#+ your best friene and the man you love. can now barely look at you let alone talk to you. but he has no problem w looking at/talking to/

[aro-ortega]

constantly thinking about lonely!ortega

[calholic]

HEY POOKIE BEAR i love ur writing sm ur acc one of my fav accounts 😋😋

anyways i was wondering if you wld write smth where the reader is the guitarist of a well known band (like tom knows who she is) and is kinda like a female ver of tom, like she has the same kind of personality and she’s known for being flirty and a bit of a player and tom has like a fat crush on her bc he thinks that’s so hot 😋 and then he meets her at some point and he’s kinda shocked by how confident she is like she’s not stuttering and shi like other girls he talks to 🤭 anyways then she plays hard to get for a while but it ends in them being together??

T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you never gave your heart to anyways, not until you met a cocky guitarist

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, cigarettes

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omgee pookie thx xoxo 😘 anywayssss i had like 1 brain cell writing this and it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks so yay i’m finally posting this.

you loved the thrill of concerts and being on tour, new man in bed every night, lots of alcohol and dozens of phone numbers being passed around. you could never be contained and you were proud of that fact. being invited to parties was easy since you were in a band, even clubs would let you in with no ID. some would disapprove of your lifestyle but you didn’t care cuz fuck them right? you didn’t care for much, not boys, school, or a anything. you only cared for guitar, it was your passion, your dream. you loved being in a band too but would slack rehearsals sometimes, not without being scolded by lilli though.

“late again,” she said. “hungover, don’t talk,” you said walking past her. you went to a party yesterday and went a little too crazy on the drinks. “there are consequences to your actions ______, stop drinking so much,” said malik, the drummer. “whatever, mom,” you said picking up your guitar. you hated to admit it but you did have a drinking problem, you just couldn’t stop after one you know? you went to go stand by the bassist mery, she was your best friend and the only one that understood you. “anyways, let’s get started,” said lilli. you guys started rehearsal and it went pretty well. you guys all gathered at the end since lilli had some announcements. “we’re finally starting our europe tour!” she enthusiastically announced. “woohoo,” you said sarcastically. she rolled her eyes and turned to the others for questions. “where are we going in europe?” asked mery.

“i only remember the manager saying something about germany,” she said. “when are we starting?” you asked. “next month! we have little time to prepare so i expect you all to show up to rehearsals,” she said looking right at you. “anyways, i hear we’re popular in germany so you guys better put on a show!” said lilli. ignoring her comment, you walked outside and lit a cigarette waiting for the others to finish packing up.

you lit a cigarette outside of the studio as you waited for the others to finish packing up. “ready to go?” asked malik. “yup. wanna go somewhere tonight?” you asked as you caught up with the others. “not sure, the club?” suggested mery as you guys buckled up in the van. “shots on me then,” said lilli. clubbing was your favorite thing to do, second to touring. this was how you met your hookups and one night stands. you loved with the others to minimize housing expenses, it sounded fun at first but now you barely tolerate it.

the fun part of it though is that you can always borrow clothes from lilli or mery. lilli had the cutest, sluttiest clothes ever. you tried on some of her clothes when you got home to plan your outfit. “hey,” lilli said as she walked in. “what’s up?” you asked. “nothing much, just a little tired,” she said, plopping on the bed. “hope i meet someone tonight,” she said. “me too,” you added. you liked the thought of boys but not the thought of dating them, you could never settle into a relationship so one night stands were your best friend.

you decided on a tank top with a mini skirt and you went to go get changed. soon enough it you all finished getting ready and left for the club. you went on like you usually would at a club; party hard, fuck boys, and drink lots. after the night of fun you sat down on the couch and looked up at the tv. it showed an interview of another band that you’ve never heard of. they looked like a bunch of loser teens in your mind but one caught your eye, the one with black hair. he wasn’t exactly your type but you loved his style.

you eventually forgot about that night one might later and you guys were on your way to germany to start the tour. you were excited to meet the fans and the boys. your first stop was the hotel to drop stuff off and get settled in before leaving to tour the venue and get used to the surroundings. you fell on the hotel bed and let out a sigh of relief. “i needed this,” you said to mery whom you shared a room with. “i heard there’s a hot all boy band that going to be at the venue,” she said. “said who?” you asked sitting up, amused by the keyword “hot.”

“i watch the news,” mery replied. “lame,” you said sitting back down. “apparently they’re very hot here, i hope we see them,” she said. “if they’re got then i hope we see them too,” you said yawning before lilli walked into the room. “we have to go soon,” she said. “shit i like garbage right now,” you said before getting up to get changed into something a little more appealing. you slipped into jeans and put on a sequined tanktop before grabbing your heels. “ready,” you said. you guys all got on the bus to the venue and you were anticipating meeting this band mery spoke of. when you got there, many other artists were there already, all waiting for a tour.

mery tapped your shoulder and pointed to a group of boys that looked oddly familiar. “that’s the hot band!” she exclaimed. you turned around and you immediately recognized them, it was the band from that tv interview at the club. “hey i know them, i saw them on tv,” you said to mery. “aren’t they so handsome?” she asked. “a little i guess, they look a bit young though,” you mentioned. “actually we’re about the same age as them,” mery said. “nerd,” you said before petting her head, messing up her hair.

you walked off to go stand in line for the tour with the other artists but you didn’t notice a certain someone noticing you. the line took hours since so many other artists were there but eventually the tour concluded. you realized your band and the other band that mery was talking about were the only bands there that would be performing. you ran back to the van hoping to get back to the hotel room quickly since you were tired, with the others following behind but someone interrupted you.

he walked up to you and introduced himself. “hey, i’m tom,” he said. you were tired and not in the mood to talk to anyone but you tried to be polite since you didn’t want the tabloids to start drama. “nice to meet you, tom,” you said looking at the boy who was surprisingly attractive. “i’m a big fan of your band,” he said. you could tell he wanted to fuck by his expression, i mean what else could he want? “oh really? i’ve heard about you a little too,” you said. he was practically creaming his pants when you said that, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “do you want to hang out on the tour bus?” he asked.

“thanks but no thanks, my bands a little busy. see you though i guess,” and with that you left. he looked confused at your rejection, like he couldn’t understand how a girl could reject a boy like him. you walked back to the van and mery was practically dying yo ask you questions. “did he just talk to you??” she asked. “yeah what about it?” you replied. “well i guess nothing but you’re not even gonna ask for his number or something? i thought you liked picking up boys especially since he’s exactly your type,” she said. “i’m just really tired right now,” you said yawning.

“oh,” said mery. the car ride back to the hotel room was silent and you almost fell asleep a little on the car. the next day you got ready to explore the city a little before heading to the venue to get ready to perform. you did sound checks and got changed into your stage outfit before meeting the others back stage. you messed around with your guitar a little before you heard backstage staff talking into their wally talkies. “alright tokio hotel is next, get them ready,” they said. malik signaled you guys to start walking on stage and as you did you saw thousands of fans and the venue was completely filled out.

you were so happy and your adrenaline started pumping as the first song started. you got really into it as you strummed your guitar and sang along, getting wild as you usually do. you walked downstairs into the crowd and did crowd surfs, blowing kisses at the audience and doing the “call me” hand signal as well. by the end of the concert your shirt was off and your hair was an mess with your makeup slightly smudged. you said said goodbye to the crowd, giving one last flirtatious smile before walking backstage.

you saw that tokio hotel was already standing there waiting for their set to start. “you’re welcome for the free concert,” you said winking at them as you guys walked by. “leave them alone,” lilli said, laughing and rolling her eyes. you had a little energy left so you walked into the crowd hoping to get a hookup. you saw a guy around your age and walked up to him. “hey, what’s your name?” you asked. “joel,” he smirked. one thing led to another and you ended up making out with him in his truck, although it was dangerous you still enjoyed it. your cell rang and it was mery calling you back to meet with the others.

you left without saying anything to him but not before grabbing a few drinks. you saw mery and ran up to her, she was in the crowd. you offered her a drink which she happily accepted and by the end of tokio hotels set you were both drunk. you were half awake now and wanted to go back to the room. “lilli can we get back to the hotel? i’m tired,” you whined. “yeah sure let me go get malik he’s by the bathroom we’ll meet you by the van,” she said. you and mery walked back to the van and it started getting quiet the farther you got away from stage. you waited by the van for lilli and malik until a familiar face appeared, it was tokio hotel.

“hey, good job tonight guys,” one of the members said. it was the one with black hair, the one that caught your eye first. “oh thanks you guys did good too,” you said. “you were off with some dude half of it,” mery said laughing. you told her to shush as you laughed, their faces were priceless. tom, the one that tried to flirt with you looked jealous? you brushed it off once you saw lilli and malik. “oh we gotta go now,” you said. “wait, do you guys want to go somewhere?” tom asked. gosh this boy was restless you though. “go where?” asked lilli. “you guys can come to our room,” said the black haired one.

you all looked at each other, “why not?” malik said. “alright then uhm let me call our manager and tell her we’ll be gone then,” said lilli. so you guys all got into tokio hotels van and headed for their room. you got sat next to tom whom was still trying to flirt and you decided to entertain him a little. “your guitar playing is amazing,” he said. “you’re not too bad yourself,” you replied. you guys went back and forth like that before you reached their hotel. you immediately went out on the balcony for a cigarette and tom followed.

“i’m surprised, usually girls stutter or get flustered when talking to me,” he said. you were confused as to why he brought that up but at the same time too drunk to care. “well i guess i’m not one of your fangirls,” you replied. it was silent for a bit before you said something. “you said you’ve seen my band around before right?” you asked. “yeah i really am a fan. i always thought you were hot, i was really excited to meet you,” he said. “well am i what you thought i’d be?” you asked. “not at all,” he replied. “you’re funny,” you said, winking at him. you headed inside first and introduced yourself to the others.

after introductions, you found out that the black haired one was bill, the singer, the drummer was gustav, and bassist was georg. you sat down next to mery and the room was silent until georg said something. “so you and tom huh?” he asked. “what about him?” you replied. “do you two like each other?” he asked. “i don’t ‘like’ boys, i fuck them,” you said. “she’s like the female version of tom,” bill said laughing. “what does that mean?” asked lilli. “tom’s just like her, flirty and sort of a player,” said gustav. “that makes sense, you finally found your match,” said malik.

the others laughed before tom walked in. “what’s so funny?” he asked. “nothing, we were just talking about how you and ______ were so similar,” said bill. he looked at you and smirked before taking a seat next to you. “want to take some shots?” asked bill reaching for a bottle of vodka. “sure but how’d you sneak alcohol in the hotel?” you asked. “don’t worry about it,” he said.

you guys took the shots and soon enough you were all drunk. but since you and mery had already gotten drinks the two of you blacked out. you don’t remember much except for someone carrying you to the bed and the lights turning off.

you woke up the next day, not knowing where you were. you saw lilli and malik on the floor and mery sleeping next to gustav. tom was laying next to you with bill next to him while georg slept on the sofa. the bed was crammed so you got off to wake the others up. you walked over to lilli first. “lilli help me wake the others,” you said. “what time is it?” she asked. “it’s like eleven AM,” you said. “oh shit, we were supposed to meet our manager at nine,” she said.

she started panicking which led you to panic so you two were just freaking out which woke the others. “what’s wrong?” asked mery, waking up. “we were supposed to meet our manager at nine, it’s eleven,” she said shaking malik. you were fighting a massive hangover and lillie’s panic wasn’t helping. soon enough tokio hotel woke up and you guys were already at the door. “leaving already?” asked tom. “we’re late to meeting our manager,” you said. “shit,” said georg. “uh see you guys around i guess?” said mery as you guys ran out the door.

lilli had ten miss calls from the manager and dozens of angry texts. you guys got into a lot of trouble, which you took the blame for. you guys went back to the hotel room and you flung yourself on the bed. “ugh fuck this,” you said. “what’s wrong?” asked mery. “this hangover, i feel like i’m dying,” you replied. “i bet calling your boyfriend tom will make you feel better,” she said teasing you. the others started laughing while you just rolled your eyes. “seriously though you guys are perfect for each other,” added lilli. “whatever,” you said.

“speaking of them i happened to get gustavs number last night, maybe we should meet with them tonight~~,” said mery. “well i am bored, maybe the club?” malik suggested. “you read my mind, call him mery,” said lilli. you sat by the side pretending not to be interested because deep down you knew you were starting to find tom attractive and you knew where this would go. he would break your heart or you would breaks his and he would leave, just like the others.

mery called the gustav anyways and it was settled, your band and tom’s band were going out tonight. your manager basically grounded you guys so obviously you couldn’t go out… which wasn’t going to stop you. i mean you guys never listen to your manager hence last night. you felt and looked like garbage so you quickly hoped in the shower before going shopping in town. you went by yourself since the others were too busy doing their own thing, but you didn’t mind since you liked your own company.

hours later you got a call from mery asking you to go back since everyone was getting ready. you meet them back in the room and get ready as well, putting on one the dresses you bought while in town. “did you buy that dress just for tom?” asked lilli in a teasing tone. “no i bought it for you dad,” you replied sticking your tongue at at her. malik and mery laughed as you put your heels on. thirty minutes later you guys all left and met with tokio hotel and there tom was, looking nonchalant but in a hot way as usual. you look away from him to scout out the boys in the club that could help take your mind off things.

you spotted a very cute boy with curly brown hair dancing by himself. you walked up to him, completely separating from the others. “hey i’m ______, what’s your name?” you asked him. “it’s skylar,” he said. “let’s dance,” you said as you started grinding against him. he was into and you even got your mind off tom before you walked over to the bathroom. you guys are out a few moments later, your hair messy and his shirt half buttoned. you blew him a kiss as you walked over to the others who were now sitting on a sofa.

“wow we’ve only just gotten here and you’ve already hooked up with a dude ______ that’s a new record,” said malik. “who keeps track anymore?” you asked him. you took a seat next to mery and tom, right in the middle. tom was visibly staring at you and you were confused until you realized you were wearing a very booby top. “perv,” you whispered over to him. he quickly looked away which made you laugh a little. mery left and decided to go on the dance floor with gustav and bill following while lilli and malik went to the bar to gets drinks leaving you and tom.

“so why don’t you date?” he asked. “same reason as you probably, i don’t believe in love after one night,” you said. “wow, we really are similar,” he said. “you think?” you said. “why don’t we date then?” he asked. “because i’ll break your heart,” you replied. “maybe i’ll break yours,” he said. “nobody breaks my heart,” you replied, chuckling. he gave you a dry laugh and looked away before malik and lilli came back with drinks. you and tom both got super intoxicated that night and one thing left to another and you two ended in a hotel room together. the two of you laid on the bed as you lit a cigarette. “do you hate me?” he asked. “what do you mean?” you were confused. “i mean, you’re not head over heels for me, you don’t stutter or fumble your words at all when we speak and you don’t want to date me, i don’t understand why you would act like that unless you hate me,” he explained. “i don’t hate you, in fact i think i’m in love with you,” you drunkenly admitted.

“you do?” he asked, shocked. “i think. i mean you’re exactly my type and we’re basically the same person so i guess i do,” you said. you were slightly conscious of what you had just confessed to tom and you had no regrets, holding it in was killing you slowly. tom reached for you cigarette and you guys shared it until you put it out. you fell asleep and the next morning you woke up in tom’s arms. he was completely wrapped around you and you had no memory of the night before.

“morning,” he said groggily with his morning voice. “did we…?” you asked, scrounging up as much of last night as you could. “yeah, and you also confessed you love for me,” he said laughing. “oh god, did i?” you asked. “don’t tell me you didn’t mean it,” he said. “unfortunately i did and you’re not going to let me live it down will you?” you asked. “of course not,” he said smiling. you reached over for your phone to missed calls and texts messages from lilli. “i guess we should get back to our hotels,” you said before getting up to put your clothes on. “not before i do this,” tom said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to bed before kissing you. “i hate you,” you said digging your face into his chest.

[westanthewaterman]

Be Happy - Actor!Mark & Fem!Reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1300+

Request: 95 “I just want you to be happy, even if your happiness doesn’t include me, I just want you happy.” ~ With Actor and a fem! reader please? Look man if you watch the man of your dreams fall for someone else you just continue being their best friends anyways haha :,) - anon

Notes: The reader is referred to as a woman once, but is otherwise gender neautral. 

Contents: slight angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, drinking

You should be happy. You know you should be happy. You should be ecstatic. Your best friend is engaged! He’s marrying the love of his life! If only it was you. 

Marc shares the big news at one of his typical evening parties. He gathers the crowd, an arm around Celine’s waist as she shows off the ring he’d given her. It’s flashy, gaudy, absolutely not her style but she seems so happy to be wearing it. And your best friend turns to you, flashing you one of his signature million dollar smiles and what are you supposed to do? Tell him how you’ve been in love with him since you were children? Tell him you’ve hoped against hope that he would wake up one day and realize you were the woman he wanted all along?

“I’m so happy for you, Marc.” You smile and pray to whoever’s listening it doesn’t look as pained as you feel inside. 

Marc claps you on the back. “I’m sorry for keeping it a secret from you, old friend. I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“W-Well it certainly was. How long have you been planning this?”

“Is it cheesy to say I’ve been thinking about it since the day I met her? Because that’s what it feels like. Even before we were together, I think I always knew.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, turning away to hide your watery eyes. “Well congratulations, my friend, I know you two will be very happy together.”

“Thank you. Now I simply must go find Will, I need to ask him about some ideas I have for the wedding.”

Marc runs off and you weave your way through the crowd to get to the bar. You take one of the glasses of champagne on the counter and throw it back before grabbing another. 

“Whoa there, the party’s barely even started.”

Damien leans against the bar next to you, setting his cane down on the counter. He looks at you with gentle eyes, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, I know this must be hard for you. I wanted to tell you but he made me swear not to tell a soul before the announcement. You know how Marc can be with his dramatics.”

“You knew?”

“He asked for my permission.”

“And you gave it to him?”

“They would’ve just done it anyway, it’s not as if Celine cares about my opinions on who she marries. I doubt she even wanted Marc to ask me, but you know he’s a fool for tradition.”

Sighing softly, you tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. 

“Come now, old sport, you’ll find someone eventually.” He leans in to whisper quietly. “You could do better anyway, Marc’s choice of jewelry is absolutely atrocious.”

That pulls a laugh out of you.

“I suppose you’re right. That ring is awful. I’m surprised she accepted it.”

He shrugs. “Love makes you do silly things.”

“Speaking of which, where’s that attorney friend of yours?”

A blush spreads across his cheeks and he turns his head away.

“W-Why do you ask?”

“Nooo reason…only that I heard a rumor someone caught you two sneaking off together.”

“Th-That was purely a misunderstanding! I was…giving them some advice on a case.”

“I didn’t know you specialized in legal advice now.”

“W-Well…”

You chuckle. “Relax Damien, your secret is safe with me as long you introduce me at some point. Marc speaks very highly of them.”

“I suppose I can manage that. I’ll see if they can find time in their busy schedule.”

Over his shoulder, you see Marc and Celine smiling happily, chatting with a group of guests. He leans down to press a kiss to her lips, the look in his eyes one of unadulterated love and affection. It makes you feel sick. 

“I…I’m going to get some air.”

“Alright, but you’d better be ready to play me at the tables later. My friend has been showing me a few of their tricks.”

You grab a third flute of champagne and push yourself away from the bar, shouldering through the mess of people filling the room. The crisp night air is a welcome change as you step out onto the terrace, taking a deep breath of the cool air. It’s quiet out here, finally giving you space to think. 

You want to go home. You want to curl up in bed and never leave your house again that way you never have to see Marc or that lovesick smile that’s been plastered on his face ever since he and Celine got together. Guilt churns in your stomach. You should be happy for him. He’s your best friend, you want him to be happy above all else. But why couldn’t he be happy with you? Why couldn’t he love you?

Someone else steps outside and you sigh, hoping they’ll get the memo and leave you alone. 

“I’m surprised, usually you’re the life of the party.”

You spin around to see Marc standing behind you. You can’t meet his eyes, scared the tears will fall if you do. He moves closer, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Something’s the matter, I can tell. What’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t tell you? I promise it’s nothing personal, I wouldn’t have even told Damien if I didn’t need to ask his permission.”

“I’m not upset, Marc, I just needed to get some air.”

“Which is only something you do when you’re upset. Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, you’re my best friend.”

“I…” You shake your head. “Really, it’s nothing. Go back inside, I’m sure Celine is looking for you.”

“I refuse to leave until you tell me the truth. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes and your hands ball into fists. You just want him to go inside and leave you alone. You want him to forget about you, because that would be easier than having to be reminded everyday that he could never love you the same way. Maybe it’s the stress or the alcohol in your blood, but you can’t take it anymore. 

“What’s wrong is I’m in love with my best friend. What’s wrong is I have to watch the man I love be in love with someone else. I have to spend the rest of my life knowing I was never good enough!”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you regret them. He looks at you with something akin to pity but much more distraught. Marc speaks your name softly, reaching out for you but you pull away from him. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you say softly, “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your fault. I…I just want you to be happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me. I just want you happy.”

To your surprise, Marc wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“I’m sorry, truly I am, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. But you can’t think for a second that just because I don’t…return your feelings that you aren’t a part of my happiness. You can’t honestly believe that.”

“I…well…”

“You are one of, if not, my oldest friend. You have been with me through thick and thin. The love I have for you may not be the same love you feel for me, but it’s still love all the same. And no one could take your place in my life, ever.”

There’s no holding back the tears now and you don’t want to. You smile despite them, looking at this man who has been such a huge part of your life. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, old friend. Now, I do believe Damien was setting up a round of poker and I may or may not have a few new tricks up my sleeve to make sure he loses.”

“You didn’t.”

He pulls an ace from his sleeve. “Oh I certainly did.”

“Alright, I’m sure between the two of us, we’re bound to rob him of every penny he has.”

“That’s the plan.” Marc offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

[pan-ick]

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

[hellotherekenobi]

─── a letter to you.

summary: the one thing you’re good at, aside from being a jedi, is writing. in fact, it helps you say the things that you can never say aloud; like how you’re in love with obi-wan kenobi. the one thing you’re bad at, though, is keeping your writing hidden, and one letter gets found.

requested by: @iamfrulcrum

ONESHOT. ⟶ 2,521 WORDS.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was one of those things. Something you do to help quiet the voices in your head, to collect your thoughts into one big bundle instead of scattered scribbles on the pages of your mind. It was calming. It was your way of coping. It was writing.

When everything became too much, you knew the one thing that would always help is to write things down. With a pen or a pencil in your hand, the world goes quiet. It was also a way to express your secrets without ever really telling anybody— secrets you kept for the very reason that if anyone found out, you would be in deep waters. Why? Because you’re in love with a Jedi. And you have no idea what to do about it.

You’ve been friends with Obi-Wan ever since you were knighted a Jedi alongside him, and although you two were on less and less missions together as the years passed, your feelings for him never faulted. Whenever he greeted you with a toothy smile or ran a hand through his hair or looked at you with those dazzling blue eyes, you felt every sort of butterfly erupt in your stomach; completely head-over-heels for a man who could never love you back, or love at all for that matter.

So, writing was the best option for you. It was that or harboring your entire existence around him, which was almost becoming the norm for you with how much you think about him. But no more. To get the thoughts out of your head, you know you need to put them to paper. Then you can scrunch it up into a little ball and burn it and hope for the best.

However, the hopeful moment was split in two when a finger tapped your shoulder and you flinched; turning around in your chair quickly to see those beautiful, sparkling cerulean eyes that you were all too familiar with— the very pair that made you melt down into a puddle, feeling all gooey inside— so you can’t help but instantly relax at noticing that it’s him and smiling like, what you are sure looks to be, a complete and utter goofball.

“Hi, darling,” he smiles, a soft chuckle flowing past his lips as he settles himself into the chair beside you— and you feel as if your smile has grown even wider with just those two words and the very way he said them— “do you mind if I sit here for a while? I’m on the run at the moment.”

“On the run?” You laugh and he leans in close to shush you.

“Yes, from Madame Kandria. I’ve become her errand boy for the day and I have had it. I need a break.”

You nod at him, placing your chin in your palm, “Hmm, very good choice then here, the library.”

“It was the most obvious choice, yes—” he nudges your arm— “besides, when I saw you sitting here all by yourself, I had to join you.” He smiles brightly, as if he should be receiving a golden sticker on his robes for such a charming compliment, “What are you writing?”

“Just thoughts,” you offer, sliding him a piece of paper you had been scribbling at for the past few minutes, fortunately nothing about him... yet.

He takes the paper with gentleness; using one finger to spin it to face himself and taking his time to read each word with the utmost attentiveness— you almost scoff at how he looks, all he needs is a pair of reading glasses and the picture would be set; something adorable to frame inside your mind, as opposed to all the other moments you’ve captured that now reside where you can always look at them. After a moment, Obi-Wan hums and flashes you another, but quick, dazzling smile.

“You have a way with words,” he says and you drag the paper back to you, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as if it were a twitch, but Obi-Wan is quick to reach for the paper; placing his hand on top of yours, “I mean it!”

“Thank you.” You nod at him, focusing much more on the feeling of his soft but calloused hand rather than his sincere words.

“When are you going to write me something?” He asks suddenly, and you’re looking at him with such genuine surprise that he chuckles, “I’m asking.”

“You’re asking?”

He makes such an adorable sound when he nods at you that you almost cave and tell him well, I have written about you before, plenty of times, so take your pick! but just as his tap on the shoulder to you interrupted your thoughts before, so does the shout of his name from the doorway does now; Obi-Wan springing up, his hand squeezing yours, and stammering out a, “M-Madame Kandria!”

She looks furious, the poor woman; standing with her back so straight that she might as well have been a statue, the lines under her eyes showing more than just age but stress too, “I’ve been calling for you.”

“My apologies, I was helping my frien—”

“Come with me.”

She doesn’t say another word, just simply spins on her heel and walks right back out of the door. Obi-Wan turns around to you with a mocking yet tired smile on his face and you’re about to burst into laughter right then and there with how much annoyance you can feel seeping from him, until he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, his hand that was on yours now at the back of your head to move you toward him gently, and then he’s dashing out of the room to follow Kandria before she can shout at him again.

And you sit there. And you blink. And you write.

─────── ⋯ ───────

Obi-Wan rarely sees you that week, with him at Madame Kandria’s beck-and-call and you with your duties around the temple, that whenever you two do happen to see each other, it’s when you’re leaving the library and he’s entering it. He keeps trying, however, to time those quick encounters better so that he can actually talk to you but it turns out that when he tries, he ends up missing you altogether. Like now, with him finding the only evidence that you were even in the library to begin with being the papers scattered on one of the desks.

It brings a soft smile to his face, though, to see all the mess you’ve left behind— you have always been a bit of a scattered bookworm and besides, this gives him the best excuse to find you and return these as if he hasn’t been chasing you around the Jedi Temple for days. As he goes to collect them all, he can’t help but skim his eyes down the pages and read what he can, because he doesn’t want to pry, really he doesn’t, but he has always hoped that you would write about him one of these days, even if it were to make fun of him or—

Soft, cerulean eyes and auburn hair. He’s beautiful without realizing it.

Was that... his eyes that you had written about? His hair? Do you think that he’s... beautiful? Now he can’t help the jolt of curiosity that suddenly rushes through him, and he sits down on the chair to properly read what’s on the page.

Write about me, he says. As if I haven’t done so a hundred times before. A letter to you, then. I’m consumed by you. You touch my hand and I light up. You kiss my forehead and I melt. I doubt you even know how I feel about you. Sometimes I think that you may feel the same. I wish you had kissed me on the lips instead.

Obi-Wan’s whole world has been turned upside down. The words he’s read are swirling around in his head, spinning faster and faster like a tide-pool, until he feels as if he’s going to topple over. All these years... all this time when he thought he was chasing daydreams, and you’ve felt the same way. Why couldn’t you be here? Why can’t you be next to him so that he can pull you to him and kiss you like you had wished that he would? How could he even tell you that he’s loved you ever since you were young? If only he had an outlet like you, where he could express himself and confess to his feelings— wait.

He looks down at the paper, and he looks at all the others, and he finds one that’s barely been written on. And he grabs the pencil you had left on the table. And he writes.

─────── ⋯ ───────

You turn around the corner with a smile on your face, looking as positively cheerful as you can muster, before noticing that the desk is empty and you’ve missed Obi-Wan in the library again, and the smile wipes itself off of your face almost about as fast as Obi-Wan had ran out of the library at the start of the week. It was becoming increasingly tiresome to constantly miss Obi-Wan by a couple of minutes or only see him down the hallway when you’re heading in the opposite direction. You just wanted to talk to him. Aside from writing, he was the only other thing— the only other person— that helped you relax. And the very fact that the last exchange between the two of you was him kissing your forehead is about driving you mad. That spot has been burning ever since and you’ve found yourself swiping your fingers along it without prompt on more than one occasion.

You need to write. You need to get these thoughts out of you before you bubble over, or boil over for that matter (it does seem the most appropriate with everything that’s been going on.) With you is your stack of papers, all crumpled up between each other; the ones that were left by your door by who you’re sure was Obi-Wan. You hadn’t meant to leave a mess behind you in the library that day but you were in a hurry, and you’re thankful that no one else found them... like Master Mace Windu. You shiver just at the thought of him reading anything of yours. What if he read something private? Like the one time you wrote in agonizing detail the embarrassing encounter you had with the Gungans who had been invited to one Senate meeting and you had... no, that’s better left unsaid.

Flicking through your papers, you look for a spare one that you can write on, but you don’t seem to find any empty space, which is odd seeing as you always make sure you have at least one blank piece of paper with you. There’s your diary entry of sorts about yesterday, the messy notes you took in the meeting which was only supposed to be quick but it went on for much longer than that, the dream you had, the note you had written about Obi-Wan— maker, what if he had seen that?— and the paper about someone’s eyes. Wait. You don’t remember writing that. Wait. That isn’t your handwriting.

The most beautiful eyes I’ve ever gazed into. You’re beautiful in everything you do and you don’t seem to realize it.

You re-read those words as if your life depends on them. One more time. Two more times. It sounds just like what you wrote about Obi-Wan the other day, and you quickly flick through to compare the two letters. It’s as if someone has replied to what you wrote. And when this thought registers in your mind, you read the rest of it.

I’ve never been too good at words like you are, as much as you may think that I am. Instead I will list all the ways that I love you. In the way I touch your hand, in the way I kiss your forehead, in the way I smile when we talk. I love you in every way that I can. I wish I had kissed your lips as well.

It’s as if someone just drove their hand deep into your chest and gave your heart a handshake. There’s no feeling in your fingertips for a moment as you sit there and hold the letter, glance at the words, and fight the urge to scream— because if what you read wasn’t any indication on who wrote this, then it was the scribbled ‘sincerely, the errand boy’ on the bottom of the page that gave it away. It was Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wrote you this letter. Obi-Wan read the letter you had written him. And Obi-Wan told you that he loves you.

Now you really do bubble over (and, yes, this is the most appropriate with the excitement you feel) at the thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi knight, the boy, you had fallen in love with all those years ago who loves you back. It seems too good to be true, as if you’re going to smile so wide that you’ll wake yourself up from this dream and go back to only ever being able to love him in words. But the weight of everything sinks in when you flip the page over and read ‘I’m in the training room’, and you leap out of the chair like you’ve never moved so fast before— taking care to not leave anything behind this time— and practically run to the training room. He needn’t have to tell you which one; you can feel him as you get closer— he’s nervous.

When you step through the doorway, Obi-Wan is sitting at the other end of the room and he stands almost as fast as you had done only minutes before in the library. There’s a moment where neither of you two move, where the air goes quiet and you can only hear the hammering of your heart, and then in a soft, whispered press of the Force to your mind you hear him speak, ‘you’re here’ and you nod at him, a smile forming at the corner of your mouth, and speak aloud, “I’m here.”

He takes the first step toward you, then you take one, then he takes two more, and so you two play this game of who will reach the other first. As you near him, you can see the way he fiddles with his hands. Chuckling, you reach out to him, your hand gently brushing along the top of his until you can feel him relax under your touch, and you both have stepped so close that you’re breathing the same air together, and he takes one more tentative step to gently rest his forehead on yours. You close your eyes and you breathe this moment in; you let yourself remember what this smells like, you let yourself cherish the quiet that you spend with him like this.

And then ever so quietly, with the sweetest tone of his voice, he speaks, “Can I kiss you this time?”

tags: @thedevilwearsbeskar @goldenkenobi @aemorr-5885 @katsav17 @badedum-badaboom @solaena @lexylovesfandoms

[trojc-rewrite]

The Rise of Jimmy Casket, Chapter 3

——————————————

Toast awoke to the sun blaring in his eyes and pain. Everything hurt, his throat, his leg, his back. He frowned as he shifted upwards. More hot pain flared through his leg, scorching up his side. He let out a small cry, immediately recoiling and lying back down. He groaned, rubbing his head.

Spooker shifted beside him, blinking tiredly. Toast had never seen him so tired before, his eyes were droopy and his hair was a mess. His beanie had sticks and leaves stuck in it, dirt and soot were smeared across his cheek.

“You look well rested.” Spooker said in a happy tone. Toast mustered up a smile.

“Yeah, hardly.” He said, trying to lean up again. More pain seared through him. He toughed it out, ignoring his body’s begging to tell him to sit. He needed to get up. He wasn’t going to let himself give up on why he came out here.

Toast weakly got up, trying to not put too much wait on his bad leg. Spooker helped him up. Colon was already up, examining the damage from the fire.

The wood was blackened and burned, just the tiniest bit warm still. Cracks and splinters scored the planks, letting Toast see inside of them. Something that stood out to him was the rippling green that stained the inside of some of the cracks. It wasn’t grass, it was a weird lime green, faint but still there. ‘What on earth?’

He reached down and picked up a small burned chunk, it stained his hand with ash. He examined the green some more. ‘What could this even be?’

Colon wandered over to him, looking curious. “How are you feeling, Toast?” He asked, glancing at the red cloth around his wound. Toast shrugged.

“Still alive, yeah?” He said. Toast showed Colon the blackened wood. “Hey, do you know what this could be?”

Colon took the piece gently, studying the green that emitted from the cracks. He shook his head, placing the piece back in Toast’s palm. “No idea, my best guess is that it could be something the firemen put on the fire last night.”

Toast nodded, stuffing the wood in one of his back pockets. “Well, we should keep going. The nearest town isn’t tha’ far away.”

Spooker stared at him like he had just suggested a crime, “Are you crazy dude? You can hardly stand! How are you gonna walk?”. He held out his arms in exasperation.

Toast shrugged, looking towards the North. “We’ll get there.” Spooker and Colon shared a look, but they didn’t need to say anything for Toast to figure out what they meant. “I know he’s out there. Trust me.”

Colon sighed, worried. “But what if he’s not, Toast? What if you get even more hurt or worse, and we’re just chasing something because you have a hunch! Toast; we’re worried. We know you miss Ghost, we do to-.”

Toast looked at him, “Just trust me. I know Ghost better than anyone here, just trust me.”

Spooker blinked, not saying any input. Colon gave him an unreadable look. “Fine, but if you get hurt again we’re leaving.”

Toast bit back a sigh. “Okay; then let's go.”

————————————————————————

They reached the town a little after noon, and the first thing Toast did was go to the library. The library was small, a line of old desktop computers filled a wall. Books of all volumes and colors sat in bookshelves that looked dusty. An older woman sat at a round desk in the middle of the room, flipping through a thick chapter book.

Toast limped up to her, Colon helping him while Spooker looked at a book shelf labeled “Romance”. She squinted up at him, fixing her glasses.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked, a small smile gracing her face. Toast returned it.

“Hello, I have a peculiar question. Would you happen to have any newspaper records on a man named Jimmy Casket?” He asked, feeling awkward. The lady blinked at him, a little confused.

“It’s for a school project for our little brother.” Colon said, trying to ease the tension off of Toast.

The librarian nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, we have a few I believe. You’ll have more luck in the towns a few miles over, dearies. But, I’ll go get the few that we have.”

She got up from her desk, and entered a room in the back of the library. Toast turned to Colon and nodded, “When did you pick up being that creative?” He asked. Colon shrugged.

“It’s probably the one thing Ghost taught me, to be able to lie on the spot.” He smiled playfully. Toast returned it solemnly.

A few moments later, the librarian returned with three newspapers, yellowed and crumpled a bit at the edges. “Here you are. I’m afraid it’s all we have.” She said, handing Colon the three newspapers. The two shared a look before Toast thanked her.

The two settled down on a table, opening the first newspaper. The title leaped at them in bold font, “Murderer struck down in South Carolina.”

Toast read quietly to himself and Colon. “ Yesterday, at 9:01 PM, a famous murderer in a small town in South Carolina, nicknamed “Casket”, was killed by police during one of his rampages. Witnesses say it was a horrifying experience. The man was no older than 18, and his step-mother, who preferred to stay anonymous, has told reporters that she ‘has no idea how he turned out this way.’

“ He was such a loving and kind child, accepting me right away as his father’s wife. When his father died, he took it upon himself to be the best figure possible for his family. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Police are still looking into possible victims of this man's heinous crimes. The towns folk are sending their regards to the families of his confirmed victims.”

Toast took a breath, finishing the paragraph. Colon blinked.

“Wait wait wait, who is this Jimmy Casket guy? How does this have anything to do with Ghost?” Colon asked, flicking the page of the newspaper. Toast traced a circle in the table.

“Let’s say I’ve met him in a few of my missions with Ghost.” Toast worded carefully.

The two finished reading the other articles and handed them back to the librarian. “You three boys have a nice night.” She said with a smile.

“You too ma’am.” Toast responded politely. Spooker was by the entrance of the library, reading Twilight on a bench. “C’mon Spooker put the book back, it’s time to go.”

Spooker frowned, sadly putting the book on a “put back” cart. He followed his co workers outside, it was night now. The moon shined down on the town, yellow lights dancing on the gravel ground.

“Well, we keep moving.” Toast said. Colon and Spooker groaned.

The three made it to the edge of town, making it out of a large pine forest. A river lay ahead of them, deep and murky. It was quiet and slow moving, but you could tell it was deep.

Spooker pointed to a bridge, “Let’s cross there.” He said. Colon and Spooker helped Toast to the stone and wood crossing. The wood was wet and rotten in spots, and it groaned as Toast stepped on it.

“Let me go first,” Toast volunteered. Spooker and Colon shook their heads at him, but Toast ignored them. He limped across the wailing wood, yelling under his weight.

As he got closer to the middle, a figure stepped out of the darkness. Long legs stepped lightly on the cedar, tapping away at the weak wood. Toast stared in confusion, trying to figure out who the person was.

His brother's face gleaned from the shadows, stepping out into the moonlight. Toast's eyes widened, blinking in shock.

“Gavin? What are you doing here?!” His brother's gray-green eyes glared at him.

“Sorry Johnny Boy, but I’m gonna have to stop ya righ’ ‘ere. Or else my frien’ might not be the happies’ with me.” Gavin apologized. Johnny could tell that his brothers apology wasn’t sincere in the slightest. In fact, it sounded more taunting than anything.

“What do you mean? Gavin, please what do you mean?” His brother stepped forward.

And then with incredible speed, green-orange fire erupted from his hand. Toast dodged out of the way, knocking into the railing. The bridge under him groaned in agony. Gavin’s hot flames flicked his face, burning his cheek

“Do ya like my tricks?! Pays when ya work with ghosts.” Gavin laughed. More flames shot from his palms, hitting Toast's feet. Toast tried to get away, but the movement was too much for the bridge.

His foot went through the rotten wood, and he grappled onto the jagged stone, barely saving himself from falling into the river. ‘I won't be able to swim. I'm too weak.’

Spooker and Colon cried out, “Toast!”. Colon stepped forward to charge at Gavin, but Spooker held him back.

Toast looked back up at his brother, begging for his remorse. “Please Gavin, I’m your brother!” He begged. His fingers hurt from grappling the wood, rotten splinters digging into his palms.

Gavin chuckled, “Yeah, but then ya got all lame n’ sappy with Mary n’ Ghost. You ain’t the same anymore. And Ghost is borin’ too now. Trust me, what we’re workin’ on, it’s for the good o’ both o’ ya’.”

Johnny glared at him, “Who’s we?” He asked curtly. Gavin growled at him.

“See ya’.” Gavin returned his brother's angry tone. He raised his leg to kick him. Toast grabbed his brother by the leg and yanked him down with him, letting go of the bridge. His brother yelled angrily.

“TOAST!” Spooker screamed in horror, racing to the edge of the bridge. Toasts world went deaf as he hit the water, slowing under it. His brother disappeared with a flash of green, leaving him alone to drown.

Toast tried to swim and kick his legs, but he just hurt too much. Everything hurt, he felt so heavy. Maybe he wouldn’t see Ghost, maybe he wouldn't hold up his promise to Mary.

‘Oh Mary, I’m so sorry.’ He rubbed his wedding ring necklace. He closed his eyes, sinking.

Then, something grabbed him by the torso. Gray and blue flashed hazily in his darkened vision. He kicked weakley, trying to help whoever had grabbed him.

He and his rescuer broke to the surface, and he gasped for air. Cold water trickled down his face, clogging up his senses. The world became hearable again.

His rescuer slapped him down onto the grass, and he could hear Colon and Spooker running across the bridge, ignoring the bridge's pleas.

“Didn’t your rich mother ever take you to swimming lessons?” A tired, sarcastic voice asked.

Toasts heart leaped in his chest, and he opened his eyes.

There, infront of him, was Ghost.

[bb-tings]

unspoken magic - drew starkey

magic - gabrielle aplin 

(10/10 reccomend ALL HER MUSIC)

so i found this song on spotify while i was looking for a song to write a cute fluffy drew fic to and it gave me such drew vibes bc homeboy doesn’t know how to use any form of social media lol...also the rant is literally me. like my thoughts and actions and beliefs. some of yall 13 year olds really don’t know the meaning of BOUNDARIES.

...anyways enjoy,

-BRI

if you want to join or get taken off the taglist just let me know in my messages or in the comments 😊

taglist: @ampanonyg @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @jjmbanks @maybanksbaby @1-800-jjslut  @simpforstarkey @jellyfishbeansontoast

Remember when we snuck out of your birthday, didn't even say goodbye, 'Cause even there in a room full of faces, all I saw was you and I

     Everyone was having a blast dancing around, drinking, laughing. It was Drew’s birthday after all. The cast had decided to rent out a club and invite family and friends, including everyone who worked on set, the workers have become more like family than colleagues. There was so much chaos going on and while Y/n was so proud of the cast and herself for pulling the event off for her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but feel a little antisocial. She was a social butterfly, but everyone knew that after days of being the life of the party and extroverted, she needed time alone and started to shut down, wanting to be alone. Y/n was so excited for the party but when it came time for her to get dressed up and drunk with her friends, she found herself sitting alone on a couch booth while sipping wine, not really seeing the fun in getting wasted and stupid drunk. 

     Y/n watched as Drew and Rudy drunkenly danced back to back, screaming out the words to OMG by Usher, she laughed as he made eye contact with the young girl and pointed to her, wiggling his finger for her to join him. She held her glass up and tried giving him a believable smile, but the older boy knew better, so he made his way over to her.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Drew slid his way next to his girlfriend and used the towel on the table to wipe the sweat off of his face. “Did somebody upset you?”

“Nothing bubba, I’m fine.”

      Y/n looked up from her short-lived attempt at avoiding Drew’s eyes to him already looking at her. She watched as his hand moved toward her hair as he pushed a fallen piece behind her ear. He looked around her face and finally met her eyes, not believing her. “I’m fine, Drew. I promise.”

     Drew sat back away from her as he let out a loud sigh. “Why do you do that? Why do you lie to my face and tell me that you’re ok like I’m going to buy it? Why can’t you just tell me the truth?”

     “Drew, I really don’t wanna do this right now,” the young girl pleaded. “It’s your birthday, can’t we just have a good time and not worry about me right now?” To that Drew looked at his other half like she had grown another half. 

     “Ok, first of all, this,” He moved his finger quickly in the small space between them. “This Is not a fight. This is me being upset because my girlfriend won’t let me worry about her. I guess she doesn’t know how relationships work.” Drew teased the girl with a small smile on his face. “And second, we both know that I can’t have a good time if you’re sitting over here all sad and mopey.”

It's all the words you never say, the way I catch you watchin' me, I know that you love me, i know you can feel the magic, we don't need to talk about

     After a little back and forth, the young boy had finally gotten the girl to spill the truth about needing some alone time and was now trying to sneak them out of his own birthday party. As the pair rode home, Y/n couldn’t help but look at Drew as he stared ahead. She watched as his changing blue eyes flickered between the path in front of him and the many cars behind him, also driving in the early hours of the morning. 

     Though there were many signs, lights, and flashes that caught her mind’s attention, basically begging her eyes to look, she couldn’t help but only see Drew. This was her favorite kind of Drew. When he is totally unbothered. He was doing something so simple, something that he had been doing since he turned 15, now 27 it only seems right that he should be used to it. However, Y/n couldn’t help to notice how he put all his effort into it, eyes never once leaving the road, she liked to believe that it was his way of self consciously protecting her. And even though she thought she was going unnoticed, the young girl wasn’t the only one admiring from not so far. Drew was watching her too but through his peripheral. He loved that she was enchanted by everything he did. He liked knowing that he wasn’t the only one completely and hopelessly in love. 

No, we don't feel the need for colorful displays, 'cause it's not the kind of game we play, and why should we show the world how we feel, when it's not about them anyway

     Everyone was over at Madelyn’s apartment chilling and hanging out with one another. The blonde was stationed on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, with a live Instagram leaning on a few books. Y/n was sitting directly behind the girl, turned to the side with her legs pulled up to her chest. She had let Maddie use her phone, the 22-year-old being too lazy to walk to her room and get hers, so now she was just watching as Madelyn socialized with the fans. 

“Ow, shit.” 

     Y/n turned her head to see Drew sitting on the edge of the couch next to her holding his foot with a worried stare. The younger girl let out a small snort. “Did you hit your toe bub?” 

     Drew let out a whiny noise and Maddie proceeded to also let out a laugh, then reusing one of her famous lines, “Never heard anyone whine like that before.” Y/n gently pushed the girl’s shoulder, teasingly telling her to leave the big baby alone. She then returned her vision to the raging comment section. Her once big smile quickly fading to a frown.

I think its a PR stunt bc they don’t even act like a couple

Drew deserves someone who actually loves him...LIKE ME!

gUys she called him bUb! THATS SO CUTE (emoji)

Nah thats def apr stunt, more obvious than shawn and camila

I don’t eleven think i’ve seen them hold hands

     Madelyn and Y/n simultaneously rolled their eyes, the blonde looking up at her best friend gave her a look that spoke “you gonna tell em or me.”

     Y/n slid down from the couch and joined her friend on the floor, getting right in front of the camera. She looked up at her loving boyfriend who was on his phone also looking at the comments on the live. He glanced down towards Y/n and gave her a small smile, telling her to go for it. It wasn’t the first time they had seen comments like this and he knew it wouldn’t be the last but he also knew that she had been dying to rant about it. 

     “Alright, I’m gonna go ahead and say this one thing, and then I’m probably going to take some time off this app.” The young actress slowly took a deep breath and then began her rant. “ Alright, first of all, my relationship with ANYONE, is between me and that person. Just because I have friends, boyfriends or family, does not mean that I have to post them on this account. I understand that it’s hard to believe that 2 people can be happy and healthy unless they showcase it to the rest of the world, but it is in fact very possible. So for everyone who is questioning, my relationship,” the girl then grabbed Drew’s hand, pulling him down to her side of the couch until he was laying on his side behind her head. “This is Drew. My boyfriend. It’s not a publicity stunt, it’s not to get the show more popular, it’s real. Outer Banks is already the number one show on Netflix, so I don’t really think there would be a point to put 2 people in a fake relationship. And another thing, I don’t even have a fucking publicist, so I don’t really know where that came from.” 

     The young girl turned her head to meet Drew’s blue eyes, he looked at her with such satisfaction and amazement. He was proud of his younger girlfriend. For years Drew thought that he would never find someone who was anti-social media like him. He thought that he was just going to have to bare his relationships getting exploited all over the world. Drew was happy that he never had to worry about that with Y/n. 

     “I completely understand why it’s confusing and how you can question our relationship. But that doesn’t mean you can drag our relationship, and me particularly, down. You have no right to say the things you do about me, just because you think that the small, tiny, look into our lives means that I don’t love and care about Drew. Like, no offense, but that’s fucking insane. I’m tired of getting private messages about my weight, my clothes, my hair, my AGE. Don’t even get me started on the age difference. Half of the fan accounts on this app are run by 13-year-olds saying very inappropriate things about a 27-year-old grown-ass man. Like yall understand that’s illegal right. Like, get it through your head that those are fantasies and no matter HOW MANY TIMES you drag ME down, they will NEVER come true. My age isn’t anyone’s business, I’m over 18 so get over it.” Y/n then let out a loud sigh. “I need a damn drink.” 

     To this Drew laughed and kissed her on the cheek, while the other cast members started to whoop and holler while applauding the young girl’s words. They too were proud other, they knew of the struggles that she went through and they knew that most of the time she kept those feelings balled up. Madelyn then grabbed the phone and said her goodbyes to the live, then ending it. 

     The blonde then wrapped her arms around her best friend. “I’m so proud of you, babe. That was so badass.”  Madison saw the interaction from across the room and ran over to join them, adding herself to the hug. 

     “It was great, sissy. You really told them who’s boss.” That last comment made Y/n laugh out loud. She was so happy to have a supporting friend and cast group that made her feel loved. She couldn’t have asked for better friends. 

     “It was pretty hot too,” Drew smirked and pulled the young girl away from the group hug and grabbed her face, and gave her a long passionate kiss, something he rarely did in front of others. “I’m proud of you bubba.”

She couldn’t have asked for better friends. 

Or a better boyfriend. 

Don't need to see it to believe it, no need to wake me up, 'cause I'm not dreamin'

     The couple was laying in their bed just enjoying each other’s presence. Limbs all spread around but managing to stay intertwined. Sunlight was seeping into the white-painted room, brightening everything up, including the pair’s mood. Drew was leaning against the headboard very lazily, running his hands through Y/n’s hair,  who was sitting in his lap, thighs down beside his knees, with her head on his chest. Drew had woken up early and tried to get the younger girl out of bed, but she refused to do so. So he decided that he would just deal with it and let her drift back off to sleep, but with a twist.

     It humored the young actor that people thought they weren’t a cuddly and touchy couple. They were absolutely a touchy couple, they just didn’t enjoy being touchy in front of others, some people not being into that and they didn’t want to make anyone feel awkward. It was more a Drew thing. He was the one who suggested they not have a lot of PDA, and while Y/n was all for PDA, she would do anything for Drew to make him happy. At the beginning of their relationship, Y/n was insecure about Drew’s real feelings because he didn’t show much love through touch, but she eventually mentioned it to him. Ever since then he always made it a point to show more affection the second they were alone. Hints their situation now. 

     Drew watched as Y/n started to stir in her sleep. She started to whine and Drew felt her chest start to move a little faster. She was having another nightmare. 

     “Shhh, shhh. You’re ok, it’s ok,” the young man started to rub her back and hold her a little tighter. He wanted the nightmare to stop but he didn’t want to ruin her sleep. “It’s just a dream. You’re ok, bubba.” Drew closed his eyes and gave a small smile when he felt her calm down, turn her head the other direction and hold onto him a little tighter. Despite what the young girl believed, Drew loved the affection that she gave him. Being the oldest of 3 kids, the boy felt like he had to grow up fast and while he knew his parents loved them all equally, he got less of the affection. He had to grow up and become a little man, help his mom prepare dinner, he and logan had to help take care of Brooke and Mackayla. He just thought that he wasn’t a fan to touch, but when it came to Y/n’s touch he couldn’t get enough of it.  

     Drew closed his eyes and relaxed his body, trying to drift off to sleep himself.  He knew he wasn’t dreaming yet, but he never wanted to leave this dream state with her. Getting to love someone like her, was something Drew never even dreamed of but now he was thankful for that. Because no dream could have lived up to the life that he gets to live with the girl that he loves.

[fr-jedicreed]

Inescapable Punishment

TW: Abuse, body horror, gore, hints at sexual abuse

Note--all dragons are in gijinka’d forms, unless otherwise noted!

---

Moen couldn’t remember the last time he felt fresh air on his face. Had he ever been outside? He’d been in his master’s home and business for so long... He couldn’t remember. And...how did he get outside, anyways? Had he walked out of the building? Had Master brought him out here? Why? Master never let him out of the building...

Even his mask was gone. His eyes were covered with a cloth, but the mask was gone. He couldn’t see, but he could feel. And smell. He lifted his head, nose to the air, as he sniffed. So many scents...! What was going on? Curiosity got the best of Moen, and he wandered further. He smelled. He listened. The more he walked, the louder things got. Voices. Moving of carts. Machines. The sounds of footsteps. Moen felt his heart race with excitement. It was all so new...! Why had Master not let him go out? This was amazing!

A rare smile came onto his lips, as he started walking a little faster. He could hear more talking, feel the sun on his face, and--

“Whoa!”

Moen ran into something--someone--and stumbled back, tripping over his own feet, and landing on the ground. The one he ran into didn’t seem angry, though instinctively Moen flinched, tensing up for a blow. Instead, he heard movement, and that someone was close.

“You okay there, buddy? We crashed pretty hard.” they chuckled, though from what Moen could hear, they sounded male...

“M--Moen’s f-fine...” he wheezed, his voice sounding strange without the mask to filter it, making him tilt his head at his own, “Moen’s fine...”

“Strange way of talking, huh?” chuckled the one that was knelt down close to him, “You lost? You seemed to be looking around a bit. Though...erm...’looking’ as an objective term...”

He felt fingertips graze against the cover over his eyes and Moen jerked back, “N--No! D-Don’t touch! Moen’s...M-Moen’s eyes...are damaged. Master is taking care of th-them...”

“Er...Master?”

Moen nodded.

The one he ran into was silent. But before any more words could be uttered, something--someone else--bumped into Moen, nearly causing him to sprawl on the ground. Though he did anyways, as an angry voice hissed out.

“Watch it! Move it, you idiot!”

That was anger. That person was angry. Moen whimpered, covering his head, tensing his body up, ready for the blow. But it never came. The nicer voice spoke up instead, not angry.

“You move it!” he called out, before going back to Moen, “Hey, you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? C’mon, let’s get you out of the street.”

“S-Street...?” Moen raised his head. The ground underneath of him was vibrating slightly, with people, carts, and various other moving objects. Where ever they were, it was busy. Moen slowly stood up, though he flinched, as he felt a hand under his arm, helping him stand.

“Easy, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” said the other. His hand felt warm on Moen’s arm, and he couldn’t help but shake a little, wanting nothing more than to lean into that touch. How long had it been, since he felt a kind touch? Master hadn’t touched him in awhile, especially kindly. Maybe if Moen continued to be good, this one person will touch him some more...

“C’mon, let’s go get you some ice cream. You sound parched...!”

“Ice...Ice cream...?” Moen tilted his head, confused.

“Do...Do you not know what ice cream is?”

Moen shook his head.

The other sighed, but it wasn’t an aggravated sigh, “Man, you are missing out, my deprived friend. Let’s go broaden your horizons!”

--

Minutes later, Moen was sat down, with something cold in his hand. What was this? He moved his head closer to smell it, only to touch it with his nose. The coldness of it startled him, and he jerked his head back with a soft noise. The one next to him chuckled, and he heard him lick.

“Try it! You’re gonna love it, Moen.” he said, chuckling.

Moen tilted his head again, before turning to his ice cream. He moved closer to it once more, and stuck his tongue out, giving the cold treat a lick. Feeling it so cold on his tongue was weird, but it was so...!

“Sweet...!” squeaked Moen, making a happy noise, before going back to his ice cream. The other beside him laughed, gently patting Moen’s shoulder, making him lean into the touch with another noise.

“See? You’ve been missing out!” he laughed, good-naturedly. The two fell quiet for a moment, licking their ice cream, before the other spoke up again, “Say, uh...you keep saying ‘Master’ a lot. Is that literal, or just part of some...erm...play thing...?”

“Master owns me...Moen.” said Moen simply, taking another lick of his ice cream, “Whatever Master says, Moen does. Otherwise, Moen gets punished severely. A-And...And it hurts...”

“He hurts you, Moen?” asked the other, his voice soft and...concerned? Moen hadn’t heard concern in awhile. It made him pause, looking over at the other dragon. Or in his general direction.

“Only if Moen is bad...” wheezed Moen, nodding, “Moen tries t-to be good...honestly...!”

He whimpered, going back to his ice cream, mind flashing with images of the several, horrific punishments that his master had dealt out. He bore the scars of several of them. And his eyes, sewn shut, was another punishment...

“Hey, hey.” That gentle voice came again, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder, “Let me help you. Let me confront this master, and we can get you to freedom, okay?”

Moen whimpered, leaning into that gentle touch again, “B-But...”

“I can handle myself.” He could practically hear the other smile, “I may not look--erm, sound--like it, but I’m pretty strong! C’mon, let’s go have a ‘talk’ with this Master of yours.”

He heard the other stand up, and Moen followed, finishing his ice cream, “Moen’s master is the surgeon of the city. His name is Theadoch.”

“S-Surgeon? That creepy guy I keep hearing talk about?” asked the other, and Moen could feel him shiver.

“Moen’s Master is a good surgeon. Not good with others, but he does great work.”

There was a sound of movement from the other, before he gently took Moen’s hand. Moen almost instinctively jerked his hand back, but he grasped him tightly, fingers trembling as he let the other lead the way. Thoughts of freedom went through Moen’s mind, for the first time.

Would it be nice to be free?

Could he be free?

...Did he deserve to be free...?

It didn’t take them long to get to the building. He heard the other let out a low whistle, as they stopped at the front door, “It’s so creepy. Surgeon building, in the middle of nowhere, in some alleyway... Yeah, not suspicious at all.”

He sighed, and gently squeezed Moen’s hand, “Right, let’s go inside.”

Moen heard the door open, and he smelled the familiarity of the building, his home. His prison(?). They walked further in, and the one with him called out, the volume making him jump.

“Hey! Bastard, I need to talk with you about this guy!” he called out, “What gives you the right to--?!”

It happened so fast. Moen heard the door slam behind them. The other gave a shout. There was...a growl. A low, otherworldly growl. A rush of air.

Then Moen knew no more.

--

Moen woke up to a sharp pain in his side.

He groaned, as he slowly sat up. He felt at the pained side, relieved to feel no wetness. No bleeding. But it still hurt. Probably broken. The next thing he noticed, was there was a strange smell in the air. Moen sniffed, before carefully getting to his feet, holding his side. 

“F-Friend...?” he called out, his voice even more hoarse than before. He couldn’t feel the cover over his eyes. But the more he tried to open them, the more the sutures pulled at his skin, making them hurt. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore, so he kept them shut.

“M-Moen friend...?” he called out again, carefully moving down the hall. The smell was getting stronger. What was that? It was similar to how Theadoch’s operating room smelled, after a surgery. But it was different, at the same time. Either way, something twisted in Moen’s stomach. Something wasn’t right.

Something was very wrong.

“Fr...Frien--”

Moen paused, as his bare foot landed on something wet. It wasn’t water. Too thick to be water. And the smell was very strong now. He curled his toes, making the substance squish between them. He sniffed the air, turning slightly, hands out. When they touched something that wasn’t the wall, he turned towards it. His hands wandered over the thing in front of him.

Soft.

Wet.

Warm.

Moen’s breathing quickened, as his hands continued to explore. Everything felt wet. He felt something hard briefly, but it too, was covered in a wet substance. He heard a whistling noise in front of him. He reached up. He touched a face. 

Horror gripped him, and he let out a strangled, anguished cry, his trembling hands wandering over what used to be a person. What used to be someone who helped him, who talked with him and gave him ice cream. And while his eyes were sewn shut, his tears stung at the sutures.

The one that helped him was practically up on display. His arms were removed, leaving bloody stumps. His legs were degloved, and he was disemboweled. His chest had been ripped open, ribs broken and spread to look like wings coming from the gory hole in his chest. His lungs had been removed, attached to the ribs, as if a hanging decoration. And his throat had been all but ripped out, leaving him no way to scream. To top it off, his spine had been extended, making his head detached from his body, by a few extra vertebrae.

“This is what you get for disobeying me, Moen...”

Moen turned around, just before being backhanded and sent sprawling onto the ground, right into the fluids that coated it. Visceral fluids, not just blood...

Theadoch stood there, Arcane energy crackling around him, menacingly. He was upset. More than upset, he was angry. 

“You disobeyed me, Moen.” he hissed, before snarling, “I never gave you permission to go outside!! Why did you go outside?!”

“M-Moen just...just...” he stammered, before yelping out as he was grabbed by his hair, and pulled to his feet. Barefoot, he slipped on the fluids on the ground, nearly falling, if it wasn’t for the fist in his hair.

“You didn’t think, you useless sack of flesh.” growled Theadoch, shoving Moen aside, “You’re never to go outside without my permission, that should’ve been a given! And now, it’s time to punish you... And you need to be punished in a way that you’ll remember...”

Moen’s eyes widened, and for a split second, he saw through the sutures, as they ripped enough for him to see. The pain and blood in his eyes became too much, and he squeezed them shut, as tears mingled in, “I’m s-s....Moen’s sorry, p-please...! Don’t p-punish me, Master, please....!”

"Oh, there’s no begging out of this one, Moen.” purred the Arcane demon, a wicked grin coming onto his face, “Naughty boys get their guts rearranged, while they lay awake on my table.”

Moen sobbed out, and quickly fell to his knees, moving forward and grabbing a hold of Theadoch’s robes, “Th-Then u-use Moen, please...! I’ll do it, M-Moen won’t say or do anything, u-use me as y-your toy Master...!”

He obediently opened his mouth, drool dripping down, as he moved towards Theadoch’s crotch. But instead of something soft, he got a knee to the mouth as a ‘reward,’ making him cry out, as he sprawled on the ground.

“I’m too pissed to get off, you fool!” shouted Theadoch, stomping forward, “You don’t deserve to taste my dick, or have it inside of you. The only thing that’ll be inside of you, is my hands, as I remove your organs, and place them in reverse order, as you remain awake.”

He grabbed a handful of Moen’s hair, dragging him along. Moen struggled, crying out as he tried to get free. Tears and blood streamed down his cheeks, as he grabbed at Theadoch’s wrist, trying to free himself, his pleas falling on deaf ears.

Freedom was just a dream.

There was no freedom for him.

He let out one final scream, before the door to the surgery room was slammed closed. The force of the door made Moen’s only friend jar so much, that his head finally snapped off of his overextended spine, landing with a loud thud, into his own fluids...

[sheliesshattered]

This Isn’t A Ghost Story - Chapter 1

Whouffaldi non-canon AU. 8 chapters, will be about 32,000 words when complete. Rated Mature for heavier themes in later chapters, please contact me privately if you’re worried about triggering topics. Clara Oswald/Twelfth Doctor. Mystery, pining and angst with a happy ending. Available on AO3 under the same username and title. Updates every Friday.

This Isn’t A Ghost Story

Chapter 1: The House

14 November 2014, London

There was a certain amount of irony, Clara reflected, that her first reaction was I’m going to kill him.

Her ‘special friend’ had just cost her the sale of her late grandmother’s house. Again. This had to be roughly the twelfth adorable family or nice couple that had stepped into her ancestral family home only to turn tail and run before they’d even had a chance to hear about the antique hardwood floors or the fully restored kitchen. At this point, he wasn’t even being subtle about it anymore.

The longer the house sat on the market, the fewer calls she was getting to schedule walk-throughs of the property. She was beginning to worry that word of the house’s strangeness was getting around the local real estate community. If things kept up at this rate, she was going to end up permanently saddled with an inheritance whose tax burden she could barely afford, in the form of a one hundred and thirty year old, gorgeous, sprawling, haunted house.

Clara used her key to let herself in through the ornate front door, grumbling under her breath. As soon as she closed the door behind her, the cabinets in the kitchen began to rattle ominously.

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, dropping her purse and keys on the small table in the foyer. “It’s just me.”

The door to one of the bedrooms upstairs slammed shut.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands and counted to ten before looking up again. “Listen, I get that you’re cross with me for bringing people by, but I am beyond livid with you, so let’s skip the part where I yell and you throw things and just agree to be angry with each other in silence, okay?”

The house went quiet in a manner entirely too creepy for her liking. If not for the undercurrent of petulant passive-aggressiveness, she might have actually been scared.

Not that Clara had ever really been scared of the ghost that lived in her Gran’s house. He had never once made her feel unsafe, not since she’d first spoken to him as a small child. But the sudden silence was still unnerving. 

“Well, good,” she said into the preternatural stillness, more to prove to herself that she wasn’t scared than anything else. “It’s nice to actually be able to hear myself think, for a change.”

The top step of the staircase creaked once, as if to make a point.

“Still shut up,” she grumbled.

She went about the short list of tasks she’d come to see to, putting away the food she’d set out for the potential home buyers, watering the plants, closing the curtains, and flicking on a few lamps to make the house look lived-in. Of course, she didn’t envy anyone who tried to break into the house while it sat apparently empty. At some level, a poltergeist was better home protection than a dog could ever be. 

Her chores complete, Clara returned to the foyer to find her purse where she’d left it, but her keys conspicuously missing. She sighed, hands on her hips, and turned towards the cold spot she could feel forming near the foot of the stairs. He was nothing but a faint wispy outline in the direct light of the setting sun filtering through the stained glass window over the front door, but even that outline was familiar enough that Clara was able to find his eyes and fix him with a displeased glare.

“Where are my keys?” she demanded. She still hadn’t forgiven him for his behaviour earlier, and she was in no mood to play find-the-lost-trinket tonight.

“I didn’t want you to leave before I could apologise,” the ghost said, not quite meeting her gaze. His voice raised gooseflesh along her arms, as usual, but she much preferred the low rumble of his Scottish brogue to the slamming of doors and rattling of cupboards. Not that she would ever openly admit that to him.

“So apologise and tell me where you’ve hidden my keys!”

“Clara,” he said, and she clenched her teeth against the shivery reaction she always had to the way he said her name, like it had been invented just so he could say it. There were days when she lived for that rush — and many, many lonely nights, in her love-struck teenaged years — but today was absolutely not one of them.

“...Was there more to that sentence?” she asked when he didn’t go on. “Saying my name does not constitute an apology.”

He glanced up at her, looking increasingly solid as the sunlight waned. “I’m sorry I upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No, your intention was to make certain I can’t sell this house, and don’t bother to deny it.”

He chewed his incorporeal lip for a moment, then shrugged. “I won’t deny it. I don’t want you to sell the house. But I’m still sorry I upset you.”

Clara sighed. “I have to sell it. You know this. And someday, someone too brave or too stupid to fall for all your clattering will decide to buy this place, and that’ll be that.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, his eyes glinting blue in the gathering dusk.

“It’s the reality of the situation, so you’d best start making peace with it,” she said evenly. Another irony not lost on her: arguing the state of reality with a man dead nearly a century. “Now, where are my keys?”

Her ghost hesitated. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “You could stay?”

“I never stay the night in this house. That was your advice to me, more than twenty years ago. No sense in breaking with tradition.”

“I think maybe I was being overly paranoid at the time.”

“And I think maybe you’re acting like a lonely old man now,” Clara snarked back.

“Alone in a house that you of all people are dead-set on evicting me from? I can’t imagine why I’d be lonely!” 

“It’s not like you’re stuck here! You’re not tied to the house, you can go anywhere you want!”

“But it’s my house!”

“Keys, now!” she snapped. “Traffic is already going to be horrendous—”

“All the more reason to stay,” he said petulantly.

“But,” she went on forcefully, speaking over him, “tomorrow’s Saturday, so I have the day off work. If you tell me where my keys are, I’ll come back first thing in the morning. I still need to finish going through all those old boxes in the attic. We can spend the day working on that together, okay?”

“You’re going to drive all the way home only to turn around and come back in the morning? Why not just—”

“Or I could spend the day doing something fun with people my own age, very far away from here,” she bluffed. “Your choice.”

“Oh, fine,” he said, shoulders sagging. “Your keys are hidden in the parlour, I’ll show you where.”

“Thank you,” she said mildly, and followed him into the next room.

--

As promised, Clara arrived back at her grandmother’s house early the next morning, take-away coffee cup in hand. There had been a moment, whilst she stood in the queue to order, when she’d found herself thinking she ought to get two coffees, bring her ghost a peace offering to smooth over their row from the night before. Thankfully she’d realised how ridiculous that sounded before it was her turn to order, but she still felt strangely off balance as she unlocked the front door and let herself in, like she had forgotten something important.

“Hey,” she called to the empty house, as soon as she closed the door behind her. “It’s just me, no need to go rattling the hinges on my account.”

Her ghost appeared in a shadowy corner of the foyer, smiling at her shyly. “Good morning, my Clara,” he said. “You look lovely today. Have you had a wash?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to ignore the somersaulting of her heart at the way he said her name. My Clara. “Why are you being nice?”

“Because it works on you,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “And because I really am sorry about yesterday,” he added.

“Well, apology accepted,” Clara said. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you. The process of selling this place has been entirely too stressful, and I’m really starting to worry it won’t happen before the property taxes are due,” she sighed.

He ran a semi-transparent hand through the short curls at the back of his head, the ring he wore on his left hand briefly catching the light. “Yeah, about that...”

She winced. “What did you do?”

“The post came early today,” he said, voice even more apologetic than before. “I didn’t open it, but one of the envelopes has a rather official looking return address. I put it on the dining room table for you.”

She left her keys and purse on the table by the door and trudged off to the dining room, unable to contain her groan when she saw the envelope in question. Opening it, she found that he was right: property taxes were due in six weeks, the total even higher than she had anticipated. It was more than she made in a month at her teaching job. Even with the small amount she had stashed away in savings, she would hardly be able to pay it and the rent on her flat, and still expect to feed herself.

“What about the rest of your inheritance?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“I put it all into fixing up this place to sell,” she said.

“Which I’ve made impossible,” he murmured.

Clara covered her face with her hands, trying not to cry and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Yes, he was the reason she hadn’t been able to sell the house to any of the dozen or so buyers who had shown initial interest. But he was also the only one in her life who even knew or cared what she was going through.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she told him honestly, still hiding behind her hands. “If I don’t pay it, they’ll just add late fees on top of that already ridiculously large sum. If I can’t sell the house soon...”

She felt a cold touch drift across the back of her hands, felt her hair stir in a nonexistent breeze, and wished, not for the first time in her life, that her ‘special friend’ was the sort of friend who could offer a hug when she so desperately needed one.

“I don’t suppose there’s a secret stash of diamonds in the attic?” she asked him, only half joking. “Or a map to buried treasure?”

“You are descended from a line of exceptionally adventuresome women,” he replied, voice sounding distant and thoughtful. “I haven’t been up to the attic in years. I don’t know what all is in there, but anything is possible.”

Clara dropped her hands from her face and squared her shoulders, not looking at her ghost until she was certain she wouldn’t spontaneously burst into tears. “Well, let’s hope there’s something up there that will help.”

--

The attic had never been Clara’s favourite place in her Gran’s house, cramped and dusty and full of ancient boxes that gave off a far creepier vibe than the literal ghost had ever managed to do. But on the plus side, it was also windowless, dim enough that he was able to appear to her in a fairly solid state and even move lightweight objects as though he were a real person existing in the real world.

She had removed the larger pieces from the attic weeks ago, furniture and blanket chests and trunks of old clothing, all sorted through and donated to charity or brought back to her flat, or else restored to the best of Clara’s ability and set out to decorate the house in a manner befitting its age. All that remained were boxes of keepsakes, photographs and journals and old letters, small family things that required far more of her attention to sort through. 

Despite the lingering threat of the taxes due, it was a pleasant morning, sitting together amidst the papers and dust, slowly uncovering the history of her family, layer on layer, like an archaeologist digging through levels of sediment. Her Gran had spent her entire life in this house, from the time she was a baby, used it as a homebase during her adventurous youth, married and raised her own daughter in it, and continued to live in it after her husband died. The boxes that littered the attic bore witness to all those many decades.

“Oh my god, these photos of Mum,” Clara said, turning the yellowed album towards her ghost so he could see them, in all their early 1970s glory. “She must have been, what, about fifteen in these?”

“Ellie’s first formal school dance,” he confirmed, leaning in to examine the photos. “With that older boy, I forget his name. Your grandfather did not approve.”

Clara snorted. “Can’t say I blame him. Look at those sideburns. I’m not sure I would have let her go out with him at all.”

“They had a huge row about it, if I remember correctly. In the end, your grandmother took your mother’s side, and she was allowed to go.”

“Why didn’t you ever appear to any of them?” she asked, flipping through the pages and pausing to linger on what looked to be polaroids of a rugby game. “You were here all that time, but you never talked to anyone until I came along?”

He shrugged. “You were the only one that was you.”

“Thanks. That clears it right up.”

“It’s the only answer I’ve got,” he objected.

“I scared the daylights out of Mum and Gran when I told them about you, I was probably all of six years old at the time.”

“Five, I think,” he said quietly.

“God, five. I might have a heart attack if my five year old started talking very confidently about her special friend the ghost that lives at Gran’s house.”

“I seem to remember advising you against telling them.” 

“And in all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever taken your advice?” she asked archly.

“Hmm. There was that one time you actually listened to me, about that chap you were dating, what’s-his-name.”

Clara winced, remembering it all too well. “I thought we agreed never to speak of him again.”

“Gladly,” her ghost replied emphatically.

She shook her head, more than happy to dismiss the subject. “As a child it didn’t make sense to me not to tell Mum and Gran about you. You live in Gran’s house, the house where Mum grew up, I just assumed they already knew about you. I mean, why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m not sure I could have talked to them, even if I’d wanted to. And I never did want to.”

Clara turned her gaze to him, studying his face in the dimness. Without direct sunlight, he looked almost human, almost alive, the blue of his eyes and the salt and pepper of his hair appearing so very real, so very close at hand. He still seemed as ageless to her now as he had when she was a child. Ageless and ancient, wise and funny, solemn and sardonic. She thought perhaps she knew his face better than any other, living or dead.

“But why didn’t you ever want to talk to them?” she pressed.

“Why do you need a key to enter the house?” he asked in response.

She felt her eyebrows come together in consternation. “Because the door is locked.”

“But why that key?”

“Because... that’s the key that fits. That’s the key that goes with that lock.”

He shrugged, most of his attention on the page of the journal he’d been perusing. “You are the key that fits. I can’t give you a better answer than that.”

--

Chapter 2: The Box

[sxveme-2]

hidden // din djarin

description: the life of nobility wasn't one for everyone. some would rather duck under the shadows around them, especially after a great betrayal to the name of a planet. but despite being hidden, not everyone can avoid the blinding lights of danger. whether it be those after those who had escaped, or the poor bounty hunter who ended up picking her up. both with a large bounty on their heads.    follow Cloak as she lives the days as an escaped noble, hiding from the eyes of serenno after the fall of count dooku, shacking up with one of the most sought after child and the mandalorian unfortunate enough to have a big heart.

Chapter two: the one with her new job

warnings: swearing

words: 3016

       "shining light, come see me." her mother cooed, beckoning the young girl towards her bed in the large and grand room around her. her voice was weak and cracked halfway through, the effects of her illness continuing to push through the inevitable strength the queen had.

       the young ten year old pushed off of the chair where she sat, reading a classic serennian tale to her mother. shutting the leather bound book, she hopped off of her tufted chair and walked towards the woman. her deep blue gown shifted around her gently, tickling at her bare ankles as she took a seat on the satin comforter that covered her mothers weak and failing body. those cold hands found themselves on the supple and tanned hands of the queens sole child. they were skeletal like, and she felt sick just thinking about it.

      "can I ask a favour of you?" the dying woman whispered out, eyes fluttering shut before being forced open once more. those same eyes that reflected in the youngers head.

      "of course mama." she whispered, eyes watering at the state of the woman she idolized.

      "I need you to take care of the children in the galaxy, when I am gone." the cooed, voice falling weaker with each syllable, "you are always so great with them."

       "mama don't say that, you'll be okay. father has the best doc- "

       "don't play the fool, my shining light," the queen laughed weakly, "I grow weaker with each breath. you mustn't let your ideals blind the reality of the situation. it will only hurt more if you do so. I need you to promise this for me though...please."

        "I promise mama." she whispered back, watching the light in her mothers eyes fail to exist as her own name fell from the queens lips for the last time.

-----

       "I don't do being a nanny." she stated, going to turn away.

       a part of her longed to take the job. to fulfill a promise she made more than a decade ago to a dying woman. a dying icon. but she couldn't bare to do it. she knew that if she took the job that the death would be true, that she fulfilled the dying wish of her. reliving the light draining from her eyes. hearing her name spoken from loved lips the last time. it killed a part of her every time she took the job to watch the children of the town. but those were children of her area, and were at most two days. this...this was a full time job. along with healing and caring for the hunk of metal that had dropped into the hanger that same day.

       a tug on her cloak turned her back around.

      "Cloak you're stuck in a rut here. I can't stand seeing you wake up and wander the sand dunes everyday searching for something you won't find here. out there, out in the galaxy, you can. and you will." peli stated, "I won't let you turn this down. I just won't."

       "who said I even agreed?" that same robotic like voice called from beside her.

       "I did," peli scoffed, "because you trust my judgement. Cloak here is an amazing healer and amazing with kids. you can't keep bringing him with you on missions.  you're taking her." the mechanic concluded, dusting her hands off.

       "...how much would I have to pay her?" the man asked.

       she stared at him with eyebrows furrowed and nose creased. she didn't want the job...no, that's not true. she wanted the job. she didn't want the commitment. it was too long for her. because she'd be fulfilling that damn promise. the promise of a dead queen. eighteen years later or not, she had yet to come to terms with the loss. because it was after that loss that her entire life fell down a hill. it ate her alive everyday, knowing there must have been something she could do to stop it. but there wasn't. as far as she knew, the death was caused by an illness naturally, no foul play involved. but her heart didn't believe it, it didn't make sense. not with how fast her father married another and began another family.

        "substantial, maybe even a bit handsomely. when I tell you she's the best, I mean it. no one would be able to come within an inch of the little guy without meeting the maker." peli chuckled, turning her attention back to her, "you're going, Cloak. would you rather die on this desert like the rest of us?"

       "yes."

       "oh don't be like that. you're taking it. now come, let's pack you up."

-----

       she could have just refused. hopped on her speeder with reddan and sped off across the planet and found some town to plant her roots. or be killed by tusken raiders. either worked for her. but instead, she found herself lugging a bag onto a newly some-what repaired razor crest alongside a mandalorian and a little green child. with a new title to her name. caregiver. she was now in charge of keeping the child alive alongside mando. someone who she already disliked a bit anyways. he was too...she wasn't sure. she just knew it wasn't him she was doing this for. she took the job, or was forced into taking it, mostly because she could just tell the kid would be better off. but also, she could hear her mother reaming her from the other side. despite her convincing herself she would never fulfill the promise, she had already. sort of. with the children of tatooine. but she knew the risks of expanding off of tatooine, and letting herself be known elsewhere in the world.

       "this place is a mess." she muttered, dropping her bag and looking around the ship, "I may very well be a blessing for you."

       "not if you keep talking, you won't be." he scoffed, walking past her and up a ladder towards what she could assume was the cockpit.

      she watched as he walked up. hearing the door to the cockpit shut, she ducked into the refresher. pulling off the large hood of her cloak and ditching the goggles, she let out a satisfying breath as her mask fell from her face. chocolate brown hair fell into her eyes as she stared at the small mirror in front of her. she saw the dead queens reflection in her own, her mother. the two looked so much alike. hazel eyes with a dominant hue of green. a perfectly swooped nose. cupids bow lips that were full and plump. her own were chapped and rough now, from five years of hiding underneath a mask on a dry planet. her high cheekbones sat perfectly under her eyes. whenever she saw them she remembered how clearly she could see her mothers on the final days of her life.

       she hated her face for those very reasons.

       her mother was the best person she had ever known. she was kind and caring, stern but nurturing. she cared for her more than her father ever had. the queen would read her to sleep every night, even when she became ill. she would wander into her mothers chambers and sleep with her many nights, especially near the end. her mother was unable to walk most of the time, so she simply was read to sleep in her bed. it wasn't like her father would wind up in it anyways. on her mothers final day, she read to her the entire day. feeling as though she needed it more.

       a day didn't go by where she didn't miss her. the warm smile. the soft touches. the hugs. the tea parties. the soft singing voice. her kind words. everything. everything about the queen made her heart break. because she knew she'd never be that person to someone. a family wasn't anywhere in her sights. she could barely look at herself in the mirror, let alone fall in love with someone enough to raise a family. she didn't need to be that person. she'd rather be the lone caretaker and runaway. not having any real identity or attachment to someone.

       "if you're done in there. I'll show you where you'll sleep." mando called through the steel door between them.

        sliding her mask on over her mouth and nose and over her forehead, and returning her goggles to her forehead, she slid the navy blue cloak along her arms and pinned it in the front, pulling the hood over her head before sliding open the door to reveal the warrior. nodding quickly, the two made their way around a few boxes to a tiny cot she would be sleeping on.

       "mind if I hang a curtain up around it." she stated, not waiting for an answer as she hooked a spare piece of fabric onto a few chains and attached it to a pipe above the bed, "don't need you creeping around."

        "don't flatter yourself." he grumbled, crossing his arms, "we're heading to nevarro. there's only so much peli could do. though if you had actually helped maybe there could've been more done."

        "alright buckethead let's not get ahead of ourselves." she muttered, bending down and picking up the child, "does this thing have a name?"

        "grogu. and he's not a thing."

        "...well then what is he?"

        "I don't know." he concluded, before walking back up the ladder. leaving her alone with the small creature she was now tasked to look after.

        dropping her head down, her eyes caught those large brown ones of the child. a smile broke out on her face as he showed his small teeth in a wide grin. she had to admit, he was really cute, and very loveable already. the way he would tilt his head or make small noises at her. how his sack like clothing covered his miniature body. her heart melted a bit each time he would coo at her and smile. until he would go and grab at her mask, like in that instance.

        "okay kid, you're cute but we've got to work on boundries."

-----

      "ever been here?" mando asked as the razor crest touched down on the planet.

      readjusting the dark blue material of her cloak, she glanced over at him from underneath her goggles, "no. and please don't try to be friendly. I know you don't want me as much as I don't want to be here."

      "just making conversation," he muttered, opening up the hatch, "if you don't want to be here why'd you take the job?"

       picking up grogu and tucking him into her arm, she let out a forced chuckle, "I guess I just had a promise to fulfill."

       without another word, the two walked from the ship out into the heat of nevarro. it was true, had never been to the planet. she had been to many places all across the galaxy, being who she was and all.  she visited lesser planets to listen to her father and his wife make false promises, all while their children and her would stand by idly. she would often find herself wandering off from the family and giving loose credits to the young children and told them stories. those were her favourite memories, where she was alone and had the resources to give to those who never had enough, while she had plenty.

        the two stepped down onto the dark ground, and the young child in her arms cooed. she smiled gently under her mask as they walked forward, readjusting the beige sack on her shoulder with the child's things. she wasn't sure what he exactly needed other than food, and that she could have just left on the ship or purchased something for him. but alas, mando had handed it to her so she didn't argue...he was sort of her boss now. despite the fact she will most likely not be listening to most of the things he told her to do. worst comes to worst, he drops her back off at tatooine.

         "look who it is." a woman's voice called as they continued walking forward, "nice to see you again, mando. who's this?"

         "hello cara," he returned, before glancing down at the girl carrying the kid, "this is um...I actually don't, know her name."

         "Cloak." she stepped in, reaching her free hand forward, "just call me Cloak. nice to meet you." she introduced, shaking the woman's hand.

         she lowered her eyes slightly at the woman before her. her voice seemed familiar, something that she could have sworn she had heard before. wracking her mind, she wasn't sure where but everything about her seemed so familiar. nothing seemed to pop up, but the words she spoke and the way she held herself as well as her stature was something that she knew. back on her home planet she had had stormtroopers at her home, due to threats and different things. and the tattoo on cara's arm gave her clue to her past. there had to be some co-relation...but she supposed right now wasn't the time for her to dive deep into her own past.

         "nice to meet you, Cloak." she smiled, nodding down at the child she was carrying, "so are you this little guys new mom or something?"

         "caretaker." mando stated, brushing past the two and walking further into the town that laid ahead of the group.

        letting out a sigh, she nodded and looked up at the taller woman, "yes. I'm here to take care of the child and make sure he doesn't get himself killed, I supposed." she hummed, readjusting the child.

         "it's nice to see he's gotten help, come on. let's let the mechanics finish up the job." cara hummed, gesturing for her to follow along as they walked behind the man,"...so you two like a thing or am I reading the tension wrong?"

        a small cringe flexed on her face at the idea of anyone reading them anything like a couple or something like that. the two had only really known each other for a day or so. and the only reason either agreed was because both trusted peli's judgement and her own deep and philosophical growth within. there was nothing romantic and she was almost repulsed at the idea of ever being romantic with him. she wasn't a fan of his pompous attitude and she was sure he wasn't a fan of not knowing what she looked like as a security measure. she was sure if there were anyway, he would scan every record in the galaxy to learn who she was. however...she would do anything in the galaxy to ensure he never did.

        "no," she stated simply, "no nothing of the sorts. I don't enjoy sitting in the same room with him for more than a few minutes at a time." she shrugged, glancing to the side at the woman.

        "I see," cara nodded, "kid seems to like you. that's what's most important to him." the brunette chuckled, "though we won't stray too far for the first while. that kid is the most important thing to him."

       she nodded and looked down at the little wrinkled green kid in her arms. she smiled softly under her mask, running her gloved thumb gently over his forehead and chuckling at the little noises he made. the way he would grab at her finger and smile whenever the two locked eyes. but he had yet to get over his habit of trying to grab at her mask and she figured he never would. she would have preferred that he grabbed at her hood instead, seeing as that was simply an extra precaution to hide her identity. he was one hundred percent taking over her heart, and she knew she had already become attached to the child. but the man that came with him? she wasn't entirely sure yet.

       she recalled how she was with her own half brother. the two seemed similar. there was a large age gap between her and the young boy that her father created with the witch of a woman she called her step-mother. both were very grabby and smiley, and were able to brighten the room or galaxy with simply a smile. nodine was his name. she loved him very much, and a part of her wondered how someone like her younger brother had come from people such as her father and step mother, let alone related to the monster that was her half sister. the venom that now seeped through the veins of her old family was only slightly cured by that bright smile and kind words of nodine. he was the one thing that made her second guess her fleeing from her home planet. she pondered taking him with her, but she knew it would be no life for a kid like him. he deserved a life of stability and comfort. maybe that was another reason she found herself inclined to take the job with mando and grogu.

      "well I promise I'll take good care of him.  I do quite enjoy children." she stated simply, readjusting her position holding the child once more.

      "he definitely seems like he likes you." cara stated, "now c'mon. why don't we get you and the little guy something to eat hm?"

       nodding along, the two continued walking along closely to mando, only to find themselves paused right out front of a stall where mando was meeting with another man. he was taller and had a seemingly warm smile. she was slightly hesitant, for the air around the two men seemed a bit tense as they spoke in a hushed tone. glancing over at cara once more, she noticed the girl had wandered forward to the group. yet hadn't invited her. as much as she wanted to walk forward and join the trio as well, she figured it wasn't exactly her place. sighing softly, she bounced the young child her arms, glancing down at a bit of fruit at another one of the stalls. only to be interrupted by the large man of metal.

       "we have a job here."

[neerasrealm]

Fresh Start

A story about Sally Williams finding a new home with an- odd pair of men. Fun fact but I’ve rewritten this story twice because I couldn’t decide on how to write this- I wanted it to be as good as possible and I think I’m happy with this version.

Word count: 1651

Laughing Jack hummed softly to himself as he quietly played his accordion. He had no song in mind, it was just aimless chords without meaning. It was dark now, the sun had gone down, and there was nobody in the park save for some teens or late night joggers. 

Looking down at his accordion, he realised someone was watching him. He looked to the side to meet the bright, green eyes watching him. The eyes belonged to a girl, who could only be about ten years old, wearing a pink dress. She had messy brown hair that fell in curls just past her shoulders. He smiled at her.

"Well 'ello there." He greeted. "Can I 'elp ya, kiddo?"

"...I like your music." She said softly. He smiled and tilted his head. 

"I recognize ya," he said. "Weren' you wiv th' other kids earlier, when I was givin' ou' balloons?"

She nodded and held up the balloon dog Jack had made for her earlier. She smiled, just a little bit. He chuckled.

"Wha're ye doin' down 'ere so la'e, Sally? Shouldn' ye be a' 'ome wiv yer ma an' da?" He asked. Sally's smile dropped and she looked at the ground. Jack frowned. "...'ave ya...go' a ma an' da?"

Sally sniffled. Jack watched tears fall from her eyes. He scooted up the bench and patted the space next to him. "Ey, i's alrigh', come ta Jackie." He said softly. Sally climbed onto the bench next to him, holding her balloon animal and an old stuffed bear. She hugged both of them tight as she cried quietly. Jack wrapped an arm around the girl and pet her head. "Shh, i's alrigh', Jackie's 'ere."

Sally snuggled close against him, her crying getting louder. The clown hugged her tight, rubbing circles into her back. The poor girl- she felt deathly cold, and so small- though that could've just been that Jack was very tall. 

Sally buried her face in Jack's shirt. He smelled of lavender and the rain. The smell was a small comfort. As she cried Jack could only watch in horror as a bloody gash formed in her head. Blood trickled down her face and through her beautiful brown hair. He reached into his puffy sleeve and pulled out a rag. He wiped blood from her face the best he could. 

Sally probably wasn't human like he'd initially thought. 

"Do ya 'ave anywhere ta go, kiddo?" He asked softly.

"I-I can go h-home but- my mo- my mom and d-dad moved aw-away." She managed to say in between sobs. Jack nodded slowly. "The n-ne-new people c-call me sc-scary." Her sobbing got more intense as she spoke. Jack hugged her tighter.

"Well tha's no' very nice…" He murmured. He stared down at her. He couldn't just leave this girl alone. Human or not, it wasn't right to leave a child alone in a park all night and day. It went against the very reason he existed. "E-Ey kiddo, 'ow abou' ye stay wiv me fer t'night?" He asked. Sally sniffled and looked up at him. "Wouldja like tha'?" 

"Okay." She replied oh so softly. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Jack scooped her up into his arms and held her close. He adjusted the strap on his accordion so it hung off his back rather than front, and stood up. 

"Ya like piggy-back rides?" He asked with a small grin. Sally seemed to brighten up a bit. She nodded, and Jack lifted her up onto his shoulders. "Now ya can see th' whole park." He chirped. Sally sniffled and grinned down at the clown. 

                                                       ××××××

"Jack? Where are we going?" Sally asked. Jack had walked halfway across town and was now casually sauntering through a building site near the edge of the forest. 

"Hm? Oh! I live in th' woods, wiv a frien'." Jack smiled up at her.

"A friend?"

"Yeh! 'Is name's Slender. 'E's a bi' grumpy, bu' you'll like 'im." Jack replied. "Don' tell 'im I said this, bu' 'e 'as a sof' spo' fer kids."

Sally looked down at the clown curiously. "Will he like me?" She asked.

"Will 'e like ya?" He asked incredulously. "Of course 'e will! Slen loves kiddos, almos' as much as I do." Jack grinned up at her. "Th' two of us are gonna be fussin' over ya nigh' an’ day."

He made his way deep into the forest, with Sally clinging close to him. Jack patted her head reassuringly. Poor thing- he could tell why she'd be scared, being taken into the woods by someone she didn't know well after...well he didn't exactly know what had happened to her, but he knew it couldn't be good. Luckily, they soon came upon a clearing. Sitting in the middle of it was a large house. It was practically a castle to Sally.

"Tha's our gaf." Jack said, pointing.

"It's so big…" Sally murmured. Jack smiled.

"Sure is! Plen'y o' room fer ya t' run aroun'." He chirped. He walked to the door and opened it. Stepping inside, Sally stared around the giant living room. There was a couch, a couple armchairs, a very primitive tv, even by 70s standards and...well, not much else. The house seemed to be empty. 

"Slen, I'm 'ome." Jack called out as he walked towards a door next to the couch.. He grabbed Sally from his shoulders and held her against his chest instead as he opened the door. The girl looked around quickly, green eyes shining curiously. 

"Oh, Ja-" standing in the kitchen was a tall man in a suit. His skin was completely white, and his proportions were so unnatural- his arms and legs were far too long for anyone to realistically have. The thing that freaked Sally out the most, however, was his face, or rather- his lack of one. Sally clung tighter to Jack, staring in horror as this monster in front of her stared right back. In a movement too smooth and quick for any person, he crossed the room. "Jack, who is that?"

"This is Sally! Ain't she a righ' cu'e basin o' gravy?" Jack chirped back, adjusting his hold on Sally. 

"Jack, you can't just take random children! Especially here! Now she'll know about everyone living in these woods and tell all the other children and-" Slender's angry and panicked rant was cut off by Jack extending an arm and placing his index finger where Slender's lips would be.

"Cool i', china pla'e. I didn' 'alf inch 'er because she's cu'e, if ye're finkin' tha'." Jack replied. His accent seemed to thicken while talking to Slender. "She 'asn't go' anywhere ta go. 'Er ma an' da are gone."

Slender was quiet for a few moments before sighing. He rubbed his featureless face in irritation. "Alright, alright…" He looked from Jack to Sally. He tilted his head at her. "Well- hello Sally, I suppose you're staying with us for now." He said, softer this time. Sally still flinched away from him. 

"Ah, don' be scared o' 'im, Slen wouldn' 'ur' a 'air on yer 'ead." Jack said, rubbing Sally's back soothingly. He grinned at his friend. "Ain' tha' righ', Slen?"

Slender seemed to become distressed for a moment and he stepped away from Jack and Sally. "Oh I'm- I'm sorry I should've assumed you'd be scared...I always forget about that-" he glanced away nervously for a moment. He held out a hand to Sally. "I'm Slender. It's a pleasure to meet you, little one. I- apologize for the bad first impression, Jack can be...impulsive, at times."

Jack muttered something to himself and rolled his eyes. Sally looked at him and smiled, then at Slender's hand. She hesitated, then reached out to shake it. Her entire hand was barely bigger than Slender's palm. After she pulled away from the handshake she heard Jack chuckle, and she looked up at the clown.

"Ye okay, Slen?"

"Small…"

Jack barked a laugh and reached out, patting Slender's shoulder. "Ye big softie." He murmured affectionately. Slender shot him a look and adjusted his tie, trying to regain his composure. Sally giggled at the two of them.

"How old are you, dear?"

"Ten." Sally replied. Slender made an- odd- noise that made Jack snicker. 

"God she's only a toddler-"

"Ten year ol's aren' toddlers, Slen." Laughing Jack said. Slender ignored him. 

"Can we get you anything, Sally? A drink? Are you hungry?" He asked. Sally smiled shyly at all the attention. Sure her parents had treated her like a princess but this? This was the kind of fawning only a queen got. 

"Toast would be nice." She said. "And- warm milk…?"

Slender, despite his lack of face, seemed to radiate happiness. "Of course!" He chirped maybe a bit too eagerly. He turned and quickly moved to the fridge, pulling out some bread and a carton of milk. 

Sally watched him curiously as Jack moved to the dining table and took a seat. Sally was dropped into his lap. She looked up at him while he rubbed her cheek with the back of a finger. Sally hugged her bear and balloon animal as she looked around.

"Does anyone else live here?" She asked. Jack shook his head.

"Nah." He replied. "We've always wan'ed more though...lo'sa kiddos runnin' aroun' th' gaf, like a big ol' fam'ly." The clown smiled down at Sally. 

"What's a gaf?" Sally asked. Jack wheezed in amusement. 

"A 'gaf' is a house," Slender said. "I only understand him because I've known him too long." He added, nodding his head at the clown. Jack grinned at Slender.

"Ah, ye luv me." He said. Slender squinted at him.

"Well that's news to me."

Jack wheezed again, cackling loudly in amusement. Sally giggled in his lap. She liked these two, as strange as they were. Maybe- just maybe- this could be a fresh start. She'd like that.

[whatwouldyourbiasdo]

Finding Cinderella | Series | Chapter Four

Title: Finding Cinderella

Pairings: Donghae x reader,(Primary) Heechul x reader (Secondary), Kyuhyun x reader (Secondary)

Author’s Note: I have been planning this story for a while but have been battling many writers’ blocks in doing so. This story will mainly focus on Donghae and the reader but will have branching stories between Heechul, Kyuhyun and two secondary OC characters.

Sidenote: Yes, this series will include Kangin and Sungmin. This was originally started back when the two of them were still active members and in my heart they will always be members so I will include them wherever I see fit.

“Cheers!”

Both girls smiled as they clinked their shot glasses with a clear sound before pouring it down in one shot. After Eunmi finished work they met up by a little food and soju stall not far from her office there the two regularly met up if their planning allowed it for some much needed mindless fun.

“Ah… You have no idea how much I needed this!” Miya stretched her arms above her head with a soft groaning sound before reaching out for a piece of dukbokki. “I have been living on coffee and power bars for the last week!”

“That bad, huh?” Eunmi mused as she reached over for the bottle and poured in some more in both their glasses.

“Are you kidding?! I swear, they just decided to fit as much new stuff in the last week before exams and just expect you to catch up on time!” She slammed her fist onto the table as a growl escaped her lips, “It’s like they want us to fail!”

“Are you sure it’s not because you’ve been dozing off during lectures and now realize that the things they tried to teach you were actually kind of important?” The redhead snickered as she twirled the piece of dukbokki in front of her own face thoughtfully. Knowing her friend, especially from the brief time they spent together taking the same classes, her mind was usually everywhere except with the class.

“Yah!” The dark haired girl glared at her friend as she casually kicked her leg underneath the table. “You hush and be glad you don’t have to deal with that stress anymore!”

“Oh, like I’m living the lazy dream,” Eunmi scoffed, finally stuffing the piece of dukbokki in her mouth and chewing on it with a soft hum before continuing. “I have been on my feet running all over the place for the last couple of weeks trying to get stuff arranged for that party event.”

“At least at the end of it all you get to attend your own party!”

“You mean, I will get the honor of supervising the party,” A sigh escaped her lips as the realisation hit her hard. Sure, the party was meant for artists, celebrities, fans AND staff but since working for the company she couldn’t remember a single instance in which she was able to enjoy any event they organised. If she was even present, she was busy running around armed with a clipboard and her Bluetooth headset.

“Didn’t you say it was held on your day off, before?”

“Yes, but I think I’ll just not attend instead,” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, mindlessly poking a piece of food with her plastic fork. ”The moment they see me, they can’t help but ask me to do stuff.”

“So?” Miya’s brow shot up as her eyes focused on the piece of dukbokki her friend had been poking, reaching over with her own fork as she tried to push her friend’s away. “Just tell them no, it’s your day off and it’s your right to party hard with the idols!”

“And lose my job? No thanks!” She let out a soft laugh, quickly followed by a cringing whine as she sunk in her seat. “And I think it’s better if I don’t bump into any idols anymore… I make such a fool out of myself.”

“Hah!” Miya exclaimed proudly as she had succeeded in sticking her fork in the dukbokki and held it up in triumph, happily showing it into her mouth. “Anymore? Hold up, who did you bump and how did it feel?!”

“I don’t want to talk about it...”

“Ya~ah! As your best friend and wifey I have a right to know if I’m going to lose you to a famous hottie or not!” Miya protested as she once again stomped her hand onto the table, almost knocking over the glasses of soju in the process.

“Oh, now you’re my wifey again?” Eunmi stared at her skeptically, “But when I ask you to buy my coffee you suddenly don’t know I even exist!”

“Hey! I am a poor college kid, I barely have time to buy myself coffee, let alone buy yours too!”

“I was going to pay you back later that day!” Eunmi clicked her tongue. “And so you choose your own needs over your wifey? Aishhh, this is the person I married?”

“Yes, and until you tell me what guy I have to give you away to, you’re stuck with me!” She grinned proudly as she pointed her fork at Eunmi. “So, spill.”

Eunmi let out another groan as she recalled the moment in her head, the embarrassment rushing over her once again. “I… Ugh… I made a complete fool out of myself...”

“Yes, we’ve established that. What happened?”

“Well, I was asked to order some food for Super Junior by their manager as they were reviewing the entries for the invitation event...” Eunmi explained, so far in the story nothing weird had happened. “And when I came back for delivery, their manager slammed the door into me and I almost fell… come to think of it it might have been better if I did fall...”

“Yes, because falling on your butt with take out delivery scattered on the floor would be better than… what, exactly?”  Miya couldn’t quite follow how anything could be worse or more embarrassing than face planting in front of a group of world star idols, much less if food was involved.

“Instead I fell into… him...” She cringed as the moment replayed in her mind. Her skin tingling as she could once again feel his hands on her shoulders, the warmth of his chest supporting her tumble.

“Like… On top of him? Both asses down on the ground? Yours coincidentally but strategically placed on--”

“YAH!” Eunmi interrupted her friend loudly, which caused some of the other guests to stare their way, the redhead quickly sinking back into her seat. No, if the scenario her friend was implying had really happened she would have never been able to show her face anywhere ever again. She’d probably get fired, too. “Nothing like that, aish… I just… He caught me in my fall and then I just… zoned out.”

“Zoned out like zombie zoned out? Drool dripping down your chin zoned out?”

“Can you take this seriously, please?” Eunmi huffed, glaring at her friend across the table.

“Sorry, but you’re so vague… If you don’t fill in the blanks then I’m forced to let my imagination do so and well… The results may differ from reality.”

Finally, Miya shot up in her seat as Eunmi proceeded to punish her comment with a firm kick against the shin. With a pout curling her bottom lip, she rubbed the spot that got hit before reaching out for more food to ease the pain.

“It wasn’t even me bumping into him that was so embarrassing… It was…” She bit her lower lip as she thought back again. The way his eyes felt like they were staring straight into her soul, taking away all confidence and making her heart stop beating for the slightest of seconds. It was something she had never experienced before. A feeling she couldn’t quite place, like she wasn’t herself. “Aish… He must have thought I was such a nuisance to say the least… And how could I possibly have thought for even a second that he was complimenting me?! AISHHH!” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration as she started scolding herself for losing her composure.

“Please, like you’re the first person to get weak in the knees before him? He’s an idol, he’s used to it.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “By the way, who is this he we’re speaking of here?”

“Yeah, but I work for the company. I’m the most reliable source they have, I can’t just get all uncomfortable just because some random guy stared at me...” She huffed, quickly downing her shot of soju as she needed something bitter to punish herself and get her mind out of the cloud of embarrassment and self-cringing she was in. “Lee Donghae is the he we are speaking of.”

“Oh! The fishboy!”

“He’s not a fish.”

“Isn’t that his nickname, though?” Miya frowned as she tried to recall what her friend had once rambled about. She wasn’t a big Super Junior fan herself, or at least not as big as Chanhee for example. She appreciated their musicality and found their appearances on stage or television rather amusing but she couldn’t exactly be placed in the ELF fandom just yet.

“I suppose...” Eunmi shrugged, a lot less interested in his nickname as she was in pouring herself another shot.

“And he complimented you?”

“Nah, he complimented the pizza and chicken...” Eunmi pursed her lips as she remembered how awkward she felt when he pointed that out himself. Of course he was talking about the food.

Miya stared at her friend before bursting out in laughter, so much so that she had to hold onto the table as to not fall off her chair. “Oh man!” She breathed in between laughter. “You got… food-zoned!”

“Yah! I did not get food-zoned!” she pouted as her friend kept laughing. “There is no such thing!”

“If there wasn’t then you guys just invented it!” She continued her laughing fit as Eunmi poured down her shot in frustration, a constant pout on her face. “What if he went back to his members and talked about you?” She wiped away the tears that rolled down her cheek from laughing as she leaned in, lowering her voice so slightly to resemble a man. “Ay, I just bumped into the weirdest chick ever. She stared at me all googly eyes and thought I complimented her on smelling nice when really… I was falling in love with chicken! How weird!” Another round of laughter rolled down her throat as leaned back, clutching her stomach as it was starting to hurt.

“Aishhh...” Eunmi felt even more miserable now that she mentioned it, sinking even lower in her seat If she were lucky, he had forgotten all about what happened or the way she looked at him back there. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

After finishing their food and the bottles of soju they ordered, the two friends parted ways.

Miya couldn’t help but stumble her way over to the nearest convenient store, drinking soju always made her hungry even if she drank it with a meal and she was in dire need of some delicious instant ramen. It also didn’t help that it was one of the few things she was still able to afford, being the poor college student that she was.

She had her hoodie pulled over her head to shield her from the cold, waddling slightly as the alcohol managed to throw her balance off just a tad. She wasn’t drunk, tipsy at best but the ability of walking in a straight line had long since disappeared.

Humming softly and with exaggerated steps, she turned the corner to enter the convenient store and found herself slamming into something, or rather someone. Her head collided with something hard, immediately snapping her out of her thoughts as she stumbled back and promptly landed on her butt, accompanied by the sound of cans dropping onto the cold hard floor.

“Aishh...” She muttered with her eyes pinched close as she tried to ignore the ringing in her ears after headbutting whatever it was she hit, rubbing the spot roughly as if to wipe the pain away. “Stupid lamp post”

“Yah, who are you calling a lamp post?!”

The rough voice hissing at her surprised her, as she finally opened her eyes. Her gaze was on the ground first, noticing the cans of beer, packed ramen and cat food scattered around on the floor as she then began to note the shadow cast down on the floor beside it. Following the shadow lead to a pair of black sneakers belonging to a black haired, averagely built young man. He wasn’t too big nor too small, he didn’t seem to be extremely muscular but he wasn’t scrawny either. His face was partially covered by his black mask but his dark glare shot daggers straight through her heart.

“Ah… I’m… Sorry...” She mumbled as she got up from the floor, collecting some of his groceries that had falling because of their collision.  

“Sorry?” He muttered back, his voice muffled behind his mask. “Aish… What is your head made off? Wood?” Rubbing his own head painfully, she could hear him groan ever so slightly.

“Yah... ” She began as she held out the groceries to him. “Your head is pretty hard too, I thought I bumped into a lamp post...”

“Do I look like a lamp post to you?” He hissed as he grabbed the groceries out of her hands in a hasty manner. He glared at her again before checking if everything he bought was still in order. “Watch where you’re going next time! Or don’t go on a stroll when you’re drunk!”

“Drunk? I’m not drunk! I am perfectly sober!” She protested, at first she felt sorry for bumping into him as she knew she was walking a bit too fast and reckless for it to feel like a simple nudge, but the way he was scolding her didn’t suit her at all. “You’re to blame too! Who walks out of a store without looking?!”

“Please, I could smell the soju from a mile away!” He replied with a soft scoff accompanying his words as Miya sneakily tried to smell her own breath to see if he was right. “Me? Who enters a store without politely waiting for all other people to exit?!”

“Aish!” She clicked her tongue as she averted her gaze, trying her best not to stomp his foot out of frustration. Typical guy behavior, always blaming it on someone else. “I hope my head left a bump!”

“This punk!” He growled. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Yeah,” She replied with full confidence. “A reckless brat, that’s who! Calling me drunk when you’re the one carrying beer! Aish!”

“At least I am old enough to drink!” He growled back. “You’re lucky I was in a good mood before this...” He seemed to be threatening her, the attitude with which he spoke didn’t help his case either.

Miya wanted to respond when another voice from across the street caught their attention.

“Hyung! Hurry! It’s cold!” Both pair of eyes gazed over to the person waving on the other side, he looked a tad smaller than the man she bumped into, the light too dim for her to get a good look at his face but his tone of voice sounded a lot friendlier than the stranger she was arguing with.

“You got lucky...punk!” He growled as he passed her, not helping himself as he nudged his shoulder against hers as he did.

Miya glared after him. “Yeah? Well…. L-lamp post!” She called after him, not being able to come up with a better insult at the moment. She hissed to herself as she turned around and stomped into the convenience store. “Aishh...”

“You look angry, Heechul hyung...” Donghae stared at the older male’s face as he casually draped his arm over his shoulders. “What happened? Did that girl reject you?”

“Please!” Heechul immediately bit back, still feeling irritated by his unfortunate encounter. “I wouldn’t give a person like her the time of day!”

“That bad, huh?” The younger male couldn’t help but chuckle as he lowered his arm, nudging him in the side. “Why did you give you that adorable nickname then? Lamp post hyung?”

“Aish, this punk… Are you asking to be punched?” He stopped, turning to glare at the younger male who couldn’t stop grinning as he dared to tease the almighty Heechul. Donghae was probably one of the only people who could nag and annoy him and get away with it, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t retaliate with some sort of  threat.

“You wouldn’t,” Donghae grinned proudly as he continued walking. “Lamp post hyung loves me too much!”

“Yah! Lee Donghae-yah!”

[straywstay]

District 9 | 01

Summary: This was a warzone. Survival outside of the districts were practically impossible without the proper technology. After losing your first team, you gave up hope that you’d ever survive after bombs started going off in your district, but here you are in District 9. All hope was lost, all hope had been lost, at least until you met him.

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 6,711

A/N: Hi! This is my first every stray kids blog and fic so I hope you guys enjoy and are patient wit the story, I am honestly very excited about this new step I’m taking, so I hope you all enjoy and don’t forget to comment, like, ask,or even message me. I’d love to hear everyone’s feedback. (this will be a chaptered fic)

After spending hours in a pitch black room, a light shines bright in your eyes, you didn’t need to adjust, nobody at these places did that because they weren’t trained to squirm at every minor inconvenience.

“Who are you?” the voice calls out, not too deep, but definitely male.

“I am who.” You stare straight into the bulb, inviting you to come closer and get a feel or the smooth roundness of it.

You hear the sound of lead to paper, the tiny ticks when the pencil writes a new word, hitting the paper onto the wooden clipboard, “Good, then we can proceed.” the lights turn on, “Do you know why you’re here?”

You look up into the eyes of the man, fitted in a tailored suit, “Yes sir. People like me are here to become your weapons.”

He chuckles lowly, “Good that we have that settled. Lucky for you, my top tier soldiers got to your in time… practically a breath or two from death they said.” He starts pacing, “If you ever happen to survive the training, be sure to find Jackson and thank him for the mask. One of my best soldiers had to hold his breath while piggybacking you until they got safely inside the vehicle 10 minutes away just so you wouldn’t die, and that would be Jackson.”

You almost hesitate to ask, but if there’s one thing you learned, it’s to never hesitate, “i-is everyone gone?” you pull up your arms to rub at your face, only to realize that they’ve been strapped to the seat, “My frien-... my teammates, are they all dead?”

He claps his hands like what you asked was the funniest thing in the world, “Teammates? EVERYONE is dead in District 10.” he looks back at you, “Well except you.”

He walks towards the door, “I know who you are, 7008. Y/N Y/L/N, which is why I expect that and more from you when you become part of my team.” slowly, he opens it, a group of men marching in, all of them holding you down while the man in the suit injects something into your neck, “Your 24 hours in solitary confinement begins, now.”

You’ve read the history books. There was a time before any of this, there was a time when children were raised by their parents and not to be some military experiment for the government. They’d go to school and make friends, not train in combat. They’d go outside to play with the neighborhood kids instead of doing missions for their district government. This all started when a strange incurable disease started making its way around the world, at first everyone was optimistic that it could be fixed, until one night passed and half of the population died, oxygen from the outside was automatically the first to be sealed away, and synthetic oxygen was used as substitution which explains the need to use a new state of the art face masks when dealing with missions outside of the districts, those were war zones. The only things in the war zones aside from active duty soldiers weren’t exactly human. They looked human, but their eyes were red, they mumbled in incomplete grunts, almost zombie like, except they didn’t eat humans. But their bites did spread the infection they were called Goners, because that was what they were... they were goners in the outside.

Districts started popping up after oxygen was sealed off and the first sight of a goner was found inside its walls. Governments started hiding rations to save for their people, weapons were hoarded, and it was decided that walls were to be built to separate the districts even though they were all miles apart.

When half the population was wiped out, a lot of that population were adults. Little kids had no problem inhaling that contaminated air. At least until they reached 7 years old. When puberty rolled around, it was already a tradition to bring your kids into these government militarized facilities so they could serve their districts. Most parents decided to bring their children here at the tender age of 13. You’ve been at District 10’s facility since your hair was still in pigtails, age 8. These facilities provided everything you needed, beds, rooms, food, training, medicine, even healthcare, you name it. But since there were a lot of soldiers, there was still the issue of equal portions for all. In payment for everyone’s services, their families who had abandoned them would get food and a small allowance that they would get from that kid’s bank account. The higher the kid’s rank as he trained, the higher the allowance, and the better the food. Except for kids like you who had lost their parents. Your allowance was put in a bank, your food rations arrived at your room on top of the regular food rations from meal time. Without parents to receive your payment for service, it was given to you, but before that explosion in District 10, they definitely gobbled everything your service paid for, without even a cent left for you to spend, and that’s saying something. Especially since your allowance was something you definitely didn’t earn from baby missions and cleaning the toilets.

You were in District 9. That much of a fact is true based from the IX pin on that man’s tie from earlier. District 9 is the richest aside from District 1, all due to that fact that Park Jinyoung was the inventor of synthetic oxygen. You were also sure that the man from earlier was Park Jinyoung, and he was the one calling the shots around here.

“Rise and shine, 7008! Solitary confinement ends in this moment, and training begins when you step out this door.” The loud metallic knocking from the door finally wakes you up, the woman who was talking comes in, lab coat over her clothes, she was probably the doctor. She grabs a strange looking gun, shoving it against your neck and releasing the trigger, and it feels like a vein is pulled straight from your neck, “Gotta collect this chip to record your 24 hours. Just remember that you will feel weaker than normal in the next 24 hours due to this.” she gives you a wink and stops right in front of the still opened door, “You can call me Sunmi, and you’d better get some tissue on that.”

The moment you enter the gymnasium, all you smell is sweat, but you guess it was comforting in a way, to smell and see something you were so familiar with. Scattered in the gym are what looks to be wrestling rings without the actual ropes with one third of the room for female on female combat, male on male combat, and the remaining ⅓ for mixed combat. You look around, finding a girl by the racks wrapping her hands and you walk on over, she stares at you picking out a wrap.

She snatches the one you were reaches for, “Need some help?” you gape at her. Most people don’t help newbies, especially ones they have never seen around, “Gotta help each other out, you know?” she passes you a quick grin.

You hold you hand out, “Y/N. 7008.”

She gladly takes it, “Suzy, 9320” she looks at the open ring on the female side, “If we spar, could you take it easy on me? I’m more a lover than a fighter.” she laughs.

You give her a small smile, “You had no intention of beating anyone here. You were content with doing easy jobs. You position and standing in District 10 made sure that you didn’t work as hard as you did then. You gesture your hand towards the ring as if to tell her that she should lead, and she does. The moment you stand on that ring and the bell dings, an arm pulls you right out.

“Sorry newbie, but you’re sparring with me today.” you stare at the hand clutched around your bicep, and the  up at the face of the man that hand belonged to. He pulls you along, almost dragging you through the gym, dramatically that everyone notices, ⅔ of the gym was full, ⅓ was deserted. This was that ⅓, “I won’t be pulling my punches, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t make me look like a jerk and not pull any punches either.” he laughs obnoxiously.

You are stood directly in front of him, “I-I can’t do this. I can’t even beat other girls.

He tsks his tongue, “Nice try, Y/N. But I know who you are, I’ve seen your files, I know about the things you’ve done.” your face pales with that thought, “And I know for a fact that districts, especially this one don’t collect other soldiers from a destroyed district from the goodness of their hearts. I’ve shot soldiers more alive than you were in the remains of a district in the head than you can imagine.”

The bell dings, and he’s lunging for you, punching you in the throat, his rings scratching your throat significantly, before kicking you in the torso making you spit blood, “Come on! Fight back!” He grabs you in a headlock, “I’m Jackson. My team found you in the rubble at District 10.”

He tightens his grip and you remember was Park Jinyoung said, “Th-thank y-you for that… oxygen...mask.” you barely manage to speak out. You look around the ring, quite a lot of people have managed to gather around the mat, in fact, even the ones fighting minutes ago were gathered around.

He laughs again, “Yeah, yeah. Enough chit chat more fighting.” he pauses for a moment, still you were in a tight headlock, “You know, I saw some of your old team in that rubble. Could have saved them, but the bossman said no. If I knew you were going to be a punching bag here, I would’ve saved at least one of them instead.” he chuckles darkly, and in that moment, it was like something in you snapped.

You muster up the energy in your knees, kicking them up straight into Jackson’s gut, kneeing him on and on until he lets go of you and then you maneuver your body so that he’s standing behind you, his arm placed over your shoulder. He’s about to reach over to choke you, but you’re faster. You grab his arm and kick behind you to lift him in the air and flip him over your shoulder. He gets up slowly, not too phased by the flip, so once he stands upright, you deliver a roundhouse kick to the side of his face as hard as you can, making him fall on the mat. He turns his head towards you and mouths something that makes you lose reason, “Goodbye Hanbin.” That’s when everything goes red, you march over to him, while he was being checked for any serious injuries, an obvious timeout, but you push aside the medic and position yourself above him, your knees on the sides of his torso and then you punch him over and over, until the red goes away, you don’t know what you were feeling on your face whether it was sweat sweat or tears but you didn’t care, and by that time, his nose is a bloody mess and his teeth look stained red. His eyes are shut, probably losing consciousness a few seconds ago based from his labored breathing, but he still manages to give you a weak smile, “I’ll be...sure to...tell JYP that…” He winces, trying to sit up, “you’re just what…he’s looking for...in Project SKZ.” he gives you a thumbs up before collapsing back on the mat.

You look around, still positioned above Jackson. Everyone was looking at you like some killer, except for a group of boys near the front of the spectators. They looked interested, but not scared… probably just a bunch of guys who wanted the lastest news on the girl who beat Jackson up. Slowly, you drop your hands that were still held up in fists as you get up, and run straight back to your room.

You pace back and forth. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How were you going to get more accustomed here if you showed everyone that you were like that? You groan, falling back on your bed. You shouldn’t have wavered, you shouldn’t have let him get to you. Your old team wouldn’t have given in… but then again, your old team was dead.

A few small knocks come from your door, you stare at it for a while, but nobody ever opens it, so you get up and open it yourself only to find a small first aid kid at your feet. You raise an eyebrow at it, was this for you? You look straight down the hall, nobody. You turn your head to the left when you hear a small cough from behind the large potted plant.

“I know that I don’t have to force you to show yourself.” you go back inside your room, “Come in.”

You sit on your bed, feet on the ground, back hunched forward, left arm on your left knee all while never turning your eyes away from the door. Within seconds a boy scurries in, first aid kit clutched tightly against his chest. He stands directly in front of you, and that gives you a chance at a good look at him. He had dark brown hair, falling over his eyebrows, his eyes were large and catlike.

“Sit.” you gesture towards the soft couch to the side of your room, “Why are you here?”

He walks toward the couch and sits, “I-I saw you earlier-” his voice cracks before he clears his throat, “And I noticed your neck looked bad. I-I just wanted to help you out a b-bit.”

You stare at the kit in his hands, and then back at his face as he smiles at you awkwardly. He had braces. You get up, slowly limping towards him as you felt a pain in your ribs that you completely had been trying to forget about since you and Jackson finished sparring.

When you sit down, he’s quick to apply a disinfectant to your neck, all around. He sneaks glances up at you every now and then, and even when he’s wrapping an inch-wide bandage around your neck, his fingers are feather light.

“What’s your name?” you remain staring at the wall, “I’m Y/N.”

The smile he’d been fighting off on his face suddenly blooms, making him look younger, “J-Jeongin! But my team usually calls me I.N.” he ties the bandage behind your neck, and he stares at your hand, placed tightly over your ribcage.

He bites his lip, unsure of whether he should ask you to cooperate, or to let it be, but you already notice the worried look he has in his eyes, so you sigh, and take off your tank top. Leaving you in your sports bra. His face reddens, as he desperately concentrates on your already bruising rib cage.

“I’m here from District 10.”

He stops suddenly, looking up at you, “I know.” he speaks softly, “My whole team knows. They’re quite excited to meet you.”

“Why-why are you here?” you clear your throat, “I mean, why are you even helping me?”

He blinks at you, confused that you'd even ask that, “Well just to be clear, I was already planning on helping you, but Hyunjin-hyung still thinks that the only reason I’m doing this is because he told me to.” he grins, blessing you with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, “And besides, you’re family now.”

You look away, face reddening, “How old are you? You don’t look like you belong here.” you mumble.

He ties the bandages around your ribs cleanly, “I’m already 18, but I’ve been here since I was 13.” He starts putting his medical supplies away, “Your rib is broken, and the skin there is heavily wounded, but it should be fine in a few weeks. Til then, I advise you to wear short shirts because it can be a pain to deal with when you wear normal shirts, “I’d like to tell you to keep away from training, but that isn’t exactly a choice we’re allowed to make here.”

He gets up, turning to you, “We should get going. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Confused, you stand up and flounder the dresser next to your door for something to wear. You pull the black crop top over your head just in time to see when Jeongin has already turned the corner. You’re practically chasing him through the halls, until you bother reach a door labeled, ‘JYP’.

You follow Jeongin entering the room, and upon entering, he goes into the next room and leaves you with Park Jinyoung, who’s already sitting on a chair in front of a large meeting table, “Ah, 7008. Glad you’re here. We requested your presence so that you could meet your new team.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “W-wait. Woah, new team? I’m sorry, but I didn’t sign up for a new team.” you take a seat in front of him, “In fact, I’d be happy just serving the medical clinic here.”

He scoffs at the comment, “You wanna be part of the medical team here?” He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “Look kid, you put one of my best guys in the clinic. From my point of view, you put more people in hospitals than help them out of them.”

He pulls out the chair next to him, grabbing 9 thick folders, “Those are yours. You’ll need to study them, for the time-”

You push back the folders on the table, “Woah, okay, I never agreed to this.”

He brings his index finger under his chin and his thumb on his jawline, “Can’t forget Little Hanbyul’s nearing commencement ceremony.”

You freeze at the thought, slowly inching your arms towards the stack of files on the desk, “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

He sighs and shrugs, “Well, I do. I have to, I keep tabs on all of my dream recruits, Kang Daniel from District 1, BTS from District 7, Doyoung and Taeyong from District 12.” He brings his fingers together in front of his face, “Obviously, there’s not too many, but you still became part of that. We saved you… the least you could do is be thankful and repay us with your service.”

You bow your head in defeat. You had no choice. You had to do this, for Hanbin, for his little sister. One thing about being recruited here is that it’s optional, but the price to exempt someone’s child was no joke, the only people who could even leisurely afford that resided in District 1.

“Why don’t you meet your team?”

You can’t look at him. So instead, you numbly nod your head, you had no other choice either way.

He knocks twice on the table with about a four second interval between the two knocks and then it is followed by the fast consecutive knocks on the door Jeongin passed through earlier. The door opens and you tear your eyes away from it, not willing to show Park Jinyoung that you were even the slightest bit interested in who he decided would be a fit for you as a team. Park Jinyoung clears his throat, making you look up at the boys standing in a line. You furrowed your eyebrows, you already saw these boys, they were the only ones who didn’t look the least bit worried after you beat Jackson up. The one at the very end to the left step forward, reaching out his hand which you just stare at.

“I’m Bang Chan. I’m the leader.” He was pale just like all of them, his hair was curly and longer than Jeongin’s but not too long and he had a portion braided on the left side, “Basically, you can come to me for anything and everything.”

“He also makes rounds at night. To check your trackers.” Park Jinyoung taps the inside of his wrist for emphasis, to give Chan a job like that meant that Park Jinyoung trusted him to a degree.

Chan pushes a boy forward, lips tightly shut but curved upward along with his eyes, he waves, “Hi, I’m Kim Woojin, I’m pretty good at memorizing and familiarizing myself with locations, so they put me in charge of either being the lookout or being the first one to come in at mission locations to get a feel for the terrain. Of course I can’t give it all to talent or skill, I still read about our mission assignments beforehand so I have an idea.” you only nod slightly in his direction, “Feel free to drop by before missions if you wanna review the mission and its details.”

The next guy to step up looks pretty lax, but he still maintained a glare in your direction. With his hands in his pockets, he starts, shoulders slouching, “Seo Changbin.” and the  he retreats back to his place.

Chan clears his throat, “Sorry about him, Y/N. He’s still a work in progress when it comes to new recruits.” he rubs the back of his neck, “He’s pretty much in charge of the missions we’re assigned to at night, stealth missions, that kind of thing.”

You open your mouth to say something, but you decide against it when you see Chan look at you confused. You shouldn’t expect these people to do those kinds of missions. Only monsters did those missions, like you.

The next one to step forward is confident, like he knows what he’s doing, but he won’t tell you either way, because he didn’t find the need to, “My name’s Lee Minho, some of these guys call me Lee Know. I’m in charge of weapons in our group.”

“That’s why some of us call him Lee Know, because of a mission we went on that had extended a full day after an open fire started in the outskirts of district 8, we ran out of weapons, but Minho created new guns from the equipment we had. If it hadn’t been for him, we’d have lost that one.” Chan shrugs.

The next one doesn’t even step forward, he bows courteously from his spot, “I’m Kim Seungmin, we’re already a well oiled machine but I’m sure your addition will complete us even more.” he looks up slowly as if he was trying to remember what he had to mention, “Oh! I’m in charge of route and plan memorization  of the group. Basically, I remember everything. If Woojin is in charge of memorizing the location, I’m in charge of getting us there and back.”

The next one has a hand in his pocket, but he’s well mannered enough to bow first, “I’m Lee Felix, I’m in charge of comms. Minho and I sometimes work together when we need to improve the communication accessories we use, especially for upgrades.”

You were already acquainted with the next one, but you didn’t interrupt. He comes marching forward, almost.looking proud at how you two already knew each other, “As you know, I’m Yang Jeongin. I helped you earlier and that’s what I do in the team, I usually help them when they get injured, but the longer I grow here, I hope I get to become like you, or like Hyunjin Hyung.”

A hand is reached out in front of you, you stare at it, before his other hand is grabbing yours and putting it in his still waiting hands for a handshake, “Hey. I’m Han Jisung. I’m who everybody counts on during missions, I’m always making plans with Chan, but I do much rather prefer planning instead of actual physical violence.”

The last one is staring at the floor, practically glaring at it with a hand in his pocket, he takes one look up at you, and bows silently, “I’m Hwang Hyunjin, I guess I’m like you, if you were trained to kill. I’m practically in charge of maintaining everyone in this group as well and especially combat.” he bows again then he begins to retreat but then he stops, “Sorry about what they did to you.” he mentions in a soft voice, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Park Jinyoung or Chan. You see Park Jinyoung’s cheek clench, and Chan throwing Hyunjin a dirty look to get him to stop, and it works.

You push your chair back and you stand up, “Nice to meet you all. I’m Y/N. The only thing you need to know about me is what I did to Jackson earlier.” you force a smile on your face that has Park Jinyoung chuckling to himself, you can feel the tension in the room, and you get why. It’s always unnerving to suddenly have to recruit a new member, so even though they thought they were showing you their enthusiasm over getting a new member, you completely understood where they were coming from, “I uh, I understand that this kind of situation isn’t easy, but I hope you all give me a chance because I’m sure I can prove to you guys that I belong here. I'm excited to begin working with you guys.”

You get in line at the cafeteria, a group of girls already in front of you in line, giggling amongst themselves, themselves, friends. The guard at the front of the line grabs your wrist, scanning the inside of it and 2 tickets are printed from  his handheld scanner. You grab the tickets, staring at the extra one strangely, was this how it would always be? This was your first actual meal since your family died. You head straight for the food line where they easily provide you with two heaping helpings of dinner which you carry in both hands. You try to look around, looking for a place to sit. You see the group of girls in front of you in line, but when they catch your eyes, they instantly glare at you and scoot farther apart so there was no space for you. You’re about to turn your heel and forget dinner all together, when a voice calls out to you.

“Yo!” a hand shoots up in the air, “Y/N! Over here!” if you didn’t see Chan earlier, you definitely saw him now as he stood up and started flailing his arms around in an attempt to get you to see him.

You sigh, looking from your food to their table, where all their eyes were already on you. The decision  was already made anyway. You walk towards their table slowly where you catch Jeongin roughly pushing Hyunjin farther from him to make room for you.

“You can sit right here, Y/N!” Jeongin pats the empty seat in between him and Hyunjin.

You place your tray with two full plates on the table, “This seat taken?” you look towards Hyunjin who keeps his sight straight across at Jisung.

He shrugs, “All yours.”

The table is silent, except for Jeongin who keeps talking to you about some mission awhile back where he got shot in the leg, but pushed through for three days or whatnot, Chan was shooting you looks from the end of the table, smiling and trying to at least create a somewhat welcoming presence, it wasn’t working. Jisung was just shooting looks at you from behind his hair while eating, and you would catch Hyunjin every now and then and meet his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.

Dinner was brutal and it would’ve been a massacre if it weren’t for Jeongin and Chan, but you got through it anyway. You went ahead of everyone after being called to meet with Park Jinyoung for a briefing. After an hour of discussing your still ambiguous place in the team, he dismissed you, but not before having you come by the watch your new team’s practice simulation so you could get a feel of their dynamics.

You hover in front of the door that you already opened ever so slightly, your hand rests on the door knob when you hear their voices in murmurs, and you freeze when you hear you name.

“She doesn’t belong here, Chan.” Woojin.

“Look, I know you guys don’t like how this is panning out, and trust me, I don’t either but-”

“Then can’t you tell that to JYP? He trusts you the most out of all of us. And if he’s going to listen to anyone it’s you.” That was Changbin. He sounded so frustrated.

“I don’t like this either, but maybe we can compromise, we just need to give her a chance.” You were pretty sure that was Hyunjin, “We just don’t know her too well right now.”

“I’m not exactly sure this is something that should have been thrusted to us.” Seungmin chimes in.

“I don’t know.” Minho tsks, “We were perfectly fine well before her. What else are we missing?”

“Oh come on, man. You were assigned with us just a few years ago.” Hyunjin’s voice got louder, “We were all new once!”

“I heard she was one of the best recruits at District 10.” Jisung offers, “My big brother told me that her team’s level was pretty high up there back in 10, and she’s the only one Park Jinyoung wanted from that team.”

“Well she’s in 9 now.” Changbin scoffs, “And besides, how can we even trust her? I heard she was the reason why District 10 even imploded-”

You never noticed how tight your grip on the knob had gotten until you finally find the strength to slam it shut. You feel the hot tears running down your cheeks as you run down the hall, even pushing past Jeongin who had no idea what just happened. Maybe it was for the better. You don’t know how long you were running, but you run until your legs give out from under you on the dirt floor. You feel like you couldn’t breathe, as if the air was being sucked from inside of you as you continued to sob. It could have been easier to ignore that accusation, to let everyone think whatever they wanted, but you couldn’t because it was true.

After what felt like hours of sobbing, and reminiscing on your old team, you make your way back to your room. You walk slow, counting the steps. You were on step 9,730 when you catch a pair of legs right next to your door. Looking up, you find Chan, back up against the wall, dozing off with his arms crossed in  front of his chest and a foot propped up against the wall.

You approach slowly with caution, entering the passcode for you door, “Need something?” you focus on what you were doing, entering the incorrect code over and over again.

He jolts awake, eyes wide and alert, “Y/N! You need to come with me.” he looks serious, not a grin in sight. This was it, they’d tell you that you weren’t going to be accepted in their little group and you’d have to find another way to pay for little Hanbyul’s exemption from service.

You slouch your back, sighing before following him, directly behind his heel as he started walking. You walked in silence, all the way across the premises only to stop right in front of a glass door. He holds the door open for you, only entering after you’ve gone in. You find all the members sitting on the couches, with Jeongin near the end. You noticed his puffy eyes and his red nose and every so often, he’d let out a sniffle or a hiccup, he’d been crying.

So this was it? This was how you’d be let go.

Chan places a hand on  your shoulder, “This is our living quarters.” he pulls you towards the group, “And one of these days soon, it’ll be yours as well.”

You stare at him in shock, then at the other members, Jeongin who had such a serious face was beaming now, “I-I thought you didn’t like m-me?”

“We just don’t know you yet.” Woojin speaks from the far right armchair, “ We like you well enough. We just don’t know you.”

Chan sighs from next to you, “If we’re being honest, then yeah. At first we didn’t like you, and we were talking about you. But when you slammed that door, Hyunjin ran after you, and followed you to the back, in the Garden of Mirrors. Park Jinyoung said that he made that place in hopes that when we go there when we’re lost, or feeling our weakest, then we can find ourselves.” He pulls you to sit next to him on an unoccupied couch, “And when Hyunjin never came back, we looked for him and found him watching you. I guess that’s when we realized that if this has been hardest on anybody, that would be on you.”

Hyunjin who was standing by the wall with his arm crossed suddenly speaks up, “So let us in, Y/N. Tell us who you are.”

You stare back at them, Hyunjin in particular. With a deep breath, you begin.

You were born in District 10. You never got to an age where mom and dad ever had any other name besides mom and dad when they sent you to service. By the age of 9, you were already learning proper gun cleaning techniques. At age 10, you met Jinhwan, he was already 13, but he couldn’t be assigned anywhere because he was categorized as too hostile to be assigned anywhere, but he got along with you just fine. You see him with other kids, he didn’t care if they were afraid of him, he was fine on his own. But you knew better. You’ve walked into practice rooms at 4 in the morning to find him crying in the corner. That’s why when you get your first mission with him, you give him a stuffed elephant you had been trying to give to him since you saw him crying. Maybe it was because he hated his parents and you never spent enough time with them to properly treasure any memories with them, but you and him understood each other. At 12, you met Hanbin, he was 14, but that’s all. You never bothered to ever really get to know Hanbin or train with him which is why you were so surprised when Yang Hyun Suk called you in only to be assigned to your first team. It was Hanbin’s team, one he handpicked himself, Jinhwan wss pickest as well, he picked you after meeting you once. The team consisted of Hanbin, Jinhwan, Bobby, Junhoe, Yunhyeong, Donghyuk, Chanwoo, and you. Hanbin was never the type to make things easier for anyone, even you, even with whatever the two of you had developed, in fact, you can still remember a specific mission when you had been transported back with your team, and you were bleeding out on the floor from a stab wound to your leg and all Hanbin really din was hold your hand on the way back. He never said anything and just told you to pay attention to the mission, but you knew better from the way his hand trembled and his lips quivered if he so much as let out a sound, he wasn’t the type to jeopardize a mission but he also didn’t want to lose you and there’s just something so flattering about that. You start out as a surveillance team, lookout for the teams that actually get to properly do a mission, as time passes, you team moves up the ranks, from surveillance to escort missions to diplomacy to hijacking missions to objectives to assassinations there you and your team last promoted to, special operatives. Your team was your family, the closest thing you could ever consider as such. Especially Hanbin, you and Hanbin had something really special which is probably the only reason you stayed in that team despite the questionable missions they started to give you. Under a especially delicate mission, one assigned only to you and Jinhwan was completed, it took a whole week to get done and when you and Jinhwan were in Yang Hyun Suk’s office to give a detailed report, Jinhwan found files that had turned everything upside down. That night, before you and Jinhwan had the chance to talk about it with your team, bombs started going off. A retaliation from District 7. Before you had any time to react, your team was already clearing the premises down into the bomb shelters. You were in Jinhwan’s room with him while he’s packing when the sky darkens from the window, then in seconds, he’s grabbing you by the arm, running down the hall and then he stops, he’s smiling sadly at you, he kisses you telling you he’s loved you since he first met you and then he’s pushing you to run to Hanbin in the east wing of the facility, because he needed to go back to get something very important, he pats your head telling you he’d find you and your team later so you start running. Minutes later, a bomb implodes in your living quarters, Jinhwan inside. You find Hanbin in the industrialized labs, he doesn’t say a word, just embraces you like it’s the last one, and he gives you one final kiss, asking you to keep Hanbyul safe before he thanks you for caring and loving him the way you did all those years, and that’s when he pushes you into a metallic tube like incubator, saying sorry over and over again and how much he loves you, he reaches for your hand that you had placed against the glass, and then everything explodes. You realized what had happened, when you were with Jinhwan, when he looked out the window, he noticed the bomb ticking down the minutes before it would explode, he began to run with you when he remembered that damned elephant you gave him all those years back, and that’s why he goes back, that’s why he died. Hanbin had been in that lab for the purpose of you finding him, he and Jinhwan were a hundred percent sure that the bomb shelter wouldn’t hold against the onslaught of bombs, so he stands guard of the only place that had cryogenic chambers that could withstand bombs like that. When he starts up the machine, all you can remember is hitting the door so hard just so it would open until the sides of your fists were bleeding and raw, the last thing you saw was his face, one of the only few times Hanbin showed so much love and affection in his eyes and it was all for you, sadness and love as he kept saying sorry over and over again.

You breathe a sigh of relief, mostly everything was out in the open now. That’s all that mattered.

A hand comes out to touch your shoulder, “One day, Park Jinyoung is going to assign you to go back and get whatever you left behind in 10. It wouldn’t be him if he didn’t.” Hyunjin squeezes your shoulder, “But just know that, District 10, 7, 4, 5 or whatever district you have to go to, we’re coming with you.” he drops his hand, sighing before retiring to his room.

Chan smiles drowsily, probably tired from the practice simulation earlier, “You’re one of us now, Y/N.” He stretches before stalking to his room.

One by one, everyone starts to leave. You were about to get up when a dvd is thrown on the coffee table in front of you, “This was the practice simulation earlier.” Jisung scratches the back of his neck, “We aren’t actually allowed to take the recordings but you weren’t around to watch, so I took the liberty of putting it in there along with a few of our individual skill recordings there.”

You silently bow your head in thanks, waiting until he goes back to his room before popping the dvd into the tape player connected to the television.

This was your home now.

[childofthemoon86]

@francisandtheworldweek Day 1: Photographer/Model au

Love is Inspiration, Inspiration is Love

Pairing: (pre)FrUk, implied spamano

Characters: France, Spain, Prussia, England, America, South Italy (mentioned)

Rating: T for language

Word count: 2350

Summary: When Francis loses his love of photography, inspiration comes from an unlikely, and rather drunk, source.

Cross posted on FF.net

Francis sighed as he clicked through the images on his screen. Male models sporting the latest fashion flick past his eyes with barely a moments glance. Snazzy street clothes, expensive suits, swim wear, underwear, each image taken has the perfect theme for the occasion and really, by anyone else’s standards, the pictures are beautiful, breathtaking… perfect.

But when Francis looks at these pictures, he doesn’t see that special spark anymore. He sees hours of rigging just to set up the right lighting for maybe one or two passable photos, and dozens more tossed for not being ‘just right’. He sees fussy hair and makeup designer arguing over the same faces day after day, only to paint the same look on each one. He sees boring models who act more like play-doh than clay. He sees dozens of people acting like cogs in a machine, and the expectation they all have of him, for him to make it all work.

He sees a process, a set up.

He doesn’t see art. He doesn’t see life.

Turning from the screen, Francis pushes himself away from the desk, the wheels of his chair squeaking under him as he rolls back from the force. He leans back, slowly letting his eyes rove around the studio.

Around him the white walls are decorated with some of his best works. Large portraits filled with bright, and back then new, models in some of his more… ostentatious works. As his eyes roll over each, he can’t help but feel a smile pull at his lips. How can he not? Each picture has a story, and every time he looks at them, he feels himself whisked right back to the day he took it.

But then his eyes returned to the black screen at his desk.

He frowns, wondering when did he lose his spark? Just when did he start to hate the very thing that used to give him such joy?

Looking to the side, his eyes land on the small frame nestled on the corner of his desk.

Most people who come to his studio don’t even know he’s the one who took it, mostly because he’s in it, that, and the fact that it’s nothing like the others. It’s a bit blurry and off centre. It also has an odd tilt, and lens flare from the sun blots out the upper right corner with it’s glaring white light, almost blocking out the view of one of the peoples faces.

But despite all these apparent flaws, it’s by far Francis’s most precious picture.

Gently, he lifts it up to examine it closer.

The picture was taken in a park, one not too far from his old studio, and is a simple one of three friends. It was a summers day, the last summers day that the three friends would share for some time, and they wanted to remember it. Francis was only a budding photographer back then, but even so, he knew just how to capture the day.

He had set up a tripod with his new camera all ready to go. The timer was set and he rushed back to the others for the perfect shot.

What he didn’t count on was a ball bouncing down the hill he set the camera on, or Gilbert’s decision to be ‘helpful’ and kick it out of frame back the way it came. The ball veered to the right and struck the tripod, causing the camera to tumble. The timer ticked down and the shutter went off before the camera hit the ground, capturing the sight of Gilbert cheering to his right, Antonio laughing at the accident to his left, and Francis in the middle, dashing forward in the vain hopes of catching the camera.

It’s an image full of life, and the very picture that set Francis fully on the path to becoming the photographer he is today.

Before he can set the picture down again, the door flies open and the sound of manic laughter soon reaches Francis’s ears.

“Hey Franny! What you still doing sitting there?” Gilbert calls, grinning like a mad man as he steps in.

Francis looks up in confusion for a moment, before he spies Antonio through the doorway.

“Merde! Is it that late already?” He curses, looking at his watch.

“Yup!” Gil beams, “So get your butt out of that chair and let’s go drinking!”

“Ah,” Francis shakes his head sadly, “Sorry, but I still haven’t finished here, and the deadline is tonight.”

Before he can apologise further, Toni waves away his worries, “We thought you might say that, so I had a word with Lovi, and we both agreed to give you an extension, so no worries!”

Francis chuckles, shaking his head at the pair.

Of course, he should have expected as much. Not many people are as lucky to work for their best friend.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Ja, now let’s go hit the bars!”

X

Francis knows he should be trying to enjoy himself, but he can’t stop feeling bogged down with this new inexplicable loathing for his work, and he hates that he hates it.

“Aww cheer up Fran,” Toni chirps, waving the bar tender over to order him another drink.

“Ja,” Gil nods, trying to act sagely as he clumsily claps the blond on the back, “It’s not like you to be this down. It’s weirding me out.”

“If you need a change of pace, Gil could always model some stuff again.”

“Damn right I could! You know I make anything look hot.”

“No,” Fran sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Thanks, but I don’t think even Gil’s eccentricities can get me out of this slump.”

Toni hums in thought, though how clear such thoughts are is questionable at this point, “Maybe you just need something new, like last year with the spring wardrobe change? Though I don’t think I could take another of Lovi’s tantrums…”

“Just get a new model.” Gil slurs slightly, taking another swig of his beer before continuing, “I mean, no dummkopf pretty boy will be as good as me, but can’t hurt to try right?”

“Gil has a point,” Antonio nods, sipping at his own drink, “that’s what you used to do at the old studio, right?”

Francis shook his head, frowning at his drink, “No, I mean yes, but, it’d be impossible. Even if I could find someone to model, there’s no way I could reshoot all of Lovino’s line by next week. I’d have to work 24/7 solid to get it done, and you know how fickle the makeup department is. It’s impossible. I’ll just have to… make… do?”

Francis trails off, his attention drifting to the other end of the bar where an argument seems to be getting out of hand.

He can just about see a head of scruffy blond hair slumped across the bar, and another taller blond trying, and failing, to pull the slumped man up.

“FUCKING PISS OFF!” An accented voice heavily slurs as the smaller man tries to push the other away.

“Dude, Artie, come on. It’s time to go.” The tall one sounds frustrated, but is doing well to stay calm.

“A said Fuck OFF, am still drinkin’ h’re!”

“No your not,” the bar tender cuts in, frowning disapprovingly at the drunk man, “I cut you off half an hour ago. Now will you please leave before I call the police.”

“Whoa, no need for the cops dude, I can handle him.” The tall blond grins nervously, before switching to a more direct approach.

Francis, and by now most of the bar, watch as the young man stuffs his hands under the drunks armpits, forcefully lifting him up off the bar and pulling back to remove him from the stool. It goes well for about five seconds, before the drunk man seems to realise what’s happening and tries to pull away. The ensuing scuffle sends them down the bar, and, by a bout of bad luck, the drunk man tumbles free of his helper/captor to land in Francis’s lap.

Bloodshot green eyes look up at him in dazed confusion for a second, before rolling over to vomit down Francis’s trousers.

Francis is fairly certain it’s the booze talking, but as he watched this man puke, he saw a glow, and just like that, to the sound of retching and the disgusting warmth running down his legs, he’d found his new inspiration.

“Oh shit! Dude I am so sorry!” The young man cried as he pulled the sick man to his feet.

Downing the last of his drink, Francis stood, beaming as he helped to steady the drunk and proclaimed, “Your hired!”

X

At exactly 11am the next morning, Francis eagerly paced the studio, making last minute adjustments to the lighting, before nearly jumping in glee at the sound of the door buzzing.

Hurrying over to the intercom, he excitedly asked, “Hello?”

His excitement however, was met with a far more cautious and nervous voice, “Yes, Hello? My name is Arthur, I, Uh, believe you made a job offer last night? The card said to come here so…” the voice trails off, but Francis is far to excited to pick up on it’s unease.

“Oui! Oui, come on up!” He calls, happily buzzing the man in.

It only takes a few minutes for a knock to come at his door, and Fran near pulls it off it’s hinges in his rush to open it. But any words he had prepared leave him in a rush of air as he lays eyes on the man before him.

The sloppy drunk in a ratty old band tee, jeans, and heavy jacket that was hanging off of him last night has been completely replaced. Instead what stands before him is a neat, casual suit wearing man, who stands straight and clean shaven. Though the hair remains the same, and what was confused green eyes, now stare back at him with weariness behind dark sunglasses that some how go with the suit.

So this is Arthur Kirkland when not drunk out of his mind, Fran thinks.

It’s only when Arthur coughs does Francis notice he’s been ogling him for far too long and is now making things uncomfortable.

He quickly smiles to recover, stepping back and waving a hand to welcome him in.

“Please, come in, Mr. Kirkland.”

There’s a moment of uncertainty before he does, and Fran sighs in relief.

“Um, so what is it exactly you wanted to hire me for?”

Now Francis realises why Arthur sounds so unsure, and he chuckles at his own blindness.

“Ah, I suppose you were rather, incapacitated last night, though I thought your friend, Mr. Jones? would have explained everything to you?”

Arthur seems to frown at the mention of his friend as he looks around the studio, “Alfred left early for work, all he left me was a note and your card. Not exactly much to go on.”

“Ah well, in that case, allow me to explain. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, I am a photographer for the fashion magazine Project Tomato. And what I want you to do, Mr. Kirkland, is model for me.”

“Model?”

Oh, Francis doesn’t like the way he said that, as if the very notion was ridiculous. He has to save this, and fast. Time to pour on the charm.

“Why of course! You see, back before I started working for PT, I was an independent photographer, and part of my work was finding fresh new faces to be models, so I know when I see potential.” He grinned, pausing to try to gauge Arthur’s reaction before continuing, “Don’t worry, we won’t do anything too taxing on your first day. We’ll start of easy with a simple white drop background and something light and easy to wear, maybe a few costume changes later on, but nothing big.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur blinked, shaking his head like he’s trying to understand what’s going on, “but you want me to model?”

Trying not to show his worry that he might lose his one shot at new inspiration, Fran smiles warmly, “Yes, that is what I said.”

“Me? Model?”

Fran sighs, now getting frustrated with this circling.

“Yes. You. What about that is so hard to understand?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, but he really needs Arthur to agree.

Arthur looks around at the studio again, this time clearly taking in all the pictures, and if Francis didn’t know any better, he’d say Arthur almost looks scared.

“But aren’t models supposed to be…” he trails off.

“Supposed to be what?”

“Never mind. You said the pay would be good? Or Al’s note said that…”

Finally getting somewhere, Fran beams, “Yes, very.”

“Alright then.” Arthur sighs, before directing his full attention to Francis, “What do I have to do?”

X

Francis can easily say that Arthur is by far the most difficult model he’s ever had to work with, and for some unknown reason, that delights him. He hates the makeup and hair designers, he refuses to wear any shorts, or sleeveless shirts without a jacket to cover his arms, and he absolutely won’t let anyone near him when he changes. He’s grumpy, demanding and unreasonable. He’s an unpleasant spanner in the once smooth running machine of Francis’s studio.

And that makes him perfect.

He’s not play-doh, or clay, he’s a rock. No, a gemstone, a diamond in the rough. It’ll be tough, but with time, Francis is certain he can polish him to shine greater than any model before him.

But more than that, Francis finds himself drawn to him. He doesn’t remember the last time his camera was so draw to something, when one, twenty, forty photos was never enough.

And when the day’s shoot is over, never has he been more afraid of a model deciding this wasn’t for them, or chased after someone to beg to know that they’ll come back the next day.

And never has he been so happy when they said yes.

[zimmerdouche]

The Logistics of Fae, or: How to Finally Get Your Fucking Sink Fixed

Read it on AO3!

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, Nursey was drunk. And maybe, just maybe, the guy seemed a little odd. But hey, everyone glows when you’re wasted, right?

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” He slides onto the stool next to the man at the end of the bar. “Because you must be an angel.”

Read it on AO3!

“Fae, actually.” The man takes a sip of the bright yellow cocktail in front of him. It sparkles, lit up by a faint gold aura.

“Guess I can’t give you my name then, huh?” He knew about the fae – his cousin married a changeling a few years back – but it had been a while since he met one in person.

“Like I’d give you mine, either.” His eyes are the same color as his aura, a smooth gold that reminds Nursey of the honey in his cupboard at home. They match the twinkle of the cocktail on the bar and he wonders if the fae ordered that drink on purpose.

“Call me Nursey.”

“Dex.”

“Now, I know if you like the fae, you give them an offering – can I buy you a drink?” Nursey leans forward. “Or you could at least tell me what you’re drinking now. It’s sparkly as hell and I want one.”

“This drink would kill a human,” Dex says bluntly. “And I made an agreement with the bouncer that I wouldn’t harm any humans tonight, so I won’t contribute to your downfall.”

“Do you regularly harm humans?”

“Not regularly.” Nursey sees his eyes flash. “But it’s a requirement for fae to enter the bar.”

“Well, that’s good. Dying wasn’t in my plans tonight.”

“Interesting that you chose to come to a faerie bar, then,” Dex says with a grin. He turns to face the sea of tables filling the open space of the bar. For a split-second, Nursey swears he sees his teeth sparkle.

“If I can’t share your cocktail, should I order you another one?”

Dex downs the remaining liquid in his glass. “I’m good. Not really in the mood to part with any more favors, and the money equivalent of faerie favors, is, well…” He grits his teeth.

Nursey’s look of confusion must prompt him to explain. “The faerie cocktails can only be paid for using favors. The rest of my weekend is booked with home and mechanical repairs. People will give a lot for a faerie to paint their nursery.”

“However,” he continues. “I’ve got some homemade honey mead at my apartment that my neighbor gave me for changing his oil, if you’d like to split it. Human friendly.” His smile returns, easier this time, and his glow subtly strengthens.

Nursey returns the smile. “I’d love to. You live close by?”

“Walking distance. Don’t even need to bust out my wings.”

“Good. I’m too drunk for heights.”

Dex laughs at that, throwing his head back and sounding oddly like church bells. “Well, let’s go then.”

“Lead the way,” Nursey says, enraptured.

Dex lives just down the street, in an apartment building that pricks him with the feeling of home as soon as he walks into the lobby. When he steps foot into Dex’s apartment, it turns into a flood.

“Enchantment,” he explains. “Who I let in here will never feel uncomfortable.”

“Smart,” Nursey replies, settling himself onto the couch as Dex pulls two wine glasses from his cupboard. “What do you do?”

“Computer engineering. You?” He sits next to his guest on the couch and hands him a glass filled with a golden liquid, and yeah, it matches Dex’s eyes.

“I’m a copy editor for a literary magazine.” He sips the mead and feels it warm his chest and stomach. “I wouldn’t expect a faerie to work with computers.”

“There’s magic in everything, including computers.” Dex tastes his mead and rests his hand on Nursey’s shoulder. His glow is bright. He twists his face in thought. “Including you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have faerie blood. Did-” He notices Nursey’s shocked expression. “Did you not know?”

“Uh, no. I mean, leaves follow me around sometimes, but I figured-”

“I mean, it’s a tiny amount. Barely noticeable, but definitely there.”

Nursey leans into his touch. “Does this mean I could’ve tasted your drink?”

Dex extends his arm so that Nursey is nestled into the crook of his shoulder. “No, still would’ve killed you. It’s barely noticeable. If the leaves follow you around, there’s likely a dryad way back in your family tree.” He pauses. “Pun not intended.”

A snort. “Yeah, okay.”

They’re silent after that, sipping on the honey mead until the bottle is empty and Dex has taken to burying his face into the top of Nursey’s head. He inhales deeply. “God, you smell like a dryad.”

“You smell like mmph-” Dex cuts him off with a firm kiss to the lips and they both melt into it, like honey melting into tea, like butterscotch melting on his tongue.

They continue melting into each other as Dex tries to stand and Nursey pushes him back into the couch, planting kisses on his neck and his forehead; a kiss for every golden freckle on his cheeks.

“Anything I should know about faerie sex before I take your clothes off?”

Dex laughs breathlessly and pulls off his t-shirt. “Nothing that’ll fuck you in the bad way.” His eyes flicker with mischief, reminding Nursey of the magic flooding their systems.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” he murmurs. He discovers more and more golden freckles on the faerie’s torso as he kisses his way down, and when he finally gets his mouth on him, Dex’s gasp sounds like the wind whipping its way through a wheat field.

He whispers expletives in a language that gives Nursey goosebumps, even though he doesn’t understand the words. “Agh, faeguh meurin- Faeguh.”

“Fuck.” He’s overwhelmed by the magic, the mead, the inhuman scent of his partner – it’s not long before they’re both over the edge, and he collapses forward into Dex’s lap.

He buries his fingers in Nursey’s hair and scratches lightly at his scalp. “Holy shit.”

He can’t help but chuckle at Dex’s astonishment. “If it was that good, you owe me food.”

A sweet smile. “It’s the best head I’ve had, well, ever. I owe you more than that.”

Nursey returns the smile. “I’ll settle for a kebab. For now.”

“Deal. For now.”

***

This fucking sink.

Nursey curses as the kitchen faucet spews freezing water all over his hands and t-shirt. It was only a matter of time, he thinks. It’s been leaking for weeks and nothing had been done, despite multiple calls to his landlord.

“I’ll get someone over there lickety split, sweetpea,” he had said, three weeks ago, sounding like literal sunshine. “Just gotta get this pie out of the- oh! Jack!”

“I just want to rinse my dishes,” he groans, attempting to block the spray with his palms. “I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this.”

He adjusts his hands so that one is blocking the water and reaches for his phone because if Eric won’t call someone, he’ll just deal with his wrath after he calls his own guy. It’s better than waiting for hours while sopping wet.

When his fingers are inches from his, thankfully dry, phone, he hears a soft “caucch” behind him. A glowing hand closes over the top of his and the water slows, just enough that he can loosen his grip and not feel like he’ll get more soaked than he is.

“What the hell happened?” Dex says, exasperated. “How does your sink get so bad that it explodes like this?”

“How the hell did you get into my apartment?” Nursey shoots back as Dex heaves a bright red toolbox onto the kitchen counter. “And how the hell was your timing so perfect? I was just about to call someone-”

“Call it intuition.” He does an unintelligible move with a glowing wrench that stops the water entirely. “I picked the lock on your front door. Bitty really needs to up the security on this place.”

“Who?”

“Bitty? The landlord?”

“You mean Er-” Nursey is interrupted by a dripping hand clapping over his mouth.

“He gave you his real name? Faeguh- Bits! He knows better!”

He inspects the faucet further and Nursey takes the opportunity to try and wring some of the water out of his shirt. His efforts are unsuccessful.

“Looks like your valve seat was corroded. I don’t have a spare one, but the wrench fixed it up pretty nice, if I do say so myself.” He mutters under his breath and the faucet spout glows gold. “It’ll last until you move out.”

“Uh, thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s no problem.” Dex places the wrench back into his toolbox and closes the lid. “It’s on me. I owed you one.”

“What?”

“I owed you one. From when we were at my place? After the bar last month?”

Nursey is in shock. “From when I sucked your dick?”

“Well, yeah. I said I owed you one. And you said I owed you food, and I said I owed you more than that, and you agreed, and then we got kebabs and then we passed out on my couch and had pancakes for breakfast?” The gold flecking Dex’s cheeks is even more noticeable when he blushes.

“That’s not how sex works, Dex.”

“When I say, ‘I owe you,’ that’s a binding agreement. Besides, it was quite literally the best sex of my life. So, until I have better sex, just call me if you need something fixed.”

He peeks into Nursey’s living room. “I can come over Memorial Day weekend, if you want, and help paint. The green is fucking ugly. I’ve told Bitty as much.”

“I like the green!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Nursey inhales deeply. “Fine. It’s not my favorite. But I’m attached to it at this point, okay?”

“But consider. A pale cream with green throw pillows.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Excellent!” Dex’s grin is blinding as he grabs the handle of his toolbox. “I’ll see you then.”

“Maybe I can see you before?” Nursey leans against the wall. “There’s a coffee shop a block over that has their own beehives for honey.”

“Holy shit.”

“Figured you’d like that. Are you free on Tuesday?”

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Perfect.”

When Nursey is sweeping his entryway later that day, he finds gold dust on the doorframe.

***

“Do you want to come over this weekend?” Chowder asks. “We’re doing a cookout for Memorial Day, and Farms wants you there. She says you have faerie blood, you know.”

“I’ve heard. But I can’t this weekend, I’m sorry.” Nursey rubs the back of his neck and feels his cheeks warm. “A, uh, friend of mine is coming over to help me paint my living room.”

“A friend?”

“A faerie friend.” He continues before he realizes what he’s saying. “I sucked his dick and now he comes over and helps me out with minor home repairs.”

“That happens. Glad the landlord is letting you paint your living room, though. The green is fucking ugly.”

“Hey!”

[hockeyfun]

Alex Galchenyuk #1.3

Warning’s: yelling at another girl, kissing, sexual tension

Word count: 1917

Author’s note: Italicized font means they speaking Russian

Alexander Galchenyuk #1 | 1.2 | 1.3

You eventually walked back into the room and Alex felt like the world stopped. You were trying your best to not show your emotions, but Alex saw it. Briefly your eyes wondered to him but just for a second. You were quick to divert your gaze. He didn’t understand what was going on in his head. His emotions for you didn’t necessarily change but it was like all the sudden he understood them. He had feelings for you too. With this new realization Alex was rejuvenated to talk to you. He was ready to confess his true feelings. He made a B-line straight for you. In your side vision you saw Alex making his way towards you. You honestly didn’t feel like dealing with your best friend, so you moved yourself deeper into the mass of his friends. You saw Nikita in the corner and practically ran to him. “Nikita,” you called out. He turned towards you in surprise. He gave you a warm smile. He looked around you like he was expecting someone else to be with you, “Where is Alex,” he asked. You wanted to roll your eyes at him but forced yourself not to. “I don’t know,” you responded solemnly. Nikita gave a look like he just put together a math problem, “It’s funny, I’ve never seen a friendship like the two of you. You two could be across the room from each other but you’re never not paying attention to one another. It’s like when one of you moves the other person moves. When one is upset the other can feel it from miles away,” he explained. Your heart was racing at his words, “your point?” He looked at you like he knew you knew, “My point is that isn’t a friendship. That’s deeper, and you can’t hide from Alex for too long,” he finished right as Alexander came up right behind you. He placed his hand on the small of your back, “Nikita,” he acknowledged. “Can we talk?” he whispered in your ear. You plastered a fake smile on and looked at your best friend, “What could we possibly have to talk about?” He wanted to roll his eyes at you being petty, “Please,” he begged. You didn’t want to but the look in his eyes made you nod your head in agreement. You began to follow him back to another room when Kara came up to Alex. “Alex, look how cute we look in my Instagram picture,” she shoved the phone in both of your faces. She was right they did look cute in her post, and it pained you to see it. You looked anywhere else but the photo. Alex barely looked at the photo, but he was staring at you and seeing how it affected you, He didn’t want you to think him and Kara actually had something going on. He wanted to be with you. “We should go out and celebrate your birthday at the club,” she told him. “I can’t, I think I should spend some time with my friend.” You looked at him a bit startled, but your bitterness and passive aggressiveness was coming out. “I think we should go. It would be a lot of fun, and I wouldn’t want to take you away from Kara,” jealousy seeped through your words. Alex gave you an angered look. Kara clapped her hands in glee.

The rest of the party you avoided Alex and instead you got to know many of his friends you didn’t know before. As the party began to die out you made sure you were a good host and said goodbye to each person and walked them to the door. You began to clean up the more people left. Eventually all those that were left was everyone who was going to the club. You decided it was a good time to change and get ready.

You were lucky you brought your suit case with you when you came to Alex’s this morning. You put on a spaghetti strapped tight black dress, it was something simple but showed you off. You then put on a simple choker necklace and did your makeup a bit smoky. You were ready to go. When you walked out to the now almost dead party Alex was sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand. When he saw you, his heart quickened. You looked amazing, all he wanted to do was run his hands all over your body and kiss you till his lips were raw. You caught his eyes staring at you and instantly you turned away feeling self-conscious. Kara sitting right next to Alex felt herself growing protective. “You’ve got to have a few shots before we go out,” she commanded of you. You didn’t even have enough time to answer as she dragged you away from Alex and towards where the alcohol was. You decided not to fight it and go with it. You took two shots of some Russian vodka that was in Alex’s collection. You weren’t drunk, but you were tipsy by the time you left. You sat right between Alex and Anna in the uber. Where your leg touched Alex’s burned. You felt him lean close to you, “You look beautiful,” he whispered. You were lucky for the dark car because if it was light out he’d be able to see the blush on your cheeks and the goose bumps that formed all over your body.

You practically jumped out of the car to get away from the sexual tension you had towards Alex. Anna dragged you away from the rest of the group. “We are getting drinks,” she said. You giggled at her even though it wasn’t that funny, just the lovely effects of alcohol on you. You both had downed a shot of tequila by the time the rest of the group had found you and you were feeling good. You weren’t one to get drunk a lot, so when you did Alex loved it. When he saw you giggling with Anna he let out a hearty chuckle. You were always ready to party and socialize after drinking, so when a handsome man came up to you and Anna, you invited him in with ease. Alex was currently talking to Kara, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from you talking to that guy. You looked interested and that scared Alex. Kara was trying hard to regain Alex’s attention. She was getting more and more impatient which caused her to be more and more annoying to Alex. You enjoyed the conversation with the man in front of you, but your eyes wondered to Alex in conversation with Kara. He looked like he was paying attention to Kara, but his hand went up to his earlobe and tugged on it slightly. You rolled your eyes at your best friend. You looked at the man in front of you and let out a what-could have-been sigh, “it was a pleasure talking to you, but I need to check on my friend,” you told him. You brushed your hair back and began your rescue mission. You walked up behind Kara and pushed your way between them. “Alex, I need you to dance with me, see that man over there he keeps trying to hit on me,” you lied while pointing to the nice man you just left. Alex played along, “of course, sorry Kara,” he called out as he followed you to the dance floor. “Smart thinking!” He hollered at you. You rolled your eyes at him, “you owe me! That guy was hot,” you yelled at him as you started swaying your hips. He rolled his eyes at you. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “can we talk now?” He asked. “Can’t we just dance?” you asked as you laced your fingers through his and continued moving. You didn’t want to deal with Alex drama. “We can do both,” he pulled you in closer to him. “Alex, we don’t have to talk about what happened earlier. I’m over it. Don’t worry.” You could see the frustration growing on his face. “No, that’s not what I want to talk about, but I’m sorry for that,” he began. “Alex,” you interrupted and continued, “it doesn’t matter anymore. You and I are cool. Whatever you have to say it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy right now.” He increasingly got more frustrated, so you tried to diffuse the situation. “Alex, I freaked out earlier. It’s not that big of a deal if you don’t see us as a couple. We are just best frien…” you were interrupted by Alex’s lips on yours. It took you a moment to realize what’s going on but the moment you did it was intense. You closed your eyes and grabbed him by his shirt pulling him closer to you. His beard tickled your lips and chin. You moved one of your hands to his neck and tried to pull him even closer. He placed his hands all over your body. Squeezing and tugging your body closer to him. It was the sexiest and most passionate kiss you had ever had with a person. Every moment you were attached to Alex you felt like you were going to lit up in fire. When you pulled apart to breath, Alex attached his lips to your neck. You leaned your head back and released a low moan. Cold air hit where Alex was as he was pushed off of you by the one and only Kara. Your hormones and anger rose. You caught a quick glance of Alex. His beautiful blue eyes looked filled with emotions. Your adrenaline filled you and so did you anger. “What the hell do you think you are doing” Kara said to the both of you. “Kara,” Alex began lightly, “I’ve told you, that you and I aren’t together anymore.” She looked shocked at his telling, but it was fake. You had it with this girl. You rolled your eyes at her and decided to step in. You began slowly and angrily talking to her in Russian. Kara began to get confused and a little scared. You caught Alex staring at you in amusement. “Get it?” You asked her, knowing very well she didn’t. “What? What the hell?” She huffed out. “Oh right, only two out of the three of us can speak Russian. Let me translate it for you. I know Alex has told you multiple times and probably in the nicest way, but you two are over. And in normal circumstances I’d feel bad for you but frankly I’ve been waiting for this moment for a really long time and I’m not going to let some delusional hook up ruin it. This is my moment, so you need to leave,” you finished out of breath. She was shocked at your outbreak. “Well, you can have him anyway. He wasn’t even that good,” She retorted and ran away. You felt a little bad, but it was a long time coming. “That was hot,” Alex said, “I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that.” You shook your head as you still looked out towards where she ran off. You shrugged your shoulders, “She ruined my moment,” you said nonchalantly. He placed his finger under your chin and turned your head towards his. He was smiling, “our moment,” he corrected you and leaned in for another kiss.