#also as a girl whose parents dressed her in boys' clothes i got made fun of at school for it and begged my mom for girls' clothes lol

[murderballadeer]

seeing stuff on instagram abt how clothes for little girls are often tighter and more revealing than clothes for little boys and they're also designed to be less practical for playing and running and all that kid stuff and everyone in the comments was like ummm just buy boys' clothes for your daughters? which like yeah but also why are they designing tight, revealing, impractical clothes for literal kindergarteners to begin with

[masterhandss]

May I ask, what happens in the short stories included in the Hamefura manga volumes? (e.g. highschool AU, kindergarten AU, genderbend AU, etc.)

Well, okay! I'm not good at summarizing stuff, so sorry in advance! I'm also writing these without rereading the Bonus SS so there may be small inaccuracies in these summaries. Some of these are gonna be longer than others depending on how much of I still remember lmao

I still suggest everyone go buy the manga volumes and give them a read, these extra chapters are so fun it makes me wish the anime fillers are always these wacky and entertaining (in fact I had to put writing this on hold because Season 2 adapted one of these, kinda XDD)

// spoilers for the hamefura manga volume bonus ss/special oneshots

Volume 1 - Untitled

Bakarina wakes up and realizes that she has no control over her body. She is confronted with a familiar scene of Katarina bullying Maria in Fortune Lover, and realizes that she's experiencing it from a first person point of view: through Katarina's eyes. She comments on how cruel Katarina is and explains the different ways she'd treat Maria differently, until Keith and Geordo arrive to save Maria. Bakarina feels unnerved and saddened by the angry and hateful looks that Keith and Geordo are giving her (Well it's Katarina, but Bakarina feels like they are look at her), and nervously wakes up from the dream. It is revealed that the dream took place some time before her arrival at the Magic Academy, and that she vows to work hard not to fall into a Bad End so that she'll never receive such hateful looks and be scorned by the otome game characters who she now considers to be her closest friends.

Volume 2 - Doom Route★Private School

Katarina gets awoken by Anne telling her that she needs to get ready to school. Katarina is surprised to find out that she has a school uniform and that she'll be heading to school in a fancy car. Anne tells Katarina that Keith won't be coming with her because he's already at school. When she gets there, she gets greeted by Keith who is part of the School's Disciplinary Committee. She is also greeted by Geordo, the SC President and his twin brother Alan, the Secretary. Keith's job is to check everyone's uniforms, so he reprimands the twins for their custom uniforms. Geordo tells him that he'll just have the rule changed, and that Keith's uptight attitude is why he doesn't have a girlfriend. This is how Katarina finds out that the engagement between Geordo and her is a verbal agreement between families, so she's technically engaged to him but it's not official.

After meeting up with all her friends, Katarina enters the classroom to find it looking just like her old one in Japan. She finds that she had scribbled doom flag avoidance plans on her desk and notebooks, and realizes that she's still in an otome game. Maria then enters and is introduced as the new scholarship student, and Katarina runs out to read her notebook. Everything is the same, from capture targets to rival characters , except the setting is a modern. Katarina finds out that her bad ends only lead to her getting either expelled and transferred or getting a restraining order. Katarina becomes confident in befriending Maria, and enthusiastically plans to enjoy her new life in a modern school. The chapter ends with Katarina buying lots of melon bread from the cafeteria, and wakes up form the dream before she could eat it.

Volume 3 - My Next Life in a Fantasy RPG

Katarina is awaken by Miri, who tells her that she is late and that she needs to eat breakfast. Katarina dresses up and realizes that her clothes looks like a cute outfit form an RPG. After being greeted by her father and being given a simple japanese breakfast (which made a bit emotional), Miri scolds her and tells her to hurry since she and Keith needs to check up on a few things before they leave. When Katarina asks where they are going, Luigi tells her that she and Keith are headed on a journey to become heroes and defeat the demon lord. She is told that they are the two chosen from the village as representatives. Katarina, being confused about being in an RPG-like world instead of an otome-line one, realizes that she is in a dream and is excited to play a heroine role in the fight against the monsters. Katarina is awoken by Keith during their carriage ride, and told that they were at the castle. Despite being representatives of their village, they still need to be selected as a true hero. She asks on how they were selected as the representative, and Keith tells her that it's done by lottery. Katarina admires the RPG-style outfits of everyone in the crowd, before the high priest arrives and announces the details of the selection.

Everyone is divided into small groups and left to face monsters in order to assess their abilities. Katarina, who has never fought before, is scared of the task because she's never fought monster before. Unlike Keith who looked like a knight, her weapon is a hoe. She asks the officiate beside her if she can just eliminate herself and watch from the side, to which Keith sighs in disbeliefs and the man giggles at the confession. As the officiate yelled at the sight of a world, everyone got ready for battle. While Katarina admired the fight from afar, she realized that something else was growling besides the wolf. Timeskip to hours later, Katarina was selected as a hero with the title of "Monster Tamer", and the officiate reveals himself to be Prince Geordo and asks to be a part of her party. As Katarina and her party march on to face the demon king, they encounter a witch, who reveals herself to be Miri with a book of manners. Katarina then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 4 - Dreamland Genderbender

Katarina wakes up to the sight of a male butler waking her up to tell her that she is late for school. When she asks him who he is, he says that he is Anne, Katarina's faithful butler. Katarina realizes that Anne is a man, and that she isn't a she, but a HE! Katarina freaks out at the fact that he is a man and realizes that there is something on his waist that definitely shouldn't be there. Before Katarina could ponder about it for too long, Anne helps him prepare for school. He gets greeted by Keith, and he becomes overwhelmed by how cute (and yet somehow very Keith-looking) she was. When they got to the Academy, Katarina is greeted by Geordo and Alan, who are princesses instead of princes. Due to the fact that everyone's names were still the same despite being gender-switched, she realizes she's in a dream and plays along. Mary greets Katarina good morning, and Katarina notes how gentlemanly and dashing he looked. Katarina was then greeted by Nicol, whose smile was so lovely it made everyone blush. As she pondered on whether the female Nicol was more charming than her male counterpart, Sophia greets Katarina.

On their way to class, Katarina looks into a window and feels bad about how mostly the same he looked despite being a boy. Geordo clings onto his right arm as she tries to lead him to class (emphasizing her chest while doing so, which Katarina notes as being possibly bigger than Mary's), while Keith takes the other arm and gets angry at the princess for her behavior. Katarina is overwhelmed by Keith's adorable height, and lets go of both of them to hug her. Geordo takes a hold of Katarina, vocalizing his jealousy over his touchy-ness with Keith and demands the same treatment because they are engaged and because she is much more attractive than Keith. The argument between Geordo and Keith becomes heated, discussing whether or not a huge chest is much more attractive in a woman. Alan doesn't want to be a part of it, and Nicol stops their discussion as it is embarrassing to hear for the other students. Katarina doesn't know how to react since she is a boy in this situation. When they get to the classroom, they are greeted by Maria, which prompts Katarina to contemplate on what the differences are in the world now that they all swapped genders. When they get to student council room, Katarina compliments Raphael on how small and adorable she looks, bringing back the heated discussion between the girls about chest sizes. Katarina shouts that he has no preference, and then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 5 - Doom Route Kindergarten

Anne introduces herself as a daycare worker at Doom Route Kindergarten, and awaits the arrival of the students. First car arrives with Geordo and Alan, children from a well-off family. Anne is asked to take care of the two, who she nicknames "Sebastian the Butler". Anne notes on how well mannered the two are, and how they are apparently children of a government figure. Next car arrives with Mary, who is a the very feminine fashionista among the children, who loves flowers and fashion. Next car arrives with Nicol and Sophia, who were admired by the staff because their loving parents drop and pick them up from school themselves. Nicol is rumored to be a future seducer by the staff, and Anne notes on how they used to never interact with other children until recently. Next comes a woman on a bike, revealing herself to be Maria's mother who is there to drop Maria off. Despite being the daughter of a normal company employee, Maria was able to enroll into a private kindergarten through a scholarship due to her talent in baking despite her young age. Maria used to have a hard time adjusting to being a school for rich kids, but she had become more enthusiastic about school more recently.

When Maria asked Anne if Katarina will like the treats she made, on cue, another car arrives. Miri angrily drags a half asleep Katarina out of the car, reprimanding her for napping as soon as she finished eating breakfast. Miri apologizes for her daughters rudeness, and Anne replies that she's used to it. Anne tries to wake up Katarina by telling her that Maria made treats for her, which works and jolts Katarina awake. Katarina constantly clings onto Anne and asks her to play with her, while the other children tries to get Katarina to play with them instead. Anne notes how happy she is that Katarina likes her so much, even if she gets glared at by the children as a result. After receiving so much offers of different activities to do, Katarina settles on challenging Alan, which everyone follows them to. Anne runs after them telling them not to climb any trees again. After that, Katarina wakes up from the dream.

Volume 6 - Magical★Girl Flag Breakers

I already made an attempt to translate this chapter, since Manga Volume 6 has yet to come out in english, so I suggest reading it! I'll still summarize it though I guess

Katarina is on her way to school, running with a cucumber in her mouth, until she accidentally bumps into what looks like a small doll. The doll talks back to her, making her realize that it is sentient. Katarina and the doll, who reveals himself to be Raphael the Spirit, have a quick banter that escalates into a discussions about the nature of spirits and the danger that the planet will soon face. As Raphael finishes his explanation, monsters summoned by the evil organization began to attack in a nearby park. Katarina and Raphael checks it, and finds a giant stuffed bear rampaging. Katarina attempts to flee, but Raphael asks her to help him. In a panic, Katarina says yes, and the two form a contract. Katarina transforms into a magical girl and attempts to fight the monster. Despite being confused, she was able to win, and thus beginning her journey as a magical girl.

Timeskip to a few weeks/months later, Katarina mentions that she had found more magical girls among students in her school which includes Mary from the Gardening Club, Sophia from the Literature Club and Maria from the Student Council. The three were recruited by a spirit named Anne. The four are close friends who walk together to school. During one of their walks, they are interrupted by Geordo, one of the Four Kings of Ruin who are part of the Evil Organization. Mary, Sophia and Maria get angry at him for ruining the moment between the girls, and Geordo calls upon his allies in order to be alone with Katarina. From the sky descends the other members of the Four Kings: Alan, Keith and Nicol. Rather than being excited for battle, the three instead berated Geordo for calling them during their free time. Geordo asks them to fight off the other three girls so that he can be alone with Katarina, but instead they interact with Katarina whom they have already met prior. In the end, Geordo is arguing with Mary and Sophia, Alan and Keith are flushed in the corner at the sight of Katarina, and Nicol and Maria are sharing food (since he dropped his pasta after being summoned by Geordo). Katarina wonders if she really is a magical girl since they haven't actually been fighting whenever they encounter each other, and then wakes up from the dream.

Rereading this now, I may have made these summaries a little too long... I hope this doesn't discourage anyone from reading the Bonus SS yourselves!! Please read them, they are so funny and good!!

Detective Katarina's Office isn't available yet, I might edit this post when that drops.

Thank you for the ask (help my fingers hurt from typing jshdfg)

[alienheartattack]

To All Of Us, From 2000 Years Ago

I got so mad about 139 and the leaks that I banged out my own 3000+ word ending to the manga today. Please keep in mind that this is a non-shipping story. Although I’ve exclusively written Rivamika before, this is not a Rivamika story, and although there’s an Eren/Mikasa scene at the beginning. there is no relationship between them, only the implication of feelings that are not quite reciprocated. I also threw some Levi fan service in there because why the hell not?

CW: There are references to and non-detailed descriptions of rape in this story.

You can also read this on AO3!

"You know what you have to do," Eren says. Mikasa pretends not to hear him over the rush of the little creek they're sitting by so he says it again, louder.

"I know," she sighs. "Even now, knowing that you've done something so unforgivable, a part of me doesn't want to."

"You're a good person, Mikasa. You'll be even better without me."

She snorts a laugh. "I've killed people, too. Just not as many as you did."

"You always had the weirdest sense of humor." Eren puts an arm around her, presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm going to miss it." That's what finally brings him to tears, the thought of not seeing Mikasa again. Or Armin. Or Connie, or Jean, or Captain Levi, even the rest of them. He's had plenty of time to accept that he'd die at nineteen, was always going to die at nineteen, but now that the moment has arrived he wants to hold on just a bit longer.

Mikasa doesn't cry, at least not the way he expects her to. Tears stream down her face but she doesn't sniffle, doesn't sob, doesn't rage or scream the way she’s done in the past. He sees them both, Mikasa the girl and Mikasa the soldier, perfectly coexisting in the inky blackness of her eyes. She has made her decision. She made it before she even stepped into the mouth of the Titan.

"Kiss me one last time," Eren weeps. "Please."

"Okay," she nods, cupping his face with one hand and leaning in close. "See you later, Eren."

When Mikasa pulls away from his lips, the deed is already done. His severed head feels sickeningly heavy in her blood-stained hands. His eyes gaze beyond her, beyond the veil of this world, clouded with the knowledge of the void. The Titan around her begins to disintegrate in plumes of white steam. Mikasa swears she can smell wildflowers.

"Mikasa Ackerman," a girl's voice echoes. Mikasa whips her head around, looking for the source of the sound. Someone seems to materialize from the steam, swirling eddies of smoke coalescing in the form of a small girl, scraggly blond hair falling into her eyes, barefoot in a dirty white dress. Her face is blank, her eyes downcast.

"Ymir," Mikasa says, the name forming in her mouth before she can think of it.

Ymir nods, then points to Eren's head. "You loved him. Why did you kill him?"

"I had to."

"Why?"

"Because some things are more important than my love." Ymir stares blankly, seemingly confused. "The millions of people who died are more important. The world is more important. Besides, what kind of person would I be to stand beside someone who could slaughter so many people so senselessly?"

"You… don't love him?" The little girl blinks quickly, white lids snapping over black eyes. Something about it seems inhuman, wrong somehow. Mikasa cannot help but think of insects.

A tear falls from her face and lands on Eren’s, snaking a trail down his cheek as though he'd shed it himself. "I can never forget what he did and I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him for it, but I'll always love Eren."

"You wouldn't die for him?"

Mikasa answers without hesitation. "Never."

Ymir's gaze snaps up to Mikasa's, and she feels sick from what she sees in the girl's odd, dark eyes: a hunger, almost starvation, for the scraps of affection Karl Fritz would throw at her; a longing to be treated well, to be fussed over and doted on and adored. Ymir would close her eyes and dream of a shining, beautiful man when the king held her down and fucked her, made her recoil, made her bleed, beat her when she cried out or complained of the pain. She carved out a space in her mind for him where she sculpted him into her ideal. Sometime between that first bloody night and the day the assassin's spear pierced her chest she invented a Karl Fritz out of whole cloth, a man whose cold entreaties and brutal assaults were proof of his undying love.

Mikasa sees these things from Ymir’s eyes, feels the bruises forming on her back, the tearing and bleeding between her legs, the rotted wine breath of Karl Fritz in her mouth.

"I would never have jumped in front of that spear," she says, more confident than she’s ever felt. "I wouldn't even have considered it." Ymir frowns, cocks her head like she's trying to understand. "You thought you were doing the right thing, but you protected a man who never loved you. You laid down your life for a man who forced your daughters to consume your body. He didn't even mourn you."

A flash of anger contorts Ymir's face. Her eyes dart around wildly, turning Mikasa's words over in her mind. "But he loved me," she insists.

"Did he ever tell you he loved you? Or did he treat you like a slave?" Mikasa's voice wavers at the word slave, at the memory of Eren screaming at her across that restaurant table; the moment her wall of denial came crumbling down. No matter what his plan was, it became clear that day that he would step on any of them to achieve it. She had no idea how true that assessment would become, millions of bodies crushed into the contaminated earth beneath the feet of Eren’s Titans.

She wonders if things would have happened differently if he'd just admitted once that he loved her.

"You are free," she tells Ymir. "You choose your own destiny. I am free, and I chose mine."

Ymir says nothing, her eyes luminous with tears, and then dissipates into the smoke. Mikasa is vaguely aware of the wavering steam around her, of Levi flying on Falco's back and pulling her out of the Titan's mouth before everything turns hazy and white.

She can see the scene from two thousand years earlier as clear as though she were there, floating above it all: the crowd come to see King Fritz's speech, the hooded assassin's arm pulling back, the tip of the spear glinting in the daylight. The assassin lets the spear fly, its arc perfectly aimed at the heart of the tyrant. His wife Ymir, older and slimmer than the girl Mikasa met but still with those same sad, black insect eyes, watches in horror as the tip of the spear flies closer and closer; but she does not move, not even when it impales her husband through the chest and the light in his eyes is snuffed out.

In time-lapse, Mikasa sees it all: the accession of Queen Ymir, wise and fair, and the moderate reigns of her three daughters, and their daughters after them. The power of the Titans remains within the royal family, passed down from mother to daughter, a shameful, secret birthright. They create diplomatic ties with other countries, offering succor and counsel, avoiding the path of war so as not to reveal their ultimate power. There is no Great Titan War, no walls, no telepathic manipulation. The world moves forward in fits and starts as it always has, small skirmishes and occasional wars, but the Eldians remain steadfast and committed to peace. Satisfied with Ymir's choice, Mikasa finds herself closing her eyes, opening them for the first time again in the year 835, in her parents' house just outside Shiganshina, as a new doctor pulls her into the world. He is not Grisha Yeager, she notes, and then she forgets who Grisha Yeager is entirely.

In the year 845, there is no Wall Maria for the Colossal Titan to breach, and no Colossal Titan to breach it.

Inside one of the cities in what was once Wall Rose, a history teacher writes notes on a chalkboard before his first class arrives for the day. He draws a crown in the middle of the board and writes the subject of the day's class inside of it: QUEEN YMIR THE WISE. The teacher is startled by a noise behind him; he turns to find one of his students, a shy girl called Sarah, taking a seat at her desk.

"School hasn't started yet," he says. "You're supposed to be outside."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith," Sarah replies. "I was looking at a really interesting bug and the other girls started making fun of me."

The teacher nods. "All right, just this once. If you’d like, sometime I could teach you how to stand up to those girls."

Hundreds of miles away, the forests of Dauper ring with the whoops of an exuberant girl, triumphing at having killed her first deer with a bow and arrow she carved herself. She doesn't care that she's scaring the other game away with her commotion, or that she has no idea how she'll lug a hundred-pound carcass all the way back home.

In Trost, a young boy lingers over his breakfast; not because he wants to miss school, but because his mother's omelet is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten and probably ever will eat. His mother ruffles his hair and pinches his round cheek, then gently chides him to eat faster or he’ll be late.

A little boy in Ragako District, a few inches shorter than his friends, demands another explanation of the multiplication tables. He doesn't quite understand the concept, goes blank when his friends try to explain arrays of rows and columns, but he believes that he can pass today's test if he tries hard enough.

Across the sea in Marley, the prosperous Eldian District is strewn with streamers, celebrating the 2000th anniversary of the assassination of the cruel King Fritz. The children have the day off from school and are gathering in the streets, purchasing candy and ice cream from vendor stalls and exchanging them as gifts to celebrate the sweetness of life. A little blond girl receives an extra coin from her father, who tells her to get something special for herself.

A few blocks away, a doctor fills his medical bag and sets off to see his first patient of the day. As he walks through the crowd of happy children, many of whom he’s delivered himself, he hopes that his only son will change his mind and join the family business.

In Mitras, a shopkeeper opens his door for the first time, pausing for a moment in the early morning sunshine to admire the wooden shingle hanging by his doorway, gently swinging in the breeze. It depicts a hand wrapped around a mug of tea, wisps of steam rising into the air above it.

The door opens while he's adjusting the canisters on the shelf behind the counter, making sure their labels face perfectly forward. His heart leaps at the tinkle of the doorbell. He picked the most musical one, the one that made him happiest when he heard it, and he feels very good about his decision.

"Hello, welcome to Ackerman Tea— Mom!" His voice takes on an adolescent whine when he addresses his mother, which makes him feel like a child and impossibly old at the same time, despite his twenty-six years.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be your first customer?" she asks, beaming. "Of course I'm going to come support my sweet boy." Her gaze sweeps over the shop, its walls painted a deep forest green, the mahogany counter polished to a mirror shine. "I'm so proud of you, Levi. You've worked so hard and it shows." Her voice quavers, her eyes filling with tears.

"Moooom," he trills, softer this time, quietly moved. Her presence feels like an auspicious omen, a reminder from the universe that someone will catch him should he fall. "Is there a tea you’re interested in, or would you like me to help you choose? We have more than thirty varieties."

"You've been practicing," his mother notes with a nod.

Levi shrugs off her comment, feeling a bit bashful that she’s noticed his hard work. "I've never been great with people, and this job is nothing but people. At least until I can hire someone to cover the counter while I blend tea in the back."

"You'll get there soon," she says, pulling a few coins from her purse. "Get me something you'd think I'd like."

He thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration, before his face lights up and he grabs a step-stool to reach a canister of black tea flavored with strawberry and rose. "This one is sweet and floral, but it becomes so much more when you add a bit of milk. You don't even need any sugar."

"Perfect. You even thought about how I take my tea." She places a few coins on the counter, watching her son approvingly as he scoops the tea into a bag, folds it closed with surgical precision, and ties a blue ribbon around it. "You're going to be a success, my love. I know it."

"That makes one of us," he smirks, then scoops the coins into his palm and puts them in the cash register, enjoying the feel of the heavy keys under his fingers, the spring-loaded pressure of the drawer. He hopes he gets to use it many more times today.

"Will you be home for dinner?"

"I should be. I can't imagine people will want to buy tea at night."

"Good," his mother says. "Because now that you're in business, we should talk about finding you a wife."

"MOM!" he exclaims, a furious blush coloring his face.

Further south in Shiganshina, Mikasa sulks as her mother walks her into town, not wanting to leave the safety of her parents' cabin to learn and play with the other children. She is perfectly happy to do chores on the farm, to learn the simultaneously mundane and arcane secrets of coaxing a plant from seed, to throw feed to the chickens and pull weeds in the garden.

"Mikasa, you're ten years old. Your father and I can't teach you everything," her mother says.

"I can learn from books. I don't need to go to school."

"The fact that you're saying that means you need to go. There's more to the world than just our farm, my sweet. You might want to see the world someday."

The little girl huffs. "I doubt it." Her mother simply shakes her head and smiles, ruminating on her daughter’s impending teenage years, a possible hint of rebellion, but finds that hard to imagine. Mikasa is usually a calm, easygoing child, though perhaps a bit too inquisitive and stubborn for her own good.

Mikasa hugs her mother fiercely at the school gate, watching as she turns and walks back up the road that leads to their farm. She’s excited to make new friends and learn new things, but she misses her home more than she ever thought possible. She lets out a soft sigh, then turns to face the crowd of running, yelling children; her new classmates.

She trudges around the grassy schoolyard, dodging groups of kids chasing each other or playing impromptu games. Everyone seems to know each other already; even if she did feel comfortable enough to go up to someone and introduce herself, she has no idea who to approach first.

"Hey! Give that back!" someone screams behind her. Mikasa turns around to see a small blond boy jumping up and down, reaching for a book that a larger boy dangles just above his grasp. The larger boy just laughs at him, taunting him with the book, threatening to tear it from its spine.

Mikasa frowns, balling her fists at her sides, then approaches the boys. "He said to give his book back," she says to the bully. "Give it back."

The bully laughs. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

"I think you should give the book back if you know what's good for you," she snarls, putting her hands on her hips. The bully laughs again and shoves Mikasa out of the way with one hand, making her stumble backwards, tripping over her own feet until she lands on her behind in the dirt. She gets up, dusts herself off, and runs up to the bully, punching him square in the nose. He falls to the ground, dropping the book. Mikasa tosses it to the blond boy. The bully grabs his nose, tears welling in his eyes, and lets out a wail when he sees his hand smeared with blood.

"You leave him alone!" Mikasa threatens, looming over the bully, her dark eyes shining. He scrabbles to his feet and runs away and she lets out a relieved breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

"That was amazing!" the little boy says. When he approaches her, she finds that he's not actually that small, only a few inches shorter than her. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"It's my first day," she replies. "I've lived here all my life but I haven't been to school yet."

"I'm Armin," the boy says. "What's your name?"

"Mikasa."

"That’s an interesting name. Are you from Hizuru?" Armin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity. He holds up his book, a thick, leather-bound tome, A Brief History of Hizuru and the Minor East Sea Islands written in gilt lettering. "My parents told me that the whole country is built around a volcano. A big mountain filled with liquid fire! Well, technically it’s molten rock."

"My mom's family is from Hizuru, but I’ve never been there and I don't know anything about any liquid fire mountains," she says tentatively.

"It's real!" he gushes. "I'm reading about it now. I could tell you about it more at recess if you want. I like to sit under that tree over there." He points off in the distance, at a huge pine tree that shades a corner of the yard. "They're going to ring the bell soon, otherwise I'd tell you now. Volcanoes are so cool. Sometimes they explode and shoot the liquid fire into the sky like a firework."

"Wow!" Mikasa marvels with a smile. "I can’t wait to hear about them."

[misssophiachase]

prompt- AH Klaroline. we usually see klaus developing feelings for caroline while she's in a relationship with someone else. i would like to see something where klaus has been in an established relationship with another girl and caroline realizes that she's developed feelings for him. (if you don't have time to do this one, don't worry about it).

Thanks nonnie, I love it so much! Inspired really. Got a bit carried away too, see notes at the end.

Synopsis: One wedding and a completely confused best man and maid of honour.

“And all you never say is that you love me so.”

All You Never Say

Caroline Forbes, Maid of Honour, Invites you to celebrate:

The Bachelorette Party for

Katherine Pierce

On Saturday fifteenth of June, twenty-twenty one at Connaught Bar, Mayfair, London at 2000h

Dress: Party Attire

One week before the nuptials - Connaught Bar, London England, 10:21pm

“What happened to the Kitty Kat I knew who’d usually be dancing on the bar right now and showing the stripper just how it’s done?” 

Although her tone was light and teasing, Caroline was a little disappointed given this was her best friend’s bachelorette party and there wasn’t a tacky veil or penis straw in sight. 

Also, they’d been forced to hire out a venue to avoid unwanted media attention before the big day so the atmosphere wasn’t quite what she was expecting either. 

The word lacklustre seemed a good word to describe it all.  

Maid of Honour Caroline had been banned from most fun things when organising Kat’s last night of ‘freedom’. 

“She’s marrying one of the United Kingdom’s most eligible bachelors, not to mention the youngest Minister in the Government’s Cabinet. That doesn’t really go with the wholesome reputation she’s trying to portray, Care,” Bonnie offered, eating the olive from her martini. “Although, I think it’s a shame you can’t put those pole dancing moves we learned in Cabo to good use.”

“This is one pathetic stripper, just saying,” Rebekah offered, joining them at the bar and stealing Bonnie’s drink from her outstretched hands.

“I was on the other side of the world, I could only go by his rating on the internet,” Caroline argued. “Plus, I also had to find one who kept some clothes on and we all know what that means.”

“What’s underneath doesn’t match the whole package,” Bonnie finished. “We don’t need to tip him, do we?”

When Katherine called Caroline thirteen months earlier to say she was engaged to Elijah, Caroline couldn’t have been happier. They’d all met each other at private boarding school and had stayed in touch ever since and even though they seemed like opposites, Kat and Elijah complemented one another. 

Also, Katherine’s job as head neurosurgeon at one of London’s most prestigious private hospitals and her impressive family inheritance greatly helped matters when it came to swaying his parents on the engagement. 

The Mikaelsons. 

Mikael and Esther were extremely wealthy and well-connected in English society.  They came from family money and owned a large and impressive property portfolio spanning the entire globe and had sent their children to the best boarding school the US had to offer.  

Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire. 

Caroline wasn’t wealthy like the rest of her friends. She’d be lying if that fact didn’t make her feel somewhat inferior. Her father owned the local general store and, if it weren’t for her scholarship, Caroline would have ended up in public school. Not that she would have minded but her father insisted it was too good an opportunity to pass up. 

Attending the exclusive boarding school had been an adjustment to say the least and not just because of the ugly and uncomfortable uniforms they had to wear. Caroline was assigned to a room with three fellow students. 

Katherine Pierce, although the daughter of a talented cardiothoracic surgeon and a world class architect, was wild and impulsive and constantly in trouble with the dean for her indiscretions like sneaking out to meet boys and smoking on occasion. 

Bonnie Bennett was the gorgeous but serious high achiever whose parents owned one of the biggest publishing houses in the world. She was taught never to take anything for granted and work hard for what she wanted in life. 

Rebekah Mikaelson, while strong-willed and passionate, was the odd one out from the beginning. She made it her aim in life to drive the other girls crazy with her brittle personality and unwanted opinions. Although it took a while, and a few choice fights that needed to be broken up between her and Katherine, the girls became best friends. 

Rebekah’s brothers all attended the school at the same time but in different years with Elijah the eldest followed by Klaus then Kol and youngest sibling Rebekah.  

The Mikaelson boys and their best friend from home, Enzo St John, were definitely the most popular and sought after by the female student body. Caroline, not being one to conform, refused to play that game. She had no intention of stroking their egos any further, especially head womaniser Klaus. 

There was no doubting he was gorgeous, it ran in their family after all, but he knew it. 

Caroline found that she could have a fun time with Enzo, a deep and meaningful discussion with Elijah and a joke with Kol but when it came to Klaus all he did was tease her and rile her up. 

Of course she told herself it was because he was an immature idiot but wasn’t overly convinced it was the only reason given the looks she’d send his way when she knew no one was looking.  Caroline hoped whatever weird thing was happening would dissipate when they graduated. 

Kol and Bonnie had dated for a year at school, but apart from them they all stayed friends. So much so, that after they’d all graduated and gone their separate ways in life they still caught up for most significant occasions. 

This wedding being one of many. 

Katherine and Elijah had reconnected in Boston and, even though she always said he was too serious, they fell in love and were now on the verge of marriage. 

Caroline was so excited, if not about the bachelorette party. 

“Who are we kidding? I got the wild stuff out when you three were all too busy being good girls in boarding school,” she scoffed. Caroline wouldn’t admit it aloud but she had a point. “And there’s nothing stopping you three from getting up there with the stripper.” 

“Pass,” all three replied, looking up at him ominously. 

“How about we get out of here and see what the boys are up to?” Katherine suggested a twinkle in her brown eyes. 

“Because I think that defeats the purpose of a bachelorette party, Pierce,” Caroline drawled. “And this is Elijah, no offence but poker doesn’t sound all that exciting if you ask me.”

“Says the girl with the special poker skills,” Kat smiled deviously. “Klaus likes to think he’s the best player but we all know you could give him a run for his money. I’d say watching you fleece him is a fun way to spend an evening.”

Caroline had to admit angering the best man and her wedding partner certainly had its benefits. They’d seen each other in passing the previous day on arrival but otherwise hadn’t connected much recently because she was based on the West coast in Los Angeles and him on the East in New York City. 

He was the CEO of a prominent stockbroking firm and, by all reports, had been dating a Texan oil billionaire’s daughter and model, Hayley someone, for the past year.  

Okay, her surname was Marshall. 

She may have read a few editions of Page Six and seen them attending premieres and openings. She was sort of attractive.

Okay, she was gorgeous with big, brown doe eyes and a glossy chestnut mane and legs for days. 

Caroline told herself that she didn’t care more times than she could count but there was also something lingering beneath the surface with Klaus. She would have endeavoured to forget him after school had it not been for something that happened two years earlier and changed her opinion of him completely. 

Bastard.

And with that came the insecurity she hated. Even though she’d carved out a successful career as a human rights lawyer, she’d never fit into his life because she didn’t have a rich family or a huge inheritance like Hayley. Not that she cared but she knew his family did. 

She noticed her friends giving her weird looks, clearly she didn’t realise how much of a Klaus trance she’d descended into. 

“Sure. Why not?”

American Bar, Savoy Hotel, London 11:07pm 

“This is lame,” Kol scoffed, throwing his cards on the makeshift poker table. 

“He’s only saying that because he’s losing,” Enzo laughed, pulling the chips towards him greedily. 

“No, I’m saying that because this is no bachelor party,” he huffed, standing up and going to the bar to make himself another drink. “You couldn’t even organise one, measly stripper?”

As with the girls, the guys had hired out the venue for privacy reasons, not that they were actually doing anything untoward. 

Klaus had won the most money so far but he’d left the table to take a call from Hayley letting Enzo win a few rounds in his absence. She was arriving the next day for the wedding and was calling to check on the arrangements. 

Klaus was certain he’d told her multiple times but she was someone who liked things just right. But she also liked to call. 

A lot. 

At first he thought it was endearing but after a year he was starting to realise it was largely overkill. So too, her obsession with all things materialistic and celebrity and having to be at the opening of everything and anything. Klaus liked to keep more of a low profile if he could and that trait only reminded him of his parents and their chosen life together.

When he’d met her during a wild weekend in Miami, Klaus was immediately taken with her. He even thought it was love but decided that was just the tequila talking and it was most definitely lust. Klaus didn’t do relationships and he assumed she would be a momentary distraction until his parents had taken a strong liking to her.  Or more accurately to her wealth and family connections and future prospects for them. 

With Mikael and Esther it wasn’t much about love but what you did for a living and how much money your family had. Their marriage was case in point. 

Klaus wasn’t one to do what his parents told him but he’d long felt the black sheep given his secret paternity and decided it would be good to earn their favour for a change.  

There was also another reason to entertain the relationship, one that had made him realise that, no matter what, he was always going to have to settle for second best. 

“Are we interrupting anything?” Klaus looked up into the eyes of his future sister-in-law. He and Katherine had acted like siblings from the moment they met so to him her marriage to Elijah was inevitable.     

“Great!” Kol growled from his vantage point behind the bar. “Not only do I have to sit through this poor excuse for a party but now the girls have arrived.”

“Nice to see you too, Kol,” Bonnie said, raising her eyebrows. Although they’d dated over ten years ago everyone seemed to think something was still very much happening between them. 

“As much as I’m glad to see my beautiful fiance,” Elijah smiled, standing so he could pull her into his arms affectionately. “I’m not sure this is the done thing.”

“Oh, you mean like strippers, brother?” 

“You’re more than welcome to our stripper, Kol, we only left him in Mayfair about ten minutes ago so you might be able to catch him if you’re lucky,” Rebekah teased, swiping a few of Enzo’s prized chips from the table.

“Oi, woman!” He muttered, attempting to take it back while she squealed in response. 

Rebekah and Enzo had been play fighting since he was eleven and she was nine.  The rest of the group all knew it was unresolved tension that would finally sort itself out some day so were just waiting for it to click into place. 

“So, what you’re telling me is that the girls were allowed to have a stripper?” Clearly, Kol wasn’t letting this one go easily. 

“Oh would you please shut up, little brother, does it shock you that Elijah didn’t actually want one?” Klaus barked, his brother wearing on his last nerve. 

For the most part his gaze had been surreptitiously trained on the maid of honour.  Attired in a little, black dress that hugged her in all the right places it was incredibly distracting.  She was also wearing her hair just how he liked it, loose and a little wild. How many times had he imagined running his fingers through those waves? Too many to count.

Yes, Caroline Forbes was his dirty little secret. One that he had every intention of keeping because it would do him no good to reveal it. 

“I promise that when you get married I’ll book out an entire strip club,” Enzo offered, stealing the chip from Rebekah’s grasp while she wasn’t watching and sending her a triumphant smirk. “Happy?”

“Are we playing poker or what?” Caroline asked. This got his attention. Klaus looked over at her, his eyebrows cocked curiously. 

“You play poker, love?”

“I dabble,” she replied, taking a seat at the table. “I mean, I used to play with my grandpa when I was about ten. Pretty sure the rules haven’t changed much since then.” It would have been adorable if Klaus wasn’t so competitive by nature. 

“We are playing for real money here,” he warned, giving her one last chance to back out. “I mean I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” 

“I’m a big girl and can take care of myself,” she shot back. “So, just deal the cards, Mikaelson.” 

The others took their place and the game was restarted, even Kol seemed to have gotten out of his funk to play. The first hand went like this:

“All red,” Rebekah smiled triumphantly, laying her cards on the table. After betting her entire bank it was sufficed to say she was out from the get-go. 

“All red? Seriously, little sister? Can you please take her away Enzo and never let her play ever again,” Klaus muttered through gritted teeth. How were they even related?

Second hand ended in Katherine and Elijah being expelled for too much PDA at the poker table. Neither of the love birds minded a little time out in the corner. 

Third hand came down to a poor display of bluffing from Kol while Bonnie complained because all she wanted to do was play Go Fish because it was more entertaining.

Then there were two.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just give in, Forbes?” Klaus asked, leaning back lazily in his chair.  She was studying her cards carefully. Most hands she’d folded before betting anything and he was starting to realise she was too careful, much like the girl he knew in real life.   

“Give me a minute,” she hissed, fastening a loose wave behind her ear. Klaus could tell it was a sign of a bad hand but at the same time he wished he was the one to place it there. 

“Okay, I want three cards,” she asked, placing the discarded ones face down. 

“Maybe you should just fold, love?” He asked, partly because he was concerned but also because Klaus knew he was that accomplished. His straight flush was looking extremely good right now. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me what to do, ass,” she offered, noting his shocked look in response. “I was just trying to counter your love with something equally fitting.”

“Fine,” he murmured trying to pretend not to feel dejected. “Three cards.”

She took them and again studied them closely. Meanwhile the rest of the group had gathered around, no doubt sensing this was their last hand and everyone could finally go home. 

“Okay, how about we stop beating around the bush and I just bet everything I have,” she said pushing it all into the middle. 

“You’re bluffing,” he blurted out, knowing it was impossible she had a hand to beat his flush. 

“I guess you’ll have to bet to find out,” she smiled. All he wanted to do was kiss it off her face and that was just for starters. He shook his head reminding himself that he needed to relax. 

“Call,” she said, her expression serious. They held each other’s gaze for a prolonged period, Klaus telling himself it was to try and read the poker signs but that wasn’t it at all. He suddenly realised that he could stare at her for hours and never tire. 

Not just hours, forever maybe.  

He cleared his throat knowing that everyone was now watching in anticipation. 

“Straight flush,” he grinned proudly, laying it out on the table. She gave it a brief look before placing hers next to his. 

“All red.” Given it was a ten, Jack, Queen, King and Ace of diamonds, also known as a royal flush, she was clearly being facetious. 

“You played me, Forbes.” He finally uttered amongst the cheers and Rebekah’s insistence that she must have had a winning hand all along. 

She pulled the chips towards her happily choosing not to respond immediately. His eyes were still trained on her though, desperate for some kind of response.

“And you underestimated me, Mikaelson,” she murmured. 

Yes. Maybe he had underestimated her and everything else.

TBC - Next part will be up tomorrow PM..there’s a chance encounter in the middle of the night, a rehearsal dinner and a slight wedding mishap before the big day. But let me know what you think so far : ) 

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[cedricslover]

Troubled pt.4

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.5 Pt.6

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…

Chapter summary: you fell into a slump after the break up, but thankfully you had friends to somehow lighten up your mood. Not until you found out the true identity of Professor Moody, everything went downhill, just like you expected.

Note: there is no specific house:))) i can make requests if y’all have one. 

Warnings: angst, hair being pulled, mentions of cheating, slight violence (for self defense)

Word Count: 4.6k

The week went by and the next thing you knew it was already the end of the winter break. 

"Of course" you scoffed as you stood up and opened the door, "Phoebe" you said your roommate's name with boredom. "It's the last day of winter break, are you sure you're not goin' out?" She asked you-again.

"I told you. No. I'm just staying here until classes start" You declared and walked towards your four post bed, leaving the brunette girl standing at the doorway. 

"So what really happened?" She started bugging you again. She never runs out of questions ever since the Yule Ball.

"What happened is that you shut your mouth and go wherever you want" you covered yourself with the blanket while laying down on your bed. You just wanted peace, is that too much to ask. No question, no noise, because that voice in your head was loud enough. 

"Fine." She finally gave up, "I know what you're doing, and I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I'm here" she said before you heard her footsteps getting far. 

You removed the blanket that covered you and sat up, slowly, the guilt crept inside you. The past days you just ignored everyone, you easily get annoyed, and the farthest place you just went was your house common room. 

You cried your eyes out the whole day whenever your roommates left the dorm, after a day of not eating anything they decided to bring you food every now and then from the Great Hall. But you still became a bitch. 

Inhale, hold, exhale, you tried relaxing yourself. Getting a grip from your intrusive thoughts, locking them up in that vault in your head. 

"For a day" you told yourself while looking at the mirror you swallowed excessively. You look terrible, not gonna lie. Your hair was messy and starting to get greasy, dark circles, and obviously dehydrated. 

So, you started with a shower, been there for an hour, scrubbing your skin and scalp. Maybe the scrubbing can remove even just a little bit of your demons, but it was ineffective. 

While looking for a sweater to wear you managed to pick up Cedric's sweater. The sweater you wore during your first anniversary.

You smiled but immediately faded, oh yeah, you two broke up. 

But isn't it just decent to bring this sweater back? You felt absolutely insane, there's a pile of Cedric's clothes in your wardrobe and you just want to give his sweater back? 

Oh please.

"Ced, can I have this?" You turned around to your boyfriend as he went out of the bathroom, water dripping from the ends of his hair and his upper body was visible. You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him when you felt your cheeks burning. 

He got this Adonis body and who wouldn't dare to blush if it was showcased in front of you.

"Absolutely love, you can have that" he said and hugged you from the back. 

"You don't mind if I steal your clothes?" You laughed and looked at him. "No. Besides, you're not stealing them" he kissed your shoulder and rested his chin on it "if you wanted to steal it, you wouldn't ask my permission" his chuckle was music to your ears. "And next time don't even bother to ask. What's mine is also yours. Alright?" He kissed the top of your head and started to look for clothes to cover his jaw dropping body. 

"Is that so? Okay. What's mine is also yours too then" you smiled and laid down on his bed while he got dressed. 

"Hmm?" Cedric crawled to you and stopped when he's on top. You smiled and scrunched your nose as his scent brushed your nose. "You smell so good." You groaned "-Merlin I fucking love you" he laughed at your statement. 

"I fucking love you more" his husky voice filled your ears before his lips pressed onto yours.

You were unconsciously smiling as you reminisced. Funny. How all of it will be mere memories, just because of this bloody mark. 

After you got dressed, you packed Cedric's clothes into a bag. Maybe you could ask someone, his roommate, friends, or just someone to give him this. You can't just let his things sit in your place, it'll be hard. 

"Y/N?" You heard Alice's voice as you stepped outside your dorm, you turned your head to the blonde girl who was standing a few feet apart from you. "Come here babe" she said and opened her arms which you occupied. "It's so nice to see you not looking miserable" she laughed and caressed your face. 

"We'll always be here okay?" She smiled sweetly at you. 

No you won't. 

But you chose not to say it.

"Phoebe!" You called your roommate who was out in the snow, snogging with a girl. Yeah, she's gay as fuck.

"Y/N?!" Her eyes widened as she looked at your direction. You waved your hand and smiled at her, as if it was the cue for her to come over.

"Wait, is that the girl you took to the ball?" You started teasing her, she turned scarlet and looked at the girl who was waiting for her. "Yeah…" she answered awkwardly that made you smile. Everything seems to be doing fine after she came out. You were so proud. 

"If you're so head over heels for her then go back there mate” you mocked the boys who always make fun of her “I'm fine, I'm just going to look for the twins while you-" you tried your best not to laugh "snog".

You walked right after and left Phoebe whose lips were curled just like her hair. She seems happy to be worried for you. But before you continued, you called her again, “Fibs... I’m sorry” you looked at her apologetically and she answered you with a sweet smile and a nod.

You walked around the castle, into the Great Hall, courtyard, some classrooms, but you can't find the twins. The last time you saw them was during the Yule Ball. Yeah, the Yule Ball that you didn’t even enjoyed.

"Are you going?" Cedric asked you when you started taking the path to your common room. 

You turned around and forced a smile at him "Yeah, just say that I'm not feeling well" it felt like every word that comes out from your mouth backfires and turns into a single needle piercing your throat. 

"Oh. Okay" he nodded without energy, it must be hard for him too. It happened so fast. This wasn't meant to happen. He wasn't supposed to know this early, but here it is. 

He started walking back to the Great Hall where you can hear the commotion, people having a great time, dancing, singing, laughing, while you will most likely spend your night in your dorm, crying in your dress that Molly bought, ruining your makeup.

"Ced" you called him one more time and he immediately turned to you, like he was expecting you to say something, something impossible. That it might be a joke, or maybe you two can do something, but if he wanted for it to be a joke, you wanted this to be a dream. All of this.

"Merry Christmas" you smiled again, but this time, it wasn't forced, it was genuine. You saw a tear left his eye before you turned your back. And by every step, you felt your heart being pulled away from you, your life, and your peace. 

"Lee!" You called the attention of the black boy with dreadlocks who was walking around the courtyard. "Have you seen the twins?" You asked as he approached you. He just shrugged as an answer and apologetically smiled right after. "It's not my business but still, you're my friend so I'll tell you. They're mad. They're probably avoiding you" Lee tapped your shoulder before he walked away. 

You were standing there, dumbfounded, full of questions. Why are they mad? Did you do something? Where are they? Is it a prank? 

And again, the voices in your head won't stop. Everything is not getting better. "Shut up" you didn't realize you said it with your voice and not just in your head. Thankfully, it just came out as a whisper. 

You hugged yourself as the cold breeze went by, but you still decided to look for the twins. 

"Fred? George?" You called on one of the secret rooms, this is where you three often hang out, you saw the box of fireworks properly labeled, you can say that the twins are more organized to their products than school stuff.

You roamed your eyes at the room, it was big enough for a bunker bed to be placed, there's also a corner for the twins' products, there was also your corner, filled with snacks, some stuffed animals you like so much, a picture of your family, and your most cherished guitar. You touched it and felt the tip of your hands travel the strings, you missed playing it, the last time you played was before your parents died. It was your mother who taught you how to play. 

"Mum it's so hard. Especially the F chord. I'm giving up." You whined to your mom as you two sat at the front porch, she was knitting a neck warmer for you to use. 

"Sweetie, of course it would be hard." She stopped and looked at you, you both definitely have the same eyes. "But it's a process. Not everything would be easy, but don't be too hard on yourself. Come here, take a break" she reached for you and you sat beside her as she wrapped the neck warmer on you.   

"You like it?" She asked you while you observed and touched the neck warmer, its soft texture, its heat. It would always feel like home while you wear this. You raised your head and smiled "I love it".

You miss your mum. You touched the neck warmer you were wearing and felt it. Maybe. You can feel her. See her again. But the only thing you felt was the fabric, no mum.

"Y/N?" You heard the twins said and you turned around. They saw your eyes that were on the verge of crying. 

"Something wrong?" George asked with full concern, they were both looking at you, confused, sad, and concerned. 

But without a word you hugged them. Tight. Then you started crying. Like a little girl crying to her parents, saying that someone stole her candy. 

"Shhh. 's alright. We're here" You heard Fred say while he caressed your hair. Meanwhile George was tapping your back. They were doing this to calm you down. 

"I miss my mom" you finally talked between your sobs. "I miss her" you wailed again. 

“What? We’re not mad” George stated as you three were laying down the bunker bed, your feet touching the ground while you three stared at the upper part, there were drawings you and the twins made when you were in your first year. 

“Lee told me you two were. Maybe he’s referring to another kind of mad” you stifled a laugh. 

“We’re not THAT mad too!” Fred exclaimed. “Alright. If you say so” you just answered. 

“Is that supposed to be a dragon Fred?” you pointed to a drawing, the parchment was getting more old but the drawing was still there. It was something that has wings and a tail. You felt him nod. “Not a lizard with wings?” you laughed and George didn’t even try to hide his laugh too. 

“Aren’t dragons just lizards with horns, wings, and fire breath?” Fred asked while you and his twin were still laughing. “Wait-” you muttered when you realized what he just asked. 

“THAT WILL MAKE TOTAL SENSE!” you three said in unison with wide eyes, still staring at all your awful drawings as a child. 

“Should we ask Charlie?” you stood up “Accio parchment” and the parchment went straight to your hand. “Is there a quill here?” you looked around, not bothering to stand. “Accio quill” you heard George and the next thing there was already a quill and ink in his hand. “Here” 

Dearest Charlie,

                       Good day lad, it is us, your favorite trio. We hast a most major question and we would appreciate if thou answer as fast as thou could. We wot thou love dragons so much and of course we love thou moe.  

 yet  the question is, art not dragons just better versions of lizards?

loving, 

Fred, George, Y/N

You three laughed as George read the letter out loud. You always do this whenever you send letters to Charlie. You all act like it was the old times, you write in Old English, and you sometimes even speak in Old English. It was something Charlie always looked forward to whenever he visited home, his dorkhead trio. 

"It's almost lights out. We should head to our dorms" you heard Fred say as he started to clean up the mess you three made. Your eyes widened and looked at George who has a lopsided smile. 

"Am I alive? Is this heaven? Or am I dreaming? Is this real? Frederick Gideon Weasley is afraid of lights out? He's following the curfew? Pinch me George" you shifted your gaze to Fred and George, it was utmost not Fred-like to say “we should go back before lights out” he liked sneaking back, he liked ruining the dark and quiet halls. Why would he say such a thing?

"Ow!" You glared at George who actually pinched your arm, "It was just an expression!" You widened your eyes as you rubbed your arm, he just laughed and apologized to you.

"No but on a serious note, why is he, FIRST OF ALL, cleaning?" You and George looked at Fred who was now arranging the wizard chessboard that you used, "-and told us to go back BEFORE lights out?" You crossed your arm and still stared at Fred, squinting your eyes at him, he finally stopped. 

"Fine fine, it's because-" Fred started talking again and stopped, he looked at George who was beside you and his look was saying 'SOS help me' but George just ignored him and continued to fix his shirt-that in fact there is nothing to fix, therefore 'pretend fixing' are the right words.

"I promised to Angelina that I'll go back before lights out" he said with a low voice, more like, whispering. 

"Huh? What? I can't hear you" you tilted your head while George was biting his inner cheek in order to not laugh. 

"I promised-" you interrupted him

"LOUDER!"

"I SAID I PROMISED ANGELINA THAT I'LL GO BACK BEFORE LIGHTS OUT!" He shouted back that made you stiff, and then, you and George broke down again, laughing. "I heard it the first time" you said between your laughs, waving your hand at him, while Fred seemed to be annoyed but trying his best not to laugh too. 

Your laugh and George's laugh are the only ones that were heard in the closed room, it was contagious and after a minute of trying his best not to be on the same boat as you two, Fred finally gave up and laughed with you and his twin.

"You're not going back yet?" George asked you when you didn't come to the door with them, you shake your head in response. 

"Uhm, alright, just don't get caught" he said and the two of them waved at you before stepping out. 

Now the room was filled again with silence, gone was the chaos, the laughing, shouting, the running, and even throwing of things. It was only you and the silence. 

After half an hour of just staring at nowhere you decided to stand up. You picked up the lamp and headed out. You forgot your wand at your dorm and you've probably never said stupid to yourself so many times. 

Walking the hallway, still being cautious to your surroundings, you don’t want Filch or Mrs. Norris seeing you, polishing the trophies without using magic is one thing you don’t want to do. 

As you walked, feeling the walls, slowly gliding your hand through it, you suddenly saw a silhouette, it was a man, thinking that might be another student you stepped closer until his back was quite visible, but still it was far enough for him to not notice you. You observed him more, all your attention was to this man. 

His black trench coat, straw coloured hair, he was not familiar to you. 

You followed him, for about 2 minutes in complete silence, even your footsteps were light in order to not make any unnecessary noises. You just concentrated on the man and to yourself that you didn’t realize you bumped into a suit of armor and it made a loud clang. You hit your head hard and was about to curse when suddenly someone grabbed your wrist from behind and dragged you into a space between the walls, the person covered your mouth and blew the lamp. 

It was a helpful gesture to be honest, because you then hitched when you saw the silhouette walking in front of the both of you. You looked at the person in front of you, you can’t recognize his face, it’s so dark that you can only hear footsteps of the man you were following, he was still phasing, looking around to see what might have made that noise.

You didn't waste any time, you moved to the spot where you can see clearly and was shocked to see Professor Moody. Without any hesitation you ran towards him 

“Professor!” you seemed panicking, while he was shocked, he looked at you with disbelief and you were confused why he was making such an expression. 

“Professor I saw a-” you were cut on by someone putting its arm over your shoulder. 

“She saw heaven professor, if y’know what I mean” the person said, you froze, how can you be dumb enough to not know. 

“Silly kids. Off to bed. You two better go, Filch might come” Moody said and turned its back to you,

and Cedric

After Moody disappeared in your sight you immediately removed Cedric’s arm that wrapped you. “What do you think you’re doing?” you took a step back to make a space for you two, and the moon was just right on time to shine between you. There you saw a clear view of him, his stance, his fluffy hair, his grey eyes, everything.

He didn’t answer and just stared at you, “He might have caught that person, you saw it too, that man was not from here” you tried not to shout, you were frustrated, scared, you didn’t want to think about it, but if danger is lurking around at Hogwarts only two people are the possible targets. 

You and Harry. 

“Did you see his face?” he finally talked, you looked at him with shock all over your face, “NO, I didn’t, I just saw his back, but I know he’s not anyone I know, or if it’s a student he would be  familiar” 

He covered half of his face with a hand, gliding it down to his jaw, while his other hand was on his hips, it was an act of frustration. 

“That’s the point, you didn’t see his face, but you saw the back, and the clothes.” he got his wand “Lumos” there it is, you can see clearly. But you don’t know what to think about.

Is it your ex boyfriend who was in front of you in the middle of the night or the fact that the danger might be lurking around Hogwarts, and you being completely oblivious, almost trusted them.

 After that encounter with Cedric before the term started , you avoided him, even if it is quite hard since you two have classes together you still managed. There was nothing more in that conversation, after he lit up the tip of his wand you walked and ran, not thanking him, not talking to him, you just ran back to your dorm, not minding the dark hall, you just trust your instinct to where it would take you and luckily, you arrived safely.

January came by and it’s almost February, you were the talk of the school, you and Cedric. When people started to notice that you two were not walking to class together, sitting at the Great Hall together, no PDA, a lot of rumor started. And Rita Skeeter just made it worse.

“What’s that?” Angelina sat beside you as you read the Witch Weekly. You gave it to her and stabbed your steak, wishing it was Rita. 

“PRETTY BOYS CAN BE PLAYED AROUND, what is this?” She read the headline,

“Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory and ex girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N cause of break up revealed. Hold up, is this you and George?!” Angie looked at you like her heart just dropped, you shook your head to deny it and glanced at your food again. 

“Then who is this?” she surveyed the moving picture with full attention, well if you didn’t know better you would also believe the article, “Georgie’s girl” it was morning but you felt the energy draining from you, “Please don’t tell anyone. Fred knows” you continued and tried to take a bite, but you felt your stomach turn upside down. 

It was a picture of George kissing a girl the same hair color as yours, her face was covered as George’s back was at the camera. 

“I’m so sorry boo” she hugged you and you felt her warmth, you just stayed there for a while, laying on her shoulder, you’re not crying, but you wished you were. 

“Shit” you blurted out as you opened Professor Moody’s office, he must be at class now so the coast should be clear. 

“Alastor Moody?” you called with a low voice, you jumped as one compartment started to rattle. Slowly but surely you went up to it. However, before you can even touch it you are pushed sideways, you hit your hip on a table and your sleeve might have been grazed in a sharp object within the room for it to be torn. 

“Well well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N” Professor Moody was right in front of you now, you felt your insides shaking adding up to the pain of your hip, you know this is not Alastor Moody. 

“I guess you figured it out?” he said and suddenly, his face started to disorient, it was changing into something, it was changing into his original face. 

And you saw it, you know him.

“Hi, I’m Barty Crouch” he introduced himself, removing the wooden leg and eye. You got your wand and pointed it to him. “What are you doing here?” you said with full confidence, you tried to not shake, you have to gain control in this situation. 

“Don’t worry, we’re on the same team” he pulled his sleeves up and you saw a dark mark, he then pointed to your dark mark that is now visible because of your torn sleeve. 

“D’you wanna see him? He’s like a malnourished pup” Barty laughed maniacally as he opened the trunk, it had many locks, many layers, and when he got to the seventh one he gestured to you to come over. You were still holding your wand, preparing offensive and defensive spells just in case, but your mind went blank when you saw what was lying in the last layer of the trunk.

You looked down into a pit-like, underground chamber, where the real Alastor Moody lay 10 feet below, sleeping, lean and starving in appearance. His wooden leg was missing, and chunks of hair were missing, the socket that should have housed the magical eye was empty.

“That’s Mad-Eye Moody” Barty whispered to you, your hand was shaking, you felt numb, you can’t move, you didn’t even realize that you forgot to breathe for a second. He was there, the real Moody, the person you should trust, not the impostor. 

But who should you trust? You’re a death eater, the others won’t trust you, only your fellow death eaters and the Dark Lord will.

“If you tell anyone,” Barty slowly gathered your hair and pulled it downwards, now you’re not looking down but rather up, your hair was being pulled by a guy, you panicked, and the adrenaline started to kick in. 

You locked his hand by holding it with both of yours, you stepped back, you went under his arm and up again, and started twisting it until he let go. 

It was just one of the defenses your father taught you, it always came in handy. He was still in pain by your twisting of his arm so you took that opportunity and kicked his back, his face fell on the floor and you locked his hands while you kneeled on his back.

“Why would I tell anyone? My family is important to me, unlike yours” you declared and put him to sleep with a sleeping charm. “I don’t have time to die” you whispered and stood up. Walking to the trunk you closed it, now seeing Mad-Eye Moody awake, and before you closed it, you catched a sight of his eye, looking at you. 

You glanced at the picture that was crumpled in your hand, 

It was Cedric, and the skull and serpent sign that the Dark Lord uses was drawn just enough to be noticed. You knew exactly what the message portrayed. 

Cedric’s life is also in line, just like your brother. 

And only one thing can be done to put a stop to this. 

You first looked at your target audience, Mad-Eye Moody or more like, Barty Crouch Jr. When you spotted him it was your cue to find your victim, but it's like luck was on your side, he was coming to you. 

You stood up and came face to face with him. He was red, not blushing, but because of anger, but there was also sadness in his eyes that made you want to back out, but you remembered. You want him out of any danger. So, you faced him, your head high and looking stoic.

“You cheated on me?” His voice was low but full of frustration, “yes” you announced and look at his friends who were behind him. 

“No” he shakes his head, trying to deny it. “Look at me in the eyes and say that.” he focused on your eyes and you almost broke down your character when you saw Barty gawking at the both of you, “Yes. I cheated on you. With my best friend.” your voice surprisingly didn’t break, but his heart obviously did. His face was full of pain, he was vulnerable, but after a second his face went dull similar to yours. 

Cedric turned his back on you and your heart completely shattered as you saw he was still wearing the bracelet you made and the matching rings you two had. That’s why he was looking at your ring finger earlier, the ring was not there anymore, you made it into a necklace, perfectly hidden because of your uniform.

“At least she’s honest about it” one of his friends says before looking at you, giving you a half smile and continuing to follow Cedric. 

“Y/N? What was that for? You said it wasn’t you, were you lying?” Angie tugged you down to your seat earlier. “I was lying-” you admitted, reaching to your bag, “but not to you” and you stood up and left her with lines forming between her eyebrows. 

If it is for the better. I’ll do it.

[manychocolatefactories]

CatCF Dark Chocolate: Part 1, the Kids

About this version:

This retelling was mostly inspired by the original book, as well as Dahl's first drafts for it. I wanted a more old-fashioned feeling to it: in this setting television is still only present in rich and upper-class houses, the regular people using newspaper and radios to get information. Imagine a mix of 40s and 50s with some touches of 60s thrown in.

You have here 8 Golden Tickets.

  First winner: Augustus Pottle

(Based on Augustus Gloop )

Augustus Pottle is an enormously fat boy, with a head like a ball of dough and a body like a blimp. He bears an uncanny ressemblance to a pig: he has a pink and greasy skin, numerous folds of flesh and chins bulging out of his neck, small greedy eyes, and an upturned and always sniffing nose looking like a snout. All the outfits he wears are always much too tight for him or about to pop (and it doesn't help that he literaly gains weight the minute he eats something). He has two outfits during the story (inspired by the two outfits Quentin Blake drew for him): during his interview he wears a green jacket, brown pants and a turquoise shirt ; and during the tour he wears beige pants, a blue jacket and a white shirt with pink spots. Of course he can never wear his jackets and his shirts are always about to rip.

Eating is not just Augustus hobby and obsession - it is also his career. Augustus is considered a "champion" because he kept winning eating contests: the biggest eater, the fastest eater, the fattest eater... It all comes down to his mother, a thick lady wearing a lot of shiny but ugly jewelery. Mrs. Gloop always tried to find fame and attention, but when her attempts to find it at radio failed, she reported all her dreams on his son: he had inherited from his tall and bearded father a large and stout body. People were amazed at how big and gluttonous the boy was, and Mrs. Gloop thought it was an excellent way to get attention and fame. So she bred him to become the fattest and most gluttonous boy alive, so that everyone would look at him (and at her). It goes so far that Augustus is used to sleep in the dining room - being so full after meals he can't even pass the door to get up to his bedroom.

The excess of greasy and sugary food made his brain fat too, clogging it with blubber, and resulting in him being quite simple-minded. He only now has two thoughts in his brain. The first is "eat, eat, eat", he is a true glutton obsessed with eating and devouring. The second is "I'm a champion, I'm the best, I need to beat everyone else", he sees others as rivals and life as a contest, and his own fatness and gluttony is for him a sign of dominance over other people.

Second winner: Elvira Salt

(Based on Veruca Salt)

I wanted here to get away from the angry, screaming, demanding Veruca Salt, so I create this character.

Just like Veruca, Elvira is a spoiled and filfthy rich girl who thinks she can get everything she wants with money or by asking. But she is not an angry, screaming, bratty child. She rather believes it is natural and normal for her to have everything, or for money to solve every problem. She seems detached from the world. She doesn't think or believe one would say "No" to her, and basically considers the entire world to be a shop with people at her service, or a field from which she can pick flowers without a care.

She looks like a glamorous movie star of old, like Marilyn Monroe, always wearing elegant silk dresses and gloves and wearing fur coats (with furs of lovely and cute animals like guinea pigs, mink, chinchilla or rabbits). In fact, Elvira enjoys only things that are cute, pleasant or elegant. For example give her the biggest pearl in the world - if said pearl is actually ugly she will throw it out without a care. She is a girl that bathes in milk and honey, that has for a snack expensive truffes, foie gras, chocolate and champaign, that doesn't walk but get carried around, and that considers it normal for a young girl to receive as gifts emeralds, rubies, diamonds and other precious jewels. To put it shortly, she lives an extravagant and excentric life.  Always smiling, always happy, always content, she basically lives in a world of luxury where misery, poverty or lack of money does not exist, and as a result actually forgets that other people around hers have needs and desires too. She thinks she is the princess of some sort of fairytales, and the others are just background characters here to serve her story.

For the tour, she wears a candy-pink velvet dress and a "fur" made of clubbed baby seals. As her father... well fun fact, Elvira sepnds so much money her father actually looks like a beggar or a homeless man, because he has no money left for himself - but a beggar with plump and thick wallets in his pockets.

  Third winner: Violet Beauregard

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

The Beauregard parents (who look so similar to each other it is difficult to say who is the father and who is the mother) are competition freaks. They are obsessed with their children being the best, breaking records, being a champion, earning trophies.

However, for their misery, they got Violet. Violet isn't good at sports, neither at school. She doesn't have any talent for anything. She doesn't have any interest or dreams. She is a plain, dull girl wearing plain and dull clothes, with dim eyes and a big mop of hair of an undetermined color. The only thing that stands out is her great, thick, muscular jaw - because her parents, desperate that they were, found a way for her to be a champion. Chewing gum. She spends her time chewing gum, so that would be her talent, isn't it? Her parents worked hard to make chewing a sportive and intellectual talent, making her break unexisting records of gum-chewing, organizing uninteresting chewing contests... They now think that their little girl deserves to be with Olympic champions just for chewing-gum, forgetting how useless and stupid this is.

They also extended her "abilities" to chewing other kind of foods and candies, including chewing chocolate bars: and here she found the Golden Ticket, which was a dream come true for the Beauregard parents, a perfect mediatic exposure! Fun fact: Violet chewed a bit of her Golden Ticket.

   Fourth winner(s): Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck

(Based on Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck)

I wanted to reuse the characters from the deleted "Fudge Mountain" chapter of the book. A lot of this characterization is my own invention: I based myself on the few personnality clues found in the chapter, and for their appearance I used Quentin Blake's illustrations.

Tommy and Wilbur are best friends in the world. They are neighbors, they go to school together, they always share everything (even though they may fight for it first) - this is why when they discovered the fourth Golden Ticket they shared it. However their friendship is filled with a strange sort of disdain, and they really bond over their main hobby: pranking people. They like to do pranks and jokes and to have a good laugh. Unfortunately for everyone else, they are devilish little brats and cruel children, whose definition of a good laugh involves making believe someone's house was robbed, putting someone's dress on fire or pretending their little brother is dead. The worst is hurts or distress people, the better it will be for them. Causing black outs, using dangerous chemical products, hurting their own parents, it is all just a good fun.

The Rice family are the definition of bourgeois and nouveau riche, small shop owners who became extremely wealthy thanks to their trade. As a result they are boasting their money and spending a lot of it: their small house became bloated with numerous architectural additions that don't fit with each other, and they collect cars, having so much they can't even drive them all. Mr. Rice is a tall and very thin man always dressed in expensive but ugly suits and with a thick mustache looking like a caterpillar, while Wilbur is a small dark-haired boy with a round face and a round belly, chubby and flabby. Wilbur is an arrogant, haughty, snobbish boy that is friend with Tommy only because he thinks of him as a sort of "pet" - he is so arrogant that he also disdains his own parents, but Mr. Rice merely thinks Wilbur is being a "good lad", an "energetic boy" or a "little man" and is quite proud of this unruliness.

The Troutbeck family is the opposite of the Rice. They used to be nobility, living in a great manor, but they fell on hard times. Their nobility title not worth anything, money flying by, their family fell into poverty. They still live in their manor, but it is now run-down, dirty and unkept. Mrs. Troutbeck is an obese woman always wearing faded pajamas or worn-out jumpsuits and a thick layer of makeup, and Tommy is a tall and thin boy, skinny, with an angular face covered in moles, beauty marks and freckles. He has spiky strawberry blond hair and always wears tattered ans stained clothes. The Rice parents are hoarding misers, skinflints who refuse to spend and disdain the "show-off" Rice (the same way the Rice disdain the poor and "low" Troutbeck), in fact they only had a kid so he could later work and make money for them, and they encourage him to steal rather than buy things. Tommy is also a rude, violent boy, known to punch and insult all those that displease him - something he inherited from his parents, that also raised him with insults and slaps on the head (no wonder he doesn't have any respect for them).

The two kids have another element cementing their friendship: their love for candies. Wilbur spends his time buying candies to stuff his belly, and Tommy keeps stealing candies from other children, messily devouring them. And it is during one of their sugary feasts that they found the Golden Ticket.

For the tour, Wilbur is wearing a light blue jacket with a red bow tie, and Tommy a navy-blue turtleneck.

   Fifth winner:Michael Themmen-Vry

(Based on Mike Teavee)

This name was a suggestion of ArtMakerProductions, who said I could invent a name whihc would have "T-V" initials. So I created Themmen-Vry, a name based on the names of the two actors who played Mike Teavee.

The Themmen-Vry family is exceedingly rich, grossly rich. But the Themmen-Vry parents are quite pleasant people: the father friendly and affable despite looking like a pigmy hippo, and the mother being an excellent hostess despite not being very bright and quite young. However their sson... it's a different story.

Michael is the oldest of the winners, being near the end of the his teenage years and almost a man. But he stayed stuck to the mental age of a child. Michael adores television, he has several elevision sets in every room of his manor to never miss his favorite shows. And Michael always liked to play, to disguise himself as his heroes. Couple that with very wealthy and very permissive parents, and you get this brat. Michael always plays at some game when he isn't watching television. He has an impressive array of costumes and toys to play with, and when he plays, he truly plays. He forces everyone to get into his roleplay and refer to him by his fictional identities. He forces other people into playing with him - he even kidnaps children from the nearby school to play with him. And he also wants realism to go so far... well let's say he won't be afraid to use a real gun to play a hunter. His parents are so permissive, seeing this as merely "harmless childish fun", that they allowed their manor to be burned down only because Michael wanted to play a firefighter.

No need to also mention you that Michael is a self-centered and disdainful brat that is always the hero of his stories and that uses "playing" as an excuse to bully and insult other people by having them be villains, monsters or preys. Basically he is the ultimate worst RPG player you can think of.

Tall and thin, Michael has long  and thick hair covering his ears and forehead like a helmet, and a face covered in acne. As for his outfits, they change all the time: one time he is dressed as a mad hunter, another time he is a monster-killing alien-king, another time he is a ninja-cowboy from the Far West, and that's when he is not a policeman-Robin Hood.

His outfit for the tour is a vividly colored cosmonaut outfit, and he is armed with a ray gun. Actually a laser gun using real, harmful lasers. He is also one of the few kids allowed to come to th tour without his parents, due to him being old enough.

     Sixth winner: Marvin Prune

(Based on Marvin Prune)

In the original drafts of Roald Dahl, Marvin Prune was a conceited school-obsessed boy that embodied the "all work and no play" mentality, disdaining all childish fun and freedom and rather dedicating himself to harsh studies and strict intellect. I decided to reuse this concept for a new interpretation:

Marvin Prune and his parents (his father, a man with a face like a boiled onio, and his mother, a woman who looks a lot like a donkey) are extremely arrogant and conceited so-called intellectuals. Marvin Prune thinks of himself as superior to everyone else and more intelligent than others because he read a lot of books, learned a lot of things and is an excellent school student. As a result, he thinks that he has all the rights to disdain others, insult them, treat them as complete idiots. But the thing is that Marvin actually has a very poor knowledge of the world and his "intellect" is up to discussion. He has numerous facts wrong - for exemple he thinks sugar comes naturally as a white powder and can't exist under any other forms, or he believes all the ancient Greek artworks were entirely white and that Greeks never used colors. If he gets so many of his facts wrong, it is because he believes simply learning about something is enough to be an expert - for exemple he claims to know all about foreign countries because he read about them in books, but he actually never visited them or met people from said countries.

This arrogance and this quest for "intellectuality" leads the Prunes to worship all that is "antique" "ancient" or "proper" - which results in them only collecting ancient furnitures, putting dust and cobwebs in their house to make it look more ancient, and Marvin wearing outdated outfits, like puff ties or jabots. He also likes to wear glasses, though he doesn't need them - he just thinks wearing glasses makes him look more intelligent. With narrow shoulders and chocolate-colored curls, the most defining trait of Marvin is his nose, which is really big, really long, really pointy and sharp, compared to a shark's fin. He always uses the royal plural "we" instead of "I" because he believes himself to be the most intelligent boy of the country or perhaps the world, and this bloated ego of him actually leads to a darker side of his personnality: he disdains all that is considered childish and worthless, up to the point of destruction. For exemple, he only reads encyclopedia, scientific books and teaching manuals. As for the rest - children book, novels, comic books... he deems them irrelevant and stupid and so wishes to burn all of them. Yep, we have a little book burner here.

Marvin only searched for a Golden Ticket because he wished to learn more about the Wonka Factory and know all of its secrets, as well as to be able to "correct" Wonka - because he is that kind of kid that considers everybody else is doing things wrong, and that he knows how to fix mistakes and improve everything. And he pretends that to find his Golden Ticket he used a lot of calculations, planning and studies, comparing the weather, selling patterns, geography, trafic levels... but in truth he actually got it by pure luck.

   Seventh winner: Bertie Upside

(Based on Bertie Upside)

Bertie Upside actually surprises everyone because he isn't a brat like the other kids. He is a wealthy and rich orphan, but he is kind, healthy, gentle, generous, cute, humble, decent giving money to charity and being very respectful and wise. He sees the best in people, and during the tour he prevents the other kids from breaking the rules or bullying Charlie, deeming him a true "bore". He is basically the perfect kid, that is repeatedly said to have a "heart of gold".

For his physical appearance I based him on Quentin Blake's illustration of Charlie: tall and thin, blond with blue eyes. He always has clothes that match his hair and eyes: light blue jacket and yellow tie for his interview, and golden jacket with light blue shirt for the tour.

   Eighth winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on Charlie Bucket)

This Charlie I based on the original drafts of Roald Dahl, which depicted Charlie as black.

As usual Charlie is a small malnourished boy, all skins and bones, living with his poor family in a shabby and run-down house. His father is a newspaper deliveryman, which is how the Bucket family has a newspaper every morning, and his mother works at a toothpaste factory (like in the 2005 movie). Their job doesn't bring much money, but it is enough to survive. As for the Grandparents you have Grandpa Georges (got his leg cut off after the war, and is always criticizing, insulting and being revolted by the other Golden Ticket winners), Grandma Georgina (can't walk due to the family being too poor to have her hip and knee fixed, she quells and calms her husband's wrath and fury), Grandma Josephine (has a weak heart and can't do a lot of physical activities, but has a wild an insane past, resulting in her often telling stories not suited for kids) and Grandpa Joe (bad arthritis, usually tempers or censors his wife's stories).

Charlie tries to help his family: he makes a bit of money by collecting glass bottles and metallic scraps. As for the food the Bucket family survives with, I wanted to include elements of the "soul food": as a result the daily diet of the Buckets is black-eyed peas, turnips and sweet potatoes. When they have enough money they buy a pork feet or a chicken liver to add meat to their diet, but it is quite rare. Charlie is a little angel of a kid, ever complaining, working hard at school and always sharing what he has with his family.

[seafleece]

Hey, random question, but what do you think are the M9's love languages?

oh, anon, you absolutely did not sign up for this and i am so sorry, but here we are. i had to look up the five types and keep them in the google doc to remind myself what they were, but uhh here’s almost 4000 words of character analysis and discussion of debatable quality

jester: 

my initial thought was quality time— an obvious and painful one, as it’s the one her mother wasn’t able to provide. i think the sleeper, though, for jester, is acts of service. 

with beau, this especially shows up in reference to healing— jester having a more healing-focused cleric around is a big relief, especially for someone so close to warlock status that she almost was one, but very notably, she very much wants to heal beau. she specifically apologizes for not doing so in the chantry, and attributes that to beau’s absence rather than anything else; more generally, there’s a huge amount of distress on jester’s part when beau is hurt, and that she wants to be the one to heal beau (notably, with the gorgon, she RAN to beau, was immediately upset both times beau started getting petrified, and even dissuaded caduceus or caleb from using their turn to heal beau so she could instead, making sure to be Right There even while nott was applying the oil). she also seems to really value the instances when beau does things for her, especially since there are specific acts that beau reserves for jester (engaging with religion in any capacity, wearing a dress for jester and more broadly allowing jester to pick her clothes, a concept which beau probably has an explicitly negative association with from her mother).

it’s also muddled jester up the worst when it comes to relationships she understands less— the “kiss” with fjord in the temple that was a vehicle for giving jester air, most specifically, comes to mind— and she’s really come to terms with this by realizing that romantic feelings weren’t really what he was expressing, and that it wasn’t necessarily what she was feeling, either. it’s noticeable in how she describes her relationship with the traveler— she feels like her service to him is doing little things for him, and asks, when she’s unsure, when the traveler failed to act on her behalf when they were kidnapped, if she did something wrong to make him angry, and literally desecrates a temple to make up for it as soon as they’re back in town.

and the thing is, quality time isn’t really what was lacking in her relationship with marion— marion probably did have time to spend with jester for at least a little while every day. the problem is that marion simply couldn’t provide jester with things that she needed: access to the outside world and companionship. she had to learn from near-scratch how to navigate relationships of varying intensities, and it shows with her initial zeroing in on fjord as an iteration of the dashing sailor her momma told her about, as well as her more slow-burn come to trust and really invest in and love beau, because she’s never had a relationship like that with a girl, and maybe didn’t even know it was something she could have, or something she could want.

jester’s her proudest when she’s doing things for other people, even if they maybe wouldn’t love her doing it if they knew— threatening beau’s dad because she hates that he hurt her, hearing that beau was thinking about leaving and marching in to modify memory a hag, writing astrid a letter because caleb seems like he liked her, asking essek if he likes caleb because caleb seems to like essek, painting yasha’s room in the xhorhaus, finding outfits for everyone. she struggles with how to rein in showing it and thinking first about the potential consequences, and is unsure how to navigate what it means when she’s shown it in return, but it’s messy and heartfelt and sincere. with her mom, she really clearly appreciates when her mom does do things for her— providing a home for her friend’s family, allowing the m9 to stay in the chateau, coming to the party with them despite her agoraphobia. i’m sort of banking on a scene where jester talks to her about it, apologizes for leaving, and reaffirms that it means a lot to her that marion is stepping out of her comfort zone for her.

beau: 

words of affirmation. this is NO DOUBT something her parents didn’t give her, maybe ever. this is baked into her relationship with them— she knew that her father wanted a boy, he probably Told her this, and she wasn’t one. it’s something she could literally never be, an aspect she would be forever resented for, that would tinge everything her father ever said to her. her mother also probably didn’t give her much if any affirmation, as she was trying to police and fix beau’s behavior to avoid thoreau’s anger for both of them, and never properly elaborated to beau that her intention was to keep beau from being punished (not that it would have made it okay, for the record). it’s also why her conversation with her parents in 92 immediately threw her off, because for once they actually told her she’d impressed them, that she’d done good, and it’s rough as hell to see that. 

unfortunately, it’s also the thing she’s least likely to get from everyone else unless she’s at her worst, because almost everyone else, including fanon, seems to have profoundly absorbed this idea that beau is rude and abrasive and sarcastic and she’s just. not. she might have been at the start, but she’s always been especially soft with jester, she and caleb are very mutually assured about the sort of affection they show each other, she’s always been either openly flirting with or just sort of tenderly awkward with and trying around yasha, she and caduceus have a fun and pretty peaceful dynamic i always love to see, and we know caduceus, for at least a while, considered beau his favorite. 

then, there’s the characters she’s known for butting heads with the most: fjord, with whom she’s developing a sibling dynamic to rival hers with caleb and really obviously is ride or die for; nott, who used to openly insult beau and just about everyone else, and who is now 1/3 of the chaos crew beau is also in; and molly, whose death was a HUGE turning point for beau in terms of a) taking stock of her morals and how she intended to act on them and b) expressing love for someone so you know they know it, before it’s too late. 

jester seems to see this the most, no surprise there, and dairon also sees a lot of potential in beau not because she’s strong or fast (she’s from a martially focused monastery), but because she’s smart. dairon talks about and to beau very affectionately compared to other mentor/guardian figures she’s had, and i think it means a lot to her coming from both jester and dairon. she certainly returns the favor for both of them.

fjord: 

this one isn’t immediately apparent, so i’m gonna start by talking about the nature of his relationship with caduceus (and see where it gets me). 

okay, i lied, i’m starting with molly.

fjord and molly had a thing. it’s clear in retrospect, and i’ve talked about it, but i think it has to do with where fjord was in his quest to reinvent himself. molly was someone who, for all intents and purposes, had flawlessly become a new person— not necessarily because of a concerted effort to change who lucien was, but a different person nonetheless. fjord wanted desperately to believe that that was attainable for him, and thus saw a lot in investing in molly. molly was a silent affirmation that fjord could really pull this off, could really reinvent himself and be fine.

also, molly was hot. enough said.

caduceus, on the other hand, offered something different. caduceus came along right before fjord’s willingness to help uk’otoa was first tested— fjord rose to the occasion, but the whole time there was someone new along, someone whose faith in his deity seemed assured. assured, that’s something fjord never had.

afterward, he got to see what it meant to believe in a god like that, and he started to want in. caduceus seems like a very honest person— though really, it’s just because m9 doesn’t know the right questions to ask him— and his god is the god of the sea, too, right? fjord really lost a rock in molly the way i don’t think a lot of people realize, and it’s why his swallowing the summer’s dance felt so meaningful. he was keeping a part of molly with him, and i wonder if he misses that part of his falchion. after he lost his inspiration for recreation, he started to put stock into authenticity as the answer, and caduceus as the vehicle. and the wildmother was very accepting, too, took him in like a lost sheep.

where fjord is now, i think he values the covenant (which i realize i actually define later, so if i forget to reorganize these before i post, then oops) in a similar way to caleb. more specifically, though, he decidedly the word owe in talking to beau about the group’s relationship, which, among other things, speaks to acts of service. fjord has work to do to earn his place as a paladin of the wildmother (and a good amount of work to do indeed, if getting trounced by darrow was any indication), and he feels the need to repay caduceus for his help, companionship, and guidance. fjord also gets hurt and KO’d. a lot. i think he takes it on the chin as his role in the group— that’s his job, and he has faith in caduceus and jester to keep him up. they’re not done yet, they haven’t finished serving one another, so beau leaving is of considerable offense (near-mutinous, to be specific).

caleb: 

words MEAN SHIT to caleb, you can tell in the way he talks. everyone remembers the times he’s told nott he loves her, he responds best to beau because i think he really loves the way she talks, he shows his feelings in really passionate speeches to nott, to beauregard, and most recently to essek. there’s absolutely a reason why so many goddamn quotes from campaign 2 are attributed to this dude, and it’s because he monologues like a fucking champ. their group is named after his accent. 

as for receiving love, though, i think it’s a little different. we know from talks that he’s placed a lot of value on the things jester has done for him, and moreover to be herself as someone who gives recklessly, but as far as we know he doesn’t intend to do anything with it. with nott, i’m tempted to create a new category that’s something like a covenant? he and nott agreed to travel together and help each other under the worst conditions, and they’ve stuck to this fastidiously. this covenant, this commitment to the group, is something he extends to everyone— he is not willing to walk away from this, and hasn’t been for a long time, he believes in all of them, truly, what they can do— and cherishes the fact that everyone has kept this, except for two very specific moments. beau, when she introduced the threat of her leaving the party, and yasha, when she was taken over by obann. for beau, he actually seemed fairly quiet compared to fjord, and i’m not sure yet on why this is, other that i think he trusted fjord and jester to talk her down. as for yasha, he seems to be really invested in commiserating with yasha as two haunted ones (literally), and sees her as someone who also really values the group but sees her ability to belong as tarnished by what she’s done. 

for the purposes of this, i’m gonna refer to it as that, as a covenant (yes i’m a failed church kid, what of it) and as separate from acts of service, because it’s more akin to the promise of one major, permanent act of service to each other. i wonder if it’s this steadfastness in that idea that partially led caduceus to continue and develop the idea of his role, because caleb and the rest of team cockroach, as i call them, were gonna keep that covenant if it killed them, and caduceus could keep them from getting killed, at the very least, if he entered into it.

but anyway, that covenant now extends to essek, if he decides to take it. and if he does, that will mean something infinite to caleb, i think. 

caduceus: acts of service.

okay. i wanna talk about caduceus and danger.

caduceus doesn’t heal himself. we know this. he heals everyone else, and not himself. 

i’ve been checking critrole stats on this, and if i’m reading correctly, he has taken the most damage (157) in one episode than anyone else. and it’s not a small margin. the closest is yasha (129) and i’m almost certain that’s from the episode where she decided to literally get attacked until she passed out. i was trying to guess which episode this was from, and then it hit me: probably the episode where he fucking died, right? because it really just never came up again.

caduceus has: started to drown at least 3 times in his first month on the job, been killed by nott, been beaten near to death when yasha was charmed, and been very quietly and very badly stabbed in the back by a disappearing assassin. he’s also died at home, as a family tradition.

there’s a million better meta posts about caduceus’s relationship with death, or even about him not healing himself, but I just want to set it as potential precedent for the idea that caduceus, to some degree, sees value in himself as someone who doesn’t mind dying in a fight. for one thing, it’s been a temporary thing almost from day one with m9, as jester immediately invested in diamonds when they got back to town. it’s not his first rodeo, either, and his family has normalized death to an, and i say this more because of how it’s affected him rather than because i dislike the idea of normalizing death, an upsetting degree.

giving healing, that’s his job, but eliminating himself as someone who needs help or healing, well, that’s healing in a way, too, right? if he doesn’t get healed, it’s more for everyone else. worst comes to worst, jester can heal him if need be. or, y’know. not heal him.

caduceus’s relationship with m9 has noticeable transaction rhetoric, and i wonder where that really fits in with his family. obviously, his role in the family was implied as the one who stayed behind, and his parents definitely imparted a need for him to be stable, a role he’s continued to fill for m9 to his quiet detriment but i think he’s also jumped on the opportunity to finally be the older one, the wiser one, of the group. there’s a power caduceus has over the group that’s really understated— they just sort of listen to him, even if what he’s saying doesn’t actually make sense, because he started with nott, beau, and caleb as a wise savior, a protector, and upon finding the others, it’s not like jester, fjord, or yasha were filling that role. molly certainly wasn’t either— it’s funny, how in retrospect caduceus seems inevitable to the group because they really didn’t have anyone like him. the closest thing to a voice of reason they had was fjord and caleb, and early on, caleb was not in great standing because of his and nott’s perceived standoffishness, and fjord threw up ocean water, so like, what’s up with that, right?

at the very least, he definitely believes he owes the mighty nein something, a role to fill, a job to perform. a service to act out, if you will. his job is to heal, and he does less healing if he heals himself. he seems to view him taking a hit as a win, in a way— it’s a hit that someone else doesn’t take.

i have a lot of hope that reconnecting with his family and seeing how he’s grown while they haven’t allows him to revisit his notions of what he needs to be, and i have a lot of hope that moving forward, he’ll be able to invest more in the other motif he’s developed, which is gift-giving: fjord, with the star razor; his sisters, with the hat (which seems small but like. boy’s had it for a while) and the flute; and, most recently, in helping jester pick out everyone’s outfits. it allows him to feel like he’s giving something to the people he cares about without it hurting him.

yasha: 

truly everything. it’s hard to get a read because yasha really just soaks in all the love m9 wants to give her. if i had to guess further, i’d say we should look at her and molly’s relationship, because molly’s the only character we’ve seen her unabashedly love, and the thing that stood out most to me was physical touch. that echoes really depressingly with her “fight” in 89— she got something out of being that close to someone, even if it felt like reparation or atonement, and i think the only person in m9 who’s been really unafraid to touch yasha is jester.

i’ll admit i have a soft spot for yashter, but, like, it’s there, right? the obvious trust, the faith jester has in yasha and the fear and turmoil when that was tested? i remember really clearly jester giving yasha a piggyback ride in zadash in an early ep, and like— when’s the last time someone was strong enough to do that? when’s the last time someone wanted to do that for yasha? everyone’s mistrusted yasha to some degree for the entire run of the campaign, and, like, how much did her hopes to get close to everyone else just evaporate after the king’s cage? does she really even believe she can have it again? she was so close— jester trusted her fully, she and beau were in a comfortable mutual place with flirting, she’d talked to caduceus and jester about zuala, she even felt comfortable picking up nott and throwing her around (which, by the way, i love their dynamic).

she seems to have leaned more into the protective, threatening stance since they got her back, which, if she’s comfortable with it, is just fine— maybe she’s shifting more towards acts of service, but i just hope it isn’t her just accepting the idea that everyone will always be afraid of her, that she won’t be close like that again. because molly wasn’t afraid of her. jester wasn’t, and i don’t think she is, now— but fjord showed a lot of distrust, and i think yasha’s scared of the degree to which she hurt beau and how to even broach that discussion, and she attacked them, how could they ever forgive her or trust she wouldn’t do it again? 

(i wish i had a happier end to this, so i’ll just say that she did seem comfortable last ep, and that she may or may not have interest in getting a tattoo from jester? interesting stuff.)

veth: 

on a person to person level, veth definitely feels she and caleb are acting on the promise they’ve made to help each other— now she’s reached it, things are a bit more nebulous, but it’s obvious she wants to stick around for him. i’ll admit, her words to everyone in 97 were a bit surprising to me— she hasn’t really been good at conveying emotion like that before unless she’s desperate or really upset, and i imagine it was something she started planning in her head to say to everyone as soon as the first ritual didn’t work. that might be, i think, what she felt as relief, just not being able to articulate what she wanted to say to everyone.

as for her family, veth believes she owes her best self to yeza and luc— she kept herself from them not because she couldn’t have gone back, but because she felt like someone else, like someone worse, and the exaggerated tendencies from her previous life only reinforced this— she didn’t believe she deserved to be around them, before now. before caleb, i don’t know if she had any hope for returning to them at all, and he changed that entirely.

i’m also very interested in why veth is able to reconcile her marriage with yeza as veth with her loving caleb as nott, and if she sort of considers herself as two different people. we’ve seen so little of what she feels comfortable expecting from other people— for now, i’d say acts of service seems appropriate? but maybe something closer to just. fulfilling promises.

bonus: for the other two who are considered part of the mighty nein

kiri: 

words of affirmation. i’m a HUGE kenku stan, anyone who’s played d&d with me knows this, and i’m especially fascinated with the relationship with words when you can only speak the words you hear/remember. on the most basic level, if you speak to kiri, you are giving her a gift, you’re giving her the ability to speak, too. and if those words are affirming, then she can say them back! and you’re giving them to her, in a sense, to use as she pleases and repeat them to herself, even, and i just love that image— her, to herself, saying “i love you” in other people’s voices. i’m ride or die for kenkus, and kiri started it.

essek: 

okay, so almost everyone in the m9 could be read as needing words of affirmation, because it’s so clear that they need more love and knowledge of love than they’ve received, and have found it in each other. essek has quite literally found it in m9 for the first time. he absolutely needs all of these, like, ASAP, but i think it’s what everyone says to him that get him the most. caleb’s speech, obviously, but it’s also them casually referring to him as their friend, it’s jester’s messages, even if he’s busy. it’s important to say, though, that i think it’s a specific type of affirmation: things that have nothing to do with his magic ability (and moreover, any of these gifts that have nothing to do with it). essek’s built his entire life on the idea that he is someone incredibly powerful and smart for his age— m9 are probably the first people to make him feel like he was more than that, because they want to know about the rest of him, and in becoming friends with them, he’s confronting the fact that he doesn’t really believe there is a rest of him. they want to know a part of himself that he at best has neglected and has been neglected by others, and at worst that he believes does not exist. when they talk about him as a friend, it adds to who he can be. he’s seeing, for the first time, that he can exist as someone else than his abilities and his ambition.

i initially started off with words of affirmation and he clearly needs that, but i think he really just needs all of these in a very specific way: he needs to feel love that is not based in merit, that pertains to who he actually is in this life rather than what he can become in the next, that values the life he’s living right now, because he’s not getting that from the dynasty. it seems like a low bar, maybe, to people who only have the one life, as far as we know, but his arc this campaign shows that it really, really isn’t.

[athenaquinn]

Chosen || Shiloh & Athena

TIMING: Just before Christmas (December 2020) LOCATION: Shiloh’s home PARTIES: @evanescentform and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: More questions get answered. Alternatively, *eyes emoji*. CONTENT: mentions of parental death, mentions of past abuse, brief internalized homophobia

Shiloh had recalled once upon a time she had agreed to do some baking with Athena - that agreement itself felt like years ago. While she really hardly had the energy for it, she knew she shouldn’t reject an offer to do something considering most of her day was spent asleep. If she was going to get out of this slump, she had to do things like this. Baking was fun right? She remembered how much fun it was and while her most recent attempt didn’t turn out so great, this time she was going to do it with a friend. What could go wrong? Thankfully, Athena gave her some time to clean up and have her place not look like a mess. Shiloh was hardly one to keep a mess so the fact that she had clothes lying about and unwashed dishes here and there was frankly, very embarrassing. So once the place looked more or less clean, she went into the shower and managed to get ready just in time to hear a knock at her door. The knock caused Jiji to run up the stairs and Shiloh couldn’t help but smile at her shy cat as she heard his bell jingle up the stairs. Opening, her smile widened to greet Athena. “Hey, it’s good to see you. Come in,” she gestured for her to step inside out of the cold.

She was still curious about Shiloh after all these months. After the carnival she hadn’t been left with any solid answers and Athena hated that. Hated not knowing things. Shiloh had all but completely disappeared for the past couple of months - and so when she’d heard that Shiloh was back in town, she had quickly reached out - because they’d never gotten around to baking before Shiloh had gone away, and it was as good an excuse as any to get to talk to her again, to get to know her better. To see if she could find any sort of way to answer the questions she still had. She’d brought over a few cookbooks in her tote bag, but otherwise was dressed as normally as possible - wearing a fleece jacket, her fingers fiddling with her ring before she paused and knocked on the door, standing up taller as Shiloh opened the door. She was just slightly taller than Athena, though not so much so that it was too much. “Hey.” She grinned. “I appreciate it,” she moved inside, pulling off her fleece. “I’m glad we’re finally getting to do this!”

A bit of a nervousness washed over Shiloh but it wasn’t strong so it was simple to ignore with a smile. She hadn’t spent time with Athena since the carnival and she was interested in getting to know a potential friend better. It was also nice to spend time with another person because she was becoming a shut in. It didn’t help that last she went out, her nerves - or her “hunter senses” as her cousin explained - felt like she was surrounded. “Yeah, me too. What do we have in store for us today?” Baking made Shiloh feel better. That much was a fact. Sure it was some hard work but the end product was delicious and stuffing her face with sweets seemed like a great way to spend the rest of the day. “I went grocery shopping the other day so my pantry is full of probably anything we could need. All purpose flour, cake flour, spices, sugar….” Shiloh would list it all but Athena got the hint. If anything maybe Shiloh didn’t have food coloring but she didn’t tend to use that anyway when she baked.

“I mean, I’m down for anything.” The nervous energies that seemed to be increasingly present in her life didn’t help that one bit. It didn’t help that something had been feeling a bit off lately, though Athena pushed it aside as excess nerves - from Lydia to Amanda to everything still with her parents, and everything normal on top of that, it was almost too overwhelming, but baking helped with that and she liked Shiloh’s company. Which made her hope and pray that she wasn’t supernatural. “I’m real good with cookies and things like that, but I think we’d talked about maple scones, so if you’d like that we just need maple syrup or something in that vein, so if you have that, awesome! If not, we can do whatever your favorite recipe is.”

“Maple scones sound delicious. I actually have maple syrup.” Shiloh walked over to her cupboard. “I bought it a few days ago cause I wanted to make some gingerbread and maple cookies.” She chuckled at what she would say next. “Haven’t gotten around to gingerbread though.” Grabbing the jar she set it on her island for Athena to inspect and make sure it was what she needed for maple scones. “Maybe we can work on them later if I don’t scare you away with my baking skills.” Not to say Shiloh was unconfident in her capabilities, it’s just that no two people cooked similarly in her mind. Maybe Athena was a mess in the kitchen or maybe Shiloh was the messy one in her eyes. Shiloh didn’t think she made too much of a mess when she baked, but she’d be lying if she said that was one of her priorities when it came to baking. As long as it tasted good, the mess it left was worth it.

“Good. Maple scones it is then.” That was easy, but scones always required a certain level of precision, and that was something that Athena appreciated. Maybe it would mean that they would have some time to talk - though she wasn’t exactly sure how much more she could question Shiloh, or how responsive the woman would be to more poking and prodding. “I don’t think you’ll scare me away with your baking skills. I’m not so easily scared.” She winked. Glancing over to the fridge, she couldn’t help but notice a small rainbow flag stuck on with a magnet. That much pulled at her curiosity, but she certainly wasn’t about to ask anything, at least not yet. She hardly used the word bisexual herself yet, even though she knew that was what she was - or that was what it seemed to be. “Gingerbread is good.” Her mother had been big on that. “I’m just relieved you’ll get to try maple scones. It’s a rite of passage.” She smiled, “I mean, not really, but they are a great sort of scone, at least I think so.”

Shiloh knew how to make scones - what kind of English girl would she be if she didn’t know how to make that! She began to grab all the things needed like flour and sugar and bowls and measuring cups. She laid it out on the counter for Athena to inspect. “Do you use anything like cinnamon or vanilla extract in your maple scones?” Shiloh asked as she looked through the cupboards for exactly those ingredients just in case. You never know what might be in one’s recipe won’t be in another’s for the same thing. Shiloh chuckled at Athena’s comment, however. “How are they a rite of passage? Is it something your family makes for the holidays?” That got Shiloh into thinking about some family traditions she had come into contact with. “You know I had an ex girlfriend whose family baked fritters - they have a name I just can’t remember it now - but they were really good and easy to make. I remember I went to their place for the holidays and I impressed them with my skills.” She snorted as she said that last part, surprised she could even recall such a positive memory even if things had long ended with that specific ex.

“We could use a bit of vanilla, why not?” Athena shrugged. She knew that some of the recipes did call for that, and it added a bit of excitement to the whole thing - besides, maple and vanilla were two flavors that blended together well, and she could be completely willing to compromise especially if it meant she’d talk to Shiloh more, possibly be able to figure out if anything was up or if whatever hunch she had was too far-fetched. Which was possible - she did know that she sometimes was quick to judge, and nothing about Shiloh set off her senses, but there was something in the way that the two of them had talked and the way that Shiloh held herself once they’d actually met that made Athena wonder if there was something more. “Oh, just living in Maine is all. My mom makes gingerbread.” Made. “Sorry, made. She - anyhow, no, I just like maple scones and I like to encourage that love on others, too.” At the mention of an ex-girlfriend, Athena’s gaze shifted over to the rainbow flag again. “Oh yeah? That sounds cool! Maybe you’ll have to teach me how to make those sometime. If we do this again, that is, I mean.”

“Oh, are Maine and maple syrup a pair?” Shiloh asked, bringing her index fingers on both hands together as she spoke. She wondered if other American states had a food pairing as well. Her thoughts were interrupted when she caught Athena correcting herself. Shiloh didn’t know what to say. She had experienced a loss herself but that was nothing compared to the loss of a mother. She only knew her cousin for a few months, this was Athena’s mother. Oh boy. “Tell you what, after we do these maple scones today, next time,” Shiloh reassured, “we can do gingerbread in honor of your mother. How does that sound? After that I can show you the fritters. When I remember what they’re called.” Shiloh hoped that would turn the mood around even though Athena seemed to be holding it very well - Shiloh would argue better than she had. But people mourned in different ways. “See - now we have two baking plans in the future!”

“I mean, sort of. Blueberries even more so, but maple syrup is big up here.” Athena watched Shiloh carefully. Maybe she shouldn’t have corrected herself on the mother thing, but her mother had been big in town, and there had been a news article about her, and it didn’t take a lot for Shiloh to find that out. So really, it was on Athena for her phrasing. Except she was now being offered sympathy and she didn’t know how to hold onto that when she wasn’t supposed to be sad for her parents, no matter how much she still put on a face of that. No matter how much she could still hear her parents’ voices sometimes or feel her mother braiding her hair. “No, it’s really fine!” She grabbed one of the bowls for a moment, before setting it back down on the counter. “I’d much rather have the fritters. Those sound new and I’m down to try new things.” She giggled. “But for now, we’ve got to get you to like maple scones.” She looked back over to the fridge. “I, uh, that flag is nice! Have you had it for a while?” She winced at her own awkwardness - she was supposed to know what to say, it was her brother’s job to trip over his words. “Regardless, we should get started. After all, this plan has been in the works for a few months now.”

Blueberries and maple, huh, good to know. Shiloh was taken off guard by how Athena didn’t seem interested in making gingerbread in honor of her dead mother but, like she was well aware, people grieve in different ways. Shiloh was probably pushing her to do something she wasn’t ready for. She was thankful Athena could set her boundaries and decline the offer. “Fritters it is then.” Shiloh let out a small chuckle, hoping to ease her own nerves with that laugh. “I mean, if you want to just make it a two-time thing, I understand.” Shiloh teased with a shrug, trying to make it seem like she was genuinely upset over being unable to bake for a third time with Athena however, Shiloh couldn’t keep her smile contained, giving herself away. At the mention of a flag, Shiloh was confused before turning around to look at her fridge. Her eyes darted from the fridge to Athena with a widening smirk. “Uh, thanks I got it at last year’s pride.” Shiloh said as she started to scoop some flour with a measuring cup. “Hey, I don’t know about you but I think I can multitask being gay and baking.” Shiloh teased.

Neither she nor her brother had ever really been taught how to fully process grief, that much she knew. Athena sighed. “It’s - well, I appreciate you offering, but I think sometimes it’s best to move past things.” Better than yeah, I don’t want to honor my mother because she and my father hurt me and my brother for years and were manipulative and dealing with the fact that I killed them is still really complicated. “Oh, no.” She let her hands fly up to cover her face. “Not what I meant.” She really was tripping over her words in ways that she hadn’t really experienced much at all before today. “That makes sense! Did you go with anyone, or just to see it all?” She couldn’t help but laugh at Shiloh’s next remark. “Yeah, well, I’ve always been good at multitasking.” She took in a deep breath, because she’d used the words around Ariana and her brother, and even, finally, some of her friends, but Shiloh was still someone new. “So being bisexual and multitasking should be just fine.”

“I understand.” Shiloh completely respected whichever way Athena wanted to grieve. After all, it was her own loss. Shiloh was still trying to figure out how to honor her deceased relative. As well as the seemingly loss of her family’s entire bloodline. Prior to her discovery, she was fine honoring her parents just by living the happy life they would have wanted for her but now she was wondering if they would have wanted another life for her and she couldn’t help but feel she was disappointing them in some way. At the very same time she wasn’t sure she could stomach killing living beings, be them supernatural or not. “I did, I went with a girl I was seeing at the time and a few friends.” Shiloh answered with a nod realizing that Athena nerves might be for a reason other than that Shiloh was still a relatively strange person to her. Athena was gay as well and given how much it took for her to say that, Shiloh was betting on her own discovery being a new one. It was cute and Shiloh was happy to see it. “If anyone is good at multitasking, I’d give it to the bi’s.” Shiloh joked hoping it might calm Athena’s nerves a bit.

“Good.” Athena nodded. Shiloh might have been one of the most confusing people that she’d met, but at least she seemed to take almost anything that Athena threw at her in stride. She only hoped that she wasn’t secretly some sort of supernatural creature, because she did like spending time with her, and Athena wasn’t sure if she could handle being close with too many supernatural beings. “That sounds nice!” Was she trying too hard? She hoped that she didn’t come off that way, because being seen as over-eager only got one so far. “Good one.” She raised an eyebrow. “No wonder I’ve always been good at it.” It was okay to joke about something like that, right? No matter how much she was okay with accepting it, there was a certain part of her that felt like she was wrong for what she was, like this made her less of a golden child (though being less golden in her parents’ eyes might have not been so bad, given everything). “I mean, I’ve been cooking in some capacity since I was basically in preschool, though back then it was a lot more just cracking eggs and dumping the ingredients into a bowl. At least now I’m allowed to use the stove.” She winked at Shiloh. “I think my parents had me bake because it got me to chill out - sometimes I had a hard time concentrating as a kid, though at home was always better.” Of course, any of her concentration issues had always been due to anything supernatural around her, but being given things to concentrate on or think about that weren’t that certainly hadn't hurt.

Shiloh chuckled, resting easy that the nerves were all gone from both of them. Maybe. It was better to keep things light. No talking about dead relatives. Shiloh needed this, some normal, easy time where the most nerve wracking thing was telling someone you were gay. Shiloh understood the fear that came with it. You never knew how someone would react. Thankfully Shiloh had been blessed with a pair of incredibly supportive parents. Not everyone was so lucky. “Oh really? So better than sit you in front of a tv they just put you in the kitchen?” Shiloh asked with a smile wondering if that may have been a gender thing too… but she would rather believe her parents were good people than not. The last thing she needed was to bring up a dead parent’s bad side. “You know I was always an active kid growing up. I could never sit still. My parents put me in sports and ever since I did that my restless energy was just sapped. They couldn’t take a little kid just running around the house, I guess. Sent me outside.” She joked about her parent’s intentions although she recalled her cousin saying things about hyperactivity and being a hunter. It made the fact that she had been feeling drained even more worrisome. Before she would hardly ever stay in bed past 7am. Now she was getting close to sleeping in until the early evening and late afternoon.

Athena fiddled with her necklace this time, her fingertips twisting the small golden cross around and around. “In fairness, I like baking more than I like TV anyhow. Besides, it lets me have more control over how things turn out than watching a show does. You can’t decide what happens for that, but you can when it comes to baking.” She gave a small, half-shrug, dropping her hands from her necklace. It was true - she knew that even as a child, she’d needed to have some sort of control over everything around her - which was part of why everything that was going on now, while not incredibly large in the grand scheme of things, unnerved her so much. “I’ve done soccer practically since I could walk and then I started track in middle school and I did field hockey in high school, so I get you.” Her face scrunched up. It was reading too much into it, it had to be. “I’m lucky that my parents knew how to handle me, and also that they told my teachers that my concentration issues were due to me having a higher understanding of the material - which meant sometimes I could go to the gym if I finished my work early back in elementary school. Which meant a lot of trips there, because I finished my work early a lot.” She made her way over to the sink, giving her hands another quick rinse off.

Shiloh tilted her head as Athena went into detail about her childhood. It was interesting. The need for control, the fact that whenever she’d finish her work she’d go to the gym. “It sounds like you must’ve made your parents very proud.” While it was a little strange Athena did seem someone who was successful even in her youth. “I did horrible in school.” Shiloh added with a smile, knowing it was a complete opposite to what Athena’s experience was but her family never placed their affections on how well she did in school just that she was a good person. That’s what was important. “I suppose it was some sort of anxiety, which I received medication for it later in life but I just couldn’t focus. Every little thing, a sound, a smell, it was too distracting for me to pay attention. I used to get the worst migraines over it.” Shiloh’s brows furrowed as she recalled the difficulties she had growing up. Her parents were always supportive of their daughter but it didn’t mean they had all the answers. “It got better when I joined sports. Which is around the time I started to take medication and things were easier to just… turn off. Like I didn’t have to listen to every sound in the world - I can focus on what I needed to.” Shiloh ended it with a shrug. “Plus girls proved to be something I found my attention easily centered on, so.”

“Well, they did say I was their golden child!” Athena shrugged, her hair falling over her shoulders. “Sorry, too much enthusiasm.” Maybe, in another life, she would have been that way - over-enthusiastic in the most genuine of ways. Not falsely put on - though she could be enthusiastic about certain topics, so much of it was to keep up her family’s image - and sometimes she found that she still didn’t really know where her parents’ image for her stopped and whoever she - Athena Joan Quinn - was began. But that was far too much to think about in the middle of baking and accidentally coming out to someone all in one. “Everyone’s different, I guess?” She shrugged, though her lips did purse to the side at the mention of focus - of smell - and she knew that Shiloh wasn’t a werewolf and though Athena was aware of other species who had heightened senses but she also knew that she did - her whole family did, and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “This is gonna sound, like, super weird,” but I don’t care, “did your lack of focus ever pick up more around certain people - I mean, like - other than thinking about other girls. I - well, I think I did that too. Maybe. Not that,” she felt her cheeks flush, “I mean, not my point - did you ever feel restless or like your skin was crawling?” Was this too much to ask? Probably, but now that she was out with it, she wasn’t about to dial it back. She didn’t do that - much like she didn’t apologize, though at least that had started to change - just slightly - but backing down from something seemed useless, and if she had messed something up with all of this - well, then she could simply never talk to Shiloh again.

Shiloh had to stop what she was doing and listen because from what she was saying it felt… relatable. “Restless like you can’t relax?” Shiloh tried to think about it when she was growing up and she recalled feeling it once when her parents and her went hiking and she woke up in the middle of the night in the tent and started bawling her eyes out and wanted to go home. But that was it. She didn’t feel it again until… she moved here. She looked up at Athena and met her eyes - that probably said it all. “I haven’t really not been restless since I moved here. I thought it was just my medication…” She trailed out as she inhaled deeply. “But it was something else.” Did Athena know what it was? Did she seem like a complete idiot and Athena had no clue what she was talking about? She could only wait and see how she responded to all this and in that moment Shiloh didn’t know how to feel.

“Sort of, yes.” Athena nodded. If they were getting somewhere, she didn’t want to back away from it now. She didn’t especially want to think of all the times when she’d been little and even though she’d know what she was for as long as she could remember, being surrounded by the feeling of wanting to crawl out of her own skin when she was just trying to concentrate on schoolwork had never been something fun. Even if it was for a better purpose, in the long run. “It’s probably not your medication.” She remembered - from ages ago - Shiloh mentioning that she was adopted, which could explain the lack of knowledge on many fronts. “Sometimes, even after living here my whole life, I still feel extra restless.” Especially lately. “It wasn’t your medication.” She reaffirmed, repeating herself. “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, straight up. “Do you know what it was?” Baking briefly forgotten, she shifted to look up at Shiloh. “I - well, based on all you’re saying, I might have an idea, but you can trust me. You can tell me.”

Shiloh chewed on the inside of her lip. She hadn’t told anyone this yet and the fact was she wanted to tell someone so bad. Shiloh never really had problems trusting others but she had been told to be wary to tell others supernatural things but maybe since this was concerning herself she didn’t have to be so secretive. She just worried Athena would hate her if she found out. “Uh, I found out about my parent’s past. What they were. What… I guess that makes me.” Come on, just out with it. She looked up at Athena, realizing she was worried about getting judged by someone younger than her - not that her opinion didn’t matter but… Athena was young and hopefully more open-minded. But how was she to start everything? Should she explain the supernatural? “My parents were something called hunters. They were killed by things they hunted and… I was taken in by two loving people. But I’m not… normal. That’s what my cousin told me. He was like them. Like me.”

She watched Shiloh carefully - though she’d always been one for action (too much waiting around made her feel antsy, even still - no matter how steady-handed she had the ability to be), Athena also knew that she excelled at observing others. That just simple observation could tell a great deal about someone, regardless of whether or not they were supernatural or not. Her parents had always believed that was the best way to exploit someone’s weaknesses. Watch and then act. Athena knew that she’d leaned more into the act side of it all. Perhaps that was part of why her father had wanted her to watch his surgeries so much. Patience does us good too, Athena. She could hear his voice just as she looked right over at Shiloh. Her fingers found her ring - a reminder of one of her moments of failure, but also a reminder of why she had to keep to keep going - and they fiddled with it, waiting to see what Shiloh was going to say. Even though she was practically positive she knew what she was going to say. She offered a small, genuine smile to Shiloh. And there it was. Hunters. She kept her expression neutral for a moment, waiting to see if Shiloh had more to say. Cousin. Followed by a reminder that she’d been adopted - by perhaps two humans, which would explain why Shiloh had been so confused about her lack of focus. About how she’d had struggles in school, and for a moment Athena frowned. These people had been unaware of Shiloh’s gift. “It’s okay.” She let a smile cross her face again. “I know I was right about there being something about you.” Another nod. “I’m one too.” She moved her hand to rest against Shiloh’s arm. “This means that you are extraordinary, you know that? Also, if you need help, I’m always happy to offer tips and tricks. First one. Don’t just go telling everyone about that.”

Athena was smiling. Why was she smiling? Shiloh felt on the verge of throwing up at knowing this - how could anyone be happy to hear this. Wait - did she hear her right? “You’re a hunter?” Shiloh asked just to make sure she had heard her correctly. Maybe this was why she was smiling. This 100% was why she was smiling. She took Athena in with that knowledge. This girl had had suspicions about her and she was a hunter. Did she even want to be friends or was she just trying to find something out. But she wanted to be friends now, right? Athena had always been nice to her, so it couldn’t have been a lie. “I-I don’t know.” She said as she shook her head. “My cousin tried to teach me - did teach me something so I can protect myself but when I killed -” She closed her eyes realizing that Athena had no idea what had conspired between her and her cousin. “I killed something. Someone.” It was someone. Someone was that thing. It wasn’t a thing at all. “I don’t know if I can do it again.” I don’t want to. Shiloh didn’t realize tears were coming down her face until a drop fell on her hand. She immediately started wiping her eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been… a lot lately.” It was all overwhelming. She was nine years old again and crying because everyone and everything was too loud. “But thank you… for not hating me.”

“Yes.” Athena replied - there was no need to dance around it now. They were both hunters and she felt incredibly relieved. Even if Shiloh was stammering and seemed less sure of herself than usual. Not that Athena really had much of a usual to base things from, given that she didn’t know the woman all too well, but she liked to think of herself as naturally gifted in reading people (at least as much as she could be), and whatever was going on now was different than at the carnival, even when Athena had actually spiked Shiloh’s slushie with silver just to see if she reacted. Something, not someone. It’s no longer someone, once you’ve done away with them, and even if it is, what does it matter? Except that Shiloh was new to all of this and that meant that overwhelming her with more information was probably not the best choice for right now. “It’s a learning curve.” She couldn’t remember if she’d cried the first time she’d killed something - which had happened before she and her brother started their proper hunting. Couldn’t remember if she’d cried when watching her father’s operations, but she didn’t think she had. Even at age six, she’d watched with intense fascination, committing everything that he did to memory, just in case he asked about it after. “Don’t - you don’t have to say sorry, Shiloh. It’s fine.” Wonderful, sacred, beautiful, even. “I wouldn’t hate you for that, never.”

Shiloh swallowed roughly and nodded as she regained composure. It was a relief to know there was someone out there whose first reaction wasn’t rage - not that she had experienced that - yet. But she feared her loved ones’ rejections. Evelyn. Skylar. Sniffling, she felt okay to talk now. “I have a lot of questions,” Shiloh started. Even with her cousin she asked far more questions than even he had answers for. A lot of her questions would probably forever remain unanswered. “But, the first thing I wanna ask is--can we bake these maple scones first because I’m starting to get hungry.” She let out a soft chuckle hoping that the redirection would turn the conversation back to a positive note. And normal. “I’m just not ready to talk about hunter things right now, but thank you so much for giving me a chance to.” Shiloh appreciated that tremendously and right now she was forever thankful of Athena and hoped the two of them could have a good friendship in the future.

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Live Wire --The Dirt--

Little something I’ve been working on due to a lack of Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx fics.

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school has had a rough life and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night...the same night Motley Crue is born.

Since westward expansion and the Gold Rush, all anyone in the United States could think about were the promises that seemed to lie buried within the jungled streets of chaos in California. It was where everyone wanted to be—the ocean was beautiful, Hollywood was booming, the mountains up north were to die for, and the music scene was evolving before the world’s eyes. It seemed like the perfect place for anyone with a dream and the will-power to achieve it; however, for Wren Ledden, California was a cage that, since a young age, she promised herself she’d find her way out of.

Wren was smart, driven, and talented, but never seemed to be in the right place at the right time, and as everyone knows, timing is everything. School was all too easy for her and she even managed to complete all of her gen-ed courses for college while she was still a junior in high school. By the time she graduated with her high school diploma, she had her associate’s degree and a ‘the-sky’s-the-limit’ attitude toward the rest of her life. Sure, she didn’t have the money to attend a fancy college and she didn’t know what the hell she even wanted to study, but she knew two things: one, she’d worked her ass off throughout high school, and two, she deserved a break.

“Why the hell do you study so much?” Wren heard her one and only friend from high school grumble as she laid on her back and read from a Rolling Stone magazine.

“Do you even know what the hell I’m reading?” she huffed as she tossed the magazine at the lanky boy’s face.

“Rolling Stone,” he commented with an airy tone as he stole a glance away from his reflection to look at the magazine that rested beside him. “Cool. I just assumed you were being a nerd.” The all too familiar snarky laugh she had heard resonate through her friend’s lungs since middle school echoed against the walls of his room.

“Shut up, asshole.” Wren’s lips curled up into a smirk as she flipped over from her resting position on his bed to sitting cross-legged and watching her friend primp. “I still can’t believe you’re going to this concert with what’s her nuts and not me,” Wren sighed in exuberant frustration as her eyes drifted from her friend to the posters that littered the walls of his room.

“Oh, come on, Wren, give her a chance; I bet you’d like her! She’s really cool,” he whined as he turned around from the mirror and turned down the tape playing over the speakers.

“I bet,” Wren said dryly as her mind drifted from her friend’s new girlfriend to the band he was taking her to go see tonight. “I’m just pissed because I turned you on to London in the first place, Tommy.”

“And I know we always said we’d go together, but I’m trying to get her to give them a chance.”

“So you’re taking someone who may not even like the show over me, your best friend and musical connoisseur?” Wren shot Tommy a pained look and pretended to clutch her heart as she flopped backwards on his bed.

“Look, if it means that much to you, I can cancel tonight and we can go.” Tommy’s big heart was something that had drawn Wren to him in the first place. Throughout high school, she was an outcast; Wren had a different upbringing from many of her classmates, including Tommy, which led to her inability to trust others. Middle school band brought Wren the only friend she’d ever need, someone to share her interests, who was able to break down her walls, and whose family gave her what she lacked in her own familial life. Tommy’s chaotic extroversion saved Wren’s dry-humored introverted time and time again. Tommy had always been fond of Wren and he even found her cynicism humorous, albeit at first he was only interested in dating her, but as they grew closer as friends, both Wren and Tommy realized they were bonded for life.

“Go on your date, Tommy,” Wren sighed as she watched the slightest hint of disappointment cross his eyes.

“Meet me at the diner afterwards?” He asked with big, begging eyes. “I want you to meet her.” Wren considered her options: spend another night crashing in Tommy’s parents’ guest room and annoying his little sister, Athena, or meeting what would probably be another week-long girlfriend he had fallen head-over-heels for.

“Sure,” she sighed only to catch his infectious smile growing onto her lips. “But that’s only if I don’t decide to sneak into the show behind you like we did with that punk band last month.”

“Why the fuck don’t you just come with us?” Tommy asked as he jumped up from where he was sitting on the floor and spun toward where Wren was still perched on his bed.

“I’m not dressed for the strip,” she said as she tossed her arms out to the side and examined her attire. A black leather jacket hung from Wren’s shoulders as a hand-made cropped black shirt dangled around her torso, baring just a portion of her midriff as black leather pants hugged her legs and chunky boots were laced around her feet.

“Yes you are, and if we didn’t already know this,” he said and gestured between the two “would never work, I’d even say you were hot.” Tommy said as he pulled his own black leather jacked over the mustard yellow t-shirt he wore, and then stuffed his drumsticks through the loop of his studded belt.

“These are just my normal clothes; you know the slutty shit girls wear out there,” Wren continued, trying her hardest to keep from becoming a third wheel on Tommy’s day.

“I’ll even pay for you!” her friend continued to beg for her companionship.

“So you’re taking both of us out tonight?” Wren huffed with a cocky and teasing smirk on her face. As Tommy thought through his proposition, he raised his eyebrows and pointed at his best friend with a curious and playful look spreading over his face, however Wren was quick to shut his wandering thoughts down. “Just sneak off for a bit once you get there and come to that janky fucking door in the men’s room to let me in.”

“I can do that!” Tommy said as he opened his bedroom door and ushered for Wren to come with him down the hall and into the kitchen. As she paced through the halls of a home she’d come to know all too familiarly, she tried to avert her eyes from all signs that reminded her she lived there. She hated having to rely on anyone besides herself. Her own ability to provide for herself was all she had ever known. Even when she still lived at home, her parents were too self-indulged and too busy fighting one another to notice their only child. At eighteen, they threw her to the wolves, ready to be rid of her—the thing that in their eyes kept them from having the life they’d wanted—and claimed she would never make anything of herself. Thankfully, upon hearing of her misfortune nearly ten months after the fact, Tommy called bullshit on Wren’s parents and his family opened their home to her. Wren was beyond grateful for their generosity, but overwhelmingly guilty for even finding herself in the position to put someone out in such a damning way.

“You’re not a burden to my folks,” Tommy would always say. “They love you like the daughter they never had; because their real daughter is nice and sweet, and not anywhere near as fucking metal as you.”

Tommy and Wren’s friendship was an odd one—everyone who saw the pair together could see that much. He was a colorful person who expressed everything outwardly, whereas Wren was often described as dark and introspective. At shows, Tommy would be flailing his limbs around, letting the music speak to his body while Wren let the rhythm and lyrics fill her soul. She’d tap her foot and bang her head on occasion, but would never lunge herself into the mosh pit and crowd-surf among other fans as Tommy had on more than one occasion. However unlikely the friendship maybe, it was strong and, on many occasions, too strong for Tommy’s dates to handle. Girls who dated Tommy never understood how he could be so close to Wren without wanting to fuck her, and their suspicion always got the best of them. This always led to an end in the relationship after a huge fight over an ultimatum between Wren or whatever flavor of the week he was tasting.

Regardless of the Bass family’s insistence on Wren’s presence being nothing but welcome, she found herself ridden by guilt each night she ate their food and took up space in their home. Getting out of the house and going to see London with Tommy—even if they wouldn’t be together during the show—could be exactly what Wren needs to get out of the mental funk she’d been finding herself returning to for months now.

Wren was fine with the sneaking around and the ridiculous plots Tommy would find himself cooking up on how to avoid “the Wren issue” with his dates while also making sure he’d have a good time if his date abandoned him at a show. It wasn’t uncommon for many of the girls Tommy brought around to cower away from the rock scene, and as much of a people person as Tommy was, he hated being at shows by himself. Tonight wouldn’t be the first time Wren hung around at a concert waiting for her best friend’s date to bail at the sight of a fight, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Overall, she had fun: it was fun to sneak into clubs to watch her favorite bands, it was fun knowing that she was Tommy’s ride or die—the one who he knew would always be there to keep him company—and it was a hell of a lot more fun when the stuck up bitches bailed and she got to break out of her shell a tiny bit and join Tommy in the mosh pit for a song or two. Deep down, in the pit of her stomach, as she held her arms close and tried to ignore the subtly cool breeze floating through the Los Angeles streets, she knew tonight was going to be fun too.

“Fuck, Tommy, where are you?” she grunted. Wren leaned her back against the brick wall and kicked the bathroom door with the heel of her boot, impatient as to why it was taking him so long to come and get her. She accounted for the five-minute drive to his girlfriend’s house, and the five-minute drive back, but after standing in the chilly air for over twenty minutes, she allowed herself to grow impatient at Tommy’s tardiness. She knew in reality he was probably still waiting in the long ass line out front, so she tried to suppress the temper that usually came with her impatience. Tilting her head up and gazing at the sliver of sky between the buildings surrounding her, Wren let the cool air flow over her hot cheeks. Just as she was about to step away from the wall and peer around the corner to see if she could spot Tommy’s leopard printed ass in the sea of people waiting to get in, she heard the rusty creak of the alley door open and poked her head inside.

“Finally,” she sighed as she made the small jump from the ground up through the slightly elevated bathroom floor. “I thought you forgot about me Tomm—you’re not Tommy.” The bar was always dark and dingy, and the bathrooms were even more so than the rest of the establishment, however she was always easily able to distinguish her friend from other men. A tall man, no more than three or four years older than her, stood before her with a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his left hand as his right hand grasped what appeared to be a glass of either whiskey or bourbon on the rocks. He wore a dark leather jacket with what appeared to be a dark shirt underneath and dark leather pants. His overall demeanor seemed to be in stark contrast of Tommy, and Wren straightened her posture and tone from hunched over joking banter to straight-line intimidation standoff.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the man asked once the alley door closed. He assumed that she wouldn’t want a confrontation and that she’d retreat from the venue out of submission or intimidation, but Wren’s eyebrows quickly stitched into a skeptical glare as she stood her ground. The man before her still had his lighter flicked open and a small flame burned in his hand while his hazel eyes peered down at the young woman. He tried to stand up straighter in order to intimidate her into explaining herself, but he got a sense nothing would make her stand down. She had fierce, cold eyes that seemed to cut right through him and in an instant of impatience, he opened his mouth to repeat himself, only to have her speak over him.

“What does it look like?” she scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. The man’s narrowed eyes, tense jaw, and teased, long black hair was nothing more than an obstacle keeping her from having a good time at a show she’d been dying to see.

“Looks like you’re sneaking in,” the man said with an arrogant smirk as he cocked his head to the left and took in the woman’s appearance.

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” Wren smirked, “you regular Sherlock Holmes.” Dropping her arms to her side, Wren took a long step forward to side-step the man in front of her only for him to take a quick step to his left and puff out his chest. “Come on, man,” she sighed. “You can’t be that much of a dick!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he smirked devilishly. He was certain the woman would crack and turn away to save herself the humiliation of continuing to linger in a men’s room, but the self-assured grin that traveled onto her face only caused his eyebrows to furrow in curiosity.

“You may be a dick, but you’re nothing but talk,” Wren stated and placed her hands gently on her hips, allowing herself to be in as vulnerable of a position as she could be in a situation like this in order to show how unafraid she was of the man before her. “I, on the other hand, have the balls to follow through. So, thanks for the, whatever the fuck public decency lecture that was, but I’m going to step around you now and watch what I expect to be a kick ass show that I’m, frankly, too damn broke to afford to see the ‘appropriate’ way,” Wren stated while using air quotes. “I’m also too damn broke to afford a drink, even in a hole like this, so,” without any warning, she slipped her fingers around the glass the man was holding, plucked it from his hand, and sent the burning, icy liquor down her throat in one large gulp, “thanks for the Jack, even if it is a pansy-ass whiskey if you ask me.” With nothing more than a light shoulder check, Wren took a long stride past the man standing in her way, and carried herself high as she paced past the line of men at the urinals watching the scene unfold, before she emerged into the bar.

It only took her about ten minutes to find Tommy in the masses of concert goers, and throughout the night, she managed to keep him in her sights just in case his date bailed; although at the end of the night, she was still pressed against the back of the venue, being forced to squint in order to make out which band was playing, while Miss Blondie hung close to Tommy. Wren had to hand it to the girl, she wasn’t like the other chicks Tommy brought to shows in hopes of turning them on to the rock scene. Even when the bassist of London threw a heavy hitting punch at the band’s lead singer, she didn’t run off like Wren had expected. Sure, she jumped back in awe as the rest of the crowd shouted either obscenities of shock or encouragement, but she didn’t run, and that deserved at least a little respect from Wren.

As bouncers rushed toward the stage to separate the two band members, other employees of the bar acted as ushers to escort the numerous patrons of various stages of intoxication out of the venue and into the streets to have a better chance of breaking up the fight without a brawl. Wren tried to call out for Tommy’s attention, but a slight panic came over her as she noticed a cop picking out another sleazy freeloader who had snuck in through one of the other weak points in security. Wren retreated the way she had come in—through the dank and abysmal restroom, leading into a dingy alley—and then disappeared into the crowd that dispersed along the sidewalk of the Sunset Strip.

Continue Reading: Next Chapter

[sunnyie-eve]

Somebody To Love (Part 20- Falling Of Queen)

(Ben!RogerTaylor)

Words: 2102

Warnings: Language

A/N: Sorry I haven’t been very active with the story. I’ve been busy and everyone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

London 1982

Felix just had his second birthday and Louisa had her first. Jim asked me to tag along today to an interview the bands was going to for the new album. Which meant I had to get a someone else to watch Felix because my parents were out of the country for a holiday. Lucky my brother Harry and his girlfriend said they would look after him for me today and whenever I need someone in the future.

"Why are you here?" Paul asks as I hope out of the car with Jim. "I told her to come. It's her job to be here too remember. Plus I made Alice my assistant to help co-manage the band." Jim says smiling at me and I follow him inside. "Jim, were you just being serious out there?" I ask as we get closer to the back room with the band. "Yes darling. I feel like you need a better position then just sewing the bands clothes. Now you'll help me keep the band on schedule, help with concert dates and more." He pats my back opening the door for me. "Thank you!" I hug him and Roger rushes over to me.

"Do I look alright? For the press?" He shows off his outfit making me laugh at him. "Umm Where's the tie you had leaving the house... add that then maybe you'll look better." I pat his chest going to sit by Brian and Deaky. "Fred looks like a mess." I sing quietly looking at him talking to Paul. "Probably high once again." Deaky shakes his head as I lean mine on him and throw my legs over Brian's lap. "Look Deaky, Alice is actually giving us attention." Brian says slapping my thighs. "She loves us again." Deaky shouts holding me in his arms. "I've always loved you guys. It's just I've been busy." I sit up and kiss their cheeks. "YOUR MY WIFE! BACK OFF ALICE!" Roger yells sitting on my lap.

"It's time." Jim tells the band and we all leave the room. "Please tell me you're going to take off those sunglasses." I look at Roger as I fix his outfit one more time. "Love you." He kisses me before following the guys out. "Alice dear, you can stand next to me." Jim motions for me to follow him. When the questions started it was all Freddie, Freddie, Freddie... with unnecessary questions that had nothing to do with the album. Brian looked at me and Jim and we just had the same look as him.

"I don't know, I haven't figured out love yet." Fred says to one of the reporter. "But it implies something else, Freddie." The same reporter says. "That might be a better question for Rog." Fred says looking at Roger. "Watch it." Roger says taking a drag of his cigarette then turns his head towards me. I cross my arms then pop my neck looking back at the press. They still go on and only ask Freddie questions about himself and not the band. Brian tries to get them to ask about the album but no one listens. It jus gets more louder and Fred snaps right back. I could tell he was going to crack at any second and then bam! He stands up starting to yell. "Okay, Thank you. Time is up." Jim says and the guys start to walk back. Roger walks over to me and takes my hand into his. "Fuck Freddie." He says as we try to walk throw the crowd.

"Roger, Alice is your marriage working? What was Fred saying about asking you?!" A reporter asks us making more follow us now. "No questions." Rog says pulling me closer to him. "Is that a no then? Are you cheating on your wife?" Another asks and Jim, Brian, and Deaky rush over to us. "We're perfectly fine." He says trying not to break like Fred did. "No more, questions. The press conference is over now." Brian says holding me close to him since Roger passed me to Brian to get in the car.

When we get in the car Roger starts to cruse up a store and I try to calm him down. "Rog, baby breath." I hold his hands and he glares at Freddie in front of him, "You started it." He points his finger at him and he just laughs at Roger. "Darling, I don't know what you're talking about." Roger's face starts to turn red. "Roger, Quit it please." I make him look at me and he just looks at me the whole ride trying to ignore Freddie and Paul.

~

"Oh my god, look at you!" I clap my hands at Freddie and he poses for me. I just arrived to the set for I Want To Break Free music video. "Where's Roger?" I ask and I see Brian walk towards me and I start to crack up. "How the hell did they get all those rollers in your hair?" I look at his hair and Deaky then joins us making me die more. "Just wait till you see your husband." He says and points towards the door he came out of and I quickly walk towards the door.

I open it to see Roger in his drag outfit of a school girl and I crack up making him get embarrassed. "Look at you!" I clap my hands and he stops me, "Stop, I'm embarrassed like this." He says making me giggle, "Why? You're bloody hot!" I give him a small kiss and he whines, "Stop!" He lets go of my hands and goes to join the boys. "Babe, you don't need to be embarrassed." I say wrapping my arms around his waist and he slaps my hands. "You know, I'd rather see you in this." He whispers turning around kissing me. "Nah, I prefer you in it." I wink going to go sit and watch them record.

Once they were done filming the music video one of the dancers took pictures of Roger, Brian, and Deaky on the couch. "Brilliant. Can I get up now?" Roger asks laying on his back across Deaky and I smile at them. "What is happening?" Roger asks as Deaky keeps him in place. "No, you can't." Deaky says and Brian joins in, "I wanna be in it." I shake my head walking up to them. "Get off me!" Deaky yells as Brian gets in him. "You are grown men acting like this." I laugh and Roger reaches for my hand pulling into the beg mess.

"Come on, guys! You gotta get out of this and back into normal clothes." I laugh trying to get up as they hold me down. "Ugh Fine." The all getting up going to their chairs and I follow Roger. "You know, I'm happy that you went with my idea I gave you because you pulled it off." I say taking off his makeup and wig. "You fine me attractive in this still?" He laughs and I nod my head. "I told you earlier didn't I." I kiss him and he holds me by my waist. "Now, have fun getting out of those tights baby." I wink at him while he leaves to go change.

~

"So why exactly is Fred calling everyone to meet up and again why do I have to come too?" I ask Roger as we go to see Freddie. "I don't know, he said he had something to tell us. And I drag you along because you're not only my wife but also part of the band too." He holds my hands as we park the car and the other two show up too.

"He'll be right out." Paul says walking into the room and we all take a seat and I sit on the same sofa as Deaky. Freddie walks into the room and is quite for a few minutes before speaking. "MTV banned our video. The youth of America. We helped give birth to MTV." He says turning to face us. "It's America. They're Puritans in public, perverts in private." Brian tells him and he shakes his head. "I'm never tour in the U.S again. And I'm the one being blamed for it. Not you, dear... whose idea, I believe, it was to dress up in drag. Not you... Not even you, who wrote the bloody song." Fred points at each member.

Freddie continue to say what everyone was calling him and that's he's tired of touring, which made all of us look at him. "Well I need a break." He says before going on, "I'm sick of it." He says not looking at us. "What are you saying, Freddie?" Deaky asks him and he stays quiet for some quite of time. "I've signed a deal with CBS Records." He says with his back still facing us and we all react differently. "You've done what?" Roger sits up all the way. "Without telling us?" Brian asks turning around. "What kind of deal?" Deaky asks.

"Look, I'm not saying we won't record or ever tour again. Queen will go on. But I need to do something different." He goes on and I was screaming on the inside not listening to him anymore. "A solo album?" Brian asks and Paul speaks up, "Two, actually. Back to back." I see Roger getting mad, "Another word out of you and I'll throw you out the bloody window. " Paul just looks away. "But that's years, Freddie. I mean... that will take years." Deaky sits up. "I don't believe this... how much?" Roger asks him and he does answer him. "What did they pay you?" He asks again and no answer. "I want to know how much they paid..." Fred cuts Roger off. "4 million!" He yells at him. "That's more than any Queen deal." I say shaking my head.

"Fred, we're a family." Brian says making Fred snap. "No, we're not! We're not a family! You've got families, children, wives. What do I got?" Fred shouts. "You've got 4 million dollars. Perhaps you can buy yourself a family." Deaky says. "I won't compromise my vision any longer." He says and Roger gets pissed again, "Compromise? Are you joking? You were working at Heathrow before we gave you a chance." Fred spins around very quickly, "And without me... you'd be a dentist... drumming 12/8 time blues at the weekend at the Crown and Anchor. You wouldn't even have your wife if it wasn't for me." He says then turns to Brian and I start to get mad.

"And you. Well you would be Dr. Brian May... author of a fascinating dissertation on the cosmos... that no one ever reads. And Deaky... for the life of me... nothing comes to mind." He tells the other two. "I studied electrical engineering. Does that meet your standards?" He lets him know. "Perfect." He laughs. "Dear Alice, you would probably have such a better life then being stuck with this band and your messed up husband. You just turned into one of his little fuck toys to play with your dumb heart. You stupid little slutty girl. " He smiles at me and Paul chuckles.Roger was about to grab him but I put a finger up to stop him, "Fred, Why didn't you just take the offer when Reid told you years ago? You basically fired him for no reason because he was just doing what someone else told him to do. Also Darling, I'm not the toy here anymore... You are one now. " I spit at him clearly pissed off with him and he stays quiet and begins to leave the room.

"You just killed Queen." Roger tells him. "Oh, give it a kiss one day. She might wake up." He says. "You need us, Freddie. More then you know." Brian tells him. "I don't need anyone." He says leave us and Paul gets up to follow him. "Told you." He whispers to me and I flip him off, "Fuck you."

"You said something about an offer in the past?" Roger asks me as I run my hand through my hair. "Yes, that's why Fred fired Reid. Paul talked Reid into telling Fred about a solo deal back then." I say looking at the floor. "And you didn't tell us?" He raises his voice at me. "Don't raise your fucking voice at me! I told you I didn't trust Paul and that he was up to something! BUT NO, you told me that I was stressed out with the baby!" I yell at him standing up to face him.

[imnotyourpoet]

I came out publically as trans 5 and a half years ago, and I recently found my post explaining it (which I will post).

Yesterday I was granted my legal name change, a year and a half ago I had top surgery, and three years ago I started testosterone.

A lot has happened since I wrote my coming out letter, but rereading has reminded me of how far I’ve come. To think I’d be sitting where I’m sitting when I originally posted this, I would have thought it was a dream. I’m so appreciative of the journey I’ve made, but I’m definitely still on it. Every day brings a new challenge, but so far I’m still here right?

It’s time I come clean from something that I’ve only been a little scared to fully admit to myself. I’m transgender.. that means that I was born in a body whose anatomical sex and gender don’t quite line up. I’m out to half of the people I know, I’m out to the people I newly meet because their eyes don’t have the same weight as the people that I’ve looked up to my whole life have.

So where’s this coming from? No where really, I’ve felt it for a long time, I’ve looked like a little boy my whole life, short hair, grass stained knees, loud mouth, a definite lady killer from ages 1-forever, I guess you could say I could have just been a tom boy, but being a tom boy doesn’t make you feel wrong for using the girls bathroom.

I never really understood what gender was for a long time, I knew I didn’t fit in with the girls, but for some reason I never really fit in with the boys either. I remember being called a “he-she” and an “it” and being made fun of, I remember bring taunted and laughed at in bathrooms, I remember teachers constantly telling me that I was lying about who I was. I was always so confused, I just wanted to dress in shorts and t-shirt, and play at recess and use the bathroom I was told to use, but everyone seemed to have a problem with it.

I realized later on that I was different, and at first that wasn’t okay with me, I tried to grow my hair out (for a very short time) I tried girl clothes and make-up (I looked pretty good) but I hated it, I hated how I looked and it didn’t feel right, I turned to self harm and had destructive behaviors that lead to a rocky relationship (at the time) with my parents (and loosing my phone and laptop). Eventually I cut my hair back off but I just didn’t feel enough, I even made a fake profile on some stupid social media site where I used my pictures but I said I was a boy and my name was Alexander. For a long time I really couldn’t have told you why I did that, but now I know that it’s because I was just trying to figure out who I was.

Fast forward to now, I’m 20 years old trying to blog about how I’m a real man and how I want everyone in my life to accept that. As I’m typing this I’m trying to think of what my friends will say, my parents, my cousins and aunts and uncles, and everyone else, I’m trying to see their reactions but it scares me because I’m really not sure what some will say.

But I know that this is part of the process.

Now, if I could be comfortable in my body I sure as hell would choose that. So anyone reading this thinking i’m just making a decision needs to really pay attention here: this sucks, and it’s hard. I wear a binder every day and have sore ribs and tight back muscles so I can pass in public, while still being misgendered (I use he/him, and misgendering is when someone refers to me with her/she/chicks/ lady/mam/etc). I’m pre-t (so no hormones yet) which doesn’t help with the whole passing thing, but when i can start hormones it’s going to be expensive, and I hate shots. I hate wondering what it’s like to be able to pee standing up, or what it’s like to get a boner. That may sound strange, but it’s something I’ll never really get to experience. Being trans is complicated, and it’s hard to say that I would choose to grow up with the bullying I had or the identity issues I dealt with.

But don’t be mistaken, I wouldn’t change who I am now, I realize that it might be hard to understand, but I’m growing to love me, and with out those shitty experiences I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

So what does me being trans mean for you? Really, honestly, nothing. I’m the same kid I was when I was 10 and running around playing football at recess, I’m also the same kid that cried to my mom because I was scared of the dark. I’m not a different person, I’m just tweaking my body to match who I really am.

Now I really don’t think most people reading this are going to be shocked or surprised in the least bit, but being able to fully admit to being transgender is something I need to do for myself. So please, for my sake, if you care about, love me, support me, or just aren’t a dick, please use he/him pronouns with me.

I’ve got one life, and I plan on living it as well… me.

[slashersteve]

Can’t Cheat Fate [1]

pairing: Steve Harrington/Female Reader, slight Jonathan Byers/Female Reader

series summary: After years of pining after the same guy you finally decide to tell him, but unfortunately you waited too long and he’s found someone else. Luckily, Steve Harrington knows offers to help you get him back if you’re willing to help him win the girl of his dreams. 

warnings: an innocent kiss occurs, dumb 13 year old reader  || word count: 2.6k +  

note: this came out longer than expected oof pure backstory PURE

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Next Chapter ->

***

You guess you could say this story started with a party at the end of your eighth grade year, your first real, unsupervised party of boys and girls. It would be the first of many parties that would be thrown in the coming High School years, and it’s also the party that really defined the events that would happen in your Junior year of high school.

An hour before the party started, you got ready with the person who was throwing this party and one of your best friend’s at the time, Tina Cline. You were styling each other’s hair and Tina was throwing you a bunch of clothes for you to wear, but also taking back some clothes that she wanted to wear instead.

“I’ll just wear the first skirt you threw at me,” you told her after the third time she took a shirt from you. You took a look at yourself in the mirror admiring the black mini-skirt your parents would’ve told you to change out of if you left the house in it. It wasn’t yours, nor was it Tina’s, it was her sister’s skirt who luckily would be gone for the night. You fixed your pink and white horizontal striped shirt, nodding approvingly at your own outfit.

“Oh- you look- wait, I have something that’ll match,” Tina tossed the clothes she also pulled out of her sister’s closet onto the bed with the others, and went to her vanity, digging through a white box. She pulled out a light pink small hair clip, and handed it to you, “I’m wearing the matching purple one! See!” she pointed to the purple clip in her hair, and you grinned. You used the clip to bump up your hair a little more and nodded- happy with your party outfit.

It was silly thinking back on how much you tried to look more grown-up for that party, helping Tina raid her sister’s closet, and make up box. You both even attempted to get alcohol but deciding against it last minute- “There will be future parties, anyway,” Tina had said, stashing the bottle back underneath the kitchen sink where her parents hid it. There was really nothing you were expecting to happen at this particular party, except maybe finally getting seen as more than a friend by the person you really liked .

That person was your real best friend, someone you’ve known since you first moved to Hawkins all those years ago, Jonathan Byers. Your friendship bloomed on your very first day at Hawkins Elementary during lunch. You had seen him sitting all alone underneath a tree eating a sandwich, and something told you to sit there with him. It took quite a bit of time, but soon you two became friends, then to best friends, and then...well you sort of fell for him not too long after. So yeah- maybe what you were expecting is for Jonathan to see you like this, and to realize how much he actually loves you back- then maybe he would sweep you off your feet where then you two would go on to be one of the best and cutest couples all throughout high school.

It was a crazy fantasy, but a girl could dream.

“Look!” Tina held up a top hat that she had stolen from her younger brother’s magic kit, “Perfect for Seven Minutes in Heaven!” You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of that game, do you really need to explain the rules? A generic party game where two people go into the closet and do whatever they want for seven full minutes, “You have to kiss and stuff,” you recalled Tina explaining during lunch the day before, longingly looking at another person in your friend group- Steve Harrington. If you had it bad for Jonathan Byers, Tina had it worse for Steve Harrington. And everyone knew it. Luckily, no one knew about your crush on Jonathan- but they only knew Tina’s crush because she had practically announced it.

Steve Harrington was a good-looking kid, and would grow into any even more good-looking teenager, he was stupid cute. If you weren’t hung up Jonathan, you might’ve also crushed on him like Tina and so many other girls did. You met him first when he moved to Hawkins the middle of seventh grade, and was the reason he was apart of your small group. Tina started crushing on him the day you introduced her to him, and word around school was Steve liked her back. You wonder what that was like. Anyway, Tina's miraculous plan was to rig the game of Seven Minutes in Heaven so she and Steve could go into the closet together to solidify their relationship, and being a good friend- you were hoping it would work.

“So what I’m going to do is put my hair clip into the hat right in front of him, and maybe...wink? Oh- would that be too forward?” Tina was going on as she held up clothes to her body and then tossing them when she didn’t like it. You didn’t really hear her- but that was because the doorbell rang, “Wait! People can’t come yet!” Tina called as you slammed her bedroom door open.

“No it’s just Jonathan- I told him to come a little earlier,” you said, and Tina hummed in response, going back to finding the perfect outfit. With your heart beating out of your chest you zoomed down the stairs towards the front door. You stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, and looking down at your outfit once more. You then pat down your hair, and opened the door, a large grin on your lips when you saw him. He smiled sheepishly at you.

“Hey (y/n),” he said, you blushed as you stepped forward to give him a hug and tried to discreetly pose, which was literally just standing up more straight and sucking in your stomach a little tighter. To your dismay Jonathan didn’t comment or even acknowledge your look, and simply walked by you as he asked when the others would arrive.

Your heart dropped slightly. It’s okay, you thought optimistically, there’s still time.

***

“Okay girls! Game time! Put something of yours into this hat!” Tina announced midway through the party, waving the empty hat in the air. All the girl’s participating began to remove something of theirs, such as earrings, bracelets, scrunchies- whatever they wanted. You were sitting on the couch with Jonathan, and asked him, “Are you going to play?” He looked up, then shook his head, you frowned in disappointment, but you guessed it was for the best- there’s a chance he would have to go in with another girl and not you.

“Are you?” he asked, you pressed your lips together in thought- a part of you really wanted to play, but another part of you didn’t want to because Jonathan wasn’t going to play, but then Tina put the hat in your face.

“Come on (y/n), you said you’d play remember? And we need one more girl, including me, so it’ll be even, come on,” she shook the hat impatiently, and you shot Jonathan a look. You then removed the pink clip from your hair and dropped it into the hat. Tina thanked you, and walked away. Right when she was a good few feet away getting items from another party goer, Jonathan had a very negative reaction to your choice to play.

“Are you really going to play this game (y/n)?” he asked, turning his entire body towards you. You shrunk in your spot, and shrugged as you replied, “Yeah! I want to have fun! It’s a harmless game.” Jonathan disagreed, and told you it was in fact an incredibly stupid game which caused a whisper argument between you and him. You thought he was stupid because he made you sit with him all alone on the couch while everyone danced and mingled- so you’ll be damned if you were going to let him talk you out of it! And also - here you were all dressed up in hopes he'd compliment you, and he didn’t even acknowledge it when he first arrived! So you were already annoyed with him when he first even arrived at the party.

In retrospect, you weren't dating so you shouldn't have expected him to compliment you, but at the time it was the worst thing he could do. Your argument had continued, but had ceased when you both noticed the entire room got quiet except for the music playing. You saw everyone looking at the both of you, and you almost choked on your own spit when you saw why.

Steve had been the first to choose, something you knew would happen so Tina wouldn’t have to worry about someone else choosing hers, but neither of you had expected he wouldn’t choose hers. Between his fingers, he held instead of Tina’s purple clip- your pink clip. (technically Tina’s, but it was still your item) and everyone knew it was you!

You quickly got to your feet, and stuttered out, “Wait- let him choose again!” at Tina, an aching feeling in your stomach from the nerves. Tina looked at Steve to see what he would think- but he simply shrugged, closing his fingers around it.

“No- it’s okay,” Steve said as he approached you, you quickly shook your head, looking between him and then Tina, whose jaw was dropped, “Come on- we can’t cheat fate can we (y/n)?” He held out his hand for you to take. You looked at him again, a small smile on his face, and then to his hand- and for some reason you took it. Everyone in the room became tense as Steve led you into the closet, and you gave Tina one last look- she was glaring horribly at you and you didn’t know what to do or even say.

The closet shut behind you, and you were thankful you were no longer in sight of prying eyes or Tina’s death glare. The closet was dark, and you found that you didn’t want to let go of Steve’s hand- afraid that if you did you’d somehow lose him in the small space and be all alone. Steve squeezed your hand as if to reassure you that he wouldn’t let go.

“You were supposed to choose Tina’s hair clip, not mine,” you mumbled as the both of you found the back of the closet, you could feel Steve shrug.

“I thought I did,” he replied. Tina had said something about putting her clip into the hat and you stupidly threw in the matching pink one. You cursed softly, realizing your mistake, "I wouldn't worry, it's just a game," He said in a lame attempt to make you feel less stupid. You groaned, and hit your head gently on the wall behind you. Well- at least you could hear the music still, you could manage sitting for seven minutes with Steve just listening to it. It was awfully quiet for a supposed party going on though, you imagined that you couldn’t hear talking because everyone was crowded around the door, middle schoolers turning high schoolers could be so nosy. You sighed, leaning down the wall slightly- and Steve did the same. You both sunk to the ground, hands still loosely connected.

The last way you expected this party to go was to get into a argument with Jonathan, end up in the closet with Steve Harrington, and possibly losing Tina as a friend. You expected something better, more exciting, and less...well this. And as if the night couldn’t get any more strange, Steve suddenly asked you a question.

“Should we...should we kiss?” he asked in a soft, low questioning tone you’d never heard him talk in before.

“What?”

“Isn’t it apart of the rules? That we have to?” he asked, you looked where you believed his face was in the darkness, “That’s what Tina says anyway.” Your eyes adjusted slightly and you could make out the shape of his head and hair. He was right, Tina did say it was, but…

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you said with your cheeks heating up, lowkey happy he couldn’t see your face, but then he said, “Yeah me either.” Which surprised you! You knew a lot of girls who have claimed to have kissed him- every girl harbored a crush on this kid and it didn’t occur to you they’d be lying. You assumed, though, that he would’ve kissed someone by now.

“This wouldn’t count as a first kiss because it’s just apart of the game, right?” he asked, you shook your head. Maybe it was something in the air because for some reason you found his reasoning completely logical.

“Yeah...I don’t think it does.” You agreed because Tina wouldn’t absolutely hate you for kissing Steve in a game that she wanted to play...right? (Years in the future you’d call yourself a poor, naive, stupid 13 year old). Steve suddenly let go of your hand, and you instantly froze up, because now your fear of him disappearing and leaving you in the dark was real, instead of speaking up- you only listened for him. All you could hear was the beginning of Thompson Twin’s song, Hold Me Now, muffled by the walls.

Then, you felt the soft touch of his fingers just underneath your left eye, your breath hitched, and he said in a low voice, “I’m right here,” incredibly close to your face that you could smell his minty breath. Your heart was caught in your throat, unable to nod or even speak because was he really going to kiss you?

Seconds past, then you felt his nose gently touching your own, “Okay...I’m coming in.” There was some hesitation, a nerve-wrecking second before you finally felt his lips press against yours. The truth was, you hadn’t ever thought of Steve as more than a friend, not until this very moment. Butterflies bursted into your stomach, and you felt a small spark of electricity on your lips. Hell, you even let your eyes flutter shut and leaned in ever so slightly to him that his hand trailed down your face to cup your left cheek.

If you ever kissed anyone after that, you might’ve held them up to this kind of first kiss standard. Because it was just...wow.

The kiss ended in the way all kisses inside of a closet in a party should, with Tina slamming the door open and announcing that your seven minutes were up. Light poured into the dark space, and Hold Me Now was no longer muffled but blasting. You and Steve didn’t lean away from each other, not right away, but when you did it was clear that a kiss had occurred. His hand was still cupping your cheek and you open your eyes as you looked into his brown eyes.

Steve cleared his throat, dropping his hand to his side and standing up, holding his hand for you to take. You ended up getting up on your own, realizing the dumb thing you had just done to Tina. You offered Steve a forced smile before pushing pass him, and then Tina, and then the party crowd. Steve watched your retreating figure, and then exited too- people clapped and cheered when he did, and Tina- she was fuming with anger.

Jonathan was sitting on the couch still, arms crossed and still clearly annoyed that you actually went through with it.

“Can you walk me home?” you asked, and even though he was annoyed with you, he still nodded as he got to his feet. You couldn’t bring yourself to even look at Tina, or be at the same party- feeling like total bitch. She wasn’t going to talk to you again tonight, or...well ever again actually.

The obvious kiss between you and Steve was no longer the center of attention by the time you were leaving, all the kids gathered by the door to spy on the next players. You looked over at them, then let your eyes wander to where Steve and Tina stood. He was talking to her, and she was crossing her arms, then talked over him. Steve’s mouth shut, and you could see he was visibly annoyed. Then though, his eyes suddenly met yours and you quickly turned around. Oh god what did I do?

Now you were walking alongside Jonathan, feeling regretful of your actions. Jonathan was rolling his bike next to you as you both walked on in silence to your house that was only a block away. You could tell he was still annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke up finally, and he looked at you.

“For what?”

“For you know- playing the game…” you trailed off, fearing that you’d actually hurt his feelings. But he just shrugged.

“You don’t have to apologize, you got to go in with...Steve Harrington,” Jonathan said his name as if it tasted like dirt. You cringed and said, “I don’t like him like that you know! It was just a game!” Even though your lips were still tingling and the mention of his name made your stomach tie up in knots. Jonathan looked forward again, and shook his head.

“I don’t care if you like him or not.” And okay- you didn’t know what else to expect from him, but you could feel that that was not the case. You continued to walk, inching near your house and as you went on the driveway- you stopped and looked down.

“Oh- I’m wearing Tina’s sister’s skirt,” you said, patting down on the skirt, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Jonathan glanced down at your skirt and then away before you saw him, “I’m such an idiot!” Jonathan suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and once again, he shrugged his shoulders weakly.

“It’s late (y/n), go inside,” and you looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows slightly then slowly nodding.

“I will...I’m sorry again-”

“Stop apologizing- I’ll see you next Monday for school,” Jonathan turned away, hopping onto his bike and beginning to ride down your driveway and then on the street. He rode away in the middle of the empty street, and you watched him go.

This night, while it may not seem significant enough to throw your life 3 years later into a loop, ended up defining nearly everything that would occur between you, your best friend, and Steve Harrington. And if you could go back- you would’ve done things differently because now you are standing here on your driveway no longer a 13 year old but a 16 going on 17 year old watching Jonathan’s car disappear down the street. Except now, there were tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

This is all your fault Steve. You thought bitterly. Your stupid plan didn’t work.

[dustofinsanity]

𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘

ㅤㅤ

Namjoon / Reader ㅤㅤㅤ Arranged marriage AU ㅤㅤㅤ Words count: 8.1k

Summary:  Y/n's fate was already decided before she could realise it. She had to learn a lot of things, more than normal students had to, how to behave with important people, how to act like a girl from a good family even if hers was like all the others, etc... She didn't know about the plan.

Content/Warning: Angst, Romance/Fluff, Smut.

Everything seemed a bit too big around you the first time you came to that house, too big and luxurious. It looked like a castle straight out of a fairytale for the 4 year old girl you were and, even if it was more than beautiful, you knew you didn't belong to this world. Your family was like any other and you lived with the bare minimum, your dad always saying you didn't need more to be happy. And he was right! Even if you didn't have a lot of toys or beautiful clothes, you loved your life and didn't want it to change. But at first glance, it wasn't your parents' opinion. Honestly, you loved your parents more than everything and nothing or no one could change that but, like all parents, they wanted the best for their child without taking the time to know what their dear and lovely daughter wanted. They were thinking they knew what was good for you and you couldn't blame them. They were only parents after all and, even if they thought otherwise, they couldn't know everything. But, like you said, you couldn't blame them, they were your parents, they were doing their best for you and just wanted you to be happy. "What are we doing here, mommy?" You asked, pulling softly on her dress when a tall man who looked like a penguin to you with his black and white suit came and invited the three of you to follow him to the grand salon. That was the first time you saw him, this cute little boy who seemed a bit too serious for his age. He was standing next to his mother, hands hidden behind his back and head up. His father, a man with a sharp jawline and wide shoulders, greeted your family warmly and took your dad in his arms, calling him his old brother and saying it was a pleasure to see him after all these years. You didn't know you had an uncle, even less a rich one. "Joonie, go show Y/n our garden." The beautiful woman smiled to her son, pushing him a little. "Big people need to speak together." "Yes, eomonie." He simply replied, coming slowly towards you and inviting you to follow him outside. Even if he was young, that Joonie acted like an adult, using a formal language and keeping a serious expression on his face. When you asked him how old he was, he told you he was older than you by two years and chuckled a bit seeing you counting on your fingers. Cool! You always wanted a big brother or someone to see as that! You were strolling in the garden, Joonie giving you the name of all the flowers, when something caught your attention. Even if the house was like an enchanted castle, there was nothing that could help people to know a young boy was growing here. There were no toys, bikes, swings or anything for a kid. Frowning, you looked all around when Joonie noticed your face and asked what was wrong. "I don't need toys." He answered when you asked him where his toys were. "I don't have time to play." You were about to say that every kid had time to play when his mother called you from the grand salon balcony. You ran to the house, without noticing Joonie didn't follow you, and when you hugged your mother's leg, you saw the smile on your parent's faces. They were happy while Joonie's seemed a bit concerned. "Don't worry about Y/n." Your father said to his brother. "She will be perfect."

A few years passed by and, for the sweet and cute 10 year old girl you became, things got both fun and a bit weird. A couple of times a week, you had lessons on how to behave around important people, how to talk, laugh and even smile in a specific way, how to walk with your back straight, etc... Other days, you had to learn a lot of things that seemed a bit too difficult for the kid you were. Oh and you even had to learn piano! You wanted electric guitar but your professor told you it didn't fit the kind of girl you had to be. It was hard and you were really tired some days but, somehow, you liked that. It made you feel you were a poor little girl who learned how to be a princess and your parents were pretty proud of their dear daughter.

Even if they didn't show it. You knew your parents loved you, you could feel it deep down, but they changed drastically the day you met Joonie's family. Your dad was a bit more strict and your mom didn't smile as often as she did it before. They even stopped playing with you and locked most of your toys in chests, letting you only have three or four stuffed animals. When you asked what you'd done wrong, they just told you a girl like you didn't have time to play, that you had to focus on your lessons and nothing else. You cried a lot that night, alone in your room which looked so empty to you. You cried until you fell asleep. Hopefully, there was a light through the dark clouds, a light that made you smile everytime you saw it, a light that helped you to keep a smile on your face. Jung Hoseok aka Hobi. This lovable, kind, funny and so special kid, who moved next to your house few months before your tenth birthday and who was older than you by two years, always reminded you that, even if your parents were strict and asked you to be the perfect little girl, you didn't have to forget how to live happily. At first, your dad didn't like the fact you got along great with Hobi but your mom said that since you didn't have a lot of friends because of the lessons that take a lot of your time, they could let you for this time. "She won't end up with him, you know that." She told him, a hand on his shoulder while they were looking at Hoseok and you. But it didn't seem to ease your father's concern because, as soon as your lessons were over, you always ran to Hobi's house and spent a lot of time playing with him. He was even more afraid when you said you couldn't live without your Hobi, without your sunshine. From that day, Joonie was more present in your life. You already saw him a lot of times, almost once a month, but now, you had to see him once a week and, you had to admit, you didn't really like it. Joonie, whose real name was Namjoon, was kind, you couldn't deny it, but he also was too serious. If Hobi was your sunshine, your day, your energetic light, Joonie was your night, your moon, your peaceful darkness. Everything seemed too... boring with Namjoon even if he knew a lot of things and was pretty fascinating for a boy of his age. "Y/n? Are you listening to me?" Joonie asked while you were falling asleep on his desk. "I want to play hide and seek." You muttered before yawning and hearing him sigh. "Joonie, you have the perfect house to play hide and seek. You even could ask Hobi to come and play with us. He's-" "Don't talk about him." He cut you off, closing the book in front of him. "I know Hoseok, we go to the same school. You shouldn't be friends with him." "Uh? Why? Why are you saying this? He's nice and-" "Weird. He's weird. Everyone make fun of him because he looks like an idiot. I don't say he is an idiot but he's not good en-" You didn't let Namjoon finish and slapped him, tear falling from your eyes and teeth clenched. Immediately, a maid entering the room and asked what the noise she just heard was but froze when she saw the young boy with his red cheek. Then, she started to scold you, saying a good girl couldn't do this but you weren't listening to her, too focused on Namjoon, trying not to give him another slap. How could your moon talk about your sun like that ?

When you were a little girl, you were always saying that you would be a nice teenager, the kind of girl everyone would love and who would make her parents proud. Well... Things didn't turn out like you thought. You weren't the bad girl of the college, not at all, but you didn't have friends, you didn't want any to be honest, and, even if you didn't pay attention in classes, you got pretty good grades. You spent most of your time sending messages to Hobi and, when school was over, you always ran to your secret place, your "full of people we don't know" secret base: Hoseok's uncle's bar. It felt odd but also a bit sad when you came here because you felt safe in this place, safe and at home, not your real one but the one you liked the most. Every time Hobi's uncle welcomed his nephew and you with your favourite drinks and led you to "your" table, where you could be alone and talk about your days, your present, future and dreams. These moments were so precious to you and you didn't want them to end. But your parents were always here to remind you that you could never get what you wanted. "They will be mad at you if you miss another lesson." Hobi sighed, seeing your father's name popping up for the fifth time on your phone screen. "Good for them." You shrugged, taking a sip of your soda. "I'm tired of these shits. They want me to be a princess and I really hate it. Trust me, Hobi, as soon as I get my degree, I'm leaving this crazy house." "Don't say that, Y/n. Even if they do it the wrong way, your parents want the best for you. You should try to understand them." "I liked you better when you told me to live happily." "I grew up. I realised that we can't always get what we want." He smirked sadly, taking a sip of his beer. Frowning, you looked at him and immediately understood he was hiding something. Actually, you had noticed Hobi was acting weird for a few months but, when you asked what was wrong, he always changed the subject and smiled, saying he was with you so nothing could be wrong. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but you also knew him and you knew he was surely hiding this thing to protect you. Hoseok was always like that even if he knew it wasn't really a good thing. When he knew something could hurt the people he loved, he would hide it and try to fix everything on his own. He wanted to help everyone but, this time, you knew he couldn't, you understood he couldn't help you and seeing him like that worried you more that what he was hiding. "I thought you both would find a better... secret base than this bar." Someone chuckled, dragging you out of your thoughts. "I think you have a lesson now, Y/n." "Yeah, like yesterday, tomorrow and the other fucking days of the week." You sighed without looking at the tall man behind you. "How did you know I was here, Joonie?" "I told him." Hobi dropped, making you choke on your soda. "He has something to tell you." "Mind your own business, Hoseok." Namjoon growled, grabbing your arm and forcing you to stand up. "If you don't, I will." Staring at both of them, you couldn't say anything, too shocked about the fact that your sun told your moon where to find you. Why did he do this? And what did he want Namjoon to tell you? What were they hiding? "Tell me what's the fuck is happening!" You exclaimed, taking you arms out of Joonie's grip. "What do you have to tell me, Joonie?" The tall man in front of you sighed, rubbing the top of his nose and uttering some insults towards Hobi. You could see he didn't want to tell you what was happening, you knew him too, and you also could guess he was a bit... worried? "Tell me!" You repeated, losing your patience. "When you graduate-" Hoseok started to say. "We're gonna get married." Namjoon cut him off, looking straight into your eyes.

Everything went wrong, really wrong, as soon as you learned about this fucking arranged marriage. You? Married to Joonie? Hell no! He was like a big brother to you! He tried to keep you away from all the men in this world, expected you to be the smartest girl of the country by forcing you to learn things you weren't interested in or even showed you how to behave in some important situations. Wait... Oh God! It felt like a stab in your back, a deadly betrayal, a truth that ended all the last hopes you had and you couldn't believe your big brothers, the annoying one and the funny one, would be the ones who would do this to you. Both tried to explain the whole situation and apologised for keeping it hidden from you but it was stronger than you, you couldn't forgive them. Hobi was the first who tried to talk to you but, since you didn't want to meet or even see him, he send you a lot of messages instead, explaining to you his side of the story and it was matching to what Joonie told you a few days after by messages too. But their explanations hurt you more. From what you understood, your parents arranged your marriage the first day Joonie and you met but you didn't seem good enough for the young boy so his parents payed for all you lessons. How could your parents agree for that?! You couldn't believe that! But what Joonie told you after made you understand everything. Your dad worked as a bodyguard for Namjoon's father almost 10 years before you were born and, since his father always saw yours as a big brother, he wanted to do something for him. When he learned your mom gave birth to you, he proposed to marry you with his son, promising you would live like a princess, which was what your father wanted the most on Earth. So your parents agreed for this shit. Joonie knew it even before he met you and, to make his parents proud, he never said anything against the idea, playing his role until the end. But there was a problem: Hobi, your sun, the one who could make you smile without saying or doing anything. They were all afraid you could fall in love with your dear and sweet friend. Therefore, Joonie talked with him and told him everything about your parent's plan. Of course, Hoseok was mad at him and was against the idea of seeing you marry a man you didn't love the way your parents wanted to. He knew you liked Joonie, he knew you saw him as a big brother but nothing more. He couldn't accept this, he loved you too much to let you leave with Namjoon. At first, your moon thought that your sun was in love with you and wanted to take you away but it was more complicated that that and, after they fought, Hobi told him what he was feeling for you. Yes, your funny big brother loved you and wanted you to be the happiest girl in this world but he wasn't in love with you. What was between both of you was stronger than a simple friendship or love, it was inexplicable, nameless. And that was why you couldn't understand why he didn't tell you anything about the marriage, why he betrayed you. You were surrounded by liars, people who wanted to decide for you what your life would be but... You wouldn't let them. So, like said earlier, things went wrong, really wrong, for almost 4 years. You wanted to make them pay, to make them regret what they did to you and you knew the best way was to disappoint them more than they could imagine. Therefore, you started to hang out with bad people, fight and drink, keeping your grades as higher as possible to get your degree and leave far away. Oh and you also got a tattoo in your lower back that you proudly showed wearing low waist pants. Hobi tried to stop you once, saying you didn't have to do all this shitty things but you were so mad at him that you punched him right in the face, growling at him to stay away from you. Your parents also tried to set you straight, afraid that Namjoon's parents could cancel the marriage but your reaction caught them off guard. You weren't their little lovely girl anymore, you've changed and you just laughed in their faces. And you got what you wanted. After a year, Joonie's parents cancelled the marriage, saying their son couldn't marry someone like you. Someone like you... Haha! That sounded funny in your ears. They were the ones who wanted to manipulate your life without letting you know and you were the bad guy of the story? Yeah, really funny! "Miss, someone came to pay your bail." The cops informed you, opening your cell while you were lying down on the not so comfortable bed. "Get out and stop your shit." "Can I get candies if I'm a good girl?" You asked, grinning pretentiously and licking your lips. "Who's the dumbass who paid?" "Me. Again." A loud sigh parted your lips as you rolled your eyes and faced Namjoon. Why did he always have to be here when you were in trouble, or, more often, locked in the police station cell? For the seventh time in two months, he paid your bail and gave a deadly stare at the cops when the old man asked why a smart man like Namjoon was wasting his time with someone like you. "See you soon." You smirked to the cops, patting his shoulder and following Joonie outside. Enjoying the fresh night air, you stretched and lit up a cigarette but Namjoon took it quickly from your mouth and threw it away, telling you not to smoke. Rolling your eyes again and chuckling a bit, you lit another cigarette and started to walk away. "Thanks for the bail." You shouted without looking at him and lifting your middle finger. "Hope we don't meet ever again." You blew the smoke and checked your phone to see what time it was when Namjoon grabbed your arm and made you face him, throwing away your cigarette once again. Growling, you told him not to touch you and tried to take your arm away but he tightened his grip and without saying anything, forced you to follow him to the parking lot. "Get in the car." He urged you coldly, opening the passenger door of his luxurious car. "Now." "Or what? You'll tell my parents?" "Get in the car right now, Y/n." He then growled, looking straight into your eyes. You never saw him like that, you never saw so much anger in his mesmerising eyes and, you couldn't deny it, you were a bit afraid. You knew he wouldn't hit you but you also knew Namjoon's best weapon was words and there were some truths you didn't want to hear. Teeth clenched and swallowing, you got in his car and watched him walk to the other side and sit next to you. On the way to "You-didn't-know-where-the fuck-you-were-going", you looked at the city flashing before your eyes through the window, not daring to look at Joonie or saying anything. Actually, you didn't have to look at him to know or feel he was more than angry, his hands firmly gripped onto the steering wheel. He wanted to say something, he was easy to guess, he wanted to say that what you were doing was just bullshit and you were better than this but he knew you would laugh in his face. The city was far behind you and everything outside was dark when Namjoon parked his car in front of a small restaurant that was surprisingly still open at this hour. Furrowing, you looked at the sign then at the young man who got out of the car, telling you not to move. "Where do you want me to go, you stupid moon?" You grumbled, watching him entering the restaurant. It only took him a few minutes before he came back to the car, a paper bag in his hands, and from what you could smell, he bought hot noodles. "You drove up here for noodles?" You frowned while he was taking out two cups from the paper bag. "No." He replied, handing you a cup. "I came here to see my mother." "Your mother? Since when she's working in a rest-" "My real mother." You stared at him, eyes wide open. His real mother? What the... No, it was a joke, he was smirking, he was joking. But no, he wasn't and what he told you broke your heart more than it should be. Namjoon's parents, the ones you met, adopted him the day he was born but hid it from him until he was twelve. Then, when he was old enough to understand their actions, they told him his real mother was his adoptive one's best friend and that she got pregnant while she was dating an odd guy. Unfortunately, this odd guy ran away as soon as he knew about the baby and the woman found herself alone during her pregnancy knowing she couldn't take care of the baby on her own. But she knew her best friend couldn't have a baby even if it was what she wanted the most in this world. So they made a deal: When Namjoon would be born, Mr and Mrs Kim would adopt him. "When they told me about my story, they gave me my real mother's name and we met her here." He continued, looking straight at the restaurant. "I try to visit her as often as I can. She's a really good woman who works hard and, even if she don't earn a lot of money, she always sends me gifts for my birthdays and Christmas." You were in shock, mouth agape, staring at Namjoon who told you everything so calmly that you could hardly believe it was true. Moreover, you didn't understand why he told you about his story. He probably wanted to show you how stupid you were acting because of the arranged marriage, because of a lie. And, somehow, he was right but you were still to hurt from all the people who lied to you that you couldn't think properly. And it made you chuckle. Raising an eyebrow, Namjoon looked at you from the corner of his eyes and finished his noodles before starting his car and drove you back to the city. When he parked in front of your parent's house, he waited for you to get out of the car but you had another idea in mind. Without saying anything, a naughty grin across your lips, you crawled onto his lap and, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer to you, kissed him fervently. You thought you would catch him off guard but you opened your eyes wide when you felt him slide an arm around your lower back and a hand to your neck, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss even more. You were stupefied by how your bodies moved in a perfect harmony, how your tongues danced together with such synchrony, how your skin reacted at Namjoon's touch. By how your heart raced when you felt like you were his. You wanted more, so much more, but, before you could even realise, you put your hands on his chest and pulled away, out of breath and eyes wide open while he was contemplating your face, his tongue licking his lower lip slowly. "That was what you wanted, right?" You breathed, half angry, half needing for more. "No but I wouldn't say no." He smirked, sliding his hands on your hips. "And I'm glad I didn't." "Why are you doing this, Joonie?" You asked, sitting back on the passenger seat and pulling your hair back. "Why do you keep helping me when I'm in trouble? The marriage was cancelled. How long are you going to act like you care about me?" "Until you love me back." Back?

Namjoon's words had the effect of a bomb in your mind and heart. Until you loved him back? But he never loved you, you were just the girl he was going to have to marry because of your parents stupid deal. He couldn't... Or... You thought you'd go insane with all the questions that were turning in loop in your head. Questions... and memories. You couldn't forget this night, what you had learned, the kiss you gave him and the way Joonie gave it back to you, the contact of his hands on you, the way you felt in his arms and how he looked at you with some desire and love. Even when you tried to think about something else, the pictures of what happened in the car always came back right in front of your eyes, reminding you how much you wanted to live it over and over again. But, before you could take another step towards Namjoon, before you could ask for more, you needed to be more than sure about his and your feelings, about what both of you really wanted. And you knew who could help you but, unfortunately for you, the one who could help you to clean the mess your mind became was also one of the people you hurt the most. Would he agree to talk or see you? Did he even remember you? Sat at what was your table in your "full of people we don't know" secret base, heart racing and focused on the clock right above the counter, you were waiting for your sun, the light you chased away four years ago. Deep inside, you were hoping Hoseok would react like his uncle who smiled wide and took you in his arms when he saw you entering his bar. At this moment, you realised that, for four years, you also missed Hobi's uncle loud scent of coffee and tobacco. You missed so many things, actually. Everytime you heard the front door open, you jumped in your seat, heart about to burst out of your chest. But, everytime, there were just some customers and, after a hour, you stopped lifting your head up when the doorbell rang, keeping your head down and looking at the old pictures you still had on your phone. You remembered all of them, the exact moment when they were taken, the sound of your so dear friend's laugh when he checked your funny faces, the feelings you had when you were with him. "You tore your dress, this day." Someone said, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you lift your head up. "I had to stay shirtless because you took my shirt." "Hi, Hobi." You sadly smiled, remembering the funny anecdote and holding back your tears. "Hi Hobi?" He repeated, frowning. "That's all?! No hug?!" Without saying anything, you stood up and wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in his chest while he encased you in his arms, putting his chin on the top of your head. "Better." Hobi smiled, holding you tighter when he heard your muffled sobs. "Hey, don't cry, chunsa." "I'm sorry, Hobi, I'm so sorry for what I did." "Everyone need to do some mistakes to learn." Pulling away slowly, you whispered a "Thank you" and, together, sat at your table, catching up the four years you spent away from each other. That was when you realised you really missed a lot of things. Firstly, and the most surprising one to you, Hobi and Joonie became best friends after you dumped both of them. You literally choked on your beer when you heard that. Your sun and your moon, best friends, who would've thought? But it was true and Hobi explained that they were here for each other during good and hard times. Secondly, your sun was dating someone. You choked again but immediately asked who was the luckiest girl on Earth. Her name was Rebecca and she was a foreign student from his High School. You could see your friend's face light up when he was speaking about her and it made you smile. You were so glad to see him happy. Thirdly, Hoseok was close to accomplish his dream of becoming a dance teacher. You remembered all the times you saw him dance in front of you, flashing spectacular and so beautiful moves while you were looking at him, fascinated. You also learnt a couple of other things when he looked at you, planting his chin in his right hand. "That's pretty much it for now. What about you? Tell me all the stupids things I missed." "Oh, it'll take time." You chuckled, feeling the shame burning your cheeks. "Where to start? Hm, I got a tattoo in my lower back." "Please, tell me it's not a tribal one or a butterfly." Hobi mocked you, taking a sip of his beer. "No, a dolphin." You answered, laughing when he choked on his drink. "I'm kidding, it's a lotus flower with thorns. Better?" He nodded, visibly relieved. "What else? Oh, I know the Police station by heart, now." "Yes, Namjoon told me. Such a naughty girl." "Talking about him, do you know how he could guess? He showed up everytime I was in trouble." Letting an amused sigh parting his lips, Hobi smirked and leaned back against the red seat, his arms crossed on his chest. Of course, he knew and he found it a bit funny you didn't figure out. Namjoon followed you. Opening your eyes wide, not believing what you just heard, you shook your hands in front of you, saying it wasn't even possible. You were smart and noticed all the little details so you would see him if Namjoon followed you. Another chuckle from Hoseok. To him, you didn't change, you still were the innocent girl he knew for so long and who didn't understand anything when it came to herself. "He wasn't the one who followed you." Your sun started to explain. "He was, and still is, really busy with his studies and work so he hired someone. Every week, it was a new guy so you couldn't figure out your were followed. Such a smart Joonie." He smirked, taking another sip. "He never gave up on you, Y/n." He added, noticing the shocked expression across your face. "Even when his parents cancelled your marriage, he still loved you. Even when his parents forced him to date some rich girls that he dumped every time after a week. Even when his father threatened to disinherit him if he didn't marry someone after getting his degree. He never gave up on you." Your heart was hammering in your chest and before you could realise, tears rolled from your eyes, quickly wiped away by Hobi who softly smiled at you. Namjoon never gave up on you, he still loved you after all what happened, after all what you said and did. It sounded unbelievable but yet it was true. Unbelievable but true. Silently, your sun sat next to you, took your phone to add his number and sent you a message, only saying you would find Namjoon at this address. Eye wide open, you looked at your dear friend and wrapped your arms around his neck, thanking him for being the amazing man he was. Hoseok gave you back your hug and, pulling away, cupped your face in his hands, telling you to go find your moon.

"Joonie! Your mother wants to know if we can visit her tomorrow!" You shouted from the living room, your hand on the speaker of the phone. "Which one?" He replied from the bathroom. "Does it matter?" "Yes, I want to eat noddles!" "Perfect, she's that one!" "We can!" Chuckling, you put the phone back against your ear and let Namjoon's biological mother know that you both would see her on the day after before you bid her goodnight and hung up, looking forward to see her again. Honestly, your life felt like a dream since a month ago, since you got married to Namjoon and moved in with him. Even if it was a long hard road, you finally put your life together and lived the life you wanted. For more than a year, you had to prove to Joonie's parents you deserved their son so you resumed all your old lessons, fixed all the mess you did during four years, apologised to all the people you hurt or disrespected (Hi, Mr Cop!) and showed the best part of yourself. During this "test year", you weren't allowed to date Namjoon and you could see him only two times a month. And not alone. It was hard, really hard, but, luckily, you had Hobi to help you. Hobi and someone else, someone you met during these hard times, someone you liked at first sight, someone who always cheered you up. Namjoon's biological mother. This woman was the sweetest person on Earth and when you looked at her, you could see why Joonie was so handsome. Honestly, his mom could be a model but, like she told you once, she never was interested by the glamorous life. She didn't want to be rich and lived with just what she needed. She was so humble and her strength helped you to get through this hard year. And you made it! After exactly 400 days, you were allowed to get married to Namjoon. It wasn't a big celebration, both of you didn't want an expensive ceremony, and you only invited some members of your families and friends. The man who would become your husband chose Hoseok and two others friends, Yoongi and Seokjin, as best men and, surprising everyone, you chose your mom and Namjoon's both mothers as you maids. You let some tears roll onto your cheeks when Joonie said his vows, tears that he softly wiped away with his thumbs, and felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest when you finally said "Yes". "At least, your parents' deal worked out." Your sun whispered in your ear when everyone was talking to each other during the post-marriage party. "Oh gosh, it was a trap!" You said, faking a shocked face before smirking at him. "Guess what, Hobi. I'm glad it did." You chuckled together when Namjoon joined you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and teased Hoseok by trying to take you away. Shrugging, your best friend replied that he was stronger than him and, winking at you, added you both still had your secret base. The three of you laughed together and enjoyed the rest of the party with your friends and families. So yes, your life was a dream the past month and you couldn't ask for more because you already had everything you wanted. Well, almost everything... But you were determined to get the last "thing" this night and nothing on Earth could stop you. Looking at the city through the window of your apartment, you saw the bathroom door open in the reflection of the glass but said nothing when you noticed Namjoon, who was wearing only his black pj pants, coming towards you. Kissing and putting his chin on your shoulder, your husband wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close to him, asking what you were thinking about. "Are you going to sleep in the guest room again, tonight?" You replied, sliding your hands on his and tilting your head against his. "I thought it would be better if-" "Better?" You cut him off, chuckling. "Namjoon, you're my husband now and I want us to sleep in the same bed. I want to sleep in your arms." You whispered the last phrase looking at him in the reflection of the window. "Are you sure?" He softly asked, leaving other kisses in your neck and also looking straight at you in the reflection. "Take off my robe." Teeth clenched and swallowing discreetly, Namjoon grabbed the belt of your long silk pearly robe and lifted his hands up to your shoulders before sliding them all along your arms, letting the cloth silently fall on the floor. You couldn't help but shiver at his touch, at the way his was running his fingers on your skin before grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. Saying he loved the black and red lingerie you were wearing would be an understatement, it made him go crazy and it was easy to guess because of the growing bulge you could feel through his pj pants. "So, that's what was in your mind?" Your husband murmured against your shoulder, kissing it softly. "Well, since I've been bad girl for four years-" "You deserve to be punished." He cut you off, raising his eyes and staring straight at your face through the reflection of the window. "But you've been a very, very bad girl." "Joonie, plea-" He didn't give you the time to plead, turning you to him and pushing you against the window, his lips furiously sealed on yours while his hands grabbed your cheeks. Immediately, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, your fingers tightly gripped through his hair. A loud moan escape from your throat and you bite your lower lip when Namjoon started to kiss your jawline then your neck before sinking his teeth in your skin like a thirsty vampire. "Joonie... I need more..." You begged him, desperately trying to rub your hips against his. "It's Mr Kim for you tonight." He growled in your ear. "But don't worry, you'll get what you deserve." He then tightened his embrace around you and carried you into your room, unclasping your bra and throwing it in the hallway. A smirk stretched the corner of your lips when, putting you on the bed, Namjoon told you, or rather, ordered you, to get on all fours. Still smirking, and knowing you would finally get what you were craving for, you slowly crawled onto the bed and sensuously pressed your chest against the mattress, lifting your ass up and giving your husband a beautiful and so exciting sight. A shiver went through your whole body when he grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them before abruptly pulling your ass against his pelvis. You couldn't help but whine and bite the pillow when Namjoon slid a hand under your underwear and started to rub two fingers between your folds. "I've just started and you already that wet." He smirked, slowly shoving his fingers inside your core and pulling them out, holding a chuckle as he saw you shake your butt, your head sunk in the pillow. "Such a needy girl." "Joo-" "Mr Kim, I said!" He angrily cut you off, smacking your right cheek and making you scream in the pillow. Leaning over you, his slid his other hand around your neck and lifted you up a little. "Did I tell you to stay quiet?" He then growled in your ear, putting you back against the mattress. "Let me hear you scream, Mrs Kim." Second smack, first scream. "Better." He grinned, giving you another spank and earning another scream before inserting his fingers back on you. "So wet." "Please, Mr Kim." You begged again, gripping the sheets. "Please." Licking his lips at the pleasure it gave him to see you like that, he started to move his fingers in and out of you, fastening the pace slowly as you moaned louder and louder. Never in his life, Namjoon would have imagined you being so needy for him, craving for his touch and, he couldn't deny he was pretty proud of himself. He finally got the girl of his dreams, he even had married her and now, she made him understand she wanted to be his. Totally his. Feeling the overwhelming desire getting stronger in him, and in his pants, Namjoon pulled out his fingers one more time and raised them to his mouth to suck them. "Delicious." He breathed heavily before suddenly pushing you on your side and making you roll on your back. "Don't you dare not look at me." He advised you, sliding your underwear along your legs and throwing it away. Grinning like a demon, he stuck his head between your thighs and locked his lips to your core, making you close your eyes as you throw your head back. "I said look at me." He growled once again, biting your inner thigh. "Or I stop." "Oh God, no!" You implored, looking immediately straight at him and meeting his eyes. They were so full of hunger that you almost came. "Don't you dare cum before I tell you to." Namjoon smirked like he could read your mind before eating you out again, his eyes attached to yours. You didn't know if it was because of the way Namjoon pulled his tongue in and out of you or the way he was looking at you, probably both, but you felt dozens of electric shocks through your body and trying not to throw your head back again was the hardest thing on Earth. You were so close from your high and Namjoon felt it by the way your walls were clenching around his tongue. Sure you would reach your high in less than a minute, he ran a hand all along your bust and grabbed your left breast while he pushed two fingers back into your core, sucking you out. By a slight movement of his head, he made you understand you were finally allowed to cum. "Fuck!" You gasped, gripping the sheets harder and tossing your head back, arching on the bed. Another wave of electric shocks washed over your whole body and you couldn't help yourself but scream your husband's name as you reached your climax. His eyes still on you, not wanting to miss any of your expressions, Namjoon swallowed every drop of what tasted like sweet honey in his mouth and, after wiping his lips, crawled over you when he felt your body ease slowly. Even if you were out of breath, the proud smirk you saw on your husband's lips made you chuckle a little and you were about to say you didn't really expect that but he shut your mouth with his, making you open your eyes wide in surprise. "Did you really think it was already over?" Namjoon grinned against your lips, undressing himself before grabbing your ass and pulling you against his member. He then wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you up, setting both of you in a sitting position, his eyes contemplating your face while your arms were coiled around his neck. "So beautiful." Namjoon murmured, moving softly strands of your hair from your face and kissing you tenderly. "I love you, Joo... Mr Kim." You slightly chuckled, breaking the kiss and looking straight in his eyes. A sweet smile stretched Namjoon's lips but disappeared almost immediately when, after lifting your ass and lowering one of your hands, you grabbed his shaft and pumped it few times. Tightening his hold around your waist, he sunk his face in your neck and bite your collar bone when you slowly started to go down around him. You couldn't help yourself but smirk when you heard some moans escape from his throat, letting you know you were doing it the right way. "Don't you dare not look at me." You teased him, running your fingers in his hair and pulling strongly on it, lifting his head up before kissing him aggressively. Pretty proud of you because the nasty girl you were thought she was in control, you smirked again against his lips but you were so far from the truth. Namjoon wouldn't give you that pleasure and grinned when you screamed his name after he lifted you up a little before smashing you back down on him. Looking back at him with eyes wide open, you bit your bottom lip and let him decide on the pace, without noticing the tears that started to roll down along your cheeks. Softly, Namjoon wiped your tears away and asked you if it hurt you and if you wanted to stop but you shook your head, whispering you were okay as you leaned over him and kissed him again. Of course, it was hurting but it was the kind of pain you wanted to feel for so long that nothing on Earth could stop you, could stop the hunger that was consuming you. Even less the fast and rough pace Namjoon settled after a few seconds before he hit your sensitive spot and made you whine louder and louder. "Fuck! I'm so close!" Namjoon growled, his eyes straight on yours while he was feeling your walls clench around him. "I'm so... so... Oh fuck!" He cursed, thrusting harder inside your core before coming inside of you as you reached your high in the second after, kissing him again as it was a matter of life or death. You weakly moaned as he pistoned in and out of you a few more times before lying you down on the bed and pulling away softly, making sure not to hurt you. Eyes closed and hands on your chest, feeling like your heart would burst through your rib cage, you heard your husband leaving the bed then the room without saying anything and coming back few minutes later. The contact of a warm but wet towel against your painful core made you gasp but you almost immediately sighed in pleasure, feeling Namjoon cleaning you up softly and kissing your left thigh. Tossing the towel away, Namjoon put a slight kiss right above your sensitive area then on your stomach, going up slowly before capturing your lips in the sweetest way and returning to your belly to put his head on it. Gently, you ran your fingers through your husbands hair and smiled when you felt him sigh in pleasure, his breath caressing your skin while his hands were drawing smooth circles on your hips. "Are you pleased, Mrs Kim?" He asked, lifting his head up and looking at you, smirking slightly. "More than I could imagine." You answered, softly grabbing his head and bringing his lips back to yours. Namjoon pulled away slowly, kissed your forehead and lied down next to you, making you roll on your side, an arm slid under your head while the other was around your waist, drawing little circles around your bellybutton. Softly sliding your hand on his, you let a smile stretch your lips when you felt him nuzzle his nose in your neck, holding your closer to him. "I love your tattoo, by the way." Namjoon smirked, leaving a sweet kiss behind your ear. A shiver went down your spine when his breath ran on your skin and you knew your husband was doing this on purpose. He wanted to play and, fortunately for him, you loved this game. And you were ready to play for the whole night. After all, you had so many years to catch up...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ⁓•⁓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Thank you for reading! 💜 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⁓•⁓

[jinmukangwrites]

Flower

A fic in celebration of Mother’s day. Happy Mother’s day everyone :)

Summary: Just because it hurts doesn’t mean it has to be painful.

-o-o-o-o-

There are some things that are just not easily forgotten. How to ride a bike, is one example, but there are other examples, ones much more significant than riding a bike. He will always remember the first time he put on the Nightwing suit. It was ugly as hell but the feeling of… accomplishment and self reliance was enough for him to puff out his chest in pride. There's the first kiss he had with Barbara, the first girl he's ever kissed. He was so nervous, he missed, but she missed too and they still laugh about it to this day. He remembers the first night with Kori, how he'd never felt more alive.

There's the time he visited the manor to see a black haired boy named Jason stuffing his face with waffles, the time the words big brother applied to him for the first time in his life. He remembers crying that night, he's always wanted a little brother.

He will never forget flying, there's not a single moment where he's hurtling himself through the air that he doesn't remember. The weightlessness from swinging from one rope to another, the way butterflies flutter in his chest when gravity takes over. The feeling of hitting the net, rolling on the pavement, shooting another line; those moments will always remain so clear to him. Though, none of them compare to the first time he flew, the first time his mom took his hand and helped him up that three story ladder and told him that he is her little Robin, and today he gets his wings. He couldn't have been more than five years old, yet the trust he had when he saw his father hanging on a trapeze handle in the middle of the course, hands outstretched, ready to catch, was so real. His mom showed him how to hold the handle without hurting his hands, she told him when to let go, when to kick. She looked worried, but his dad's face was turning red from hanging upside down and Dick knew he had to go sooner rather than later.

He flailed, let go, missed, and landed on that net laughing so hard his chest hurt.

There are so many things he will never forget, though not all of them good. The anger he felt when Bruce died. The helplessness when Blockbuster blew up his house, the horror when Kori broke up with him for the worst reason, the shame for being a bad leader to the Outsiders, the fear when Jayson came back bad.

Though, there is one memory he knows, without a doubt, he will never forget. It was one of the hardest days on his life, though it was the day he also realized that he has a family in Bruce, in Alfred.

It was his first Mother's Day without his mom.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything hurts, Dick decides. His eyes from the lack of sleep, his back from being shoved roughly into the lockers two days prior, his cheeks that he's rubbed raw on his pillow, his heart from the lonely aching that will not go away. He didn't think it would be this hard. Even back at the circus they didn't make a big deal out of holidays. On Mother's Day, his dad would come in and give his mom a kiss and a flower while Dick stumbled in with a tray of pancakes. She would laugh and hug them, he can still smell the strawberries in her hair, and then they continue the day like normal.

So it shouldn't hurt this bad. It should be just like any other Sunday. He should be able to get out from his covers, get dressed, and be normal, except every time he thinks about getting up his limbs seem to grow ten times heavier.

The last day of school before the weekend had to be the hardest he's ever had. He's never hated school since Bruce took him in, yes there were the elitist bullies and teachers that tried to kiss up to him to get to Bruce, but he has friends there and he loves his classes. It's fun to go out and become a normal teenager, instead of coming home and being Master Dick, instead of going to parties and being cute little Richard, instead of jumping out into the night and being Robin. Dick, that's all he is at school. Or what he thought so.

It doesn't matter where you go to school or what grade you're in, one or two teachers will have projects and activities for any holidays. Dick was lucky to end up with teachers of his own that had stupid projects like "Write a letter to your mom!" or "when you're finished with the assignment, come plant a seed in a paper cup of cheap dirt from Walmart and give it to your mom when you get home!"

He could feel the stares piercing his neck, sending shivers up his spine and curling his toes. Even the teachers were starting at him, looks full of pity as if they were regretting even making the assignments. That day he wasn't Dick, he was the poor ward of Bruce Wayne whose parents died tragically at the circus. He was motherless, parentless. The teachers couldn't even tell him to write to his dad instead, though one did suggest he do the activity for Bruce instead, and that was something Dick didn't want to think about. Brice isn't his dad, or his mom, or any parent. He's just a guardian, that's it.

During lunch, he sits with a girl named Barbara. That's the only time he felt normal that day, because she was having a hard time too. She doesn't have a mom as well, so they were both miserable that day. At least she got to cross out the words "MOM!" on that stupid cup of dirt and write "dad". They were in the middle of avoiding the topic when a group of kids came over. Dick instantly recognized them as the children of various wealthy families around Gotham. They thought they were so much better because they had money, and now they thought they were better because they had their parents.

"Hey Dickhead, who did you write that letter to in English?"

"I bet he wrote it to one of Bruce Wayne's girlfriends."

"No, I bet he wrote it to Bruce himself."

"That's so gross!"

Usually, Dick would fight back, but this time, something heavy settled in his chest and he quickly got up and left before he could sink to the ground from the weight and cry.

The rest of the day he was made fun of because poor Dick Grayson has no mother.

The light in his room suddenly flicks on and he hisses and buries himself deeper into the covers. He can hear the gentle footsteps of Alfred and he wants to groan. What time is it?

"Master Dick, I do hope you're not planning on staying in bed all day."

Dick mumbles out a response that even he didn't understand. Alfred let's out a tut and walks up to the bed and throws off the covers. Dick curls up as the cool air hits his body. "You missed breakfast," Alfred says casually as he walks to the window to open the curtains, "lunch is in one hour. I expect you to be there."

The words or else went unsaid. Dick doesn't know what Alfred would do to him if he skips out on two out of three meals, but Dick does know he doesn't want to find out. Whatever the case, Alfred leaves with a quick goodbye and reminder to be at lunch, he leaves the door open.

Dick groans.

Thirty minutes later, Dick stumbles down the stairs and into the dining room somewhat put together. His clothes are from the day before and his hair is sort of a mess, but Alfred can't complain. At least Dick got up.

He sits down at the dining table and Alfred gives him a exasperated look before he sets down a cup of coffee in front of him. Bruce is across the table, sipping on his own life-bringing-juice and reading the morning newspaper. The smell of something cooking wafted in from the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, Dick," Bruce says and Dick grunts in response.

There's the ruffling of paper as Bruce turns a page and Dick finds himself slowly sinking so his head on laying on the table. He's so tired. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep for the last two days, with Robin and his own mind keeping him up. He's so, so tired.

He hasn't noticed his eyes slipped closed until Alfred placed a steaming plate next to his head. He jerks up and Alfred almost snorts and goes to place a plate by Bruce.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce says. He pokes his head above the newspaper and looks at Dick with one eyebrow raised.

Dick clears his throat. "Ah yeah, thanks."

"You're very welcome, sirs. Now, eat up, we have places to be today."

Brice nods and puts the newspaper down and Dick has to double take at what he sees. If Dick thought his own hair was messy, Bruce's hair is completely untamed and wild. There's bags under his eyes, almost illuminating his dark blue eyes. He looks spent, like he has no energy left to even pick up his fork and start eating. The meal on Bruce's plate also throws Dick through the loop. Crepes. Little pastry versions of tortillas rolled up around cream cheese and piled up with bananas, blueberries, and strawberries, topped off with a mountain of whipped cream and blackberry syrup. To the side is scrambled eggs cooked a perfect golden, glistening. Dick whips his head down to his own plate and just stares as the exact same meal meats his sight.

He was expecting a sandwich.

Then, the most crazy thing happens; Bruce sets his mug down and stabs his fork into the crepe.

"Master Dick, is your meal not to your liking?" Alfred suddenly asks, the corner of his mouth is lifted quizzingly, like Alfred knows something Dick doesn't. Which is a very possible thing to happen. Dick has discovered in the few months he's lived in the manor that Alfred knows all, sees all.

Then, something clicks in his head. Bruce was drinking coffee, in the middle of the day. Alfred made a very breakfast-y meal for lunch. Bruce looks like he just woke up.

Alfred let them both sleep in.

Dick would wonder why, but his stomach growls. "Um, no, thank you Alfred. It looks good."

Alfred hums in content and Dick turns down and takes a small bite of the very sugary meal that Bruce would never eat normally. It's delicious—of course it is, Alfred made it—and soon the meal is gone. Bruce's plate is halfway finished and Bruce stands up to leave, excusing himself. Alfred sighs and collects the dishes. "You best be off and get ready," Alfred says, "we leave in thirty."

"For what?"

A sad look droops on Alfred's face. "We're going to visit your mother's."

-o-o-o-o-

When Dick sees Bruce all freshened up and in a nice suit, Dick almost regrets slipping on a somewhat clean t-shirt and basketball shorts. Alfred is also in a suit, and he gives Dick a disappointed look but Dick ignores it and clutches his backpack a little closer to him. When he was in the circus, he never had a suit. All he had was what he could stuff in a truck next to his parents' meager belongings. His parents never cared for makeup and perfume and nice dresses, and Dick didn't feel right visiting them all spruced up and wealthy.

In Alfred's hands are two bundles of flowers and Dick… felt something tear in his chest. One had beautiful hydrangea flowers of all colors mixed with the most perfect looking roses Dick has ever seen and the other… the other had simple snapdragons and baby's breath. Dick doesn't know how Alfred knew that those are... were his mother's favorite, but it made him almost want to crumple down and cry right there.

He remembers, when he was very little, his mother and father took him out to buy him a gift for his birthday at a local retail store. He was looking at the Legos and action figures when his mother gasped and walked into the garden center where they had an assortment of colorful snapdragons.

"Dicky, baby look," his mother said and kneeled down next to the flowers. His father was chuckling as Dick curiously and skeptically waddled towards his mom and stood next to her.

"What?" He asked.

"Watch this," she said. Her grin was so wide it was practically splitting her face. She reached forward and placed her hands around the flowers stem and gently pinched. The flower seemed to open its mouth like a dragon. "Hello Dick! I'm Mr Flower!" She said in a gravely monster voice, moving the flower as if it were talking. Dick laughed and she helped him place his own fingers on the flower and test it out for himself.

"These are mommy's favorite," his dad said and knelt down next to them to playfully pinch the flower himself. "She likes childish things."

"Simple. I like simple things," she corrected. "I like baby's breath and that isn't a childish flower."

"It has "baby" in the name, honeybutt."

"Oh be quiet."

In the end, Dick chose to take home a pot of red snapdragons and planted them outside their trailer. He wonders if they're still there in that festival park clearing, or of they've died too.

Walking to the Wayne graveyard is like walking to your own grave. It's filled with morbidity and a weird gut wrenching feeling that makes Dick want to curl his arms over his stomach and fight the urge to vomit. It's not like he hasn't visited the yard before, it just hurts a whole lot today for some unexplainable reason.

They follow along a path carefully constructed into the grass, flowers and bushes line the sides and beautiful trees are planted so it's almost like they're walking through a mystical forest, but Dick isn't appreciating the view, he's dreading the moment he sees the first gray colored stone.

And it doesn't take long. The Wayne's have been around for a very long time. There are gravestones dating back to the 19th century, the graveyard is massive, it's almost the size of a normal city's graveyard actually, except the graves here are so aged. All of them except a few new ones.

They walk to those new ones.

Bruce stops in front of the two largest ones, stone in perfect condition and flowers already sitting at the feet, looking only a day old. Alfred hands the more elegant flowers to Bruce and Bruce silently bends down to replace the old flowers on Martha Wayne's Grave. He steps back and tightens his jaw, looking down at the grave stone with his face half obscured in shadow. Alfred quietly walks over to Dick and holds out the other bundle of flowers.

Dick looks away over towards the newest additions of the graveyard sat. Everyone here are Wayne's, but these two are different, two Grayson's in a sea of someone else's family. He thinks about how wrong that is. His father wanted to be sent off in a boat on the river, set alight, like the Vikings, he joked. His mother wanted her ashes spread over the white cliffs of Dover and into the wind, so she could be with the ocean forever. Dick doesn't think he told anyone that when it happened. He was too busy mourning, so when Bruce offered to have his parents buried in the Wayne Graveyard, Dick didn't refuse. He should have.

There's flowers on his parents graves and he wonders who put them there because he certainly hasn't. Alfred can't have done it himself, he has the manor and the gardens and the horses and so many things to take care of, he would have no time to make a trip to the graveyard to place flowers on the graves of a not even adopted child's dead parents. Dick is just a ward. Why would Alfred do that?

Alfred makes a noise and Dick turns to Alfred's face instantly falls when he sees Dick. Dick wonders why until he feels a streak of water drip down his cheek and onto the group and beneath him. Alfred walks forward and embraces Dick in a bone crushing hug and Dick can only clutch at Alfred's suit jacket and try to keep his shoulders from jolting from the sobs trying to claw themselves out.

"You're okay, my boy," Alfred whispers, "you're okay."

Dick doesn't feel okay. He feels broken, like a piece of him was torn out from his chest and buried in those graves too. He's feels torn and there's no way to put himself back together. He shouldn't be here. He should be on his way to Berlin, or Rome, or Cleveland, or Hong Kong with the rest of the circus, practicing his flips and the show with his parents. He should be handing his mother pancakes in bed and his dad should be offering flowers. Not this. Not this terrible aloneness where he's the one placing the flowers down to a person decaying six feet under the ground.

The first hiccuping sob escapes his throat and then the dam bursts and he can't control it. It hurts so much, and he doesn't understand why. He's been here before, he's sat in front of those graves for hours talking away about school and Wally and Superman and his mission in Amsterdam or somewhere else. He's cried, but it hasn't felt like Harley bludgeoned him in the chest. Why does it hurt so much?

Another warm body wraps itself around Dick, as if it were trying to help keep Dick together as Dick falls apart.

"I have this," a deep voice says and Dick finds himself being lowered to the ground and gathered into the arms of none other than Bruce Wayne. Alfred steps back, holding the bundle of snapdragons and babies breath in reverence.

Bruce has never shown any kind of… affection or emotion like this towards Dick before. There's never been a hug, never anything like that. When Robin does well, it's a ruffle of hair or a pat on the back. When Dick goes to bed it's a simple wave, when he leaves to school it's a nod, never a hug. Nothing like this.

Dick is weeping something ugly, he's clutching to Bruce like he's the last thing keeping Dick from sinking into the dirt himself, pressing his head against his chest and probably staining the suit with his snot, spit, and tears. He thinks he's screaming, or he may just be mumbling incoherently, he doesn't know at this point.

It hurts so, so much. There's no way to describe the pain. The hand carding through his hair doesn't help, the arms, the chest, the soothing words, they aren't helping at all, but soon, Dick finds himself calming down, his breaths evening out, his eyes starting to see again though the tears.

"That's right, chum," Bruce is saying, Dick wonders how long he's been talking, "calm down, even breaths."

Dick swallows and does as he's told, he closes his eyes and let's one last tear slip out.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Dick whispers.

Bruce sighs and clutches onto Dick tighter for a second. Dick doesn't know what to make of it. He's never seen this side of Bruce Wayne.

"No," Bruce says, not one to lie. Dick can feel that word shoot into his soul as clearly as he can feel the rumble in Bruce's chest as he speaks. Bruce lost his parents, they were shot right in front of him when he was younger than Dick. He's never stopped hurting, never stopped feeling that agony, that emptiness, those should haves, those what ifs. If the Batman is still aching, what hope does Dick have? "But that's not a bad thing, chum."

"I don't understand," Dick says.

Bruce sighs. "When it stops hurting, it means you've forgotten them."

Dick closes his mouth and thinks about those words for a few seconds, and thinks some more, trying to make sense of them.

"But, it doesn't have to be… painful," Bruce continues, "you keep their memory and do something with it. You don't have to be alone, Dick, you have me and Alfred here to help you. Do you understand?"

"I… think so."

"Good. How does ice cream sound?"

Dick looks up from his nestled position and gave Bruce a confused look. "What?"

Bruce smiles, and Dick can tell that it's genuine… because he's never seen that smile before. "Ice cream. It'll cheer us all up."

Dick is about to nod. Ice cream sounds heavenly, maybe he can convince Bruce to take him to Cold Stone uptown where they have a special limited edition sour patch flavored ice cream and he can get one of those waffle bowls… but he looks past Bruce's shoulder and he sees the gravestone with his mother's name carved into it and he sucks in a breath, trying to keep the tears from escaping again.

"Yeah, but... In a second."

Bruce hums and helps Dick return to his feet, seemingly already knowing what Dick was thinking. Dick wouldn't be surprised if he did, he is the best detective in the world after all. Dick walks over to to his backpack he has brought with him and digs into it, he pushes aside the books and binders and stops at a little cup of dirt he had carefully placed inside a few days prior. His teacher said he didn't have to plant a flower seed, but Dick just felt the need to. He takes it out and holds it in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world, despite it being a simple cup that held a daisy seed.

He smiles at Alfred and takes the bundle of flowers and walks over to his mother's grave. He sets down the snapdragons and babies breath and picks up the old flowers before he digs out a small handful of dirt and places the daisy seed inside, covering it up carefully.

It hurts, but it doesn't have to be painful. What a strange sentence that makes complete sense. He looks behind him and stands up, sniffling as a few stubborn tears try to break through.

"Okay," he says, his voice breaking only slightly, "can we go to Cold Stone?"

Bruce smiles and brings an arm around Dick's shoulders, bringing him in for a half hug. "Of course, chum."

Somehow, that daisy plant grows and flourishes over the years. The leaves are a pure white, the center a bright, golden yellow. The year after that, Dick plants some red snapdragons, the year after, some daffodils, and it continues.

But that first mother's day, Dick doesn't ever forget. Even now, as an adult with too many siblings to number, with so many years in a different family that they outnumber the time he's spent with his first, the hurt never goes away. Bruce was right, it doesn't ever stop hurting, but something about going out and living his life, something about planting a new flower or weeding around old ones, or talking with Jason or joking with Cass, he finds that it isn't painful.

"Happy Mother's Day," Dick says, leaving a bundle of flowers on his mother's grave. He stands up and pats Damian on the shoulder and ruffles Tim's hair.

"Now, who wants ice cream?"

-o-o-o-o-

Written for my Batfam discord’s weakly prompt “Mother’s Day”, if you’re interested in joining the discord, just message me and I’ll send you the invite <3

[hollandroos]

Blow a kiss, Fire a Gun | Pt.3

Teaser Pt.1 Pt.2 | TOM HOLLAND MOB AU

Do you guys prefer a shorter (2k-2.5k) post ever 2-3 days or a longer post (3-4k) every 4 days?

Words: 2.6K

Summary: You’re arranged to marry Tom Holland, Londons most feared mobster, but it’s never easy. He doesn’t seem to want you and you don’t want anything to do with him.

For the longest time, Tom only knew what it was like to be controlling, demanding and overall cruel. He ran the biggest mob in all of London so the boy didn’t have time for fun. He couldn’t just go bowling with his mates on the weekends or spend the early hours of the morning in a pub, downing unacceptable amounts of alcohol, no matter how much he wanted too in the earlier years. His life consisted of keeping a straight face and keeping everything under control. The only thing he hadn’t had control over was you, and now that he’d met you he doubted you were the type to go ahead and submit to him.

Over the last couple of days, he’d learnt your schedule, he’d worked out typically what time you got out of bed, ate your meals if you ever visited the library etc and he worked out how to dodge you. It wasn’t that. No, he definitely wasn’t a fan of this at all, despite the flirty, confident front he put up. There was something about you but Tom was not prepared to get off of his high horse just yet.

Shutting the lid of his laptop and shoving the pens back in their holder, Tom looked up at his father who had been patiently sitting on the other side of the desk for the last five minutes, waiting for his son to finish whatever important business he was attending.

Tom could easily remember being a kid, sitting behind his father's desk and watching the way his father acted. Taking in exactly how he spoke to his men and dealt with those that did him wrong. He would sometimes sit downstairs eagerly, waiting for his father to finish a meeting so that he could learn all about it, who did them wrong or if any new deals had come up. His parents use to say that Tom was a born leader, always taking the front stand.

But Tom also watched how his father interacted with his family, around Nicki and Dom had tried to teach his son that there was a line between work and family. There was a time and place to be closed off, and there was a time and place to be loving. So he didn’t understand how his son had turned out so stone cold.

“Tom, you have an important event coming up and I was hoping you’d take Y/N” Dom ignored the way his son tensed. “She hasn’t left the house since she came here days ago” He truly did look up to his father, but sometimes he wondered why.

Dom fiddled with one of the objects Tom kept on his desk. Tom favoured his office, it was secluded, a room that he controlled who could come in and out of and one that he preferred to spend most of his days in.

Tom shrugged, wanting to try and end the conversation as quickly as possible but with his father, he knew that this could be as long or as short as he desired. “She can leave anytime she wants.”

“With what, Thomas? A car?” Dom knew he was right, the poor girl didn’t have any sorts of transportation, despite Tom probably owning one or more too many cars. “Take her out, get to know her and who knows, maybe you’ll hit it off”

“What happens then? We live happily ever after like you and mum?” Dom flinched slightly as Tom stood up, smacking his hands down on the desk. “News flash, father, Y/N and I were forced together because of a stupid contract that we couldn’t worm ourselves out of, you and Mom fell in love”

“This girl is really making an impression isn’t she?” The tension in the room was unreal and it made Dom nod because in one way or another, you were getting to Tom. Whether it was frustrating him beyond the point of acceptance or slowly making your way into his heart. “What’s going to happen when we need someone to take over the mob? This job was given to you, Tom. Not Sam or Harry. It’s your job to keep it going, don’t forget that I can replace you with one of them with the snap of my fingers.”      

“We’re not talking about kids-”

“You had years to prepare yourself for this, boy. Years to sleep around and do whatever the hell you wanted but it’s real now, You can either accept her and make this girl a part of your life or pretend that she doesn’t exist, make her just another person under your roof and live a miserable life.” He stopped there, deciding that it was too soon to tell Tom about the other part of the contract.

“I’ll take her to the event, but don’t expect us to be in love by tomorrow… or at all”

“You tell me this now, boy, but I give up a few months and you’ll be on your knees for her”

Tom simply rolled his eyes, taking a sip of the cold coffee he’d had sitting in his office for the last hour and grimaced. He didn’t fall to his knees for anyone. Dom on the other hand, felt elated. It was early days but he could already see his plan working, the same one that’d been years in the making.

“If it isn’t the troublemaker”

You spun around, placing the cereal box down and facing Harrison. He wore a cocky smirk, one that reminded you oddly of Tom. Tom, you hadn’t seen him in days. “Ahh, it’s the sidekick, nice to see you again”

You walked out of the kitchen, heading over to the couch in the living room that only seemed to be bigger than your previous home..“If we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other you may as well call me Harrison”

“We’ll see, I don’t expect to be here for long” You placed a spoon in your bowl and sat next to Harrison on the couch. You looked up to see that he was watching Magic Mike and snickered.

He faced you, pausing the movie. “What? Wanna see the real thing?”

You’d gotten used to his playful banter over the last few days, often brushing past him in the living room that still managed to blow your mind. It was an elegant room with two grey couches, large flat screen tv and a coffee table. There were, of course, a few other accents that you haven't paid too much attention too yet.

“Go for it” You knew it was a joke, this was merely a conversation with a flirty undertone, nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t hard to tell that Harrison was fit underneath his clothing, the boy was like a walking god.

“I think Tom would snap my neck if I did that, he’s very protective over what’s his”

You stopped your movements, screwing up your face when Harrison labelled you as Tom’s as if you were nothing but an object. Harrison said it as if it were nothing. It made you angry, an emotion that you was far too common at this point. Placing your half-eaten bowl of cereal on the table, you turn towards him.

“I’m not his, I never will be”

Harrison noticed your sudden anger and twisted his eyebrows. “I mean, you are his wife and in his books-”

“His books are irrelevant” The movie was now forgotten as you tried to forget what Harrison had just said.

“Whose books are irrelevant?” A new voice said, both of you looked towards the door to see Tom leaning against it, making Harrison stand up but you stayed seated. Toms' eyes bored into the two of you accusingly and you couldn’t deny the shiver that ran through you. He still frightened you, but still, your walls stayed up.

You asked yourself how much he’d heard, whether or not he actually thought of you as his and if he’d really snap Harrison's neck if he made a move, but still, a remark fell from your lips.

“Does it matter?” Tom found your sarcasm almost inviting, nodding his head at Harrison who got up, giving you a curt nod before walking out, leaving you alone with the same person that you’d been trying to ignore for days, not so unbeknownst to you he’d been dodging you too.

You definitely didn’t hate Harrison, he seemed like a fun person to be around and you could only ask yourself how he got himself situated with Tom.

“What’ve you been up too, princess?” You shrugged, ignoring his gaze. “I have something to ask you”

Your eyes widened, mouth drying up because god he could want anything from you and chances were that he could get it. Who knew that after your antics the other day you’d be straight back at square one, stuttering and flustering under his gaze.

Being alone with Tom wasn’t like how it was three days ago. Then, you wanted to get on his nerves but now, you didn’t want to push your luck.

“I have an event coming up in two days and according to my father, I need a date”

Of course, he needs to play happy families. “Why don’t you ask one of your other women?”

“Sweetpea, you’re my only lady” You rolled your eyes, not falling for his words. He surely had a line of woman at the door, waiting for his instructions and you refused to be one of the ones that’d fall to their knees for him.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

You noticed how the red and black striped shirt hugged his muscles, the shirt tightening whenever he tensed. Tom was surely attractive, beyond that even but he was also terrifying, alarming and sent bundles of nerves down your spine when he so much as glanced at you the wrong way.

“Then you can sit here and moop all you like, I’m not stopping you but I thought you’d like to go out”

Every fibre of your body was screaming at you to say no, to refuse his offer and walk out but there was a part of you that was bored beyond comparison. You missed human interaction, but these people were probably dangerous. You missed having fun and letting go, but would Tom let you let go?

“Aren’t the people there going to be dangerous?” Tom smiled cheekily, knowing that you were debating actually attending with him. “Besides what will I wear? I didn’t exactly get to bring a large range of clothing with me”

“Darling, no one will even think of messing with you considering you’ll stick with me.” The other question was no issue for him. “I can get you a dress in time, don’t stress” He found that amusing, that you thought someone would try and mess with what was his.

You nodded, still unsure if this was the right thing but you needed this, a little time to socialize and get out of the house.

“Where is this event?”

Deciding not to answer that question yet, Tom simply shook his head, already picturing the type of dress he wanted you in. “If you knew, you’d back out and I can’t have that”

Before you could question why he wouldn’t tell you or why that cocky smirk returned to his face, the door opened and a small dog came bounding in, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she ran to Tom.

Tom seemed delighted to see her, getting down on his knees and petting her head to which you stepped back slowly, thinking that if this was Tom’s dog then was probably anything but nice to strangers.

“Hey sweet pea, I missed you” He coed. “Darling, this is Tessa” Tom watched as your eyes widened and you stepped behind him slowly. It wasn’t that you disliked dogs, no, you were just on edge about dogs that you hadn’t met before.

“Does she bite?” The dog sat in front of Tom instead of bearing its teeth and you relaxed slightly. Quite frankly she was adorable, the little grey Staffy lifted its tail, wagging it back and forth slightly.

“Tessa? Oh god, no,” he laughed, kneeling down to his dog and patting her head. She immediately began licking his face, her tail wagging excitedly as she tried to tackle her owner. “She’s the softest dog you’ll ever meet”

You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as he smiled and spoke in a soft baby voice to his dog, but you hid it with a sarcastic comment. “Who knew Tom Holland had a soft spot for dogs, hmm?”

He went from cocky and sarcastic to soft in the span of only a few seconds, all because of a dog?

Tom tensed slightly when he heard your giggle, but he didn’t tense out of fear of being caught in a moment so few close to him ever saw. No, Tom tensed because he’d heard your laugh and liked it. “One dog, princess, I have a soft spot for one dog. She’s the only girl in my life”

The smile fell from your face when he said that, which didn’t go unnoticed by Tom as he continued to play with his dog.

“I thought you said five minutes ago that i was your only lady?” The line was nothing but a joke, a cocky remark but Tom thought otherwise.

“Is someone jealous?”

Scoffing, You get down on your knees, slowly reaching a hand out which the dog sniffed for a moment before plopping her head down, waiting for a pat which you gladly gave her. She seemed to like it too, rolling over and sticking her tongue out of her mouth happily. “Don’t think ahead of yourself, Holland, I still despise you”

Let me know what YOU want to read, I thrive on feedback/ideas

Part 4!

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[yellowsugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Party Time”

Title: Party Time Characters: Clementine, Marlon, Louis, Violet, Minerva, Duck, Brody Summary: In a high school au, Clementine, the new shy girl, ends up at a high school party with Duck the jock, Marlon the edgy boy, and Louis the theatre kid. Slowly developing feelings for Clementine, Marlon and Louis scheme to get Duck out of the picture with Clementine remains completely oblivious. The entire time, Violet and Minerva watch everything unfold from the sidelines. Author's Note: This actually turned out so great omggggg I’m so HAPPY with it Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Clementine hated parties. More so, she hated the people that were at said parties.

Before she had moved, that was all that kids in her school did: got drunk, got high, repeat. They were never interested in art, or books, or film. Nothing like what she was into. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

She had hoped that Savannah would be different but so far, seeing as she had only been there for a week and a half and already she was invited to a “we won a single football game and therefore need to all get drunk” party, her hope was dissipating quickly.

Unlike any other school she had ever been to, there weren’t set cliques: the cool kids, the smokers, the rocker kids, etc. Instead, here, everyone was mixed in. The average clique had a bit of everything, and Clementine couldn’t tell if she loved or hated it.

Realistically, it meant she had a better chance of finding a group to hang out with. However, the added stress of not having an obvious target group to seek out was daunting. Where did one seek to find their place in a school where everyone already had it figured themselves out?

Within her first few minutes at the party, Clem could tell she was in for trouble. Everyone had already sorted themselves out into their respective groups, and she sat in the middle of a coach, talking to nobody, sipping away at her lemon water like a total idiot.

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?”

Marlon could feel his shoulder rattle as Louis jostled it. “New girl?” Marlon groaned, adjusting the earring that the contact had tugged at. Maybe it was because Louis was the school’s prized theater kid, but he had a tendency to be exuberant with every motion. The charm of it was what originally had drawn them to one another, but more often than not these days, Marlon just found it to be grating.

Louis turned, giving Marlon a skeptical once over. “You mean you haven’t?”

Marlon stared at him, brows raised, confused at the weird way he was acting. “No, I haven’t. Can you chill out? It’s just a girl. Who cares.”

“You should and I do,” Louis scoffed, his shirt fabric twinkling under the dim living room lighting. Louis always dressed up when he went anywhere. Theater kids.

His glimmer wasn’t thanks to him alone. The party was hosted at the rich girl’s house — Minerva, head of the art club. Apparently her parents left town for the weekend and put her in charge. It was big news around school that they hadn’t taken kindly to hearing about her girlfriend, Violet, and Minerva made a big spectacle about her “revenge house party” to get back at them.

A high school student body didn’t need a reason to party, but for revenge? As if any of them would say no.

Marlon rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested.”

“In girls? Guys? Or do you mean you’re not interested in anybody?”

Marlon gave him a daring look. To anyone else, the look would be horrifying, seeing as head-to-toe Marlon was dressed like he was out to kill — black jeans, a leather jacket, thick black boots and a chain earring on his left ear — but it didn’t phase Louis. It never did. He knew what a softie the guy was, despite his dark exterior.

“Come on,” Louis groaned. “She’s sitting right there on the couch. Just look.” Flicking Marlon’s cheek, pushing his stare in the right direction, Marlon finally set his sights on the girl of the hour.

He swirled his drink in his palm as he studied her, taking in the awkward way she was sitting on the couch, wedged between a couple making out and a two girls taking a hoard of Snapchat selfies and deleting every one. She didn’t seem comfortable, and she stuck out like a sore thumb in her jean overalls and lemon-print t-shirt.

Despite the flit of his lip — the way it faintly tugged upward as he studied her — he turned back to Marlon and forced his expression to become cold again. “She’s alright.”

Louis scoffed, fiddling with the unbuttoned buttons on his shirt. “Right, I’m sorry, I forgot that you only like girls with three layers of eyeliner and piercings from head-to-toe.”

Marlon shot him a glare.

Louis accepted it. He wasn’t about to act like he didn’t deserve it, but he also wasn’t about to act like he wasn’t right.

“She doesn’t seem happy. How am I supposed to know what she’s like from staring at the uncomfortable way she’s sitting?”

Louis smirked, picking up on every part of his attempted cover-up. His gaze turned back to the couch and his relaxed, teasing body began to stiffen. Marlon, whose focus was stuck to him, shifted to see what, or who, he was staring at.

The couple on Clementine’s left separated from what felt like the decades of sucking at each other's faces. Peeling away, Louis and Marlon could both see that it was the head of the football team - nicknamed Duck - and the head of the debate team, Brody.

“Excuse me?” Brody snapped, her gaze harrowing in on the male.

Duck shrugged, taking hold of her hips as he attempted to tug her closer, wanting to place her back on his lips.

She scoffed, forcing him away harder this time. “I said no, creep. Stop trying to shove your hand down my pants.”

Duck scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Come on, loosen up a little—”

Once again, Brody swatted his hand away. “No means no, asshole.” She scoffed, pushing herself to her feet and trotting away, fixing her hair as she went.

Even though they were a decent distance away, and could only just barely make out what the two were saying, Louis and Marlon could very clearly see Duck call her a bitch. Louis scoffed, leaning back into the wall. “What an ass.”

“What else is new?” Marlon scoffed, taking another swing of the event’s cheap beer. Although Minerva’s family had money, her and Violet had a limited budget. The event was purely for popularity. As if they were going to spend decent money to get party-goers anything better than the cheapest beer they could get in mass and frail red solo cups. He groaned as it slid down his throat. It was disgusting, but at least it had the promise of keeping him tipsy.

“Hey guys!”

Glancing up from their drinks, over trotted Minerva, dressed up to the nines, with Violet being pulled along behind her. One of the weirdest parts about Violet and Minerva’s relationship was how polar opposite they seemed, and yet how perfectly they got along. Minerva was always dolled up, and always came to school looking like a Barbie fresh out of the packaging — not a hair out of place, not an item of clothing smudged. On the opposite side, Violet was always late, wore the same outfit 3 days out of the week, and was regularly known to smoke behind the school instead of going to class. Yet somehow, whenever they were together, they fit like the perfect couple.

“Are you guys enjoying the party?” Minerva asked, smile beaming. From slightly to her right, Violet turned to her and smiled, smitten as could be.

Louis smiled. “We are, thanks for hosting Minnie.”

Minnie shrugged and waved her hand, the small solo cup of wine — the least classy thing they had ever seen her with — jostling in her hand. If she was forcing everyone to drink out of solo cups, she was going to as well. That was just the type of person she was. “It’s not a problem. My parents owe me one.”

Throughout their conversation, Marlon didn’t detach his stare from Clementine. Duck, directly at her side, was prowling for his next victim. Marlon could feel his stomach twist watching, and hated what he knew would inevitably occur.

“Marlon?”

Finally, he snapped out of his trance, his gaze dragging from the couch to the girl standing before him. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, turning to Louis for help. All he did was smirk. “Yeah, yeah, the party’s been great.”

Violet turned, peering over her girlfriend’s shoulder and spotting Clementine, staring down at the water cup in her hand and watching it swirl. Violet chuckled. “So, you like Clementine, huh?”

“What?” Marlon scoffed. This would’ve been so much easier if Louis — the socially competent one out of the two of them — would’ve stepped up to help him. “No, that’s not it.”

“Clementine?” Minerva asked, eyeing up Louis. “The new girl?” Louis nodded and gestured behind her and, after swirling around and spotting her, she swiveled back. “Oh her! She seems quiet.”

“She is,” Louis said, nodding. “She hasn't said a word to anyone the entire time she's been here.”

Minerva frowned. “Do you think she’s not having fun?”

“I’m sure she’s just shy, Minnie.” Violet said, jostling her shoulder. “She’s new, she just doesn't know anyone here yet.”

Watching Duck turn, his eyes widening spotting the unarmed girl to his side, Marlon could feel all his relaxed muscles dissipate. “That’s what I’m worried about.” Sensing the attention drift, the rest of their group turned to see what Marlon was analyzing.

Louis, picking up on his friend’s stress, spotted the sight. “Oh jeez,”

“I’m on it,” Violet sighed, patting Minerva on the shoulder and making her way to the couch. Just as Duck was reaching his hand out, ready to tap an unknowing Clementine on the shoulder, Violet wandered up and slapped the male on the leg. “Wrestle me.”

Duck scoffed, eyeing up Violet hesitantly. The two of them had been teamed up on sports since elementary school — anywhere from basketball to badminton — so Violet challenging him was nothing new. But in the middle of a party? That was new. “Wrestle you?” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Vi. I’m not about to embarrass you in front of everyone.”

Violet felt her eyebrow twitch. Despite being in school with him for years, she still knew he was an ass. “Come on, Duck. Grow a pair, huh?”

That did it, and Violet knew it would.

Duck scoffed, heaving himself to his feet. “Backyard. Let’s go.”

Violet smirked, crossing her arms cheekily and starting for the back doors.

The buzz of the match swept through the living room, and while a handful of people slipped out to watch, Louis and Marlon weren’t some of them.

Minerva sighed. “Well, I guess I’d better go keep an eye on that.” Lifting a hand, giving the two a little wave, she gathered Violet’s abandoned cup and started for the door. “Talk later!” She called over her shoulder.

Just as she vanished, Louis jostled Marlon’s arm. “Let’s go talk to her.”

“Talk? To Clementine?”

“Yes!” Louis scoffed, arms waving, his rum and coke jostling. “There’s no Duck getting in the way, we can finally go and see what she’s like.”

Marlon said nothing, only faintly scrunched his nose and wavered from foot to foot.

Louis scoffed, tugging on his friend’s jacket and jumping down to the now-vacant seat on the couch. There was only the one, seeing as the girls clouding the other side weren’t too interested in watching an unprofessional wrestling match out back, but Louis decided the proximity wouldn’t bother either of them. Hopefully, it wouldn’t bother her.

“You’re Clementine, right?” He asked, speaking before sliding himself down into the spot beside her.

She glanced up, blinking meekly at the two towering before her. As suspected, her shoulders curled at Marlon’s appearance. “Yeah? Do I know you guys?” Her voice was so soft over the music, like it was made of glass. It made Louis want to hold them. It made Marlon, even more so, want to keep Duck and his grimy hands away from her.

“Probably not,” Louis offered with a faint chuckle, watching as Marlon took a seat in front of her on the coffee table, clutching his beer can between his legs. “We just noticed you were sitting all alone and wanted to bring some company. You’re new, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed faintly. “I just moved from Roswell.”

Louis smiled. “Welcome to Savannah. I hope our classmates haven’t brought you too much trouble.”

Clementine gave a small smile, shrugging her shoulders, her stature loosening given their pleasant conversation. “No, but I think they’re going to be bringing each other a bit of it.”

Marlon gave a faint smile. “Yeah, that’s kinda Duck’s style.”

“Violence?” Clem questioned.

“No, trouble.”

Clementine smiled, a giggle escaping her. Marlon and Louis, although it was only for a flicker, made eye contact. They agreed, silently, that it was the cutest sound they’d ever heard.

“So, have you talked to a lot of people here?”

Clementine’s smile faded slightly. “No, I’m not really great when it comes to putting myself out there.”

“You came tonight,” Louis said with a shrug, tapping Marlon on the knee to back him up. “That’s putting yourself out there, especially in a new city.”

Marlon nodded, swirling his beer can passively. “That’s already a step above a lot of people. Give yourself some credit,”

Clementine’s eyes widened faintly, so faintly that Louis couldn’t see under the dim lighting, but Marlon — the one meeting her gaze — could. “You think?”

Marlon smiled. It was cute how innocent she was when it came to social interaction. “Of course,” he offered, a chuckle escaping. “You’re doing great. You’re talking to us, aren’t you?”

Louis smiled, impressed at how swiftly his friend was taking to her. Although, they both knew that was largely in part thanks to Clementine being easy to talk to and not due to Marlon’s social skills improving. “Yeah,” Louis furthered. “You’ve already made 2 new friends.”

Clementine turned, mouth propped open, as if ready to question the statement. Just as she was about to speak, just as she was about to question if they were being serious, she was silenced.

“Sorry boys, I believe that’s my seat.”

Glancing up, the three spotted Duck, covered in grass stains. His arms were crossed, and his toothy grin gleamed even through the faint lighting. Violet, also covered in grass stains, was standing a few paces behind him being tidied up by Minerva, too preoccupied to notice.

“I believe this is a party, and people can sit wherever they want.” Louis countered.

Marlon rolled his eyes, taking a long swing of beer. Duck wasn’t worth the effort it took to belittle him, but he’d be damned if they were about to give up their spot next to Clementine for Duck to swipe it.

“I called spot check,” Duck claimed, arms crossed.

Louis scrunched his nose. Duck knew Louis was a stickler for party rules. Spot checking? That was rule number 1, and they all knew Louis wasn’t about to break it. With a huff, he shot up to his feet. “Fine,” he scoffed. “Come on Clementine,”

“Oh no no no,” Duck said, his hand latching onto Louis’ shoulder just as he was helping Clem to her feet, and just as Marlon stood to assist in their transition. “She stays.”

Clementine immediately tensed. Even though he wasn't looking at her, Marlon could feel it. “Ease off Duck, she’s allowed to go wherever she wants.” He snapped, feeling a twitch of rage. He spoke about her as if she was a potted plant rather than a person.

Duck scoffed, releasing Louis. “Nice to know that when Marlon finally speaks it’s to show support for feminism,” he laughed. “Nice to see you supporting your own kind.”

Marlon furrowed his brows. Just when he thought Duck couldn’t make himself look like a bigger ass, he went ahead and did it.

“Duck, just knock it off, okay?” Louis scoffed, arms out, pleading with the guy. “We’re all here to have a good time. There’s no need for you to start acting like an asshole.”

“Excuse you?”

Marlon smirked. “Sorry, he meant to say that you never stopped acting like an asshole.” Marlon could tell that one made Clementine’s shoulders tense even more. A part of him felt bad that she was tossed in the middle of all this.

“Excuse you?” Duck asked, leering toward the male. “Rich talk coming from the quiet kid,”

Marlon didn’t flinch, even when Clementine slithered farther behind him. Maybe it would be better for her to just go home. Maybe coming to the party was a mistake. Just as she started for the door, ready to set down her cup and get out, she was spotted.

“Awe, come on girly, where ya going?” Duck called, causing her motions to freeze. “Are the weirdos freaking you out? Don’t worry,” forcing himself between the two of them, he reached out for her. “I’ll keep you awake from them.”

Turning around, feeling a hand creep up on her back and shoulder, Clementine could feel her skin crawl. Could she force him away? Would he listen? He sure hadn’t been listening to anyone else who had been telling him off. What made her any different?

“That’s enough of that, asshole.”

Clementine watched as Marlon jetted his elbow into Duck’s side, causing his grip on her shoulder to vanish. Just as the grip was lost, Louis swept up beside her, making sure to hold his hands out in front of her, demonstrating that he didn’t mean harm. “Are you okay?” He hushed.

Clementine said nothing, she was too worried and shaken. Instead, she just nodded.

It was then, staring at the terrified quiver in her eyes, did Louis realize just how different she was. Just how much better she was than the rest of the school.

At first glance, they’d approached Clementine because she was cute. It didn’t take long for them to realize that she was more than that. She was special. In a city full of stuck up teens, and in a high school that promoted pompous popularity over generosity, Clementine brought a stark contrast to it all.

They didn’t want to flirt with her. Hell, the two of them didn’t even want to date her. They wanted to keep her safe. They wanted to keep her away from the cruel world of high school. As far as they were concerned, they were there to save her.

“Come on Clem,” Louis said, taking her arm and guiding her away. “We’ll take you home.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, voice wavering and fragile. “I don’t want to take you guys away.”

“We don’t care about being here,” Marlon said, whisking the front door open and placing a hand on Clem’s shoulder as Louis guided her out. “We’d much rather walk you home than stay with this mess.”

Clementine’s eyes widened as she was escorted out of the house, one of the boys on either side of her. For the first time since she had entered that night, she felt safe. She felt as if someone had her back.

It was then, as the two guided her down the street back to her home, did she know that Savannah was going to be different from Roswell. Savannah was going to feel like home.

Because finally, finally, she had friends. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------