#and now just standing for over a hour straight makes my legs feel like theyre going to give out on me

[martyrbat]

special loving shout-out to people who had to give up a hobby, passion, or dream because of their disability/disabilities. its okay to feel disappointed or angry you cant do the things you want to do & i love you all and hope you find the same happiness and comfort in other things soon.

[jinkicake]

no thoughts just running away in a flowy gown through the streets of Italy from don giorno

((((anon... ANON... okay give me like ten minutes to post my other works and then Imma come back and just dump my entire BRAINROT that I have because of this post WAAIIITTT this is so good,,, you’re.... a genius))))

A/N: Okay..... this is so messy, so rough and I can’t believe I wrote 1.6k words in less than an hour BUT... here you are Anon~~~ a little something based off of your message hehehe it’s lowkey yandere :0 (Also... in part five theyre in naples right? LMFAO i can never remember) Anyway I have an early class tmr so I have to cut it short so this is not editied and -again- very messy,,, I will try to fix it later but for now~~~ here is my take on running away from Giorno LOL 

Giorno x Reader

This has lowkey yandere themes... 

WC- 1,637

All you want at this moment is to rip your constricting dress off. The thin, pale blue material is suffocating, every layer tightens around your skin and makes it that much harder to run. You’ll do anything to help you free yourself from Giorno’s clutches. And as of right now, you have your foot in the door. 

At least, you think you do. Unbeknownst to you, the little ladybug necklace adorning your neck has other thoughts. 

It was smart to leave (escape) in the early afternoon, right as your fiancé was in the midst of all of his meetings and when it was most crowded in the streets. You could easily blend in with all the other people, at least until nightfall. 

It has become your mission to get as far away from Naples as you can before the moon starts to rise. You quickly found out that is easier said than done. 

If only the streets weren’t filled with his men, if only every single person who makes eye contact with you wasn’t on his side. 

You knew that the moment Giorno had found out about this, about your betrayal, that there would be dire consequences. Yet again, it was never your intention to allow him to ever find you again. 

Given by your own personal estimation, you had about another five minutes before he was alert of your missing status. The guards stationed at your shared apartment change positions every twenty minutes to ensure that not one of them gets any special amount of time with you. The helicopter gaurds hovering over you were such a pain. Too bad you had already disposed of those on stand, it’ll be a quick affair once everyone notices your lack of presence. 

“Fuck,” You murmur as your flat, clearly not made for running, catches on one of the cracks in the street. Your chest heaves up and down with each breath as you stare at the unfamiliar crowd trying to pick up on any familiar face. A wave of relief washes over you when you realize that you don’t recognize any of them. 

You can do this, you can do this. Start over, somewhere new, somewhere like France or Switzerland. You can escape. 

And you truly believed that, you kept running with all of your might and didn’t stop to look back once. After some time, the streets started to mesh together and it felt as if you had started running around in circles. You didn’t have time to worry about that, not as the sun was setting and the streets were starting to clear up. Any leverage, any chance of escape that you had, would be lost if you did not make it out of Naples. 

Maybe you could find a bus that would take you up to Rome, then up and the hell away from Italy. Maybe a boat would be quicker, a motorcycle? 

All at once, your senses start to close in as you realize that you did not take advantage of your situation. You did not think this through, you saw a chance and you took it. You’ll fight until your last breathe, until Giorno finds you again. There is no way in hell you’re going to let this golden opportunity go to waste. 

But, God, had you fucked up. You fucked up, really bad, but deep in your heart you know it was worth every single second. 

It doesn’t matter how far or how fast you run now. 

The abandoned alleyways tell you everything you need to know, it’s now completely dark outside and late into the night. The streets are cleared, silent, except for the telltale sounds of your shoes lighting pounding into the pavement. 

You tightly bunch your hands up in the sides of your dress before pulling the fabric up and running with all of your might. You should have ditched the dress earlier, it was only ever holding you back but it’s not like you had another change of clothes. 

Giorno always liked you dressed up. 

Almost as if you were his little doll. 

A black car stops suddenly at the end of the street, blocking off the entire road and cutting through the silence with a loud screech of its tires. It’s not enough to intimidate you, you still refuse to give up. 

Almost too quickly you swiftly turn around, hot on your heels ready to run away, right into a broad chest. 

The black suit fills your vision before you can actually see the figure, but you can still feel their presence right away. You’re done for, you’re done for. 

“You ruined your pretty dress,” Giorno’s soft face portrays a frown as his eyebrows furrow in disinterest. His light eyes still hold concern only for you. He reaches his hand up to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheeks and you immediately flinch, taking a step back only to bump into something else.

This time you’re almost too scared to turn around, you would much rather face Giorno than the other figure. An unpleasant huff causes you to shakily glance over your shoulder and face Golden Experience Requiem. It’s staring down at you with betrayal deep in its eyes, hands twitching next to your own.

You couldn’t take the stand on even if you wanted to. 

You try to move, step away, but the stand is much quicker and grabs your biceps to hold you still. Its pants rest heavily in your ears and you don’t even dare to look up at Giorno who has started pacing in front of you. 

You feel so stupid, oh so stupid, the dress is filthy and dirty. Everything is torn at the seams, your shoes are worn down, your hair is flung all over your face, you’re a complete and utter mess. 

It only gets worse when you hear the robotic sounds behind you. Still gutted with betrayal, Golden Experience Requiem utters a single word in his polite tone that matches his user’s. 

“Why?” 

Your eyes slightly widen at this and as a result, the grip on your biceps grows tighter. 

“Why? Why?” The mechanic voice demands and you’re nearly shaking beneath its grip. Now, you know why Giorno is so silent. He never loses his composure in front of you, he is always calm and ahead, always one step in front of you. With his stand, however, he can’t help but express all his feelings as he desires. 

An apology feels heavy on your tongue because you’re not sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. 

“I wanted to go home.” You daringly lift your gaze to look straight at your fiancé, glaring at him as if it could make him disappear. 

“Then let’s, we can discuss the matters of this evening there,” Giorno takes a step toward you, and he is beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he waits for you to turn around and follow him. 

Your stubborn eyes, filled with tears, nearly makes him sigh. 

“Please don’t be difficult,” He tries to cup your face but his own stand pulls you tighter into its chest. Golden Experience Requiem has always been so possessive over you and never afraid to show it. Giorno knows that he couldn’t call his stand back even if he tried, not until you were safely in the car. 

“I want to go home.” You repeat, too calmly for your current panicked state. A long, cold arm drapes over your chest and you feel your feet start to rise against the hard road beneath you.

The stand is literally dragging you back to the car with no remorse. 

And stupidly, you make another mistake.

“Not with you,” At this point, you’re sure you won’t make it out of this experience alive. You keep making it worse and worse for yourself as if you can’t help it. 

Giorno stills, and the slight clench of his jaw is enough to have you sprinting back into his car. 

“Then with who?” He asks through his teeth, glaring harshly at the side of your face as you continue to look away from him. It’s not enough for him and he tightly grabs your jaw with his hand to force you to look at him. His fingers dig into your cheeks when you still refuse to look at him. “With who, darling?” 

No air is flowing through your system. You can’t concentrate on anything, not on the stand behind you tugging on your body possessively or your fiancé holding you just as angrily. 

“Myself,” You finally tell him honestly and look up at him, Giorno physically calms down at the sight. 

“I can take you there if it means you will stop acting out,” The offer, the bargain, falls short on your ears and a new frown takes up your face. 

Giorno is taunting you, teasing you.

You know there is no chance in hell he would let you go home, let you visit the place you miss the most. He knows he’ll never get you back if he does. Giorno is just using this to get you back in the car.

He’s done it once before, and this certainly won’t be the last time he does it either. 

“I will bring you there, (Y/N).” He restates and you stubbornly hold your place. “You don’t want to go anymore?” His jaw ticks and you can hear the irritation filling his voice. “It’s so hard to please you,” The tightening grip on your biceps shows his frustration even if he doesn’t physically face you with it. Golden Experience Requiem has you under lock and key, hugging you so tightly that you’re almost gasping for air. “One last chance.”

One last chance to take him up on his pseudo offer, to entertain his twisted fantasy. 

This is your split road, lick your fiancé’s wounds or let the gash grow bigger and bigger. 

Either way, you’ll end up back at his estate, now all that matters is the punishment waiting back for you. 

You can’t find it in yourself to move your legs. 

[honeypirate]

my sun and stars

Izuku Midoirya x Reader 

In my head theyre in their last year of school and end up fighting a bad villian, deku saves reader and ends up getting hurt, leading to a kind of confession.  

flufffyyyyy best friends to more

Heavily unedited so I apologize for the mistakes I know are there somewhere.

The girls of class 1A, Aoyama, and you, sat cross legged on the floor of Deku’s room. A book on the floor between you all that explains the chemical makeup of what you needed “thank you so much for this Yao-Momo. It really is a help since it’s so late and I don’t know where to even get these.” she smiles “no problem, this is an amazing idea” the little plastic pieces start to fall from her skin, onto the floor around her. You squeal in excitement and start to pick up the pieces, grabbing the sticky tack that she made first, and begin hanging the plastic pieces all over the room. You didn’t finish until early in the morning, around 3am. You were happy even though you knew you had to get up early to go to the hospital

Your neck ached but you didn’t care, you kept your hand in his and your forehead against your hand as you rested in the hospital. Your best friend, Izuku Midoriya, has been in a coma for the past few days, you made a huge fuss and now they let you stay with him however long you wanted if you just went home at night to shower and sleep. School has been out for the past few days because of rebuilding from the attack, Midoriya only got hurt because he was protecting you and you felt guilty because of it. You wanted to be with him as long as possible until he woke up, and the teachers knew that, Aizawa was there as long as you were but he gave you space, sitting outside of the door. He walked you back to school at the end of the night, and was there in the morning when you left the dorm, the travel to and fro was always silent but you were grateful for the company. 

“y/n, what are you doing here?” your head snaps up from the bed “you’re awake!” you say and smile, but your smile falls away when you see the disgusted look on his face and the way he whips his hand away from yours “oh..” you whisper, your heart beginning to race. “What are YOU doing here?” he asks again, his eyes turning dark, “I uhh, i wanted to be here when you woke up, i was worried..” you withdraw into the chair you were sitting in, feeling smaller than a pinhead, “don't tell me you’re IN LOVE with me?! Don't make me laugh” and he does, long and loud, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. You feel tears burn your eyes and quickly scoot your chair back, popping to your feet and trying to run out the door, but the door won't open when you push it. You try to force it open and it doesn’t budge, your hand freezes when his laughter stops and he speaks again “i never should have hurt myself for you. You’re not worth it. It should be you in this hospital bed” you gasp and tears start to flow down your cheeks, the door immediately flies open and all of your friends are outside the door, laughing and shoving their way inside while chanting “it should have been you” you take a step back and trip, falling on your butt and choking on a sob. You scoot farther back until youre up against the wall, your friends walking slowing towards you and Midoriya standing from his hospital bed, walking over to you with a smirk before crouching down in front of you“D..deku. Why?”  you sob as you look into his dark green eyes you loved, he chuckles “because I could never love a person like you” 

You woke up with a gasp in a cold sweat, panting and your heart racing, the dream you were just in still fresh in your mind. You throw your covers off and go to open the window in your room, the cool night air cooling off your body as you took deep breaths to calm yourself down. “That was so rude of you, brain” you whisper to nobody and then get back in bed, reaching over and checking your phone, 4:04am. Your alarm would go off in three hours but you doubt that you would get any more sleep tonight. 

The walk to the hospital was the same as all the others, only thing heard was your footsteps on the pavement, when you get to his hospital room you stop, hand on the door, and frown. “Is something wrong?” Mr. Aizawa asks and you shake your head. “Just a bad dream.” you whisper and then turn your face towards him “thank you for always walking with me. I really appreciate it” he nods and you finally enter the room. 

You tell his unconscious form about your dream, “and yeah” you yawn “i didn't sleep after that.” you pull your chair across the room to be by the bed, sitting down and pulling a blanket out from your bag and a book you had to read for your class, pulling your knees up and settling in. “i really hope you wake up soon, Deku. I miss you.” 

A chorus of beeping is what woke him up, his eyes slowly fluttering open, the groan in his throat dying before it can come out when he catches sight of your unconscious form sleeping curled up in the chair next to his bed, your peaceful sleeping face giving him butterflies. “She’s here every day, all day, leaving only to go home and sleep before coming back in the morning” his eyes moved over to the doorway where the voice was “mr Aizawa!” he says in a whisper. Aizawa comes in quietly, looking at you and your book that fell to the ground, “you should have seen the fuss that they made on the first day when we tried to send them home. They really care about you” he covers his mouth as he yawns and then shoves his hands in his pocket. Izuku’s eyes go back over to you as he sits up quietly, stifling the groan of his soar muscles, he doesn’t know what to say, the fact that you care so much about him makes his heart sore, he's been in love with you for so long but felt convinced you saw him as only a friend. This makes him hope you see him as more.

A hand on your shoulder makes you up, you open your eyes and see the dark green eyes from your dream. You gasp, your eyes widening and your heart beat spiking as you sit up straight in the chair, trying to back away from him but the back of the chair stopping you. “Hey hey it’s just me it’s okay” his eyes, you realized, weren’t dark at all. But filled with sweetness and a kindness that you were so familiar with. The beautiful green eyes you loved, nothing like the ones from your dream. You relax and then laugh awkwardly “sorry. Bad dreams recently” you shove the blanket off your lap as excitement finally makes its way throughout your body. You throw your arms around the boy's neck and hug him gently but quickly. “Are you okay? Why are you out of bed?!” one of his arms, the one without the IV, wraps around your back “i’m okay. I wanted to wake you, I’m sorry i couldn’t wait any longer” you pull back and smile as you look into his eyes, your hands staying on his neck “how long have you been up? You should have woken me at the exact moment. Izuku I missed you so much you have no idea how worried i’ve been” you from and he chuckles, reaching up to push your frown into a smile “you looked so peaceful and lovely i couldn't bring myself to. Mr. Aizawa has told me a little about how worried you’ve been.” you help him stand and help him back to his bed, your face flushed knowing that Aizawa talked about you. 

 “Has the doctor come in?” he nods “she told me everything and answered all my questions, and the nurses too. They all love you, you know. Raved about how sweet you were and how moved they are that you’ve been so dedicated to me. Half of them think we’re dating” you laugh uncomfortably, turning away to pull the chair closer before you sat down again “is that so?” you say.

“What was your bad dream about? Will you tell me?” his voice was soft and you sighed, your eyes moving up from the stain on the chair to meet his green eyes again, “it wasn’t nice and it is really dumb, are you sure you want to hear it?” he nods and you nod as well, looking down at your hands in your lap, turning them to look at your palms as you relay the dream to him, leaving out the part where he told you he could never love you, though, didn't want to confess just yet. “Please look at me” his voice was quiet, you looked slowly up into his eyes, he’s smiling softly and his eyes are gentle “it isn’t dumb. and I want to protect you. I hate seeing you get hurt. I would never ever think like that. Okay?” you nod and smile, a load felt like it was taken from your shoulders, you didn’t even feel like it bothered you this much. “Thank you, Izuku” you clear your throat and begin to fold your blanket in your lap “do you know when you can go home?” he sighs “not till tomorrow morning, have to keep me overnight for observations” you smile and take his hand on the bed “i am so glad you’re awake and okay” his heart is racing as hard ad yours was and his cheeks begin to flush so he looks away from you and changes the topic. 

You spent the rest of the day with him, catching up on what he missed and playing some card games. You were so relieved he was okay and coming home. The rest of the class showed up as well his Mom (who stayed the rest of the day with you both) and the class brought so many watermelons you didn't know what to do with half of them. You ended up giving them to some of the hospital staff. 

The next morning you met Izuku at the hospital to go home with him, smiling and bouncing on your toes, excited to show him what you did in his room. When you get there you ask him to close his eyes as you enter, he laughs but still follows your orders when your hand goes up to cover his eyes. 

“I hope you like it Izuku” you whisper before you drop your hand, you left the light on all night and brought in your blackout curtains to make sure the whole room was pitch black. When he opened his eyes he was greeted with the most beautiful display of glow in the dark stars and planets, exact constellations spread out around his ceiling and walls, all of the ones you guys found together one night after a big fight with a villain when you both couldn’t sleep and you snuck out to the roof.

 His hand finds yours in the dark and he laces your fingers together “y/n I…” you swallow hard, your stomach filled with knots of excitement and butterflies “do you like it?” you whisper and he chuckles “I love it. It’s so amazing” you feel relieved “i’m so glad” he pulls you into his arms into a hug that feels like it reached your very core. 

Something about the darkness made you feel bolder, maybe because you couldn’t see his face, you grab fistfuls of his shirt across his back, burying your face into his neck whispering “you are my sun and stars, Izuku” his heart stopped and he froze, did you really say that or is this a dream? It takes him a good second to restart his heart and pull you tighter against his chest. “And you are mine” he says and pulls back, reaching up to cup your cheek in the dark, his thumb tracing your bottom lip before he leans down, pressing his lips gently to yours.

[brelione]

The Surfer And The Siren

Chapter Two:The Blondes,The Dog and The Girl in the Woods.

Chapter One

@kelsiejayy��� designed this mood board :) 

“Why is it always the blondes?”Richard asked.You shrugged,folding the snack bag closed. “They remind me of him.”You answered.Richard just nodded,pulling the strings of the bag tight. “Will you tell him stories about me when im gone?”Richard asked.You pouted. “You’ve still got a few more years,Rich.”You mumbled.He just chuckled. “Lets get going,weve got thirteen hours to go.”he locked the door as you walked out.You two got into his older car,driving down the bumpy roads to his house.You ran up the small grassy hill and up to the front porch,kneeling to pet Blue on his stomach.You then ran inside,jumping onto the couch and holding your favorite pillow to your chest.Richard let the dog in,going into the kitchen to show you that he had already set out your favorite cookies.ayou ate seven before you ran into the backyard to see how much taller the sunflowers had grown since the last time you had been over to the house.You rolled in the grass,lifting yourself into a tree and giggling loudly.

It felt like it had been a long time since you had even touched a tree.Probably because it had been.Richard placed his phone on the outdoor table,allowing your favorite songs to play.There was some Queen,some Disney,some instrumental and some early 2000’s music.You got down from the tree,telling him you were going to take Blue for a walk.Richard nodded,standing up.He wasnt as fast or energetic as he had been 60 years ago.He couldnt give you piggy back rides anymore or play soccer in the middle of the woods.It didnt really matter though.He was still good old Richard with his shitty jokes and his big grey hound.You grabbed Blue’s leash,clipping it to his collar.RIchard shouted to you to let you know that you could go without him.You ran down the street,racing the large dog all the way to figure eight.You ended up on the beach behind the kook mansions.You had watched as they had been built all those years ago,wondering what kind of rich straight white dudes were going to move in there.

You were unaware of the camera watching you from a tall tree,oblivious to the notification that was sent to Rafe Cameron’s phone.Blue leaned against you,laying down at your feet.You sat indian style,allowing the dog to rest in your lap. “Are you a handsome baby?”You grinned,tapping the dogs nose.He sneezed,moving upwards to look your chin.Rafe came up behind you,his eyes focusing on your hair.He hadnt been prepared or even thought about what he was going to say.He just didnt want to miss you. “Hello?”You called out,feeling someone looking at you.He inhaled sharply and his fists clenched. “Sorry,sorry-I didnt mean to scare you.”He spoke awkwardly.Blue sat up,staring him down and growling.You looked over your shoulder,grip tightening on Blue’s leash.That wasnt Ward.Ward was a normal person,he aged.You had watched him age. “Ward?”You asked,not calling off Blue.Rafe shook his head,not being able to form words.You dragged your fingers along the back of Blue’s neck to calm him.The dog leaned into your touch,slumping against you. 

“Um...Im Rafe-Rafe Cameron.My dad’s name is Ward,though.”He answered.You nodded,standing up and brushing the sand off of your clothing.He looked just like Ward when he was in his early twenties.Ward had always been a bit of the sketchy type but never too bad.He wore his long sleeve shirts rolled up to his elbows,socks and sandals and always had some sort of fancy watch clinging to his wrist.You had been to the Cameron’s dock countless times just to check if Ward Cameron was still alive and walking.You wrapped Blue’s leash around your wrist so he wouldnt go too far. “I like your hair.”He spoke,pointing to the blue curly mess.Your eyebrows fell over your eyes,Blue sensed the tension and licked your fingertips.He glanced up at the tree where the camera was hidden before looking back up at you. “Okay.”You mumbled,not wanting to continue the conversation.He didnt have good intentions.It felt like you were talking to Ward,In fact,you could remember Ward telling you the same thing.Rafe sucked in a big breath,looking down at Blue and trying to ease his mind.

 “Is this your dog?”He asked,gesturing towards the greyhound.You gulped,glancing around the beach for other people. “Friend’s dog.”You answered,your voice hitting him like a wave.He stumbled a bit,deciding to just sit down.His legs couldnt hold his weight and it seemed like his head was full of wet cotton.He felt exhausted and not just from running down the road.He nodded,hands in his lap. “I will see you around,Rafe Cameron.”You spoke softly,allowing the power to sink into the air.It was probably enough to enchant the boys inside houses across the whole neighborhood and more than enough to cause Rafe to fall forward with his eyes closed.You grinned,biting down on your lip and holding back a chuckle.Men were just too easy.You jogged back up the sand and to the street,seeing a boy asleep on his lawn.It only made your smile widen as you ran back to the cut,Blue panting as he sprinted with you.When you got to the cut you were a sweating and panting mess,laughing at the feeling of pain in your kneecaps.

You kept running,savoring the sore feeling at your ankles and heels as your feet smacked the cement.When you got back to Richard’s Blue had dragged himself up the stairs tiredly to drink some water.You went inside the house,leaving the door open for Blue and laying down on the couch.Your cheeks were flushed,your skin damp from sweat. “Did you have a good run?”Richard asked.You nodded,sitting up. “I didnt know that Ward Cameron had a son.”You frowned,pushing the blue hair from your face.Richard gulped,sitting down in his reclining chair. “You saw Ward Cameron?”He asked nervously.You shook your head. “Just his son.Strange looking boy...kind of like Ward with moist hair.I didnt tell him my name,just Blue’s.He’s asleep on the beach as of right now.”You explained.He nodded,opening a bag of skittles.You giggled. “God,do you remember back in 82’ when those things first got to the store?”You asked.He nodded. “How could I forget?I was trying to get you a bag but the buggers were sold out.The rich boys were mixing them with vodka and throwing up on the streets.”He let out a wheeze like laugh.You grinned at the memory,holding your pillow to your stomach.

 “The boy...JJ.Do you know him well?”You asked.Richard raised his eyebrows,shaking his head as he poured skittles into his palm.You sighed,leaning back. “He looks like him...I saw them while I was out today.JJ and Pope,I mean.They were with another boy and a girl.The other one….I forget what he’s called.He looks like an Adam,though.He’s very terrible at surfing,I had to rescue him during a storm.And the girl...she was diving near the caves to clean up trash that had sunk.I feel drawn to them like im supposed to be part of their group.It was that feeling I had when I saw you on the beach on the night we met...I knew it would lead to something good.”You tried your best to explain your feelings.He nodded,reclining in the chair and stretching out his sore legs. “I understand,(Y/N).But I dont know enough about these kids to let you go around them.Im not trying to control you,Im just concerned for your safety.You’ve seen it all before where your kind gets involved with the wrong human folk and winds up dead or trapped in a tank.You cant let that happen,I cant let that happen.I’ll learn as much as I can about them,okay?”He asked.

You sighed,watching as Blue slowly walked in and sat by the door. “I wouldve felt if he had bad intentions or anger,he didnt.When I was out for my swim they tried to find me again to make sure that i was okay.If they were bad they wouldnt have done that.”You mumbled.He nodded. “But they didnt know who you are and what you are.Maybe if they had they would act differently but I dont exactly want to find out.Let me learn about them first,alright?”He asked.You nodded as he turned on his television. “Netflix has new films this month,why dont you flip through them until you find something you’d like to watch?”He offered,leaning forward and handing you the warm black controller.You grinned,biting your bottom lip as you watched the preview for H2o Just Add Water. “Hey-hey Richard.”You laughed.He looked up at the television,holding back a laugh as his nostrils flared. “No-nope.”He shook his head.You laughed,looking through the episode titles before snorting. “Siren effect!”You giggled.He sighed,pinching the bridge of his nose. “If that is what you want to watch than go for it.”He grinned.

You shook your head,going back to the home page.You settled on a show called I Am Not Okay With THis.You werent really paying attention because you were too busy thinking about all the things you wanted to do in such little time. “It really sucks that we cant go into the woods like we used too.”You sighed.Richard frowned,nodding in understanding. “You know that its not safe for you out there alone.”He reminded you.It was dangerous for anyone to go out at night especially young girls.The Cut had some pretty dangerous places that became even more dangerous at night. “Do you think I could go if Blue came with me?”You asked.Blue’s ears perked up at his name,his mouth falling open in a dog smile.Richard nodded hesitantly. “Alright.Dont go too far and stay away from the graveyard.”He leaned back in his seat.You grinned,standing up.You didnt bother with the leash,hopping down the front steps excitedly with Blue right behind you.You didnt think you’d ever get used to the smell of grass and the feeling of dirt between your toes.Your hair got caught in a few branches but you couldnt care less.

You could see the faint green glow of fire flies a few feet away. “Why do I always have to get the firewood?They’re perfectly capable but no,no of course theyre just too high to do basic things.”A feminine voice ranted to herself.There was no way of telling exactly how far away it was but you assumed it was pretty close when the fireflies dispersed.Blue barked softly,a growl coming from her throat. “Hello?”The voice called upon hearing the noise.You huffed,silently thanking the gods that you wouldnt have to speak to yet another boy. “Hello.”You replied,finally seeing the owner of the voice.Her dark hair was tied into a fancy french braided bun that probably took years of her childhood to master.Her skin was the color of werther’s chewy caramels.She wore a white and black hoodie that was large and a bit baggy on her small frame along with a pair of light shorts.You knew she probably couldnt make out your features in the dark.That was one of the advantages you were grateful for.You had always been able to see close to perfectly in the dark which definitely helped with your insecurities when you knew for a fact that others couldnt.

 “Why are you in the middle of the woods?”She asked.You held onto Blue’s collar so he wouldnt lunge at the pretty girl. “The dog needed to pee,what about you?”You asked.She giggled,playing with her fingers nervously as her legs got a tingly feeling. “Oh-um-firewood.What’s your dogs name?”She asked.You slowly let go of the collar.Blue walked forward eagerly to sniff at the girls shorts,hands and shoes. “Blue.”You answered.She kneeled down to pet the large dog as he sat down in front of her,licking a slimy streak on the side of her face. “And what’s your name?”She asked,directing the question towards you.You grinned upon realising that this was her.This had to be a sign. “(Y/N).”You answered,watching as her face fell and her mouth fell agape.You were the girl JJ spoke so fondly of.She could absolutely agree with him about your voice.She had never heard one quite like yours with that weird accent.

You could probably make some really incredible ASMR if you wanted too. “Do you….by any chance have blue hair?”She asked.You smiled to yourself. “That would be me.”You confirmed.She blushed,biting her lip. “Im Kiara.I think you know my friends,JJ and Pope.”She muttered.You hummed,swatting a mosquito away from your face. “I met them briefly.”You told her,snapping your fingers by your side to get Blue to come back to you.You rubbed the back of his left ear,seeing Kiara stand up straight again.The original blue was missing part of his left ear after getting into a fight with a rat the size of a puppy.That was definitely in the top ten scariest moments of your life.You and Richard had been inside the house baking a cinnamon peach cake for his mother when she came home from a long day of work.You had started to smash up butter in a large bowl that you had actually made for them when you heard a mix of screams,hisses and whimpers coming from the backyard.

He had grabbed the broom,ready to break up a fight between two young children.You had both ran outside,screaming in shock at the sight in front of you.Blue had been shaking his head back and forth,trying to get the rat of of him.You had to tackle the poor dog,ripping the rat off and practically suffocating it.Richard had ran inside to grab one of his old dirty shirts,running it under the cool faucet water before running back outside and holding it to Blue’s damaged flesh.You had thrown the rat down the hill as adrenaline coursed through your veins.He had gotten the bleeding to stop,the red liquid had stained the already dying grass.You used your bandana to hold his ear down and bandaged.That had happened only a few months before you had lost your ring and became pretty much completely confined to the ocean.Since then Richard had tried his best to keep everything the same.When the first Blue died he was quick to find a similar looking grey hound from an animal shelter.He’d created a raft out of branches and grape vines and fitted sheets so he could float out to your cave.He put newspaper into plastic wrap so you could keep up with things going on in the land.He didnt go anywhere outside of North Carolina without telling you first.Pretty much his whole life revolved around you.

“Cool,cool.So are you visiting from somewhere?”She asked.You had gotten used to that question. “No,actually.I kind of just stay under the radar,you know?”You asked.She nodded. “So are you a kook or a pogue?”She asked.You shrugged,scratching your nose. “Um...I’d say its complicated.”You answered.She hummed. “Yeah,I get that.So where do you live?”She asked. “Between friends,I suppose.I should probably get this handsome baby home before he falls asleep.It was great meeting you though.”You grinned.She nodded. “Ill see you around,(Y/N).”She smiled.You walked back through the woods the same way you had came,eventually coming back out outside of Richard’s house.

You went through the back door,the dim kitchen light making you realize the scratches on your ankles.It brought a smile to your face.You felt like a normal teen girl for the time being and you knew you only had so long. “(Y/N)?Are you back?”Richard called from the living room. “Yep!”You shouted back before heading to the bathroom.You looked in the mirror,smiling at how dry your hair was.It was dry and hanging at your shoulders,not flowing in the water or getting pushed into your face by currents.The small slits behind your ear were covered with skin and you could move your feet in circles.You werent sure which part of your life you preferred.You turned on the faucet,staring at the water that flowed out of it.You turned it off,looking back up at the mirror angrily.Your sisters never had to deal with everything you had gone through.They were all dead anyways and only god knows how many others there were out there.Hell,there could be some walking around Outer Banks right now with their rings keeping them safe.The shit you would do to get your ring back was ridiculous.

At this point you might even kill for one. “Are you okay in there?”Richard shouted.You flicked the light off,coming out of the bathroom with your hand sin the pockets of your jeans. “Rich,I just met the girl.”You told him,standing in the doorway of the living room.He say up straight,placing his bag of skittles down. “What girl?”He asked.You sighed,sitting back down on the couch indian style. “The girl.The girl from the group I saw earlier today.Ive encountered all of them now,that cannot be a coincidence!”You exclaimed.He shrugged. “Well,lets not jump to conclusions now.You say the Maybank boy looks a lot like him,yeah?”He asked.You nodded. “Well then maybe he’s related to the fella.You still have your old photo albums in the caves?The ones I laminated for you?”He asked.You nodded,waiting for him to continue. “This might be jumping to conclusions but what if Jesse is related to him?”He asked.

You sighed,shaking your head. “No,no he never had any kids.”You answered.He grinned. “Yeah,he didnt.But that doesnt mean his older sister didnt.Linda,I think.Wasnt it something like that?”He asked.You gulped. “Linden.She died in 55’ though.I dont know if she ever had kids.How would we find that out?”You asked.His eyebrows knit together,the bags under his eyes seeming darker. “We have google now.Hand me my phone,please.”He requested.You grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter,looking at his screensaver.It was a picture of a sunset taken awfully close to your cave system.You remembered that sunset in particular because of how bright the pink and purple hues had been.You didnt remember him taking the photo though.You tossed it to him,the strange object falling into his lap. “Hey siri.”He spoke to his phone.A ding came from the device. “Show me all information on Linden Silslip.”He requested.A few articles came up so he handed the phone back to you for you to scroll through.It wasnt until you got to the very bottom that you found an article about “The Sea Monster of OBX” with and interview from Linden.You looked through the article,pressing down on Linden’s name.A whole page of information came up.You couldnt believe what you were seeing.

Comment a smiley face if youd like to be added to the tag list

@milamaybank @drewswannabegirl @teamnick @unmotivatedwritings  @danicarosaline @sexualparkour

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance Pt.2

Guzmán x Reader

Request by @twoghostsandelowen : Is it gonna be a Admittance part 2? maybe when Andér finds out or something? Please don’t leave me like that, i wanna know what’s happening next ❤️

Requests are open🤍

——————

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, let it out,” Guzmán encourages, rubbing your back as he held back your hair.

He’d been doing this far too often recently as you found yourself being sick at school more and more often. It had been a week since you’d been to the hospital to confirm that you were pregnant and still nobody else knew. You couldn’t even think of telling certain people - your brother being top of that list.

Guzmán pulls out a water bottle from his bag and hands it to you, “Here.”

You smile and take it from him as he pushes himself off from the floor of the girls bathrooms.

“Sorry you keep having to do this,” You comment with a groan as you stand up too.

He laughs a little, “Holding your hair back whilst you’re sick with the fear that anybody could walk into the toilets and see me here? You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs gently at you, wrapping an arm around you with ease.

“Come on, lets go before first period starts.”

Somehow, you’d managed to make this work for the full week. Guzmán had been texting you non-stop in the evenings to show you different articles he’d found or different blog pages that he thought explained pregnancy well. He’d even shown you articles about ‘how to tell the family’. He’d been there for you as he said he would be, granted it had only been a week. But there was something about the way he watched every single one of your movements in class that convinced you he would last longer than a week.

“Did you get the information through about the appointment?” Guzmán glances over his shoulder as he asks you, making sure the coast was clear before he even mentioned it.

“Yeah, it’s at the start of next week if that’s okay,” You nod, “I was actually thinking that Ander could come with us if-“

“If we’ve told him by then,” Guzmán finishes for you, “That’s a great idea (Y/n), but how are we supposed to tell him this?”

You go to respond just as Ander and Omar begin walking down the corridor towards you.

“Hey, guys,” Ander says with a slight frown at the sight of you two together again.

Guzmán greets him as if nothing is wrong as all four of you walk into class.

- - - - - -

“How come you’ve been spending so much time with Guzmán?” Ander asks you as the two of you wash the dishes from dinner.

“I told you, we’ve just been going through some revision - he’s really set on graduating this year so he’s asking for all of the help he can get.”

Graduating. Would you even be able to graduate anymore?

“Why did he only ask you?” Ander laughs, “If he wanted help, maybe he should’ve asked someone that could actually help him.”

You hit his arm and roll your eyes, “I’m not an idiot Ander.”

“If you say so! I’m heading out with Omar later, you can come with us if you want to? We’re just going for a few drinks,” Ander explains, drying his hands on the towel and handing it to you.

“No that’s okay, I’ll stay here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” You jab as he leaves to go and get ready.

You find yourself texting Guzmán straight away to say the coast would be clear. Your mother was at a board meeting this evening and Ander wouldn’t be around - perfect time for you two to talk through some things.

- - - - - -

And, as if by clockwork, Guzmán is sat opposite you only a five minutes after Ander and Omar had left.

“Okay, so I figured there’s a lot that we need to talk about so I thought we should just ask each other any questions that we have and just get it all out into the open. You know, no such thing as a stupid question and I-“

“I’ll go first,” Guzmán places a hand on your knee from where he’d mimicked your position of sitting cross legged on the bed, “How are you feeling?”

You take in a deep breath and try to calm yourself, “I’m okay, I’ve eaten a bit more today and actually kept it down. I feel a bit off balance? I didn’t really expect that.”

“I mean there’s another person in your belly, I’m not surprised if that feels a bit weird.”

“It’s not another person,” You roll your eyes, “Theyre only like this big.”

“Okay, okay,” Guzmán smiles, “Your question.”

“How are you feeling?”

He shifts in his position, legs not exactly fitting into crossing like yours did, “Im fine (Y/n), honestly.”

“Did you mean what you said? About being there through it all?”

“I think it’s my turn to ask a question,” He cocks a brow, “Why would you think I wouldn’t mean it?”

You sigh, “It’s a big commitment Guzmán! And in nine months from now, you should be going out into the world and graduating and starting your future. You shouldn’t be tied down to me or to this whole situation just because of one summer.”

“(Y/n), this whole ‘situation’ was because of both of us. The baby might be inside you but it’s still half mine and half yours. I’d be a pretty shitty person if I expected that to mean I’d never have any responsibility. I know I might not be the model guy to have a baby with but I wouldn’t have chosen you either,” He jokes, nudging your leg slightly, “I meant what I said, if that answers your question.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “This is big, Guzmán.”

He frowns mockingly, “I thought you said it was only this big so far.”

You roll your eyes and reach out a foot to jab him in the ribs. He jumps back and laughs, hopping off of the bed and coming round to wrap an arm around you.

“One good thing about having a baby with me - you don’t have to worry about it being ugly,” He points out, “As long as it looks more like me than you.”

You elbow him in the ribs this time as he laughs but still doesn’t release his arm from around you. So the two of you stay like that together for a long time, asking each other different questions whenever they popped into your head - so much so that you don’t even pick up on the time.

- - - - - -

A few hours must have passed when you bolt awake, Guzmán still beside you having fallen asleep too.

“Guzmán,” You hiss, nudging at his sleeping frame to wake him up, “Guzmán!”

He groans and blinks the fatigue out of his eyes, “What time is it?”

“We fell asleep! Ander and Omar will be back any mi-“

As if you’d set off a terrible chain of reactions, you hear as Ander’s key pushes into the door and he comes into your home.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out and it’s like you’re practically following his path through the house to look for you.

Right up until the moment that he’s stood at your doorway. Omar follows behind and the look that you share tells you he knows this doesn’t end well already.

“Is this studying too?” Ander gestures between the two of you sat on the bed, “Seems like you two have been doing a hell of a lot of studying recently.”

“Ander I can explain-“

“Why don’t you both explain yourselves? What’s this? Some secret affair behind my back?” Ander scoffs, “You couldn’t have just told me?”

“It’s not what you think, honestly,” You continue, “Ander please just calm down.”

“Calm down?” He laughs, “You seriously think you two can just be together and not think I’m going to react? You’re fucking my best friend, (Y/n).”

“Ander!” Guzmán pipes up, stepping forward to stand beside you, “She doesn’t need this kind of stress, okay? Can we be mature about this?”

Ander laughs outwardly, “How would you know what the hell she needs?”

“Because she’s pregnant with my child Ander.”

The words fall like boulders to the ground below, practically dropping the temperature another five degrees as they do. You were certain that it wasn’t the baby causing the sickness that bubbled inside you.

Guzmán looks at you like he’s just done the worst thing imaginable, helplessness seeping into those eyes like he’s terrified of your reaction. He didn’t seem to care about what Ander would say - just you.

“You’re pregnant?” Ander’s shoulders drop like he’s lost his ability to fight back.

“I promise I was going to tell you soon, I just wanted to be sure of everything first and I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“You got my sister pregnant?” Ander turns all of his attention to Guzmán, “You couldn’t keep your fucking hands away from her, huh?”

“It wasn’t like that, it was never like that, it was over summer an-“ Guzmán tries to continue, looking more innocent than ever as he stumbles over his words.

Ander stops him quickly as he grips onto the material of Guzman’s shirt and shoves him against the wall, face close to his as he seethes with unstopping anger, “You could’ve gone for anybody, anybody! And you went for my sister? My fucking twin sister?!”

Guzmán doesn’t respond.

“And now what? You get her pregnant and expect her whole life to change just because of one of your mistakes?!” Ander yells, “You make me fucking sick!”

With that, he shoves Guzmán to the side and comes straight over to you. It’s like an instant switch as soon as you’re in his sight. He was seeing you in a completely different light - someone he needed to protect now more than ever.

“I want you tell me everything okay, everything I can do, whenever you need me an-“

“Ander,” You settle a hand on his arm, “I won’t be on my own. We’re-“

“Don’t tell me you think he’s going to stay by your side through this,” Ander shakes his head, looking between you and Guzmán, “You’re both as delirious as each other.”

With that, he gives up on both of you and storms back out of the room. You were relieved when Omar followed quickly after him, you dreaded the thought of him being alone after something like that.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry, it just slipped out and I-“ Guzmán sighs, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t find any energy in you to respond and instead turn and wrap your arms around him, letting him hold you close and confirm to you that you wouldn’t be alone. You couldn’t believe that Ander was right. The thought of being a mother was terrifying enough, let alone being a single mother before the baby was even born.

- - - - - -

Guzmán went home late that night and you’d passed Anders room to see him sleeping beside Omar -relieved that there wouldn’t be anymore arguments for the rest of the night.

The next morning would be a different matter.

“Morning, Omar,” You say as you’re walking down the stairs and he’s just about to walk up.

“Hey,” He offers you a small smile.

“How is he?”

He glances over to the dining room where Ander was sat staring aimlessly into a cup of coffee, “He took it pretty hard last night, and I think he’s trying to process everything. I think more than anything he regrets what he said to you both but he’s too proud to admit it.”

You nod and keep your eyes focused on your brother, “Thank you, I’ll see you later, okay? Or I’ll shout for help if I need it.”

He laughs and squeezes your arm for some slight reassurance before you head through to the kitchen.

Ander glances up as you walk in, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “Morning. Did you sleep okay?”

You pour yourself some juice and sit across from him at the island, “Yeah, did you?”

He nods, “Eventually, took me a while to switch my mind off.”

You look down, “Me too.”

The silence falls and it breaks your heart a little to know you’d caused all of this.

“I’m sorry for how it happened, Ander. I never wanted you to find out like that.”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I didn’t expect to find out I’d be an uncle that way either.”

“I guess not, but you’re still going to be an uncle.”

“How far along are you?” He glances up, eyes flicking to your stomach for just a moment.

“Six weeks, I have my first scan next week. They should be able to detect a heartbeat by then,” You explain, “I only told Guzmán last week.”

“What happened over summer?” Ander continues, “I don’t need all of the details.”

You smile a little, “I’m not sure I know either. Guzmán and I spent a lot more time together than normal and one thing led to another. It wasn’t just a one time thing.”

“So you two are together now?”

“No, no,” You half-laugh, “I knew how you’d react to that, it didn’t seem worth the risk.”

“And he’s willing to be there for you and to father this child?” Ander continues, like he was forcing the pieces of the puzzle to connect in his head.

“I believe him Ander, he’s been really supportive so far and he wants whats best for me, and for the baby,” You encourage, “It’s his baby just as much as it is mine.”

“Okay,” Ander takes a deep breath, setting his coffee down onto the table, “Im not saying I completely believe, or trust, him but I trust your judgement. And I want you to know that if anyone is capable of doing something like this - God it would be you. And you’re not going to be on your own.”

You smile and reach over the table to squeeze his hand, “Thank you, Ander.”

“Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar, huh?” He grins, “I like the sound of that.”

You laugh and it feels like the best thing he could’ve said in that moment. It feels like everything you needed to hear wrapped into one small morning conversation between just you two.

Uncle Ander and Uncle Omar. It did have a nice ring to it.

[might-guys-acorn]

do u have any hc's for weird facts about the konoha 11 (+sasuke)?

Yes! These babies are full of weird lil quirks. -🦎

===============================

Naruto

Will have mini existential crisis' over dumb things. "Why do we blend things if theyre just gonna get all mushed up in our stomachs anyway? Are blenders just mechanical teeth???"

Has awful impulse control. Not just in battle, but little things too. Unties every shoelace in reach. What sound will this make if I drop it? Pocket? Let me put my hand in it

Has to jump up to touch the doorframe before he can exit any room. He's that kid, and we all know it.

Sasuke

Mumbles things under his breath, esp if hes annoyed. "Shut up and pay for your groceries, Joyce, the cashier doesnt care about your dog's surgeries."

Takes forever to order when eating out. Nothing sounds good, but maybe if I reread the menu 4 more times something will?

Accidentally activates his sharigan when hes surprised. Wouldnt be a big deal, but when hes stuck in the market and dodging everyone dramatically for 20 minutes, it gets a little annoying.

Sakura

Squeals at all cute things. Could see a particularly tiny ladle for a dollhouse and break everyones eardrums from excitement

Looks off into pretend sitcom cameras when someone has said something particularly dumb to her. Sometimes even makes up a laughtrack in her head, just to recover from other's stupidity.

Uses every single dish in the kitchen when she cooks. Theres no way for her to make a meal without simultaneously making a huge mess

Ino

Stops to smell every flower she sees. Its in her genes and shes done it for as long as she can remember

Goes to stores just to put on formal dresses and look at herself. Then always goes home and cries because she'll never have anything to wear them to.

Sings in the shower. At the top of her lungs. Or has imaginary conversations with people, and gets internally annoyed when they dont stick to her script in real life.

Shikamaru

Cant eat at a restaurant without being able to see the door. Will literally wait an extra 20 min for the booth closest to the exit.

Makes shadow puppets in his room when he cant sleep. Would die if anyone found out, but he gets bored, okay?

Has the same glow in the dark stars on his ceiling from when he was 5. Hes too lazy to take them down, and Choji makes fun of him for it everytime he sees them

Choji

Can't clean unless there's music on. Doing laundry is impossible unless he's dancing along to whatever is on the radio

Takes 30 seconds to pick out an outfit but will stand with the fridge open for hours trying to figure out the best snack

Hates wearing socks by themselves. Theyre all the restriction of shoes with none of the protection. Either put shoes on, or dont, but dont get halfway there and give up.

Kiba

Doesnt know how to feel about foxes. He loves dogs, but hates cats and a fox is almost both??? So what do I do with this information? It literally keeps him up at night.

Trips people for fun. Wont actually try to make you fall, but cant help but stick his foot out if you walk past him

Uses Akamaru as a wingman. Nothing gets ladies more than a cute guy with a cute dog, so he might as well use that to his advantage

Hinata

Says "Ow" everytime she hears a loud noise. Wont even be hurt, just cant stop herself.

Goes through times where she has to completely rearrange her room. Feels like shes turned her life around by the time shes done, swears nothing will be messy again, and gives up on cleaning after 2 weeks.

Loves astrology, and has mini conversations about it in her head. "Sasuke has been super weird lately" "Well mercury is retrograde, sooo"

Shino

Owns 30 pairs of sunglasses but only wears 1. The others just sit in his dresser collecting dust because he convinced himself he'd start wearing them but never will

Yells at his bugs like theyre children. "Pincer if you dont stop throwing a temper tantrum right now, Ill got home"

Will never take the last of anything, but wont get rid of the container until its empty. Always has a mostly empty milk carton sitting in his fridge next to a full one, because theres still milk in there!!! I cant waste it!!!!

Lee

Literally hates sleeping. Its such a waste of perfectly good time. Just because its dark does not mean I cannot enjoy my youth!!

Discovers and drops hobbies in the blink of an eye. Has so many unfinished projects lying around, from half-finished novels to a sweater he tried knitting but gave up after one sleeve

Unironically gives people finger guns all the time. He tells a semi-decent joke? Finger guns. Sees someone training? Finger guns. Confesses his love? You guessed it. Finger. Guns.

Tenten

Puts a gold star on her bedroom mirror when she does a good job on a mission. Its like a visual reminder that shes important to her team.

Has to run her fingers along every fence she walks by. Its a subconscious thing she does, and she doesnt even know why.

Sleeps with a knife under her pillow. Not for protection, but just because shes emotionally attached to it. Its her pillow knife, and she loves it.

Neji

Pretends like he knows everything. Even if he doesn't. "Did you hear about what they said in the news?" "Of course I did." *runs away to check the paper*

Falls asleep in strange positions. Once he woke up with his legs straight up against the wall and couldn't walk for 10 minutes from the lack of bloodflow

Secretly loves gossip. Will eavesdrop on strangers conversations just for the tea *cue 'oh my god, they were roommates' vine*

[midnigtartist]

6. The super long kiss that wasn’t intended

He knows he should be watching the treeline. Sat beside Nott at the front of the cart, Molly knows that he ought to be scanning the tree line for any potential threats to their merry band as they weave their way through the valley. But he just can’t seem to get himself to focus on the slow passing trees as Nein marches southward. His gaze keeps slipping from the road, as he glanced over his shoulder at the wizard curled up in the back of the cart.

As to be expected, he’s got a book propped up in his lap. One of the spellbook he keeps strapped to his side, Molly notes, as he carefully and meticulously sifts through their recent spoils. The faint hum of arcane energy hangs in the air around him. It pricks at the back of Molly’s neck, making the hair there stand on edge and that’s why he’s been so distracted, and certainly not because Caleb looks so darling and content with his task, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips.

No, Molly thinks wryly to himself, it’s certainly nothing to do with that. Not at all.

He swings his legs over the side of the cart bench, earning and disgruntled yelp from Nott as she’s jostled by the movement. Molly ignores this, instead watching Caleb’s, dare he says, giddy smile as the pearl clasped tight in his hand dulls, and he picks up the bracelet he’s been inspecting. Sliding off the bench, Mollymauk seats himself cross legged at the perimeter of Caleb’s pile of spoils, resting his cheek to his fist.

“Anything interesting?”

Caleb starters, but only a little, his head jolting up and eyes blinking as he takes in the new addition to his ring of shiny things. Molly offers him a curling, close mouth smile in lue of a proper greeting.

Caleb nods, pulling at his beard. “Ja, this-” he gestured vaguely over the lot of stuff, a crooked grin on his face. “This ist gut. There is a lot a usefully things here.”

“Almost finished then?” Molly asks.

“Oh yah, I just have to look over these rings for Jester, you know, and then that will be all of it but ahhhh- you have come over here? Is- is there something you need?” the thrill the magic gives him, seems to bear wearing off and Molly can see Caleb slowly receding back into his shell. And that simply won’t do.

He shrugs “Not particularly. This is fascinating, by the way.”

Caleb lowers his gaze to his spellbook. He twiddles and twists the pearl between his fingers and Molly tracks the movement because that’s fascinating too. Caleb’s long fingers rolling the small bead between them is truly something and he can feel the slight flush crawling up his neck.

“You have seen me identify objects before,,,” Caleb mutters.

“And I find it thrilling every time!” he says. He leans forward so his elbows are pressed into his knees. “I think it’s just wonderful, that. How you can learn all of that stuff just from looking at it for a few minutes. It’s very impressive!”

Caleb shrugs, but Molly spies a phantom of a smile touching the corner of his mouth and he finds himself beaming all the wider for it.

“Well you know, there is a bit more to it then that but it is ahhh,, nerd shit.”

“What I’ve learned from traveling with the lot of you terrible people is that nerd shit tends to be the shit that keeps us alive. It’s very useful shit. Don’t sell your shit short Caleb, it’s very good shit! Quality, even.” he says. Somewhere to the right of him, he can hear Jester cackling. He keeps his eyes and his smile trained on Caleb, who’s actually turned a bit to face him.

“Ha ha.” it’s not a laugh, not really. It more just the noise, but it’s so endearing that Molly’s insides squirm with delight at the sound. “I suppose you are right- about that at least.”

“You’d be surprised by how much I’m right about, actually.” Molly says.

This time Caleb does laugh, even if all it is a huff of air. “Mister Mollymauk.”

“Mister Caleb”

The pearl rolls between his thumb and forefinger. “Would you like learn a magic trick? I, you know, I have tried teaching Jester before, and umm, Beauregard but, they don’t, well, they really do not have the patience for this sort of thing.”

He cocks his head to the side. “And you think I do?”

“I have seen you mend your coat.” Caleb says, actually leveling his clear blue gaze on Molly, effectively pinning him in place. “That embroidery is your handy work, hmm? Something like that takes a lot of time.”

Molly draws back so that he’s sitting up straight. “Well as flattering as it is to know you keep eye on me.” Caleb flushes. “-I don’t think I’m quite clever enough to do what it is you do dear.”

Magic, at least, the magic Caleb does, seems to require a lot of reading, and reading has never really agreed with Mollymauk Tealeaf. It makes his eyes hurt and his whole brain revolt against him, can even give him a terrible headache if he forces himself to work at it for too long.

Caleb’s brows draw together, forming deep creases between his eyes. “It is not that hard.” he says.

Molly flashes him a tight smile. “Yes, but I’m not that smart.”

The wizard shuts his spellbook with a forceful snap that makes Molly’s tail jump and curl up behind him. “Come here, Mollymauk.” Caleb says, commands really, Molly thinks with a shiver. “I will not force you, if you do not wish, but do not withhold just because you think that you might not be clever enough. I will be the judge of that.”

“Well when you put it so nicely,,,” Molly says, praying to the Weaver that he sound relatively unaffected by whatever that was. He slides over so that he’s sitting next to Caleb, instead of across from him. “So, what will I be learning then?”

Caleb hesitates, but only for a moment before he opens his book back up, and shuffles over so that Molly can see the pages, balancing it on his knee.

“Something simple, I think.”

“Oh goody.”

Even the creak of the branches in the wind sounds ominous, which Molly thinks is rather ridiculous and painfully cliche. His blade, glowing with a warm, white light, is wrapped up in the tails of his coat to dull it’s radiance as Molly creeps along low in the brush. The Nein had decided, against Molly’s better judgement, decided to travel a few hours past sunset.

“The next town isn’t that far, guys.” Jester had told them, brandishing the map with the same ferocity with which she handles her sickle. “We’ve been on the road for daaaaaaaaaaays and my feet are getting all tired and gross from walking so much and I just want to sleep in a bed and not in the grass and wake up with like, bugs in my hair and stuff.”

So they’d marched on, and now they’re paying the price because not only is it a good couple of hour past sunset, but they’d been assaulted by some ruffians. Taking advantage of the exhausted state of the party, they’d managed to stop them, rob them, and make off with Jester’s haversack of holding. With so much of their valuable shit in that bag, they’d decided to give chase, and had gotten spread pretty thin in the processes. Which, isn’t such a bad thing, Molly’d been able to pick off a few of the bandits, spread thin themselves, quickly and quietly. But he’s worried about everyone else. If they were unlucky enough to run into more of the bastards then they could handle alone, with Jester possible very, very far away. That could make things a bit more sticky.

Of course, they’re all pretty capable, decently strong. And yet,,, Molly’s worried about some, specifically squishy members of their party.

He’ll- they’ll be fine.

He marches on deeper into the woods.

A bit of time later, the sound of muffled voices hit Molly’s ears. Not long after does he spy the flicker of firelight through the leaves, painting speckled shadows along forest floor.

Molly pauses a moment, tucking himself against a rotting old tree trunk. Peeking over the top of it he can just barely make out a group of darkened figured, hooting and hollering like idiots around a makeshift camp. Why do petty thieves always do that? Make a whole fucking ton of noise that gives away their position. Every single band of thieves he’s ever run into does it. It’s just not smart. Though, if they were smart enough to understand that they probably wouldn’t be out here robbing well seasoned mercenary groups, he thinks. He counts the shadows, or at least he tries to. The back lighting from the fire is fucking up his night vision but he thinks he sees four or five distinct individuals. Too many to take out alone.

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he pulls out a little piece of wire. Its difficult, harder with only one hand, but he manages to wrap the bit of copper around his finger and brings it up to his lips. He points out into the woods in the general direction he thinks he saw people running. “Found a group of them. Looks like five maybe? North. Just past that one rock that looks remarkably like a penis. Oh ! and you can reply to this message” he whispers into his fist.

Molly does this eight more time, hoping that if he casts a wide enough net he’ll be able to get in touch with at least some of the Nein. Between not knowing exactly where everyone is and the, frankly concerning, fizzle of the spell against his lips he not sure how many of them got the message. On the fourth time, he hears Jester’s cackling rattling around in his skull. It’s a horrible bizarre feeling that makes his skin tingle,and not even in the fun way.  On the sixth one he hears Beau’s exasperated “real fucking mature, man” and has to stifle a chuckle. On the last one, it’s Caleb’s voice ringing around in his skull.

“I see the rock you are talking about. oh- ja it does look like a dick.” He says. “I am making my way over to you now.”

Molly waits, one eye on the trees around him, one on the group of bandits, watching for any strange movement. Maybe one of them will come over here to take a piss. He could take them out nice and quite, and that would be one less shit head to deal with.

The bushes to his right rustle and Molly tightens his grip on his sword. Caleb comes sprinting out of the underbrush towards him, crouched low to the ground to avoid being spotted. Molly can’t even even get a word of greeting out before Caleb is suddenly upon him, hands reaching to curl around the lapel of his coat.

The wizard is positively beaming at him, his face cracked with a wide smile Molly has only ever seen him give Nott. His eyes are practically glowing, wide and excited and full of pride. He’s on Molly in an instant huddled against the rotten log alongside him and Molly is stunned.

“You cast message!” Caleb says, barely able to keep his voice to a stage whisper for the excitement. His hands come up, cupping Molly’s face between them and immediately the teifling feels himself start to color. Thumbs rub over his cheeks, Caleb squishing his face between his calloused palms “You cast the spell, you did the thing that I showed you! Oh! I am so proud! I am so proud of you! You are brilliant Mollymauk. I could kiss you!”

Well, that makes Molly’s heart do all sorts of ill advised and complicated gymnastics in his chest.

He puts a shaking hand on Caleb’s knee. “Don’t say thing you don’t intent to follow through on, Mister Caleb.”

Brain seeming to have caught up with his mouth, Caleb pales, then flushes a deep scarlet. His hand stay cupped around Molly’s cheeks, though they do lessen they’re squeezing a bit. His gaze falls past Molly’s right shoulder. “I ahh- right. I was- well I got a little excited I suppose,,,”

“Happens to the best of us.” he gives Caleb leg a friendly jiggle “Your secret’s safe with me”

Caleb chuckles.

They don’t move. They’re still dreadfully, painfully close. Annoyingly, not close enough. He watches as Caleb’s gaze flickers back over to his face. Watches the way his sharp, ever curious blue eyes trace the curve of his palm where it’s pressed into Molly cheek, all the way down to the corner of his mouth. He leans in.

The center of gravity suddenly shifts and Mollymauk Tealeaf finds himself crashing against Caleb’s warm mouth. Its quick, but it’s everything.

Caleb presses his lips firmly to Mollymauk’s for a brief moment, pulling him in with the fingers still curved around his jaw. Molly gasps, fingers tightening around the fabric of Caleb’s pant leg. He lets his eyes flutter shut. And then the warmth is gone and Molly opens his eyes to see the wizard staring at him, wide eyed and flushed. Still his hands don’t move from Molly’s face.

“I should not have done that. I-”

Molly brings his other hand up to the back of Caleb’s neck and pulls him forward. Their lips meet again and Molly can taste the crackle of arcane power that lingers on them. It shoots a thrill down his spine. The hand on Caleb’s knee tangles into the coarse fur lining of his coat and Molly sigh, deep and wanting against the other man’s mouth.

To his glorious surprise, Caleb responds in kind. His hands begin to move, one sliding down his face to rest at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, those long, scholarly fingers spanning across his throat, making Molly shiver. The other tangles into the short curls at the back of his neck, drawing Molly even closer.

Molly breaths through the kiss, eyes shut tight as he focuses on the feeling. Of dry and ragged ruined lips against his own. On the slight scratch of stubble against his chin and the rough pads of Caleb’s fingers on his skin. He feels exactly like he looks, coarse and rough around the edges. Nothing like the soft, sweet smelling hired company that Molly’s used to. He finds he likes this much better. The earthy smell that clings to weather battered skin, mixed in with faint hints of whatever spell components line Caleb’s pockets. Licorice and molasses.

Caleb sighs against him, tilting his head for a better angle.  Molly puts all other thoughts out of his head. Forgets about the bandits at his back, and his friends stomping through the underbrush. Even forgets about their stole bag of good. He put his facilities to better use, memorizing the shape and heat of Caleb’s lips against his own

Molly parts his lips and prods at Caleb’s lower lip with the twin prongs of his forked tongue, makes a soft sound of pleasure as Caleb’s fingers tighten in his hair. Caleb jumps under his hands, pulling away. He desperately wants to follow, but Molly let him go, keeping fingers folded against the lapels of his coat, half  to keep himself grounded, half to keep Caleb from bolting before he can find his voice again.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He crooks out after a moment.

Caleb stares at him with blown out blue eyes. He swallows, runs a hand across his jaw. His fingers linger against his lips. “Ja- okay,,, That was ahhh-”

“That was good.” Molly assures him, stroking fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Caleb nods, looking a little unsure. “Gut, ja. You know, uhh maybe we should- should, you know- maybe we could do that again, sometime. But I think we should probably take care of those bandits first.”

A smile splits Molly’s face. “Think we can take them, just the two of us?

“No.” Caleb hands come back around to cup his cheeks, then slip down, coming  to rest against the front of Molly’s coat “We are pretty tough, but you said that there were at least five of them. I do not want us taking any unnecessary risks.” he starts fidgeting with Molly’s coat, adjusting it on his shoulder and smoothing out the silk with his hands. “Clever boy.” Molly says, fondness laced into his words.

Caleb doesn’t meet his gaze, but he does smile.

The sound of twigs snapping catch their attention and moments later Beau comes slinking out of the bushes, a new bruise swelling up over her eye. Caleb hands fall away. Molly keeps fingers pressed lightly against the side of his knee.

“That’s a good look on you.” he says, once Beau is close enough.

“Thanks asshole.” Beau wedges her way between the two of them, elbowing Molly in the stomach as she does.  

He whizzes out a pained laugh.

[inyournightmares97]

My Youth (Chapter 6)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, death, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 5.7k+

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5)

“-Mom, I’m busy,” Jinyoung muttered into the phone. He had been sitting in a crucial meeting with the Finance Director of GOT Tech and representatives of the Financial Regulatory Board. Receiving approval for his company to go public was one of the most critical and risky steps in Jinyoung’s career.

His mother, however, had been calling him constantly for the last twenty minutes.

Mrs. Park sounded upset. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung, dear. I just needed to reach you-”

“Mom, I’m in an extremely important meeting right now. Do you know how it looks when the Managing Director of GOT Group keeps getting calls from his mother during business meetings? What do you want from me?” Jinyoung demanded in a frustrated whisper, running his fingers through his hair. He tried not to let his agitation show on his face; the other high-profile attendees of the meeting could still see him through the glass wall of the conference room.

“Jinyoung, there’s been a terrible tragedy in town,” his mother began nervously. “I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this, but i suppose there’s no easy way to talk about a death.  Remember I told you that I’ve been going to the hospital every day to meet-”

Jinyoung felt a burst of irritation. The clock was ticking. The Board members were waiting for him impatiently and he could see the disapproval on their faces. “Mom, did you call me to tell me that someone died?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Mom, I have been preparing for this presentation for months. The future of my company depends on this meeting. This is absolutely the worst time you could have chosen to tell me something like this,” Jinyoung muttered through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Please don’t mess up my focus right now. We can talk about this later. Do you need anything from me urgently?”

Mrs. Park hesitated. “You always seem to be busy these days. I just thought… if we could maybe help out with the funeral expenses or the hospital bills…”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. “Mom, you can just call my secretary for that. She’ll send you whatever amount you need. Send them flowers from me or something, okay? I have to go now.”

“Take care, Jinyoung, dear-”

“Bye, Mom.”

Jinyoung hung up and sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. His personal secretary had followed him out of the room and was watching him nervously. He hadn’t even asked his mother who it was that had passed away. Was it somebody he knew? Maybe it was best that he didn’t think about it too much for now.

“Take my Mom’s call and ask her who died, send them money for the funeral and all those formalities,” Jinyoung told his secretary shortly. She nodded and made a note of it on her phone quickly while Jinyoung cleared his mind.

Focus. The presentation. The numbers.  

Jinyoung took a deep, calming breath and plastered a rehearsed smile on his face before he turned to enter the conference room once more.

“I’m so sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting,” Jinyoung greeted all the well-dressed men with a bright smile. “I hope you can forgive me. Mothers seem to have a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?”

The men chuckled politely. “That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Park.”

“May I begin the presentation?”

“Please, do.”

--------

Jinyoung believed that to achieve something great, you needed to make certain sacrifices.

He had always known that the path he was embarking upon was not an easy one. Establishing your own business meant that you didn't get off work at 5 pm sharp, you couldn’t spend your weekends at a countryside cabin or getting drinks with your friends. You needed to keep working until things got done. You needed to compete in the market. You needed to be strong enough to pick up after your losses and clever enough to make friends in the right places. People were depending on you.

Jinyoung hadn’t merely chosen a career, he had chosen a life.

A very lonely life.

Whenever his mother would call him and try to have a casual chat, Jinyoung would find himself irritated. Who cared whether Mrs. Lee from the grocery store was giving a discount on strawberry bread? What did it matter if Mr. Cha had been trying to sell his little farmland? There was important work to be done. Jinyoung needed to talk to the advertising agents to make sure his products were being launched properly, he needed to negotiate discounts with suppliers to ensure he could meet the planned pricing goals. There were employees relying on him. There were investors who had trusted him with their money. There were quarterly goals that had to be met.

Every second of Jinyoung’s time was precious. Why couldn’t everyone understand that? Why couldn’t his mother stop thinking that her tiny little world in this tiny little town was everything, and understand the importance of what her son was doing?

There are a limited number of hours every man has at his disposal. We each make a conscious choice regarding how to spend each one.

It was only now, standing in front of your mother’s grave, that Jinyoung came a terrifying realization.

He had made the wrong choices.

------

“It was heart failure,” Mrs. Park whispered.

Jinyoung’s hands clutched the cup of tea firmly. It was hot and uncomfortable, but not more than the sick feeling in his stomach. Every word his mother spoke made him feel more pathetic.

What had he been doing all those months while your mother was in hospital and when she’d died? Preparing for his company to go public? Sitting in meetings and sucking up to corporate officials? Only to be fired and thrown out of the company. Only to have missed the death of somebody who had trusted him and cared for him.

“But she couldn’t have been that old…” Jinyoung muttered.

Mrs. Park shook her head softly. “She’d always had a weak heart, Jinyoung. Her health was fragile and after her husband passed away she had no choice but to work to support her daughter. All those long hours and late nights for years… they took their toll in the end. She had her first stroke three years ago. She was in hospital for a few weeks and then she had the second one; the one that took her life.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes, remembering your mother in his mind’s eye.

“She always looked tired. And worried.”

“She was.” Mrs. Park reached out and placed a hand over her son’s nervously. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung. I should have told you about it sooner. But you were always so busy in Seoul, always doing important things. It never seemed like the right time to tell you about something so devastating. It’s my fault.”

Jinyoung let out a small scoff. “Don’t take the blame on yourself. That doesn’t help me.”

Mrs. Park looked upset. “Jinyoung-”

She was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Jinyoung closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple while he listened to his father go to the door and yell at the person on the other side. The reporters had already found his home address. They had started arriving one-by-one since this morning. Each of them desperately wanted an interview with Park Jinyoung, the man who had lost his empire overnight. They wanted to know what he had to say about his dismissal from his own company.

Mr. Park re-entered the living room and sighed. “They’re getting more persistent. I think I should call the local police before they start trying to shove their way into our house.”

Jinyoung nodded and stood up. “I’ll go down to the police station myself and ask them to send someone to deal with this harrassment. Mom, you’ve told everyone we know to deny any reporters who request them for an interview, right?”

“Yes, but is it really a good idea for you to be going outside now-”

“I think I’ll lose my mind if I stay indoors,” Jinyoung muttered. He grabbed the black hoodie that was slung over the back of the sofa and glanced at his parents. They were both looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

Jinyoung felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him; why should they have to deal with so much because of his mistakes? Why was he always the one taking and yet never giving?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I’ll try and be back for dinner.”

------

Jinyoung’s legs carried him naturally towards the elementary school.

Perhaps it was a subconscious urge to see you, even though he had no idea what he would say if you really appeared before him. Anything Jinyoung could have said to help should have been said three years ago. Words like I’m sorry seemed like an insensitive joke at this point; too little and far too late.

Jinyoung sat silently on the bench by the schoolyard with his face covered by his dark hoodie, and wondered how his life had brought him to this point.

Left with nothing with shame.

“Ahjussi!”

By the time Jinyoung looked up, there was already a tiny figure running straight towards him at full speed. He flinched and braced himself for the impact; only to have the small boy stop centimetres away from him and throw his arms around him happily. Jinyoung stiffened.

“What-”

“Ahjussi, you are Park Jinyoung!” Ki-woo cried delightedly. The boy was beaming. Jinyoung noticed for the first time that one of his front teeth was missing, but it was still one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. “Miss told me yesterday! Why did you lie and say you weren't? I can’t believe the King of the Playground walked me home after school and I didn’t even know!”

Jinyoung couldn’t resist a small smile. The sight of the little boy bouncing on his feet warmed him for a moment and he patted Ki-woo on the head. “If somebody asked Clark Kent if he was Superman, he wouldn’t say yes, now would he?”

Ki-woo’s eyes widened in understanding. “Wow. That’s so true! You’re so cool!”

“You’ll have to keep my secret.”

“Of course I will! Ahjussi, can you tell me how you did it? How did you manage to climb the oak tree?” Ki-woo demanded, grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and tugging on it eagerly. “You have to tell me, you just have to! Were you really tall?”

Jinyoung blinked. “Tall? Not particularly…”

“Then how? How did you do it?”

Jinyoung opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by a loud yell. He had been so preoccupied with Ki-woo that he hadn’t noticed the much larger man that was making his way across the school yard. Jackson Wang had a huge smile on his face and without greeting, he threw his arms around Jinyoung in a fierce hug.

“Park Jinyoung! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Jackson cried happily. He pulled back and noticed the blank look on Jinyoung’s face. With a frown, he pointed to himself eagerly. “Remember me? Jackson! Jackson Wang! You used to pass me all the answers in History class!”

Jinyoung swallowed. “Uh…”

“Mr. Wang, you’re friends with Park Jinyoung?” Ki-woo asked, his mouth gaping open.

Jackson blinked and looked down at the boy sheepishly. “Ah, Ki-woo. I didn’t see you down there. Didn’t your teacher tell you to wait inside until someone came to pick you up? Go back indoors now.”

Ki-woo pouted. “But-”

“Nope. Back inside. Now.”

Jackson waited until Ki-woo began to slouch back towards the school building and then turned back to Jinyoung. “Man, you’re pretty much the celebrity around these parts now, eh? We had a couple of reporters come by the school this morning, asking for anyone who used to know you. You have nothing to worry about! I scared them off. These babies aren’t here for nothing,” Jackson beamed and flexed his bare bicep.

Jinyoung didn’t really know how to respond. “Nice.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You do remember me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course-”

“We should get drinks sometime and catch up now that you’re back in town! Man, I really owe you. You did me a solid one that Christmas before you left, remember? I’ll buy you a couple of beers at the pub. What’s your phone number?” Jackson demanded.

“I don’t really have a phone right now…”

“Don’t have a phone?” Jackson looked confused. “Weird but okay. I guess I can always ask Miss First Grade to get in touch with you. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me you were back in town!” he cried, slapping Jinyoung’s arm playfully. “Hold on… you’re here to see her, aren’t you?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Not exactly…”

Jackson chuckled knowingly. “No worries, man. I’ve got your back. I need to go inside and take care of the kids now, so I’ll tell her to come out and meet you here, yeah? Let me know if any more of those reporters come around. I’ll take handle them for you!”

Jinyoung forced a smile. “Thanks-”

“No problem, man. It’s what friends are for. We’ll catch up soon!”

“Sure.”

Jinyoung watched Jackson half-run back to the school building, letting out a sigh of relief. Each person he came across in this town seemed to remember something about him and the one who possessed the most dangerous knowledge was Jackson Wang. In addition to having been the resident supplier of inappropriate magazines and the one who’d convinced Jinyoung to try his first cigarette behind the park back in high school, Jackson simply knew a little too much about everybody.

Jinyoung sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. He just realized that Jackson had said he would send you out to meet him. Why hadn’t he told him not to? He wasn’t prepared to face you. Idiot.

It was a few minutes before you emerged from the school building and walked towards Jinyoung. There was a pleasant smile on your face as you approached, and it made Jinyoung’s stomach turn. How could you smile at him like that? How could you be so calm about everything?

“Jinyoung,” you greeted him, confused. “Should you be roaming around out here? There are reporters buzzing all around town.”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah, I know. Jackson said he drove them away...”

You rolled your eyes. “That idiot Jackson Wang? He was fully prepared to seize his five minutes of fame by telling them how you used to help him cheat in History class. I had to step in and force him to deny the request for an interview,” you muttered. Jinyoung’s eyes widened and you gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I sent a message to the principal of the middle school and the high school. Nobody’s going to give any interviews about you.”

Jinyoung felt small.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Did they find your house?”

“Yeah. They’ve been knocking the door all day. It’s really starting to bother Mom and Dad.”

Your expression was sympathetic. “Should I call the police?”

“Don’t worry. I was going to go down to the station myself and ask them to send someone to get rid of the reporters,” Jinyoung reassured you. He felt his heartbeat thump wildly as he looked at your gently smiling face. Should he say it? Should he talk about the elephant in the room? Even though he hadn’t prepared what to say?

“About… about last night…”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He sighed. “About your mother. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I know that’s no excuse, but I should have been there and-”

You cut him off with a forced smile. “Jinyoung. It’s okay. It’s not like you could have done anything for her even if you were here, you’re not a doctor. Everyone did the best they could.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I might not have been able to help her. But… I should have been there for you.”

The smile dropped from your face. What could you say? Jinyoung’s eyes were filled with shame but it wasn’t the right time for him to be offering condolences. That time had long passed.

But you still remembered his words from last night as he’d hugged you. I don’t feel as alone when I’m here. Jinyoung had been through so much. How could you say anything to such a broken man except for it’s okay? How could you offer him anything but comfort when he had nobody but you?

How could you not be the bigger person when he was suffering?

“It’s fine, Jinyoung,” you promised him softly. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“How can I not-”

“Seriously. Please. It’s in the past and nobody was to blame. It happened around the time your company was going public, so I can only imagine how chaotic your life and work must have been back then. I don’t resent you.”

Jinyoung looked up at you in disbelief. “How can you not?”

“I just… don’t. It’s fine.”

“Do you really mean that? Do you really mean that?” he demanded.

“I do,” you insisted firmly. You glanced at your watch and sighed. “Wow, it’s getting late. We have a PTA fundraiser at school tonight so I need to start setting up. Oh! Did you bring my bicycle by any chance?” you asked him hopefully.

Jinyoung shook his head. “Uh, no. The reporters were in front of my house so I slipped out through the back…”

“Can you drop it by the school later? I’m going to staying back pretty late because I have to wrap up after the event is over. It might even take till midnight and the buses stop running at 9 so I need a way to get home. It’s not too much trouble, is it?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off here later.”

You gave him a small smile as you turned to go back indoors. “Bye, Jinyoung.”

“Bye.”

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

The PTA fundraiser left you drained of energy.

You would much rather have dealt with a hundred kids at once than with a handful of parents. At least kids could be made to see reason, they could be convinced with a little bit of logic (however flawed). Adults, on the other hand, believed that they knew best and that things had to be done exactly the way they wanted. Adults were unreasonable. Adults liked to throw around their authority.

You had never wanted to get into bed so badly.

You stayed back late to clean up after the fundraiser was over. It wasn’t required of you, but it was something that you somehow ended up volunteering to do. All the other teachers had families to go home to and kids to take care of. You only had an empty apartment.

Asking them to stay back instead of you felt selfish.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged out into the parking lot to see that the bicycle racks were empty. Shit. Had Jinyoung forgotten to leave the bicycle behind for you? Where was he?

You pulled out your cell phone and then sighed. Damn Park Jinyoung. He didn’t even have a stupid phone. It was far past the time that Mr. and Mrs. Park would have gone to bed and you didn't want to wake them by calling them. But your apartment was too far to walk and you would have to pass by the pub; you had no interest in meeting the town’s drunkards alone in those narrow alleys  at midnight.

You sighed and dialled another number.

“Jackson, hey. I’m so sorry, I know you just left a little while ago, but…”

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

It was 1am when you heard a loud banging on your front door.

You had just finished taking a shower and were getting ready to slip into bed when the noise began. Your heartbeat racing, you grabbed hold of a kitchen knife quickly and then slowly approached your door.

“Who’s there?” you yelled out, voice shaking.

The voice that replied was muffled. “Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung? At this time of night?

You opened the door carefully. The first thing that hit you was the awful smell; Jinyoung stank of sweat and cheap beer. His eyes were red and his face flushed as he looked at you almost wildly.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders to look at you properly. His hands were trembling and he seemed unaware of how loud his voice was. “Are you all right? I was looking for you everywhere!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow, you’re drunk.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry-”

“How about you come inside before you bring my neighbours running over with all of your noise?” you snapped. You had little patience for drunks, and knowing that Jinyoung had been out getting drunk instead of returning your bicycle did not please you. “Where have you been?”

Jinyoung stared at you helplessly, his arms waving around as he spoke. “I-I was just going to get one drink, I swear. But it led to another and I totally forgot about your bike and I was so scared that you might have walked home because I know that path passes by the pub and it’s not safe-”

“Relax,” you told Jinyoung as you guided him gently towards your couch. “I didn't walk. I called Jackson, he drove me home.”

“Jackson? Wang? Why? Are you guys close?” he asked, plopping down heavily on the couch.

You shrugged. “He’s a good friend.”

Jinyoung paused for a moment and then hung his head quietly.

“We used to be good friends.”

You looked down at Jinyoung properly. He was a wreck. His dark hair was a tangled mess and the light blue dress shirt he was wearing was wrinkled with a beer stain on it. There were even large sweat stains under his arms; he’d probably cycled all the way here in a panic.

And he’s one of the Most Eligible Bachelors under 40. If only the magazine had seen him like this.

“We’re still friends,” you told him lightly. “Although it wouldn’t do any harm to return my bicycle when I ask for it. Do you want a glass of water?”

Jinyoung blinked at you dazedly. “Do you have beer?”

“Absolutely not. Haven’t you had enough?”

His lower lip pouted slightly as he stared down at the floor. “I’ve been drinking all evening but I haven’t reached the point where I feel good or forget about my problems yet. In fact, I keep thinking about them even more. How about a cigarette?”

“You will not smoke in my house,” you told him with a firm glare.

To your surprise, Jinyoung suddenly smiled. It was only a gentle curve of his lips but you spotted it and frowned at him with your arms folded across your chest. “Are you feeling proud of yourself right now? Do you think your behaviour is something to laugh about?” you demanded.

Jinyoung looked up at you softly. “No.”

“Then why are you-”

“Because this is the first time you’ve given me that look since I came back,” Jinyoung admitted quietly. His voice trembled. “This is the first time you got angry at me. You don’t seem to get angry at me anymore.”

You didn’t understand. “Why would you want me to be angry at you-”

“Because you have to be angry with someone before you can forgive them. You have to first admit that they hurt you or that they did something wrong, and only then can you begin to repair your relationship,” Jinyoung whispered. He looked up at you and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. “So tell me honestly. Have you forgiven me already?”

You swallowed. “I was never mad at you to begin with-”

“You’re lying.”

You clenched your fists as your heartbeat thudded. “I’m not lying. You’re drunk. You should drink some water and you can sleep on the couch-”

Jinyoung looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot yet surprisingly clear. “You are lying. Either you’re lying or you’re not the same girl I remember.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because the girl I knew wouldn’t have pretended to forgive a friend to spare his feelings. She would have grabbed me by the shirt, looked me in the eye, and said Park Jinyoung, you’re an absolute bastard for leaving me here when I was having a hard time. She wouldn’t have spared my feelings. She would have expected me to be there for her because that’s what friends do. They count on each other.”

You closed your eyes. How had Jinyoung seen right through you? Even after 10 years, how could he see through you like you were made of glass?

“I’m not angry,” you tried to tell him slowly, even though you weren’t sure who you were convincing anymore. “Because I never expected you to be there. You were busy and I had no expectations-”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You’re lying again.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. Friendship is when you help someone, because you trust that they would do the same for you. What you’re doing for me isn’t friendship. You don’t trust me anymore. If you have no expectations from me, then that’s charity!” Jinyoung spat out. Tears were brimming in his eyes and his voice was choked. “Is that what I am to you? Charity?”

You clenched your fists and let out a small, humourless laugh. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“What?”

“Where the fuck do you get off accusing me of treating you like charity? After what you did?” you snapped.

Jinyoung stared at you blankly. “Tell me.”

Your throat closed up. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to drag yourself back to what had been the lowest point of your life, especially not in front of Jinyoung. You didn’t know who he was to you anymore. How could you open up to him?

“I can’t,” you muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jinyoung.”

“Please,” Jinyoung whispered. “Please. At least tell me I was a terrible friend for not being there. Tell me I was a terrible friend for not even knowing about your mother.”

You took a deep breath and sat down, your knees feeling weak. You had never imagined that you would have to sit next to Jinyoung and say these words to him while he was drunk. Yet, as his dark eyes pierced into yours, he looked more sober than ever.

“It was my fault she died,” you whispered, shakily. “I know how hard my Mom worked to raise me. I know how much she struggled after my Dad passed away. The doctor told me her heart attack was probably caused by stress- years of it. She was growing old but she’d never even gone for a health check-up because we couldn’t afford it.”

Jinyoung stared at you silently.

“I needed someone to say this to back then,” you admitted quietly. “I needed someone who would listen to me and who wouldn’t try to convince me that it wasn’t my fault or that I didn't do anything wrong. That’s what everyone kept doing. They kept trying to comfort me but I just wanted someone who would listen. I wanted you,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung only nodded. His hands reached out to take both of yours. He grasped them tightly.

“I knew you were busy, but I always had this hope that maybe you would come to the funeral,” you whispered. “I thought… surely, whatever I did to make you cut me off, it wasn’t so bad that you wouldn't even turn up to my mother’s funeral. But the truth was that I couldn’t grieve properly because the hospital was hounding me about the bills, I…”

You took a deep breath. You hated thinking about those moments. You had felt so helpless and alone, backed into a corner. “I don’t think it even sank in that my mother was dead until a few days later,” you mumbled. “ I spent the first day wondering how the hell I was going to pay the hospital bills instead of thinking about her. Your mother tried comforting me, she told me it would all be fine and that she would call you for help.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes; tears were clinging to his eyelashes.

“She did,” he mumbled.

You felt the walls around you come crashing down as you looked at the broken man in front of you. You remembered how badly you’d wanted to see him then, how much you’d craved his comfort. You remembered how furious you had been when you realized that Jinyoung had abandoned you.

“I thought you would call,” you mumbled. “I didn’t want to disturb you but at the same time I trusted that you wouldn’t leave me alone at a time like that.”

Jinyoung’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

“It would have been better if you hadn't done anything at all,” you mumbled. “Maybe then I could have forgotten about it in the mess that I was going through. But you didn’t. I got a call from your secretary the night before the funeral.”

Jinyoung lowered his head. His hands were trembling even as they held yours and you could hear his soft sniffle. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Shit, I can’t believe-”

“I thought you’d finally called. But it wasn’t you. I had to hear some strange woman tell me over the phone that Park Jinyoung is sorry he can’t make it to the funeral but he sends his condolences,” you choked out. You smiled humorlessly. “As if I was some distance acquaintance you barely knew. You sent me your condolences through your secretary.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know it was you…”

“And then she told me that if I would just email her a copy of the hospital and funeral bills then all the expenses would be taken care of,” you mumbled. “She said that she could send me as much as I needed, no limit. I was so embarrassed. I wanted-I wanted to tell her that you could go fuck yourself and that I didn’t want your condolences and your money. I wanted to refuse so badly, but…”

You hung your head in shame. “But I couldn’t,” you whispered. “I couldn’t say that to her because it was true. I had no other way of paying those bills. So I sent her the details and I let you pay for them. Whether you know it or not, you paid for all my mother’s hospital bills and funeral while I sat here and wondered how I had become such a worthless daughter.”

Jinyoung’s hands clasped yours so tightly that it hurt. His shoulders were shaking and you could see the sobs racking his chest. “I didn’t mean to-” he sobbed. Jinyoung’s tears landed on your clasped hands. “I didn’t mean to, I swear…”

You slowly removed your hands from his. “I have the accounts,” you muttered. “I’ve been saving up to pay you back. It might take me a few more years but-”

Jinyoung flinched. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not open to discussion, Jinyoung.”

“Don’t say you’ll pay me back, please-”

“I will pay you back,” you said firmly. You took a deep breath. “You know why? Because I might be able to forgive you for not being there when I needed you. But I will never, never forget how cheap I felt the moment I ended that phone call. So don’t talk to me about charity; I know how it feels to be on the other end of it.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. He felt light-headed and blank as he thought about everything you’d said. No wonder you didn’t consider him a friend. No wonder you couldn't bring yourself to be honest with him. No wonder there was something fake and forced about your every smile.

Jinyoung hadn’t just messed up.

He had destroyed something precious to him without even realizing it.

“It’s late,” you mumbled after a brief silence. “You should go to sleep. Here, just; make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I-I can’t…”

“You’re not going anywhere at this time of night while you’re drunk,” you told him. You pushed him lightly so that he leaned back against the sofa. “Stay put. I’ll be back. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight.”

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Jinyoung asked quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Even if you don’t consider me your friend anymore, even if you’re just being nice to me because you’re that kind of a caring person… don’t give up on me completely.” Jinyoung looked up at you desperately. “Please. Tell me that I can fix things. Tell me I haven’t broken our friendship and my life beyond repair.”

You looked down at him. Lying on your couch in his crumpled dress shirt and the beer stains, Jinyoung looked pathetic. Perhaps it was because you’d finally let out all the resentment you’d been bottling up for so long. Perhaps it was because, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes now, you could see that he did care. But you suddenly didn’t feel so hollow anymore.

You didn’t feel so lonely in your pain.

“Everything can be fixed, Jinyoung,” you told him softly.

“Even us?” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Even us.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jinyoung slowly closed his eyes and you went into the other room to get him a spare pillow and a blanket. He let you place the pillow under his head and snuggled into the soft blanket. You turned to switch off the light when you heard him mumble.

“You know something?”

“What, Jinyoung?”

“I thought that the most unbearable thing about being fired from the company was all the effort I’d put into it. I thought I couldn’t bear it because I’d done so much for it for the years,” he said slowly.

You blinked at his curled up figure under the blanket.

“But it’s not?” you asked.

Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s not how much I’ve done for the company that I can’t bear. It’s how much I sacrificed for it.”

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

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 39

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

A/n: I got really into this case guys... You don't even know. It was so trivial in my head and then all the sudden blam it turned into a really complex interconnected thing. Anyways... the two paintings are actually from the Musee d'Orsay have some links if you'd like:

Rouen Cathedral in Morning Light  and La Seine à Port-Villez

John couldn’t help but grin as you literally danced into The National Gallery, giving a little twirl before letting out the most content sigh. You were a hard and incredibly devoted worker but he knew you hated that type of work, it made you feel boxed in, bored, and dull. For you, this was not only a moment of excitement but of much-needed freedom as well. Sherlock set a hand on your shoulder to reign you in before you wandered off down some hall and got lost. He got the feeling it would be hours before they found you again if that happened and a grateful look from John confirmed it as you wiggled a little under his hand.

They’d briefed you in the cab on the way over, explaining that they had identified the three people that were murdered as leading art experts all focused in the field of impressionism. Once they had done that, the note left with the bodies made sense and led them to a set of paintings by Monet on loan to The National Gallery by the Musée d'Orsay in Paris that included two newly discovered paintings that had been unveiled just months before. That’s where they were now- one of the five paintings was a fake, it was just a matter of determining which. You had protested to Sherlock that you were hardly an expert, sure Monet was one of your favorite artists and you were a painter but that didn’t mean you’d be able to spot the difference between a fake and the real deal, but for some reason, he insisted you look at them. Lestrade and the curator looked up when the three of you walked in, your eyes going wide as you looked around the room with a gleeful grin- so much better than being stuck in the café. Sherlock released you and you gave Lestrade a small, distracted wave as you moved past him to stand in front a painting you knew well, ignoring the conversation that had begun behind you. You tilted your head, letting your eyes wander over the pale blues and yellows of one of Monet’s many paintings of Rouen Cathedral, this particular one depicting the soft light of morning. It was one of your favorites. You would need to go over every inch of each painting to be absolutely certain of which was the fake so why not start here?

It had only been a few minutes when you were pulled from your study by raised voices behind you, the curator arguing loudly with Sherlock and Lestrade over your qualifications, or lack thereof, and without turning you snapped, “Either shut it or get the sod out. You’re messing with my concentration.” They fell silent and you went back to what you were doing before you were so rudely interrupted as John snickered, “I told you she’d notice.” Time passed slowly for Sherlock and the others as you spent hours in front of each painting, night slowly creeping in while you shifted from painting to painting, sometimes sitting on the floor but mostly just standing. By the time you got to the last two paintings, the curator had left, Lestrade had stepped out to get coffee and stretch his legs, and John was sitting against a wall, napping, next to Sherlock who was deep in thought with his hands folded under his chin. You gave a soft yawn and stretched your arms above your head as you moved to the last painting, the noise making both of their eyes snap open and Sherlock gestured for John to go get him some coffee. John opened his mouth to tell him to get it himself but Sherlock pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes flicking to you and back as John narrowed his own eyes at him in annoyance. He decided he could use some air anyways and got up to do as Sherlock wanted, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Sherlock went to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder causing you to tense slightly but you didn’t push him away. The last week had been surprisingly hard on Sherlock, even when he was distracted by the case he found himself missing you. At first, it was just that he’d grown used to your presence and it threw him off a little that you were gone but as the week wore on he began to miss little things that he had never really thought about before. The sound of you humming as you made tea, the way your tongue peeked out of your mouth when your sketches got more detailed, the quick sarcastic comments that so easily mingled with his own- he missed it all. As annoying as it was, he found it interesting that he’d spent his entire life without you and now, after only a week of you being gone, he was miserable. Love was turning out to be a more complex emotion than he’d originally thought. You suddenly let out a sigh and your hand came up to tangle in his hair as you turned your head to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. He kept his arms around you but stood straight to let you turn and lean into his chest with another soft yawn as he thrummed, “What do you see?” A wave of disappointment washed over him when you pulled away and moved back to the third painting, The Seine at Port-Villez, standing in front of it for a moment before stating, “The logical choice would have been one of the two new pieces as they would be much easier to duplicate and switch out without someone noticing yet from what I can see there is nothing wrong with either of them. So that leaves the older pieces- I have seen these three works a number of times over the years, enough to know them well, and there’s something about this one that’s off... also, the more I think about it the more it’s the perfect piece for someone to switch out with a fake.” “Explain.” he murmured as he wound around you from behind again, this time with his cheek against the top of your head. “It’s well known but not as popular as say... his lily pads, medium sized so not as carefully scrutinized as something smaller or as time-consuming as something bigger, and conservatively worth over ten million on the black market.” You stepped away from him again, moving so you were just inches from the canvas before giving a soft hum, “This one is a fake and... I know who painted it.” “You do?” John’s voice rang out behind the two of you as he walked in, just in time to hear your statement but miss the moment of affection from Sherlock, and you spun to nod, “I almost missed it… it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of his paintings, but hidden in one of the trees in a clever shade of muted green is his signature, just two letters-TA for Timothy Ares.” “Timothy Ares…” Sherlock said the name as if he was trying to deduce something about its owner simply from what he was called and John came over to press a very welcome cup of tea into your hands, “How do you know him, Squeak?” You plopped down cross-legged on the floor, giving your legs a rest as you sipped at your tea, “He was one of my flatmates when I first moved to Montmartre, we shared a studio for a bit too. You met him when you came to visit once… kind of a lanky bloke with a shock of chestnut hair that flopped over one eye- if memory serves it was flecked with streaks of white when you saw him.” John was looking to the ceiling in thought and then nodded with a chuckle, “Oh! I remember him… he’s the one who got caught by the authorities in only his pink pants when you broke into that pool in the middle of the night.” “That would be the one,” you confirmed, giving a little laugh at the memory.

After a moment of thought, you looked up at Sherlock, who was standing with his eyes closed, and firmly stated, “He wouldn’t do this. Not unprovoked. He has great respect for the work of others.”

“Do you still have contact with him?” John wondered aloud.

“I do.”

“Call him.” Sherlock demanded and you shook your head, “I can do you one better. He’s in London. Phoned me two days ago to see if we could meet up but I was busy so he told me where he was staying in case I had some free time.”

Sherlock abruptly stalked out and you and John exchanged a glance, scrambling to catch up with him after he poked his head back in and called, “Don’t laze about.”

Tags <3:

@team-free-sherlock @multifandom-ramblings @madshelily @severusminerva @yes-but-theyre-my-dorks @smitemewiththysherlock @not-fandom-addicted @unknownwonder @deducingdevil @aviien @mrsfrankensteinsworld @lolamurphy @bakerstreethound @musical-doll-x @protectteamfreewill @delightful-pirate

@lilcutekittykat

[wolfqueen-is-here]

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten (Jonsa Secret Santa 2018)

Dearest @moonchildslife, I am so sorry for my delay, Christmas was crazier than I expected, and I didn’t finish my gift on time. But it is here now, and I hope you don’t find it too terrible ;). I wish you a wonderful year with Jonsa becoming canon in April and our fandom wishes coming true. Be happy, be healthy, be yourself! <3

Many thanks to @jonsasecretsanta2018 who made all of this happen, you truly are amazing!

  A/N Don’t be alarmed by a brief mention of the Hound. I promise you, it has nothing to do with SanSan in any way except mentioning The Un-Kiss. Book!canon, but mostly show!canon, can be interpreted both as a filler and an AU. 2300 words

  Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten

Every now and then Sansa remembers, even though she has tried so hard to leave the past behind. The Hound was rough and scary, but the kiss that he took left a lingering taste on her lips—it was as soft as snow, almost familiar, she’s caught herself missing the shy affection that came with the kiss, a wary touch so vulnerable it felt almost childish. She remembers the kiss that he took. The only thing she doesn’t remember is him taking it.

Every night feels longer and darker than the former ones. It isn’t until she jumps from Winterfell walls that she remembers how to feel warm again, but the road north is as cold as ice and covered in snow. “His lips felt warm”, she thinks as she runs towards her freedom. “The kiss that he took, it felt warm.”

There are times when she is almost certain that she gave it willingly.

 —

“You look cold,” Jon says after staring at her in silence for a good half an hour. It would annoy her beyond reason, were it anyone else, anyone less trustworthy, anyone less… Jon, but coming from him it’s almost flattering. No one has ever cared for her so since she’d lost Father. Not once until this very moment has she felt safe since then.

“I’m okay,” she smiles. His unblinking eyes refuse to leave hers even for a second as if she’d vanish otherwise. Sansa leans towards him and strokes the inside of his palm with her thumb. It’s the most innocent of caresses, but it makes Jon stiffen and finally lower his head. She misses the stare instantly. “I’m okay, Jon.”

She tastes his name on her tongue. It feels rough—when was the last time she used it? —but sweeter than all the cake she’s ever had. She wants to swallow it, possess it, make it hers. “Jon,” she muses. “Jon. My Jon.”

If it’s something more primal than sisterly affection, she doesn’t recognise it in time. It may occur to her later, but it will be too late.

 —

The first night that she spends at Castle Black is a sleepless one. The shadows are long when she paces aimlessly around the room, too exhausted to fall asleep, too cold to lie still. Knocking at the door alerts her at first—she’s not used to feeling safe yet—she whispers: “Who’s there?” so quietly as if she were hoping nobody would answer.

“It’s me,” Jon says.

She lets him in.

“Do you have everything that you need?” he asks, looking at her with a strange longing.

Had it been more fitting, she’d say: “I have you,” but in their current situation she’d stumble over the words for certain. Instead, she just invites him to stay—just sit next to her and not talk until the sun rises and the shadows go back under her bed. They repeat it every night after that, it seems to comfort both of them.

 —

Jon’s eyes follow Sansa as he tries to find something—anything—that would remind him of a little girl she used to be. Her skirts dance when she rocks her hips, walking around Castle Black like she’d lived here all her life. He wants to avert his gaze but finds it impossible. She’s grown so tall, so slender—so beautiful.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks angrily, hiding his face in his hands. “You are not allowed to look at her like that.”

There were times, many lives ago, when they were only children. Sansa’s hair was more orange than auburn, Jon’s face—smooth, not a trace of beard or scars on it. They both called lord Eddard Stark their father. They both walked around holding Robb’s hand. They both watched Bran fall asleep while they were singing lullabies. Both, yes, but not—together.

When he tries to think about their lives before everything happened, before he went north and she went south, he keeps coming back to that one particular memory. And he’s not allowed to remember it. Not ever.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks, but as her lips move while she’s telling him another story, he watches. The redness of them almost provocative, they look like she’s been biting them for the past few hours. It’s a mesmerising set of colours: her lips with a raspberry tint, screaming to be tasted, licked, devoured; her eyes, deep blue almost exactly like the ones that used to follow him with disdain when he was nothing more than a bastard boy, but there’s no disdain in Sansa’s eyes, only hope. Her fair complexion contrasts with the dark streaks of her auburn hair, almost brown in the dimly lit room. Jon quashes the need to cup Sansa’s cheek and stroke it with his fingers, to check if her soft, unwavering beauty isn’t only a product of his hallucinations. He wouldn’t dare.

 —

Sansa enters the dining room when there’s barely anyone left. A few wildlings share a horn of ale, laughing. There’s also Edd sitting in the furthest, darkest corner, and he looks really down—Edd always looks down, that’s an inherent part of his personality, “The defining part”, Tormund insists, but Sansa doesn’t care, because Edd, albeit rather shy, is kind and caring, and that’s more than she could expect from a stranger. The wildlings terrify her still, she doesn’t know their customs, they’re far too loud and bold for her taste, so she chooses to cross the room and take a sit in front of Edd.

They don’t talk, there’s no need for it. Sansa eats her soup, wondering whether Jon has already eaten, and Edd just keeps staring at the ceiling. Weirdly, his silent presence comforts Sansa more than any words could.

When everybody leaves, Sansa reaches for Edd’s half-empty horn and moves her hand up and down its uneven surface. It’s become apparent these past few days that sleep refuses to come easily for her at Castle Black, and when she finally drifts off after hours of rolling over from side to side, her dreams are filled with memories—but are they real? Are they hers?

She doesn’t think about the Hound that often. He’s been a big part of her life when she was a prisoner in King’s Landing, but her fascination with his tragic story faded and went by long ago. She cannot remember his face anymore, only the scars, she doesn’t even know if she’d be glad to see him again. The memories of him and the torments from the Lannisters became too inseparable in her mind, and that’s why she doesn’t want to think of him or imagine their meeting.

Not now. Not ever.

Then why is her brain so set on bringing back the memory of the kiss? She can feel a sweet breath on her chin every morning when she wakes up from her blurry dreams—why is it sweet? Wasn’t the Hound monumentally drunk that night?—she can taste it, again and again. Her first kiss, that one thing she knows for sure. She’d gotten a few pecks from Joffrey, yes, they should probably count as first, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands around the horn.

“I thought you weren’t fond of our ale,” Jon says, suddenly very close—how did he get so close without Sansa hearing his steps? Did she black out again?

“I heard it helps to forget.”

“It does,” his voice sounds worried, “for a while. It doesn’t make your past go away.”

Sansa raises her head and their eyes lock immediately as if they’re a couple of lovers always on a mission to find each other.

“For a while,” she repeats. “Sounds better than never.”

The ale tastes much worse than she remembered it—it’s bitter and stale, and reeks of old, damp barrels—but her lips don’t leave the edge of the horn until it’s empty. Jon’s eyes move to her throat as she swallows and stay there even after she’s finished.

At first, she doesn’t think anything’s changed—the same emptiness fills her, the same desperation—but minutes pass as they sit opposite one another in silence, and her head finally starts to feel both lighter and heavier, her thoughts stir inside her brain, but never fully form. It’s a bliss. It’s a curse.

She sits in the middle of a meadow, it’s late summer. The winds got chilly but she’s got a blanket around her arms. She’s knitted it herself. She’s content. She’s happy. She’s Queen Naerys Targaryen.

“Are you alright? That’s quite a lot of ale you just inhaled,” Jon murmurs, gently touching her arm. Sansa looks up and smiles at him.

“I’ll be fine,” she answers. “I’ll be fine, Jon. You can go to sleep, you look tired.”

He laughs hoarsely and it makes Sansa’s belly tighten.

“Not until I see you safely tucked under your furs.”

He approaches her with his back straight and a sword at his side. Where did he get that sword, she thinks briefly but continues to look at his beaming face.

“I’ve come to rescue you, my Queen.”

“You can’t, my love,” she says, remembering to dress her face in the deepest, most regal shade of sadness. “We’re bound to our fate forever. You’ve made your vows, as I have made mine.”

He kneels before her. He’s brave, he’s gentle, he’s strong. He’s Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

Sansa tries to stand up all too quickly, her head spins violently and she has to hold on to the table to avoid falling. She can barely feel her legs and her arms—how strong was that ale?—but the burning hotness of Jon’s hand on her lower back, oh, that she feels.

“Careful,” he says, pulling her closer and throwing her arm around his neck. “You’re still much too weak to start drinking so heavily. Don’t let go, alright? I’m going to walk you to your chambers now.”

And he proceeds to do just that.

When Sansa lies in bed feeling truly sleepy for the first time since she’s reached Castle Black on her dying horse, she suddenly remembers everything.

His face is just inches away. He’s wearing his hair pulled tightly in the back like a true adult, but he’s been playing with swords all day and a few strands have escaped the knot, hanging loosely around his face. She feels the urge to curl one of them around her finger but before she decides to make a move, he leans in and kisses her on the lips.

It surprises her—the lightness of it as much as the act itself. “It’s not wrong as long as I’m Queen Naerys and he’s Prince Aemon,” she tells herself as she involuntarily moves closer and exhales into his warm mouth. His fingers wander up and down her sleeve, curious but never inappropriate. The kiss doesn’t last long, a few heartbeats maybe, but before it’s finished, she can hear him whisper: “Sansa.”

And instantly he’s Jon again, and she’s Sansa. And they’ve done something unforgivable.

 —

Jon’s almost asleep when he hears banging at his door. He jumps out of bed and rushes to open it only to find a breathless Sansa on the other side. Her eyes are wide, and she looks absolutely terrified. If she’s still a bit in her cups, it doesn’t show.

“What happened?” he asks.

She’s shivering. He wants to put his hand on her arm but she jumps away.

“You kissed me,” she hisses, her tone accusatory.

Jon blinks. Not that he hasn’t thought of it, because of course he has. He won’t admit it to anyone but though he tried extremely hard to see his long-lost sister in the beauty that has brought him back to life, he failed miserably. The truth is—she was never a sister to him, not even before they parted ways.

“I assure you,” he answers quietly, “I did not. I didn’t even enter your chambers, I asked lady Brienne to help.”

“Not tonight,” Sansa sighs and Jon realises she’s standing before him barefoot, dressed only in some old sleeping gown, but somehow she’s never looked more queenly with her demanding expression and fiery glare. “When we were children. A few months before we left Winterfell. We played… we played, and you…”

And he kissed her.

He kissed her and he never regretted it once until she came to him, crying, and ordered him to forget it ever happened. He didn’t want to, it was too precious a memory, but he obliged. For Sansa.

“I thought we weren’t speaking of it,” he whispers carefully.

She was really shook when she came to him that day, he never wanted to see Sansa cry, and to be the reason for her despair—it was too much for him to bear.

“We aren’t. I just… I forgot.”

“You forgot?” he asks, feeling hurt. It was his only kiss before Ygritte and he wasn’t even allowed to savour that memory. How could she have forgotten?

“I’m sorry,” she says. “What we did… it was wrong. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I think I repressed it. I made myself believe it happened with someone else.” She lowers her head and he’s afraid to spook her by asking who that person was, but he’s certain it will haunt him forever. Was it Joffrey? Gods, he hopes it wasn’t him. Jon couldn’t bear it. Sansa makes a strangled noise at the back of her throat. “But I remember now.”

He doesn’t know what more to say, but Sansa doesn’t seem to expect any kind of explanation. It happened. It shouldn’t have, but it did. And it changed things between them.

Sansa finally dares to look at him. Her lips are parted, ready as they were in that meadow years ago. He doesn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. When they win back Winterfell, when the war is over—she will come to him of her own volition.

And he will have that second kiss, gods be damned.

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

just gonna rant about my health issues to no one in particular for a bit under the cut sooo

im just so fucking tired of being sick all the time like. its been almost 2 years now of actively Going To Doctors And Having Tests Done And Trying To Get A Diagnosis and fucking!!! nothing works!!! and i only have until the end of this coming school year to get it figured out before my insurance runs out otherwise im just fucked!!! because im sure as hell not gonna be able to afford a fucking mri every six months making 10 bucks an hour at some retail shithole but so far ive seen SIX different fucking doctors (not counting 2 ER visits) because they all just keep shuffling me back and forth like “idk maybe have someone else deal with this? weird lol” or like “have you considered that maybe you might have anxiety :) you seem stressed :)” 

like yeah its a fucking stressful situation getting progressively fucking sicker for two goddamn years wasting thousands of dollars and reaching the end of a fucking ticking clock because almost every doctor ive seen is an incompetent jackass who does NOTHING but waste my time and money and then fucking condescend to me about anxiety like!!! yeah i probably DO have anxiety and depression and autism and what the fuck ever else but this isnt THAT 

and the literal ONE TIME i had ANY treatment that worked AT ALL helping with my eye spasms (literally One of Many Symptoms that i deal with on a fucking daily basis that still manages to completely fuck up my life) is something i cant take anymore because it damaged my fucking eyes!!! possibly permanently!!! i already HAD issues wtih light sensitivity that this medicine made WAYYY fucking worse and guess whats one of the WORST things at setting off my eye spasms??? anything to do with fucking light so YEAH thANKS for that @ the opthalmologist who had me take those damn eye drops for two months straight, which other neuro opthalmologist said was bullshit when i saw her again, not that im letting HER off the hook either since she REFERRED me to that incompetent bitch in the first place and then had NO solution other than “hm well you definitely shouldnt take that medicine again, but theres literally No Other Treatment, maybe blow another $400 in a few months to come see me again so i can continue to Not Help You In Any Way”

and its getting wORSE ALL THE TIME!!! and the best thing doctors can think of is “hm well maybe wait a bit to see if it gets worse? and maybe then we’ll know what it is?” well its getting worse!!!! but they still dont seem to know what it is!!! like at first it was just my vision going out of focus for a few seconds at a time, then it was a few minutes, then i was having visual distortion (or maybe hallucinations? who knows! certainly not any of the fucking doctors ive seen!), then awful fucking eye strain headaches, then spasms in my neck, then my jaw, then my arms, then my legs, now all fucking over, and now i get sick and dizzy just by moving my HEAD too far or too suddenly and like at work earlier today i was just stumbling around for two hours bc there was too much pressure in my head and everything felt tilted and i was just grabbing at every surface trying not to fall with my head like on my shoulder bc keeping my neck straight was too fucking hard and i swear to fuckign god a couple nights ago there was this weird buzzing on the side of my face??? and like it felt like my mouth was moving slower than it should??? but i dont even KNOW if thats a Real SymptomTM or if i was just freaked out and tired and imagining things or if i really am just getting to be a paranoid delusional nutcase about my health because every little thing terrifies me at this point, like ive been coughing for a couple weeks and instead of being like “oh its a bad cold” im like “maybe now my immune systems fucked up too maybe this is A New Symptom” i literally cant tell anymore i have no fucking idea 

and i dont WANT to think about all this All The Fucking Time but i do!!!!! i literally HAVE to bc it affects my life in every fucking possible way and i cant escape it like even rn the light from the fuckign computer is hurting my eyes and i cant even see what im typing half the time bc my eyes keep going out of focus and my teeth keep chattering and my head hurts or ill go to get a drink of water but then just Stand there for a few minutes bc i dont trust myself to hold a cup full of water and not spill it bc im having spasms or ill have to wear sunglasses at the dinner table bc my fucking idiot asshole dad got the BRIGHTEST possible lightbulbs for the dining room and i physically cant stand them 

or like im already dreading having to explain all this shit to my professors this semester about how like “oh so i probably wont be able to keep up with daily readings, especialyl not if theyre on physical paper and i cant scale up the text because my eyes just spontaneously stop working and i cant read..... and ill need a computer to take notes, i can Usually hold a pencil but one time i had a spasm in class and flung it across the room and it was super embarrassing and i ltierally skipped that class for weeks because of it so id really rather not deal with that again.... and even though im a fuckign AMAZING public speaker like, state champion debate level public speaking, ill still probably get super fucking nervous and suck at any kind of in class presentation bc ill just be thinking about my spasms the whole time and wont be able to focus....... and ill have to wear sunglasses all the time too so hopefully thats not an issue........ and also ill probably miss a lot of class bc whether or not i can handle walking half a mile Varies Wildly from day to day and also i have a lot of doctors appointments and sometimes im on medicine that completely ruins my sleep schedule so you know... looking forward to a great semester, hope i dont completely fail your class” 

and i have fuckign work tomorrow where ill have to deal with trying to pretend like even the most minor tasks arent painful and difficult and deal with awful btichy entitled customers complaining that im not SMILEY enough for you like the motherfucker who asked me how i was and i said fine and he was like “jUuUUuuuST fINE” like shut the everlasting FUCK UP with that ive met my obligation leave me ALONE my day isnt FINE im in awful pain and i HATE you and everyone like you or ill have to deal with my coworkers giving me weird looks while im having spasms or outright MOCKING me for them like the asshole that called me TWITCH (and a whore, but thats Another Fucking Story) or just not knowing how to deal and making bad taste jokes like when my teeth are chattering bc I Physically Cant Make It Stop like “haha are you chewing an invisible piece of gum lol” like no bitch im a neurological nightmare and my brain doesnt work and im Barely Holding Together would you PLEASE shut the fuck up 

and most of the time i just feel like everyone thinks im a fucking freak like even just sitting in the waiting room to see the neurologist or opthalmologist or whatever and everyone else there is Old and im the only person even remotely close to my age there and even the doctors dont seem to take me that seriously bc of it like “oh shes young, cant be that bad, all these old people out here are gonna die like tomorrow so why worry about this girl, its probably just anxiety from being on her period or having a test to study for lol” like straight up when the movement disorder neurologist was examining me she was like “im not used to seeing anyone this young or healthy’ and i know she meant it relatively speaking but like!!! clearly im NOT healthy or i wouldnt BE here like obviously something is wrong with me and its ruining my life and its serious and id like it fixed thanks!!!!! 

and i feel like No One Gets It like, obviously there are people wayyyy sicker than i am who suffer a lot more or people in similar situations but like. i dont Personally Know someone like that i can just talk to and like, of course i have friends who can Listen but.................................. theres a difference from being able to listen and being able to actually Understand and sometimes you just cant Get It unless youve gone through it like i really dont think ANYONE in my life has any idea how serious this is or how much it affects me and i know i cant expect everyone to just Always Think Of My IssuesTM but little things!!! like maybe NOT having the brighest possible lightbulbs in the dining room!!!! my brother NOT having his birthday party at dave and busters, which i had TONS of spasms at last time i went (and im even worse now!) AND the staff gave me shit about wearing sunglasses so now im nervous about That too or just! idk! people respecting and listening to me when i tell them that i Cant Do Something or that Doing That Thing Hurts and not just brushing me off or telling me im overreacting and then getting all shocked pikachu face when their dumbassery actually physically HURTS me and i get pissed with them for it!!!!

i dont think anyone gets how much it scares me all the time or how its Always on my mind and i literally cant think about anything else like. this could be the rest of my life. this could end my life. i dont know what i have. i might get diagnosed in the next month and have it completely cured, i might get a diagnosis and still be sick forever, i might not find out until its too late and i have LITERALLY NO FUCKING IDEA WHICH ONE!!!! ITS GREAT!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[h3llostrang3r]

A Lifetime to Remember

Perfect Match 

Pairing: Dames x Mc Summary: One-Shot.Melina Park is searching for Dames. Word Count: 3,800 Warnings: Language,Sexual content implied(I don’t think it’s anything more explicit than what you would find in a Choices 30 diamond scene.) Notes: I miss Dames. I still haven’t forgiven PB. I give them all my monies and they couldn’t give me Dames during the finale. 

Do you ever have the feeling that someone is watching you? You know, when you get those urges to look over your shoulder even though no one has called out your name. Did you really see something out of the corner of your eye or was your mind playing tricks? Or when you suddenly look up from whatever you were concentrating on because you could just feel a pair of eyes locked on to you. Like you can just feel the heat from their body and it sends a thrilling chill right through you? I have been feeling this more and more every day for the past few months.

Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. But it feels so incredibly real to me.

I’ve spent countless hours online searching for him…

Keegan hasn’t spoken to me since we took down Rowan and Cecile. She won’t give me any information on what happened to him. I’ve reached out to her and those I’ve found connected to her, but nothing. I don’t know why she’s ignoring me, I proved myself to her before - that I’m on her and all the matches side.

No signs of him and no body found. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I can’t think the worst. I refuse. I know he’s stronger than that. I need to know if Keegan or someone was able to fix his programing, he could have lost so much of what he had by now. He has to be out there somewhere …

That’s why I have spent so much of my down time online. Throwing myself out there. My online alias spreading like wildfire, ThePurpleHairPark. I’m in chat rooms, forums, social media outlets - there’s always someone watching,reading,lurking from behind their screen. The world knows about the matches and there are so many out there helping them. So there has to be someone that has seen him. All I need is one person to point me in the right direction. Or he can come find me. I know he knows how to. Or at least his past memories would.

Can anyone help me? Actually help me? The conspiracies, the theories, they’re insightful, but I need something more.

Where are you, Dames?

Please. I need you …

Melina sits back in her chair staring at the screen. She sighs heavily before she deletes the plead and publishes her newest post to her open forum. Her purple hair slightly covers her face as she hangs her head low. Some strand clinging to her cheeks as tears start to roll down her face. After a deep breath she wipes the tears and gets up to refill on her iced tea.

Melina was at the coffee shop close by to her apartment almost every day. Always getting looks from the customers coming in and out of the shop. She was never quite sure what they thought of her and her laptop sitting in her favorite spot by the window. She didn’t really care, she just wanted to make sure that she could be seen. Her goal was to be seen by him, by Dames.

As Melina stood in line, she checked her phone. No missed calls or texts from Damien. He had been so busy with work since they saved the President, she was thrilled that Damien’s business was booming, but it made it harder for them to make time for each other. They didn’t mind their low-key nights in just them, some takeout (Melina’s cooking still not improving, whoops) and a movie while snuggling on the couch. Yet, with Damien’s ever growing case files he would often come home, grab a snack and head straight to bed. Damien was still supportive of Melina spending time with Hayden, but even she seemed to be too busy for Melina lately.

Melina orders her iced tea - which is on the house, her friend Lily is now working at the register. Lily gives her a wink and flashes her a smile as she shoos Melina along. Melina mouths a, “thank you” as goes to wait for her drink.

Melina never minded being alone and single. There was always something to do, always a way to entertain herself or keep busy until she heard from one of her friends. So why was it now, when she had two loves in her life she felt most lonely? Even Nadia found time to be with Steve and his… abs. Luckily, her cousin would always make time for her at least once a week. But ever since they came out from hiding from Eros’ radar , life never went back to being carefree for Melina.

Her heart had been so full from being loved without judgement from two amazing people in her life, but now that love - where did it go? Had she expected too much? Was it unreasonable of her to want to see them more than 2 or 3 times a week? Melina’s mind often drifted to Dames when she was alone. There was still that spot in her heart reserved just for him. Which often ached at the thought of him, not knowing where he was or if he was even okay.

She had to find him. She needed the answer. Even if he didn’t want to see her again or even want to be with her, she just wanted him to be okay.  

Her name is called and she grabs her rather large drink and heads back to her spot. She stares at her computer a few moments - and there. That feeling. Her face grows warm, her heart begins to beat a little faster, the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. Her eyes look up from under her long eyelashes - slowly scanning the faces in front of her, nothing. She slowly turns her head to the left, no one looking at her. Her back is against a wall so it definitely was not coming from behind. Melina bites her lip as she returns her gaze back to her computer. No, no, that feeling is still there.

She froze - too scared to turn her head again. Move your damn head, Melina. Do it. She ordered herself internally. Did her body know something her mind didn’t? She blinked and a tear began to fall. Exhale, Melina - slowly she let out the breath she was holding. Her body relaxed and she allowed herself to look to her right, out the window she always had to sit by.

There he was across the street, just staring at her with his hands in his pockets and a sad look on his face. That creep, that handsome fucking creep.

“Dames…” she breathlessly says out loud. Her eyes grow wide, she has to hurry or she’ll miss him. RUN she screams in her head, RUN MELINA. She scrambles out of her seat, almost knocking her laptop off the table, but she doesn’t care. Her feet threaten to trip over each other, but she corrects herself. She pushes the coffee shop door open hard and fast, if there was someone about to get hit there was no way she was going to notice. She looks across the street again, he’s not there.

No. Fuck this noise. He’s not getting away without saying a word to me.

Melina’s feet take her to the busy New York street. Her first few steps are in the clear. “Dames” she cries out with every ounce of her heart and soul. “Dames, please.” Her next few steps just miss a car passing by. Her head is spinning, the cars honking in the background seem so far away. The yelling from the other pedestrians not even registering. Her feet stay planted in the street as she frantically looks as to which direction he could have gone.

The honking becomes louder and louder, her ears now pounding. That’s when she looks to her right and coming straight for her is a yellow taxi. Time starts to slow, her breath catches - she can’t move, she wants to scream. Then the feeling, when you can feel the heat of their body against yours. Except this time - it’s real. Her focus goes to him, but is blurred in a flash.

Dames grabs her at incredible speed and throws them both safely to the sidewalk. He envelopes her in his strong arms and shields her from the fall on to the hard concrete. Her legs sting, but that pain is far away from her mind. He holds her for a long time, her face nuzzled in his chest. Her arms tucked between their bodies, her hands gripping for dear life onto his jacket. She inhales his scent, that mix of cologne and rum that reminds her of that blissful night in Paris. In his arms felt so right, she could melt into his touch and not move for hours - but she could live without the dirty sidewalk.

“Dames…” She manages to whisper, “I thought I lost you.” Her body trembles in his arms as the reality hits her. He is here, he is real, he is alive.  She lifts her head from it’s safe space. Oh what she would give to kiss along that jaw and to his mouth. To sink into his lips and wrap her arms around him and never let go.

“Melina what the hell were you thinking?” His face so close to hers, his eyes filled with concern. He brings his hand up to her face to brush back her hair and it lingers as he cups her jaw. Did he dare move his face any closer? Threatening to crash his lips against hers and tangle his hands in her hair, bringing her closer to him and never leave her again.

Before she can answer they are being helped up by onlookers. Her gaze doesn’t move from him, she’s not losing him again. She thanks them and brushes them off as she moves closer to him - if he tries to run she thinks she can be quick enough to grab him by the jacket.

“Please, Dames. Just come to my apartment. Y-you don’t have to s-stay. I …” She drops her head for a moment as she lets out a deep sigh. Looking into his eyes - God, is this real? Is he really in front of me? She says, “I just want to know you’re okay. Our last talk to each other, that wasn’t fair - it wasn’t right. That’s not how things were suppo-”

“Melina…” The way he said her name made her heart skip a beat. “I’ll come with you. We can talk, I promise.” She nodded her head, still in disbelief. Instinctively, her hand intertwined with his. “Do you want to grab your laptop?” He asked as he motioned to the coffee shop.

“I’m not crossing that street again, today. I’ll text Lily to hang on to it for me.”

**

The walk back to Melina’s apartment was silent, apart from the noise from the city, but it didn’t phase either of them. Absentmindedly their thumbs would graze one anothers - fingers still laced together. When they reached her apartment Melina led the way, giving her hips an extra sway for him as they climbed the stairs. She wanted him to watch, and she knew he would. It took her a moment to fetch her keys from her crossbody purse and unlock her door, the adrenaline was kicking in again. This is a part of her life Dames hasn’t experienced first hand. This moment would be intimate one for both of them.

They made their way inside, Dames moved towards her living room, taking it all in. With her eyes closed, Melina slowly closed the door imagining Dames moving closer to her. His hands on either side of the door frame, closing in on her. His chest pressed against her back, his pelvis against her backside, and his lips hovering so close to her ear. She would turn around to face him and that’s when he would press her hard against the door, his lips kissing hers and his hands gripping her hips as hers would tug on his collar.

“This is a really nice place, Melina.” Dames says, snapping Melina out of her thoughts.

“Ya, thanks. Over here is the kitchen… Where I keep the rum. I need a shot, do you want a shot?” Her heart is beating so fast, her hands begin to shake. She makes her way to the cupboards and pulls out two shot glasses and his favorite rum. He sits on a barstool on the other side of her counter, one elbow propped up.

“Melina, are you alright?” His voice is filled with concern as he watches her move quickly.

“Mmhmm. I just, need to calm my nerves. It’s been so long and it’s all happening so fast.” She pours the shots and slides one over to him. He takes his and stares at it for a moment before he returns his attention to her. She raises her glass to him before throwing back the shot. He quietly lets out a sigh, then follows suit. She’s already pouring herself another round and is quick to refill his. The second shot burns her throat, but seems to do its job as it settles her down. She looks into his eyes and she can see the pain in his eyes. The pain he’s been feeling since Paris, since they left him behind in Tokyo to fight Cecile and all those matches. Her breath hitches when he takes her hand into his.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down. Okay?” He says as he leads her from the kitchen to the couch in her living room.

They settle onto the couch, space between them, but their knees slightly brush against the other as they face each other. Her arms are crossed against her body, gently tucked beneath her heaving chest. His hands are placed on his thighs, rubbing back and forth - not sure how he should proceed.

“Dames, where the hell have you been?” Melina breaks the silence, he can hear the hurt in her voice. “I have been endlessly searching for you, hoping and praying that you were alive and until today I’ve had no fucking luck.” The tears start to form in her eyes and her voices begins to shake. “Why now? I know you’ve been in contact with Keegan. Why have you been avoiding me when you know how to get a hold of me? Why? Why?” The tears fall and her cheeks are wet, she can’t wipe them away fast enough. They just won’t stop.

He hates to see her like this, it hurts him to see her cry. He wants to just wrap her in his arms again and bury his face into her hair. He wants to make her pain end, but he’s the one who did this to her - it’s his fault. It’s all his fucking fault. Fuck it, he thinks as he reaches for her and wraps her into a hug. He gently rocks her and she cries even harder. He whispers “I’m sorry” over and over into her ear. It’s not enough, she deserves more than just his words, even if he means it with every ounce of his fabricated heart and soul. “I’m so fucking sorry, Melina.” He says before she pulls back.

She wants him to look her in the eyes when he tells her why. Why he hid from her all this time without one single word, even if those words were “fuck off”, but he didn’t even give her that.

“Melina, I’m so sorry. I was a coward. I was scared to come back to you when I knew my time was coming end. Knowing I only had months to retain all my past memories and feelings. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t bring myself to be near you and lose you all over again.” Melina couldn’t believe what ehe was hearing. He didn’t even attempt to let them try  -

“I eventually came into contact with Kaahn. I didn’t know if he could help me, but I couldn’t let Cecile and Rowan win. I couldn’t go down without some sort of fighting chance.” He sighed as he took Melina’s hands into his. They were so much smaller, and they were so soft. He loved how such a simple touch from her brought such warmth to him.

Her eyes grew wide, fucking Kaahn talked to Dames and he didn’t say a word?When Dames took her hands and it relaxed her for a moment, but she was still in shock. Who the hell did Kaahn think he was? “He attempted to fix my programming. Today is the last day before the original’s program was set to erase everything. Unfortunately, Kaahn doesn’t know if his override will work. I’m scheduled to… ‘reset’ if you will, at midnight. It won’t be until I wake up will I know if it worked. ”

Her world was flipping upside down. Her head was spinning, her heart was breaking, what was she supposed to do with this information? She finally had Dames back, but tonight he could be gone all over again. This wasn’t fair , Dames didn’t deserve any of this. He brushed her hair from her face, he wanted to comfort her as best as he could. He had already accepted what might happen to him, but this was all so much for Melina. He didn’t want her to have to endure all this. This wasn’t something she needed to worry about, she didn’t need to fuss over him.

“Stay with me.” Her eyes pleaded, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of his answer. “I know you wanted me to see you today. I know you weren’t expecting me to run like a mad woman into traffic, but …” she licked her lips and Dames let out a soft groan at the sight. “Please, stay. You’re finally here and I don’t think I can let you go.”

“What about Damien?” He questioned, his feelings for Melina meant the world to him, but he could never come between her and the person who he had to thank and curse for all these wonderful feelings.

She shook her head and said, “He’s surprisingly very open to me having intimate feelings for others. I don’t think you would be an exception. And it’s not about Damien right now. It’s about me and you right now, and right now I want to spend what could be last moments in your arms… if you want that too.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slowly closed the space between them, Melina’s sweet scent filling his senses, making his head swim. His lips found hers, they tasted like rum with a hint of peach from her iced tea that she had been drinking earlier. Her moan sent a tingle through his body. He needed more of her, but he was worried of what would come in the morning.  Dames broke away from the kiss and asked, “Melina, are you okay with keeping it light? I want to be with you so badly, but it’s not fair to you if I won’t have any memories in the morning. I …” Dames hung his head low, scared to meet his gaze with hers. Her warm hands cupped his face and she lifted his chin until he finally looked her in the eyes.

“I am perfectly fine with being held in your arms all night long, but don’t stop kissing me.” Dames stood up and brought Melina to her feet and embraced her in a hug. He lifted her up and she hooked her legs around his waist holding on to him like she would never let go, burying her face in his neck. He led them to the bedroom where they laid in bed all night intertwined. Both Melina and Dames fighting the urge to fall asleep. Their eyelids heavy, but their lips still finding each other. Both whispering each others names on their skin, and their lips. They both succumbed to sleep, the mental exhaustion too much for them to bear any longer.

**

When Melina wakes up she’s not sure what time it is. She can feel the warmth of the sun peeking through her curtains. Her face is still buried in Dames chest, her new favorite place to rest her head. She’s afraid to move, not knowing what will happen if she wakes him up. Will it be him? Will he remember her and the enchanting night they just had. Just him and her wrapped in each other, never letting go. She wants to cry, the anticipation driving her mad, she didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want to lose Dames again.

Moments passed and finally, he began to stir. She held her breath, this was it, the moment of truth. What would she even say if he didn’t recognize her - she guessed she could call Kaahn or Keegan and they would know what to do. Fuck. Why did it have to be this way? Why did this even have to be a thought?

She felt pressure on the top of her head. Was that? Was that a kiss? Another, and another on her temple. She couldn’t move, does he remember? 

“Melina.” He whispers in her vibrant purple locks. She looks up, and he’s smiling the brightest smile she’s ever seen. He’s beautiful, he’s perfect, he’s ….

“I remember. Everything.” He can’t stop smiling, his head clear of the fog that was his limited programing. Lifetime upon lifetime worth of memory just waiting to be stored. Kaahn did it.

“Stay with me.” Her voice gentle, she didn’t ask, she wanted him to know she wanted him.

“As long as you want me, I will always be here for you, Melina.” His lips found hers over and over again. They trailed along her jaw and down her neck. She moaned his name and begged for more. Piece by piece their clothes made their way to her bedroom floor. His groans grew louder the lower his kisses wandered. Her skin was soft, she was so beautiful and her taste was like ecstasy on his tongue. Melina’s moans drove him to please her harder and harder until she was trembling against his mouth.

“I want all of you, Dames. Please. I need you..” She begged between her panting breaths.

Dames kissed Melina ever so gently as he made his way between her legs. Their moans mingling as they moved against one another. Melina savored the pressure of Dames’ muscular body on top of her’s. She held him close, not wanting to let go. He was finally back in her life and to stay this time.

Dames is here, he is real, Dames is alive.  

[90simaginesandfanfics]

Omg, can I jump on the Jeff Ament bandwagon? How about a one shot where he hooks up with a dancer? Her studio is near where the band rehearses and they’re friendly in a neighborly way and she teases him about learning to dance. Then he shows up and it leads to smut!

He was there again. Leaning against the wall of the studio on the other side of the street, one of his friends propped up next to him smoking a cigarette. You had noticed Jeff for the first time a month ago or so whenever you left the dance studio. He would usually be outside the recording studio seemingly taking a break from whatever he was doing, or getting something from his car. You had introduced yourselves to each other not soon after, but you still felt nervous every time you saw him, not sure whether or not to approach him first. This time you didn’t have to though, as he noticed you and waved you over. His friend sent you a quick nod before putting his cigarette out and making his way back into the building.

“How you doing?” Jeff asked as you got closer, and you tried to ignore the fact that he was wearing a tank top which showed off his muscular arms. You snapped out of your reverie and focused on his face instead, which held a goofy smile.

“Good. Just practising routines as usual. We’re all getting ready for the show next month.” You said. You had been dancing since you were born, and it was amazing that you got paid to train and teach kids, while also competing yourself.

“I’m expecting you to win, I mean you can’t let me down.” He replied and you laughed nervously.

“Well there are tonnes of amazing dancers competing this year, so the likelihood of that happening is small. I’m going to have to put all the stops in.” You told him, not feeling confident in your ability to win anything this year. Jeff scoffed.

“Oh come on, how hard can it be to win one of those things? All you have to do is jump about, I’m sure you’ll win.” He said, although the teasing tone of his voice suggested that he was only trying to rile you up,

“Oh really? Why don’t you show me how easy it is then Mr. Perfect?” You smirked and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He smiled before he raised his arms above his head and started to twirl around like a lumberjack doing ballet, not caring about the fact that anyone driving down the street could see him. You started laughing at his antics, and that despite his claims, he had two left feet. Jeff nearly fell over as he spun around, eventually giving up and ending his little routine on his knees. You clapped slowly after his performance.

“Well, what can I say? That was shit Jeff.” You said bluntly and the both of you started laughing at his miserable excuse for dancing.

“Well then let’s hope you’re a lot better and you do me proud.” He said through his laughs and you silently hoped that you would.

“Well of course Mr. Ament. And if you ever feel the need to learn how to dance properly and not like a constipated fish then let me know.” You said and he gave you a small smile.

*****

“Okay, one last run through before you leave guys!” You shouted out in the studio, watching as all the kids got into their starting position for their routine. You had been training the 5-8’s for the past couple of months for the competition, and you had to admit that the routine you had choreographed was showing off how cute they were. You played the music and watched as they danced, trying to pick anyone up for any mistakes or things to improve on. But like you suspected, everything was perfect. You knew that even though the might not win anything tomorrow, it was clear that they were at the best they could be and were going to do amazingly. The song stopped and you started to clap while the kids looked around excitedly, nerves for the competition tomorrow setting in.

“Okay guys, you can go now. Get lots of sleep and make sure you don’t stay up too late!” You said and they all said goodbye to you before running out of the room and meeting their parents.

After a while, you were left alone in the studio, not wanting to go home quite yet. You removed your jumper, only in a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra as you started to move around the room, watching yourself in the mirror as you practiced the routine you were working on. You wove around the room, hearing the music in your head and hearing the sounds of your feet smacking the floor as you leap into the air and extended your body to the rhythm.

You swept your body to the floor with a final flourish as you finished. You stayed in position for a second or two, about to get up, when you heard clapping coming from behind you. You quickly stood up and turned around, only to find Jeff lent against the door frame of the studio and clapping his hands together, giving you a small grin.

“Very nice. If I didn’t know any better I would say you're the next Ginger Rogers.” He said and you scoffed.

“Ginger Rogers was ballroom. And how did you get in here?” You asked quizzically.

“I have my ways. And my reasons.” Jeff replied, still with a goofy grin plastered on his face. You gestured for him to continue, vaguely aware of the fact that you were standing in front of him in a bra.

“Well, I decided that although I love music, I would also love to learn how to express myself in other ways. So I figured I should learn how to dance. And funnily enough I know one of the best dance teachers around and she happens to rehearse across the street.” He finished dramatically and you quirked your eyebrow at him.

“You want to learn how to dance?” You said and he nodded enthusiastically. You sighed but then nodded and he fist pumped the air and made his way closer to you, making you laugh. You told him to get in a certain position and showed him what to do, and he followed. You spent the better part of half an hour trying to get him to do what you wanted, only to find that he - despite your efforts - wasn’t improving at all. He finally conceded and agreed that he was never going to be a good dancer.

“Well if you’re done, I’m going to get changed and then head home.” You said to him, before turning away and leaning down to put your stuff in the gym bag you brought. But you suddenly felt his presence behind you. You stood up and spun around, only to find yourself pressed against his chest. Jeff’s hands made their way around your waist and you look up to find his face directly in front of yours, his breath fanning your face as you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out quiet and breathy as you became overwhelmed by his body pressed against yours.

“Something I should have found the balls to do a lot sooner.” He replied, and stared at you for a few seconds longer, before his lips descended onto yours. They were soft and sweet, just like you could have hoped, and he wove his tongue around yours perfectly, making you release a soft moan into his mouth. That seemed to awaken something in him as you squealed when he suddenly picked up your body. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you up, barely giving you time to think before his lips melded against yours once again. You felt him walk forwards, until one of his hands left you to open a door. He walked the both of you inside, still kissing you intensely, as you realised he had brought you both into the equipment room. He put you down on one of the tables covered by a mat, your legs still wrapped around him tightly. Jeff hooked his fingers in your sweatpants and your panties, and started to pull them down. You released yourself from his body and stepped out of them, unhooking your bra afterwards and watching as Jeff’s eyes hungrily took you all in. He started nearly ripping his own clothes off, which left the both of you naked in front of each other. You didn’t have anytime to appreciate his appearance as he grabbed you and lifted you back up onto the table.

You moaned in ecstasy as you felt Jeff enter you, and his long groan suggested that you were making him feel the same way he was making you feel. His head went straight to your neck as he started to kiss and suck up and along your jaw while he moved in and out of you. You moans and heavy breathing were the only things that could be heard in the room, and you were growing hotter and hotter the faster he moved.

Your mouths met once again and you felt yourself build up around him. He started to move faster and that was it. You let go and screamed out his name, not even being able to keep your body held up due to the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body. You felt Jeff’s body tense up as he released a guttural groan and came himself. Your legs felt like jelly and you were struggling to catch your breath.

“I think I should sign up for your dance lessons officially.” Jeff suddenly said, breaking the silence in the room. You couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, reminding you of the reason you had started to like Jeff in the first place.

“Maybe I could squeeze in a private lesson at some point.” You replied back and earned a smile from him, before he kissed you once again, neither of you making a move to get dressed or leave. You wanted this moment to last forever.

*****

Happy New Years Eve! Here’s a Jeff imagine to bring in the New Year. I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas and I’m sending lots of love and positive vibes your way xxx

[demons-n-daydreams]

Let Tomorrow Come

Pairing(s): Minho/Reader, Reader & Gally, Reader & Newt, Reader & Alby, angst/fluff

Warnings: violence, blood, injury (PLEASE let me know if I missed something)

Requested by: Anon

Request:

(can u do like a thing? like a super angsty maze runner thing where like the reader and minho are super tight and like each other and theyre running partners but also she gets trapped in the maze???? also i want her to be close with the other gladers esp the OG guys like newt/gally but like not too angst bc im still crying over newt k thx going to go cry now)

Word Count: 5.4K

Author’s Note: OKAY LOOK WHO’S WRITING AGAIN??? Requests open here

Your name: submit What is this?

Sweat was dripping down your neck, legs pumping, your breaths even and measured as you ran alongside Minho. Neither of you had spoken for hours; it was a hot day, and you'd been running a lot longer than usual, trying to map out another section of the ever-changing walls.

After about another half-hour of running, you both stopped to take a break, drinking out of your nearly-empty canteens. Leaning back against the wall, you were grateful for the shade and the coolness of the stone against your sweaty, overheated skin. You took only about two minutes, not wanting to linger in the Maze longer than necessary when you had limited time. You took advantage of the small reprieve to look over your partner, taking in the glorious sight of his toned muscles and flushed skin.

"So," Minho said, slightly panting, pulling his leg up to stretch his hamstring. "Head back? We've got," he checked his wristwatch, "twenty-six minutes. Should be enough time."

You nodded, taking a moment to fix your sliding ponytail back into place, looking up at his face with a little joking smile. "Yeah. Don't want your shank-ass endin' up as Griever meat."

Minho smirked, throwing his arm around your shoulders and swaying you around with a teasing glint in his eye. "How could I this beautiful face end up like that with you-" Minho shifted his grip so that both arms were around your waist and he lifted you into the air, spinning you around as you shrieked and laughed, upper body hanging over his broad shoulder, "lookin' out for me? My brave, brave Y/N!"

You giggled like the klunkin' mess you were, willing your face not to redden at the feeling of his arms around you. He set you down, tugging teasingly at the ends of your hair before slinging his arm back over your shoulders, which were exposed in the dirt-smudged white tank top you were wearing. Throwing your arm around his waist and wrestling with him, you exclaimed playfully, "Slim it, shank! Just don't want Newt and Alby up my ass because you were too slow. They kill me, ain't no other girl to keep you klunkheads in line!"

Minho laughed and released you from his grip, leaving behind a hot, lingering sensation where his skin touched yours. "Don't be like that… You know you love me!"

If you only knew. You couldn't stop the blush from staining your cheeks, and you desperately hoped that it was covered by the flush already present from the heat. Poking his stomach, you were about to respond with a pithy retort when you heard a mechanical whirr, no farther than twenty feet away.

Playful mood abruptly gone, you made swift eye contact with a tense Minho, both of you still and quiet as death. It was really close to the time the doors closed; the Grievers must have come out, and your laughs and shouting must have attracted one. Minho swiftly but quietly pulled an arm around your waist and tugged you against the wall, facing his back outwards to shield you. He buried your bodies into the nearby ivy in hopes of staying out of sight until the Griever went away.

Rather than go straight, down the the path perpendicular to the corridor you both standing in, the Griever turned, going down the same passage but in the opposite direction. You let out a hitched breath, the adrenaline coursing through your body making you nearly dizzy. Minho's firm chest, pressed right up against your front, was nearly shaking with the tension and fear. You stood there for minutes, time slipping away until finally, the Griever was out of sight. You both let out relieved breaths, and Minho leaned down to whisper in your ear quietly, "We have nineteen minutes. We have enough time to get back. Stay close."

You nodded, and you both disengaged your bodies, separating from the wall. You began to run back down the path, trying to move as swiftly and silently as possibly. Hopefully, you wouldn't run into a Griever again.

As if you were that lucky.

You only had ten minutes left to get back when you heard the sounds of a Griever close by again. You and Minho didn't bother to stop, just went from a fast run to an absolute sprint. An ear-splitting shriek came from behind you, and you were being chased, the thundering footsteps of the Griever coming far too close. You kept running, not focusing on the beast behind you, only on the quickest route back to the Glade.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right.

"Here!" Minho shouted, grabbing your arm, turning left instead of the right you should have been taking. You didn't protest; this route might have been longer, and you didn't have a whole lot of time, but there were narrow paths and plenty of tight turns this way, which would (hopefully) help shake off the Griever. No matter what it could do to the two of you, there was no way you were going to lead it back to the Glade where all the rest of the boys were.

Your heart was pounding, sweat dripping into your eyes, and you were moving your legs faster than you ever thought possible. Despite how fast you were going, though, it felt as if the filthy, cracked ground beneath you was forcing you backward, with how fast the Griever was advancing on the two of you.

Minho's grunts and your desperate gasps as you pushed your bodies to the limit were drowned out by the roars of the Griever chasing you. You had been running for what felt like hours, barely dodging the stinger and claw-like legs that took terrifyingly close swings at you. The Griever was insanely close, but you didn't bother looking back. There was a narrow corridor up ahead, just small enough to fit you and Minho and would block the Griever out, and you were almost there-

"Y/N!" Minho's voice, full of desperation and gut-wrenching fear, pulled you to an abrupt stop. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the Griever's limb take a swing at his lower legs, the sharp edge cutting deep in his left calf.

"Minho!" you cried, catching him as he stumbled, and you dragged him away from the Griever. Terror filled your bones as you heaved his body towards the restricted path only two feet away, not stopping no matter how exhausted you were, barely dodging the Griever's swiping legs.

You finally pulled him through and the two of you collapsed on the ground, just barely out of the Griever's reach. Scrambling to stand back up, you took a second the take stock of the situation. You'd have to help support Minho- he'd probably be able to support his weight on his leg, but he most likely wouldn't make it to the doors in time unless you helped him run. Your hands shook and your voice trembled, but you were firm in placing Minho's arm across your shoulder as you said, "Come on. We have four minutes left. We have to make it."

Ordinarily, in this route, four minutes would be just enough, but you were already trembling from the exhaustion of the desperate chase despite the adrenaline your system, and Minho was heavy. His much larger body would be hard to haul to now nearly impossible distance to the doors. Never the less, you just set your shoulders determinedly, moving as quickly as you could.

Minho assisted by pushing off with his right leg so you wouldn't have to carry all of his body weight, but after about two tense minutes, he muttered, "It'll be faster if you just-"

"No!" you shouted, not bothering to pause your frantic gait. Your shoulders and back ached almost as badly as your legs from supporting even only part of Minho's heavy weight, but you didn't slow down at all. "I ain't leavin' you here."

Minho just fell silent, not wanting to waste energy arguing with you. He knew you were stubborn as hell, and fighting would just decrease your already slim chances.

It was getting dark really fast when you finally took the last turn, and the doors were finally in sight. The whole Glade had gathered there, and their eyes widened when they caught sight of the two of you, and they began to yell, begging you to go faster.

A resounding crack! went off, and the doors began closing while you were still twenty feet away.

You moved even faster, not knowing how it was possible, but there wasn't enough time. Minho's breath was hot and frantic in your ear, and you were still so far-

Your legs were burning, and tears were beginning to sting your eyes. You weren't going to make it. Only a small opening was available when you were still five feet away, and without thinking, you clumsily threw Minho through it with all the strength left in your worn out body, a wild cry leaving your lips as you collapsed to your hands and knees, making eye contact with him for a split second before the doors slammed shut.

You sat there, panting, aching limbs supporting your heaving body. A small bit of relief went through you that you had gotten Minho out, but that got washed away by the wave of dread that crashed over your body. You were trapped.

No one has ever survived a night in the Maze.

There was dead silence as Minho lay there, collapsed in the grass, leg bleeding sluggishly. He looked uncomprehendingly at the walls that sat before him, still breathing hard. When realization finally dawned on him, he threw his exhausted, pained body against the wall, yelling.

"No!" Minho frantically slammed his fists against the unrelenting stone, the burning pain in his leg barely felt. "Y/N!"

Everyone was suddenly moving very fast, and the world was spinning, and Minho's head abruptly cradled someone's legs. He looked up at Newt's worried face, dizzy and distraught.

"She- she-" he gasped.

"Shh," Newt said, swallowing hard. "We need to get you the Med-jacks. Clint!"

Just as suddenly as he'd fallen, Minho was being hauled up, Clint and Jeff on either side of him, carrying him to the Med-jack room. The crowd around the doors hastily parted for them as they hurried past, Minho dazed and uncomprehending, his legs dragging behind him.

Minho laid there in uncharacteristic silence as they fussed over his leg, someone wiping his dirty face clean and giving him water and food. Everything went down his throat like a lump of cement, and a heaviness pervaded through his entire body, but he didn't let the weight drag him into sleep.

The terrified look on Y/N's face the second before the walls had closed replayed in his mind. He couldn't shake the wide-eyed fear he had seen in her eyes. He just sat there, staring at his now-bandaged leg until a shake against his shoulder startled him out of his trance.

"You good there, shank?" Newt sat at the edge of Minho's bed, brow furrowed in worry. "Bloody gave us a scare, there."

Minho ignored Newt's attempts to distract him. "She's still in there." His voice was hoarse with emotion.

Newt's eyes tightened. He was quiet for a few moments, at a loss for words. Y/N had come up to the Glade just two months after Newt himself had, and in the past couple years, she, Minho and Newt had gotten extremely close. He knew how Minho felt about Y/N. They were more than just running partners; while neither had gotten around to admitting feelings or establishing any sort of relationship, it was commonly known around the Glade that they weren't simply just friends. But Newt knew Y/N just as well as he knew Minho, and he knew that if anyone was stubborn and resilient enough to survive the Maze, it was her. He held onto that hope fiercely, denying any other option.

"She'll make it out," Newt said with quiet conviction. "If anyone can do it, it's her. Now sleep. You'll need some peace and quiet, after..."

Minho nodded, grateful for the reassurance, before finally letting his exhaustion take over him and close his eyes.

His dreams that night weren't peaceful, or quiet.

Eight hours. You only had to be here for eight hours.

You crept slowly along the Maze, trying to be stealthy. You had no idea how close the Griever from earlier was, or how close any other Grievers could be. Any sound made could mean death.

The fear made your heart race and your muscles tense, but you tried to keep your labored breathing as steady as possible, knowing that at any moment you could have to run again.

You had been wandering, quiet and scared, for four hours, according to your wristwatch. You were in a bad way; your legs were tired, and your upper body and back ached from carrying Minho's significantly larger weight. You were out of water and had no food, and your body was trembling from exertion and cold, the afternoon heat giving way to the frigid night air.

Before you could decide whether constant movement or hiding was your best chance of survival, the familiar, dreaded sound of mechanical legs hitting the ground reached you. Your breath caught in your throat and you nearly sobbed in exhaustion, but you broke out into a clumsy run, knowing that stopping for a split second would get you killed.

Adrenaline coursed through your body, and you didn't slow for a moment. The Griever was getting closer, and as you made a sharp turn left, it lashed out, leaving a shallow but long cut along the side of your abdomen, blood immediately starting to soak into your shirt. You stumbled, and before you could regain your footing, the Griever slammed a leg into your injured side, leaving you sprawled on the ground, breathless from the stunning pain.

Fumbling for the knife on your back, you let out a scream as you slashed at the Griever's exposed belly as it stood over you. It reared back, but then lunged for your legs, and your screams echoed against the stone walls around you as you felt white-hot agony race through your lower right leg and the Griever's limb slammed down on it.

Refusing to go down without a fight, you kept slashing and slashing at the Griever's underbelly, sobbing and screaming all the way until, miraculously, it stumbled back and collapsed, twitching violently before lying still.

You laid there on your back, sobbing, clutching your broken leg, ribs burning like hell. You frantically tried to compose yourself; every extra sound, every second there, vulnerable on the ground, led you closer to your death. You had to get out of the open; you couldn't even walk now, much less run. Hiding was the only way to survive.

When you calmed your breaths as much as you could, you took stock of your body; your left side had a long, shallow but bleeding cut, and was bruising heavily from the hit you took. The skin on the front of your right thigh, exposed by your shorts, was torn and also bleeding, but not heavily enough to kill you in the next few hours. The lower part of your right leg, however, was clearly broken in the middle of the bone, and you nearly gagged at the sight of it. The pain from your leg overshadowed every laceration and bruise that littered your body. You were covered in Griever blood, which was more of a black, mucus-like substance. You were absolutely shucked, but you had no choice but to move on; it was either that, or wait in plain sight to die.

About twenty feet away was a wall covered in overgrown ivy; while you definitely couldn't climb, you could try to conceal yourself underneath the big tangle of vines that crawling along the ground.

You took a deep breath and flipped yourself onto your stomach, hurt leg dragging behind you. Taking your right arm, you dragged yourself across the ground, letting out a stifled wail at the pain before biting your lip, body trembling and sweat soaked. Chest heaving, you slowly but surely crawled to the tangle of vines, sobbing softly the whole way.

The Glade was tense, and nobody slept; after silence for a few hours, everyone was on edge.

People had gotten trapped in the Maze at night before; while not a significant part of the population, it was still enough that for the last few they had lost, the boys were resigned to it and would at least fall into a restless sleep, preparing for the inevitable funeral at the Deadheads in the morning.

But this was different. Y/N was the only girl that had ever been in the Glade, the protectiveness that was extended to her, especially by the older Gladers, went above and beyond any other Greenie that had ever come up the Box. Not a single person could sleep; they had all resigned themselves to waiting until morning, hoping and praying she would make it back.

And then they heard the screaming.

It was high-pitched and pain-filled, and everyone, including Minho who'd woken up from a nightmare, was gritting their teeth at the blood-curdling sound. The monstrous roars of a Griever accompanied them, and everyone held their breaths when abruptly, both the roars and screams stopped.

No one said a word; Minho's eyes filled with tears as he sat on the bed in the Med-jack room, and Clint and Jeff said nothing, just exchanging grim glances. Back where everyone else was sleeping in the Homestead, an air of shock and horror muted every boy in the room. Newt and Alby were both tense and upset; Gally, usually so aggressive and outspoken, could do nothing but stare at the ground.

No one dared break the silence.

You finally reached your hiding spot, taking even longer than you thought. By the time you were burying yourself underneath them, completely concealing you from sight, your wristwatch indicated that you had a little over three hours left. The ground below you was dirty and cold, and you shivered. In nothing but the tank top, shorts and running boots that you had been so grateful for during the afternoon's unbearable heat, your body was now recoiling from the cold. Sleep would have been an escape, but you didn't dare; you needed to be alert, just in case, and your heart was pounding too hard in fear to sleep anyways.

So you laid there, in the cold, the pain all over your body a dull roar compared to the merciless throbbing of your broken leg. You laid there for an undetermined amount of time, not wanting it to drag on by constantly checking your watch. The only thing you could see was the darkness beneath the vines, and the dead Griever twenty feet away.

When you finally checked the time, unable to resist, you only had an hour left. You were trembling now, your body cold and exhausted, but your mind still keyed up. The involuntary movement hurt and jostled your leg, but there was nothing you could do about it. You stayed hypervigilant, hoping and praying to the Creators that nothing else would happen. With forty-five minutes left, however, you heard another Griever nearby.

You shut your eyes, tears beginning to stream down your face. Please. No. I'm so close.

You stayed quiet and still, tears cascading down your cheeks noiselessly as the Griever began to walk past slowly. You stifled a whimper as it walked right past you, inches away. Your body was so tense the tremors that had rocked you for hours stopped, and finally, when you heard the mechanical whirrs fade away into the distance, you exhaled, letting out a deep sob.

After taking a long time to finally calm yourself down, you checked your watch. Ten minutes until the doors opened. You were in no condition to even drag yourself out of the tangle of vines, but the Grievers would be gone after the doors opened, and hopefully, the other Gladers would find you. You stuck your uninjured leg out, boot just barely peeking out of the ivy.

You finally let yourself believe you were really going to live, and sighed, relief forcing your body to finally relax from its painfully stiff hold.

You were going to survive.

Alby sighed, frustrated with his injured Keeper of the Runners. "Minho-"

"No, Alby!" Minho interrupted the leader. Usually, despite his hardheadedness, Minho would never disrespect his superior like that, especially in front of all the Keepers during a meeting, but there was no way he was being left behind while they searched for Y/N. He was going to be there. No matter what. "I can walk on it, at least. Jeff and Clint gave me a brace, and they both said that as long as I don't sprint, I should be fine! There's no shucking way I'm staying behind while she's still out there!"

Newt sighed, seeing that this argument was doing nothing but wasting time. The doors were opening in five minutes. Exchanging a resigned look with Alby, he said, "Fine. But you aren't going alone."

Minho relaxed slightly and nodded gruffly at his best friend, grateful. Gally stood up, the rest of the Keepers looked up at him. "I'll go."

Minho didn't bother arguing; it made sense. Fighting against it would just delay finding Y/N. Newt couldn't run, especially since he had aggravated his limp pacing, and Alby was needed, more so now that his second-in-command was out of commission. Gally was physically the strongest Keeper, and Minho's leg wouldn't allow him to carry her out fast enough, if she was injured, or-

Well, if she was injured.

Minho nodded and headed towards the North entrance, Gally trailing behind him.

When the doors opened they immediately began running through the Maze, neither of them speaking. It was nothing like the easy silence of the routine runs with Y/N. It was fraught with tension, and a fear of what they would find. Minho ignored the pain in his leg, hellbent on finding you as quickly as possible.

They ran for almost an hour before Gally said, "Shucking hell-"

Minho whipped his head around the where Gally was staring, and gaped. There was a Griever there, lying on its side, underbelly torn open and a black pool of blood surrounding it. Minho's breath caught in his throat when he saw a trail of both black and red blood smeared along the ground, leading to a tangle of vines, as if someone had crawled away, alive-

Hope immediately rose up inside him, and he fervently prayed please be okay, please be okay.

Gally and Minho both scrambled to the ivy gathered at the wall, and Minho could have sobbed when he saw a small boot, attached to a bruised and cut up leg, sticking out. He couldn't bend down well to drag her away from the vines, but once he stood over where she was, he heard a weak, "Minho-"

Minho collapsed to his knees in relief, heedless of his injury, and Gally knelt down next to him, helping him grab the hands that reached out from the vines. When she was pulled into view, Minho nearly sobbed at the sight of her, heavily injured, skin cold as ice and covered in dirt, and god knew what else, but alive.

Gally and Minho, regardless of their lack of getting along, immediately pulled her into their arms, hugging her between them tightly.

"Ga-gally- Minho-" her voice was hoarse and cracked, and tears were streaming down her face, but damn, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

The three of them knelt there, hugging and trembling for a few moments, before both boys pulled back to look at her. The side of her face was bruised and a little swollen, and the left side of her shirt was caked in blood. The skin of her right thigh was torn up, and the lower portion of the same leg was bent at an awkward angle, but despite the amount of pain she must have been in, Y/N was beaming, the widest smile Minho had ever seen.

Gally smiled back at her fondly, relief relaxing his usually severe expression, and said, "Alright, shanks, back to the Glade. We need to get you to the Med-jacks."

He helped Minho get onto his feet, a little unsteady, and then pulled Y/N into his arms bridal style. She sucked in a sharp breath at her injuries being jostled but immediately curled into the warmth of Gally's body. They walked back since Minho's leg was hurting, and Gally was being cautious not to hurt Y/N more, all three of them nearly giddy with relief.

Newt's leg already hurt like hell from pacing all night, but that didn't stop him from standing at the Maze entrance like everyone else, fidgeting. Normally, Alby would have forced everyone to go back to work, but even he was standing there, waiting anxiously for Gally and Minho to return with you.

They'd been gone for over an hour, and Newt's anxiety levels were through the roof, when finally, they came into view.

Minho was favoring his hurt leg, Gally walking right beside him, and in his arms-

"Y/N!" Newt's heart dropped at the sight of her limp body, but then she lifted her head weakly, and suddenly, the Glade erupted into yelling and cheers and relieved laughter.

"Y/N! Y/N!" All of the Gladers felt the deep knot of tension that had fallen over the whole population loosen at the sight of that little sign of life. When they walked out of the Maze, everyone gave them some space, but they were all cheering and craning their necks to look at their miraculously alive friend.

"Alright, alright!" Alby yelled over all the noise. He tried to be businesslike, but Newt could see the overwhelming relief in the slump of his shoulders. "You've all slacked enough today. She's back. Get to work, shanks!"

The crowd dispersed, their almost bubbly good mood a big contrast to the grim silence of only minutes ago. Ultimately, the only ones who stayed were Newt, Jeff, Clint, Alby, and Chuck, who patted the ankled of Y/N's unhurt (relatively) leg and then left to go back to work.

"Okay, klunkheads," Jeff said, "Med-jack room. Now!"

Gally carried Y/N, and Clint went to swing Minho's arm over his shoulder. Before Newt could protest, Alby did the same to him, and they were all led by Jeff to get help.

Despite the pain in his leg, Newt had never felt so good, even as he was laid down by Alby onto the uncomfortable Med-jack bed. Once he'd helped Newt get situated, Alby walked over to Y/N, who was getting fussed over by Clint.

"Glad you're okay, girl," Alby said softly, laying a hand on hers. She smiled up at him tiredly, squeezing his hand before he let go, walking out to sort out all the work he'd abandoned that morning. Gally just gave her a nod and a small, rare, genuine smile before leaving the room, letting the door shut behind him.

Jeff, once he'd given him some of the muscle ache cream for his leg, instructed Newt to rest. Newt reassured himself that his friend was okay by looking at her exhausted face one more time, and fell asleep smiling to the sight of Minho staring at her from the next bed over like she was the sun in the sky.

Sweating, you whimpered when Clint took a hold of the foot of your broken leg. Minho moved to sit in the chair next to the bed you were laying on, and he grasped your hand. You squeezed it gratefully, tears running down your face as Clint shifted your leg bone back into place. Finally, he finished, and he brought out the (thankfully) rarely-used leg brace sent up by the Creators.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body aching terribly. Your thigh and side burned, especially after Clint had to clean out the wounds, but the pain was worth for the familiar sight of Minho's face, just a foot and a half away. You'd never thought you'd see it again.

Once Clint had finished patching you up, even cleaning your exposed skin as much as he could with a wet rag, he stepped away.

"You'll live," he said, slight teasing smile on his face. You grinned up at him tiredly.

"Thanks, shuckhead." Your voice was scratchy and hoarse, but better after the water he'd given you. You looked at him a little closer, noticing the dark circle under his eyes. You frowned. "Go sleep. I'll be fine."

Clint shook his head. "Ain't I supposed to be the Med-jack, shank?"

You didn't take his shit. "Then you should know that sleep is good. Go," you cut off the beginning of his protest. "Unless I need constant lookin' over, sleep, you stubborn shank."

Clint shook his head again, exasperated but fond. "Okay," he relented. "But you best be yellin' up if you'll be needin' anything, alright?"

You nodded. "Go!"

Clint laughed but ultimately left you alone with Minho and Newt. Newt was in the bed on the other side of Minho's, sleeping peacefully.

Minho, however, was getting up from his seat next to you, letting go of your hand. A small jolt of alarm ran through your sluggish body. "What's wrong? Where are you-"

Minho cut you off by dropping himself onto the side of your bed, seated right next to your uninjured side. You stayed quiet, content to look at him in silence for a little while.

His gaze was roaming up and down your body, cataloging every hurt part of you. You were doing the same to him, looking over his bulging biceps and strong legs, wincing a little at the bandage on his calf.

Minho shifted on the bed, careful not to jostle you, so you were lying down side-by-side. You were a lot smaller than him, so even though the beds were for one, there was enough room for the both of you. Without hesitation, he retook your small hand into his.

You laced your fingers together, looking down at your intertwined hands before looking at his face, only inches away.

"Scared the shuck outta me, Y/N," he said softly. "Never do that klunk to me again, okay?"

You nodded, giving him a weak, sleepy smile. "I'll try not to," you said, injecting a bit of a joking tone. It was quiet for a moment.

"If-" he cut himself off, looking frustrated. "If anything happened to you-"

You tightened your grip on his hand. "No, Minho. I'm here now. That's what matters."

He nodded stiffly, looking into your eyes, still looking a little lost. You looked straight back at him, before your vision dipped a little to his lips.

Looking back into his eyes, you noted the darker tone they had taken, and how they looked down to your lips as well. You carefully adjusted your bad leg so that you could lean over to him, and after a little pause, your lips connected.

The position was a little awkward, and you felt like a steaming pile of klunk, but nothing had ever felt better than how the hand not holding yours slid to steady your hip as he held you against him, both of you laying on your sides to face each other. Your free hand slid to the back of his neck, caressing the short hairs at his nape.

The kiss was kept chaste, but when you pulled back, you had never seen such a heated look in anyone's eyes before. Minho looked seemingly straight into your soul before leaning his forehead against yours, both your eyes slipping shut.

"I love you, slinthead, you know that?" he whispered, like a little secret. Your lips nearly split open from how wide your smile was.

"Love you too, shuckface." You opened your eyes and gave him one last peck, before laying back all the way and snuggling as much as you could into his side.

With your hand still cradled in his, the heat of your body warming him, you both fell asleep, safe.

[glowstickhaloboy]

part 2 of that au where lance is a night vision mermaid

hi im back

link to part 1

the next night, keith is waiting when lance sneaks up to the surface. who knows how long hes been sitting on that rock, but he looks massively bored as lance comes out of the water. then he all but lights up. “you came back.”

lance tilts his head to the side. “stop saying things that will ruin my reputation.”

“i didnt know if you would. i thought i might have been c-”

“did you tell anyone about this?” asks lance.

keith shakes his head, shuffles to the very edge of the rock. “no one. please tell me your name.”

“first,” says lance, “i need to know something. why are you out here? you said you were after knowledge, but for what purposes?”

“what do you mean?”

“what kind of knowledge?”

“anything,” keith breathes, leaning closer. the moonlight shines in his eyes and hair. hes so dry, yet he glows. “everything.”

“and what do you plan to do with it?”

again, that question stumps keith. he sits back on his feet. “i...”

so far, this is going well.

“i’ll tell you,” lance asserts, puffing himself up to his full impressiveness. “nothing. youre going to do nothing with this knowledge except keep it for yourself. any secret i trust you with is meant for you, not your animalistic human world. no publications, no research teams, no clamoring for more evidence to build an arsenal of strategy against my people. and, as always, i decide that if i no longer trust you, i get to drown you.”

keith’s throat bobs at that last statement, but it seems bravery has a furnished home inside his chest. he nods. “i wont betray you,” he says. “not even to my team, if you dont want.”

“no, not even your team. you’ll have to come up with excuses for them.”

keith nods again.

“and one more thing,” lance continues. “i dont think its fair that these secrets are free. youre cute, but youre not that cute. so, heres how itll work: you tell me something about you, and i’ll tell you something about me, and when you get tired or the sun starts to come up, i’ll go back under the surface and we’ll meet again when it gets dark. does midnight sound fair?”

keith begins to nod another time, but stops himself. “hold on,” he says. “will you tell me the truth? i have no way of knowing.”

“of course,” says lance. “mermaids cant lie.”

skeptical, keith narrows his eyes, the cogs visibly turning in his head.

lance snorts. “yeah, that wasnt true. but,” he says, drawing close enough that he could drop his voice to a murmur, “i have no reason to lie to you if i know you arent going to tell anyone else.”

keith accepts this. “can i ask questions if i want to know something specific?”

“yes.”

“okay,” says keith. “you said i go first, so what do you want to know about me?”

“what,” says lance, “is it like to walk on those ungodly tools you call legs???”

keith pulls his knee up to his chest. “this? it’s like... well, its different from swimming. ive been swimming before but, uh,, still had to use these to do it, so i dont really know how to describe it. its like... walking?”

“you,” lance says flatly, “are not the most intellectually evolved of your species, are you?”

“i hunt mermaids for a living because i cant get a real job.”

“can i feel it?”

“what?”

“can i feel your leg?”

if this is a weird request, it cannot possibly be weirder than the event of meeting a mermaid, so keith is unfazed by it. “yeah, sure.”

he sticks his leg out over the water. lance is, at first, a little intimidated by the straightness and inflexibility of it, but eventually he decides that it is basically like a bigger, stronger arm and that humans are very weird. satisfied, he and keith both withdraw.

“okay,” says keith, with the air of somebody about to do something very important after an absurdly long amount of waiting. “what is your name?”

lance smiles. “lance.”

it’s like lance has applied salve to a wound. keith closes his eyes and breathes out through his nose. his shoulders relax. “youre real,” he says, like he just found this out.

“gee, you sure know how to flatter a fish.”

but it starts the conversation. keith tells lance about the practice of cryptozoology and lance tells keith about ocean-bottom culture. keith talks about growing up and going to school, and lance talks about being raised by a family bigger than keith could imagine and learning to provide for each other. keith explains war and lance explains peace.

from there, they go on to ask more personal questions. who is hunk and why would he be upset if he knew you were here? what made you so fascinated with mermaids that you decided to vacation on a rock? keiths eyelids start to droop. lance is getting a little fatigued himself. this conversation is putting even his talking skills to the test, and keiths throat has gone scratchy. its nice. theyre both relaxed. lance becomes aware of how completely comfortable he is.

“its late,” lance says at last. “you dont want your friends to wake and catch you out of your reef. er, bed?”

keith has this look in his eye like hes worried to let lance go in case he doesnt come back.

lance yawns and says, “midnight.”

then he dives under the water.

its strange to think about, but being fully submerged again feels weird after having his head sticking out into the air for four hours. the water is warm on his face. he cant wait to get back to his reef and crash.

except hunk is waiting for him there.

“dude,” he says. “where’ve you been?”

lance’s heart does backflips. WHAT DOES HE SAY?

“hunk,” he says. “you’re here!”

“yeah,” says hunk.

lance tries again for better wording. “what are you doing here?”

“looking for you?? at your house????”

and lance is like, well im fucked.

“i was out,” he hedges. “with, uh, someone.”

“lance, if that were true, you would be over the moon right now and i would have known about it for days because you would never have shut up about it!”

“thats not true! and besides, i wasnt with him like that. well, maybe i was, i dont know... im kind of confused about it.”

“really? you wanna talk about it?”

no.

he doesnt have to fake a yawn. “actually, buddy, i would, but i am super beat. i’ll tell you all about him when i know whats going on. oh, was there something you wanted?”

“just checking in on you. you havent tried sneaking back up to the surface have you?”

“why would you ask me that?”

“because your brain is the ocean’s strongest magnet for horrible ideas.”

“well thanks,” says lance, a little colder than he otherwise would have been. “and i’ll have you know that i have not been to the surface. it’s totally overrated. who’d want to be walking up there on a pair of lame, clunky legs? goodnight, buddy.”

hunk leaves lance to his rest.

and the next night, keith looks different. hes in shorts, the lunatic, with no shirt on and a towel draped around his shoulders.

“what are you doing?” asks lance.

keith merely grunts and slides into the water. he takes a few shuddering breaths and paddles closer to lance.

“i wanted to,” says keith. he holds out an arm. under the waves, lance can feel his clumsy feet kicking and kicking and kicking.

“you know how far down the sea floor is, dont you?” asks lance.

keith says, “im not stupid. i’ll get back on the rock if my legs get tired.”

Legs, Lance thinks with contempt.

“well,” he says, “if youre getting that close, i want to be able to touch you.”

“why do you think i did this?”

and its a great idea until it isnt. it starts off with lance feeling like someone is taking a big risk to be close to him, and his heart tries for a complicated swelling motion before lance manually tamps it down again. he looks at keith’s face and instead of seeing a face which happens to be clearly human, he sees all the fragile features that make it human, and an overwhelming need to protect their delicacy suddenly rises in him.

what simultaneously rises is a wave so strong that it folds over keith and drags him under the water. 

lance’s instincts take control. like lightning, he dives under the water, snatches keith’s arm, and drags him back up to his rock, where he sets him and retreats. keith coughs up water, shaking, and reaches for his towel.

“are you alright?” asks lance.

“you saved me,” says keith, like he cant believe it.

“well, yeah.”

unexpectedly, keith grins at him. “i thought i was just a boring human,” he says. “thought you didnt care if i drowned.”

lance feels an alien heat rise in his cheeks. is the above-surface air getting to him?

“i said i would be the one to drown you,” he argues. “i think thats enough for tonight. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

keiths mouth falls open in protest, but before he can say anything else, lance disappears. he doesnt stop swimming until hes back down at his reef, and even then he feels like the whole ocean can hear his heart hammering. he had saved keith. why had he done that? because he wasnt a bad person, obviously. he wasnt going to just stand by and watch an innocent man die.

but there was something deeper. something that he could not explain and therefore elected to ignore.

[laurelsalexis]

I LOVE your drabbles omg theyre so good!!! I would like to request number 38/falice pleaseee

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

#38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” | read on ao3

Alice stares down at the pregnancy test. The whole line of them since she took as can’t possibly be pregnant. No. It’s not part of the plan. She can’t be some statistic, some pregnant trailer trash whore from the Southside. She can’t. Not when she’s finally with Hal and not when things are finally starting to look up for her now that senior year has rolled around.

It’s not fair.

It’s also not Hal’s.

Alice slides to the floor with the pregnancy test in her hand and cries. It’s soft so her dad doesn’t come and find her. She is not telling him she’s pregnant until she absolutely has to. She doesn’t want to tell F.P. either. It’s all a mess. 

All she wants to do is find a better future for herself. She needs to go to college and get a career, a real one. She can’t be stuck in Riverdale until she grows old. She needs more, she’s worth more. 

She and Hal slept together for the first time last week and she’s been on and off sleeping with F.P. since she first starting sleeping with anyone. It’s poetic in some fucked up way. That he was her first and now her first child is his. None of this is supposed to be happening. 

It takes her an hour before she pulls herself together. She still needs to go to school. She fixes her makeup and puts on a nice outfit. As nice as she has, at least. Since starting to date Hal she’s tried to dress more like the Northside she doesn’t really belong in. The skirt is proper, not too short, and the pink of her sweater is all she needs in order to feel like she’s not a pregnant teenager as she curls her hair in the way she knows Hal likes. 

The soft pink of her lips is another something he likes, versus the red F.P. prefers. Two sides of a coin and there she is, desperately trying to shed her snake image like there isn’t a tattoo resting beneath her clothes that tells her where she really belongs.

She’ll break free no matter what she has to do.

As she walks to school, deliberately going the long way to avoid F.P., and sneaking in through the side to avoid Hal, she decides that she won’t tell anyone. If she waits long enough she can pass it off as Hal’s and no one will be any wiser. It’ll be fine. She’s going to do what is best for her and that’s that.

It’s not that simple. 

Not when she’s walking through the quad as she moves to find Hal for lunch. She can see F.P. sitting with Fred, Hermione, and Mary. He’s sitting on the table with his feet on the chair, telling some story, as some girl hangs off his arm. One of the cheerleaders that Alice can’t remember the name of. Not that she cares. She definitely doesn’t care that she’s nearly sitting on his lap with her too short skirt and looking at him like he’s some sort of God, not a Southside Serpent. Then again, she gets the appeal. 

She nearly smacks right into Penelope.

“Watch it.” Penelope nearly snarls at her, but she turns her head to see what exactly Alice is looking at. There’s a roll of her eyes as she crosses her arms across her chest. “He’s trash and you’ve moved on to better things.” 

Alice nods and does her best to not touch her stomach. There’s an instinct to and some instinct to defend F.P. In the end, she remains quiet. “And her?”

That causes Penelope to roll her eyes again and look to Alice. “She’s a slut and willing to sleep with anything that moves. F.P. is just her choice this week.” Penelope forces a smile. “But don’t worry,” she takes a step closer, a forced smile on her lips, “Hal is still interested in you no matter your sordid past. Apparently he doesn’t mind Serpent leftovers.” 

It’s not a compliment and they both know it. The way Penelope sizes her up only makes her feel more on edge and she wants to puke. On her, preferably, but that will only raise questions she is no mood to answer. “Don’t be jealous.”

“Of you?” She laughs, loud and free, yet dark all at the same time. “Never.” 

“Alice.” Hal comes over, standing next to her. “There you are.”

“Hal.” Alice smiles at him and smirks at Penelope before taking his arm and walking off. She has someone other people want and that’s enough for her to feel better than Penelope. Not that any of it makes her feel better in general, not when she feels Hal grab her hand, and she turns her head back to look at F.P. who has his arm around the girl now. 

She’s not jealous. 

Two weeks pass and she definitely knows she is pregnant. She can feel it. Luckily, she hasn’t started showing yet and her doctor’s appointment isn’t for another week. She’s nauseous and tired all of the time. All she wants to do is sleep and puke. Any time she tries to eat something she feels rotten to the core and it ends up in her toilet before she can do anything. 

She still hasn’t told Hal and has no plans to. It’s almost Homecoming and she wants to have a perfect night before she tells him that she’s pregnant. With his baby. He hasn’t figured it out yet, and if he has, then he isn’t saying anything. She’ll take it. 

The pack of saltines in her bag are the only thing she really eats unless she’s home. At school she’s careful and notes that it looks like she’s just watching her weight. Penelope made some snide comment about it but she ignored it, per usual. 

It’s not as if her weight is any concern when she’s going to bow up like a whale in the next few months. 

When school lets out for the day she walks to the bleachers by the football field. She really should go home. Hal invited her over for dinner with his parents and she gladly accepted. She needs to change into something even more proper and make sure she looks perfect.

She is not going to disappoint the Coopers. Not yet, at least. 

But she climbs up the bleachers until she’s sitting in the middle. She pulls her jacket a little tighter around her for warmth, looking down at the players on the field. It’s these moments that she really hates F.P. the most. He fits in so well despite his Serpent status. 

People care, sure, but F.P. doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to him. He lets people talk about it and he lets the girl fawn over him because he’s the bad boy. But from the moment she stepped foot in that school with her connection to the Southside and F.P. it’s been nothing but trouble for her.

Even pulling away from them hasn’t changed what so many think about her. 

Her hand goes to her stomach then. Only because no one is around to see her and she has an excuse ready if someone is to see her. She has half a mind to tell him but knows it’ll make things all too complicated for everyone.

She’s not heartless. She is just doing things so everyone can move on the way they are supposed to.

F.P. gets tackled by one of the other guys and she winces by how hard he hits the ground. He bounces back instantly and he’s fine. They continue with practice and she doesn’t even think about moving.

Instead she thinks about their baby growing inside of her and how they’ll never have that life together. Two kids from the Southside don’t make for anything real. He doesn’t even speak to his parents and she’s not ready to be stuck there for life. It’s a dark and twisted world down there and if the Serpents even caught world of this and everything else…she’ll never get out. 

It breaks her heart even if she knows it’s right. 

She thinks if she stops to speak with him then she’ll end up telling him, so she collects her stuff. She’s a bit dizzy as she stands and walks slowly down the steps, doing her best not to fall. That’s the last thing she needs. Only the wave of nausea becomes too much and she stops when she reaches the small platform, hands on the railing, standing there and breathing. 

Practice ends by then and she’s trying her best to not bring attention to herself. Of course, it’s not that simple when she makes eye contact with F.P. Ignoring how terrible she feels she walks down the ramp and onto the tar, before trying to make her way out of the field and literally anywhere in which he won’t find her. 

“Alice.” F.P. calls out for her.

She lets out a breath as she thinks about walking and sitting, getting something proper to eat. Not talking to F.P. so she ignores him. As best as she can, until it’s too much and that ends up being the last thing she remembers. 

Her eyes open softly and she can see the dreaded light in the ceiling the dreaded tile she spends so much time staring at while she’s not listening to her history teacher who wouldn’t know anything if it bit him in the ass. The smell doesn’t help anything and she truly wants to puke, again 

There’s a soft groan as she sits up, slightly, resting herself on her arms. It’s easy to see F.P. sitting there in one of the chairs. He’s still in his football uniform and is watching her carefully. 

“Oh, fuck.” She whispers more to herself than to him. None of this is going to plan. The only good thing is that they are in the nurse’s office in the school and not the hospital. Not as if they are going to randomly test her and pop in to tell her what she already knows. 

“You’re awake.” F.P. says as he sits up a little in the chair, leaning forward.

“Yeah.” She swallows and sits up completely, swinging her legs around the side, smoothing out the fabric of her skirt. She refuses to look at him until she thinks that makes her more suspicious. Instead she looks up at him, but doesn’t smile. Rather puts on her hardest face she can manage and turns into something that she hasn’t always been with him. “What happened?”

“You fainted…straight into my arms.” F.P. smirks then, unable to help himself, scooting himself a little closer to her. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Alice scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. “Keep dreaming, Forsythe.” 

“I didn’t dream you at football practice.” 

“I was,” she’s not fast enough in thought, hating herself for it, “doing some…work.” 

“Convincing.”

“Shut up.” She isn’t as harsh as she normally is ever since they officially called it off for good. “Maybe I was writing something for the Blue & Gold.”

“Yeah, okay.” F.P. doesn’t believe it for a second. “You haven’t had a nice thing to say about me since you decided Cooper was more your taste.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Nope.” He lets the latter half of the word pop before he leaning against the chair. “Didn’t plan on leaving you.”

Maybe anyone else would think that’s sweet, but it only manages to hurt more. She knows she can’t tell him, if she had any doubts before, knowing that he would not leave her alone if he knew she was having his baby. He would want to make a family and to be there for her every step of the way. “You can go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Alice asks without missing a beat. “I just didn’t eat enough today.” 

F.P. looks at her like he doesn’t believe her for one damn second. “You’re hot, Alice. Don’t let those Northside bitches make you think otherwise.” Is all he says as he stands. 

“F.P.” She whispers, clasping her hands in her lap. There’s so much she wants to say. So much she doesn’t say. It’s a secret she has to take to the grave and no matter how she feels about him she can’t let something as silly as her heart determine her future. “Could you get Hal?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get Hal.” 

Alice doesn’t miss the hurt in his face and she feels bad, she does. The hormones make her feel even worse about everything and she half wishes she could just run away. Not just from everyone but those problems of hers, too. “Are you going to Homecoming?” 

“Yeah.” F.P. turns around, leaning against the frame of the door, popping that gum of his. “Fred and I are gonna play. Thinking about asking Carol.”

“Carol.” Alice speaks out her name a little too loudly. “That’s her name.”

F.P. arches his eyebrow at her. 

“I saw you two, together, at lunch. I always see you two together. She’s always on your arm.” 

F.P. smiles at that, a little too much. “Jealous, are we?”

“No.” The answer is too quick. “Just wondering how bad of taste she has.”

“No worse than you. She didn’t pick the most boring guy in the whole town to shack up with.”

“He’s not boring.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You’re just into her because she has nice tits.” Alice dares him to say otherwise through look alone.

“And?” He asks, waiting for her answer. The one that doesn’t come. “You left me.”

“I know.” 

“I’m not mad, I get it.” He tells her, softly. he looks like he wants to move closer, but he doesn’t. “Just promise me you’ll eat something, okay?”

Alice nods. “I promise.” 

She doesn’t thank him. She should but he doesn’t. Instead she lets him leave as she sits there and waits for Hal. Her boyfriend. The man who will be father to the baby growing inside of her, even if it does belong to F.P. 

It’s better for everyone.