some funny videos on our phones. After I turned off the lamp, we shared one more hug before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

We gave ourselves the morning to relax and drink our coffee while watching a movie on the room’s T.V. Around 10, Vanya knocked on our door, and we let both her and Rose in. While they sat at the table, I filled them in on what we experienced the night before.

Vanya scratched her head. “Well, at least you guys are safe now.” Rose was shaking, her normally immovable smile gone.

“Yeah.” I replied. “The police said they’ll keep watch of the outside and this hallway, just in case.”

“That’s reassuring.”

We all agreed that taking the day easy was the best option. We sat in the room talking and watching the T.V. until around noon, when we all decided to go to the lobby and grab lunch. On the way to the elevator, we noticed two security guards keeping watch over our hallway. I waved to one of them. They didn’t wave back.

After having sandwiches at the dining room, we headed to the second floor of the lobby, which had a hallway connecting it to the nearby mall. The walls of the hallway were adorned with pictures from around the island, with little snippets of information to match every photograph. I didn’t look at them too long. They made me feel anxious, as if there were something hiding in the dark corners, waiting to jump out from the still frames.

Entering from the second story of the mall was an interesting experience. The second floor was more like a raised walkway, with openings to see down into the first floor. Stores were everywhere, ranging from souvenir and jewelry shops to game stores and small restaurants. One of the stores even had two floors to itself. We walked around the mall for a few hours, window shopping and seeing what we would want to bring back home with us. At one point, Tracy motioned for me to come see something.

“Look at this necklace.” She pointed into one of the display cases of a small kiosk. It was a silver necklace, with a black jewel adorning it. The jewel seemed more like a rock, completely opaque and only shining with certain angles of light. The kiosk owner came up to us, a big smile on her face.

“Are you interested in our obsidian pendant? The obsidian rock is actually obtained from the northern part of the island, where lava has cooled and hardened. The silver is eighty percent pure, with a small bit of titanium mixed into it to ensure more durability and to prevent oxidation. If you’re looking for even more toughness, we also have obsidian pendants with pure titanium, however they won’t be as shiny.”

I turned to Tracy. “I think it’s pretty. Not too flashy, either.” I turn back to the kiosk owner. “How much would it cost?”

“The pure titanium version will cost around three-hundred, while the silver one will only be about fifty more.”

I went wide-eyed, looking at Tracy. She already had her card out. “I’ll take it!”

The kiosk attendance snatched her card quickly, her smile never wavering. “And will you be taking the silver or titanium variation?”

“Titanium, please.”

Tracy put the necklace on while we walked away from the kiosk, holding the obsidian up to admire it. We met up with Vanya and Rose in a small bakery, sitting down at a table they had been waiting at. Both of them seemed to love the pendant as well.

“The obsidian jewel is beautiful!” Rose exclaimed. “And I’ve heard that its energy can protect you from darkness.”

Tracy nodded. “I don’t really believe that stuff, but I will say I feel safer with this around.”

Vanya shook her head. “Energy or not, it’s gorgeous. I don’t even like jewelry and I would wear that.”

A waiter brought us croissants, which Rose ordered for us while we were at the kiosk. After we finished those, we started heading back for the hotel, since there wasn’t actually much to do or see in the mall. When we got back to our floor, there were new security guards in the hall. It made me much more comfortable, and I could tell by the girls’ joyous expressions that they were still able to have fun despite the previous night. I waved to one of the guards. They waved back this time.

We all decided to hang out in room 406, sitting down on the large bed and watching a movie on the T.V. It was a gritty action movie, and while they generally weren’t my favorite, I enjoyed relaxing with Tracy and the others. When the movie was over, we ordered pizza through room service. We got a large pepperoni pizza, along with a personal vegetarian pizza for Rose. We put another movie on (this time a comedy), and when it was finished it was almost eleven P.M. Vanya yawned loudly.

“Rose, I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh, come on Vanya! Just one more movie, please?”

“We need to be up early to catch the boat going home, come on.”

When Rose didn’t move, Vanya picked her up and carried her out of the room. Tracy laughed loudly. I’m sure the guards outside laughed too. Wiping tears from her eyes, Tracy looked at me. “We should be heading to bed too.”

“Agreed.”

Before we got too comfortable, I went to the front door, locking it and putting the chain on. For extra security, I even made sure the balcony door was locked. I slipped my shirt and pants off before getting into bed with Tracy, who had already fallen asleep. I noticed the pendant on the nightstand next to her, the titanium reflecting the moon’s rays. I laid flat on my back, staring at the ceiling for a while before closing my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

When I opened them again, I was confused. It was still night, and no noise had startled me awake. I tried getting up when I realized I couldn’t move. I panicked for a moment before remembering that it was just sleep paralysis. I breathed slowly, taking a moment to scan the room before seeing it.

It stood at the foot of our bed, about the size and shape of an average man, yet it wasn’t a man. Despite the moon’s light, it was completely black. It twitched around, shaking frantically and moving its head and arms in ways no human could. A soft noise came from it every few seconds, like a quiet grunt. I tried my best to make it disappear, assuming it was another hallucination, but it stayed there. I even tried closing and opening my eyes, only to see it still shaking in the room. Now I was really panicking, trying my best to break out of my paralysis. It suddenly took a step, moving to the right side of the bed, Tracy’s side. It took another step. Its steps were stuttered and uneven, and it would stop for a moment before taking another one. It walked slowly towards Tracy. I followed it with my eyes, seeing as it stood over Tracy before leaning over her in a jerky movement. With an immense effort, I managed to turn my head, which caught its attention. It raised its head at me. I couldn’t see its mouth, nor its nose, but I saw its eyes. Large, almost circular eyes. It was as if its eyelids had been cut off.

After staring at each other for what felt like an hour, it suddenly stood up straight and stuttered away, walking frantically to the door. By the time I could fully move, I heard the front door close. I scrambled to it, seeing it was unlocked. I undid the chain and swung the door open, running out to the blinding beam of a guard’s flashlight.

“Sir, is everything all right?”

“Did you see a man leave this room?!”

The guard lowered her light. “No, sir. So far you’re the only person who’s left any room tonight.”

I shook my head. “Th-there was a thing in my room, and it ran out here. I swear!”

The guard got closer to me. “Sir, I assure you, there has been nobody else out here but you. Please, return to your room. We don’t want to bother the other hotel patrons.”

After locking the door behind me, I returned to the bed. Tracy was wide awake, shaking. “Did something happen again?”

“I… I don’t know.”

I explained what I saw to her. Her fear seemed to fade away. “Well, you do have a lot of sleep paralysis, and I’m sure what happened yesterday night really set it off.”

“But Tracy, I promise you this wasn’t normal sleep paralysis. This thing seemed real!”

She shushed me. “No need to be loud, everybody else is sleeping. I want to believe you, but there’s no way somebody could’ve gotten in, let alone run out without being seen by one of the security guards.”

I shook my head. I know what I saw had to be real, because I’ve had hallucinations, and they weren’t like that. Either way, I decided to drop it. “Let’s just go back to bed. We can talk about this another time.”

She hugged me, easing the worry I had that I had made her angry. “Good night.” She went back to her side, taking a moment to look at her pendant before falling back asleep. I laid down on my back again, but the image of those eyes never left my mind. I didn’t fall asleep for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling until dawn. The silver light from the moon was slowly replaced with golden sunlight, and around eight I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, Vanya was standing outside alone.

“Tommy? You look exhausted.”

“Thanks. Where’s Rose?”

“Getting ready. Tracy?”

“Sleeping. I’ll get her up.”

After everybody was up, Rose and Vanya stayed in our room while I explained what happened the night before. Vanya scratched her chin, thinking about the situation. “And you don’t think this was a hallucination?” I shook my head. Tracy sighed.

“Tommy, it had to be a hallucination. I think the trip triggered some memories or something that’s making your conditions worse.”

Vanya looked around the room. Her eyes locked onto the sliding glass door, which she approached with powerful strides. “Tommy, did you lock this door?”

“Yeah, I did.”

She pulled on the handle, the door opening with ease. She closed it, locked it, then pulled on the handle again. The door opened again, unlocking itself. “Maybe they got in through here.”

Tracy stood up. “That can’t be possible. We’re almost five stories off the ground, plus there were guards everywhere. Even if they got in, how did nobody see them leave?”

Vanya shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, how was both the front and sliding door unlocked when Tommy locked them both?”

“Guys, stop!” Rose was standing now, tears forming in her eyes. “This trip has already been scary enough, can’t we just get along until we’re home?!” Hearing her shout made me feel horrible. I had never seen Rose this upset before. I think it had a similar effect on the other two.

Vanya scratched her head. “Sorry, Rose. You’re right. Whether there was somebody here or not, everybody is okay, and that’s what matters.”

Tracy nodded. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day together.”

After checking out of our room and giving back our keycards, we began the walk back to the island’s town. The trip was mostly silent, with tension still existing between Vanya and Tracy. It was clear they were both upset they couldn’t win the argument from before.

When we reached the town we wasted no time, walking along the main road straight to the docks. The city was as loud as always, with music pouring onto the main street from several different alleyways. We got to the docks to find our boat waiting for us. The captain called out to us in his booming voice.

“Good morning! Climb aboard, I’ll be taking you home whenever you’re ready!”

The girls all went below deck, but I decided to go to the back of the boat instead. I watched as we drifted away from the dock, the boat turning and moving away from the island. As we moved further away, the music from the town seemed to slowly fade, being replaced by the sound of strong wind coming from the island. When I looked at the docks one more time, I noticed a figure there I recognized. It was the old woman, waving at me. It was then that I realized that the wind sounded like a flute, as if the island itself was trying to pull me back with a soft melody. I shook my head and walked into the cabin with the girls, closing the door behind me.

#writing #short story #story #horror #suspense #writing is literally the worst hobby ever why did i do this to myself

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igotthejuice · 4 years

Text

Part 2 of My Bumble Date from Hell

Okay, I’m back! So anyways, I ran behind him out of fear he was going to put his hands on her but don’t worry, he’s not a complete idiot, he didn’t touch her. He did get real close to her and started yelling at her. By the time I got over there she was walking away. I finally told him we need to go. He insisted he was fine and to not let that moment ruin our date…too fucking late but you know what, for whatever dumb ass reason I said okay LI still regret that decision and it got so much worse. So, now that everyone’s staring at us, we go back to our picnic area and he continues to drink and record me *eye roll*. Oh he brought speakers too, I’m not gonna lie, his music choice was a vibe. But he ruined that shit too low key. He acted like it was his playlist but it was actually a Brent Faiyaz Spotify playlist…which, I mean I’m not judging…but I’m judging, but only because he acted like that was his beautiful creation. Why lie about that? Anyways, it happened guys, the moment I was most afraid of, he turned to me and said, “oh shit, you know Blaine?! She told me to tell you hi!” I was so fucking pissed. Blaine was one of those girls I knew but would never tell my business to. She seems to always know peoples business. I kid you not, within 30 seconds of him saying that, I got a DM from her saying “Yo you know he has a whole ass kid on the way right?” My. Stomach. Turned. I dropped my phone and just stared at him. His drunk ass didn’t even notice. So, once I gathered myself I told Blaine I had no fucking idea but good looks. I may not fuck with Blaine but in that moment I did, she responded with sending me the girls IG profile, clutch. Luckily it wasn’t private. My heart was racing, we all know that feeling, scrolling hella carefully to make sure you don’t accidentally like anything, meanwhile he’s just living his best live with not a clue of what’s going on. Just goofy. So I’m scrolling and it didn’t look like they were in a relationship but he was definitely the dad. The picture of them at the baby shower, yea y’all she’s been pregnant for a while, had a caption that said “Our situation may not be ideal but I’ll always respect you as the father of my son.” So that’s why I figured they probably aren’t dating but still! Call me crazy but if you have a kid or one on the way that’s definitely worth mentioning. So anyways, I’m scrolling and scrolling on her page and guess who tf I see. The girl taking the pictures of us. Yup, she was at the baby shower, I didn’t know her relation to them but she was for sure there. This idiot knew her all along. So now I’m pissed because I’m clearly caught up in some mess but also, this girl was really taking pics of me and my dumb ass was too naïve to realize, sticking up for her and everything. Ughhh!! So when I finally got over the initial shock, I was like “Yo”, and I showed him the phone. Y’all I can’t make this shit up, this man instantly burst into tears. Sir. Fuck is you cryin for? Because you were exposed? Ewww. I rolled my eyes and started packing my shit. He started crying even more and, I mean do have a heart y’all. I felt bad just leaving him there crying. Sometimes I wish I was ruthless. So here I was, consoling a liar in the middle of a pandemic, and he starts coming up with all of these reasons for why he didn’t tell me. All BS tbh. Oh and that girl is the future kids moms best friend AKA the God Mother. She happened to see us and was investigating, as any good friend would. Kudos to her frfr. So once he calmed down I told him we should leave and he said he wanted to show me something to try and make up for everything. I just wanted this “date” to be over but he clearly was hurting and I knew I would never talk to him ever again so I said fine. He suggested we go to the water to see the sunset. Ehhh that part was actually really cute. So anyways we were chillen by the water and it was beautiful, I was actually considering hearing him out when he sobered up BUT…this dumb ass thought it would be funny to rough house near the water, he thought tickling me would be cute…I hate being tickled. It’s the worst feeling because I’m telling the person to stop but I’m laughing so it’s misleading lol. I should start putting a “No tickling” disclaimer in my bios. Anyways, after trying to escape the “tickle monster” I kept backing up, tripped on a rock and fell in the Nasty! Ass! Water! I got out the water drenched and just fucking lost it! Everything I had bottled up just exploded and I just went off on him the way Tyra Banks went off on that one girl we were all supposedly rooting for back in the day. Anyways, I guess he didn’t like what I had to say because he started going off on me. I don’t really remember what he was saying because he was so damn drunk and barely making any sense but I do remember him saying “Nobodies fucking with your dusty ass anyways.” Oooop. Bruh that shit honestly had me weak though…but only because I know I’m not dusty and that’s on periodt. But also, I love a good roast session. So anyways, I’m walking back to go get my skates so I can get tf and they weren’t there…yup, my fucking skates were gone. I mean why not? It was a horrible date already, lets top it off with my skates being stolen, nbd. Anyways, I hopped my nasty soaked ass in an uber and ubered my ass home. As you know by now from my other blogs, ya girl is a whole ass investigator outchea. As soon as I got comfortable I went back on his future kids moms IG and just started digging lol. Lucky for me she’s one of those girls that posts everything so it was quite entertaining. I didn’t really find anything juicy out though, just that the bike he came with was hers, apparently he didn’t have a car for a while so she was kind enough to let him use her bike since she couldn’t use it right now, maybe it was her brothers, idk but regardless, the FUCKING nerve of him. Long story short, I got the juice and I don’t have time for shit like that and I think I answered my own question, no second chance for him. He’s actually texting me now saying he was so embarrassed and out of character. Aht aht, sucks to suck. Lmao what a damn mess? Well anyways, I’m about to be out. Oh guess what?! Remember the ex I mentioned a few blogs ago? The one that led to my 9 months of celibacy? I think it’s time I fill you guys in on that story. I’m going to a cookout this weekend and him and his new gf will be there. I hate having mutual friends with ex’s. The last time we spoke he drunk called me and told me he regrets everything and that he was sorry and he wanted to meet up…his girl was in the other room.

#igotthejuice #part2 #tickle monster #the nerve #aht aht #bumble date #periodt #wednesday #celibacy #date from hell #brent faiyaz #spotify

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dearosamu · 4 years

Text

DESPERADO - PARADISO

SYPNOSIS: she, a dancer with personified problems all the while more that intrigues osamu dazai who came into her life amidst the chaos that is [name] [last name].

note ; decided to post my dazai fanfic here !! making banners are fun. majority of the chapters are unedited btw.

WARNING/S: mentions of alcohol + consumption of it, implied nsfw (?)

more under the cut. [ will make masterlist soon ]

+ one - two

dazai is a man of many things. he has his needs, sure, as he would being one of the richest business man in yokohama and thanks to his success, a treat were to be served later that friday night.

though he was not familiar with the scene - flashing lights, blasting music from the speakers around and the thick air of intoxication was enough to make you dizzy and swirl around alone without the help of any alchohol.

not that it mattered to him at all, dazai downed the shot, grimacing slightly as the taste of alchohol burned his throat.

being a ceo had its perks with all that money of course, dazai and a few of his acquaintances had the power to afford even the most expensive strip clubs around-- including its dancers, of course.

dazai was a man of mysterious desires. no, he did not like being watched performed nor did he like big crowds. he preferred dances for only himself while he sat on a big arm chair and let his selfish needs be fulfilled by someone that caught his eye and possibly take them for a much more private session.

one of his part-time business partners, sakunosuke oda, introduced him to that club years ago. he was a regular and was always present whenever the brunette was. it was endearing as dazai had always liked his company but it was something he despised yet enjoyed.

"there's a new dancer," oda muttered to dazai as he downed on his second shot of tequila. he turned to face his business partner who had a few buttons missing on his button up shirt and his hair was slightly tousled. he could tell he only came back from a hot make-out session minutes ago.

he let out a short exasperated sigh, "[height], flexible and gorgeous. she might just be your type."

"what's her name?"

"people here call her krystle so i've heard."

"when will she come up?"

"probably the last one."

dazai showed a small closed eyed smile, chuckling. "i'll wait for her then,"

the two sat in comfortable positions as they watched a dark haired woman come up on stage to dance with elegance. it was a sight to see yet she didn't caught dazai's eyes.

albeit the loud music that blared, dazai finds his position calming at the moment. oda's favorite dancer had come up on stage and put on a good show which he finds endearing. it was relaxing to be in a club with your old friends and drink booze like nothing else was wrong in the world.

just then, dazai noticed an unfamiliar mop of [h.c] hair from the corner of his eyes as the [h.c] haired beauty went the backside of the stage for it was her turn.

the brunette, who thought without hesitation, had a feeling that woman was the one oda was talking about. his short description earlier fitted perfectly. beautiful locks of [h.l], [h.c] hair fitted her face perfectly and her legs looked agile and flexible. her looks were a bonus to her other good features- heck, her whole being was eye candy to dazai.

as soon as krystle was announced, the eye-catching woman strutted her hips to the beat of pony by ginuwine without a care of the hungry and lechearous eyes of men that watched her every move. she wore a white vested crop top and very short shorts that matched with black fishnet stockings. she was like a professional.

dazai narrowed his eyes slightly at the woman who now took her time to circle around the pole in the center of the stage, using her body to seduce everyone that watched. oda looked at the brunette with a small smirk, fully-knowing well what his intentions were.

"that's the one, huh?" he breathed.

oda hummed in response and he watched krystle spin around the pole from top to bottom. she may not be his favorite dancer, but she took his breath away. dazai wanted nothing more but go there and claim her already. he licked his lips as his eyes bore into the [h.c] haired beauty's soul. she was perfect.

oda only continued to stare at the back of dazai's head, only thinking of the outcome of what would happen if dazai should ever get his hands on the poor girl. taking another sip, he let out a low whistle as krystle did a split right in front of dazai, showing off some cleavage before she winked at him and stood off like he wasn't her business.

this action only fueled dazai's dark desires even more. how he wanted to take her and make her his, but he had to hold himself back. patience was key.

"i want her."

"are you sure? ango told me she's one of the most expensive ones around," oda looked at dazai bemused. "you outta' be prepared to spend a lot of money on her."

"if that's all it takes, then i will."

oda stared at him with a blank expression. "just so you know, she doesn't do private dances anymore. something about having enough being a hooker? not sure."

dazai's eyes darkened as he stared right back at oda's azure irises. "then i'll make her have one for me. she can't possibly resist."

"or can she?"

dazai pouted slightly, the darkness in his eyes disappearing as he put on another one of his façades. "odasaku! you can't be too sure, you know? i'll let you know, that i have had a lot of women fa-"

"you've already said that the couple times this night." oda cuts him off, making the brunette sulk before returning to krystle who have just finshed her performance and took a bow, turning her back and going backstage.

dazai grinned at oda before standing up and followed the [h.c] haired beauty. oda only sighed at this but quickly lose interest as his most standard favorite came to perform.

dazai went backstage to meet krystle personally before he was stopped by an orange haired male.

"excuse me sir, what's your business here?"

"i want to meet krystle."

"oh, she's a beauty," tanizaki smiled to himself. "for what reasons, mr..?"

"osamu, dazai osamu."

tanizaki stared at the bandaged male with shocked eyes before clearing his throat. he straightened his posture, gulping.

"g-good evening, mr. osamu!"

"no need for formalities. dazai is fine."

tanizaki nodded stiffly before asking, "ehem, i'll repeat.. dazai, for what reasons do you want to meet krystle for?"

"i want a private session with her." dazai replies bluntly, his honey-brown eyes that clouded with hidden lust and need bore into tanizaki's dialated hazel eyes.

"ehm.. i'm sorry, but i can't let you meet her. there are other dancers available for the night."

"i refuse, i only want her." his voice held a stern tone into it as he glared daggers at the now shaking male who only nodded meekly at his request before saying he'll have to wait a few minutes and exited through the door behind him.

dazai impatiently tapped his foot on the ground as he counted off the time and looked at the door with irritation pooling his eyes. before he could touch the handle of the door, it opened to let him see a familiar ginger haired male's head pop out. sapphire irises stared at him blankly before it turned to annoyance and disgust.

"oh..dazai. it's just you," chuuya spoke his name in an annoyed tone before opening the door to let himself out and face the taller male before him. "what do you want now, asshole?"

"i'm here to see krystle."

chuuya blinked once. twice, before snickering, covering his mouth with both hands to stifle his snort. "pft--! a-are you serious? you sure you're not here to meet me?" he showed a small smirk of mockery, hand on his hips as he stared with half-lidded eyes at the bandaged male.

dazai chuckled lowly. "please, if i were here to see you i would've slapped myself silly and think about how much i'd regret it."

"or would you?"

dazai showed him an all too familiar grin which sent a chill down chuuya's spine. "quit your horseplay chuuya, i know your ways."

chuuya clicked his tongue. "and to think i can make fun of you."

"what can i say? you're easy to read." he showed a teasing smile, only agitating the short ginger even further.

"ergh, asshole. to even think that.." he muttered under his breathe before shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at dazai, arms crossed against his chest.

"but for real, are you serious?"

"mhm. would i lie to meet such ethereal beauty?"

"ugh, you make me sick," chuuya stuck out his tongue before continuing. "why though?"

"i want a private session with krystle. do i have to repeat myself again? didn't that carrot head tell you?" dazai referred to tanizaki. he must've only told chuuya to meet him outside. "you mean tanizaki?" chuuya shook his head. "no. but anyways, i can't help you with that you horny bastard. plus, why would you think i'd ever let you touch one of my dancers?"

"i can pay them and if i'm satisfied enough i might just pay you finely as well."

"bullshit."

"what, you think i'd lie when striking a deal?"

chuuya stared at dazai with annoyance, "i've known you long enough to see through your foul play."

"just let me see krystle."

chuuya let out a heavy sigh. "do you ever listen? [name] doesn't do private dances. end of story."

dazai was silent for a moment before digging his hand through his black trench coat, pulling out a stacked brown envelope filled with thousands of yen. he handed it to chuuya who stared at it judgingly, clearly not believing him.

dazai rolled his eyes. "just take the damn envelope,"

chuuya snatched it rather aggressively before he opened it and going through it quickly. his eyes widened a fraction before he looked at dazai bewildered.

"what do you even do, breathe money for a living?"

"i work for it, actually."

"wow, you can actually work?" chuuya mocked before closing his eyes.

"fine, i'll see what i can do. but if she disagrees, i can't do shit for you then."

dazai merely nodded before chuuya walked off. "oh, that money's for krystle by the way!"

"don't need to remind me, asshole!" he heard chuuya holler back.

minutes later he heard distant voices arguing through the door that blocked him from the dressing rooms of the dancers. "look, i don't care alright?! why couldn't you get him to leave??"

"he's a persistent asshole," he heard the annoyed tone of chuuya's voice answer. "he won't leave until he gets what he wants."

he heard the other voice groan before the door was opened harshly in front of him. there stood [name] who wore an angry expression on her pale face.

"so, were you the one who kept requesting to see me?"

"that's right."

she grumbled before she turned to chuuya with a look that screamed 'i hate you.' chuuya only snickered at this.

"listen, i don't think you've heard, but i don't do private dances alright? so you can turn back and play with the other girls." she sassed.

"i'll pay you finely for at least a few minutes, [name]."

"how'd you know my name?" she snapped.

dazai nudged with his head at chuuya who was beside [name]. before [name] could speak, chuuya fled off somewhere else.

"fuck.." she cursed. she looked at the wad of cash she had received from chuuya which came from dazai and bit her lip.

"..alright. one song and that's it okay?"

"fine with me."

she nodded and stuffed the envelope on her garter belt. she beckoned dazai to follow her, leading him to a covered and secluded area, holding up the curtain for him. he went in and sat on the big arm chair that sat in the center of the room.

[name] walked to the stereo that sat still on the high table next to the entrace of the curtain and plugged in her phone for the music. she turned to dazai.

"what's your name?"

"dazai osamu," he replies, crossing his legs. "why?"

"i have one rule to set up and i needed your name so i can file a report if you break it."

dazai stared at her with amusement. "oh really?"

"mhm. my rule is that you are not allowed to touch me. simple as that."

dazai gripped on the comfortable armchair. no touching? it's going to be a hard time for him to hold himself back.

finally picking a song, she pressed play and heard neighbours know my name by trey songz blare slow and catchy beat, setting her phone down and walking to dazai and spreading his crossed legs apart and straddled him. "you know the rules?" she pulled at his black neck tie to pull his face closer to hers.

"of course."

dazai took this time to observe her facial features. perfect face complexion. soft and smooth skin, beautiful plump lips and structured nose. not his to touch.

she pulled away and started off slow, her hips swaying as she dropped to her knees, her hands on his thighs as she looked up between his legs, biting her lip and turned around as she started low, shaking her ass in the most perfect and sexual way she could.

she worked her way up still shaking it like a goddess her [h.l] [h.c] hair still draped over her shoulders bouncing perfectly every time she moved her body to shake it more.

dazai's hand positioned at the arms of the chair as he bit his lip in sight of this woman. she had a high sex appeal and he fancied her over any other dancer here.

she then got up and moved closer with her back still to him as she hovered just about his lap and then started to move her hips and shake her ass again.

dazai started to feel her ass ever so lightly brushing against his half-hard groin. as much as he wanted to deny being hard because of her, he just couldn't. it got even harder for him not to take her then and there.

she faced him and placed her hands on his shoulders, grinding him softly while still moving her body with fluid motions to the beat. she placed one hand on his hair and pulled it, a small smirk on her face.

dazai's neck craned upwards and he felt her long fingernails trail up ever so slightly on his bandaged neck, giving him a tickling sensation. he had to exert self control or else he wouldn't have held himself back.

pulling away again, she turned and her back was facing him and bent down, showing dazai a peek of her black lacey panties underneath her shorts. dazai could feel blood rushing south.

the song ended too soon and she stood up, her posture straight and walked over to the stereo to unplug her phone. dazai stared at her mesmerized before speaking.

"come home with me."

"no."

"why not?"

"i'm not a fucking sex toy who'll suck your dick for a few thousand yen." she crossed her arms against her chest.

"i'm not offering you money, my dear."

"really? then what's in it for me?"

"think i won't make you enjoy it?"

she looked at him with irritation building up. "it's not like i'm telling you that you won't. i'm sure you will," she frowned. "but no, i have my own home to get to and i'm pretty sure you do as well."

"just think about it [name], i'll make you change your mind."

"yeah, sure," she rolled her eyes.

"i have to get going. goodbye, dazai."

dazai couldn't understand. why does she refuse? she was a stubborn one for sure.

he doesn't mind jacking off but it didn't feel quite right for him. groaning loudly, he looked up and closed his eyes, feeling the hot water run down his scarred body. he sighed in content before turning it off and stepping out the bathtub, grabbing a towel and rubbing on his wet brown locks.

he glanced at his phone that was on the sink and took it, going through his contacts and sending a message to his business partner.

'we're going back tomorrow.'

#dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai fic #oh yah this is like #a sugar daddy au #lol #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #jun'ichirō tanizaki #bungou stray dogs x reader #desperado

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sapphicsaro · 5 years

Text

anya || (post) winter soldier

hello all. here is another edition to the “anya” series i’m writing. this part takes place immediately after winter soldier and includes natasha’s pregnancy. i hope you like it. its a long one!

(here’s a link to the civil war chapter, if you��missed it too! https://rechutexx.tumblr.com/post/186134602680/anya-civil-war)

thank you to @catching-vibes-and-stars and @jackxangelica for beta reading!

---

“Mister Barton, you have a message from Miss. Romanoff, shall I read it to you?”

Clint continued his practice, eyes locked on the swinging target in front of him. “Sure, JARVIS.”

“Alright. From Miss Romanoff at 2:37pm: ‘She’s already feeling excited. He’s only usually seen entertaining’. End of message. I’m sorry sir, I am not sure who she may be referencing for you.”

His arrow released from his quiver. Bullseye.

“Don’t worry, JARVIS, I understand it. Thank you.”

“No problem, sir. Shall I turn your music back on?”

Clint placed the remaining arrows back into his quiver, and shook his head, “No, I believe I have to start packing up.”

“Alright sir.”

Clint folded his bow up, and placed it, along with his quiver, back into its case.

She was speaking in code like she always did when she needed to be conspicuous.

Safehouse.

She had been gone with Steve for a few weeks, as had become the routine. Strike Team Delta disbanded with the introduction of the Avengers, so now the two spies were free to work with any of the other members. Fury sought out Natasha, knowing she was ready for more missions, unlike Clint, who needed some time to recover from the Battle of NY. Fury asked Nat if she would keep Steve busy and give him something to help him adjust to contemporary society.

So, for the past two years, she had her new partner and was in and out of their home in the tower (which was a move for them that Stark had insisted they make).

But, he was equally as busy as her. Just not with her anymore.

SHIELD may have been utilizing him less, but Stark had found “Hawkeye” more useful for his own missions. Yeah, maybe they weren’t as eventful as the shootouts he would typically have at SHIELD, but he enjoyed the work just the same.

Stark got him home at a reasonable time and he would be in bed, hearing aids out, hours before Natasha would stumble in, kick off her boots and flop onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantaneously.

The two would eat breakfast together, swap stories, and spend a few more hours together before they would both hit the road again.

But she sent the message: safe house.

This was their secret (one of many) and they were the only ones who knew what this meant. The steps to follow were simple:

Text is sent.

Leave wherever you are as quickly as possible.

Don’t speak to anyone.

Send Fury an “x” (he would know what that meant)

Grab a file with new identities and get to the airport.

Step one was done. Time to go.

It took him six minutes to get upstairs, grab the necessities and toss them in their suitcase.

No weapons; those were at the house.

Grab their keepsake boxes.

Toss some clothes in.

Get the new passports.

Get out.

He was used to this. Although the safe house text was rare, he and Natasha were spies. Having to flee and get out quickly was second nature to him.

Clint put on his jacket and grabbed the new passports, hello Elise and Mark. Ugh, Mark? Of all names it had to be-

“Going on vacay, Birdie?”

Tony was leaning against his front door, which in his hurry, Clint must have left open. “Uh, yeah, SHIELD called. They-”

“No they didn’t.”

Fuck.

Tony smirked at Clint, walking into the spies’ home and heading into their kitchen. He opened their fridge, giving it the once over, “Didn’t you hear the news? SHIELD is done-so.”

What.

Clint froze, letting his bag slip slowly down his shoulder, “What are you talking about?”

Tony stuck his head out of the fridge, before grabbing a beer from it. “Oh yeah, it’s brutal. Steve just sent me a message. More like a warning, actually. Apparently a bunch of you were HYDRA. Don’t know which of you to trust.”

Clint couldn’t move, there was too much to process. If what Tony was saying was really true, that meant Natasha was out there fighting against people they thought were on their side. And now Tony thinks that he is HYDRA?

Fuck this. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You think I’m HYDRA?”

“Hmm, could be. You never know, you two lovers are very hush hush.” Tony gulped at the beer in his hands, “This is terrible. What is this?”

“I’m not HYDRA.”

Tony chuckled, “Wow, I feel much better. Thank you, Barton.”

He wasn’t dealing with this.

“I have to go.”

“What if I won’t let you?” Tony eyed him up.

“You can’t.”

Tony nodded, “Interesting.”

Clint’s eyes never left Tony’s. If he had to, he could overpower Stark, right here, right now. He’s got no suit and Clint is way more experienced and trained. But, neither of them moved. Instead, they remained silent for a moment, two men, ready for a fight in a kitchen.

“Tell me where you’re going, Merida. Seems rather odd that Steve send me that message and I spot you about to flee the tower. You know, I thought we were becoming friends too. But all that time you were just spying on me. Huh.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh no?” Tony’s beer was empty now. He placed it gently on the counter, spinning it a few times, eyes focused on the bottle. “Then why can’t you tell me where you are going?”

Clint was stuck. Tell Tony the truth? Risk the safe house. Lie to Tony? Risk everyone thinking he’s HYDRA. Fuck.

“Natasha texted me. She needed to talk. We’re are going away together.”

Tony pursed his lips, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “And I’m supposed to just believe you?”

Clint tries to respond, but he pauses. He gives a second.

“Yes.” Tony looks up, analyzing Clint’s expression as if he was one of his silly little equations.

Fuck this. Fuck Tony.

“Tony, look. I’m telling the truth, if you don’t want to believe me, that’s your problem. Because you just informed me that the place I’ve worked at, for a large portion of my life, mind you, turned out to just be one huge lie. And I brought Natasha there too; I made her leave her life for SHIELD. And now, we lost everything. She texted me. No, she didn’t tell me what happened, she just texted that she needs me; she asked me to go to her. So I’m doing that. Because I love her. And if you want to try and stop me from getting to her, you’re a damned fool.”

Tony stared the archer down once more, but this time, a small grin crept up on his face. He held his hands up as a sign of defeat and headed back toward the front door. “Fine. Go to your girlfriend. But, if I find out you lied to me, I’ll be really upset, Katniss.”

————

Fuck airports. Fuck planes. Fuck old men who can’t keep their mouth shut.

Clint hated planes. Not the actual flying or any of that, but: the people. Dear god, how he hated the people.

He missed the jets that Tasha and him would fly around. They were private; always just the two of them and whatever music she felt like playing that flight.

Public planes were dirty and overcrowded. And when you needed a last minute flight, you got stuck with the worst of the worst. Clint had to sit between a 90 year old man who clearly had been drinking while being on medication, and a middle aged woman who continuously claimed that he had been touching her and eyeing her up.

Clint wanted to put an arrow through his eye.

But the flight was over, he landed safely in Missouri, and he practically ran off the plane.

A 30-minute cab ride led him to the familiar, run-down storage unit where his baby was kept.

His truck. Oh man. For a man friends with Stark, you’d think an old, beat up pickup truck wouldn’t please him at all. But the memories Clint had in his truck were worth more than a thousand of Stark’s fancy, self-driving shits.

Clint dug through his bag, pulling out the keys, and made the familiar route home.

Home?

No, home was supposed to be their apartment in the city, not this “safe house”. But somehow the farm house felt more like his home than the sleek two bedroom in the Avengers tower.

No, this farm house was domestic, intimate. Natasha and him were not spies here; this was where they went to hide, to be “normal”.

Nat was always ‘Tasha’ here.

Here, she wore flannel shirts and baggy sweaters. She would cook food from the market and eat dinner at a real dining room table. She would hum around the house, and sometimes Clint would hear her sing softly when she thought she was alone. At the safe house, she was softer.

Here, she could still kill you in the blink of an eye, but you would die with a record crackling Fleetwood Mac in the background.

But they were rarely here; only when they had a bad mission. Fury would send them on a “mandatory vacation” for anywhere from a week to two months and they always ended up here. They never even discussed it.

So D.C. must have really kicked her ass if Natasha willingly decided to come here.

The drive back was easy, with little to no cars on the road. And when he got closer to the house, all the cars disappeared except for his. Natasha must have left her CD in the player because Clint was stuck listening to Dvorak’s Ninth World Symphony on a loop as the radio stopped working forever ago.

He pulled up; it was getting dark now. He could see a single light on inside. She was here.

He parked, gathered his bags and headed inside. The downstairs was quiet and clean, indicating that she had barely been down here. Her shoes lay sprawled next to the door, her jacket thrown over the railing. She was upset.

Clint slid his boots off, locked the door and made his way up the stairs. He saw the light on at the end of the hall and heard the soft tunes of Ella Fitzgerald playing on the record. “Tasha?”

No answer. Clint got to the bedroom door and slowly opened it to see her curled up on the bed, eyes watery. Shit.

She looked at him, not moving, letting her eyes tell the story.

He dropped his bag by the door and took his jacket off before sliding into the bed with her and enveloping her in his arms. She stayed silent. He did, too.

He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek with his one hand as the other was tangled in her hair. She laid against his chest, arms curled near her face. She locked her legs in his and he kissed her head, breathing her in.

She rarely cried in front of him. She never cried in front of anyone else. Her tears stopped, but he knew that she must have been crying before he got here. The rare times he did see tears fall, they wouldn’t talk about it. Instead, he would silently hold her and she would let him. It was the dance of two people who needed comfort but were too stubborn to admit it.

They laid as the record kept spinning; now Dream a Little Dream of Me was ending and Natasha started to shift in his arms, indicating that she was going to sit up.

“It’s over.”

Her voice was rough, and it may have sounded normal to any other person, but this was his Tasha and he could recognize the pain.

“I heard.”

She shook her head, brows furrowed, but eyes starting too well slightly with tears. “This entire time, Clint. Who knew?”

Clint shrugged, sitting up across from her, “We didn’t.”

Natasha let out a small laugh. It wasn’t a genuine one. “Two highly trained spies couldn’t even figure out we were being double crossed.”

Clint smiled at her, bringing his knees up and folding his arms around them, linking his hands together. “I guess we’re shit, then.”

Natasha finally took her eyes off the wall next to her and looked at Clint, a small smile coming across her face. “Yeah, we suck.”

He didn’t want to prod, but there was a burning sensation that wanted her to tell him everything. He opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped. “I released everything.”

Confusion hit Clint like a ton of bricks, “Released what?”

“All of SHIELD’s secrets. And HYDRA’s technically. Everything. I released them. Now the world knows everything about me.”

Clint slowly nodded his head, trying to process everything she was saying. “That bad, huh?”

“They wanted to arrest me. I told them to fuck off.”

Clint chuckled, “I would expect nothing less.”

He had to take this conversation slow. He knew Natasha better than anyone else did. She was not a revealing person by nature, so if she was going to tell him anything, he had to keep his questions minimal and wait for her to feel ready to open up.

“Are you okay?” was what he deemed appropriate.

She sat for a moment, letting her eyes fall away from him. A short pause later, she looked back up, “No.”

Clint nodded, and stayed silent. This was different from any other time. Usually she would mask the situation, and he would follow along, pretending everything was fine until it actually was.

“We’re safe here. This is still off records. That’s why-” she let out a heavy sigh. “The public knows the person I was before. They’re not going to see me as the person I’ve worked so hard to become. The one who fought on the side of good. And now, with HYDRA, was I ever even on the right side?” She shook her head, “I need to hide out here; just for a bit. I need time for them to cool off so they don’t want to kill me.”

“Okay. We can do that.” Clint looked at her, giving her a half-smile. “It’s like another vacation.”

Natasha chuckled, “Yeah. I supposed so.”

Clint laid back down, a held out his hand, “C’mere.” She placed her hand in his, letting Clint pull her into him again. This time, she ran her hands all over his chest. Clint smiled, and held her tightly, placing little kisses on the top of her head. He reached over, clicking off the light as her breathing got heavier. “G’night, Tasha.”

————

When she woke up, the sun shined brightly through the window, glistening over Clint’s sleeping face. She was still comfortably against his chest, but she felt stiff and groggy.

She felt nauseous; crying for as long as she did yesterday (although no one saw her) would do that to you. She carefully slid out of his arms, as to not wake him, although he was the heaviest sleeper, hearing aids in or out.

She tiptoed to the bathroom, taking a glance in the mirror as she passed it. God, she looked terrible. The bags under her eyes highlighted the sleep she’d lost over the past weeks.

Her stomach hurt. Again.

All of the stress gave her horrendous stomach aches. She had lost everything she ever knew in the past weeks. Luckily, Steve was there for her, but the recent discoveries were still hard on her and it made her ill to think about where she would go from here.

Oh no.

She made it to the toilet before throwing up. Fuck. These stress aches were killing her.

“You okay?” Clint asked, standing in the door frame while rubbing his eyes from exhaustion.

Natasha stayed on the ground, head against the wall; the nausea was still there. “It’s just stress.”

“Stress?” He raised a brow at her, a slight look of confusion across his face, “Since when have you thrown up from stress?”

Natasha looked up at him, he wasn’t wrong.

The two locked eyes as if something was said, but neither spoke a word. If either of them asked the obvious, Natasha would explode. This was not an option.

Nope. Not possible. There was no way.

Clint cleared his throat, “Um, so how long as this, uh, stress sickness been happening?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh.” He nodded, acting as if this was a conversation about what they were having for breakfast and not a literal human baby.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

“Is there a chance you’re-“

“Clint Barton, please do not finish that question.”

There would be no “p” word here.

But let’s just say he did ask. Yeah, they did have sex right before they left, but they always did. Besides, she was sterile. Nothing worked down there. Except for the extremely rare moments she would randomly bleed down there, the Red Room took away all chances of a “p” word happening. She even went undercover once to a doctor in the middle of Iowa to confirm her diagnosis. The doctor was mystified by what she saw, and her conclusion was that she was sterile. Natasha snuck out the building before the doctor could see her again.

“Okay.” He stayed against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes never leaving her.

Natasha shook her head, still leaning it against the wall as she tried to control her nausea. “Clint, I’ve told you, it’s not possible for me to have a child.”

“I know. I’m just thinking that this is like what happens in the movies, ya know? The girl is all sick and then she pees on a stick and then-”

“Clint, I love you, but please shut up or I’ll puke again.”

“Sorry.”

Clint moved away from the doorframe, instead opting to sit atop the corner of the counter near Natasha. As she sat still, he kicked his feet, back and forth, back and forth-

Oh no.

It happened again. This time she threw up hard and it hurt her throat. Clint jumped off the counter, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. He quickly knelt by her side, “Here, here.”

Natasha took small sips from the glass as Clint rubbed circles on the small of her back. “Fuck,” she coughed out. “I’m gonna have to piss on a stick.”

———

Clint and Natasha were, undoubtedly, two of the toughest people out there. Clint has put more arrows in people than he has targets, and Natasha could kill a man with just her thighs. They’ve seen death, caused death, and have been at death’s door themselves. They’ve been shot, stabbed, bruised, tortured, you name it.

And yet, the two people who have seen the most gruesome ways to die, were scared of a piece of plastic.

The trip to the store was awkward. Neither said a word; Clint just drove all the way into town, got inside the store with Natasha, bought the stick (well, a few), and got back in the car to head home. The cashier smiled at the two and gave a small thumbs up to Clint as Natasha signed the receipt.

Clint didn’t know how to feel. A baby was never an option for them. He didn’t really care though; he was happy with her. And yeah, he loved kids, but he liked the fun parts about them, not the responsibility of having a child. He was the cool uncle who shot bow and arrows and taught little kids archery, not a father.

Could he even see Natasha having a baby?

Meanwhile, Natasha was out of it. Her mind was far away from the place she actually sat in their bedroom. No, she was trying to imagine one line, clear as day, on each of the three sticks. A negative would mean that they could laugh at the absurdity of the day, make dinner, fuck, and forget they even thought she could be pregnant. One line meant she would go back in the field soon. One line meant her whole world didn’t fall apart. Again.

Fuck three minutes feels like a lifetime.

Clint was the first to break the two-hour long silence, “What if-“

“It’ll be negative.”

“But what if-”

“Clint.”

“Okay.”

Back to the silence they went as they waited for the timer to go off. When it did, they both stood up, but Natasha pushed ahead of Clint to gather the tests. Clint sat back down, waiting for her to come back.

Natasha walked back to the bed, three sticks still in her hand.

“Are you...”

“I didn’t look.”

“Oh.”

Her knuckles were turning white with how tightly she held onto them. “Clint, I can’t do this.”

“I’ll look for you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She took her eyes off the tests and shifted her focus to him, “I can’t be a mother. I’m not meant for that.” Instead of responding, Clint just nodded his head slowly. “I’m a murderer. We both are. We are not cut out for this.”

“You’re right.”

“So if- and it’s a big if- if they are positive, we cannot keep this child.”

“Understood.”

Natasha nodded and then flipped the sticks over.

Two lines, two lines, and a plus.

“Son of a bitch.” She threw her head back, letting her body flop on the bed while Clint stayed frozen, eyes locked on the tests.

“So you’re- wow.”

Natasha tilted her head towards him, “Are you happy about this?”

Uh oh. Clint didn’t know what to say. On one hand he wanted to say, no we can’t do this. But, Natasha just beat the odds, and this baby seemed like a miracle. No, not a miracle. Natasha doesn’t want the baby. It’s her choice.

Natasha had fully sat up at this point, staring Clint down as he stayed locked on the tests, deep in thought. “Clint, talk to me. I can’t hear you think.”

Clint shook his head, keeping it down, “I have a lot of thoughts…I just- I just don’t know. I don’t how I feel.”

Natasha placed a hand gently on his arm, “Talk to me.”

He moved his focus to her, her expression was soft as her hand stayed on his forearm. Clint placed his hand on top of hers and took a deep breath, “I…I feel conflicted. I know we are not meant for this, trust me, it’s almost impossible to picture us taking care of a child for even an hour, let alone forever. But there’s this part of me that’s just like: wow, we thought this was impossible and somehow this baby is there. It’s stupid, I’m sorry, I know we can’t keep a baby, it’s just we never got to even think about the possibility of this happening before.”

“It’s not stupid.” She began chewing at her lip, a nervous habit he noticed she had. “I feel similar.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean, I’ve had it in my mind that I could never have a child since my graduation ceremony. And now I’m looking at three things telling me otherwise? And I’m rushing to say we can’t do this and we are spies and not meant for this, but everything is changing and I don’t know how to feel.”

Her eyes welled with tears and Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean her head against him. “Hey, it’s okay, Tasha.”

“No. No it’s not.” She began to cry, and hard. Clint rubbed circles across her skin, trying to soothe her as she let tears roll onto his shirt. “Why is there a part of me that wants this?”

What.

Of all things he thought she might say, Clint did not expect this. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and gave her a tight squeeze, “So, what if we did?”

Natasha lifted her head off of him, wiping her cheeks, “What?”

“Let’s talk about this, for real. We have two options: keep or don’t. If you decide not to, then I take you to the doctors, we forget this happened, come back home and that’s the end of it. If you decided to keep it, then we hide out here for the pregnancy, have a baby and then-”

“And then what, Clint? Spend our lives hiding a human child from the public? I don’t know if you remember this, but the public isn’t too happy with me right now and I’m sure a lot of people would love to get their hands on the child of Black Widow and Hawkeye.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen.”

“How would we stay hidden for months without anyone needing us or calling us?”

“SHIELD is gone, the Avengers are fine, we have time. We tell the others we have our own mission and that we’ll be hard to reach.”

“And when it’s born? What do we do then?”

Clint shrugged, “We raise it. We can stay here, off the radar, or we go back to Avenger’s Tower and-”

“If we have a baby, we are not raising it in the tower.”

“Okay.”

The silence returned to the room, and both of them adverted looking at the other. They sat like this, on the bed, deep in thought for what felt like hours before Natasha turned to Clint, “We should call the team.”

———

Telling the Avengers that they had their own “mission” they were going on was challenging because each person asked too many god damn questions. Luckily, Natasha and Clint were trained spies; lying was easy. However, dealing with Tony Stark was not.

He asked for check-ins, calls every week, a secret way to contact them, the whole nine yards, but neither spy budged. Natasha calmly told him that they were going to be out of service for a while and to please clean out our fridge in the apartment, the food will rot.

Clint and Natasha didn’t talk about the baby again. In fact the next time the pregnancy was even acknowledged was three weeks later.

Natasha woke up in a pool of sweat, pain accumulating in her abdomen. Clint’s aids were out, so she lightly shook him awake. “Clint.”

Clint jumped up, “Wha-what?”

“Something’s wrong.”

Clint flicked on the light, and scrambled to her side of the bed, kneeling down next to her. “What’s happening, are you okay?”

Natasha sat up slowly, “It’s my left side.”

Clint ran to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. He went back to her side, running the washcloth along her face, trying to cool her down. “Are you bleeding?”

Natasha shook her head, “No.”

“Okay.” He continued to wipe the cloth around her face, traveling down to her chest. She tried to slow down her breathing to help ease the pain as the cool water helped relieve her overheating body.

She groaned once more, this time gripping his arm tightly. He used his other hand to rub her back. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She let out a small whimper as pain ran through her again, “Yes.”

“Okay.” Clint stood up and grabbed a duffle bag, piling in a new outfit for her and some of their essentials. Natasha slowly moved, placing her feet on the ground.

She groaned once more, “Fuck.”

Clint zipped up the bag and came back to her, “Can you walk?”

“If you help me.”

He leant down, and she threw her arm over his shoulder. He grabbed the bag with the other hand and slowly went down the stairs. She continuously groaned each step they took down. “Tasha, I can carry you.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded, and he picked her bridal style. He carried her all way to the car and got her in the passenger seat before climbing into the truck himself and driving away.

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t scared. Sure, they haven’t talked about the baby since they kind of decided to keep it, but he was getting more attached to the bump that was forming. And he thinks she was too. Sometimes when he would look over at her, she would have a hand resting on the bump, her thumb rubbing it slowly.

He drove as careful and quickly as possible, and Natasha had flicked on the CD player to cover the sound of her moans. When they arrived, she stayed in the car while Clint ran in, returning with a nurse and a wheelchair. He lifted her out and gently placed her in the wheelchair as the nurse raced inside with her.

Clint almost forgot their undercover identities as he checked her in, but when he finished, Mark was escorted to his wife, Elise’s, room.

When he got there, he passed the nurse who was exiting the room and stared at Natasha, laid back in the bed. “I hate the name Elise.”

Clint chuckled and sat in the chair next to her bed, grabbing her hand. “Me too.”

A nurse arrived with an ultrasound, and one exam later confirmed she was pregnant, and still pregnant. However, the nurse was perplexed by the exam and called in an OBGYN to take a closer look. Natasha knew the conversation that was about to happen and wanted to launch herself out of the room, but she still needed an answer as to what was causing the pain.

Natasha watched Clint throughout their time there, his eyes bouncing back from her face to the uncovered baby bump. He would deny that he was looking at it, but she knew he was. She couldn’t lie, she had grown more attached to the baby as well. The two of them were terrible at communicating their emotions, but if they were a “normal” couple (like Elise and Mark) they would be reading baby books and designing a nursery by now.

Right now, they were just at ease with the idea of a baby. They hadn’t quite grasped the reality of the situation yet, and especially not enough to plan for the baby to arrive. Granted, they had some time. But this was probably a wake up call for them to start some conversations.

Three hours later, they were settled back at home in bed, headed back to sleep. The doctor concluded that the pain was from her uterus stretching, but because of her “unique” situation down there (when he said unique, Natasha almost punched him in the throat), her pain was going to be more extreme. He gave her a prescription for painkillers approved for pregnant women and sent them on their way home.

Now they were back in their bed, Clint behind Natasha arms wrapped around her, hands landing on her bump. She placed her hands on top of his, scooting back to get closer to him.

Eyes closed, he kisses her hair, “G’night Tasha.”

———

Three months went by and Natasha’s baby bump grew larger to the point where her only outfits consisted of leggings and an oversized sweater. Since the hospital incident, Clint and her made some progress on getting ready for their child. He had emptied one of the upstairs bedrooms (not Kate’s though, that room still remained down the hall), and started to build the nursery. Natasha would stop by it sometimes, resting against the door frame, watching him build.

The first thing he finished was a rocking chair for Natasha. When it was done, he didn’t show it off to her. Instead she noticed it the next morning and ran her hands over it, noticing how well done it was. She had almost teared up when she saw his personalization of it with a “⧗” engraved on the top, but she held her ground.

One weekend, they decided to paint the room. Clint let Natasha pick out the color and she settled with a pale yellow, something Clint was surprised by.

“It’ll look nice in the sunlight with those windows in there,” she had told him.

And she was right.

Even with all the progress they were making, their actuals conversations about the baby were limited. No names were picked out, no talks about parenting, nothing. Natasha didn’t speak to Clint or anyone else about her growing belly. She would read parenting books by herself, and he would watch her as he would read some of his own, but they didn’t discuss it.

Some people would be worried, but Clint knew that Natasha was never going to change into the stereotypical mother that some thought every woman should be like. Instead, she was reserved and kept her feelings to herself, but he knew she would love this baby just the same, if not more.

Clint could tell that she was still apprehensive about having a baby. She had spent five months at the farmhouse so far, the longest they had ever stayed before, and there was still a lot of time left for them here. He did worry that Natasha wasn’t happy here, as she was used to the high intensity, fast-paced life of a spy, but she seemed good for now. The medication helped with pain, and Elise would go to the doctor’s for her monthly checkups with Mark.

At one of the earlier checkups, they got to hear their child’s heartbeat. Natasha didn’t know how to react. Clint started wide-eyed at the screen, trying to hide a smile from forming on his face. Natasha listened intently to the “drum beat” of her child’s heart; holy shit.

At last month’s checkup, the baby started to look more like a real baby. They gave her and Clint each a sonogram to take home. Both of them had it on them at all times, sometimes taking it out just to see their baby one more time.

Natasha was mystified. Six months ago, she thought this was impossible. She thought that she could never conceive a child, but now there was a baby in her, growing day by day.

And they had a heartbeat.

It was a little scary. It reminded her that this was real; that in a few months Clint and her would have a child. She knew in her heart that Clint would be a great father, but she didn’t know how she would be as a mother. Truthfully, she wanted this baby now, but she was also ready to go back to work.

Her whole life she spent fighting, and this “vacation” her and Clint were on was the longest she has ever had to just do nothing. She had new pains everyday, and yes, the medication helped but the feeling of being pregnant and carrying around a baby inside her did not feel like the “miracle” that other women had said it was.

She felt like a different person sometimes. This “Elise” identity felt like it crept into her own and had brainwashed her into becoming more domestic. The old Natasha wouldn’t have taken this break. The old Natasha wouldn’t be buying a stuffed animal in the town’s shop.

It wasn’t the baby that changed her though. It was the fall of SHIELD.

Before her and Steve’s mission to D.C., she felt like herself. She had been working at SHIELD ever since Clint had brought her in all those years ago, and they became the best at the agency. Their team was the most trusted by Fury. They had a success rate of 99 (they don’t talk about the mission in Belize where all hell broke loose and they needed backup).

So when she found out that HYDRA had infiltrated them, she felt lost. She had a purpose before; to fight on the good side and clean out her ledger. But, knowing that HYDRA had been there the whole time, she felt that all her hard work had been invalidated. She was still the same “bad” person she was before.

And yes, her intentions of being a good person were still there, but it felt wrong. Sure, the Avengers were a thing, and she had fought with them to save the world, but she wasn’t ready to go back. Not after the public had gained access to all her dirty secrets.

The timing of this baby seemed too convenient. She felt lost, needing something to do after D.C. and all of a sudden she was miraculously pregnant? ерунда. (Bullshit)

Maybe it wasn’t the best way to express it, but it felt like this baby was her next mission. Strike Team Delta was back, and better than ever. Except one of the members was heavily pregnant, and the other was obsessively building baby furniture. But here they were, the two best spies, in a Missouri farmhouse, reading baby books and buying stuffed animals.

She wouldn’t admit it, but she wanted this baby.

Yes, she would hesitate if you asked her, but that’s because she was scared to bring a baby into a world where their parents fought alien monsters and consistently were in shootouts. But she was filled with an overwhelming sense of needing to protect this child, and they weren’t even born yet. Some might not call that love, per-say, but keep in mind she was a trained assassin who grew up in the Red Room in Russia. She would never be the cutesy mom who wore proper maternity clothes and made scrapbooks.

However, she was going to be the mother who would never allow her child to go through what she and Clint went through. She would protect this child until the day she died. Maybe she wouldn’t be going to the school’s bake sale or see the play, but she would be there when her child cried, and she would make damn sure that her child was well taken care of.

Natasha had fallen asleep on the couch reading another maternity book while Clint was upstairs in the baby’s room, continuing to work on the crib when there was a knock at the door.

Nobody ever came to this house.

Clint jumped up, and instinctively ran to the bedroom to grab his gun. He slowly made his way down the stairs and peeked into the living room, spotting Natasha in the distance, still fast asleep.

There was another knock.

Clint stood frozen, gun aimed at the front door while he watched the doorknob twist and turn. Someone was trying to break in. They picked the wrong house. Clint was ready to fire, no matter what; no one was going to lay a hand on his wife or their unborn child.

The knob twisted harder, until the sound of keys were heard and the door clicked unlocked. Clint took a deep breath, and the door was thrown open.

Fury.

“Hello to you too, Barton.”

“Fury? What the hell-”

“I’m sorry, my two best agents disappear for five months and you expect me to not know you’re here? Reminder that I’m the one who is keeping this house off everyone’s radar. Even after your wife published everything out there.” At this point, he had stepped into the house, walking right into the kitchen and looking around as if he had misplaced something. “Where is Natasha?”

Clint had unloaded his gun, putting the safety back on and placing it down. “She’s asleep on the couch. But I wouldn’t bother her.”

“I have to talk to you both. She can wake up.”

“Sir, I really wouldn’t-”

Fury had spotted her before Clint could finish. There she was, his best spy, asleep and clearly pregnant with a baby book on her lap. “You better tell me that’s fake and you’re really committing to being undercover.”

Clint cleared his throat and crossed his arms, “It’s real.”

Fury couldn’t take his eyes off of her, “How? I thought-”

“We don’t know. We just got lucky, I suppose.”

Some would think that this was a poor reaction to finding out someone was pregnant, but Fury face seemed softer than usual, even though it was definitely not overjoyed.

When Natasha first came to SHIELD, Fury didn’t trust her. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her until she proved her loyalty to him. Within her first year, she had completed every mission perfectly and could even get the job done in less time than any of the other spies. She was good. Fury liked her. She didn’t showcase emotions, just worked and did it well. Barton and her became his best team. He could trust them with the hard missions and they accepted the challenge gladly.

After the many years they worked together, Fury had forgotten he once despised the young redhead. He had grown to care for her, almost like she was a daughter to him.

So, when she started dating Barton, he wanted to kill the archer. He had indeed threatened him, stating that if Clint ever hurt her, he would kill him and no one would ever find his body. Luckily, the two seemed happy together and the relationship only helped their work instead of hindering it. When he proposed, the only ones who knew were himself, Phil, and Maria. The same three were the only ones allowed to know about their marriage as well, until the Avengers, of course.

And now, they were having a baby. Fury didn’t know what to say. Was he upset? No. Was he happy? Maybe?

“Are you both quitting?” He turned away from Natasha, now staring Clint down.

“SHIELD is gone, sir.”

“The Avengers aren’t.”

Clint nodded his head in acknowledgment, “We know.”

Fury chuckled, “And who is supposed to inform them that two of their members quit and decided to live Little House on the Prairie style, forgetting everything about their old lives?”

“We aren’t quitting, sir.”

Fury raised his voice, slightly, “Well, it sure seems-”

Clint shushed him, pointing towards Natasha. He headed toward the back porch and Fury followed suit. Clint leaned against the railing, while Fury took a seat on one of the wicker chairs.

“We aren’t quitting, sir.”

“How?”

Clint folded his arms in front of his chest, “What do you mean ‘how’? Natasha has three to four more months before she gives birth and then we’ll take some time with our child before Natasha goes back to New York and I stay here with the baby.”

“When do you come back to New York, hmm?”

Clint shrugged, “I don’t know, when the timing is right? I’ll know after the baby’s born.”

Fury shook his head, “This complicates things far more than either of you realize, Barton.” Clint stayed silent; he knew Fury was right, but he would never admit it. “Sure, you can get through the next months doing what you’ve been doing. But once that baby is born, both of your lives change forever. You are underestimating how much that child will mean to the both of you. Natasha may never be ready to go back, and neither may you. And you better be careful. That child is going to need a lot of protection with the parents they’re gonna have. You may be whichever undercover names you are here, but don’t forget you are still Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.”

He stood up from the chair, “When she wakes up, you tell her to take care of herself. And that’s an order.”

Clint nodded and Fury places a hand on his shoulder, “Keep me updated, too. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on. It’ll be just the three of us, none of Avengers will know.”

“Of course, sir.”

Fury walks down the porch steps, “Oh, and call your little Kate Bishop friend, she’s been bugging the shit out of me.”

Fuck. Clint had been so preoccupied in the last couple months he didn’t realize that he had placed Kate on the back burner.

It had been five years ago that he had discovered her trying to be a mini-Hawkeye. And after seeing some promise in her, he decided to began training her. She was a free spirit, and she sure acted like she hated him, but Clint had become very close to the teenager.

No, he was nowhere near like a father to her, maybe more like an older brother?

And he had his phone shut down for the past five months, only thinking about how the Avengers may try to contact him, and not Kate. Fuck, she was going to be pissed.

Clint made his way back into the house; good, Tasha was still asleep. He went back upstairs, taking the gun with him so he could put it away. He went into their closet, spotting the burner phone they had for emergencies.

He knew her number by heart, now he just had to pray she would pick up the phone.

Three rings went by before he heard a dry, “If this is a telemarketer calling, get a life, dude.”

“Kate?”

“That’s my name. What do you want?”

“Kate, it’s Barton.”

There was a long pause.

“Kate?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry, Kate, I-”

“No seriously, fuck you. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to contact you?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You and Nat go on the run, and you don’t even tell me?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Kate, I’m sorry-”

“Stop saying that!”

“Okay.”

“Look, I know you’re on your little farmhouse and when you guys need a break, I can’t just show up but you could’ve at least kept in contact with me. You just abandoned me for the past five months.”

“Kate, I can’t apologize enough. I never meant to abandon you, something just came up and we had to lose all contact with everyone and I just forgot.”

“Glad I’m forgettable.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Fine. But what the hell happened that was so important that you completely cut me off from your life? Hmm?”

Clint didn’t know what to say. I mean, he knew he had to reveal his little secret, but this was he first time telling anyone about Natasha.

“Hello? Earth to Barton? What happened?”

“It’s Natasha.”

“…is she okay?”

“She’s pregnant.”

There’s a small pause.

“Shut up, you’re lying.”

“No, I’m not, I promise.”

“How? I mean, I know ‘how’, but like I thought she couldn’t, ya know, have a baby?”

“We aren’t sure. But she is. She’s a little over five months today.”

“Damn…Barton’s having a baby. That’s wild.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this though, okay?”

“Of course.”

“You should stay over soon, you got to see the nursery. I built everything from scratch. It’s pretty nice.”

“For sure. I’ll let you know when. I’m kind of busy doing some small missions of my own here and there. Nothing too intense, but I was trying to keep busy.”

“Good, I’m glad. I should go though, I should probably check on Natasha.”

“Yeah, do that! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye, Kate.”

“Bye, birdbrain.”

———

Natasha was six months pregnant when she brought up baby names. Clint was in the nursery (which looked like a construction zone at this point) and she took a seat in the rocking chair, asking him if he had any ideas.

It took Clint by surprise, but he stopped his work, sat on the ground and looked back at her. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

Natasha placed a hand on her bump, which had grown a great deal at this point. “I think it’s a boy.”

Clint laughed a little, “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. Why, you don’t?”

Clint shook his head, “I have no clue. I mean I don’t really have a way of knowing.”

Natasha started rubbing small circles across her bump, feeling the baby shifting around. Last month she felt a kick for the first time. She grabbed Clint’s hand while they laid on the couch together, placing it gently on the bump as the baby kicked for him as well. Clint couldn’t believe what he was feeling and he didn’t take his hand away for a while. Natasha let him enjoy these moments with the bump, as she knew that she got much more experience with the baby daily than he did.

“It might be a girl,” Clint stated, fiddling with a piece of wood in his hands. “A little redhead who looks like you.”

Natasha gave him a small smile. He liked this. This little moment was nice. Sure, it was a little late in her pregnancy, but he would have never rushed her.

“And if it’s a girl, what do we call her?” she asked.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I kind of like shorter names like Ellie or Meg. Why, did you have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking either Sophie or Anya.”

Clint smiled, “Anya? I like that.”

Natasha looked up, “You do?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty. And Russian?”

Natasha nodded, “Yes. It means grace.”

“Well, I think it’s perfect. What if it’s a boy? Do you have a Russian name in mind too?”

“I was thinking Sasha. Or Misha. The first means defending men, the second is gift from God.”

“I like Misha. It’s cute,” Clint replied, leaning back against the finished crib. “I think they should have your last name.”

She raised her brows, “Mine?”

Clint shrugged, “Yeah. We could like hyphenate it like the young kids do now. You know, Romanoff-Barton?”

“Hmm. I’d like that.”

They sat in silence for a couple minutes before she spoke again, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Natasha shifted in the chair, moving her focus to her hands, still resting on the bump. “For not talking much. For keeping to myself. For not being overly excited. There’s a lot.”

Clint moved closer to her, placing his hand on her knee, “Tasha, you have nothing to be sorry for. This baby was a lot to take in, and you’re the one doing all the hard work. You can be quiet. You don’t have to talk to me about things you don’t want to. We both are new to this, we’re not going to do everything by the book.”

“Maybe we could start talking about the baby more, though.”

Clint smiled up at her, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Natasha took one of her hands off her knee and placed it on her belly, “They’re kicking.”

———

Kate stayed over when Natasha hit seven months. She only stayed for a couple days, and she definitely was weirded out. Sure, it was all very exciting, but it was very odd. The woman she knew for five years, who she had seen bloodied, bruised, shooting a gun, throwing knifes into targets, was now folding baby onesies into a dresser in a pale yellow nursery.

It was weird.

And now, Barton, the most sarcastic man in the world, was being gentle around her.

Everything was changing, and Kate didn’t know if she liked it.

For the three days she was there, she tried to keep things like normal. Clint took her shooting in the backyard, which was nice. Then she helped him in the nursery. When she first walked in, it was strange. She would have never pictured this.

The old gray walls were now pale yellow. There was a crib, a changing table, a dresser, and a closet that had the beginnings of a child’s wardrobe. There were a few stuffed animals, a few books, and a blanket draped over the crib.

“Wow,” she said.

Clint smiled, “I know. Weird, huh?”

“Extremely.”

Clint and her started to work on a wooden rocking horse that he had seen in one of the baby books. They fell right back into their old selves, joking around the entire time, each throwing lighthearted insults at the other.

Kate had really missed him. He was the only strong male figure who stayed around in her life, and truthfully, she had grown to love him like family. Sure, she would never say that to his face, but, yeah, it was true.

“So, you, uh, got a name for the little assassin yet?”

“Natasha picked some out. We got Misha Ryan Romanoff-Barton for boy, Anya Arianna Romanoff-Barton for girl.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Hey, I’m not doing any of the hard work, so why should the kid just be a Barton?”

Kate handed him the hammer, sitting back as he used it. “This is weird.”

Clint kept hitting the wood piece into place, “Well, it’s not finished yet so don’t-”

“Not the horse.”

Clint stopped and looked up at Kate, whose face had turned somber. “Oh.” He placed the hammer down next to him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kate adverted her eyes away from his, “It’s just…It’s just going to be so different.”

“Yeah, it will be. But it’ll be exciting too.”

Kate bit at her bottom lip, “Maybe for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She began fiddling with the tools in front of her, picking one up to examine it, and then placing it back on the floor.

Clint, still seated in front of her, grabbed the tools from her hands. “Talk to me, Hawkette.”

She half-smiled at his nickname for her and looked up at him, “This baby is so important to you guys. I just don’t want our relationship to change.”

Clint nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Kate, that won’t happen. Honestly, the baby will probably make us closer. We’re definitely going to need your help with them. And I want the little bugger to have their Auntie Kate around to teach them and play with them. You can stay here with us, in your room. We aren’t going to change that. You can come here any time you’d like, just as long as you tell us beforehand. We love you, Kate. And yeah, the baby is going to change some stuff, but I promise we are all going to be okay.”

Kate nodded, grinning a little, but still looking unsure. “Okay.”

“I promise you. You’re going to be such a huge part of this baby’s life.”

Kate smiled at Clint, picked up his hammer and handed it to him, “Let’s finish this horse.”

———

Natasha was officially eight months pregnant when she awoke in the middle of the night with severe pains, and a puddle of warm liquid between her legs.

The baby was coming.

She shook Clint awake, “Clint. Clint.”

“Wha-what?”

“I think I’m in labor.”

With the word ‘labor’, he jumped awake, scrambling out of bed, “It’s time?”

Natasha let out a long moan, “Fuckkkkkk-“

“I take that as a yes.”

She shook her head, “It’s only eight months, we aren’t ready for this.”

“I don’t know if the baby is going to wait any longer.” He reached his hand out, “Here, let me help you. We have to get to the hospital.”

“No, no,” Natasha breathed out.

“No? Tasha, what are you talking about? Come on,” he reached for her again.

“Clint, we can’t. We can’t have anybody know about the baby. We have to do it here, we can hide them here, no one will know, we can-”

“Tasha, you aren’t being logical. We have to go to a hospital, we don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Natasha gripped her belly, another contraction slamming her hard. She moaned through it, “I don’t want them to take my baby!”

Oh.

Clint bent down to her side of the bed where she was sitting, feet on the floor. He took both of her hands in his, “Tasha, look at me. No one is going to touch that baby, okay? We’ll go as Mark and Elise, and we’ll give them a fake baby name too. We can call Fury after and sort it all out. But, I’m not risking your life or the baby’s by staying here. I’m not qualified to deliver a baby, and I know you aren’t either. So please, come with me. Please?”

Her eyes welled with tears, and she nodded her head, “Okay.”

Clint got her down the stairs carefully, her groaning in severe pain as she took each step. It felt very reminiscent of when she was two months pregnant, heading to the hospital the first time. Except now, they had a finished nursery with all hand-made furniture, a car seat, a high chair, stuffed animals, books, and more onesies than either had seen in their life.

They seemed like real parents.

And they were about to be. Very soon.

It was difficult to stay undercover for both of them. Especially when the one’s in pain, and the other is trying to comfort them. Natasha had to be careful not to call him ‘Clint’ in front of the nurses who got her all set up in her hospital room. Clint had almost slipped and called her ’Tasha’ while she squeezed his hand through a particularly painful contraction.

So, here they were, posing as Mark and Elise Leonard, about to give birth to either to Amy Marie or Alex Tyler Leonard.

It was ridiculous.

But they couldn’t risk anyone finding out.

Natasha had gotten paranoid at anyone who looked at her longer for five seconds, but luckily, this town was so small that there were less televisions than there were tractors, so most of them did not known the Avengers well, or at all.

The doctor immediately came to check on her when she arrived. He was concerned that the baby was coming too early, as she had three more weeks before she hit her due date.

One ultrasound later revealed that the baby was okay, and that they would just need a careful delivery. Hearing that made Clint feel so much better about coming here, and thankful Natasha agreed with him. If he was alone at home, he would have been so scared that something would have happened to either Natasha or the baby. Or both.

Of all the injuries Natasha had had in her life, nothing was more painful than this. This was the one thing that was most accurate about what she had heard about having a baby.

Labor sucks ass.

She tried to breathe through the contractions, but they hurt like a motherfucker and the fact that she had to be undercover was making her more irritable.

Clint was there for her the whole time, like he had been for this whole pregnancy. She was so grateful for him, but in this moment, she wanted to strangle him for putting this baby in her.

Three hours.

She got through three hours before she was able to receive the epidural. A long needle was shoved into her back, and the nurse was stunned by how well she took it. Clint smiled at her confused face, needles had no effect on the master assassin.

But contractions did.

Luckily the epidural kicked in and relieved her of the pain, but this was still a lot for Natasha.

Four hours of contractions, sweat, tears, and Clint’s hand going numb later, Natasha was at her breaking point.

“I need to push, I need to push, I need to-”

A short nurse came over to the bed, placing a hand on her leg, “You can’t push just yet, we need to make sure you are fully dilated before you do, okay Elise?”

Natasha wanted to kick her in the face.

She got through fifteen more minutes of excruciating pain, squeezing Clint’s hand and letting tears roll down her cheeks. “Please, I have to push,” she cried and the doctor came quickly to check how far along she was. This time, she was ten centimeters dilated and the doctor’s team gathered in the small hospital room, ready to deliver this baby.

The nurses got everything set up, including Clint, who was directed on how to hold his wife and what he should be doing. Clint was sat on the bed with her, body half next to, half behind her. His right arm wrapped around her shoulders, his left pulling up her left leg.

She looked up at him, a glimmer of fear in her watery eyes. He placed a kiss on her sweat covered forehead, “You got this.”

As another contraction hit, she cried through the overwhelming pressure to push, and the doctor was finally ready for her. “Okay, Elise!”

Fuck that name.

“You ready to meet your little one? On your next contraction, I need you to push.”

Natasha nodded, eyes squeezed shut as she waited for the pain to build up again. When it did, she held her breath and began to push how she had read too in the maternity books. Clint held her tightly as she screamed through her first push, a pain that was far worse than she had imagined.

It might not have been this bad if it wasn’t for the Red Room. If it wasn’t for the fact that this baby wasn’t supposed to be here. If she had instead got to live a normal life, like Elise and Mark did.

She snapped out of her thoughts as the doctor counted up, “One, two, three, push!”

Natasha listened to her body’s instincts, pushing as hard as she possibly could. “Good, good!” The doctor said, before she stopped and slammed her head back against the pillow.

“I can’t, I can’t-”

Clint placed his head against hers, “Yes, you can, you are doing so well, you got this.”

Another contraction came over her, and she pushed again. And again. And again.

After six rounds of pushing, Natasha was becoming exhausted, but on the seventh push, the doctor declared that the baby was crowning. He told Mark to take a peak at his baby’s head, and Clint was overwhelmed by what his was witnessing. “You’re almost there, you got this.”

Natasha pushed as hard as she could and this time, the baby’s head was out. After a second, the doctor told her, “One more push, Elise, and then you can see your baby! One, two, three!”

She pushed harder than she ever did, mustering up as much strength as she could through her exhaustion, when she felt an immense pressure release from her and heard the loud wails of a small baby. She flopped back against the bed and Clint as the doctor held up her newborn baby.

“It’s a girl!”

The two spies, heartless as they used to be, both sat astonished by what they were witnessing. Their baby, their little girl was right there, right in front of them.

“Here you go, mama,” a nurse said as she handed the wailing child to Natasha.

Natasha grabbed her carefully and placed the child on her chest, arms wrapped around her gently as Clint was still wrapped around her too. Natasha felt a tear roll down her cheek, “Hello, little one.”

Her Anya was here. And she was beautiful.

Both of the spies cried as they held their child for the first time. Her little screams subsided as she became more adjusted to her surroundings. The nurses got her all cleaned up, weighed and measured her, and wrapped her up in a blanket, putting a small hat on her head.

5lb, 6 oz. 18 inches long.

She was small, but she was mighty.

Their little Anya Arianna Romanoff-Barton.

#black widow #hawkeye #Clintasha #clint barton #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #clintasha au #clintasha edit #clint/natasha #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #anya romanoff-barton #avengers #mcu edit #winter soldier au #mcu #marvel mcu

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canigetuhhhhsomenerdyshit · 6 years

Note

imma try and ask you to answer all questions? Or like at least five of your choice because all of them are interesting

God, I love you. Thank you for this. I answered all the ones I hadn’t already.1. Do you prefer writing with black or blue pen? Black2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city? The city; the country is beautiful and I love the sunrise, but the bugs…I have a phobia of ticks and I would NOT survive out there.3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be? Piloting a plane, for sure. Its on my bucket list.4. Do you drink your tea or coffee with sugar? Tea, sometimes, coffee, always. I’ve been told that I’ve only ever had bad coffee if I need sugar to drink it, but goddammit, I’m just addicted to sugar.5. What was your favourite book as a child? Really liked the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but also the Mortal Instruments and other teeny bopper novels.6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Love baths, but only once in a while, as a bittersweet treat. Definitely prefer showers.7. If you could be a mythical creature, which would you choose? MERMAID. MERMAIDMERMAIDMERMAID8. Do you prefer reading paper or electronic books? Paper. It’s less convenient, but there’s nothing else like it.9. What is your favourite item of clothing? Actually, it’s a tie between two of my dresses. One of them was $10 at the family dollar, and the other was clearanced at Target!11. Who is a mentor to you? My dad, hands down.12. Would you ever want to be famous? If so, what for? Sure! Perhaps for writing; if my book is good enough or I write a kickass screenplay that magically gets purchased by a triple A Hollywood studio, I get it made into a movie, then I can make sure Josh Brolin is cast in it…and Adam Driver…and Rami Malek…and Ilana Glazer…and all the other actors I have crushes on that I can’t currently remember right now…13. Are you a restless sleeper? Very sound one, actually. 15. Which element best represents you? I want to think water or earth. Or, alternatively, iron or magnesium.16. Who do you want to be closer to? Everybody! Specifically, a few of my coworkers, a couple of my friends, plenty of my family friends.17. Do you miss someone at the moment? Ironically, my roommate. Even though there’s been so much strife in our apartment lately due to the people she’s been seeing, I don’t blame her, and I miss her because of it. We live together but its been months since we really hung out the way I wish we could. It’s partially my fault, of course, but we won’t get into that.18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I’m a writer, you should know better than to tell a story. It’s not a specific one, but a common one. Waking up, the sun shining through my window, getting up at my leisure, coming downstairs, and seeing my dad making pancakes in the kitchen. Our griddle was excessively smoky, so it was always hazier and the beams of sunlight were more visible. It smelled like batter and smoke and summer. I was always the first one up after my dad, so I’d help set the table, get all the syrup and butter set out. Then he’d wake up my sister, and I’d wake up my mom, and we’d all sit down for a nice breakfast together. He used a little bit of vanilla in his recipe, so the pancakes would taste a little extra cake like. I miss that shit; I’m excited to move away from this city, so that when I have to come back home for the holidays, I can stay with my parents, and come downstairs to them making food again.20. What can you see outside your bedroom window? A courtyard/garden, and an alley. 21. What are you most thankful for? My family, and myself.22. Do you like spicy food? YESSS I love it!!!23. Have you ever met someone famous? I met Grizz from 30 Rock, does that count? I also met a few YouTubers, but their famousness is more subjective than a tv star’s.24. Do you keep a diary or journal? A few, scattered around. I snapchat myself like a diary, I do free association diaries on an old Google account, I have a private Instagram where I post updates on my personal life. Depends on which details I want to share, where. Nothing physical, though.25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil? I hate to choose between the two; pen is so permanent, distinct, but pencil is good for the ideas you aren’t sure about yet. I carry both with me at all times.26. What is your star sign? I’m a Sagittarius sun (Taurus moon, Libra ascendant, if you care about those things)27. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? CRUNCHY! I don’t give a shit if Cap’n Crunch shreds the roof of my mouth, the CRUNCH is what I need28. What would you want your legacy to be? I want to be the best friggin Hufflepuff I can be, tbh29. Do you like reading? What was the last thing you read? I love it, but I usually only end up doing it on vacations. The last book I read was ‘IT’, months ago, but the last thing I read was probably fanfiction (maybe even my own, lmao, I love rereading and learning from my past writing choices).30. How do you show someone you love them? I’m actually tied in three ways for my top love language; I show my love any way I can, apparently. Gifts, vocal affirmations, physical touch, quality time, the whole nine yards. If I love you, you’ll know.31. Do you like ice in your drinks? Nope. Too coldy for my teethies.34. Do you address older people by their first or last name? I address people how they want to be addressed? I’m not sure how to answer this; I suppose in general I default to ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ a lot, rather than saying actual names. Displays my playful spirit and a casual but sincere respect all at once.35. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? On the road, coming home every few months. I want to live everywhere, for a little while. On the beach, in the mountains, in the forest, the desert. I wanna go everywhere and learn everything.36. Do you prefer swimming in pools or in the ocean? Pools, but only because of my love/hate relationship with the ocean. Thing’s massive and intrigues me so much, but I know better than to fuck with it for too long.37. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground? If it had been there a while, I’d keep it. If someone had just dropped it, I’d return it. I’m probably save it, maybe put it on my student loans, who knows.38. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish? I have! The first one I ever ‘saw’ I made up because my sister saw one before I did and I wanted to seem cool (I was seven, I think). But the first real one I saw was in a parking lot with a friend in high school. Felt magical, made a wish. Doubt it came true; it was probably a wish for a boyfriend lmao dumbass39. What is one thing you would want to teach your children? Patience. I know it can’t be taught, but I’d try my darnedest to see if I could at least give them a little bit of mine.41. What can you hear right now? I’m listening to my songs on shuffle, and currently its my favorite band Gorillaz’s song ‘Rhinestone Eyes’. There’s a dog panting on the floor, fan running on the ceiling, the A/C is quietly humming.42. Where do you feel the safest? The house I grew up in. You can’t fuck with me there, it’s like the Asgard to my Hela, I get all my power from it.43. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? I want to conquer my GD writer’s block so I can write some good original shit.44. If you could travel back to any era, which would you choose? THE 80S!!!! PLEASE, let me go back to the 80s, I would’ve killed it. High waisted shorts, hi-tops, the music, the lack of internet…sounds dreamy.45. What is your most used emoji? 💕 47. How would you spend your ideal day? Go to a morning movie stoned, perhaps by myself, get some killer lunch, hangout with my family for a bit, maybe get dinner or make dinner, end the night with a smoke sesh with my girls and in bed by 10:30.49. What do you regret the most? Not getting closure with a lot of people.50. Invent your own word. What does it mean? Uhhhh……..I’ll get back to you on that one.

#ask

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jennmoslek36 · 6 years

Text

August 18th, 2018

I HAD OFFERED to take some photos before & during the service so it would be at least one less thing Dee Dee would have to worry about. While taking pics of the people seated, I noticed three gentlemen seated in the row behind where my husband & I were going to sit. They were chatting amongst themselves & I instantly recognized two of them from all of the research I’d done & all of the media coverage…I was looking at Retired Army Captain Bryant Middleton & Mr. Roger Dean Kiser.

MR. ANDREW PUEL

MR. BRYANT MIDDLETON & MR. ROGER KISER

THE FIRST HELLO WITH THE PROGRAM getting ready to start, I made my way back to my seat…And happened to make eye contact with one of the men. Still feeling like I didn’t really have the right to be there, I almost sat without saying a word. Instead, I told myself “What the Hell”, turned to the row behind me & extended my hand. “HI, I’m Jenn.” To my surprise I got a warm reception from Retired Army Captain Bryant Middleton, one of the Whitehouse Boys. I attempted to explain my really odd situation but before I could finish he said that Bob had mentioned me on a couple of occasions & that Dee Dee had also told him some of what I’d been involved in regarding the school. I was completely taken aback but we couldn’t finish the conversation as the service was starting. As I turned around to be seated, he leaned in & whispered “We need to speak later, there are some things you need to know.” I nodded & sat as the music began. I would definitely catch up with Bryant as soon as the service had ended.

A Teenaged Bryant Middleton

Bryant Today…

IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING THE ceremony, everyone gathered in a small area in a building on the other side of the church. As I made my way over, I peered through the windows of each door lining the hallway & it wasn’t lost on me that this reception was being held in the school area of the church…How Ironic.

THE ROOM WASN’T too crowded but the buzz of conversation was loud. I finally found a seat across from Bryant Middleton, who invited me to listen in on the stories that the Whitehouse Boys around us were sharing amongst each other. With each passing minute I felt another little piece of my heart break. Although I had read about the atrocities of Dozier, hearing the school’s victims recount their experiences made it so much more real. I waved my husband over to the empty seat next to Bryant so he could hear what they had to say (Since he’s often referred to me as crazy whenever I mention ANYTHING Dozier related!)…When there was a brief pause in the conversation, Bryant introduced me to the others, not just explaining my interest in the school but that I’d be taking over for Bob. I was a bit speechless (Yeah, I know…Me Speechless?) to hear at least 2 others say that Bob had mentioned talking to me. Not really sure of what to say, I blurted out “I’m your new Whitehouse Boy!”

Whitehouse Bo…Um, Girl??

THE WHITEHOUSE GIRL

THANK GOD THAT everyone thought my statement was funny OR I would have excused myself & NEVER returned! I believe it was Roger Kiser that corrected me, saying “Actually More Like Whitehouse Girl!” Good call…I can live with that! As things were winding down, I asked Bryant what he & the others felt would the best possible outcome, finally allowing their group to end their fight for justice? His reply was simple: “The State of Florida Needs To Give Us The Dozier Land.” In my mind that seems like a fair request & one that can be easily achieved. So hey Sunshine State, if you’re reading this, hand over the land to the men that your shit show of a school spent years trying to break!

MR. ANDREW PUEL JR.

WHILE CHATTING WITH this inspirational group of men, I recalled a thick, unopened envelope that Dee Dee had handed me the week before. The large packet had been sent by Andrew Puel & contained a case file of a Dozier boy who had passed while at the school under suspicious means.

Package From Andrew Puel…

UNFORTUNATELY BOB HAD been too sick to ever even open it. I stood up & asked “Do one of you happen to be Andrew Puel?” A gentleman in a pale yellow shirt quickly responded “That’s me.” I held out my hand & replied “Nice to meet you sir, I believe I have a file that you sent to Bob.” He nodded in acknowledgment. I told him that I would be looking through it but might have some questions as I go. He readily agreed that I could contact him anytime.

A Teenaged Andrew Puel

Mr. Andrew Puel At The State Archives…Sitting In The EXACT Same Spot That I Did When I Was There!

ACCORDING TO ANDREW, his childhood had been vastly different from a lot of the others. He had come from a loving home & had never so much as had a hand raised to him. As he spoke, I could only imagine the shock & horror he must have experienced during his time at Dozier. To go from one extreme to the other had to have created scars both figuratively & literally for life, however, he spoke with a gentle voice & when he smiled, you could see it in his eyes. He too went on to be a great advocate for justice, taking on a lot of the research & often traveling hundreds of miles to view the Dozier archives OR attend a ceremony. Andrew is also a writer, co-authoring a book about the Dozier School, the investigation & the cover-up. I like to think of it as a more in depth “Cliff Notes” collection of facts. Unfortunately, this particular book is difficult to get your hands on (Hhmm, I wonder why?!?) So I will be guarding the few copies that I was able to get from Bob!

A FEW PRIVATE MOMENTS WITH ROGER KISER

WITH THE DAY drawing to a close, it was time for the “Whitehouse Boys” to hit the road. They had come together, with one living in Tampa, one in Georgia, another in Gainesville, etc.. While waiting for the others to come out to the parking lot, I stood in the courtyard with Roger Kiser. He filled me in on some of his time before, during & after Dozier. At the risk of sounding repetitive, I feel it’s not my place to share ALL of Roger’s words with the rest of the world, however, I will share that his story both crushes me while at the same time making me proud to have met him…An extremely confusing combination of feelings to have. I say this because he started our conversation with these words: “My experience was different than most of the others because by the time I got to Dozier, I had already spent my life being beaten & molested.” “I had no family & I knew no different.”

A Young Roger Kiser

I HAD BOTH read about & listened to Roger’s story prior to actually meeting him BUT standing next to him, listening to him speak about his life experiences had me imagining this little boy being shuffled around from abuser to abuser. My eyes were burning as I tried holding back tears. I wanted to go back in time, scoop him up & hug him. Tell him he was loved, wanted & I’d fix everything. Unfortunately, I was more than 50 years too late to help that little boy.

A Teenaged Roger…

Roger Dean Kiser

THOUGH MY HEART ached for the boy, I couldn’t help but be inspired by the man. Roger Dean Kiser was a survivor. Eventually breaking free of Dozier, he would accept the challenges he continually faced, plowing straight through them. He would go on to serve in the military, get a nursing degree, have a family, become a talented, published author (I will put a link below to all of his work & also the link for one of my favorite podcasts, Sword and Scale, that Roger was on…Check it out! Mike Boudet is the host & he’s totally awesome!) & a major child advocate. It would be Roger that would be the first to step up & tell what had happened to him at Dozier…It would also be Roger that would become the founder of the “Whitehouse Boys Organization”, giving hundreds of victims a public forum of support to share their experiences as well.

One Of My Favorite Roger Kiser Books…

ROBERT STRALEY SHARES HIS STORY…

OBVIOUSLY BOB WAS gone as that is why people had traveled from ALL over, gathering to celebrate the man who spent so much of his life fighting to get justice for the past while trying to change the future of Juvenile Detention. In Spite of his passing, Bob still managed to get his story out there. The following was written by Bob & was included in his service program…

IT’S NOT GOODBYE, IT’S SEE YA LATER!

WHEN I THINK back to that day, I still have a hard time believing that I met these men & how involved I’ve become. The day was full of sadness & reflection BUT I don’t want to end this post on a sad note. So let me tell Y’all the story of how the Whitehouse Boys & I parted ways that evening.

Some Of The Dozier Boys…Names Unknown.

WHILE I WAS speaking with Roger, Bryant came outside & said “I should move my car out of the parking lot & hide it…When Andrew comes out, he’ll think I left him!” The grin on Bryant’s face was huge & it made it hard to deny him his ultimate prank moment. Roger & I looked at each other & agreed to play dumb. Bryant retrieved his SUV from the church parking lot & drove it across the street, just out of view. Sure enough out came Andrew several minutes later stating he was finally ready to go & inquiring about where the car & Bryant were. Again, Roger & I looked at each other & trying to keep a straight face I said “I’m pretty sure I saw him leave a few minutes ago.” “He said goodbye & then got in his car & drove off.” At this point the look on poor Andrew’s face was of confusion! Roger continued “Yep, I came out to look for him & he was gone.” Andrew finally spoke stating “What do you mean he left??”

THANK GOD WE didn’t have to carry on the charade too much longer as all 3 of us saw Bryant slowly inching his SUV back into view! We ALL got a good chuckle out of the prank & with a few hugs, a kiss on the cheek & everyone saying “call anytime” & “You’ll always have plenty of places to stay!” They were off! I stood there waving as they drove away, knowing that I would be speaking with, even perhaps seeing these men again.

I SERIOUSLY HAD NO clue that many more would begin contacting me…And the world had yet to hear from this group…

*Originally Posted On 09/19/2018…Updated & Reposted On 10/16/2018*

Want More “Finding Florida?” Hit That “SUBSCRIBE” Button! FOR ALL DOZIER SCHOOL INFO GO TO: http://www.whitehouseboys2007.com & http://thewhitehouseboysonline.com/index.html#.W5hiq6gpBxC FOR FULL PHOTO GALLERIES & ADDITIONAL LOCATION INFO FOLLOW ME ON FB AT: @GRAVEAdventuresFL

BRYANT MIDDLETON’S STORY: http://www.thewhitehouseboys.com/middleton.html ANDREW PUEL’S STORY: http://thewhitehouseboys.com/andrewpuel.html ROGER DEAN KISER’S STORY: http://www.thewhitehouseboys.com/laundry.html THE WORKS OF ROGER DEAN KISER: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/authorrdk SWORD AND SCALE PODCAST ~ DOZIER EPISODE (Interview w/ Roger Kiser): http://swordandscale.com/sword-and-scale-episode-7/

*There’s also a spin-off Pod Cast Called “Sword & Scale Rewind” That discusses the episode…It can be found at the same link as the full pod cast!* **I CAUTION YOU THAT THE SHARED STORIES AS WELL AS THE PODCAST DEAL WITH EXTREME PHYSICAL & SEXUAL ABUSE…VIEWER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!!!**

CELEBRATING THE LIFE OF ROBERT STRALEY ~ Pt. 3: Face to Face With The Whitehouse Boys August 18th, 2018 I HAD OFFERED to take some photos before & during the service so it would be at least one less thing Dee Dee would have to worry about.

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millathekidwrites-blog · 6 years

Text

About: A famous blogger and her friend. Genre: Contemporary. TW: Mentions of suicide.

Playlist:

Go the distance - Robert Bart Immortal - Elley Duhé Don’t Kill My Vibe - Sigrid

//Download as a pdf//

Keep reading to read the story directly on the blog. Feedback is always appreciated.

August 10 11.47 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Blog

Anonymous said: Where are you?

Here.

Anonymous said: Where have you been?

I took a break, but I’m back now.

Anonymous said: Kinda though you had been kidnapped my aliens.

I wish.

Anonymous said: Are you okay?

Yeah. I’ll start posting again tomorrow or something.

Anonymous said: We were worried. Remember to drink water.

What the fuck have you guys been smoking? I’m fine. And relaxx, you’ll get your regular dose of conspiracy theories tomorrow. Promise. Peace out.

August 10 11.49 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Innbox

Private message from anonymous: Have you finally killed yourself? I fucking hope so. I’m so sick of seeing your ugly blog. Do everybody a big ass favor and NEVER COME BACK.

Private message from anonymous: Really, you just can’t disappear from a famous blog like this. Fucking ungrateful shit. I’m unfollowing, just so you know.

Private message from anonymous: Whore.

Private message from anonymous: I’m going to start following sunnyalienn instead of you. At least she can keep us updated.

August 11 9.15 a.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Blog

Conspiracy theory #107

Theory: According to a transcript and a documentary, Marilyn Monroe was killed because she intended to leak the existence of aliens. Marilyn, according to some people, had an affair with JFK and his brother. The threat is a result of her being ignored by both of them. She probably didn’t know how dangerous the american government was and what kind of resources they used to protect the secret about the existence of alien life on earth.

My opinion: Not one of the most interesting conspiracy theories, but just think for a second what would happen if this was true, and Marilyn hadn’t been killed? Could we have known the truth about life on other planets as early as 1960?? And how scary is it to think about this happening to other celebrities. What the fuck did Elvis, MH and Robin Williams know??

What do you think?

August 11 11.05 a.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

Theodyssey51: Hey girl, have you seen Alien: Covenant yet? I won’t spoil it, but damn, it’s worth seeing. Are you up to an Alien marathon soon? My boyfriend seriously wants to see all the Lord of the Rings movies. How in the hell did I end up with this idiot? SAVE ME.

nostromojinn: I seriously think you have to break up. Lord of the Rings? LORD OF THE RINGS?? That’s strike one, by the way. Also, wasn’t he the one that made you listen to One Direction?

Theodyssey51: Are you going to kill me if I tell you that Harry Styles’ music isn’t THAT bad? He’s gone solo now if you haven’t heard. All the members have, but Harry Styles is the only one worth listening too. Listen to Sign of the Times. Okay, did I just write a whole paragraph about a pop artist?

Nostromojinn: Yes, sir, you did. Strike two.

August 12 1.05 a.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Blog

Far away

Does anybody feel like they belong somewhere else? That they where meant to be born on a different planet, but then some cosmic disaster happened and you were born here on earth? Maybe that’s why I like everything connected to space and aliens. Because I am one. Too weird? I’ll go to bed now.

August 13 2.13 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

Theodyssey51: Have you seen that new blog everyone’s talking about?

nostromojinn: Yeah, what the hell is that? Fan-fiction about us?

Theodyssey51: Looks like it. Someone asked her about it and she didn’t deny it.

nostromojinn: Sick.

Theodyssey51: No it’s cute.

nostromojinn: Is that Vinn person suppose to be me? «It’s seemed like it dripped experience from Vinn’s eyes, like they were too eager to share all the beauty they’d seen.» Don’t think she wants to know what’s really dripping from my eyes.

Theodyssey51: Bile? She mentioned you in her first posts, so it’s probably you she’s writing about.

nostromojinn: Isn’t that kinda weird?

Theodyssey51: Can’t you just take a compliment like a regular person? Now be a cool celebrity and comment on her blog.

nostromojinn: Funny.

Theodyssey51: My character seems fun though. You think Tana is the girl who writes these stories? Maybe she needs friends.

nostromojinn: Maybe she needs a life.

Theodyssey51: You’ve reached you sarcasm limit today. Please try again with a different response.

nostromojinn: (~˘▾˘)~

August 13 5.46 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Blog

Conspiracy theory #108

Theory: God was created by aliens that landed on earth for many, many years ago. According to this website: ufointernationalproject.com, it was aliens who created all religions that exists today. The humans are apparently not smart enough to invent religions, and that’s why it’s more likely that aliens created them. And also, they’re headed towards earth right now to take those religions back, and put all humans in quarantine to prevent a cosmic disaster.

My opinion: This is BS. It has to be. Humans have figured out that the universe are made up off quarks, I think we’re smart enough to make up a man in a white dress yelling «LET THERE BE LIGHT!» And I’ve met enough stoned people to know where that «the world is a turtle» - theory stems from. Sorry guys. It was a fun one though.

What do you think?

August 15 11.30 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

Theodyssey51: HEY, guess who just got fucked.

nostromojinn: What? That’s nasty.

Theodyssey51: Ha ha. It’s not me. A friend stopped by with her cat, and we might’ve made kittens! Or our cats have. All i did was put them in a cage and wait until they got so bored and didn’t have any other choice than to mate.

nostromojinn: That’s still nasty. What if we did that to humans?

Theodyssey51: We already do. It’s called SCHOOL!

nostromojinn: I’m so happy we went to different schools.

Theodyssey51: OMG. Have you seen this?

nostromojinn: What?

Theodyssey51: https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nostromojinn

August 15 10.31 p.m Wikipedia / Nostromojinn

Nostromojinn From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Nostromojinn is a famous blogger who runs nostromojinn.tumblr.com. She frequently blogs about aliens, but also about songs, feelings and every day life.

Origin and name. Nostromojinn has been blogging for three years and have several thousand followers. The name nostromojinn stems from the ship Nostromo from the movie Alien. The blog’s tagline (In space no one can hear you scream) is from Alien’s tagline (In space no one can hear you scream). She also calls herself Random chick no. 426. Something that probably refers to the planet where the Xenomorphs are from, LV-426.

Personal life Nobody knows Nostromojinn’s real name or what she looks like.

Links https://nostromojinn.tumblr.com

August 15 10.35 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

nostromojinn: WHAT THE FUCK? Did you do that?

Theodyssey51: No. I promise! It’s kinda cool, though.

nostromojinn: It’s weird. Like, sooo weird. Who’s interested in reading an article about me??

Theodyssey51: Me. And you.

nostromojinn: Nope. I’m good.

Theodyssey51: Are you going to show your face on your blog soon or what?

nostromojinn: NOOO. How do you figure that’ll go? I can fucking hear all those anonymous bastards. I thought you were prettier. Have you always been this ugly? Now I understand why you didn’t show your face.

Theodyssey51: Fuck those anonymous bastards.

nostromojinn: Easy for you to say.

Theodyssey51: Yeah, i’m an unpopular and unimportant fart.

nostromojinn: Exchange lives?

Theodyssey51: Yes plz.

August 16. 5.25 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Blog

Conspiracy theory #109

Theory: I’m not sure if this is an conspiracy theory about aliens, but when I fell down this rabbit whole, I couldn’t stop falling. Okay, so the theory is that there’s an elite (celebrities and presidents and kings and the likes) of reptiles. REPTILES? Yep. They’re shape shifters and apparently they can take human form. And they control the world. And yeah, apparently both Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus are reptiles. Just check out this youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C83f40Z9azM

My opinion: Maybe I’m a reptile? Who knows?

What do you think?

August 17 11.17 a.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

Theodyssey51: Excuse me, but did you change your bio to random chick no. 427 just to be an ass?

nostromojinn: Wikipedia don’t know shit.

Theodyssey51: And the price for the most petty celebrity is…. You.

nostromojinn: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Theodyssey51: You’re VERY funny.

nostromojinn: ?

Theodyssey51: https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodyssey51

August 17 10.38 p.m Wikipedia / Theodyssey51

Theodyssey51 Fra Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Theodyssey51 is an unpopular and unimportant fart.

Links https://theodyssey51.tumblr.com

August 17 10.41 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

nostromojinn: There you go, you’re famous too. Now you have nothing to complain about…

Theodyssey51: You’ll regret this.

nostromojinn: I’m so afraid.

Theodyssey51: How do you change wikipedia.

nostromojinn: Just go to edit.

Theodyssey51: Where?

nostromojinn: Omg, use your eyes.

Theodyssey51: I CAN’T FIND IT!

nostromojinn: No problem, I’ll help you.

nostromojinn: https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodyssey51

August 17 10.45 p.m Wikipedia / Theodyssey51

Theodyssey51 Fra Wikipedia, den frie encyklopedi

Theodyssey51 is unpopular, an unimportant fart and fucking great with technology.

Eksterne lenker https://theodyssey51.tumblr.com

August 17 10.47 p.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Inbox

Theodyssey51: I hate you.

nostromojinn: I love you.

Theodyssey51: Why are you so CUTE? I can’t stay mad at you.

August 25 9.49 a.m Jinn / nostromojinn.tumblr.com Innbox

Private message from anonymous: Why don’t you answer everyone’s questions?? It’s fucking rude.

Private message from anonymous: Why haven’t you updated your blog in several days?

Private message from anonymous: You’re pathetic.

#mystories #fiction #writeblr

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sending-the-message · 7 years

Text

Case #1- Suspected Supernatural Activity In A Strip Club by JacobMielke

When I first moved to Milwaukee, I spent my days lounging about my new home, avoiding human contact. Eventually I figured it wasn’t healthy to be a shut-in at my age and I should make an effort at pretending to be a socially adept person.

That was why I found myself sitting in a dive bar, staring at a young woman sitting by herself at a table across the room. Her hair was dyed bright red and her arms were adorned with tattoos of various religious symbols, a pride flag, several pokemon, and a facial portrait of Linda Blair. She was stirring a martini and looked bored.

Now, I’ve never known how to chat up people. My one and only relationship came about when both of us realized we were already dating, so it’s not like I know how to make conversation.

Still, one must do what one can.

To this day, I am too ashamed to share my fumbling attempts to seem cool. I must have done something right because she let me sit with her and we conversed. Her name was Moxxy, which she told me was a play on her actual name, Molly. I introduced myself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Moxxy. My name’s Jacob. Mielke, in case you… I don’t know, wanted to know.” I internally screamed. Both the angel and the devil on my shoulders cringed.

“Milky? Like, the Milky Way Galaxy? Got Milk? Milk duds?”

“I’ve been called all of those at some point, yes. Jacob Mielke, like the drink, only not spelled the same.”

“How do you spell it?”

“M-i-e-l-k-e. It’s Italian.” I tried to pull off the accent and failed. I’m about as Italian as Olive Garden.

“Why does that sound so familiar? Did we go to school together?” She leaned forward, smiling mischievously. I didn’t have a clue who she was, and I think I’d remember meeting someone with such a unique sense of fashion.

“No, I lived in Pennsylvania my whole life. Just moved here a while ago.”

She grabbed my arm in a vice grip and I let out a rather unmanly yelp. She stared hard into my eyes. They were a lovely hazel, not that it mattered to me at the moment. “Do you write scary stories?”

As it turned out, Moxxy was a fan of my story A Lack of Empathy, which I’d posted on a creepypasta website years earlier. We had a long discussion about my bibliography, which culminated in her agreeing to check out more of my stories. And thus began a long and fruitful friendship. I never did end up getting into her pants like I’d originally planned but truth be told, it was nice just to have another friend in this strange, new city.

One day, several months after our meeting, I mentioned in passing that I wanted to try writing nonfiction work. She… took it to heart, would be a polite way of putting it.

“Oh my God, we have to go ghost hunting or something. You could be like a supernatural detective and you can write about your findings! People will love you!”

I admit, the idea was intriguing. I don’t think there are any horror writers who don’t believe, in some small way, there’s a hidden world under our own. A world that can’t be explained or seen, only glimpsed. Personally… well, let’s just say I’ve seen some things that absolutely inspired my work.

For our first “case”, as she called it, Moxxy suggested we go to a strip club she knew. I’m going to omit the name so as not to piss off the wrong people (the heavily armed people, that is). It didn’t take much prompting for me to agree to go. Can’t imagine why. Anyway, Moxxy said that some of the dancers at the club quit after experiencing “supernatural activity”. The plan was to go, buy private dances from a few of the women and question if they’d noticed anything out of the ordinary. I thought it might be easier (not to mention cheaper) to try asking them at the bar or something but if she wanted to do it via private dances, then damn it, I was going to respect her wishes.

I did some research on the club to prep for our investigation. Most of what I found was articles and opinion pieces posted online by people who have dedicated their lives to combating the evils of what consenting adults do in private. There were, however, a few that caught my eye. One article referenced an incident in which an employee disappeared. Apparently a bouncer named John Doe (totally his real name, guys) showed up for work one night and was never seen again. The owner and dancers confirmed seeing him there, doing his job, but at some point no one was paying attention to him anymore and then when they went to find him later, he was gone.

Another was a post on reddit (now deleted) claiming that a dancer had gone missing on a night she was scheduled to work. They attached a photo of her as well. It’s hard to tell how reliable that info is, as there were no sources to back it up and none of the commentators knew anything useful.

Eventually the night arrived. Moxxy and I took the bus to the club, where she just strolled right in without the bouncer saying shit about it. She winked at me and I stared murder at her while the bouncer took my money and ID. The club was packed; every seat around the stages held a man (and the occasional woman) with a fist-full of dollars. Moxxy suggested we split up to cover more ground (her investigative technique was plopping down in one of the chairs and staring at a voluptuous woman dancing upside-down on a pole). I was approached by my first dancer less than a minute after taking a seat at the bar.

“Hey, baby. You mind if I sit here?” She had a heavy Russian accent. I consented to her presence and we made small talk while I waited for her to propose a dance, as per experience dictated.

Did I say experience? I meant research. I’d researched strip club etiquette, not experienced it.

I paid for three dances and hinted that I was willing to spend more if kept happy. It was hard to get a question at first, she was really a fan of that thing exotic dancers do when they rub their breasts on your face. Eventually though, I asked: “So I heard that some weird things happen here. Like maybe the place is haunted. Ever notice anything weird around here?”

She stopped grinding on my lap abruptly, which was a sufficient answer in and of itself. “Where did you hear that?”

“A friend of mine knows some people who used to work here. She said they were scared by ghosts or something?”

“There’s no ghosts here.” She hesitated, then leaned in and whispered: “But I think there might be something. Sometimes when I walk by the basement door, I can hear my Babushka talking, telling me to come down. But she’s been dead for years.”

“How do you know it’s not her ghost?”

“I know my Babushka.” She dropped her eyes and I saw goosebumps appear on all over her. “I loved her and she loved me. Whatever that thing is, it does not love me. I can hear it in the voice.”

The remaining time in our dance was awkward. I let her wiggle, passionless and tense, on my lap until the songs were over and tipped her extra. I looked for Moxxy while returning to my seat at the bar but couldn’t find her in the crowd. Maybe she’d gotten a private dance. I waited but when four songs had passed she was still nowhere to be seen. The first inklings of doubt entered my mind. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go looking for… whatever this thing was. Another five songs passed and my concern blossomed into worry.

I found a man at the bar who looked like he belonged there and tapped his shoulder. “Hey buddy, have you been here before?”

He turned slowly to look at me with one eye (his other was too obscured by a drooping eyelid to be of much use). When he spoke I noticed his breath was infused with enough alcohol to sterilize a hospital. “Sure am.”

“Do you know where I can find the basement?”

He slurred some directions and pointed to the back of the club, near the restrooms.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome. I love you, man.”

“I love you too, sir. You have a nice night.”

It took me a minute to actually find the basement entrance. All the other doors in the establishment were painted black but the basement door was the same shade of red as the walls of the club. I couldn’t help but feel like they were intentionally hiding it from customer view (understandable). I made sure no one was watching and pressed my ear to the door.

Three things happened in the space of a few seconds. The first made my blood cold (you think that’s a silly saying? It’s not. When gripped in a state of intense fear, your brain releases epinephrine and cortisol to prepare your body to fight or flee. A side effect is a perceived rapid temperature drop). Someone (something) was scratching the door on the other side. It was too soft to be heard over the music, unless you were as close as me. I tried to think of a reason why a person would rake their nails on the door like that but I couldn’t. No one would do that unless they were crazy or intentionally trying to scare someone.

The second thing to happen… well, I’m not sure anything did happen. Materially speaking, at least. What I thought was happening was some kind of energy was pouring from the door and mixing with mine. For a split second I became convinced that some kind of consciousness was touching my mind. Something not human. More than that, just as I knew it was there, it was also aware of me.

And that was that. Mind made up, time to go. Except… you know that moment in a horror movie where a character does something really stupid?

The third thing to happen was the scratching stopped and the whispering began. I couldn’t make out what the voice was saying but the longer I listened, the more convinced I became that it was Moxxy’s.

Occam’s Razor: something, some ghost or demon or mimic monster, was using Moxxy’s voice to lure me into the basement. I’d become the next person to disappear in the club. The smart thing to do was obviously to walk away. And yet… Moxxy was missing. Why would she leave without me? It was her idea to come here in the first place. What if she went down there while I was getting a dance?

What if it wasn’t too late to save her?

I opened the door wide. Nothing stood before me. There was a light switch on the wall at the top of the stairs and I used it before taking a few steps down. Light flooded the basement and the terror that gripped me only moments ago vanished. I descended the rest of the way and looked around. The basement was a single, open room supported in places with cement pillars. Boxes were everywhere, piled from floor to ceiling in some places. Moxxy wasn’t down here but on the far side of the room was something that caught my attention: a hole in the wall. I crossed the room for a closer look. It was a perfect circle, like a laser beam cut through the concrete. It was about two feet across. While I examined it, two footsteps thudded at the top of the stairs. I turned and saw a man wearing the bouncer’s uniform standing in the doorway. His face was grim.

“Whatever you do, don’t scream.”

He retreated through the door and shut it. Before I could take a step in its direction, the light vanished. The fear returned. There was something in the basement and it was between me and the door. I could feel it there, feel its malice.

When flight is impossible and fighting isn’t an option, the human animal has a third defense mechanism rarely used: freeze. I didn’t so much as twitch a muscle in the dark. My breath was as shallow as I could make it without passing out and I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a shuffling in front of me and a raspy hiss that grew louder as my companion inched closer. Then it was in front of me, then all around me. The noise ceased completely and something touched me, just barely brushing the hairs on my arm.

Light shone in the basement and I saw it even through my closed eyelids. There was a bang and a voice I didn’t recognize: “Over here!”

I opened my eyes and turned my head in the direction of the sound. A young woman wearing flashy lingerie and body glitter (a dancer from the club?) stood in a doorway on the side of the basement. I hadn’t even noticed it was there before, I was so fixated on the hole in the wall. The dancer waved me over urgently. “This way!”

I moved for the door but a voice from behind once again froze me in place before I could reach it. “No… stay. Stay here with me. I won’t hurt you. I have things I want to show you.”

I raised a foot to step forward but moving was slow, like the air had turned to tar.

“Stay, Jacob. You’re just like me, a child of darkness. Stay. You can accomplish so much more down here with me. Just turn around… look at me.”

The woman in the doorway shook her head. “Don’t do it!”

A small puff of cold air hit my ear and a voice whispered mere centimeters from me, “Look at me.”

I bolted for the door. The woman turned and ran as well and I heard her high heels clanging on something metal. It was a staircase. The door led outside from the basement to an alley behind the club. I rushed up the stairs, but couldn’t resist looking back. The basement door was swinging shut on its own. In the moments before it closed, I saw a pair of eyes looking at me from the dark. They flashed green and yellow, like cat eyes. It was less than a second. But I looked. I saw.

I didn’t see the woman in the alley, nor did I see her when I went around to the front of the building. But I did see Moxxy, standing near the front door. She looked surprised to see me. “Sorry man, I got kicked out. Apparently you’re not allowed to put your fingers in the girls here. I was expecting you to come out the front. Did you learn anything from that Russian chick?”

I looked around. The woman couldn’t have gone so far so quickly. But she was gone. “Hey, did you see one of the dancers come running out before me?”

“No, just you. Jesus dude, are you okay? You’re shaking!”

It took two days to convince Moxxy I wasn’t making up a story. Two days for her to believe there really was something in the basement, something not as physical as a person yet not as immaterial as a spirit. She wasn’t very sensitive about how close I came to… well, something tells me death isn’t a strong enough word to cover it. More than anything else, she was excited. In her mind, our new investigation team was in full force and we’d just opened our first case.

Though I was too terrified to realize it at the time, the bouncer who stood at the top of the stares and the dancer who led me to safety had faces I’d seen before, in pictures on the internet on articles and posts about missing strip club employees.

The terror I’d experienced faded over time. I think the mind has a way of refusing to feel certain things, in order to protect itself. I still think about that day sometimes and I’ve never forgotten those eyes (“Look at me.”). Still, life has mostly gone on as normal.

Well, not normal. Over the years, Moxxy and I encountered a great many things that could generously be referred to as unusual. I didn’t get around to publishing our stories or the adventures of the tiny amateur group that would eventually become Mielke Investigations until now. I did write about them though, keeping my musings and notes and findings in folders on my computer marked as cases. This one, obviously, was Case #1.

I do plan on sharing more of our cases once I figure out the technical details and rules (like should I put a series tag on these posts even if they’re all stand-alone stories?) both on this site and my professional author page (which you can view here by the way).

I’m not sure why I want to share these stories or even why I seek out the paranormal in the first place. I think it has something to do with what that thing in the basement said about me being a “child of darkness”. I don’t consider myself a bad person but I do write about evil. Not only as fiction but now also as my experiences with it. I record the dark things and then bring them to you. Maybe that’s enough to count me among them.

Or not, I’m basically talking out my ass at this point. Thanks for reading about my experiences. There will be more cases to come. In the meantime, some advice: when you go to a strip club, try to stay with the crowd. And don’t go in the basement.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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