ER

21 she/her click for my ao3

[plushbones]

A bit behind huh SORRY but chapter 9 & 10 out!

Prom queen

A fanfic based on the song "Prom queen- Insane Clown Posse"

TW: kidnapping, stalking, manipulation, toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, unreliable narrator (check tags)

Posted on ao3 under: plushbones

v (chapters 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, and 10 all posted on my account here) v

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

fanfiction is a rare gem and a solid, living proof that, in a world of tiktok, influencers and content posting, not everything is about money and going viral. art can still be art just for the sake of the artists’ pure love, joy and passion for the art they create. fanfic writers write 100k words and more about the characters they love for free. just because they love these characters and the art of writing so much. art is not dead and the world is still beautiful.

shoutout to fanfiction and fanfic writers

[plushbones]

stephen king is so real cause everything I’ve ever wrote is about me

[plushbones]

Prom queen

A fanfic based on the song "Prom queen- Insane Clown Posse"

TW: kidnapping, stalking, manipulation, toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, unreliable narrator (check tags)

Posted on ao3 under: plushbones

↓ (chapters 1,2,3,4,5,6 and 7 all posted on my account here) ↓

Reblog by @plushbones · 1 link

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 12 · ↓ Chapter 7 ↓ The stairs creaked loud under my weight as I jogged up the stairs. I’m so excited to cook for you again, I

Chapter 8 ↓

Chapter 8: Our first kiss NSFW warning

My head is hot and throbbing after lunch. The pressure inside my skull is trying to split it open, and I press the heel of my hand against my temple but it doesn’t help. I know I was being naïve but I really didn’t think you’d ask about getting to leave, it’s only been a couple days, sure, but I thought you were smarter than that, thought you knew what was going on by now. I can’t keep letting you get to me though, you are my one weakness and if you knew that, you could use it against me, and we can’t have that, you in control, that would get sloppy. I picture you with your little tricks, with your stubborn silence, trying to bend me, and the thought hurts. I need to get my head back on my shoulders, I walk down the hallway and my shoulders feel heavy, slumping into my bedroom. I stare at the photos that I keep next to my bed, you laughing and smiling with your friends people from your old life, some of you just walking. Mine in every frame, even when you didn’t realize it. God you look so beautiful, soft and delicate, and mine. Even in old photos of you I can see it in your eyes, that need to be owned and protected that you have. The one photo, my favorite photo, you caught me. That’s when I knew this was meant to be, all those people that claimed to be your friends, and William that guy I saved you from, they didn’t know you, they drained you. I feel so heroic, I saved you, pulled you out of that sickness, gave you something pure and safe, something that could last forever. In the books girls are a lot more thankful, they fall in love quickly, and while I understand that part is fiction, it still hurts, the way you look at me with those eyes that haven’t softened yet, not the way they’re supposed to at least. But that will come. It has to come.

I realize I’m getting into my head again, Jesus that lunch really fucked me up, I need to relax. I walk over to grab my laptop from my desk and plop down onto my bed. I open up the live stream I have going on you in the basement, I just need to see you to calm down.

You changed into more of my clothes, you have my t-shirt on now, it’s huge on you, draping over your figure and reaching down to your knees that you have tucked up to your chest. Your notebook is laid out in front of you, one arm wrapped around your knees, the other tapping a pen against the scribbled on paper of the notebook. Your legs are peaking out, I can’t stop staring at the way your thighs push together and against your chest, they look so soft, God it’s been getting near impossible holding back from touching you. Shame floods me when I feel myself getting hard, I shift around in my bed, I shouldn’t be doing this yet, you aren’t ready, but, what you don’t know can’t hurt you, right? I try to hold back, I really do, but then you stretch your legs out in front of you and my shirt rides up so high on your thighs that I really can’t help it anymore. You’d be flattered, I just know it, the effect you have on me, any woman would be.

My hand slides under my waistband, my belt isn’t too tight and my hand slips past my boxers enough to where I don’t need to take them off yet. I try to stop it there, I palm myself, slowly, telling myself it’s enough, no need to go further, I can let this ride out. But I really don’t know if I can. You shift under your own weight, your butt pressing deeper into the fluffy blanket that’s laid over the whole bed. I want you on my lap wiggling Ike that, I’d grab your legs and make you straddle me, I want you on me so bad, under me too, us rolling around in bed, nipping and pulling at each other. You have no fucking idea the effect you have on me, your thighs peaking out like that, I want to bite them, bite you. You’d probably make soft little whimpers for me, I touch myself harder thinking about that, God I’m so hard for you, I wish you could see what you do to me. My boxers are getting in the way now, my hand is pumping faster and the elastic is holding me back. I quickly side my pants and boxers off and let them pool down at my ankles as I rub at myself more desperately. The pre-cum feels slick on my fingertips and I throw my head back whimpering as my fingers roll over the tip of my dick. I pump myself harder as I stare down at you, I’m so ashamed of myself right now, would you be disappointed in me? I know you’d eventually be flattered, but the idea of you somehow knowing about this twists my gut, it’s exciting too, you knowing how you really affect me, but no, no that would scare you and I know that. For now I have to do this by myself, watching you sitting there scribbling in your notebook is helping, but you don’t have to know about that. When you stand up, I get such a perfect view of your face, it’s like you know the camera is there, like you are watching me too. I can feel it building in my stomach, I go harder, faster, I feel my toes curl as I stare down into your eyes, God, fuck, I imagine you looking up at me, begging me to cum for you, on you. You want that? I know you do. I feel myself coming, hard, my toes curl and my other hand grips the sheets so hard I swear I almost rip them. All I can think of in this moment is you, the noises you’d be making for me, begging for me, your beautiful eyes rolled back. I make a mess all over my stomach and bedsheets. The shame comes back, quick, in a huge wave, and I desperately use the already soiled sheets to clean my stomach off before throwing them into the corner. I need to shower again.

After I rinse myself off, the shame doesn’t really go with it, but I clean myself the best I can, trim up my stubble a bit and don’t knick myself once. I want to look clean for you, make it obvious I made an effort, I want you to want me back. I rush to the kitchen and cut up some fruit, I want to see you so badly, I need to see you now, especially after what I did, I need to know if you somehow felt that connection. I glide down the stairs, fruit bowl in hand, smile beaming on my face so bright my cheeks burn.

*knock knock knock*

I don’t wait for any go-ahead but I know you aren’t busy, I checked the cameras before I went down and you were just sitting there. When I step in the room you are still just sitting there, exactly like when I last checked on you.

”I brought you a snack” I study you, can you tell that I just touched myself to the thought of you under me? I hope you can’t. “Tha- Thanks” your eyes dart to the fruit, then up to mine.“Is there a catch? What did you do to it?”I love that little fire you have inside of you, I hope I never have to snuff that out.“Nothing I promise you that, I just thought you deserved a treat, my sweetheart deserves something sweet right?”

I watch as you reach your shaky hand out and grab a slice, the juice drips down your lips and your tongue darts out to catch it, you’ve never looked so sexy, those soft lips, your wet warm tongue gliding over them, I’ve never been jealous of a piece of fruit before. I need your lips on mine so badly, I need to taste how sweet you are.

“Listen, as hard as this seems for you, I promise you, it is harder for me” You just stare back at me, I didn’t expect a response anyway. “Not just” I think about how to say this “It’s not just to scare you, none of this is, you know the real reason this is so hard for me? Why it’s harder for me than it ever will be for you? Because I am so in love with you, every second I hold back is torture, physical and mental” I step closer to you, you are still just watching me, but you stopped eating, the juice on your lips catches in the window light and it makes my hands tremble. I reach my hands out and grab each side of your face, still no reaction from you. “ I am going to kiss you now, okay?” You nod your head, I don’t know if you did it out of fear or want, and I hate myself for thinking this, but I don’t care right now, God forgive me, I just need this.

When our lips touch I swear to God I feel fireworks in my bones, your lips are just as soft as I imagined, and so warm. I can feel my beard scratching against your soft cheeks as I start to kiss harder, you aren’t really kissing back, you must be so nervous. When my tongue finally slides past the tight line your lips are making, my heart nearly explodes and I feel the need to touch myself all over again. You taste like sweet fruit juice and spit, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. I wonder if your pussy will be as sweet. When I feel your tongue wriggle under mine I savor it for just a couple more seconds before I pull away and place my forehead against yours.

“That was our first kiss” I really don’t know what else to say, that was so amazing, so perfect, I’m at a loss for words. “Thank you, thank you so much for that” You just nod at me. This changes everything, we kissed, we crossed that line, and now we don’t have to be so nervous around each other. Finally. “Wasn’t that just amazing? Did you feel that spark too?” I stare at you and wait for you to answer. “I asked you a question” My voice sounds on edge now and it makes me upset, this is a special moment, why can’t you just cooperate?

“Yes, yeah it was, but please no more”

My head jerks up and I smile at you. “Yeah of course no more, not right now at least, later though, at dinner tonight, we will eat together, like we did at lunch, like a real couple, and we will share food off our forks and wine out of our glasses, and we will kiss too. You want to keep me this soft? This happy? I know you can do it, just work with me here, and before you know it, this sad little basement will be a thing of the past, and we will think back on our first kiss and get nervous and excited all over again. This is going to be perfect, you’ll see” I peck you on your forehand and stand up to cross the room over to the locked cabinet I keep some of your extra stuff in. “ Want to kill some time before dinner? I already have it planned and it should be fast to whip up if you wanna maybe do a puzzle and relax?”

I know you like this kind of stuff, and the photo of the puzzle is of a beautiful forest landscape that has cute little creatures all over it. I sit down at the table and wave you over. “Come on, I don’t bite” You stand up, use the bottom of your t-shirt to wipe your mouth, walk over, and sit in the seat across from me. ”I like this photo, I miss the woods, I used to go on nature walks a lot you know?” I nod at you. “I know” And I pour the box all over the table. The pieces overlap and flip over each other, I quickly flip over the upside down pieces and look for the corners. “Do you like puzzles? I did them a lot as a kid, I would get upset, a lot, my mom used to say I have anger issues. My dad didn’t really care much, he enabled it more you know?” I don’t wait for a response, I just keep rambling. “And it would get bad, my dad would get angry and it would just make me angrier and, and my mom was really the only one there for me, she would sit me down and help me calm down, she’d pull out a puzzle, tell me not to get up until I finish” You still haven’t reached for any pieces. “It would help you know? All I’d be able to focus on was finishing that damn puzzle, by the time I was done I was more proud to be finished than I ever was mad about whatever got me upset. I miss her sometimes, she would have loved you, my dad would have too, I don't miss him though really.” I push a couple pieces your way. “My point is, this can calm you down, help me finish it?”

After a couple of minutes of me working on it alone, I watch you slide a piece into place across the table, you are doing it, and it’s working. After that you pick up a piece with a deer on it, the top half of it’s head, I watch your eyes dart over the table looking for a place to put it in. “Right here” I point my finger out and tap the place with the missing deer head right in front of me, I can tell my voice startled you. “Thanks” you click the piece into place and slink your hand back to your half of the table. I love this little scene, us working together on something, having a “thing” together, it’s beautiful, when we are finished I’m going to frame this. We both continue to snap the puzzle into place in silence, that’s fine with me for now, we need some time to relax with each other, but I will admit all I’m thinking about is that kiss I’m going to get after dinner.

[plushbones]

I have to pack because I’m moving back to my apartment for college, but I also have to work on this next chapter, but I also have to read this book but I also have to finish this TV show, but I also have to play Webkinz. I’m so busy😔

[plushbones]

Me and this small iPad keyboard I’ve had since 2011 against the world

[plushbones]

Haters:

“She on that damn laptop all day, socal media, smh”

Me:

*typing out a detailed chapter about a man touching himself*

[plubells]

i am going to write today. i am going to write today. i am going to write today. i am not going to nap all day. i will write. even if it’s just a sentence.

[soulbinder90]

"Write drunk, edit sober."

- Hemingway.

This is very based.

[plushbones]

This is my method

[plushbones]

I WISH I COULD DRAW SO BADLY, and I know I could practice but every other hobby is taking my life over and idk if I could afford another. I JUST WANNA DRAW FOR MY OWN FIC

[theaftersundown]

*writes two paragraphs after months of literally nothing and it took three hours*

[plushbones]

Last day of work for the summer RAHHH, and now I have like 2 weeks off before school😔 let’s hope I write as much as possible

[plushbones]

Guys I just got in a car accident and their other car fucking flipped over, everyone is fine, no one in the hospital. I’m basically just insanely sore and gonna be laid up all day. Maybe this is good for my writing😨 (I’m coping from totaling my car)

[plushbones]

I need to actually give myself a writing schedule cause I can’t do this ten times a day or once every three weeks back and forth

[plushbones]

Prom queen

A fanfic based on the song "Prom queen- Insane Clown Posse"

TW: kidnapping, stalking, manipulation, toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, unreliable narrator (check tags)

Posted on ao3 under: plushbones

↓ (chapters 1,2,3,4 all posted on my account) ↓

💬 0  🔁 2  ❤️ 4 · Chapter 3 & 4 Chapter 3: The dance It was about four hours until I heard you speak to me, other than the random

(first time writing and posting on here so give me some grace)

↓ Chapter 5 & 6 ↓

Chapter 5: The day after

I decided to let you sleep in this morning. I hear you start to stir at around 10 AM, that’s when I finish up our breakfast. I made us chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and buttered toast. I hope you like it all, you really need food inside your stomach. I brought you a glass of orange juice too, you must be thirsty, when i went to check on you in the middle of the night i still heard crying through the door, I wanted to come in and give you a glass of water but I didn’t feel like startling you again. I grab the tray and place the two plates I made for us on it, the glasses of orange juice too. I walk to your door and knock a few times, you are fully awake by now, I can hear you pacing. I knock again twice, sharp, before I crack the door open and poke my head though.

”Good morning, I made you breakfast, I hope you like orange juice” I give you a light smile as I step all the way into the room and set the tray down on the table in the middle of your room. “Are you hungry?, I mean, I know you must be, but, do you feel up to eating? I really don’t want you getting sick. I want you to have energy for the day” You stare at the plates, I can hear your stomach, you need this food. I grab one plate and walk it over to you, you are still in bed, sitting up grabbing the blankets and wrapping them around your chest. I place your plate on the concrete floor in front of the mattress and take a couple steps back.

“You know when it’s Monday and school comes back, they’ll notice I’m gone. And my parents probably already have, you fucking psychopath” Your words are so small but full of venom, your insult comes out weak and wobbly, but it still lands. It still made me sick to my stomach. You pick at your plate, not taking a bite of the food I worked so hard to cook for you.

“You know I’m not stupid right” I spit back defensively. “I took care of that already. I had your phone, I know your schedule, I know what you like to do. I think I would know how to make it seem like you didn’t want to be found” I’m probably telling you too much information about my plan, but I can’t stop defending myself from your ideas of me getting caught, like I’m sloppy, like I didn’t plan this all perfectly just so I can have you all to myself. “You’re eighteen, and it’s not that big of a secret that you wanted away from this town, you talked about it every chance you got, I bet a couple of your friends will even be happy for you, finally living your dream of leaving this place, all of them, behind. You finally did it, congrats” I give you a half smile.

I stand up now, still watching you hard, you still dig into and play with the food in front of you. “Just eat, don’t think about that world anymore, it doesn’t concern you now” And this time you listen, you actually pick up the fork, take some eggs and shovel them into your mouth, after a second, you drink some juice and take a bite of some pancakes. My heart swells and my stomach twists, I can’t stay upset with you for long. I sit down at the table and stare at you as you sit on the corner of the bed still nibbling at your food. I pick up my fork and start to eat too, this scene makes me smile, us both eating the breakfast that I cooked, this beautiful domestic scene unfolding, I want to run up to you and carry you to the table, hold your hand as we eat together, maybe feed you off of my fork, but I don’t think you are ready for that yet, sadly.

After breakfast I take both of our plates to the kitchen to clean them off, locking the door behind me. As I scrub the plates with scalding hot water my hands go numb, I can’t stop thinking about what you said, “Fukcing psychopath” I say it under my breath, testing the insult on my tongue, seeing what it’s like to hear it out loud one more time. It makes me feel sick all over again, I know you don’t understand it yet, you’ll learn soon enough that I am the source of anything you want, anything you need.

Once you start to behave I can reward you, with pieces from your old life, and then you’ll see, I am what gives you happiness, calmness, you just need to behave. The moment I see an ounce of that, I’ll reward you, and the more you behave, the more I’ll cave, it’s so dangerous. I hope you don’t pick up on how quickly I’d fall to your will, that could be bad, it could ruin the whole plan I have laid out, you can’t know how weak I am to you, not until you’ve bent exactly how much I need you to. We need to be weak for each other, that’s love.

After I clean up the kitchen, I head back downstairs to see you again. I’m hopeful that you’ll be much more calm on a full stomach. I knocked a couple times before coming in, I didn’t wait for you to welcome me in, but I wanted you to know that I’m coming, you need that illusion of privacy.

When I enter the room you are still curled up on the mattress that lies on the floor in the corner of the room. Soon, when you start to settle into this life, I’ll get you a mattress frame, all new beautiful soft blankets, I’ll even let you help me pick them out. Once you realize your true place, the one that will actually keep you safe, I’ll get you anything and everything you ask for.

“I know this might seem like a lot, too much maybe, but I promise you, you’ll be able to see how beautiful this life will be, our life together. You’ll finally be seen, and not just looked at, actually seen.”

I step towards you, not much, just a bit closer.

“Not just empty eyes with lustful thoughts like in those hallways, I can’t wait to show you how well I really know you, you’ll be good for me right, so I can give you the rewards you deserve, the comfort.”

I’ve always heard that when you put a frog in boiling water it jumps out, but if you heat the water slowly enough, it will never even realize it’s being boiled. That’s how I have to take over, slow ,calculated, measured. I already freaked you out enough by bringing you here; the next steps have to be perfect , making you think you have the reins.That’s why I brought gifts today: a notebook, pens in every color, and a few pencils too. I’ve watched you write in classes for so long now. I wish I was able to find your old notebook, the leather bound black one that you scribbled in all day for years. I’m sure it’s been replaced a couple times now. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to read your thoughts that deep. I will soon though, you’ll write again and you’ll let me read it too.

I hold the notebook and pencil case out to you.“Here, I know it’s not like your old one but…”

You don’t take the notebook or pens, I just set them at your feet, your knees are still held to your chest tight. You’re looking at me this time, really looking. That’s progress.

“I just wanted you to be able to get your thoughts out again, it’s important. Especially if you don’t feel up to talking to me without being purely hostile”

You look down at the notebook, it’s close to your old one. Not the exact same but close enough to where you could tell I tried.

“I don’t want it” I follow your eyes as they dart to the notebook, then the wall. I can tell you are lying of course you are, you’d do anything for this small bit of potential freedom. Maybe I’ll let you keep it to yourself. I will, that’s what you’ll think and that’s really all that matters. You have this small escape, you get to feel more comfortable. And then I’ll get to read your beautiful mind uncensored, I have cameras obviously, and you are a heavy sleeper, I’ll be able to take it from you when I check on you as you sleep.

“You do want it, I know you do. Please take it. No limits really. I want you comfortable, happy, writing like you used to-” That makes you wince, maybe you’re just not realizing how much I watched you. “Try it, just for tonight, I promise it will make you feel better”

“If you want me comfortable, let me the fuck out of here” I hate how rude you are being, I just gave you a gift, I bought all that myself, bought, I didn’t even steal it this time, you are worth it to me.

I stand up and walk to the door, before I get too upset and do something I would regret. I am not my father and you will not push me to behave like him. Even when you are begging for it. “Just write, be thankful for what I’m giving you, I’m giving you an opportunity here, privacy-” I lie. “-and a way to get your thoughts down, all of them, not just telling me what you think I want to hear or using that beautiful mouth if yours to curse me. But what you are actually thinking”. All you do is nod. I’m smart enough to know that’s is a win for me, at least for now.

I don’t return much all day after that, other than to drop off lunch and dinner, and to ask if you needed anything. You didn’t talk much, didn’t ask for one thing, but you weren’t yelling harsh words at me either, and that’s progress. I decided leaving you alone with the notebook was the best way to make you write, I need to keep building that illusion of privacy or I won’t be able to get inside of your perfect mind like I need to.

I watched you that evening, from the cameras. You actually did start to write, I can’t stop watching. You look so different like this. Calm, focused, beautiful. I’m so happy you love my gift, I haven’t seen you act like this since before you came here, with me. And now I get to be the one to bring that smile back. It might not look like much, you might not even understand it, but this, this shows you are willing to be happy here. You’ll be happy with me, I can’t wait to watch you smile under me, I’ll make you feel amazing. I won’t just make you smile from material items anymore, my hugs, my kiss, my fingers, my body. They will be in charge of your pleasure soon enough. I can’t wait to see you cry under me, begging for my touch and praise, and I’ll give it to you every time.

Later, when I go back in to say goodnight, I don’t bring up the notebook. I pretend not to notice the way your eyes dart toward it like you’re afraid I’ll take it back. But I’m not going to, not yet. You need to believe it’s yours, just like you’ll to eventually believe you’re mine.

I bring you a glass of water and a blanket, a soft one, pale blue. It’s not much, but I know you used to sleep with something just like it. I saw it in one of your old Instagram posts. The way you smiled wrapped in it. I spent hours scrolling back until I found it. I searched stores until I found one just like it. I even slept with it a few nights so it would smell like me, like comfort. Like home. You don’t say thank you. That’s okay. You will.

I sit near the mattress but not too close. I know you’re still scared. You keep your body curled up like you’re trying to disappear into yourself, but I can tell you’re not as tense as before. You’re breathing slower. That’s progress too.

“I’ll leave the light dim tonight,” I say softly, I start to tuck you in “Just enough to see if you need to get up. I remember how you used to sleep with a light on I don’t want you waking up scared. I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to love you.” Your eyes dart away at the word love, I wonder if you’ve been hurt in the past, that must be why.

You don’t look at me, but your shoulders relax. Just a little. You’re listening.

“Goodnight” I whisper. I close the door behind me and press my forehead to it. I almost don’t lock it. Almost.

But you’re not ready for that yet.

Tomorrow will be the day that we actually make progress. Maybe tonight I’ll get a chance to read some of that notebook, if you sleep deep enough, I pray that you do. I’m not sleeping tonight, I’ll be watching the cameras, I need you to sleep comfortably, not just so I can read our notebook, I’m not selfish. I want you to feel rested, feel like yourself again. That’s what I really want.

Chapter 6: All settled in

I was up all night, I didn’t sleep. I waited for you to drift off, it took you awhile, you tossed and turned for a couple of hours, but then it happened. I watched the rise and fall of your chest fall into a more even pattern, you stopped sifting around as much, and your mouth slipped open, just slightly, that’s how I knew you weren’t faking it. When I watched you sleep before all of this, during your old life, your mouth always peaked open, that’s when I knew I could get close to the window. Now that I have you here though, now I can do so much more. So, that’s when I knew it’s the perfect time for me to grab the journal.

I made sure I was extra quiet, you are a very heavy sleeper but still, I wanted to disturb you as little as possible. Edging down the stairs slowly to the basement door, the stairs still manage to squeak under my weight. I unlock and open the door, that stays quiet for me, but I bump my head on the ceiling on the way in. My eyes dart to your body lying on the mattress, you stir, I pause, you’re still asleep. I make my way over to the bedside table, I can see the journal, you already took the time to write your name on the cover. The ink is barely visible against the black leather, but I can see it, I’d be able to make your name out anywhere. I pick up the notebook and brush my fingers over the indentation the pen left when you wrote your name, I can feel each letter under my finger. You must have been pushing down hard with the pen, nerves maybe. I’m getting distracted, I grab the notebook and slink my way out of the basement, locking the door behind me again. When I get upstairs I finally open it.

Your handwriting is frantic and messy, but still so you, I’d be able to identify this as my angel’s handwriting even behind the fast scribbles. Some doodles are in here too, angry ones, the lines are harsh and the drawings are of broken, sharp things. Each and everyone of them, a part of you, one you think is hidden away, just yours, that makes this mean so much more. I hold the journal to my chest, it feels almost warm, all of your words and pictures behind it. I flip the book open again and start to read.

Written right across the top of the page:

“Night two down here”

I wonder if the next gift I should give you is a calendar, I’d never thought of that before but you might enjoy it. That might be something else you’d be afraid of me taking away. I could hold this over your head, not that that’s all I’m thinking about but still, you’d like it and it’d be useful to me. I want you to have those little things that make you more comfortable. I push that thought away, bookmark the idea to think of what calendars you’d like, and read on.

”I’ve been trying to keep track of days, that seems like one way to stay sane down here, I recognize his face. not just from him asking me to prom, but before all that, I saw him in the halls, I wish I had paid more attention, wish I saw the way he looked at me. thinking back it was so clear, I hope my friends paid enough attention for it to be obvious to them”

They definitely didn’t. your friends were somehow more clueless than you. I’ve been paying attention to that though, making sure no one knows, and I was exactly right. They were happy for you, worried yes, of course, but they thought this was your plan, you’ve talked about leaving this town endlessly, running away, being on your own, away from this town. To them, you are finally living the dream, how beautiful, I’m happy for you. Because your life did get better, here with me.

I read on, you only wrote a couple more things, small notes, things you noticed around the basement. “The window is missing one screw” Yeah and it’s still glued shut and then painted over, you thinking I’d miss details like this really pisses me off, but I cool myself down and think of how different you’ll be, how soft, when you realize I did this all for you. Back to the journal. “I hope that if i don’t make it out of here, my family and friends can find this” This insinuation that I’d hurt you is starting to make me a little angry too, what do you think of me? If I really wanted to hurt you, you’d be hurt by now anyway, it’s very obvious I could have. The rest of the journal is filled with little doodles, trees, flowers, vines ,all different animals, I mean, the sketches aren’t that good but I can tell what you were going with each one. It’s all nature, you must miss the outside, you are so cute, maybe I’ll get you some posters. I know, I know, it doesn’t really compare to the real thing, but that’s okay for now, and soon enough, when you get closer to me, more open, we can go outside together. I bought us a beautiful picnic basket, it came with wine glasses and utensils, and a blanket big enough for us to lay out and have space, though I’ll stay stuck to your side the whole time when this happens. We’ll go outside a lot soon, you just need to adjust first. I hope you can be patient for me until then.

I set the journal back down, same exact spot you left it in, you need this little illusion of privacy, I think it will help you warm up quicker. I step out of the room, I don’t really have to put much effort into sneaking out, you haven’t moved once yet, I doubt you will wake up now and if you do, I’m on my way out, it doesn’t really matter much anyway. I lock the door behind me and walk back up the stairs. I head into my room, there are pictures of you all over, tasteful though, not too much, not like my parents would have cared if it was, but we also don’t have to worry about them interfering anymore, but I know they are proud, and I know they’d love you. I keep the pictures of you soft and tasteful for on reason, you. When I finally move you up here and we live our happy life upstairs, the one where I come home from work and you are sitting on the couch just waiting to jump on me and tell me how much you love me. When we are living that way you’ll see my room, and I have no intent on scaring you when I’ve already made it to that point, but that’s in the future.

If it was up to me I’d have the whole walls plastered with pictures, all of the shelves full of everything I’ve ever taken from you. I can’t do that, sadly, so what I do have is my box. Filled with little things you’ve left behind before, things I’ve taken before out of your locker, it’s really easy to tell anyone with keys I can’t get my locker open and there it is. Your locker, your makeup bag, hair bands, an old gym shirt. That’s where I saw the notebook for the first time, I wish I just took it. All I took from your locker was a couple hair ties, an eyeliner, and a shirt that was stuffed in the back, under some papers. I was sure you wouldn’t miss it, and you didn’t. Now I have it here, doesn’t smell like you anymore but that’s fine. Other than that in the box it’s just some extra pictures, ones of you in bed, with friends (they are scribbled out of course) and some old ripped out papers you tried to throw away, it’s not garbage, nothing you touch is garbage. Looking through all of these things makes me feel so good, so close to you, but now that I really have you here, in my basement, I would burn this box if it meant keeping you warm, nothing else matters anymore besides you. I check my cameras one more time before going to bed, you’re still sleeping, so peacefully, God I love watching you when you are soft, guard down, it’s the most beautiful sight, the image itself lulls me to sleep, and I dream of our beautiful domestic bliss in the future.

It’s 7:00 am when I wake up the next morning, I hate mornings, but I need to wake up early so I can get things done for you. I drag my feet the whole way to the bathroom, splash some water on my face and turn on the shower, I decide to make it cold, I really need to wake up. After I wash my hair and my body, I shave the stubble off my cheeks and neck, only nicking myself a couple times. I stand there in the cold water for a while, just staring at the wall, and when you finally move up here, and we start to live our lives, we can shower together, but I’ll keep those showers warm for you. You’d let me wash you, clean you all over, helping you wash your hair, and I’d let you wash me and we’d laugh when you aren’t able to reach the top of my head, I can’t wait to have you constantly in my arms, I know I’m clingy, but you are just so perfect, the most beautiful thing I’ve laid eyes on, and once you see how much I love you, I’ll never let that go, but I think you’ll love the clinginess.

Getting out of the shower and toweling off I grab my phone to check the time, you look beautiful as my lock screen, it’s 8:00, I was in there too long, I really need to get going, you are going to get a few surprises today, I just want to see a smile on your face again. I step into my room and throw on whatever it really doesn’t matter what I look like to anyone else. After I double check the basement doors are locked and watch you sleeping on the cameras for a bit I grab my keys and head out, every song on the radio reminds me of you. First, I head to the department store. God I hate these places, the bright lights, the pop music blaring through the speakers, but for you, I make sacrifices. I’m getting you a new blanket, soft and fluffy, some new sweatshirts and fuzzy socks too, the basement can get cold at night. I also decided you deserve a treat, I pick up a couple things I know you like, some candy, a few snacks, I got you drinks too, and I grab a dark green basket to put it all in. After I loaded my cart I went to look at the calendars. I scan over them, looking for one that’s nature related, something with animals maybe. I see a really pretty one, it’s fish, beautiful ones, in an aquarium, they remind me of you. I throw it into the cart and head to the register. The self checkout is closed and I want to scream, I don’t want to deal with anyone today, just you. I get in line anyway, these things are important and there’s no time to go anywhere else, it’s already 9:30 and I want you up no later than 11:00 but I’d prefer sooner. When I finally make it to the register the cashier starts to scan the snacks, then the blanket. When I go to pay, so close to getting out of there without uttering a word, the cashier speaks.

”Is it your girlfriend’s birthday? These are cute” She holds up the socks and sweatshirt and smiles. The word girlfriend makes me feel warm inside, I can’t wait to show you all these lovely gifts. I shake my head at her. “No, I just figured she deserves something special, she hasn’t been feeling like herself” I decided not to correct her on the girlfriend part, it made me happy and you will be someday soon, I just have to wait until you are ready. She smiles at me again, I wonder if you’d be jealous, I’d burn this place down if you wanted. “Well aren’t you the sweetest, I know she’ll love it, girls love surprises like this” She finishes putting my things into bags and hands them to me. I hope she is right, I really want you to like this, I need you to. I walk to my car, placing the bags on the passenger seat and starting the car not even bothering to turn on the radio this time, I just want to rush home to you. I imagine the future again, rushing home from work to you, but instead of going to the basement and waking you up like I am today, I’ll get home and you’ll be on the couch waiting for me, open arms, and I’ll crawl into them, and you’ll hold me so soft so sweet, and you’ll smell like home.

Pulling into the garage I start to get giddy, I’m so excited to show you everything, to see that look on your face, I wish I had gotten a camera, I have my phone yeah, but digital pictures have such a nicer feel to them. I walk into the house and set the bags down, pulling the tags off of everything and setting it all up in the basket I got, I want to watch you as you look through it seeing all the things I got you how happy can make you.

I walk down into the basement; basket in arms, I’ll wake you up soft and slow, I wish I could wake you up with kisses, I just don’t think you are ready for that yet, but God do you look beautiful this morning. It’s 10:37 am when I walk into the room, 10:47 am when I decide to wake you up.

“Good morning beautiful, I brought you something special today” You stir awake for a second and then spring up, you clutch the blankets and hug your knees to your chest, it’s adorable. I hand the basket over to you before you can say anything else. “I hope you like it, I figured you might miss nature , the free outside, so I got you a calder like that, and now you can track your days. I guessed on the size of the sweatshirt and socks, but I know I’m right. I hope you don’t mind that they’re a little oversized” You look up at me dazed, maybe you are impressed by my choices, I did make sure to pick out things I know you’d love. You dig through the basket delicately, first you pull out the sweatshirts and blanket, setting it down next to you on the bed, then the socks. When you get to the food and drinks you look up at me again “All this is for me? To keep down here, eat when I want?” I nod at you and look back down at the basket. you pull out the calendar now, hands brushing over it. “A fish calendar?” You look confused. “Well I know you love the outdoors, and animals, the fish are beautiful like you, and plus I figured it might help if you were able to keep track of days down here, you know?” You look up at me again, I’m waiting for you to thank me, jump in my arms and kiss me (though I know that part is unrealistic for now) but you don’t.

“Did you seriously think getting me a calendar, one that’s covered in beautiful animals stuck in a cage, would make me feel better? Really? Are you that fucking delusional?” I wince and step back at your words, did you actually say that? God I wish this was just a nightmare, I tried so hard, got you things you were supposed to like. The fish are beautiful, their tank is too, they love being in there, they are happy like that. I don’t understand why you are so upset, why you can’t just be grateful. I swallow my anger. “I’m trying here, hard, do you see that at all, or are you really going to let your fucking emotions overshadow that” My fists ball in my hands so tight I’m sure my nails will make my palms bleed. “I know you like nature, you missed it. They aren’t stuck in a cage, they are being taken care of, they can’t take care of themselves. Don’t twist it to be something it isn’t, something gross. If you are going to be negative I’ll take it away and you’ll have no way of knowing how many days go by, and I won’t tell you, won’t give you any hints.”

That gets you. “No, wait” You hold the calendars to your chest. “I’m- I’m sorry please don’t take the calendar, I like it, really” I take a step closer and smile. “And what do we say when we get a gift” You stare back at me, it takes you a second to think. “Thank you” Your voice is shakey.”You are so welcome beautiful, but please, no more harsh language. Next time you do that the calendar is gone. You’d have to earn it back after that. Is that clear” You nod. “So I’ll leave you for a bit, you can check out all your new things, have some snacks, and calm down” I step back towards the door but I stay facing you. “I’ll be back at 12:00 for lunch, I’ll cook you something special” I look at the wall and realize I didn’t put a clock down here. That will be your next gift. “And I’ll get you a clock too, if you behave at lunch, no more dirty mouth, okay?” You nod your head “Yeah, okay”

“Oh, and angel?” You look up at me. “I know I’ve been giving you a lot of alone time, I want to let you get to know your space, on your own terms, but that won’t last long. Everyday you are down here it gets harder not to stay close, I’m sorry if I can’t control myself for much longer” You don’t respond, I knew you wouldn’t, I don’t wait, just turn around and leave the room, locking the door. I have to go get our lunch started.

[plushbones]

↓ Chapter 7 ↓

The stairs creaked loud under my weight as I jogged up the stairs. I’m so excited to cook for you again, I mean I’ve cooked for you before, but you didn’t eat much and all I did was pour batter on a pan, fry an egg, and butter some toast. Not much effort on my part to be fair, but I knew you wouldn’t touch it anyway (not till I told you that you have to). This time I’m going all out, I know it’s gross, but I’ve been through your trash, not for anything dirty, but now I get to know what meals you like. I decided to make you homemade pasta, with red sauce, with a nice crusty homemade bread. Nothing like that store bought, plastic wrapped, bread I’ve given you before. 

I mix the water, sugar and yeast into a bowl and measure out enough flour for both the pasta and the bread while I wait for the yeast to bloom. After a couple of minutes I put the rest of the ingredients into the mixer, I watched the dough form together, sticking and pulling away from the walls, getting torn and ripped before it was mashed together by the spinning dough hook. I stare down at it for a while. The dough is almost the same color as my pasty flesh, it looks scarred like me too, it forms into a stringy, crudely shaped ball, that’s when I turn off the mixer, reach in, and start to work with my hands. The dough is soft, it makes me think of you, your skin, how soft and tender you are when you allow yourself to be seen and felt by me. I kneed and grip all over. Setting the soft, now smooth, dough ball into a bowl I cover it and let rise for an hour. I use the rest of the flour I pulled out to make a pile on the counter top and crack the eggs in the middle. This dough forms together fast enough and I set it aside to let it rest. 

The knife makes a sharp, metallic, scrape as I rip it from the block. I pull everything else I need out of the fridge. I grabbed the cutting board and slammed my fist down on the side of the knife smashing into the garlic and mincing it into a paste. Slicing into the tomatoes makes the red juice leak down and seep into the wooden cutting board. It looks like the color of watered down blood and it makes me pause. This is supposed to be me time, relaxing, making a meal for my angel, and yet everything reminds me of the gross things I had to do to get you here, all the loose ends I tied up. I shake the thought out of my head and the shiver follows down my spine. I start cutting at the tomatoes again, harder now, uneven and crushing their soft flesh as I cut too fast. It doesn’t matter, they don’t need to be perfectly cut, just good enough, I want, no, need you to fill your stomach, feel full and happy, you seem weak now. I throw all the nasty thoughts out of my head as I finish the sauce. 

After waiting for the dough to rise I place it in the oven, the kitchen smells like yeast and garlic. I make sure to turn the air on and open up the vents, I want the warm homey scent to trail down to you. I want it to smell like home down there, our own beautiful domestic bliss. As I wait for the bread to bake I run the pasta through the machine. It slices through the soft dough, pinching it, cutting it, into thin strips of pale yellow noodles. I gather them all and coil them up on the cutting board and turn around to face the stove. The sauce on the stove bubbles and leaves small red splats all over the stove top, I move the pot off the burner and cover it with a lid. I grab another pot out of the cabinets and start to boil the water. I must have been zoned out for at least ten minutes before the water starts to boil over and sizzles on the stove and breaks me out of it. I drop the noodles into the pot and the water splashes after them, jumping up and biting at my fingers and the scar on my wrist.

Letting the bread bake and noodles boil I start to set the table. A white lace table cloth, with the nice black placemats my mom used to only bring out when she wanted to impress my dad, and I really want to impress you. I set out candles and wine glasses, God I can’t help but shake as I set out our dishes I’m so nervous and excited for later, bringing you upstairs, that’s real trust, that’s love. After another twenty five minutes all of the food is done, the table is perfectly set, our sweet little date is going to be just that, perfect. I rush to the bathroom and check myself out, I look amazing, so happy and whole, that’s because of you. My black dress shirt fits tight on me, I haven’t worn this since the 10th grade and I’ve grown at least four inches and gained about twenty pounds of muscle. The pants are a bit short on my legs too, I can see my ankle peaking out from under them, it’s okay, that’s in right now, I think at least. I start working on my hair, pushing it back with just a bit of whatever hair product I can find in the messy cabinets. I need a hair cut badly, the shaggy dirty blonde hair makes sweat get into my eyes, the greens of my eyes are practically glowing in front of the bloodshot white-pink backdrop.  My hair reaches down to my jawline now, and speaking of my jawline, I should probably shave , but then I remember overhearing you sometime last month talking to your friend about how you like facial hair on a guy, so maybe I’ll skip that for now. I splash water on my face one last time before leaving the bathroom and heading back to the kitchen to  check on the food. 

The house smells beautiful, and I know it must have traveled down to you. The table looks just as beautiful as the house smells, it’s lovely, the soft lace tablecloth, the candles, the wine glasses. You are going to be so happy. The chain attached to an anchor under the table pulls me out of the fantasy, it might scare you, you might even get upset at me, but I’ll explain. This is how it has to be for now. I don’t want you to get confused though, lunch up here, that’s a step, a big one, even if you’re chained. And if you pass this test, you’ll get one step further, maybe I’ll let you sleep up here, with me.  

I walk down the stairs as fast as I can manage without alerting you, when the door creaks open you are already off the bed, sitting on the ground near desk, writing in your journal, you either haven’t noticed me or you are choosing to ignore me, I can’t tell if that’s good or bad, but at least you feel safe enough to face your back to me. “Um- Hey” I clear my throat. “So, angel, I did something special for us, this will be a great opportunity to get to know one another. Lunch, upstairs, you want to go upstairs don’t you? Maybe look out the window, get some air that’s not so stuffy” You just stare at me. “Answer me” My voice takes a hard edge I don’t like and I try to fix it. “Please, just answer me with your words and then we can go upstairs together” Your eyes are lowered now. “Yes, yes please I’d, I’d really like to stay upstairs, please” You sound so nervous it’s sweet, your voice is soft and cracking. “No honey,  not stay, but for this afternoon, yes, and if you behave, I promise you’ll be up here before you know it” I reach my hands out to you, palms up as I make grabby hands at you. “Come on sweetheart, can’t have the lunch I worked so hard on getting cold, right?” You take my hands and I help you to your feet. I stare at you for a moment, my hands on both of your shoulders. “You are so beautiful, you know that? I am the luckiest guy in the world” I bend down and kiss your forehead. I like this height difference we have, I picture you begging me to bend down and let you kiss me, and I tease you and make you work for it, jumping up, on your tippy toes. I turn around to face the door as I grab one of your hands, dragging you out behind me.

You walk slow up the stairs, it makes the cracks and squeaks sound ten times louder. As we make it to the hallway before the kitchen I turn around to face you. “Cover your eyes” I smile at you, big and bright, showing off my dimples and sharp messed up teeth, my mother said it was charming before. Your shaky hands go up to your face and cover your eyes lightly, I put my hand over yours and push down harder. “No peeking” I’m sure you can hear the nervous excitement in my voice. As I lead you all the way into the kitchen I slowly lower my hands, yours are still stuck to your face. “You can look now” I reach out and grab your wrists, softly lowering your hands so you can see all I’ve done for you. 

“Pasta, and red sauce, and look, even homemade bread, I know it’s your favorite, right?” You look shocked, I think it’s in a good way, I’ve never been great at reading emotions but I’m getting better because of you. “Do you like the candles? Want any wine? Here sit, sit” I motion to the seat directly across from mine and nod. I sit down first and you follow, you stare across the table at me, over the flowers in the middle. “This is…How did you even know all of this?” Your eyes dart to the chain and anchor on the floor. Why would that be your takeaway from this? “Really? That’s all you have to say? I already told you” I stand up, fast, my hands slam down on the table harder than I’d like to admit and cause the glasses to jump. “I know you, I’ve watched you, I know you better than anyone else ever did out there, I made your favorite meal, got wine, the good wine too not some shit in a box and-“  

“Im sorry” 

now that snaps me out of it, did you just apologize to me? I try hard to keep the smile from my face but I doubt I’m doing a good job. “What?” I walk around the table to you and kneel down, grabbing both of your hands. “Please angel, what did you say? Did you- did you mean that?” You just nod down at me. I don’t care anymore, I can’t hold it back, I pull you into my arms and hug you hard, maybe too hard, I kiss your forehead and grab your ankle. Putting the chain on, not too tight, never. Then I stand up, brush my clothes off and walk back to my seat. “I accept your apology, beautiful” I gesture to the empty plate and wine glasses and start to pour myself a glass. “Want me to fix you a plate?” You don’t answer and just reach out for the bowl of noodles, I reach across the table and grab your wrist “Let me fix you a plate” You drop your hand and pull it back into your lap as I place the pasta on your plate with a piece of bread. 

After 12 or so minutes of nothing but mouth noises and plates clattering, you start to get more comfortable, asking me to pass the bread when you want more, eating the pasta without your eyes darting to me all nervous and adorable. You finished almost your whole plate. You are probably ready for questions now, but not to answer them, I already know everything I need to know about you, but to ask them, you can ask me whatever you want now, I want you to know me as well as I know you.

“So-” You don’t stop eating but you slow down a bit, eyes looking up over your fork. “Anything you want to ask me? I’m an open book for you doll, we both have to be for this to work, you know?” You pause a second, I can practically see the wheels turning in your head as you think. “Define anything? Open book? You promise you won’t- get upset at all?” I shake my head. “Nope, baby I won’t lie to you, not unless it’s to protect you” You think for a second again. “Okay, fine. I got one” I lean forward like getting those five inches closer will let me your voice absorb into me. 

“Why- um-“ You look down again, I hate when you do that. “Look at me, it’s okay, I told you, you can ask anything, don’t be nervous” Your eyes meet mine again and I smile as you continue. “Why me, and how long will I be in the basement and- and” Your voice starts to crack and break. I want to stand up and run to you, hold your face and tell you it’s okay to cry, hold you into my chest while you sob, but I can’t do that, wouldn’t help much. “And will you ever let me- go home?” This question makes me straighten up, home? I know you are a wishful thinker, but how many times do I need to explain you are better off here, more safe, more happy, more taken care of , mine. I don’t want to focus on that question now, so I’ll stick to the first two. “Well for one, you are stunning, perfect really, did you know that you glow?” You stare at me, face still cracked. “I know you don’t see it, but I’ll make you see it soon enough, and as for how long, honey, I’m sorry-” You start to shake now, lightly, it’s subtle, I barely catch it. “Love takes time” I see a tear roll down your face as you try to hold it in. “I know, it’s scary down there right? Cold and lonely?” You nod at me. “And you don’t want that right” You nod again harder this time. “Then prove it, behave, work with me, and every night can be like this”

I walk over to you and you flinch as I bend down to your level, I don’t like that. I unchain your ankle and grab your hand. “I hope you enjoyed our lunch date” I help you out of your chair and stare at you a little longer. “I promise babe, the more you listen, behave, the more this happens, the longer the chain gets” I lead you down back the same hall you came from, back down the same stairs. You look so cute here, barefoot against the cold floor of the basement, changed back into the baggy clothes I got you. “I love you so much, I just need you to be thankful enough for that, I just need to trust you, I’ll be back down soon baby, don’t miss me too much” I can swear I hear you whimper behind the door when I lock it shut, I sit there for awhile, back to the door just listening to your breathing, pretending I can feel your heat.

[tokkibean]

every day i struggle between the choice of writing or ao3-ing or tumblr-ing before i inevitably have to sleep and it's a terrible terrible struggle

[landminekun]

a knife .ᐣ are you flirting with me .ᐣ