#and that HARDLY counts. they went for an hour long lunch break before sprinting back across the Channel as fast as they could

[crowlixcx]

'good omens is amazing because Aziraphale and Crowley could have been anywhere, at any point in time, and it's basically canon' brother those bitches haven't left the UK since 1793

[emeralddaydream]

𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙸𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙾𝚏?

Kit x GN!Reader

Rating: General

Word Count: 2848

Warnings: None, just lots of fluff✨

Requested by Anon: Mayhaps prompt 84 (“No, Mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”) with Kit Walker, but instead he's talking to Jude, Thomas, and Julia. Kit had been dating you for a while and he accidentally had let it slip that he loves you to his family (they all tease him about it constantly). You were planning on visiting later (so everyone could go to the park together or do some other adorable activity) and Kit just knows that someone is going to tell you, and he is trying desperately to avoid that

A/N: Okay, firstly, anon, thank you so much for your lovely message. I haven't been too kind to myself lately (workin' on it), so I really appreciate you being so understanding💜

I kind of went off the rails with this one, and it doesn't actually include the prompt sentence, and the prompt itself is a lil different, but same basic idea, I think... I really hope you like it!!

Also, Jude is healthy bc I refuse to make this angsty.

The title comes from 'I Think I Love You' by The Partridge Family, and on that note, I'm also dedicating this to one of my favorite humans. She's not really into AHS, but David Cassidy is her mans, so Sierra, this one's for you!! Thank you for always being a wonderful friend💜💕

“Jude, I need your help.”

In general, Kit Walker considers himself to be a pretty easy-going guy; usually, there isn't much that gets to him. But today’s different. There’s something that he’s simultaneously ecstatic about and dreading.

Today's the day you’ll be meeting his family for the first time.

“With?” Jude’s smirking amusedly where she sits across from him at the kitchen table sorting dish ware and arranging it carefully in the picnic basket in front of her. Kit glances at the clock on the wall and sighs; he's got just over an hour before he, Jude and the kids are supposed to meet you at the park, and he couldn’t be much more anxious about it if he tried... Not for nothing, though.

“I just wanna make sure today goes well.” He finishes wrapping the sandwich in his hand, placing it in the basket to join the plates.

“And you don’t think it will?” Jude raises an eyebrow; she may be a particularly perceptive woman, but it isn't very difficult to see that there's something Kit isn't saying.

His mind drifts for a moment to the other night, when he and Jude sat in the living room, chatting quietly after the kids had gone to sleep. She’d asked about you, and before Kit knew it, he was spilling his guts to her, finally speaking the words he’s been unable to say to you. It’d felt amazing to finally get them out... until he noticed Julia peaking around the door frame, brown eyes trained on he and Jude She scurried off, giggling quietly down the hall, and when he asked her about it the next day, it was clear to Kit that his daughter had heard the entire conversation. And it didn’t need to be said that she had told Thomas; the two of them have never kept anything from each other in their lives…

“I hope it does.” Kit replies after several moments of silence. He’s not at all concerned about whether or not you’ll get along with his family. There’s no doubt in his mind that Jude will be taken, and the kids are going to adore you. “I just need help makin’ sure they don’t say anything.” He glances toward the two small figures in the next room where they lie on the floor, markers in hand as they draw colorful pictures and fill out puzzles from the day-old newspaper Jude had provided to keep them occupied.

“About?” Jude's smirk grows into a playful grin. She’s having fun with this; a little too much, in Kit’s opinion. He scowls and she laughs quietly.

“About... y’know?”

“About how you love them?” Jude’s voice carries into the next room a bit too loudly for Kit’s liking, and his eyes go wide. He places a finger to his lips, eyes darting to the children to make sure they’re still distracted; so far, so good.

“Yes.”

“Well, when are you going to tell her? You’re not getting any younger, y’know.” Kit's unable to stop the smile that breaks across his face.

“Soon. I just… need to find the right moment.”

“There’s no such thing as the right moment, Walker," she chortles, rolling a bundle of silverware into a napkin. “But…I’ll do my best.” Kit smiles gratefully, but she shakes her head continuing. “But they’re kids. Kids'll say whatever they want to.” Knowing she's right, Kit groans, running a hand through his hair before feeling around in the pocket of his jeans for his pack of cigarettes.

He's in for an interesting day.

——

The worn wood of the bench feels rough under your fingers as you tap against it anxiously. You take a quick peak to your right again, in search of the vehicle you’re waiting for. It’s a big day. In just- you glance down at your watch for the fifth time – two and a half minutes, your boyfriend is supposed to arrive with his family.

It terrifies you.

It’s not that you have any issues with kids. You love them. Becoming a parent has always been a part of the plan for you. However, you don’t have much experience with them and, this is the first time you’ve ever been with someone with children of their own. It’s... intimidating.

Kit, however, has been nothing but reassuring. A small smile crosses your face, thinking of the last thing he’d said to you when he'd called last night. Don’t worry, babe. They’re gonna love you.

God, you hope he’s right.

Kit’s told you so much about his kids over the last several months the two of you have been together, and you can tell by the warmth in his voice, by the way his eyes light up when he tells you something funny one of them did, that they are his world. As they should be. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

There's absolutely no doubt in your mind that you've fallen head over heels for this man... That’s what's so frightening; you don’t want to screw anything up. For anyone's sake.

You’re in the middle of reciting some of the things Kit had told you about the kids- ‘Julia’s really into football right now, a little chatterbox, and Thomas loves readin’, but he’s pretty shy’- when you hear tires making their way along the narrow dirt road. Turning your head again, your stomach flips when you see the familiar station wagon- much fuller with people than normal- pull into the small parking lot. You smile, raising your hand in a wave when Kit sees you, and swallow hard.

The driver’s door quickly opens, and Kit makes his way over, basket in hand. The passenger, Jude, stays behind to help the kids out of their seats.

“Hey, you.” Kit murmurs, a smile on his face as he leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Hi.” With a shaky breath, you take your bottom lip between your teeth when he pulls back. With a sympathetic smile, Kit takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“They’re gonna love you,” he reminds, and you huff a laugh. Julia begins speaking excitedly as she hops out of the car; you can’t make out what she’s saying, but she sounds enthusiastic, so you’re taking that as a good sign.

“If you say so.” You grip his hand more tightly and he chuckles as the two of you make your way toward the sound of the animated voice.

Now or never.

“Y/N!” You jump at the sound, completely taken off guard- even more so when something barrels into you, wrapping around your waist. You look down to see the small girl- the one that you recognize from the many pictures Kit has shown you -beaming up at you. Kit laughs, scooping her up into his arms as Jude moves to stand in front of the three of you. Thomas hangs onto her hand, hiding behind her dress.

“Y/N, this is Jude, Thomas, and you’ve already met Julia.” He shakes his head, tickling his daughter’s ribs until she’s leaning into him, in a fit of giggles.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all,” you say, hoping the smile on your face doesn’t come across as uneasy.

“We could say the same to you. This one,”- she gestures to Kit- “is talking about you constantly.” You smile widely at this, eyes moving to Kit to find his cheeks turning rosy.

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh!” Julia chimes in, Thomas slowly nodding his agreement.

“Oh, you.” You nudge Kit’s arm gently, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between the children. Jude lets out a trill of laughter then, taking Julia’s hand in hers.

“Why don’t we find somewhere to sit? I’m sure we’re all getting hungry.” The kids agree enthusiastically, taking off in a sprint toward a nearby gazebo where several tables sit. “Hey, slow it down, you two!” Jude calls, following them.

You turn to Kit, who brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss there; there’s something about his expression that you can’t quite place, but he seems happy, so you’re happy. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, letting your hands fall and dangle together as the two of you slowly make your way to the table where the children sit, awaiting their lunch. Julia laughs beckoning the two of you over, and there’s a shy little smile on Thomas’ face. Your nerves are slowly fading, and you let out a breathy sigh, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.”

--

The meal is fantastic, and by the time you’re wiping your mouth on your napkin and placing it down on the empty plate in front of you, you can hardly remember why you were so panicky about this meeting in the first place. The food is delicious, Jude accepting your compliments on her potato salad graciously. The two of to you discuss your job, her asking about the intricacies of what you do. Not in a prying way, though; she seems genuinely interested.

It’s not long before the kids take to you, either. Julia already has, it seems, as she insists on sitting across from you while you eat. She tells lots of stories; everything from the science project she and Kit have been working on for school, to the time that Jude took her and Thomas to the zoo.; you find out that hippos are her favorite animal. “Isn’t it so cute when they wiggle their ears??” she asks.

Thomas takes a bit more coaxing, but not much; not when you decide to ask him what his favorite book is. His eyes light up and he brings up several, speaking excitedly about a chapter from the one he's currently in the middle of.

“Daddy, can we play now?” Julia asks, setting her fork down; she bounces around like she’s ready to jump out of her seat, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Sure,” Kit chuckles, placing his empty glass of iced tea on the table. I’m just gonna use the bathroom real quick, but go onnahead.” He stands, patting your shoulder. Shooting what he hopes is a discreet glance Jude's way, he moves toward the small bathroom stalls a few yards away.

Jude laughs, a soft smile on her face, watching as Julia moves to cling to your arm. “Alright, Thomas, it. looks like it’s you and me. What do you wanna do first?” She takes the small boy’s hand, and he leads them in the direction of the sandbox.

Julia glances around, and when she sees that everyone’s out of earshot, she leans into you, bringing a hand to her mouth to ask, “Y/N, can I tell you a secret?”

Her over-exaggerated whisper and enthusiasm make you giggle, and you nod. “Sure.”

She climbs into the seat beside you, leaning in closer to speak into your ear. “My daddy loves you.”

You’re quiet for several seconds, having absolutely no idea how to respond. You look down at her, eventually stuttering out, “O-oh… really? How do you know that?” You're half expecting a nonsensical answer, but when she opens her mouth, the young girl is serious.

“I heard him and Nana talking about it the a couple'a nights ago when I got out of bed for a drink of water.” She grins up at you. “…But I can just tell.”

“H-how can you tell?”

She shrugs. "He smiles when he talks about you." Her answer is so simple, so pure, and it holds so much meaning; you're sure there's a dopey grin growing on your face right now.

“Well, your dad’s pretty great. And I think you’re pretty great, Julia.” Her smile grows impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. You hold her tiny frame and are on cloud nine when you spot Kit closing the door to the restroom behind him; when he sees the two of you still sitting there, he makes his way over.

Kit chuckles to himself, overcome with joy when he walks out of the bathroom to see you holding Julia in an embrace, smiles on both of your faces. He walks slowly toward you, silently praying that his daughter hasn’t said anything she shouldn’t have. So much for Jude’s help… Should'a known better. He glances at his friend, sitting on the edge of the sandbox with his son. Jude looks up, smirking, and he rolls his eyes at her.

Nevertheless, he’s decided. It has to be now.

“What’re you two doin’ over here?” He places a warm hand on your arm as he stands behind you, appraising his daughter. “Jules, I thought you wanted to play? You’ve been sayin’ how excited you were for the jungle gym all week.” Julia’s small legs swing back and forth as she watches her father, with a shrug.

“I wanted to talk to Y/N first.”

“Well, we can keep talking while we play, then,” you decide, standing quickly, but Kit grabs your hand, stilling you.

“Actually, I wanna talk to you about somethin’ real quick.” His voice is low in your ear, and he watches his daughter tensely.

“Oh, o-okay.” Your eyes move to Julia and you smile. “Why don’t you go down the slide a few times, and I’ll be over there in a minute?”

“Okay!” The little girl jumps from her spot, sprinting toward concrete of the playground.

“Be careful!” Kit shouts after her. With a chuckle, he takes his previous seat and pats the one beside him. You smile happily, leaning your head on his shoulder when you move next to him.

“They’re really great, Kit. All of them.”

Kit smiles proudly, watching as Jude helps Thomas make some sort of sculpture in the sand. “They are,” he agrees with a nod. “Jude likes you. The kids really like you.”

“I’m so glad.” You sigh in relief, turning to meet his gaze. “I was so worried they’d all hate me.”

“How could they?” he asks, leaning in to place a sweet peck to your lips. You smile against his mouth, your own tingling as he pulls back. You can’t help but glimpse toward playground to see if the kids have noticed. They’re still preoccupied, but Jude’s noticed; she sends you a wink and your cheeks grow warm. Seeing the exchange, Kit scowls playfully, waving a hand at her. She laughs, turning back to the sandy masterpiece Thomas is working diligently on.

“So,” Kit begins... Deep breath. “There’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you about.”

“Okay.” Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. “What’s up?” …Could it be?

“It’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while, actually. He’s looking at his hands as he says this, biting down on his bottom lip when his gaze finally meets yours. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in… a long time. Not since...” He trails off, but you know he’s thinking of the kid’s mothers, so you nod in understanding. “Honestly it’s a little scary, but I think I- I mean, I know I-“ He cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “Christ. I dunno why this is so hard, I just…” He sighs deeply.

“…Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you, too.”

“You… you love m- wait, what?” His eyes grow wide, and he groans after a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Julia told you?” You can't help but laugh quietly, nodding your confirmation. “I shoulda known. My little blabbermouth.” A wistful smile grows on his face, and the amount of adoration you feel for this man in this moment is staggering.

“So… it’s true, then?” you ask, taking one of his hands in both of yours.

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. “I love you, Y/N. I do.” His voice is hardly above a whisper, but it feels like a shout; a declaration. Your returning smile is bright, certainly one of the best Kit’s ever seen- one he’s sure he’ll remember for the rest of his life -and when you wrap your arms around his neck, his own widens further, the muscles in his face beginning to ache, but he couldn't care less.

“I love you, Kit Walker. So much.” You move in for a kiss of your own; it’s short, but full of more meaning than any you’ve ever had.

Pulling back, you pat his knee gently. You stand from your seat, offering a hand out to him. “C’mon. Earlier, I promised Julia I’d watch her on the monkey bars.” Kit laughs, taking your hand and slinging an arm around your waist once he’s standing. You make your way to where the girl is currently whizzing down the largest slide in the park, squealing with laughter. Glancing at the sandbox, you see Jude eyeing you, a knowing smirk on her face; you blush, but smile back.

Right here, right now, moving toward the laughter of Kit’s loving family, there isn’t a sliver of doubt in your mind that this is meant to be.

This is where you belong.

taglist: @therenlover, @tatestripedsweater, @kitwalker02, @ladyfogg, @mossybank, @undeadcortez, @sallyscigarettes, @xmaximoffic, @samsassinparvismagna, @liandav, @kitwalkerangel, @elaineygrace, @milly-louise @americxn (please feel free to fill out this form to be added/removed for future fics)

[ezrasarm]

Loving You Too Late

[ day 3 | angstaggedon masterlist ]

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: You and Frankie have loved each other for a long time. You’re just a little out of synch.

Warnings: Angst, a tad bit of cheating (more like brief romantic overlap), language, main characters being idiots, oh and theres a funeral too

Credits: A massive thank you to @chaotic-noceur​ and @din-damn-djarin​ for beta reading and listening to me complain about how much of an idiot I am for deciding to write this! I don’t know that I would have finished it without your encouragement and now it’s the longest oneshot in my repertoire!

A/N: “Let’s write oneshots!” we said. “It’ll be fun!” we said. “Just connect the bullet points!” we said… 4.6K words later. Yeah we really have no self control at all do we?

You and Frankie had known one another pretty much all your lives. Your parents both had cottages on the same small lake where you would spend most of your summers. His place was just two doors down from your own so you knew who he was through community events and simply for being the “Morales Kid”. You hadn’t really gotten to know him until one summer when you applied for a job at the general store just across the lake. He was working stocking shelves the same year. You don’t think you’ll ever forget that first shift you shared together. You hadn’t seen him in a couple of years and you could hardly believe the name tag clipped to his shirt labelled “Frankie” when you first set eyes on him. He’d grown up a lot in the meantime. He was taller, his shoulders had broadened and he was more solidly built than the lanky little kid you’d known him as for so long. But the mop of wild chestnut curls on top of his head that he hid under a beat-up and salt-stained truckers cap assured you it was him. 

It was the boredom of day-long shifts in the near-empty store that made the two of you overcome your timid demeanours. It started with you offering him a soda on one of your lunch breaks. That turned into long conversations with one another when your boss was nowhere to be seen, sending goofy looks to each other over the shoulders of unsuspecting customers, and stealing the occasional ice cream from the freezer. Soon just hanging out at work turned into hanging out whenever you got the chance. You peering over his shoulder as he tinkered with boat motors he’d salvaged from the brink of death. Him timing you when you would swim lengths between the neighbour’s dock and your own. Before you knew it you were taking any excuse you could to spend time with one another, until it came to the point where you didn’t even need an excuse at all. Suddenly you and this shy kid with his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds were inseparable.

Of course, Frankie being Frankie didn’t realize what that clenching feeling that rose in his chest every time he set eyes on you was until it wasn’t there anymore. Summer had to come to an end at some point, and with it you two were reluctantly dragged away to your respective ends of the state to finish off school. The almost seven-hour drive between you complicated your usual hangout rituals but you took to calling one another whenever you got the chance. Frankie’s friends would tease him for it but he practically sprinted across the room whenever the phone rang. He had thick skin. He brushed them off when they would hoot or holler and make kissing sounds at the mention of your name. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He would remind them through an irritated roll of his eyes whenever they would ask about you. What he hadn’t realized was that the annoyance he felt towards them wasn’t because of their mocking tone or their rowdy demeanours but because a part of him wished you were.

It was a Friday night after you had ended your call with a heavy yawn and an apology that you had to go to sleep because you were up early that morning. A goofy smile lingered on his face as he flopped back into his bed, that infectious laugh of yours was still ringing in his ears when that feeling washed over him again. The same one that made his stomach flip when you would shoot him a grin from the checkout of the shop. The one that made his blood boil when his friends would joke at him for making you up. The one that made his heart break when the line went dead after you hung up. The one that made his palms sweat and his heart hammer against his ribcage at the mere thought of you. Suddenly it hit him like a freight train all at once. It was too obvious to deny any more. He was completely, absolutely and utterly head over heels for you.

But as school work ramped up and your agenda got fuller and fuller, your calls became fewer and farther in between. A quick ‘hello’, ‘what’s new?’, ‘nothing much’ and a ‘sorry, I gotta go’. There were a few times where he almost let it slip. The conversation would come to a lull and his eyes would fall to his feet. His hand would instinctively come to scratch the back of his neck as he readjusted his grip on the phone. He would even start the sentence. “Listen, uh” Then he’d shake the thought away. As desperate as he had grown to tell you how he felt he couldn’t bring himself to do it over the phone. He needed to see your face. He wanted to lock his gaze onto those beautiful eyes of yours and see your reaction. His skin crawled at the idea of the words tumbling out of his mouth only for you to go silent and that dreaded tone to ring through the line telling him you had hung up. He would tell you this summer, he promised himself. Just a few months. He could hang on that long. 

Which he did. He had a speech planned by the time he watched your car pull up the driveway to the small wooden cabin you called your home every summer. A smile broke across his face as he stood up from the doorstep where he had been waiting to greet you. You came barrelling out of the car the moment it came to a full stop, just about knocking him over with the force you collided to envelop him in a tight hug. 

“Why are you crying, you big baby?” He teased when you pulled away only for him to see your eyes were watery with unshed tears. 

“Because I missed you, you idiot!” You force out a laugh, whacking the visor on his cap lightly so it fell down in over his line of sight before wiping away the damp from around your temples with the heel of your palm.

Frankie’s heart is hammering in his chest when he parts his lips to speak again. He’s got the words on the tip of his tongue when a voice he doesn’t recognize emerges from behind you. “So you’re the famous Frankie I’ve heard so much about!” He feels the smile on his face drop the moment his eyes fall on the stranger in question who has now tucked his arm around your waist. “I’m Mike.” He says, an amiable smile on his face as he extends a free hand to shake. Frankie hesitates a moment, his confession from before still lodged in the back of his throat. He has to choke it down with a curt smile before he accepts the gesture. He’s not sure how long he stands there, politely nodding along to the conversation, his mind elsewhere as you make introductions he’s not ready to hear. You looked so happy together he can’t help but feel out of place. He’s not even sure what words he used to excuse himself as he retreats down the beaten dirt path that leads back to his place. 

He’d never felt his emotions flip on their head so fast he felt he might have vertigo. Yet here he was, his head spinning and the taste of bile bitter on his tongue. He felt like a fool. Wracking his brain for any sign you could’ve given him, any warning that would have told him to stop. Stop loving you as though that were a thing that was within his power to do. He’s got every phone call you had shared since you left playing on repeat in his head but he keeps coming up empty. You gave him nothing. That or he was too selfishly consumed in his own ardency for you that it hadn’t even occurred to him that you might already have your own… for someone else.

“Hey, where were you?” You asked him from where you’d perched yourself on the stretch of dock just in front of the boathouse. His boathouse. Your toes just barely skimmed the surface of the calm water sending ripples across the lake. It had been three days that you hadn’t seen him, a long stretch by your standards. At first, you had simply put it down to him being busy. Maintaining his parent’s property was no small feat and there was no one there to help him yet this season. But the longer you went without a sign of him the more worried you started to get. 

“Had to pick up gas for the boat.” He said, jostling the jerrycan in his grasp and you formed your mouth into an ‘o’ as you nodded in understanding.

“Did it strand you in the middle of the lake again?” You ask a smug grin pulling at the corner of your lip as you recall the time you saw him fruitlessly rowing the old fishing boat against the wind with only one ore and had to go out there and rescue him yourself.

“No,” He scolds you genially as he comes to sit next to you with a heavy sigh. “...not this time.” He adds, causing an affable chuckle, one that made his heart skip a beat in his chest, to escape you. It’s only when he catches himself staring at your up-quirked lips that he has to clear his throat. A pang of guilt that hasn’t quite become custom yet is nagging at the back of his mind as his gaze falls in front of him. 

“Where’s Mike?” He asks hesitantly, not entirely sure he wants an answer to that question yet.

“He left this morning.” You say. He hates that the sombre note to your voice actually gives him an ounce of hope for a moment. “He has to be back in town for work on Monday.”

“Ah, a city boy.” Frankie teases in an attempt to muffle his own disappointment and you jostle him with your shoulder chidingly.

“Hey, lay off.” You laugh softly before your tone shifts and those upturned corners of your mouth drop wistfully. “I thought you’d like him.” You said, quieter now as though you weren’t convinced you wanted him to hear it. 

He hated the way you looked up at him, your eyes blown wide with such expectation. He hated that his opinion mattered and that it wasn’t the one you wanted to hear. Because that was just it. Frankie did like him. Or at least he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. He should like him and yet the mere mention of ‘Mike’ made him want to punch a wall. He’d been hiding away this entire weekend because he could hardly stand the thought of looking you in the eye when he couldn’t tell you the one thing that had been playing in his mind on a loop for months. Yet here you were, forcing his hand and he couldn’t even be mad about it. He was just so desperate to be near you.

“I- yeah.” He clears his throat as his gaze falls to the water, and a pregnant pause fills the air. You purse your lips as it hits you that he’s less enthused about this introduction than you had hoped he would be. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” He huffs out softly through an obviously feigned attempt at a smile. But the truth was you didn’t know. Or at least you didn’t want to know. You couldn’t figure out why but something in the back of your mind had told you it would hurt him. And with the look on his face as you tried to come up with a decent answer, he was beginning to prove you right. 

“I don’t know.”

You hadn’t intended for it to work out this way. But that just so happened to be the last conversation you had with him. You left for university and the next thing you heard, he had shipped out and joined the army. Perhaps it would have stung a little less had he been the one to tell you, but you had to hear it through your parents when you went home for mid-term break. Everything about the way you left things with him made you sick to your stomach. You had drifted apart from your fair share of friends over the years. It was never easy. It always hurts. But it had never hurt like this. It took you years to find out why.

“Whatever happened to you two?” Margaret, the next-door neighbour who lived just between your cottage and Frankie’s, asked, looking fondly at the scrapbook in her lap. “You were always so cute together.” She added, her voice warbling with what she excused as ‘age’. She had come over briefly to borrow something when you invited her in for a drink and she caught sight of the picture book on the coffee table.

“Who?” You asked, leaning over to take a look at the photo. “Oh, we weren’t… together.” You interjected, feeling childish for the way you avoided the implication that you and Frankie had ever been a couple at all costs. 

“Really?” She asked, leaning back to quirk an eyebrow at you skeptically. “Try telling him that.” She scoffed, plucking another photo from the binder. It was the two of you at the end of your dock. You were flaunting the tiny ass fish you had caught for the camera as though you had just caught that night’s dinner. But what grabbed your attention wasn’t the goofy look on your face, the ridiculous stance you had adopted, or the fish you were holding cautiously at an arm’s length. It was Frankie, his gaze set unflinchingly on you.

“Really, we were just… friends.” You try to explain, but you’re too distracted by the admiring look in his eyes and lopsided grin at his lips to sound entirely convinced by yourself. 

“All I know is that the way he is looking at you,” she says, prodding a shaky finger at the photograph, “is not how friends look at one another.” She concluded before dropping the subject altogether. 

Sure, it had crossed your mind from time to time. The idea of you and Frankie being together wasn’t all too outlandish. You could see how she might have been confused after all. You got along well, you spent a lot of time together, you cared about him deeply and dare you say you even loved him but- 

You loved him. 

The thought had implanted itself in your mind before you could even process it and suddenly you couldn’t believe what you were admitting. Staring down the snapshot of your former self now, all you could do was wonder why the hell you couldn’t have caught on sooner. Why you couldn’t have turned around in that moment, seen him and had it all snap into place before you managed to fuck it up so royally. Why...Why did you have to fuck it up? Your mind snapped back to the night before you left that summer. You hugged him and you could still feel the lurch in your chest, not unlike the one you were experiencing now, from when his grip on you lingered a few moments longer than usual. 

You were scared.

Scared because you had never done this before. You had never been in love or fallen out of it, and you had convinced yourself the only outcome was heartbreak. Scared because if things went south, you would lose not only the person you had ever loved like that but your best friend too and that was too high a price for you to pay. Scared because you didn’t want to hurt him just because you knew you were too afraid to take the leap. 

Turns out you managed to do that anyway. 

So now, as much as you wanted to- as much as your heart bled for you to march down to his place and bang on his front door until he was forced to open up, you knew you were too late. He was stationed god knows where with a whole new life of his own. You probably couldn’t even get a hold of him now if you tried. So you didn’t. Instead you cleared your throat, took a sip of water and asked Margaret if she had any big plans for the summer. 

You thought you had moved on. Which was why you weren’t looking for him when you attended the very same Margaret’s funeral six years later. You weren’t searching for him when you caught sight of a familiar silhouette a couple meters ahead of you and you certainly weren’t trying to grab his attention when you snatched that trucker’s cap off his head on your way into the church for the service. 

“Really? At a funeral? You’re wearing a suit.” You chided as he whipped around, his hand instinctively going to smooth down his hair as his eyes fell on you. He hesitated a moment, his mouth agape as he took you in. Your immediate assumption was that he didn’t want to see you, that perhaps time alone doesn’t heal all wounds and as much as you had hoped this would be easy, as much as you wished you could fall back into old habits as though nothing had happened, you were different people now. It had been twelve years after all. A wave of panic rose in your chest as you tried to fill the silence. “I didn’t think you owned one of those.” You joked. ‘Sure, tease him more. That’ll help’ you cursed yourself but you were relieved when a soft chuckle escaped him.

“No, I uh, I had to borrow it.” He huffed out. He was sure his cheeks were on fire with the heat that had flooded them all of a sudden. He froze the moment he laid eyes on you. He hadn’t done that in years and suddenly he felt himself being reduced to some teenage crush that made his heart stutter and his palms sweat. “Y- You look good.” He remarked, still feeling out of his element in the ill-fitting suit as he watched you, beautiful as ever, toying with the brim of his hat.

“So do you.” You said, biting back the smile that threatened to break across your face. This clearly wasn’t the place. You wound up sitting together for the rest of the ceremony, dropping by the reception for a moment to pay your respects, then inviting him for a drink at the bar just down the street so you could catch up properly. There was a moment’s pause where you thought he might turn you down. He probably had things to get back to in his limited time back in town and who were you to get in the way of that? But instead he shot you a classic Frankie smile, one you hadn’t seen in a long time, and you wound up reliving memories of summers passed in the dingy leather clad booth for hours.

It was as you emptied out into the parking lot. It was late and you both had places to be in the morning. Perhaps you’d had a bit too much to drink or maybe it was just that magnetic pull you always seemed to feel when you were around him. His head was thrown back in laughter over something you had said and his features, aged slightly from the time that had elapsed but still carrying those undefinably ‘Frankie’ qualities you had fallen in love with in the first place, had been outlined in the dull glow of the orange street light a couple meters away. For one glimmering moment you felt as though you had been handed a second chance. The one you had told yourself it wasn’t possible and that even if it were you were too late. But you had lived through that loss. The one that had paralyzed you with fear and self doubt for so long. You had suffered the aftermath and you had missed him so deeply you felt you were missing a part of yourself. And now he was standing right here in front of you. You weren’t about to let him slip through your fingers again.

“Frankie, I loved you.” You blurted out suddenly only to watch the smile that had been plastered to his face drop in the blink of an eye. ‘Well you sure had a funny way of showing it’ was his immediate thought but he was too stunned to get that out.

“You what?” He asked, not because your words hadn’t reached his ears but because he couldn’t seem to make sense of them. He had spent so long thinking you simply weren’t interested in him. That he wasn’t good enough or that he would always be playing second fiddle to someone else. Someone better suited for you, that you actually felt something for.

“I said I-” 

“No, I heard you.” He clarified but the clip to his tone and that look in his eye told you that you had overstepped. That you had just undone all the progress you’d made over the past couple hours. That this time you wouldn’t be able to rebuild the bridges you had just demolished so carelessly. How was it that he was always the one to suffer for your mistakes?

“Frankie I’m sorry, I never meant-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were firmly planted on your own, a hand splayed against the small of your back, pulling you in towards him. You had to grip his upper arm just to keep yourself from toppling over from the sheer momentum of it all. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears and you were sure the alcohol in your veins wasn’t helping the way your head was spinning but something clicked in your mind. It felt so right being in his arms, so comfortable, safe and familiar like this was the only place you were ever meant to be. You had just about gotten over the shock of it all, your muscles relaxing and your hand coming to cradle the nape of his neck when as quickly as they had arrived his lips were gone. He hovered there a moment, his breath, still heavy with fervor, was fanning over your top lip and his eyes were screwed shut tight as though if he opened them you would have disappeared. He just needed a moment longer before the stage set collapsed. Just a second... but it was already too late.

“Fuck,” He muttered more to himself but it made you shift awkwardly on your feet anyways as he pulled away, straightening back up to his full height. You felt much smaller now as you looked up at him. “Fuck, we shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered out suddenly, eyes pleading when all you wanted was for him to do it again.

“Frankie it’s fine, really, I-“ You went to explain, your fingertips reaching out to lace in his own but he flinched away the moment you made contact, his hand retracting as he stepped back to place some distance between you with a clearing of his throat.

“I should- I should go.” He gulped back, an apologetic look flashing over his features once more before he turned to walk away. You had to choke down the sting at the back of your throat, and bite back your quivering lip as you watched him leave. You weren’t quite sure what you had done wrong but any words in protest seem to catch on their way out. You felt powerless to anything but watch it all unfurl. 

You didn’t sleep that night, thoughts still reeling from the events of that evening. You tossed and turned until sunlight poured through your curtains and you were forced to give up. You weren’t ready to admit to yourself that that was it. That you had already screwed up your second chance, your final chance. Before you were even sure of what you were doing you had the number he had given you last night dialed into your phone, the tone ringing out a few too many times before you heard him finally pick up. “Hey, uh, it’s me. Listen, I just wanted to say that I know last-”

“Hello?” But the voice that came out from the other end of the line was not one that you recognized. It was a woman. You stopped dead in your tracks, your words lodging somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Sorry, I must have the wrong number. Is this Frankie Morales’ phone?” You stammered out, your words struggling to catch up with the thoughts spinning through your mind.

“No, this is the right number. He just stepped into the shower.” The mystery woman explained. “Can I take a message for you?”

“No thats- Can I ask who’s speaking?” You asked. You could already feel tears stinging at your eyes as the pieces started to fall into place. Why he pulled away, why he ran off and left you stunned in the parking lot of a small town bar after the best damn kiss of your entire life. The best damn kiss because it was with him...

“Jeanine,” She said and quite suddenly you felt like an idiot. You hadn’t even considered this outcome. That maybe your second chance wasn’t a chance at all. That you were foolish enough to think someone wouldn’t have smartened up and realized how remarkable he was before you.

“Jeanine…” You weren’t even aware you had repeated the name until it had slipped off your tongue, your voice weak and disbelieving. 

“His fiance.” She confirmed. You had to bite your knuckle to hold back the silent sob threatening to pry its way past your lips, white hot tears now breeching your waterline and streaming freely down your cheeks. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to dislike her. She was perfectly polite- probably perfect for him.  

“Right, of course.” You shake your head, attempting to get your breathing back under control before uttering your next words. You wanted to be mad at him for making you the other woman- for letting you become the other woman. For not telling you. But you couldn’t even manage that. It was your own doing. All you had done was rub salt in old wounds and now you were left with the searing evidence. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll- I’ll call back later.” You lie before hanging up. The line goes dead and the silence that surrounds you now is deafening as you slump back down onto your bed. 

And that was it. The end of something that never even began. You missed your chance. You were too late and now you were the one who would suffer for it. For knowing what his lips tasted like on your own, knowing the completeness you felt in his arms, and knowing you would never be able to feel it again.

[ angstageddon masterlist | Ezra’s arm masterlist ]

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[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 11)

Summary:

 Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary: Eret comes over to meet the family

Chapter word count: 2042

ao3 

Dinner was going well. Of course ideally he’d have preferred if their parents were able to come meet their new friend too but Wilbur was very much old enough to understand the value of money, he knew everything they had was thanks to their parents working these insane hours, and if they were sometimes a little distant when they were home that was okay too. They were just tired.

He didn’t always understand why other families didn’t need to work so hard for their money, he thought it was weird that he hardly got to see his parents and his peers were lucky enough to see them whenever they wanted. It was confusing but it was okay. If he needed stability he had Techno, if he needed comfort he had Phil and if he needed distracting he had Tommy. Their little dynamic worked even if there was a lack of adults.

Eret was good though, unlike other people who would pester them all the time about why they were home alone and sometimes even threaten to call social services -which Wilbur had always been afraid of, he did not want to be split up from his brothers- Eret had simply accepted that this was the way they lived. Eret was good at accepting things; he didn’t pester Techno to talk which is one of the big things that helped Techno start talking to him. Countless times Wil had been confided in about how his brother wished people didn’t make such a big deal about it, how that only added pressure and made it harder when he tried. When Wilbur begrudgingly admitted he couldn’t leave his brother’s side after Eret had asked him to grab something, he accepted that too. He didn’t try to ‘help’ him come out of his shell like so many others had, Wilbur wasn’t even in a shell! He was loud and contributive in class, people just couldn’t seem to understand why he was so scared of leaving Techno. Honestly, he didn’t know if he fully understood either.   Last Thursday, when Eret had asked if they wanted to hang out after school, when he was told they couldn’t because they had an appointment with their therapist, he accepted that too.

Needless to say, the twins became attached easily. Maybe their new friend didn’t always understand their quirks and habits but he didn’t need to, all they had ever wanted was for someone to see them as individuals who didn’t deserve to be judged for existing.

“Eret, gravy on your food?”

A shake of the head answered Phil’s question and the plates were laid on the table, Eret sat between Phil and Techno (since there was no way he was going to sit a new person next to Tommy of all people and he couldn’t exactly split up the twins.) A chorus of ‘thank you’s erupted as everyone sat down, ready to dig into the meal.

“By the way, While you were out Skeppy called. He said he might come over at some point, he had some game he wanted to show you two”

“He sucks. Tell him to stay home” Tommy grumbled through a mouth full of veggies, obviously still bitter over the last time their cousin had visited. He was always bringing games and Tommy rarely won. Unlike Phil, Skeppy didn’t let him win and whenever Skeppy was over, neither Wil nor Techno let him win either. It sucked.

Wil didn’t seem to share the same sentiment about the boy though, swiftly shutting up his brother with a brief yet painless smack to the back of his head. A warning.

“Skeppy’s our cousin, he thinks he’s good at a lot of things but he really isn’t” Techno sniggered as he explained the situation, “He’s fun though, you’ll like him”

The conversation trailed off there, stemming into what everyone had done that day, how they were feeling and a few over excited questions from Tommy, who was eager to try and learn more about his brother’s friend. As always, he was an absolute social butterfly, it made night’s like these easier, he wasn’t sure how things would have gone if Tommy also had issues with new people. The thought made Phil remember to pride himself on his younger brother too, maybe he wasn’t currently conquering a big fear but he was certainly one of, if not the, strongest of the kids Phil knew of; maybe not physically but he doubted most of his peers would have been able to soldier through such a rocky upbringing like Tommy had, such having caring brothers would have helped but objectively Tommy was the one who had lived through that.

Phil was very proud of all his brothers.

Even if they were sometimes a pain.

A sharp elbow to the ribs from Tommy was what brought him back down to earth, he wasn’t sure how long he had been zoned out but the twins were happily chatting with Eret and he didn’t need to worry about Tommy needing any kind of support while talking so he didn’t bother thinking too much about it. He glanced over at his younger brother as if to ask why he had been elbowed.

“Knock at the door” The kid grinned, smile gappy with missing baby teeth.

Nodding, Phil got up to go answer it.

==

The sound of a teenage boy sprinting into the room was the only introduction necessary, the boy in question had fluffy black hair and wore a thick blue jumper. He had some features that were similar to the boys, his hair and smile for example, and he seemed just as hyper as Tommy could be. Techno in particular had noticed how Skeppy could swing from being extremely hyper to basically passing about in the blink of an eye.

Practically throwing himself over Techno, who seemed far less amused than everyone else on the table, the boy whined about how long they were taking to eat. With a soft ‘thud’ he dropped his backpack to the ground and settled for leaning over Techno’s seat as he waited for them to finish.

“Who’s this by the way? I thought you hated new people. Or maybe they aren’t new and you’re just not including me in anything anymore”

He placed a hand on his heart, a theatrical sigh escaped his lips. So dramatic. Techno remembered how this ‘i’m so hurt’ act would work on the other boy they used to play with, he was always more Skeppy’s friend than his friend though, even so it had never worked on him. Maybe he was good at reading people from how much time he spent thinking, maybe he just didn’t care too much about other people’s emotions, either way he supposed it didn’t really matter as long as he wasn’t really hurt.

“Skep!” Wilbur piped up, maybe because he had been quiet for too long, maybe Wilbur was getting concerned that the amount of people surrounding him was overwhelming him, it wasn’t though, Techno was actually quite happy with the current situation but that didn’t change the fact that he’d let Wilbur carry the conversation if he wanted. Being silent was always going to be more comfortable than talking.

“Skep!” Wilbur repeated, grabbing the back of his teal blue hoodie and forcing him to turn around. “This is Eret! We met him at school, he’s cool, they like the same kind of music as me and their parents get her Burger king for lunch”

Wilbur looked very proud of himself that he had remembered to use all of the different pronouns they went by, he’d never met anyone that presented themselves like that before and while it was tricky to adjust to, he’d happily make the effort if that’s what made their new friend happy.

With his wide grin ever present, Skeppy nodded and grabbed Eret by the arm, dragging him to his feet before he could have the chance to protest before mimicking the action with both Wilbur and Techno.

“Finish your food later! You’re taking too long!”

His dark curls shook with mischievous laughter as the trio were dragged behind the admittedly much shorter boy towards the living room.

“Sit here!”

That’s when he disappeared into the kitchen, retrieving his backpack before sitting in front of the couch so all three of them could see what he had brought. Now, Techno wasn’t sure what Eret’s situation was, he appeared to be wealthy but he didn’t want to assume anything, nevertheless, that didn’t change the fact that his own family didn’t really have an abundance of money.

Above all, the goal was to get by and that they did.

So the excitement Techno felt when Skeppy pulled out the newest game on the market was immense. It was expensive. That much was obvious, Techno enjoyed games as much as any other boy his age -maybe even more so- but most of his games were either from the clearance bucket at GameStop or had been gifts from Skeppy. He would never have had a new game released the same day as he bought it.

“I thought it would be fun if we play together. It’s local multiplayer and I have no siblings so I thought maybe I could leave it here and we can play it whenever I come over. Obviously you can play it whenever”

“Dude! That’s so cool!”

Wilbur was already scuttling over to the TV, turning it on and setting up the console before popping in the game.

The four of them played for hours, taking a quick break to scoff the cornflake cakes that Phil and Tommy brought in before getting back to the game. At some point, Phil had gone off to work on his homework, leaving Tommy with the others since he was much too interested in watching his big brother’s play the game than to work on his own homework.

Phil had returned to check on them at around 7pm, ready to call an uber for Eret if he was still there since he didn’t exactly want to send a fairly young boy on a train alone in the dark. What he saw made his heart melt and he found himself regretting leaving his phone in his bedroom.

Skeppy’s head was leant back against the couch, resting on Techno’s knees specifically. Tommy was curled up into a little ball between Techno and Wilbur, who were snuggled up either side of him, and Eret was sprawled out across the remaining section of the couch. All five of the boy’s were asleep, the room only lit by the tv and the only sound being the various gun noises coming from the game.

Being the caring big brother that he was, Phil’s first reaction was to turn off the game, in case the violent noises gave any of them nightmares. Next, on came the light, and finally it was time to wake up the boys.

Honestly he wasn’t too bothered about Skeppy staying overnight since he could message his Aunt easily but he would have no way of contacting Eret’s parent’s so he’d have to be heading home soon. He definitely didn’t want to get himself involved in a missing child’s case all because he didn’t want to wake him up.

With a few grumbles and whined, all the boys except from Tommy -who Phil decided would be easier if they kept asleep- started to wake up. Eret was sent home in an Uber and Skeppy was sent to the guest room but only after Phil made sure he called his Mum to let her know he was staying at their place. The twins were sent to bed too after that, even Techno getting into bed on time, and Phil was assigned to carry the sleeping toddler, otherwise known as Tommy, up to his room.

Overall, today had been stressful, that much he was certain of, through trying to make the evening perfect for their new friend to trying to keep on top of his school work, there had been a lot on his plate, it was all worth it though.

Maybe it was good he had left his phone in his bedroom, maybe sometimes it’s better to remember the feeling than the moment.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Eighteen Candles

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 4,965

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, teenage angst

Tag List: @moonstruckhargrove @hotstuffhargrove @carolimedanvers @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hawkeyeharrington @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon @buckybarneshairpullingkink @marvelismylifffe @baebee35

You’d been excited for weeks, and with good reason. A girl only turned eighteen once. And you were certain that your friends were throwing you a surprise party. How could they not? You’d thrown parties for Tina and Carol on their eighteenths and you were already planning one for Macy in July. They had to do the same for you, they loved you the same.

You’d hardly slept the night before,  your favourite outfit laid out on your chair across from your bed and your alarm set fifteen minutes later than usual as a little gift to yourself. And when that alarm went off, you practically jumped out of bed. You’d never been excited for a school day in your life. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, it was too infectious. It didn’t matter that the sky was grey and cloudy; you’d light up the whole town with your good mood.

“Y/N! Get up! You’re late!” you mother screamed from the bottom of the stairs, she sounded very annoyed. That wasn’t exactly the greeting that you were expecting, but you were technically late, so you didn’t think much of it. You hurried to get ready, humming along to your walkman as you unfurled the curlers from your hair, swiping blush onto your cheeks. You wanted to look your best because it made you feel your best and you refused to not have the best day.

You skipped downstairs, slinging your bag onto your shoulder. Your mother and brother were already at the door, about to head out. She looked you over with a sigh “You’re late, Y/N.”

You shrugged “Sorry, just give me two seconds and we’ll go.” You didn’t have your own car, purely because yours had crapped out a year after you bought it and you couldn’t afford the cost of fixing it. It sat on cinder blocks in your cousin Artie’s car lot, waiting for you to be able to cover the costs of having a specialist fix it. You didn’t necessarily adore being driven around by your mother, but there wasn’t much you could do about it at the moment, and it wasn’t as if she was going out of her way-she dropped off your little brother every day at Hawkins Middle, which were only steps away from Hawkins High.

Your mother sighed violently “No, you’ve already made us late enough. You can walk to school.” She snapped, pushing your brother out the door and into the dreary day, slamming the door behind her.

She didn’t wish you a happy birthday. It stung a little.

But she was mad, you rationalized, she probably just forgot in the heat of the moment, she’d remember later and apologize. For now, you just had to get your act in gear and get to school. You didn’t exactly mind being late today, you considered it a small treat for the week, so you took your time that morning.

But that was a mistake. The second you exited your street the rain came down in buckets. It was as if the heavens opened up to sing a harmonious and angelic ‘fuuuuuck yoooooou’ right onto your head. You didn’t have the time to run back home to get an umbrella or a raincoat, and the walk back wouldn’t be any dryer than the walk to school, even with the coat, so you suffered through every splash from passing cars and sink of your shoes into the mud. By the time you made it to school, you were shivering, your favourite thigh high tights absolutely soaked through and your hair dripping wet.

You practically rushed to your locker, your fingers fumbling over the lock until it clicked and you were able to pull the door open. You knew that you had a brush and a hair band in there, as well as your painter’s jeans from first semester art class, which were your saving graces of the day. You changed fast in the bathroom, just as the bell rang out, signalling the end of homeroom. You smiled to yourself, sure you missed homeroom, but Mr. Dixon’s math class was a bitch and he would’ve given you detention on the spot if you walked in late. Getting an absence on your report card wouldn’t be too terrible, you could explain it away. Missing Mr. Dixon’s class was a blessing.

And luckily, Carol and Tina were coming your way. Things were looking up.

You opened your locker again, grabbing your history textbook from inside before checking your makeup. The rain hadn’t washed everything away, although it had made a mess of your mascara. You used your pinkies to wipe away the goop pooling under your bottom lashes, smiling as it wiped away mostly clean. You wiped your hands on your jeans; it wasn’t as if they had to look nice anyway.

From the magnetic mirror stuck to your locker door, you saw Carol and Tina come up behind you. You turned fast, unable to hide your obvious excitement. But they didn’t look too happy to see you, in fact they both looked downright annoyed.

“Where were you this morning?” Carol snapped angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. She was wearing that lilac turtleneck again with the plum coloured suspenders. She looked like someone’s uncle grew boobs, which you wouldn’t usually go for, but she seemed to like.

“And what are you wearing?” Tina added, looking you over sceptically, her nose for fashion clearly offended by your jeans.

Your hands came to the ends of your wet hair, squeezing them uncomfortably “I woke up late, had to walk.” You explained “I got stuck in the rain and my tights were soaked, I would’ve caught my death if I kept them on and this is all I had to change into.”

Carol rolled her eyes and Tina scoffed loudly “You need to get your car fixed like asap.” She muttered, leaning against the lockers behind her. Tommy came up next to Carol and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the space between her jaw line and the edge of the sweater’s neckline. Behind him, Billy Hargrove stood, arms crossed over his chest, a toothpick clenched between his teeth, looking around the halls with a bored look.

This was a rare appearance.

Billy Hargrove ran in your circle, barely. He associated with them when he needed to or deigned to, so it seemed. He was trying so very hard to seem above everyone in your grade. And maybe, to some of your classmates, it was working; Carol and Tommy thought he was endlessly cool, Tina thought he was the sexiest man in the world. But you didn’t buy it. What you saw when he stood there was a guy staring off into space, trying to look cool, not allowing himself to be vulnerable in the slightest, surrounded by people who would think anything he said was super cool.

“So, what’re your plans for tonight?” you asked the group, trying not to appear too needy or desperate. You had to have a clue as to what they were doing for your birthday, so you could plan.

“It’s a Tuesday, Y/N...I’m gonna study for Dixon’s hell test on Friday.” Carol snapped, looking over her long red nails with utter disdain “Which you would’ve known about if you’d decided to grace up with your presence this morning.”

You stifled a sigh “I told you, I was late-” you tried, but the group had already moved on.

“I can totally help you study, babe,” Tommy said, nuzzling into Carol’s neck “But only if your parents aren’t home.”

Billy rolled his eyes at that comment and you couldn’t help but smirk. Your sentiments exactly. Tina was looking him over with utter lust in her eyes; it was a little embarrassing to watch. Of course, you’d been in her shoes before, although not over Hargrove. To be completely honest, you didn’t get the appeal. Sure, he was very pretty, but his laissez-faire attitude about everything was a bit of a turn off. You needed to know that there was more to him than that and, so far, nothing. He was exactly how he seemed, a very shallow pond with nothing growing at the bottom.

Carol smacked Tommy hard in the ribs “I can handle it myself...” she bit out through gritted teeth. Tommy held up his hands in defeat, backing up slowly.

He looked over to Billy with a smirk, leaning over to him “Fucking chicks, eh?” he joked with a crass chuckle. Carol’s eyes flared angrily, fire flashing behind her dull green eyes. Tina immediately reached out and touched her shoulder, shaking her head with an understanding look. Billy pulled a small smirk, nodding approvingly to Tommy. You had no proof of the meaning behind that look, but you guessed that Tommy had gotten all the affirmation he needed from Billy. He was right to think that women were utterly impossible. On the opposite side, Tina seemed to be telling Carol to ignore him, that he wasn’t worth it.

The bell rang above you, signally the start of your next classes. Tina’s pupils blew out and she let go of Carol, pushing into the still crowded halls “C’mon, Y/N, Crazy Krupke’s pop quiz!” she burst into a sprint down the halls. You stepped away from your locker, offering a feeble wave to the group, all of whom had free period that hour. They weren’t paying attention, but it wasn’t a big deal.

They hadn’t wished you a happy birthday. That stung a bit.

But maybe they were trying to make you think that they forgot so you’d be surprised for your party tonight. That would be smart. Maybe smarter than they were capable of, but you liked to give them the benefit of the doubt. You kept a positive outlook on the situation.

But that was hard to keep. The group abandoned you for lunch, each off in their own direction to bother different people. Tommy dragged Carol along to try to convince Steve Harrington of all people to throw a party for the upcoming break. Tina ran off with Macy to go to a prom committee meeting. And Billy Hargrove, well, you weren’t too focused on where he went. You ate lunch alone in the library, hiding in the shelves to not get caught eating in there, since that was against the rules. But that wasn’t too terrible, you’d done that before, and it was nice to get some of your work done.

But the rest of the day wasn’t any better. The group seemed to be avoiding you all day. They wouldn’t each lunch with you, they wouldn’t talk during class breaks, and Tina sped off after school before even offering you a ride, like she usually did. But all of this fell perfectly into the elaborate plan you’d imagined them making. They couldn’t just be assholes. They weren’t assholes most of the time. You wouldn’t have started hanging out with them if they were.

You got caught in the rain again on your walk to work, which while wasn’t intensely far, was just far enough away to cause you to get absolutely soaked through again. You worked at the local library, which you considered to be a blessing since the place was quiet and most people didn’t bother you. Luckily for you, they even had some leftover fundraiser shirts, which one was easily given to you to wear home. And while you weren’t happy to be working on your birthday, it was nice to just be surrounded by sweet old ladies and quiet, fat babies. It was nice. And your manager, Roberta, cut your shift early, a rare blessing from her. She even lent you an umbrella to walk home with, which you were insanely grateful for, since the rain didn’t seem to stop for you.

The day was really starting to bog you down. You were cold and tired and damp, so very damp. You were going to wake up with a cold in the morning, you just knew it. But it would all be worth it when you walked into your surprise party. You spent your walk home practising your surprised faces, the excitement in the pit of your stomach building as the sun set behind you during your walk, the streetlights slowly turning on during your walk. Turning onto your street, you took a deep breath, looking around the area. You didn’t see Tina or Tommy’s cars parked on the road, but that would be good planning. You made your way up the street, trying not to run or skip, to give them the time to finish any last minute set up.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your way up your driveway, every step faster than the last till you were running up to your front steps, skipping up them till you were at your front door. The warm light from your dining room was pooling out of the window through the shut blinds. The whole house seemed lit up and comforting, as if the house was full again, instead of it just being you and your parents. Your hands fumbled for your keys and you stabbed them into the lock, your hands shaking as you turned the key, pulling open the door and letting the sound of loved ones wishing you a happy birthday.

Except, none came.

You crept slowly into your house, peering around corners to find exactly none of your friends. Your parents were in the dining room, unaware that you’d even arrived, your little brother picking at his food.

Nobody had shown up. Nobody had done anything for you. All your friends were somewhere else, having fun without you. A wave of disappointment washed over you, soaking into your skin and making you sick to your stomach, like heat stroke. Your body felt sticky with sweat, your stomach filled with shame. Why on earth would you think that they would do anything for you? God, you’d gone to them for comfort after your little friend group fell apart. Sure, you, Samantha Baker, Tammy Thompson, and Robin Buckley didn’t have much in common by the end, but losing Barb was just the icing on a crumbling cake. And Carol and Tina, they were there for you, they invited you into their shitty, bitchy little circle with open arms and false smiles. And you trusted them. But they didn’t care about you, they didn’t put in the same work towards your friendship that you did. And that was the thing that broke your heart, that your friends just didn’t care that much.

“Y/N, you’re late come and eat.” Your mother snapped, gesturing to your open chair, food already piled onto your plate. You bit back a sigh, trudging into the dining room and plopping down in your chair.

As if today could guess any worse. Beef Stroganoff. You fucking hated beef stroganoff; it was like someone ate beef and liquid diarreahed it onto some egg noodles. It was salty and terrible. Your mother always made it when she was bored of cooking. Usually, you’d offer to take over for the night to give her a break. You make pizza or spaghetti and meatballs and your mother would take a nap. It was a win-win. But working on a weekday proved to be your failure.

You pushed the food around your plate, waiting for something-someone to ask about your day, to crack a joke, god to fucking wish you happy birthday. But nothing. Everyone just ate in silence. It was crushing.

Your mother broke the silence with an aggravated sigh “Y/N, can you please just eat? You’re setting a bad example for your brother.”

“I’m really not in the mood for beef stroganoff...” you replied, letting out a sharp breath through your nose.

Your mother clicked her tongue angrily “I have had a very bad day, Y/N, can you please not make it worse?” she asked, obviously annoyed.

That was it. That was your breaking point. You dropped your fork on the table, looking up to finally meet her eye. “Oh, you’ve had a bad day?” you asked, your lips curling into a sneer “You?”

“Don’t take that tone with your mother.” Your father said boredly, not bothering to even acknowledge the scene.

That didn’t stop you, you were too mad. “It’s my fucking birthday.” Recognition filled your mother’s eyes as her mouth opened slightly.

You pressed on “It’s my god damn eighteenth birthday and nobody remembered. You forgot, he forgot, dork breath over here forgot. Everybody fucking forgot. My friends forgot. And the universe decided to shit on me too, I got rained on all day-I’m freezing still from the walk TO school.   My friends ignored me, you ignored me, everyone at work ignored me and all I wanted to do when I came home was hear ‘happy birthday, Y/N’ it’s all I fucking wanted. So, no, I don’t wanna eat beef stroganoff and hear about your bad day, because it cannot top mine.”

“Y/N, apologize to your mother.” Your father snapped. Your mother was still in shock, but your father seemed to have caught on to the situation and was fuming. You didn’t care. You knew no matter what happened, you were going to get your ass beat later, but for now you had an ounce of power.

You pushed yourself out of the chair, standing up and stalking to the doorway “Fuck this shit.” You snapped back, shoving your shoes into your feet and marching outside, slamming the door behind you.

You didn’t exactly know where you were going, but out was better than in the house, so you started the walk down to the Hawkins woods. Maybe you’d get eaten by a wolf or kidnapped like that Byers kid.  That would really be perfect. Then you could disappear and they’d regret it.

You hiked up to the quarry in peaceful silence. The rain had finally stopped and everything smelt like wet grass and pine wood. It had gotten significantly darker, but you weren’t afraid of it, you welcomed the danger those woods could offer. Sitting by that little pool of murky, gross water, you felt calm again. Everything was still fucked up, but sitting alone made it easier. You let the tears brimming in your eyes finally spill out, small sobs breaking through your throat.

You didn’t sense the headlights coming up behind you till you heard the car stop. You jumped to your feet, still crying, as you threw up your dukes. You couldn’t imagine how insane you looked, face streaked with mascara, red and blotchy from crying, ready to fight. The driver’s side door creaked open and you heard the sound of the driver’s shoes before you saw them. Lit from the front, the annoyed and bewildered Billy Hargrove flicked a cigarette at your feet.

“What cha doing out here, Y/N?” he asked in an almost sing-song tone. You dropped your fists, groaning loudly towards the sky.

“Just trying to enjoy some alone time here.” You sighed. Billy sauntered up to you, looking you up and down with a sly expression.

“You’ve been crying.” He hummed.

“What’s it to ya?” you shot back. Billy wrapped an arm around your shoulders, which was unexpected but you didn’t exactly pull away, if only because he was so warm and you still were freezing. He led you over to his car and gestured for you to sit down on the hood. You did so and Billy followed.

“Alright, what happened?” he asked, looking over the quarry.

You furrowed your brow “Since when do you care?”

Billy shrugged “I’m bored. You gonna tell me or what?”

You sighed, closing your eyes slightly “Everyone forgot my birthday.”

Billy nodded “Yeah, I could tell you were waiting for them to say something this morning, couldn’t figure out what but that-that makes sense.” You took in a hard, shaky breath, wrapping your arms around your stomach to anchor yourself. “Your parents too?” you nodded. Billy chuckled darkly, shaking his head with this look of silent understanding that you found both distressing and oddly comforting. “But I mean why didn’t you mention it to them?”

“What? And look like a desperate loser?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and begging for tears not to fall from them.

“So, instead, you sat around and got upset?” Billy asked. You felt his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you refused to look at him.

“Look, I never said it was logical.” You huffed dramatically. Billy chuckled; pulling his pack out of his pocket, sliding a cigarette between his teeth and flicking open his lighter.

Billy chuckled before hopping off the hood. Without a word, he slid off the hood and sauntered over to his still ajar door. You kept your eyes on the water in the quarry and silently prayed that Billy didn’t try to drive off with you still on the hood. He came back though, to your relief, and took his seat next to you.

He handed you a sealed plastic bag, which you took sceptically. You examined it in dim light from below you. Sour gummy worms. You turned to Billy with a curious look “Secret sweet tooth?” you asked, pulling open the thick plastic and taking a worm out carefully, dropping it into your mouth.

Billy scoffed “Max left them in my car.” His voice cracked on the end. You weren’t certain, but you had a hunch that he was lying. You shrugged it off though, offering the bag to him. He grabbed about three from the bag, shoving them all into his mouth and proving your theory on the sugar thing.

“Well, thanks,” you sighed softly, dropping your head into your hands “Guess this is all I’m getting for my birthday...”

“Don’t give up hope on ‘em.” Billy grumbled, digging his fist into the bag once again, pulling out more of the candy and shoving it into his gaping maw. He’d given up on the cigarette, tossing it into the mud to burn out in the damp sand.

You sighed bitterly “But its so easy to...I mean if I just say that they suck then I don’t have to have any expectations for them again.”

Billy shrugged “Having less expectations is good, makes for more surprises.”

You chuckled “Oh yeah? Like what?” it was a leading question and you knew it, but you wanted to see what Billy was going to pull out of his ass to impress you. You weren’t surprised when he grabbed your chin and pressed his lips to yours. What was surprising was that it wasn’t the aggressive, attention grabbing, tongue filled kiss he’d usually pull with other girls. He was soft and careful; he held your face like it was something precious and his lips brushed your delicately. It was nice, his lips tasted like sour sugar from the candies with a hint of Vaseline, which you assumed was some sort of ChapStick. You weren’t surprised that Billy took care of his appearance, although it was a bit of a treat to kiss a boy whose lips weren’t sandpaper against yours.

You pulled away first with a smirk, which Billy didn’t share. He looked...surprised? Confused maybe, the look was one of sheer confliction. You didn’t question it. And when he offered to drive you home, you let him, sitting in the cigarette perfumed interior and letting him blast Slayer into your ears until you were sure that they’d bleed. He dropped you off without a word, leaving you feeling about as confused as he looked. You headed inside to face the worst of the wrath from your parents with your head held high.

To your surprise, they weren’t waiting for you. You’d been given the blessing to creep upstairs and go to bed. But before you could turn off your light and try your best to fall asleep, the door cracked open, your mother on the other end. Wordlessly, she stepped in, taking a seat on the end of your bed.

“Your father isn’t too pleased with you.” She said softly. Your little brother’s room was next to yours, connected by a wall. You sat up a bit in bed, not pretending to feel guilty for your actions. You opened your mother to defend yourself, but your mother cut in again “I don’t need you to say anything, I understand.”

That was not what you expected. Maybe the whole have fewer expectations thing really could work. She continued “I’m sorry we forgot sweetie, I really am. I know this one was a big milestone birthday and I feel awful that we didn’t remember. I know you know things have been really hectic around here, with your father starting a new job, and I want you to know that we’re very appreciative of what you do to help. And to show that, we’re just gonna pay to get your car fixed, okay?”

Your whole face lit up. Car payments weren’t even on the table for gifts, you were certain it was too expensive. “Really?” you asked softly, unsure if your mother was joking or not.

She grinned “Really. No more walking in the rain.” You burst out of bed, wrapping her in a giant hug. Your mother laughed, returning it with equal fervour. It was nice, a small bit of bonding with your mother, something that rarely happened anymore. You went to sleep peacefully that night.

You weren’t expecting anything when you went into school the next day. It was a Friday; everyone was focused on getting through the day to make it to the weekend. You were no exception. You were finally getting your car back; your father had gone to pay for the tow truck and the mechanic’s shop to fix the damn thing that morning. Anything else was tertiary.

But, to your shock, a large group of kids were standing around your locker. It wasn’t anywhere near the size of your graduating class, but it was at least fifteen kids. Carol, Tina, and Macy stood in the front. Tina had a cupcake in her hands as Macy struggled to get a lighter to work to light the big pink candle in the centre of the thick, green icing. You spotted Tommy, grumbling in the back, arms crossed tightly over his argyle sweater. He had a huge black eye that spread over his right cheekbone and eyebrow.  Samantha was in the back as well, with a smirk pulled on her black lips. Tammy Thompson and Robin Buckley were tittering between themselves behind Carol, who angrily shushed them.

You walked up to the group tentatively. All at once, the group screamed “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” the group started into the birthday song, everyone off key and cringing as they realized just how long the song really was. Macy lit the candle and Tina held out the sickly sweet looking treat to you. You took it awkwardly, blowing out the candle and holding it up with a nod. The group dispersed almost immediately.

“My birthday was yesterday…” you said to the remaining group. Carol and Tina looked between one another awkwardly. They seemed shocked by the information.

“We know!” Macy blurted. Carol and Tina snapped their heads around to look at her, nodding for her to go on with an excited, desperate expression. “We wanted to surprise you and this seemed like the best way to do it!”

Tina nodded fast “Exactly! We wouldn’t forget.”

You smirked, nodding slowly as you looked around the hallway. When you spotted Billy hiding behind the wall of lockers, trying to look casual, you smiled. Without a word, you left the group in the dust, marching over to Billy. He met your eye as you stepped up to him. You held out the cupcake “You want this?” you asked.

Billy raised an eyebrow quizzically “It’s your weird birthday thing.” He replied, trying to sound bored.

You shrugged “I don’t want it.” Billy paused before taking it, practically ripping the wrapper off.

You chuckled “How on earth do you keep your arms while devouring that sugary shit?” you asked as he took a monstrous bite, bright green icing sticking to the tip of his nose.

“I work out.” His mouth was far too full for his words to be understood. You cringed at the sight of mushed food in his mouth. Billy closed his mouth fast, swallowing hard. “Sorry…” he mumbled.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You replied.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean that…scene. You didn’t have to do that.” You scuffed your shoes on the dirty linoleum. In truth, the scene was slightly embarrassing. A half assed surprise with a cheap grocery store cupcake and awkward singing. It had made you want to run away, but of course it was obviously for you, so you’d had to stay.

Billy shrugged “You were upset, didn’t bother me to beat up Tommy about it.”

“Since when do you care?” you asked genuinely. Billy barely paid attention to anything, much less you. You didn’t think that he even liked you till last night.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the only decent person in that group.” Billy replied simply, pushing himself off the lockers.

“Thanks?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Billy chuckled “You’re welcome.” The warning bell for first period rang out from above you. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.” Billy never offered to walk anyone anywhere. You took the walk without question. You were trying not to have any expectations anymore, why have any about Billy? You just decided to enjoy the company and silence and try to not obvious want more.

[geniuscloud]

Only The Lonely Survive- ATEEZ (Yeosang)

I’m actually kind of proud of this one, so hopefully it’s good! I didn't edit it though, so be warned. Thanks for reading! I really enjoyed writing this.

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Yeosang X Reader (Fem!)

Private School AU

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of mature themes. Mild bullying.

Word Count: 4.8K

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“Um excuse me, are you okay? Class ended 15 minutes ago.”

I was startled awake by the voice of a classmate, who lightly shook my shoulder to wake me from my sleep. The panic in my face began to settle as I quickly scanned around the room, all the desks were completely empty and the only people left were the girl and myself.  

“Holy shit, what time is it?”

“It’s 12:16, it’s lunch break right now. You were out cold, do you want me to walk you to the nurses office?” she replied. She was short, extremely long dark hair and big glasses framed her face. Wendy, the shy girl who hardly spoke to anyone, but definitely one of the most caring people in our grade.  

“No it’s okay, thanks Wendy. I just was working really late last night, I guess I dozed off because I didn’t get much sleep. Thanks for waking me up, I need to put up my flyers before class starts again.” I quickly collected my bag, giving her a small smile before rushing out of the classroom and into the hall. I had less than 45 minutes to hang my tutoring flyers, plus I had to get to my locker, eat and get to my next class on the other side of the building. I tried to work as fast as possible and was able to get it done within 20 minutes, giving me some time to spare to refuel my energy with food.

“Hey poverty, move. You’re in the way of my locker.”  

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes before spinning around to see who belonged to the voice, “Natalie, nice to see you haven’t changed a bit over the holidays...”

“Nice to see that you’re still poor. Cute sweater by the way, where did you get it? Walmart? Or is that still too expensive for you?”

“Can’t you learn to shut up for once in your life?”

“Can’t you learn that you’re not welcome here? It’s a private academy for the privileged, not for scholarship riding wannabes,” she smirked.

“Nat leave her alone,” a deeper voice spoke behind her. Natalie's eyes widened a little before spinning around on her heels, coming face to face with the guy behind her.

“Sangie, I'm just being honest.”

“Actually you’re being a bitch, do you mind?” he said, titling his head to the side trying to signal for her to leave.

“Here, why don’t you take a flyer on your way out. All that fake tanning must be melting your brain a little, I can help with that,” I smiled while passing her a flyer. Her eyebrows furrowed in response, quickly stomping off without the flyer. Suddenly the paper that laid in my hand lazily was pulled from my grasp as Yeosang studied it.

“You’re doing tutoring?”

“Yeah, I thought about making some extra money to help my parents out. Do you know anyone who might need it?”

“I’m not failing, but I could always use some help getting a little higher grades. Count me in, when can we start?” he smiled.

“We can start after school if you’re not busy? All tutoring sessions will be 90-120 minutes maximum after school because I have to work at 6:30pm most weekdays.”

“Cool, here’s my number. Text me when you find a meeting spot and I'll meet you there,” he shot a quick wink in response before he slung his backpack over his shoulder once again. There was a weird skip of a beat in my heart as my eyes followed his back down the hall. I put my hands to my cheeks, feeling them heat up slightly before I rested my forehead on my locker. Yeosang really was as attractive as everyone had gushed about. His eyes were definitely the first thing anyone noticed about him, and that jawline? My God, you could cut diamonds with that thing.

The rest of the day went by so slowly and the anticipation of getting to study with Yeosang for some reason made me excited but nervous. He was so popular and so attractive, and usually I would stay away from everyone in this school, because most people were snobby due to their social background. Though from what I could tell, he seemed very nice. I’ve never heard anything bad about him, and he definitely wasn’t the stereotypical popular jerk. The final bell rang, and I almost sprinted out of the class and to my locker, quickly grabbing my stuff before running to the washroom. I did a quick check of my makeup, and brushed my hair. I honestly don’t know why I felt some kind of pressure to look good; I was just helping him study!?

I found my way to the quiet section of the library. The walls were lined from the roof to the floor with books, and the old hand carved wood gave the most elegant and antique look. It looked like a scene from a fairy tale had come to life. I sat down at the one table in the far back and let Yeosang know where I was. I felt a knot in my stomach grow from the nerves, and sat patiently for him. What if he doesn’t show up? What if he was just trying to make a fool out of me and waste my time? My palms began to sweat a little, and I rubbed them on my black skinny jeans.  

“Y/N?” I looked up from the table, trying to hide the anxiety clearly written on my face.

“Yeosang, hey. I’m glad you showed up.”

“Sorry I took so long, I can to call my parents and let them know I was going to be home later, and then I went down the wrong hall and had to loop back,” he smiled while getting his backpack down beside him and he slid into the seat beside me.

“Okay, well let’s get started. What classes do you need help with?”

“Currently my lowest mark is History, I'm pretty bad at memorizing dates.”

“Okay, well let’s start on that, I'm assuming you’re around chapter 5-6 right now?”

_________________

Soon enough, the hour turned into three, and the light from the sky had completely drained into pitch black. Our time studying was mixed with work and casual chatting, hearing stories about his life and his unfortunate and short-lived relationship with Natalie. I felt extremely comfortable with him, sharing some stories about my childhood as well. We were very different, but it was enjoyable.  

“Hey Y/N, do you mind if I ask you a question? It’s okay if you don’t answer me.”

“Sure, go ahead.”  

He looked around a little before facing me again, “Why are you always alone? I see you often, but you never are with anyone or talking to anyone?”  

I deep a deep breath before leaning forward over the table, “I’m not going to lie. A lot of people look down on me because the only reason I can attend this school is because of a scholarship. My grades are so high I was offered a scholarship as long as I keep my grades up. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here, and everyone knows that. This academy is extremely expensive, and no regular folk can just attend this school unless you’re super rich. You see everyone here wearing Gucci clothes and driving nice cars, while I'm a ‘order this cute sweater online because it’s on sale and public transportation’ kind of girl.”

“That’s pretty shallow of others, I think you’re pretty fantastic regardless,” he smiled. I laughed a little before drawing my attention back to the book, continuing to write down some information from the textbook for him. “Wow it sure is getting dark, it’s also starting to snow,” he said gazing out of the window.

“Holy crap, what time is it?”

“It’s 5:44 pm, we’ve been studying for almost 3 hours now. That’s crazy?”

“Oh my God, I have to go. I have work at 6:30!” I shrieked while quickly packing my stuff, “We were supposed to be done an hour ago!”

“I’m sorry I distracted you, how about I walk you to work it’s dark out anyways. I’d rather you get there safe,” he suggested while packing his stuff as well.

“You really don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, please, let me walk you to work.” I nodded shyly while putting on my jacket and getting ready to leave with Yeosang beside me. His black padded jacket went down to his knees, and he wrapped a scarf around his neck before turning around to face me. My jacket was zipped up as high as it could go, no scarf, hat, or gloves. “Did you not bring anything but your jacket?”

“I did, but I left my scarf on the public bus, so it’s long gone.”

“Do you want to use mine?”

“Nah, I don’t want you to be cold.” He just lightly laughed before grabbing my hand and spinning me around to face him. His eyes stared into mine as he unwrapped the scarf and put it around me. My breathing slowed down slightly as he kept eye contact with me, neatly wrapping the scarf until my mouth was hidden from the bitter cold.

“I’m not letting you get cold, we can’t let your head freeze if you’re going to be tutoring people.”

“Um, thank you..” I was so glad the scarf was hiding my cheeks, because they were bright red by now. He tucked his hands into his pocket and we started walking down towards the convenience store where I worked evenings occasionally. The walk was silent for the most part, he occasionally asked me a few questions and we continued our conversation from earlier. Surprisingly I was really comfortable around him, he seemed so genuinely kind and interested in getting to know me. The walk was quick, and a little part of me wished we could have done this longer.  

“Yeosang, thanks for walking me to work and lending me your scarf. I had a good time studying with you. Here let me give you this back,” I said removing the scarf.

“Won’t you need it on your way home?”

“No, my mom is going to pick me up after work, so please take it back.”

“Okay, and I should probably pay you for the session now, right? The flyer said $15 an hour?” he mumbled grabbing his wallet out, “I only have a $50 so you can accept a $5 tip, right?”

“Nah, for you the first session is free. Plus I had a lot of fun hanging out with you, and you lent me your scarf. Anyways, I should get to work, I'll see you at our next session. Have a good night Yeosang...”  

“You too Y/N, text me when you get home so I know you’re safe,” he smiled while wrapping the beige scarf around his face. The color contrasted with his dark brown hair which was still perfect even though the light wind caused a few flyway's to appear every once in awhile. I nodded slightly as he turned away, walking across the street and disappearing through the park. There it was again, the skip in my heart beat returned as I watched him leave for the second time.

__________________

A few weeks had passed since our first study session. He started attending our tutoring sessions three times a week, forcing me to reduce the price because it felt like he was trying to pay me to hang out with him more than anything. I also started tutoring a few other students during lunch or after school on other days. Our tutoring relationship started turning into a real friendship, and I had to learn to control my heart around him. I started seeing him more often, hanging out with him and his friends during lunch sometimes as well. After attending this academy on my scholarship for 2 years, I finally felt like I made a real friend. There were so many shallow people in this school, but I quickly discovered that some of the other students here weren’t so bad after all, and not everyone was ready to cause me emotional distress just because of my money situation.  

“Y/N, you’re joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” Mingi asked, one of Yeosang’s friends who happened to sit behind me in my chemistry class.  

“Yeah sure, are we meeting in the cafeteria like usual?”

“Yup. I’ll text the boys and let them know.” Mingi was a special guy, very tall and athletic looking, but very sweet and almost childlike. I used to avoid him because I thought he’d be very cold, but in reality he was a big sweet heart who was scared of bugs. Besides Yeosang, Mingi was definitely who I was closest with out of the group.

‘Hey, can we meet after school in the library? I know we don’t have a tutoring session today, but it’s important.’ The message lit up my phone screen, seeing Yeosangs ID show up.

‘Yeah, I'm not busy today. We can meet up for a bit,’ I replied back.  

Soon enough the bell rang, and I headed to the library, our designated meet up spot. I saw him sitting on the edge of the table, a little white bag beside him and his phone in his hand.

“Sang, what’s up?”

“Hey Y/N, sorry to bother you on your day off. I just had something I wanted to give you. It’s a thank you gift for tutoring me even though you keep refusing my money, and also a little thanks for being my friend.” I stopped in my tracks, pursing my lips together slightly before letting my head tilt sideways in confusion.

“You got me a gift?” I asked puzzled.

“Yeah, I remember you needed one, and with it getting cold I thought you might need it,” he smiled while passing the bag to me. I’ll admit, I was interested in knowing what he had boughten me and so I accepted it. My eyes were still squinted with curiosity and disbelief as I kept panning from the bag to his face. After removing the tissue paper, I saw the soft navy pattern fabric neatly folded in the bag.  

“You got me a scarf?”

“Yeah, there’s also a little matching hair bow. I remember you said you lost your other one on the bus a few weeks ago and I heard we’re supposed to get another snow storm soon. I wanted to make sure you were warm.” I pulled the scarf out and examined it, it looked like a washed-out charcoal navy color with geometric white and red lines. The fabric was so soft and warm, I couldn’t believe I could like a scarf this much. It looked like a darker version of the beige scarf he had lent me a few weeks ago. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you Yeosang. You really didn’t have to get me anything! I could have gotten one for myself a little later on.”

“Nah, this was nothing. Wait until your birthday, that’s when I really pull out all the stops for my friends,” he said while flashing a bright smile. I couldn’t help but smile back while I rolled my eyes playfully. He then got to his feet and grabbed the scarf from my hands, gently wrapping it around me once again, just like he did the first time. His hands lingered a little as they dragged down the brown fabric of my long jacket, sliding his fingers down the opening where the buttons were sown. His grip never let go, and I felt a little tug causing me to shuffle closer to him a bit. His other hand slid the scarf that was over my mouth down, just barely revealing my lips. I felt the air from my lungs escape all in one go, as if someone had just stepped on my lungs. His eyes were no longer locked into my own, but instead had focused his attention on my lips. My knees felt weak as I tried to make sense of the situation. Maybe I had some food on my mouth that I hadn’t noticed for the last 3 hours while I was in class?  

“Y/N may I ki-”

“Excuse me you two, the library is actually closed for the evening,” a voice said interrupting us. Our eyes quickly snapped towards the librarian who stood to the side with he arms crossed. I took the opportunity to slip away from Yeosang’s grasp and apologize while leaving quickly. Did he just ask me if he could...? Did that really just happen? Yeosang tried to catch up with me, but I ducked through a couple hallways and disappeared out of sight.

_______________________

The next morning I felt emotionally and mentally exhausted. I ignored the handful of texts Yeosang sent asking if I was okay, if he had done something wrong, and if I made it home safe. I didn’t want the police busting down my door because he thought I had gone missing, so I had sent a little thumbs up just so he knew I was still alive. I felt odd, because a part of me really wanted to kiss him, but the other part of me just wouldn’t let him. I've been alone for so long, and I’m still a little too afraid to let people in my life; since only the lonely survive.  

I peeled myself out of bed and into the shower to try and wake myself up. The weather was dreadful, the type of damp-cold that stuck to your bones after going inside. I settled on a pair of black comfy jeans, and a large knit sweater to keep me warm. A little part of me wanted to still try to look cute, knowing I was going to have to face Yeosang and the rest of the boys today at some point. After applying makeup, I sat on my bed and stared at the little white bag in the corner.  

“He did buy it for me, and I might as well use it” I sighed. I quickly pinned up my hair and slid the hairbow in to secure it. I still had no idea why I was trying to look cute when I literally was an emotional mess on the inside. I will admit that the walk to school was much warmer than usual. I had a few people look at me as I walked through the halls towards my locker, and it felt a little strange having people actually look at me. What I thought would be a peaceful morning turned south as soon as I heard the nauseating voice of Natalie tell me to move out of the way from our lockers which were unfortunately side by side.  

“Wow poverty, what student did you steal that scarf from?” she mocked.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not a fool, I know brand name when I see it. I know there is no way you bought a $900 Burberry scarf by yourself. What? Did you steal it?”

“I’m sorry, what? $900 scarf?” I asked, puzzled while searching the ends of my scarf. Low and behold, there was a small ‘Burberry’ tag sown on the ending of the scarf.  

“Cough it up, how’d you get that? Wait a matching bow too? What the hell, did you get yourself a sugar daddy or something?!” I could hardly believe my ears, and I felt pressure begin to bubble in my chest.

“Y-Yeosang bought this for me...” I mumbled out.

“What the hell? I knew your so-called tutoring sessions were bullshit. Oh my God, are you hoeing around so you can fit in?” she smirked, her face falling into pure amusement, “Holy shit you are. You’re Yeosang’s play toy aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?! We literally meet in the library!” I yelled.

“You are not helping yourself. A quiet library like that, you could easily slip under the table unnoticed. Holy shit, I can’t wait to tell everyone what you’ve been doing. If you thought your reputation couldn’t get any worse, wait until this spreads around. You’re going to be so embarrassed that you’ll be begging to leave this school.”

“Natalie, can you stop harassing her!?” a somewhat deeper voice yelled. My eyes instantly fell on the small group of boys behind us. San was angry, his lips now pursed after yelling at her and had his hands balled up in fists, standing a little bit in front of Yeosang and Yunho.  

“Are you really hoeing around with all of them?” she said with her mouth agape in amusement, “this is rich.” Natalie pushed passed me and walked off down the hall.

“Hey are you okay?” Yeosang asked, grabbing my arm.

“No, t-this... I can’t do this. Why did you do it?” I asked, my voice beginning to crack as the tears started to spill down my cheeks.

“What did I do?”

“Why would you buy me a $900 scarf!? You know how I feel about money!?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think much of it. I just thought tha-”

“That’s right! You don’t think much about anything. You just throw your money around like it’s nothing!  Natalie is now telling everyone that I'm a prostitute, and that I'm your sick little play toy. I’m not a charity case that you can just invest a bunch of money into!” I yelled.

“That’s not what I meant, I just wanted to get you a gift! I wanted to get you something brand name because I knew you’d never do something like that for yourself!”

“What? Just because I don’t value brand name the same as you? Tell me honestly, are you embarrassed to be friends with me because my family doesn’t have money?”

“Are you crazy?! I don’t care that you’re not rich, I just wanted to get you a fucking gift! You’re blowing everything out of proportion. I didn’t say or even insinuate any of these things!” he started to argue back. San and Yunho took a step back, hearing San try to stop our fight.

“Then why the hell did you buy me gifts huh?!”

“Because I like you, okay?! I wanted to give you gifts because I wanted to prove that I could be a good potential boyfriend, and show my affection! That’s also why I tried to kiss you, are you happy now?”  

My heart sunk and I took a step back. He just admitted his feelings, but also expressed that he was trying to woo me with his money. To him I was just like the rest of these prissy girls in my school who expected to be treated like a queen and want expensive gifts.  

“I’m not for sale you asshole,” I spat. His furrowed expression fell as I shoved past him. For the first time in years, I skipped school and went home.  

___________________________

The weekend had given me time to recover, but the amount of texts and call I got from the boys kept reminding me of the memories I didn’t want. Maybe I was overreacting, since he did have good intentions. I just couldn’t help but feel dirty, and sick to my stomach. I was no better than Natalie, the obnoxious and self-absorbed drama queen. I don’t know what to expect when I go to school, but if Natalie has told everyone the rumors I'm going to be a walking punchline.  

I could hardly drag myself out of bed and into some clean clothes. I decided against a shower and makeup, settling on washing my face and leaving my hair down. I just didn’t have the power to put effort into my appearance, especially when I might be crying everything off anyways.  

The walk to school was torturous, but luckily the weather wasn’t bad. The snow for the most part has gone, but it was still a little chilly. I dragged my feet against the concrete, the lull of emotions evident on my face as I entered school for the first time in 4 days.  

“Hey,” someone muttered to me as I struggled with the lock on my locker. I was expecting the bitchy tone I hear every morning, but to my surprise she seemed rather calm. I almost didn’t believe it was her. “You look like shit...”

“Thanks,” I grumbled.

“Are you okay?”

“Why the hell do you care? Four days ago you were ready to ruin my life and now you’re expressing some kind of concern?”

“Listen here Pove- I mean Y/N... I just wanted to apologize for what happened on Friday. As much as I don’t like you, I took it too far. I know how it feels to be threatened like that because it’s happened to me as well. That’s actually kind of the reason I came to this school anyways, because I was running away from a rumor at my old school. I shouldn’t have done that to you, and just so you know I never told anyone,” she confessed. I was utterly stunned by the words coming out of her mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I still hate you and want you to leave because you don’t belong, but I wanted to apologize for this. I’ll try to not being such a raging bitch to you all the time. Your face still makes me want to vomit, but I'll try to ignore you from now on as much as I can.”

“Um, thanks I guess. I’ll try to ignore you as well?”  

She shrugged a little before carrying on with her day as I finally got the lock open. Within a matter of seconds dozens of papers came flying out of my locker, spilling all over the floor and my feet.  

“Great, someone else has a problem with me...” I sighed, picking up the papers. They were notes, the same hand writing in black ink had my name written on the front of them. I knit my eyebrows together in confusion while struggling to open one.

‘You are the best person I’ve ever met.’

‘I miss you.’

‘I love the way you laugh.’

‘You are make me lovely.’

‘You are all the colors at once, in full brightness... -All The Bright Places, by Jennifer Niven. Yes I read your favorite book.’

The only thing that was consistent with every note was Yeosang’s signature on the bottom of each note. I choked up a little bit, as I began to fill the small pocket of my bag with the notes.  

‘Please meet me at the library during lunch’ I texted Yeosang.  

_______________________

I sat at the table in the library, anxiously playing the the hem of my shirt. I needed to apologize to yeosang for lashing out like that, but he might not be willing to accept my apology. He did confess his feelings for me, and I straight up just squashed him without any remorse or thought about how he feels.  

“Y/N, are you here?” his voice whispered from around the corner.

“Yeah I'm here.”

“Um, thanks for texting me. What made you change your mind and come see me?”

“Your letters actually, and the fact that Natalie apologized to me. If she can admit she did something wrong, I can as well. I really overreacted, you were just trying to be sweet and I completely blew up in your face. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for not being considerate of how you felt, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just what I'm used to. I grew up with the norm that you buy the people who you care about expensive gifts and you show that you cherish them.”

“I know, I should have tried to be more level headed and understanding about it. The truth is, when you told me you liked me, my heart stopped for a second. I’ve wanted to hear you say that from the first day that we hung out, and I completely ruined it. I really like you too Yeosang, and I hope I didn’t ruin our chances; because I really wanted to kiss you that night... Hell, I really WANT to kiss you,” I admitted.

“I really want to forgive you and be done with it, but I also kind of want to make you suffer for crushing my heart,” he laughed.

“Yeah... I deserve that.”

“You do, but I don’t think my heart can let me. As much as I want to tease you, a bigger part of me wants to kiss you as well.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” I smiled, stepping a little closer to him, craning my neck upwards to face him.

“I need your permission, because once I kiss you I don’t want to stop. I want to kiss you as much as possible every day. I want you to be mine as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then you’re allowed to kiss me.”

His hands found themselves in the small of my back, pulling me even closer before pressing his lips to mine. He was everything I found myself falling for, he was perfectly lovely in every way. Absolutely lovely.

[vane-ruby]

Uncle Sin

A little late on posting even though I was done. Sorry about that. This is for @magibb Enjoy!

Rated: T Pairing: Sinja [SinbadXJafar] Summary:  All this time Jafar believed Sinbad was just an egotistical playboy. Until he brought a surprise to the office. WC: 6187

Sinbad was many things. A flirt, womanizer, manipulator, alcoholic. Well this was all Jafar listed himself since he knew the man. But he was a damn good worker in the office and is probably the only reason this company was still running. Not that he’d admit it out loud. Egotistical was another word he forgot to add to the list. The biggest annoyance he had against Sinbad was for some damn reason, he wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Hey Jafar!”

Jafar groaned walking faster. It was time to go home and he was actually getting out on time for once. Now that he thought about it, that was weird. He usually had to stay behind after hours to finish up work Sinbad would do last minute.

“Hey, I was calling you!” Sinbad caught up placing a hand on Jafar’s shoulder. He never respected personal space! “You doing anything-?”

“No.” Jafar shrugged off the other’s hand. If it was only that easy to make Sinbad go away.

“So…You’re free then?” Sinbad continued being persistent smiling at Jafar.

“Yes, but I’m not doing anything with you.” He clarified. Maybe he should try to file for sexual harassment. If only his pride would let him.

“Oh come on. You should at least give me chance. I know of a nice little restaurant we can go to.” Sinbad’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. He quickly took it out reading what Jafar’s assumed was a text message. “Guess I’ll have to reschedule our date.”

“I never agreed.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jafar.” He winked before sprinting out of the building.

Jafar couldn’t help but be curious. What would make Sinbad actually run out like that?

“He’s been acting weird for awhile now hasn’t he?” Hinahoho commented coming out of his office locking it.

“Has he?”

“I would think you’d notice the most. You’re always around him.”

“More like he won’t leave me alone.” Jafar huffed as Hinahoho laughed.

“Well let’s see. He’s been doing all his work on time,” he began counting with his fingers. “he no longer stays late unless we really need him, hardly goes out on business trips anymore, and he barely goes out for a drink now. And when he does he doesn’t stay as late nor does he invite anyone home.”

Now that really was weird. Now that he thought about it Sinbad was more…assertive lately. “Maybe he’s finally maturing.”

“Weird time to start.” Jafar couldn’t help but think the other was just upset because Sinbad was his drinking buddy. “This started about five months ago when he was suddenly gone for a week.”

“I wonder if something major happened during that time then.” It was a sudden leave. That week was…very quiet.

“You do care.”

“Not even close.” Jafar couldn’t help but turn light red as they finally made it to the door. “Waiting for Rurumu?”

“Of course. She’s my ride.” Hinahoho laughed.

“She’s your wife.” Jafar corrected. “Tell her I said good night.”

“Will do.”

♦♦♦

           Sinbad really was many things. But sometimes he just liked to surprise everyone. Like this morning. He was late. Happens to all of them really but that wasn’t the surprising part. It was when he ran in late that everyone was surprised.

           “…Sinbad…who’s that?” Drakon finally spoke up pointing at the sleepy child Sinbad was holding.

           Sinbad tried to straighten himself out but he ran the whole way while carrying the child. “This…this is Aladdin. His babysitter cancelled on me.” He cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t work appropriate, but I couldn’t find a place for him to stay.” Big blue eyes stared at everyone before the boy hid his face against Sinbad’s chest.

           “Is he…?”

           “It’s a long story. I promise I’ll get all my work done and he’ll behave. It’ll be just for today.” He was practically begging. Something Sinbad never did.

           “I suppose that’s fine.” Drakon agreed. What else could he really say? He also worked under Sinbad why was he asking permission?

           “Thank you.” Sinbad sighed relieved before lifting Aladdin a bit in his arms. “Come on buddy. You can color while I work.

           Aladdin looked up at Sinbad and nodded as he walked to his office.

           "Sinbad is…a father?“ Pisti asked once he was gone.

"I don’t know.” Sharrkan wasn’t sure what just happened.

“I didn’t even know.” Hinahoho felt offended. Weren’t they best friends?!

Rurumu watched the group bicker as she remained quiet. She knew. She was the only one who knew. That’s how Sinbad was able to get that week off suddenly a couple months back. Sinbad begged her not to tell. Not because he was ashamed, he loved Aladdin. He just didn’t want pity on the boy. She looked over noticing Jafar was quiet staring at the door Sinbad once stood. Seems he was curious about the whole thing too.

♦♦♦

“Sorry I forgot your coloring book.” Sinbad apologized giving Aladdin some blank papers to use his crayons on.

“It okay!” Aladdin grabbed the blue crayon. “I can draw! I’ll draw you!” He was about to use the blue crayon but stopped himself with a look of hard concentration. He put it down grabbing the purple one instead and began drawing.

“Looks like someone is going to grow up an artist.” Sinbad smiled patting his head before heading for his desk. Okay no messing around today. Actually, since he adopted Aladdin, he hasn’t been messing around much. He’s been getting his work done early to go home to Aladdin. Sinbad picked up some papers before frowning. “Shoot…I forgot the documents are still with Drakon.” He stood up. “Aladdin stay here okay? I have to go get some stuff real quick.”

“Okay.” Aladdin agreed still drawing.

Sinbad smiled knowing Aladdin would listen before leaving to pick up his work…hopefully they didn’t ask questions. He really wasn’t ready to talk about this right now.

Aladdin just kept coloring sticking his tongue out in concentration. This was going to be his best picture yet!

“Sinbad I need you to-” Jafar stopped when he realized the other was missing. He looked over seeing Aladdin stare back. Aladdin quickly panicked dropping his crayon and running behind the couch in Sinbad’s office. “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jafar kneeled down not wanting Aladdin to feel threaten by him. Despite what others believed, Jafar was a softy. Especially to children. “What’s your name?”

Aladdin fidget a bit looking down. “…Aladdin.”

“Hi Aladdin. I’m Jafar.”

“…hi.” Aladdin still didn’t look up.

Jafar frowned noticing he wasn’t getting anywhere with him. He looked over at the table noticing the drawing. “Is that Sinbad?”

Aladdin finally looked up when Jafar mentioned his drawing and nodded.

“You’re really good. Though you forgot that little hair he has that sticks up all the time.” Jafar made a motion with his finger on his head.

Aladdin gasped running back to the table to look at his drawing. “I did!” He quickly fixed the problem before continuing to draw.

“Does Sinbad take care of you?” Jafar couldn’t help but ask. He was curious like everyone else.

“Uh-huh. He promised mommy. Uncle Sinbad is really nice. Mommy said he’ll take good care of me.”

“Your mommy?”

“Yeah! Uncle Sinbad was always helping out mommy! She was sick a lot and Sinbad was our…nay…neig-…” Aladdin scrunched his eyebrows trying to remember the word.

“Neighbor?” Jafar helped him out.

Aladdin smiled. “Yeah! He lived in front of our room! And even when uncle Sinbad moved away. He visited all the time to play and help mommy!" 

Jafar wanted to ask. He wanted to know what happened to his mother. Before he could ask though he was interrupted.

"Jafar?” Sinbad was surprise to see the other here. Especially kneeled down near Aladdin who was still drawing. He was very shy boy. How did he warm up to Jafar already? Not to mention Jafar was strictly business all the time. Was he here because of Aladdin?

“Oh Sinbad.” Jafar stood up dusting himself off. “I needed these documents signed but you weren’t here.

"Sorry I had to get something from Drakon. I’ll get those signed right away.” He walked around to his desk.

Jafar nodded looking one last time at Aladdin before walking over to get everything signed. “….never saw you as a father figure.”

“Neither did I.” Sinbad chuckled as he signed. “Maybe you should get to know me better.” He winked at the other.

“I don’t think so.” Well Sinbad was definitely still the same. No way he was actually a good father-

Aladdin suddenly sneezed alerting Sinbad. He stood up grabbing a tissue. “Bless you Aladdin. You got some sniffles?”

Aladdin sniffed a bit nodding.

“Alright blow.” Sinbad held the tissue in front of Aladdin’s nose as the boy did what he was told. He cleaned him up before tossing the used tissue. “Want some grapes?”

“Yes please.”

“Look at that. Using the word please like a pro.” Aladdin giggled as that as Sinbad reached for the box of grapes. “Don’t eat too many okay.”

Aladdin instantly grabbed a handful putting them in his mouth. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No talking with your mouth full.” He smiled when he received a nod from Aladdin before going back to his desk. “Sorry about that. I’ll finish signing now.”

“That’s…alright.” Jafar was still stunned at what he just saw. Sinbad was a wonderful caretaker. He didn’t even know this side of Sinbad existed.

♦♦♦

Jafar couldn’t help but think about what he just saw the whole time he was working. Sinbad was a kind man. Despite all that stupid flirting he did. All this time he thought Sinbad was just an idiot.

He didn’t see the other again until lunch when he went into the break room. He noticed Sinbad helping Aladdin with his food by cutting it for him.

“Don’t eat too fast.”

“Okay!”

“You’re not drooling already are you.”

“No!” Aladdin grabbed a napkin wiping his mouth just in case.

“I was just kidding.” Sinbad laughed putting down the knife.

“You meanie.” Aladdin pouted.

“Am I? Am I a big ol’ meanie?” Sinbad tickled the other making Aladdin giggle again.

Everyone in the break room just stared since this side of Sinbad was new to everybody. They still wanted to know why Aladdin was in his custody.

Once Aladdin stopped laughing he looked over seeing Jafar. He jumped off his chair grabbing a piece of paper from the table before running towards him. “Look! Look!” He got on his top toes showing Jafar the picture. “I finished!”

Jafar didn’t think Aladdin wanted to show him the picture. Though he still kneeled down for him to get a better look. His knees were probably going to be sore by the end of the day. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Aladdin began to point at the picture. “I drew Sinbad here. Then me. And I drew you too because you helped me with my drawing. I made you green.” Sure enough there was three figures. Purple for Sinbad, green for Jafar, and blue for Aladdin.

“That’s very lovely Aladdin.” Jafar smiled at the picture. He noticed another figure in the corner. “Who’s this pink one here?”

“That’s mommy. She’s watching over us.” Aladdin looked back at his picture. “She’s an angel because she’s in heaven.”

Jafar’s eyes widen looking at Sinbad who just stared at his food. What exactly was happening? His mother past away?

Aladdin grabbed Jafar’s hand leading him towards Sinbad. “Eat with us! Uncle Sinbad makes really good food!”

Jafar let himself be lead sitting next to Sinbad with Aladdin popping up in between them.

Aladdin happily started eating but Jafar just stared at Sinbad concerned.

“…come by the office afterwards.” Was all Sinbad said before he began eating too.

Jafar nodded knowing he’ll answer his questions then.

♦♦♦

“It’s not what you think.” Sinbad began as he tucked Aladdin in on the couch. It was always his nap time after lunch.

“Then what is it? How long have you even had him? Did anyone even know?” Jafar was trying to stay calm to not wake Aladdin from his nap. But he had so many questions.

“It’s been about five months. Rurumu was the only one who knew and…Sheba, his mother, used to be my neighbor at that old shitty apartment I used to live in.”

Jafar sat down in front of the desk deciding this might be a long story.

“She was very sick. But very kind. I met Aladdin when he was only a few months.”

“The father?”

“Isn’t me.” Sinbad answered right away. “His father was killed when she was only a few months pregnant.”

“Oh my god. Why?”

“…his name was Solomon.”

“Solomon? Like David Abraham’s son Solomon. The twisted manipulator?”

“David was, not Solomon. Solomon was killed by some people David crossed. Sheba said he was a good man. Always loving and caring for her despite what others said.”

“You would think David would take care of his only grandson.” Jafar hated that man. He only met him once before and instantly loathed him.

“He doesn’t know about Aladdin. He didn’t even know about Sheba being pregnant. He was against Solomon’s relationship with her.”

“…this is a really deep subject Sin…maybe I shouldn’t know.” Just talking about this seemed to bother Sinbad.

Sinbad sighed leaning back. “It’s fine…I don’t really see why you shouldn’t know. But maybe I did go too deep? Maybe I just finally want to get this off my chest.” Rurumu herself only knew a few details.

"So what’s your relationship in all this?”

“Like I said I met Sheba when I first moved into that apartment. She was kind and helpful. Even fed me when I had nothing to eat.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“Sheba was like a big sister to me…but she was very ill. Just kept growing sicker throughout the years. Nothing made her better.”

Jafar stayed quiet noticing tears forming in Sinbad’s eyes though he keep blinking them away.

“I would help her out the best I could. Cleaning, shopping, cooking, taking care of Aladdin. Even when I moved away I would still visit to make sure she was okay.”

“…what happened Sin?”

Sinbad clutched his fist at the bitter memory. “One day, my visit wasn’t as cheery as it usually is.”

♦♦♦

“Sheba?” Sinbad knocked again when he got no answer. “Sheba, I brought some take out today! Chinese from your favorite restaurant!” He frowned when there was still no answer. Maybe she was out at a doctor’s appointment. Though usually she would tell him when those were so he could take her. He was about to walk away when he heard noise coming from inside.

“S-sinbab…?” He heard Aladdin crying from the other side of the door.

“Aladdin? Aladdin what’s wrong?” Sinbad glued himself to the door instantly worried.

“M-mommy..she won…she won’t wake up…”

Sinbad panicked fishing the extra key he was given to open the door. He finally opened it seeing Aladdin crying. “Where’s Sheba?”

Aladdin pointed to the living room before Sinbad picked him up heading towards the living room. His heart dropped seeing Sheba on the floor. “Oh my god Sheba!” He put Aladdin down grabbing his phone to dial an ambulance. “Please be breathing. Please be breathing.” He kneeled in front of her feeling her pulse. It was faint but still there. “Yes hello? I need an ambulance right away! I don’t know how long she’s going to last!”

♦♦♦

Sinbad was holding Aladdin outside the emergency room. Aladdin had already fallen asleep from all his crying. Sinbad on the other hand had bags under his eyes refusing to get rest until he had some news on Sheba.

The doctor finally came out after what seemed like days going up to Sinbad. “She’s awake.”

“Is she..?” Sinbad frowned when he saw the doctor shook his head.

“I’m sorry. She probably won’t make it past tonight. Her illness has spread entirely throughout her body.”

Tears poured down Sinbad’s eyes at the news. “…she has a child.”

“I’m so sorry.” The doctor apologized again before leaving.

Sinbad shakenly got up going into the room. Sure enough, Sheba laid there awake doing her best to breath. “Sheba….”

“I already know….” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I was hoping I had more time…”

“There has to be something.”

“You and I both know…that isn’t true…I’ve been sick for a long time…”

Sinbad just cursed still crying. This wasn’t fair! She didn’t deserve this!

“Sinbad…I have a favor….to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

“Can you care…for Aladdin…I know that…it’s a lot of…responsibility…but I don’t trust him…with anyone else.”

Sinbad couldn’t find words. He looked down at Aladdin before nodding. He’ll care for him. He’ll make sure Aladdin has a wonderful life.

“Thank you…can you wake him…I want to say goodbye.”

Sinbad nodded again still not trusting his words. He shook him lightly in his arms before Aladdin began to stir opening his eyes. He looked over at Sheba noticing she was awake.

“Mommy?”

Sheba smiled trying to lift her arms to hold him. “Hi sweetie.” Sinbad put Aladdin on the bed letting the other crawl to her so they could hug.

“…I don’t like it here….I wanna go home.”

“Oh honey…I’m sorry…Mommy can’t go home.”

“Why not?”

“Because mommy has to go.” Sheba started to explain as she cried. “But…Sinbad will take good care of you. So you be good with him okay?”

“…can I visit you?”

Sheba shook her head still crying. “Mommy will be too far away. But I love you so very much Aladdin. So much.”

Aladdin stayed quiet. “…is mommy going with daddy…?”

Sheba nodded.

“Mommy Is gonna be an angel?”

“Yes…I’ll be watching over you.”

“Okay…I’ll be good with Sinbad. So mommy can be a happy angel.” Aladdin smiled though he was crying now.

Sheba held Aladdin as tight as she could.

“I love you mommy.”

“Me too. So much.”

Sinbad just watched quietly before the monitors beeping began to slow down until there was no more. He’ll make sure to keep his promise for Sheba. He’ll give Aladdin a wonderful life.

♦♦♦

“I’m sure you can catch up with the rest of the story.” Sinbad finished looking at Aladdin who was still sleeping. Tears were already pouring down his eyes from the memory. He really missed Sheba. He looked back at Jafar and was caught off guard.

Jafar was sitting there crying himself. He didn’t know this. Sinbad was just supposed to be some pervert. Yet now he realized Sinbad was…more than that.

“Oh my god I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Sinbad grabbed some tissues to give to Jafar.

“What do you expect?” Jafar took in a shaky breath drying his tears. “I didn’t know you were…nice.”

“I’m not really sure what to say to that.”

“I thought you were just a pervert.”

“You really know how to make people feel better don’t you?”

“Well you still are.”

“Anything else you want to insult about me?”

“Plenty but I’ll save them for later.”

“Thanks.”

Jafar smiled as they both laughed softly. He looked back at Aladdin. “…if you need any help. I’ll be happy to assist. I’m sure it isn’t easy for a single parent…uhh uncle.”

“I…really appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem…I wouldn’t want Aladdin becoming some pervert because of you.”

“And there are the insults.”

♦♦♦

Aladdin seemed to grow rather fond of Jafar. He was always happy to have the other over. And when he would go to the office he would stop by his office too. Jafar didn’t mind it at all…though there was one thing he did mind.

“Aunty Jafar!” Aladdin ran in hugging the other. So much for Aladdin’s office visit being a one time thing. Though no one seemed to mind. He was adorable.

“Hi Aladdin. But I thought I told you to just call me Jafar.”

“But uncle Sinbad said it was fine.”

“Of course he did.” Jafar will make sure to get him back later. Maybe doubling his work load.

“Should…should I not?” Aladdin gave him the puppy eyes. He loved calling Jafar auntie.

Jafar twitched before sighing. He wasn’t going to win this battle. “I suppose it’s alright.”

Aladdin smiled again snuggling against him.

“Come on Aladdin.” Sinbad came by the door grinning. “Auntie has some work to do.”

“Okay!” Aladdin let go off Jafar running towards Sinbad’s office.

“Auntie?” Jafar glared at him.

“What he likes it.” Sinbad smirked walking over to him. “And I mean you could be the official aunt if-”

“I’m still not going on a date with you.”

“Oh come on! You said I was nice.”

“Still a pervert.”

“What have I done lately that’s been perverted?”

“Touched my ass when I bent down for fallen paper work.”

“Oh yeah I forgot about that.”

“You cat whistle every time I walk by your office.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“You have the stupidest pick up lines.”

“Hey, I like you a latte while you were holding a latte was a good one…and that isn’t perverted.”

“So annoying.”

“You’re mean.”

“And yet you still chase me.” Jafar rolled his eyes before walking away.

Sinbad stopped for a moment before smirking. “I think you like being chased.”

“Excuse me?” Jafar stopped looking back at Sinbad.

“Admit it you love the attention.”

Jafar blushed. “You’re insane.”

“I can prove it.”

“Oh my god you’re insane.”

“I’ll prove to you that you like me chasing after you.”

“This outta be good.”

“Yes it will.” Sinbad winked before leaving. “Get ready to admit it.”

“Never.”

♦♦♦

Jafar was making some copies in the morning when he felt something-rather someone hug his legs. “Good morning Aladdin.”

“Morning auntie.” Aladdin giggled as Jafar lifted him.

“You sleep well?”

“Uh huh.” Aladdin kissed his cheek. “Uncle Sinbad read me a bed time story. There was a frog in it and a princess.”

“Now that’s really sweet of him.”

“Come on Aladdin.” Sinbad called out from down the hall.

Jafar put Aladdin down so he could run towards Sinbad. “What no awful pick up line?” Jafar smirked at him. He was dying to see how Sinbad was going to make him admit it.

Sinbad just smirked back winking at him before going towards his office.

Jafar just rolled his eyes before continuing his copies. Though, that was weird that Sinbad didn’t even try.

The rest of the day went by…slowly. No visits from Sinbad. No whistles. No touches. No stupid pick up lines. What the hell was happening?

Was Sinbad ignoring him?! How dare he?! He noticed Sinbad leaving with Aladdin in his arms and decided to demand an explanation. “Hey!”

Sinbad stopped looking back at Jafar who march over to him.

“Why are you ignoring me!?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“I don’t und-…What?” Jafar anger was immediately replaced by confusion.

“I’m not ignoring you. Did you call for me earlier or something?”

“I…no…I didn’t.”

“Then I guess I’m not ignoring you.” He shrugged.

“You just…always came by my office and today…”

“Well I am working.” Sinbad chuckled moving Aladdin to one arm. “And you asked me to stop my nonsense did you not?”

“I…did.”

“Then I guess everything is fine.” Sinbad laughed waving goodbye as he walked away again.

“Night.”

“Night auntie!” Aladdin waved too.

“…Good night.” Jafar waved back feeling…rather lonely?

♦♦♦

It’s been about a week since Sinbad has started his little plan. And it seemed to be working. Now it was Jafar looking for him. He would start small talk and Sinbad made sure to keep it small. He really missed messing with the other though. But if he kept it up Jafar was sure to be his.

“Sin! Sin!” Aladdin ran up to him as he made them dinner.

“Woah where’s the fire. Why are you all worked up?”

“I made Jafar’s in…invi…invitation!” he said proudly. Jafar helped him to pronounce bigger words.

Sinbad blinked turning down the burner and kneeling down. “Invitation for what?”

“Your birthday!” Aladdin pointed at the picture. “It’s a pool party! You’re here in the pool. I’m swimming with Jafar here. Ruru is cooking with Hoho.” Aladdin kept pointing at everyone and everything in the picture.

Sinbad forgot his birthday was coming up. He has been pretty busy. A get together did sound nice. And they did have a pool. “You want to have a pool party for me?”

“Uh huh!” Aladdin bounced in place excited. “We can have hotdogs and hamburgers!”

“Alright. I’ll see if everyone can make it.”

“I want to give this to auntie Jafar!” Aladdin tugged on his sleeve.

“You want to personally invite him?”

Aladdin nodded looking back at his picture. “Yeah…he hasn’t come by to play in awhile…”

That…broke Sinbad’s heart. Aladdin missed Jafar…but this was perfect! Aladdin’s cuteness was irresistible! He could use this! “You’ll get to invite him tomorrow.” He messed with Aladdin’s hair making him giggle. “Tell him how much you’ve missed him too.”

♦♦♦

“You miss him.” Rurumu pointed out as they both drank coffee in her office.

“I do not!” Jafar huffed with bags under his eyes. To think he was losing sleep over this.

“You’re losing sleep over this.”

“Stop…stop reading my thoughts.” She always knew what he was thinking. It was kind of scary. He sipped his coffee.

“Honey, don’t you think the only reason you’ve put up with Sinbad as long as you have is maybe because you like him?”

“No!” he slammed his fist on the table almost knocking over the coffee. “S-sorry.”

“It’s alright. This table has taken quite a beating before.” She looked up noticing Jafar’s horrid expression. She blushed realizing what the other was thinking. “Jafar!”

“I’m sorry! My mind immediately went to a bad place!”

“You really have been hanging out with Sinbad too much.” She shook her head.

A knock was heard before the door was opened by Aladdin. “Auntie!” he ran over to Jafar. He was looking all over for him! “Oh! Good morning Ruru.” He smiled at her.

“Morning Aladdin.” She smiled at his politeness. Such a cute child.

“What are you doing over here Aladdin?” Jafar asked letting Aladdin climb on his lap.

“To invite you!” he showed Jafar his drawing. “It’s Uncle Sinbad birthday next week! We’re having a pool party!”

“A pool party?” Jafar didn’t do well outdoors. He gets burnt rather easily. But with Aladdin now explaining his picture… “It sounds fun.”

“So you’ll come?” Aladdin asked hopeful.

“I’m sure I can make it.”

Aladdin hugged Jafar. “I glad….I really missed you. You haven’t come to play…”

Jafar was suddenly washed over with guilt. He made Aladdin sad because of his stubbornness! “Oh I’m sorry Aladdin. I’ll make sure to make more time to come see you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

♦♦♦

“You know. You didn’t have to help us set up the party.” Sinbad pointed out as he was cleaning the barbeque.

“Aladdin wanted me to spend time with him so I came early.” Jafar set up the tables. He just didn’t think Aladdin was going to be napping before the party.

“Alright.” Sinbad appreciated the help. And seeing Jafar in shorts and a white t-shirt was nice. He only saw the other in suits all the time. Not that he minded.

They fell into another silence as they continued setting things up. Jafar still didn’t like this. Sinbad was still not doing anything. But he refused to give in. He’ll just have to get used to this. The quiet…just like before Sinbad.

“Jafar?” The other jumped when Sinbad was suddenly behind him. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you. You’ve just been staring at that towel for awhile.

Jafar looked at the towel in his hand before folding it and placing it with the others. “I just zoned out I guess.”

“You need something to drink? Rurumu told me you were sensitive with the sun.” Maybe the other was dehydrated. “Sit here I’ll grab you some lemonade.” He laid Jafar down on one of the pool chairs before going inside.

Jafar watched the other go inside before frowning. Maybe Sinbad just didn’t like him anymore. Who would after all the rejection right? Well this is what he wanted. To be left alone by Sinbad right? Doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would. He turned to his side to try to get more comfortable when he noticed big blue eyes staring. He sat up seeing Aladdin looking at him concerned.

“Are you not feeling well auntie?” Aladdin climbed up to sit next to him.

“Oh I’m fine just a little tired.” Jafar smiled not wanting to worry Aladdin.

Aladdin still didn’t look convinced. He wasn’t looking up at Jafar as he fidgeted with his thumbs. “…are you and Sin mad at each other?”

“Why would you think that?” Did Sinbad say something? Maybe he was just tired of him.

“You hardly come anymore…and uncle Sinbad doesn’t visit you like he used to.” He looked up at Jafar.

“We just been very busy at work lately Aladdin. We’re not mad.”

“So you and Sinbad still like each other?”

“Well I do see Sin as a friend I suppose.”

“No.” Aladdin frowned. “Like! Like how mommy liked daddy!”

Jafar was surprised Aladdin was asking this. “I don’t think so no.”

“But uncle Sin likes you.”

“I doubt he likes me like that.” It was just silly flirting Sinbad got tired of.

“…don’t you like Sinbad?”

Jafar stayed quiet not sure how to answer that. It was just a kid asking. He should be able to say no and drop it.

“One tall glass of lemonade coming right up!” Sinbad came outside noticing Aladdin. “You done with your nap?”

“Uh-huh.” Aladdin didn’t seem happy that Jafar stayed quiet.

“Still kind of sleepy aren’t you?” He handed Jafar the lemonade before picking Aladdin up. “I’ll be back Jafar. Gonna find Aladdin some swim trunks.”

Jafar smiled softly watching Sinbad go back inside. His smiled quickly faded looking back at the drink in his hand. What was he doing here?

♦♦♦

“Always nice to relax in a pool.” Hinahoho sighed in bless as he floated.

“Cannon ball!” The other was suddenly splashed followed by laughter of four teens.

“Kikirku stop trying to kill your father.” Rurumu shook her head at them as she sliced some watermelon.

Sinbad laughed along with everyone else. He was glad to see everyone so relaxed instead of stressed all the time with work.

“A pool party was a good idea.” Pisti cheered with Yamraiha as they both relaxed on floaties.

“It really was.” Mystras agreed happily watching Pipirka in her bikini playing with Aladdin.

“Get in there already.” Drakon pushed him in as he walked by to give Sahel her drink. Honestly those two were finally dating but Mystras was still as shy as ever. The other swam up coughing as Pipirka made sure he was okay.

Sharrkan bursted out laughing before he himself was pushed in by Masrur. There was no reason why he did it. He just felt like it.

“I should stay away from the sides of the pool.” Spartos made a note to himself. He didn’t want to pushed in.

Sinbad grabbed another beer from the ice chest looking around. Where did Jafar go? He was out here earlier.

Jafar sighed setting his gift on the table inside. Sinbad’s favorite wine. He was supposed to give it to him personally, but right now didn’t seem like a good time. At least with everyone distracted outside he could leave unnoticed. He turned around jumping at the sight of Sinbad. This was the second time the other snuck up on him today!

“Leaving so soon?” Sinbad frowned.

“I…I wasn’t feeling very well.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Weren’t even going to say bye?” Did Jafar really feel that bad? He was usually overly polite at parties. Unless he drank. Then it really was a party.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s a party Jafar. You really wouldn’t be interrupting anything.” He looked over at the table. Jafar got him a gift?

“Right. Well I think I should be going. Happy Birthday Sin.” He smiled walking past the other.

“Are you really feeling that bad?” Sinbad decided to at least walk Jafar out the door.

“Yeah…” Jafar paused at the door. “…you were right you know.”

Now Sinbad was confused. What was he right about?

“I guess maybe I did like the attention you gave me. I never thought anyone could even like me in such a way.” He gulped feeling himself shake. “But I guess you can only take so much rejection before you decide it’s not worth it anymore.”

Sinbad’s eyes widen. This wasn’t the confession he wanted! Did he really make Jafar feel unwanted. “Jafar it’s not like that-“

“I really did like the time we spent together. But I guess I was just too scared of it at the same time. Getting my hopes up.” Jafar turned around and Sinbad’s heart sunk. He was crying. “I’m really sorry for wasting your time. I hope you like your gift.” He turned back around opening the door.

It was immediately pushed closed again by Sinbad’s hand. “Jafar…this isn’t the confession I wanted.”

Jafar looked back at the other confused. What did he mean by confession he wanted?

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Jafar for god’s sake I really do like you.” He ran his fingers through his hair frustrated. “I mean it’s pretty obvious with everything I do.”

“But lately-“

“I know, I know. I wasn’t really doing any of that lately but it was to prove my point!”

“Your….point?”

“You know…for you to admit you liked me chasing you.” Sinbad reminded. “I really didn’t mean for you to feel bad.”

“So you weren’t…tired of me?”

“God no! Jafar I could never be tired of you!”

“So this was just your plan?”

“Not exactly I didn’t think I’d make you cry.”

“So you did this on purpose?” Jafar glared at Sinbad.

“You’re uhh…you’re sounding a little angry there Jafar.” Sinbad backed away a bit.

“You ignored me to get me to confess?!” Every step back Sinbad took Jafar matched with a stepped forward. They made it all the way outside and now everyone’s eyes were on them. What was going on?

“When you put it that way it sounds bad.” Sinbad gulped. “I’m really really sorry I put you through this.”

“You will be sorry!” Jafar pulled his hand back.

Sinbad shut his eyes waiting for a punch. When it didn’t come he finally peeked open his eye. He was confused when he saw Jafar’s finger against his forehead. He couldn’t think about it too long since Jafar pushed him back with it and he fell into the pool. He swam back up gasping for air. Jafar jumped into the pool himself cornering Sinbad. “Jafar look I’m really sorry!” Sinbad was actually scared of the other. Jafar has never been this mad at him before. Jafar grabbed Sinbad by his shirt collar. “I didn’t mean-!”

Jafar decided to finally shut Sinbad up once and for all. Though in a way no one expected. He kissed him. He pulled away still glaring at Sinbad. Though it didn’t have the same effect since he was now blushing. “Don’t ever mess with my emotions again.”

Sinbad just nodded before he was pulled into another kiss. He was not complaining.

“So does this mean you do like him!?” They were both interrupted by Aladdin standing next to them on the side of the pool. He was excited to see them together! It was always more fun with them together.

“I always thought Sinbad would be the one to kiss Jafar first not the other way around.” Yamraiha commented staring with everyone else. They don’t know what exactly happened but they were happy the two were finally together.

Jafar went completely red forgetting about everyone else. He began to swim away from Sinbad.

“Where are you going?” Sinbad grabbed Jafar arm.

“To drown myself.” He mumbled. To think he did this in front of everyone. He was so angry! All he saw was red and Sinbad!

“Nope!” Sinbad laughed hugging him. “You owe me a date now!”

Aladdin watched them as everyone laughed. He began kicking the water with his feet before looking up at the blue sky. He blinked seeing two figures on a cloud smiling at him. He grinned waving at them as they disappeared. His mommy really did turn into a beautiful angel. And now she was together with daddy. He knows they’ll watch over him with his new family.

Sinbad picked up Aladdin bringing him in the pool. “Want some watermelon?”

“Yeah!” he smiled.

“Not too much though. I don’t your appetite ruined for lunch.” Jafar smiled getting out the pool.

“Okay!” Aladdin laughed as Sinbad got out of the pool with him. Once he put Aladdin down, the boy ran up to grab Jafar’s hand and Sinbad’s so they can walk together. This was his new family now. And he loved them just like he did his mommy.

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

MScale (Part 1)

A/N: Wow okay, so this is a Soul Eater AU set in the Psycho-Pass universe that I wrote but never posted, and honestly I don’t know why. I really dig the idea and direction I was going with it, so let’s see how this goes. This will be a multi-chapter work.

Summary: There’s no rest for the wicked (or otherwise) when Death City is crawling with latent criminals. It’s Maka Albarn’s first day as an inspector at the Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Department, and what a first day it is.

Word Count: 2511

Genre: Psycho-Pass AU; Action, Drama

Characters/Pairings: Maka Albarn, Death the Kidd (Dean Kiddenger), Black*Star, Soul “Eater” Evans, Sid Barrett, Myra Nygus, Crona Gorgon, Giriko Sawyer, Angela (mention of Mifune and Arachne)/None in this chapter

Warnings: Violence (threats with a knife and description of death by explosion [if you’ve seen Psycho-Pass, you know what I mean, if not, I don’t go into much detail, no worries]), minor character death, hostage situation

“Oh man oh man I’m going to be late!” A petite girl wove between masses of towering (over her, anyway) pedestrians; her blonde pigtails flew behind her when she finally broke free of the hoards and took off at a sprint.  “Excuse me, pardon me, sorry-Whoa!!” Grabbing a pair of silver handles just before her face had an unfortunate encounter with spotless glass, Maka Albarn sighed with relief when big black characters declaring “Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Department” met her eyes instead. Righting herself, she threw the door open and attempted to speed through the lobby unnoticed, pulling up only when a skull-faced security droid requested her identification. "Oh, here-" She whipped out her newly commissioned PDA2400 and flashed her ID.

 "Authorization Confirmed: Albarn, Maka. Your presence is requested in building 3, level 8, hall 5, security desk 12, belonging to the Enforcement of Autonomy through Technology Division."

 "Thank-" She paused, realizing a drone likely didn't register appreciation, so she merely tightened her signature pigtails and pressed forward.

After nearly 10 whole minutes of wrong halls and desks, Maka finally strode toward number 12, trying to keep her assurance about her. 

 "Um..." Well, that went... "Is this the EAT Security desk?"

 A raven haired man with brilliant golden eyes peered over his clipboard, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the pages. 

 "You must be the new inspector....Albarn...Maka, correct?"

 "Yes, Maka Albarn." She straightened her shoulders, declaring her name with a stable tone. 

 "Albarn, huh?..." He muttered to himself. It could be a coincidence... "Dean Kiddenger. You may address me as Inspector Kiddenger. Now if you'll follow me this way..." He gestured down the off-white hallway. Following him like a newly domesticated animal, she nearly bumped into him when he suddenly stopped in front of an automatic glass door. "This-" He withdrew an identification card from his pocket, slid it through the registration slot, and ushered her inside. "Is our headquarters, so to speak. At least, for our unit of The Enforcement of Autonomy through Technology Division. You, myself, and our subordinates will work here."

 "Our-" Before she could get the question out, he was leading her to the side of the room.

 "Your station is here." He pointed to a small desk with a flat screen computer. "Any and all assignments will be delivered to your desk or sent instantly to your personalized Shibusen messaging inbox. Assignment reports are due no later than 24 hours after the mission is completed and all Madness Scale Detection Guns are returned to their proper dock. Assignments that do not fit the proper formatting as outlined in form-" 

 "FID 1-M, Form of Inspector Duties, section one, subsection M, of the Shibusen Madness Scale Law Enforcement Division handbook."

 He paused, his stare neutral as he observed her from behind his clipboard. Her mossy eyes glimmered, though she bit her lip a bit, realizing that she might have overstepped her bounds already...

 "It's nice to find that the academy was successful in training at least one knowledgeable recruit." The faintest shadow of a smile nearly graced his lips as he continued. "Seeing as you likely know anything else I might tell you, I will save both of us the time and trouble. Now, we will proceed to-" 

 A screeching blare sounded from a black box attached to the man'a hip, prompting a frown from him and a grimace from his new charge.

 "It seems we are needed. Kiddenger, Identification Code 4242564. Speak." Putting his ear to a small speaker, the elder inspector attentively absorbed the transmission, ending with a terse, "Yes, we'll be right down." 

 "It seems, Miss-....Inspector Albarn, that our assistance is needed in pursuit of a newly detected latent criminal."

 "So soon?  I mean, not that I'm not excited to jump into the job so quickly, I just....it seems so sudden."

 "Yes, well, we are a bit short on manpower as of late. We don't normally commission new recruits so soon, but your scores and overall progress and knowledge seem to show that you are prepared. Now, follow me to the preparation quarters and we will do a brief run down before we meet the rest of the team."

 ~

 "This-" Inspector Kiddenger placed his hands around a bulky gun, a large skull imprinted on the side. His eyes glowed white as the gun authenticated him. "Is your Madness Scale Detection gun, also called the “MSD” or “Demon” guns. They’re controlled by the Spartoi system. I trust you received lessons in the academy?"

 "Yes...briefly, but I caught on quickly." 

 "Good. Now, as a reminder, the gun decides whether or not someone is a criminal to be subdued. The gun reads the Madness Scale of whomever it pointed at and will only unlock the trigger if the target is a latent criminal. The level of depravity determines the level of enforcement. Another reminder: Only Inspectors may use guns on Enforcers, not the other way around, because they are, in fact, latent criminals."

 Her mossy eyes widened a bit as Maka pondered the implication. She knew, of course, what, or who, really, Enforcers were, but she never thought she'd meet them so soon, or that she would ever need to use a gun on one of them...

 "Get your gun. The Enforcers should be here-" He was cut off as a massive shadow overtook the transparent door a few yards away. "Now."

 The door slid open, and a group of five, led by a dark-headed woman with a bandaged face who must have been their supervising inspector, slowly filtered into the room and gathered their respective gear.

 "These are the Enforcers." The lead inspector nodded to the silent woman, hardly bothering to lower his voice. "They are neither human nor animal, but some fine-line creatures that dwell in between. They are not as spotless as you or I, their Madness Scales having been thrown off balance long ago, but they have been deemed redeemable only through their abilities and knowledge, granting them whatever significant value to this system." 

 "I-I see..."

 "Oooo Kiddo brought us some fresh meat!" A raucous tone declared. Maka soon identified the owner as an azure-haired muscle-head of a man; he approached her confidently, gun in hand as he looked her over. "Hmmm not bad, Kiddo, though she's a little...'small up north,' if you-OW!" He was cut off when another enforcer, a sizable man with cornrows, delivered a healthy slap to the back of his head, making him see stars. 

 "That's enough from you, punk." He grumbled. "Show the lady some respect. She's our new handler, after all." 

 "Indeed." Kiddenger broke in, shooting a disdainful glare at the loud mouth. "For today, Black*Star," He pointed to the now sheepish brawn for Maka's reference. "And Sid." He gestured to the towering figure. "Will come with me. Soul and Crona, you're with Inspector Albarn."

 "All right, team, let's do this!!" Black Star thundered, pounding out the door as the other two men followed behind him. 

 "Well..." Maka turned, finding herself face-to-face with a set of the palest blue eyes she'd ever seen. "I'm Maka Albarn," She chirped. "And you're..." 

 "Uh...um, C-Crona G-G-Gorgon..." The robin egg irises shied from her gaze. 

 "And you-" 

 "Hey, Kidd and the others left like a full minute ago." A growling tone bit off. "We'll save intros for later, we need to get a move on." Silvery locks brushed past her, and she barely caught sight of flashing scarlet as the rough-throated figure breezed past her.

 "Right, sorry....Soul?" She jogged after him, Crona trailing behind, his gun facing the floor. "So, where are we going, exactly?"

 "Check your SPDA. You should've been sent the information as soon as we were assigned." 

 Flipping open her device, Maka found a briefing message awaiting her. Scrolling through, she picked out the general details and area of pursuit. 

 Target Name: Giriko Sawyer

Occupation: Pest Control Technician

Affiliation: Arachnaphobia Pest Control Services (Currently Under Surveillance)

Status: Targets condition detected by street scanners when he was on his lunch break. Never returned to his post. His last detection indicated that his Madness Scale Ratio was unbalanced at 30:70.

 "The target's name is... Giriko... weird... okay, scanners not too far from here just picked up his readings. Let's go!" She took off at run, adrenaline feeding her elation as she lead her team to their mission field.

 ~

 "Let's see..." Maka stood at the crossroads of two alleyways, trying to pinpoint which of her three options was their best bet. "Left leads deeper into the city...right leads toward the residential district...straight leads to the business sector...."

 "He went right." Soul interjected.

 Maka stalled. "How do you know?...That...natural instinct for sniffing out depravity?" She snuck a glance at the rather tall man poised in front of her; his face was stoic. Despite what the senior inspector had said, he looked pretty human to her...though his eyes...

 He merely nodded to the right, indicating a discarded uniform hanging from a fruit crate. "Briefing said he works at Arachnophobia Pest Control, right?" 

 Blushing a bit, Maka followed the pair as they slowly moved forward. "Soul?"

 "Yeah?" He grunted, angling toward her with a raised brow as they crept forward.

 "What did it mean, in the mission update, when it said that Arachnophobia is under surveillance?"

 "That place has churned out a handful of employees with MScale imbalances. Giriko is the third this year. Some team from Shibusen is keeping tabs on the place to see if they can pinpoint the cause."

 "I see..." She started a bit when her PDA rang out with a mission update.

 "H-he took a hostage." Crona stuttered out, his brows creased. "A k-kid...a little girl n-named Angela. What'll we do now, Soul?" 

 "What we're already doing. Track the guy down and wait for the Demon guns to tell us what to do with the scumb-" 

 A dark, lurching figure emerged from around an apartment building about a block ahead of them.  A high-pitched little voice cried out indignantly. "You better let me go! You're gonna be sorry you took me! My daddy knows how to fight, and he'll kick your stupid butt with his big sword! He'll cut your guts ou-"

 "Shaddup!" The man hollered, suddenly spinning around and pinning the child against the wall, a knife angled toward her tiny throat. "One more peep from you and I'll slice right through that windpipe of yours, ya hear?!" 

 The child's words clogged in her throat, her brown eyes wide in recognition. "M-Mister...Gir-?"

 "Hey!" Maka cried, charging forward even as Crona and Soul grasped at her to keep quiet. "Let her g-"

 "Stop right there or she dies!" Giriko demanded, pulling the child in front of him as a human shield, the knife still at her throat. 

 "Crap." Soul muttered from behind her.

 "Hey, you! Alla you! Drop your guns, now! Or she dies!" 

 Throwing a glance behind the man, Maka slowly lowered her gun, signaling for the other two to do the same. 

 Detecting her subtle movement, the criminal peered over his shoulder. "The hell you-" 

 "AAHH!" Maka, her weapon raised and activated, charged at the man full force, gun pointed to his forehead. 

 "Target's MScale Ratio: 25:75. Now activating: sin erasing exec-." 

 "No you don't!" The man released the girl long enough to spin around and kick the gun from Maka's hands, a triumphant grin on his features. "Now you're in for it, Missy!" He bellowed, grabbing the girl in one arm and the inspector in the other. Laughing hysterically, he muttered, "There ain't no way I'm spendin' my life in one of those isolation rooms. I'm takin' both of you with me, and you'll be my pretty little-"

 "-20:80. Now activating: sin erasing execution."

 A roar shattered the air, and nothing was left of the man but scattered carnage and a pool of blood. Turning, Maka sighed with relief when she saw Kiddenger lowering his gun, Black Star and Sid looking on behind him.

 Turning toward the little girl at her side, Maka started, "It's gonna be okay, swee-" She froze at the petrified look on the child's face; her tiny body trembled violently, her big brown eyes wide and watering. Bending down, Maka took the child into her embrace, rocking her as the girl murmured, "He…he w-worked w-with my d-addy...he...t-tried to k-k-" She exploded into sobs, gripping onto the woman as tears poured from her eyes. 

 "It's gonna be okay now, sweetie." Maka soothed, lifting the child into her arms as she turned to her team. "Everything's gonna be okay."

 ~

 "H-How's she doing?" Crona asked a few hours later, coming up beside Maka as she watched the child from behind a two-way mirror. 

 "I think she'll be okay, eventually. Her madness scale took a hit after all that, but she's still a kid. They bounce back pretty well."

 "I'll say...."

 "Hey."

 Soul poked his head in the door. "Kidd needs to talk to us." 

 In the conference room, Inspector Kiddenger and a spectacled lady Maka recognized as the Head Inspector, Yumi  Azusa, sat at the head of a lengthy table.

 "Inspector Albarn." Azusa began, her tone and her eyes the same cold steel. "Inspector Kiddenger has informed me that you took....unnecessary and highly dangerous risks during your recent mission." 

 "I-" 

 "You threw yourself at a latent criminal, allowed him to de-arm you and take you into his custody, correct?"

 "Well, only-" 

 "Y-Yes, M-Ma'am,” Crona cut in, blushing when all eyes were on him. “Ah-she did, but-" 

 "She believed, though incorrectly, that her actions would allow her to free the hostage, even at a personal cost to herself."

 "B-but-"

 "Inspector Albarn, I understand that you are new here, but such actions cannot be taken. The risk posed to the hostage and to yourself-"

 "But, ma'am, um...Chief Azusa,” Maka started. “We both made it out alive and safe, save for some blood stains, and my MScale was completely unaffected."

 That froze the room for a moment.

 Sighing, the other woman rose and assented, “Very well. Since you are new and your qualifications are exemplary, you will be pardoned with minor probationary action this one time. I expect a full and detailed report to be sitting on my desk by 5:30pm tomorrow, understood?"

 "Yes ma'am."

 ~

 "Wow." Soul deadpanned as the trio strode back to the observation room. "She's never gone that light on anybody. She must really be impressed with you." 

 Maka merely hummed in reply as she went in to interact with Angela.

 "She's...different, Soul." Crona commented as they watched her bright eyes and sweet smile as she spoke with the recovering child. "I...I can't believe she wasn't tainted at all...even after that guy threatened her..."

 Soul merely grunted in reply, his flashing gaze still locked on the outlandish inspector who was his newly assigned owner.

 "B-but I'm glad she's here...A n-new face isn't s-so bad..."

 "Yeah, let's just hope that we don't end up babysitting her more than she monitors us."

 The older Enforcer turned on his heel, heading for his quarters to do a little investigating of his own.

[pendulumprince]

Title: Amalgamation

Characters: Serena, Yuri, Sora Shiunin

Pairings: Predatorshipping

Summery: He crossed lines he couldn’t come back from; she made promises that were impossible to keep. It was fine, perfectly so, as long as they were together. 

Notes: *heavy breathing* Y’all wanted trash well you got it. 

It’s AU time. This is currently a oneshot, but I left things open-ended enough that I’ll be able to continue if any interest for that is shown.

All I can say is: I tried.

(TW for allusions to suicide and the romanization of said suicide. TW for some body horror.)

I

They were eleven when everything got lost in the fire. His parents were trapped in their bedroom between their barred windows and the fire itself. Her field reporter father suffocated from the smoke inhalation as he reported on the disaster.

The fire went on for several blocks, ravaging the modest, Mediterranean-style homes that lined their winding roads. Serena ran towards the fire to find him, just as Yuri was running from it towards her, and they caught each other in a moment of supreme relief. They then fled to the docks, tiny and lost in a sea of ashen faces. They tried calling for their parents to see if they were there, but their voices were soundly drowned out by the panicked commotion around them.

There was an old adage that stated, no parent should outlive their children. This was true, but Serena still wished she could exchange her life for her father’s. She would gladly give anything to hug that wonderful, silly man just one last time. Her mother was long dead; he had filled both roles. With his death, she was set adrift, alone in the world save for one person.

She found Yuri sitting at the edge of the docks after he received word on his own family. The way he stared into the water frightened her, so she walked over and sat down next to him. She clasped her hand on his shoulder and dipped her head so that it was an inch away from his. “It’s you and me, forever,” she quietly vowed. “As long as you need me, I will never die.”

At those words, he turned his head up and stared blankly into the horizon. She lowered her hand from his shoulder so she could link arms with him; she was prepared for the inevitable drowning attempt. Either we live together, or I get to see father again. No in-betweens!

“You promise?”

He sounded blasé as ever, perhaps a bit much so. She pushed all thoughts of her father aside, because just as he rose from the grief of his wife’s passing in order to raise her, she also had to rise from her grief. “I promise, we will always be together.”

“But life is unpredictable, and terribly strange. What if we get separated?”

“Then I’ll grab hold of fate with my own two hands, and surpass it! No matter where you go, I will definitely find you. Definitely!”

“Oh, Serena,” he sighed, resting his head on her shoulder. She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the impish grin in his voice. He hooked his pinky around her bracelet. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

She was glad her blush had disappeared by the time the social workers came to retrieve them.

II

They were sent to the only orphanage in their small, pastoral town. It was as clean as could be, the Headmistress making sure of that in the way she delegated chores. Many hands made for light work. Ambiance was not the problem.

The teachers and caretakers were also kind, and fair with their beatings. No harder or any more frequent than her father, the one person who acted as the standard by which she judged all other adults. With him in mind, their belief in corporal punishment seemed entirely appropriate; she never thought to question it.

The food was edible. Nothing compared to the culinary gold her father was capable of, but it wasn’t terrible and sat well enough with her. They received three meals a day, which was more than what she expected. In all, she found it to be acceptable.

The only universal point of contention was that there was the prohibition against dueling, but she and Yuri soon discovered that everyone did it anyway. Its pervasiveness was an open secret, one of the few rules that no one cared to truly enforce. So long as no one got too showy, the Headmistress left well enough alone.

Nighttime. That was the big problem.

Every night was the same in that Serena couldn’t sleep through it. Her dreams were plagued by the sounds of screaming children, plumes of smoke, bodies hitting the ground, the smell of cooked flesh. Late spring was when her life was razed to the ground, so in those first few months she would wake up in the dead summer heat and think it was still happening. She would scream, jump out of bed, even sprint a few steps towards the door; but then reality would take hold again, and she would remember that that night was long past her.

All the commotion would wake up the other five girls she shared a room with. They tolerated her night terrors and flashbacks for a time—she was hardly the first among them to be plagued in such a way—but their patience was depilated after three solid months of broken sleep. The oldest among them took it upon herself to bring Serena’s “issue” to the attention of one of their caretakers. When no immediate action was taken, the girls decided to take matters into their own hands by locking Serena out of their bedroom after lights out.

She slept at the foot of her bedroom door that night, but her nightmares hit her all the same—only this time, instead of being confined to one room, her screaming echoed on and on throughout the entire girl’s sleeping quarters.

“You have nightmares every night? Since we got here?”

Yuri asked her this the next day during their fifteen-minute lunch break. Completely ignoring his half-eaten sandwich—and thus, risking the punishment he would receive for wasting food—he’d turned completely towards her, wrapping his hands around hers and bringing them to rest in his lap. As always, he was cool to the touch, a welcome relief from the stale heat that permeated the air. Still, she burned with shame. She was supposed to be stronger and braver than this.

She knew Yuri couldn’t comprehend why she simply couldn’t move past that night, as he had. Things like homework and chores and the death of one’s parents seemed inconsequential to him, easily ignored as he floated above and beyond reality. And she could do nothing more than watch him soar through the sky as she remained tethered to the scorched earth below, unable to get past, unable to move on.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he continued, his voice growing soft. “I could have helped you.”

Serena wanted to ask how, but she refrained. (Anything to prove she still had some semblance of self-control.) She turned away from him. He seemed more shaken by the thought of her hiding something from him than he was by the news of his parent’s demise. It compounded her shame, but he seemed to sense that, too.

“It’s okay.” He paused for a moment, before firmly squeezing her hands. “It’s okay,” he repeated in a more definitive tone.

The bell rang. Serena pulled her hands away, quickly gathered her things and scurrying off before Yuri could see her shameful tears. She couldn’t bear the thought of her brave and strong friend seeing her in such a weak state, and thus knowing for sure that she wasn’t cut from the same cloth. What if his opinion of her dropped? What if he didn’t want to be friends anymore?

That night, their caretakers made sure that Serena wasn’t locked out again by escorting her to her bedroom personally. The other girls shot withering glares at her, and the biggest among them warned Serena that if she made them lose one more night of sleep, they would put an end to things by shoving her out of their bedroom window once and for all. On that awful night, plenty of people survived the fire by jumping out of two, even three story windows, but they were all stationed on the sixth floor. Serena resolved that she simply could not afford to fall asleep.

She tried her best. That night she lay on her side facing the window, with her knees drawn up to her chest. She stared up at the full moon. Counted stars, lost track of stars. Willed the hands of time to go in reverse.

Three hours in, amongst the snores of the other girls, she heard the door behind her open and then softly close again. She thought nothing of it, assuming one of her roommates had gotten up to use the bathroom.

“Serena?” She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Are you awake?”

She jumped, startled, but didn’t scream as she might have. She recognized that voice, the background music to every happy memory she had. She turned to face him. “What are you—”

“Shh,” Yuri cooed, a gentle smiled stretching across his face as he climbed into bed with her. “I’m here to keep you company.”

“But you’re not allowed to be here. You might get in trouble.”

“So?” He rolled his eyes. “What can they do to me? Hit me? Take my mom and dad away?”

“They could hurt Sora,” she reasoned, referring to the friendless runt of an orphan who had taken to following Yuri around.

The look he gave her told her he didn’t see anything wrong with that, as though such a punishment would be akin to banning him from toilet cleaning duty. “Maybe then he’ll stop crying so much.”

“But isn’t he your student?”

He waved her off. “That’s just what he thinks. I couldn’t care less about him.”

“Well,” Serena tried to think of something he might care about. “They could hurt me. They could make sure we can’t see each other anymore.”

Yuri seemed to consider this for a moment, before shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll just leave before everyone wakes up.”

“But—”

“Serena,” he raised any eyebrow, and smiled the way he always did when he was about to break some rule presented to him. “When do I ever get caught?”

She huffed, insulted that he would lie so blatantly to her face. “You get caught all the time!”

Without breaking eye contact, he brought up his hand and then lowered it, slowly—a reminder that she ought to keep her voice down. He then cupped her cheek with that same hand. “I won’t get caught this time. I promise.”

She almost rolled her eyes. “Why are you even here?”

“To help you sleep. Come, lay down.” Yuri put his hand on her shoulder and applied some pressure—certainly light enough to resist if she truly didn’t want to. Still complied, turning to her side and away from him. Serena felt her bed shift as he laid down himself, on his side, also facing the window. He wrapped his arms around her midsection and curled himself around her.

It was the middle of summer, the heat wave so thick and pervasive that even the total absence of the sun offered little relief. There were no indoor fans; there was no gentle breeze coming in through the open window. Everyone, from the esteemed Headmistress all the way down to the lowest orphan, could do nothing but languish in the unending heat, and pray for dreams of winter. Such extreme weather almost never boded well with prolonged body contact—but Yuri was cold. With his every exhale, she felt his breath on her ear—a gentle breeze. “Don’t worry about anything. Just go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Serena murmured though a yawn. “They’ll throw me out the window if I scream again.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” he laughed softly. “But even if they do, I’ll just jump out after you. We can fly away together.” He nestled up against her and tightened his grip around her midsection. Serena couldn’t tell if he wanted to consume her, or if he wanted to fade into her. She could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “They’d would be doing us a favor…”

Serena tensed up. She knew what he meant, and it made her wonder if Yuri really was so above-it-all. A moment later, he loosened his grip on her. His face less than an inch away from hers, he whispered: “There’s a place for us, far away from here. A place where the trees grow tall, and the moon is always full, and kittens play in flowerbeds. A place just for you and me. The journey there won’t be as scary as you think.” He pointed at the window, beyond the confines of the orphanage and their town and reality itself. “With just one leap, this can all go away.”

The way he spoke made her nervous, but not for her own sake. She was sure that Yuri would never hurt her; it was an indisputable fact, on par with the color of the vast sky or the depth of the ocean blue. That didn’t mean, however, Yuri would never hurt anyone. And she wondered then, would he hurt himself? She remembered him sitting at harbor’s edge, sporting that hauntingly blank stare, and how she imagined him slipping down out of his seat and into the ocean below. Something made him refrain; something inspired him to continue on day in and day out. She simply wasn’t sure what that was.

That night, Serena had a dream of a different kind. She dreamt of a place where the trees grew tall, with thick branches reaching up to embrace the full moon above. And that moon, it was bigger and brighter than she had ever seen it before; so close, she could almost touch it herself.

She saw Yuri, but he hadn’t noticed her yet. He caught sight of a kitten a few feet away, and started towards it. Oleanders and azaleas bloomed with his every step, and the kitten, intrigued, began to wander over to him.

It was then that he began to float up into the sky. Serena ran toward him, determined to either keep him on the ground or fly up to the moon with him. She ran as fast as she could, but fell short by a few inches. And she could only watch helplessly as he drifted further and further away from her.

Suddenly she felt a tug on her body, and his ascent halted. She couldn’t see it, but there was a tie between them—strong enough to transcended every mode of their existence, yet flimsy enough to break at too sharp of a tug. If not for that tenuous bond, he would simply float away.

That morning, she woke up not from some nightmare, but from the Headmistress pounding her fist against the door, their very own alarm clock. Yuri, staying true to his word, was no longer in the room—but his delicate scent remained, clinging to her pillow. Her throat was tight. Her chest felt heavy and full. And she could do nothing more than blink blearily against the sunlight streaming in through her window, unable to shake off the unbelievable calm that tends to accompany the end of a prolonged crying session.

III

The schoolyard politics that governed the orphanage dictated that everyone stick to their own clique. What determined one’s group and status depended on a number of interplaying factors. Things like age, race, gender, town of origin, and connection to the outside world were all very important, but the one thing most heavily considered was dueling skill.

They would someday grow up to be fearsome and formidable duelists, but Serena and Yuri had just begun to develop their dueling skills when they first arrived. Sora had yet to even begin truly building his deck, basing his card choices entirely on how cute the monsters were. And so, they were regulated to a rather low status within the orphanage: not as low as some of the older children who still displayed poor dueling skills, but still not high enough for anyone to consider a possible alliance with. Serena could have potentially garnered protection by way of the older boys, who regarded her as weak not only for her age but for her gender as well. They thought she was cute and expected to make a little sister out of her. Serena would have none of it, kicking them in the shins and insulting their dead mothers whenever they approached her or tried to jump to her defense.

Yuri was impressed by Serena’s fortitude, always had been. He was sure that Sora would have jumped at the chance to have someone else fight his battles, weakling that he was. Because Sora followed him like a shadow, they were considered allied by default. Though they shared no blood and he never once came to the younger boy’s defense, everyone else in the orphanage saw them as inexorably linked. They would be considered a packaged deal in any potential alliance. It annoyed him to no end that he was being wordlessly pushed into acting in concert with his ‘student’, while the older boys seemed determined to take Serena way from him.

No matter how many times she rebuffed their “brotherly "advances, none of them seemed to take the hint that she wanted nothing to do with them. After one incident that involved them cornering Serena in a seldom used hallway, Yuri challenged the lot of them—six in all—to a duel. Serena joined him, as did Sora. Bravery aside, they were greatly outclassed, and their loss was a humiliating blow that reflected badly on how well they could defend themselves.

The reputation and status of their little group dropped to an even lower point than it already had been. The older boys became more relentless with Serena, arguing that she should let go of old "outside” friendships and ally herself with the strong. Some of the older girls began to actively push Sora around for no other reason than to prove that they could. At all of nine years old, he had no money they could mug off of him; so they instead turned to random acts of aggression, such as making him lick toilet seats, or locking him in the janitor’s closet where he would have to sit in abject silence for the entire day.

The older children soon learned that nothing they could do to Yuri would truly bother him. He ate the live bugs they “force fed” him with vigor, savoring each bite. When they pulled his pants down in the middle of recess, he simply stood there expectantly, the laughter died down into awkward silence soon after. One day, some of the boys who’d been after Serena held him down and forced him into dress—but all he did was run as fast as he could to where Serena was, to show off his new outfit and tell her how pretty and free he felt. Some of them gave up, and others turned to out and out violence, only to have Yuri escape them every time. They soon realized that everything they’d forced upon him only came to pass because he allowed it to happen—and with that, he was mostly left alone.

And so, as if to compensate, they stepped up their needling of Serena and Sora. And this was perhaps the only thing that truly did bother him. After one particularly alarming event in which Serena was picked up off the ground, her protests ignored, and almost carried her off to the boys sleeping quarters, Yuri decided it was time to take action.

It was a simple plan: take the janitor’s drain cleaner and mix it into a shampoo or liquid soap bottle in the boy’s washroom. The prolonged exposure on open skin would, at the very least, leave a terrible rash; best-case scenario saw the drain cleaner getting into their eyes, which would cause either sudden or eventual blindness. Whatever the outcome, Yuri hoped it would be gradual. He wanted it to be slow, wanted to give Serena the gift of getting to watch her tormentors suffer.

The perpetrators were around fourteen years old, meaning their group would be allowed to shower at 7:00 pm. At first, he considered committing the act on a day where he was scheduled to clean the boys’ washroom—he would have easy access to the showers, and could commit the deed there. But after some consideration, he realized that the circumstances and his well-known motive would quickly implicate him. Being caught would surely result in his expulsion, which naturally meant that he would be separated from Serena—something that absolutely could not happen.

So two days later, he placed a tainted bottle of shampoo into Sora’s hands.

“Here. Put this in the boy’s showers at 7:00. Do your best to make sure it’s our enemies who use it.”

Sora turned the bottle over in his hands. “Do I want to know why?”

Yuri smirked. Sometimes, his 'student’ was smarter than he gave him credit for. He leaned forward until his face was an inch away from Sora’s. “Everyone gets what they deserve,” he whispered. “That’s all you need to know.”

At 7:15, there was screaming.

Yuri had been on mop duty, sopping up semi-dried vomit off the cafeteria floor. Calmly, he propped it up against the wall and turned to the stairway that lead to the boy’s quarters.

The screams only grew louder and more intense as he ascended, pockmarked by the stomping of people running towards the scene. He eventually began to make out some words, a mantra of sorts. I can’t see, I can’t see, I can't—!

Yuri began to climb the stairs two at a time. He knew those voices. His plan had been a success, every ounce of his vitriol expressed in the best possible way. He could only imagine how happy Serena would be.

He shoved his way past the crowd that had gathered around the scene. Three boys were on the floor, writhing; one was at the bathroom sink, cupping water into his hands and vigorously washing out his eyes. Yuri hid his smile behind his hand, fighting the urge to ask them, it hurts, right? Is this is the worst pain you’ve ever been in? Can you describe it to me?

“I’m sorry.”

It was Sora who whispered the apology, his back pressed against the wall, clutching the toothbrush he’d been using to scrub the toilets to his chest. His round face had lost all it’s color, his wide eyes reflecting the scene before him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Shut up, Yuri silently begged his 'student.’ Shut up. Shut up! ShutupshutupSHUTUP-!

The Headmistress pushed her way through the crowd, followed by several caregivers. The boys were taken away, presumably to receive medical treatment. This would have upset Yuri—he so did want to see them writhe—but he was more concerned with Sora being dragged away by the Headmistress. He continued to apologize under his breath, eyes wide and unseeing.

Yuri suddenly felt sick. He’s going to tell. He’s going to tell them everything, and it’ll all be over.

By this point, her nightmares had ceased to be a problem. But he still snuck into her room every night, worried that the night he decided to stay in his room would be the night Serena woke up screaming again. He was sure her roommates knew about him, and probably only tolerated his presence because of his magical ability to halt Serena’s disruptive nightmares. So long as they spoke in whispers and he was gone before daylight, the other girls left well enough alone.

That night, they discussed the incident. “I can’t believe Sora,” Serena lamented, poking at some exposed mattress stuffing. “I didn’t know he could something so… evil.” Yuri didn’t know what to say to that. How could anything inspired by love be evil? He shuddered to think of how her opinion of him would change once the truth came out. “When are we going to leave this place, Serena?”

She remained quiet, her gentle prodding of the mattress stuffing gradually becoming more aggressive, until she was finally tearing at it. “Why?”

“This place isn’t worth our time. We deserve to be somewhere beautiful.”

“I don’t want beauty. I want to live.”

Yuri buried his face in her hair. “… what would you do if I wasn’t here anymore?”

He mumbled the question under his breath, so quiet that he was sure she couldn’t have heard. But Serena still detached herself from his grip, and turned to face him. Her eyes were wide like Sora’s were. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… if I left here. To go live out there,” he pointed to the window. “Outside.”

Serena sat up, her back to Yuri. Her shoulders were snapped back, and in that posture Yuri saw a gallant figure, strong and capable and ready to endure the horrors of everyday living. She was a pillar, a tree with roots tangled deeply into the earth. He so wished he could be like her. “I made a promise to you Yuri, one I intend to keep. Wherever you go, I will find you, and bring you back where you belong.”

“'Back where I belong’? And where’s that?”

She turned to look at him, her eyes narrow, her brow furrowed. “Wherever I am.”

He couldn’t tell her what he’d done. When the truth came out he would deny it, everyday, for as long as he lived. He knew—just knew—that she wouldn’t want to be friends anymore if she knew the truth. And if that happened, his life would truly be over.

The next morning, the caretakers announced Sora’s expulsion for his responsibility for the blinding of four people.

The police were not involved. The children were plainly told that leaving Sora to the mercy of the elements was a far more appropriate response.

Yuri considered this. It was summer: uncomfortable, but mostly survivable. He could even survive on crops growing in unsupervised fields, assuming he didn’t accidentally poison himself. But winter was an entirely different matter. In effect, the Headmistress had bypassed the law for the satisfaction of giving Sora his death sentence, personally.

Next to him, Serena spoke up. “Was there anyone else involved?”

“The boy confessed to his crime in full. We have no reason to believe that anyone else was involved.”

Yuri nearly laughed out loud, but instead squeezed Serena’s hand. When she turned to him and saw his smile, she roughly jerked her hand away.

[asseret-sarim]

The past, the present... The future.  -Part 5

Summary: In SHIELD you are known for your charisma and your irrational optimism. Specially taking in count the irreversible curse HYDRA condemned you with. Because of that, Director Fury has determinate that you are the best person to take care of Bucky’s mental state.

Chapter 5: Now, we fight.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Y/N: Your name

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and panic attacks. Oh! And Clint’s terrible humor.

Word count: 1,773

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Now that we are back to reality after winter break, I’ve been super busy. I’m really excited that finally the story can evolve, as up until now it was all pretty much introductory. Feel free to give be feedback because I love it and find it super useful! Ok, I’m gonna be quiet now. Enjoy reading!

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Previously:

I don’t know how much time has passed when, suddenly, I feel someone behind me. Before I can react, a hand grabs my arm. All I want to do is scream and run away, but I hold terrified tears back as the Soldier corrects my position.

“You can’t hit the bag like this, you’ll hurt your arm. Try this posture. It will be way easier.” he says, still griping my arm strongly.

I nod, my breath refusing to come out, my heartbeat in my fingertips. Can he feel it? He drops his arm. He’s still too close, too real.

“A-actually… It’s.. I really… I have to go” I say, turning around and trying not to run until I reach the door. Once out, I sprint to my room and lock myself in. Once I’m alone, tears make an appearance. This was the worst case scenario I could have chosen to meet him, seeing him in action, punching, even if it’s just a boxing bag.

I realize I’m about to enter a shock and ask FRIDAY to tell the team I won’t be joining them for lunch. Once I’m sure I will be left alone, I let my emotions flow freely, drowning me in an ocean of tears, letting them overpower me for the next hour.

Y/N’s POV:

The distant sound of my phone is the first thing I notice as adrenaline and panic start to die down. I force myself off the bed and walk around the room to steady my heartbeat and breath. The phone keeps ringing, so I pick it up.

The upcoming call is Daisy’s and I remember, with guilt, that I haven’t texted her. I breath a few times in an effort to make my voice steadier, and answer.

“Hey- “ I’m cut off immediately.

“Natasha told me you had had a problem with The Winter Soldier. I can’t believe it! I’m gonna kill the son of a…”

“Daisy. Come down. I’m fine”  No you’re not, the voice in the back of my head says. Your tone begs to differ. Johnson’s not stupid, you know that, right?

Indeed, she is not “I’ll be there in half an hour. Tell Barnes he can start writing his testament.”

“No.” I manage to make my voice sound stronger “Firstly, I don’t know what Natasha told you, but I’m sure that’s not what happened. Secondly, its a two hour flight from the headquarters to the compound.”

“Save your excuses. I’m sure no one will miss a mission jet. I’m on my way” and she cuts the connection before I can complain. I drop the phone on the sofa and start considering the possibility of giving her out to Fury when I hear knocking at the door.

I analyze the sound to make sure I want to see whoever’s knocking. It’s a steady sound, produced by someone that has more strength on its middle and index fingers than the rest of his hand and has somewhat of a rhythmical pase to it.

“Come in, Clint.” I murmur as the archer of the group enters the room. He closes the door softly behind him and drops himself next to me on the bed, putting his arm around me in a protective gesture.

“Are you hurt? I wanted to come right away but Nat told me I had to let you process it for a while.” I growl. I haven’t process it. At all.

“I really…” my throat starts to burn and my breath cuts. I realize I’m about to start crying again. And I hate crying in front of people. “Just leave, Barton, OK? I’m not hurt. Thanks for asking” I stand up to open the door for him but he pushes me back and hugs me tightly.

You know, that’s one of the things I love about SHIELD. I went from having no paternal figure whatsoever, to having three men that refuse to hear a word about them not being related to me in any way. Clint has always been more of an older brother, ready to jump at the sight of someone hurting me.

He has saved me more times than I can to count and with time I started associating his smell with safety. Now, his scent breaks my control and before I can react, I’m crying into his T-Shirt. He holds me even tighter. “Don’t worry.” he says softly “I got you, sis.” the affective nickname somehow intensifies my sadness.

“I.. I just… And him… It was… I couldn’t…” I take a deep breath as Clint patiently waits for my words to start making sense. “I-I’m sorry, Clint. Its… I-I saw him and… I tho-ought I had it. B-but I di-didn’t… I-I had-d it at the… At the beginning, b-but h-he… he to-touched me and I couldn’t…”

“He did what?” I can feel Barton’s grip getting tighter and tighter with every word. He sounds furious and I realize he must have misunderstood my words.

“He just corrected my p-posture. W-while boxing. Clint. Clint, you’re hurting me.” He lightens a little his grip, but he is still pinning me against him.

He doesn’t sound furious. He is furious. “It doesn’t matter what he was doing, he shouldn’t…” He interrupts himself at the sound of a soft knocking in the door. He must recognize the knock because he stares into the door like the could actually burn a hole into it. He releases me, but keeps his protective pose over me, just as the door opens.

Of course, It had to be him. The last person I want to see, that is now in potential dead threat by two of my best friends, is standing in the door frame. I don’t even know how to react, but even if I knew, I wouldn’t have had time.

“Y/N! I’m sorry. I came to apologize for earlier… I… didn’t mean to scare you.”

Clint stands up. If rage had a form, it wouldn’t have been very different from Clint’s at this moment. He manages to keep his voice calmed, but still blood-cuttingly dangerous, when he speaks. “I don’t think this is the right time for you to be here, Barnes.”

His expression is confused for a second, but morphs to mirror Clint’s emotions as he answers “Oh, really? And who gave you the right to decide who stays in this room?”

“I did. And you should be going. Don’t make things worse.” Clint balls his fists.

“Worse. OK. Because I’m great at that, right, Barton?” There’s an edge of bitterness to his voice. “I’m not leaving until I can apologize to Y/N.”

“You already did. Happy? Now leave.”

“You can’t kick me out. Only she can do it”

Why did I have to come up?

“Leave her out of this” Clint hissed.

“I beg to differ. This is all about her.”

And I don’t like were this is going. The two men look ready to jump on one another at the slightest sound. But at the moment I’m not thinking about the potential fight. I’m puzzled. It’s the first time I have seen The Soldier showcasing so much emotion. I had seen him angry and frustrated before, but not to such extent. It was part of HYDRA’s brainwashing: they couldn’t erase emotions completely, so they minimized them as much as possible and manipulated them in their favor.

The thought, and in a way the terrifying reality that wraps it, sends a wave of empathy through me. Not of the imaginary type, pretty and romantic, but the kind of broken empathy that can only be found in shared life experiences…

“Wow, wow, wow. Someone should have told me there was a fight! I would have brought popcorn.” Of course, this could have been no other than Daisy. The to men are taken back to reality. The Soldier… Bucky, disappears after a final apology that I accept with a nod and Clint busies himself welcoming Daisy. They talk for a while but as soon as the archer decides the other man is out of hearing rade, he turns to me with a worried look.

“Are you ok?” he really looks concerned.

“I’m fine. It’s not like he came close to me at any point. But… I need some time to think about something.”

My friend doesn’t agree “Oh, no, no, no. I came all the way from SHIELD and now you are not locking yourself in your room like an antisocial hedgehog.” she smiles “You and I are going to go for a walk and a hot chocolate. And Clint, its a girls plan”

“I’ll go get my wig.”

“No, really. You’ll have time to talk to her tonight.”

“Do I get a saying in this?” I ask.

Daisy arches an eyebrow “Of course not.  Downstairs in twenty minutes. Not a second late” She says while exiting the room with Clint.

Snow, as utterly beautiful as it is terrifying. At least for me. Luckily, the hot chocolate numbs my chest enough for me not to feel the fast beating of my heart. We are walking through a park, piles of fragile white all around us. In the compound snow hasn’t arrived, but as soon as we came closer to the nearest city, snowflakes clouded our view.

Daisy stops in a solitary spot. It’s in the top of a hill, hidden between trees but with amazing views of the whole park. “What were you thinking?” She leans back on a tree.

“Pardon?” I drop myself against the next tree, sliding to the ground.

“Back in the compound. When I entered your room, you looked as you had just comed to really important conclusion.”

I look at the park. Once words come out, there’s no stoping them, I can’t go back. I could lie to her. She is very respectful, I know she wouldn’t mind, but it isn’t my style. And in the past two days… Gosh, has it been only two days? I’ve hardly felt like myself. I’m not the kind of person that runs from problems or plays the blame game. I have to find myself again, and there is only one way I can do that: with effort. I have to fight every little fight, every single day, and I’ll eventually go back to the person I was before, the person Fury, and everyone, trusted to help Bucky. And now is as good of a moment as any other.

So I’m going to start now. I have never been dishonest. Call me Steve Rogers if you will, I know Tony does. But honesty is the base to any relationship with anyone. Even with one’s self.

I’m doing this for myself.

“I… realized something. I guess I always knew it, but I had never seen it in such a real… reality. I’ve seen… the twisted, dark, painful story HYDRA turned, not just my life, but many others, into. You could say… I’ve meet Bucky Barnes for the first time. I only knew The Soldier, the shadow of a monster. But… It wasn’t the shadow of Bucky, it was the shadow of HYDRA. I feared the man, when I should fear the organization. Its true, in a way, he will always be him to me, he will always be The Soldier. I will always associate my time at HYDRA with him, I will always associate him with the terrible things The Soldier did to me. But every single time, I will have to remind myself that it wasn’t him, and then I’ll keep going. Because its true. He will be the monster that haunts my nightmares, but he doesn’t need to know that, because he never chose to be in that position. This is something I have to protect him from: the nightmare he was forced into.”

Daisy nods and stays quiet, looking at the park. After some time, she turns to me. “So what do we do now?”

Now, we fight.

Part 6 

A million thanks to @beccaanne814-blog  @annadier  @lilasiannerd  @obsessivegeekynerd @drinkfantasy @graysonmalfoy  @scoobertdoobert2  @violentlyfarts  @queenllamamama13  @agentraven007 @brutalwerewolf  @isaxhorror @katundeadd  @chrixa @i-am-mina @musichowler @panic-at-the-camisado @chipilerendi  @thesalsafic @jennymagicalheart  @amrita31199  @crazyliraz  @psm2303  @s-eabasstian  @5secondsofonedirection222  @38leticia and all the amazing people that are with me in this adventure!

[silentstardb]

The Best Night Ever (as a Clemson fan)

Seven months have passed, and it occurs to me that I have yet to really sit down and write about my happiest memory ever as a Clemson football fan. I’m talking of course about the fateful night in January when the Fighting Tigers came back to win the national championship against the Alabama Crimson Tide, our second national championship in school history. I’ve posted my raw, in-the-moment reactions to it on Facebook, but I haven’t sat down and wrote a full-length blog on it. I’ll warn you now, this is longer than something I would produce on my best writing day, so here we go.

First, some context. Clemson was climaxing the most successful two-year run in their history (is “climaxing” a word? I don’t care). The year prior, we’d gone 14-1 and went undefeated all the way into the college football playoffs. Under the leadership of QB Deshaun Watson, the violent running of Wayne Gallman, a wide receiving corps second to none, and a frothing defense that included Shaq Lawson, DJ Reader, Ben Boulware, and Mackenzie Alexander, we scored some impressive wins over teams such as Notre Dame, Miami, and Florida State. I could write an entry all about ND alone, since we played it in a tropical system, but I’ll file that away for later. We won the ACC Championship over North Carolina, clobbered Oklahoma in the semifinals, and faced Alabama for a chance to win it all. The game was incredible, an instant classic that saw both teams go back and forth for 60 minutes (football time) before Clemson fell just short in the final moments thanks to a couple of special teams plays and some back-breaking lapses by the defense. The game was played in Phoenix, AZ, too far out of the way for us to go with work for an extended time, so we watched it at my parents’ house. Losing that game stung badly. I wanted to live to see Clemson win another title in my lifetime like my Dad had in 1981. But I had hope that we could come back and do it again the next year if enough key players returned.

Enter 2016. Watson, Gallman, Boulware, and many of our key guys were back, and we added back Mike Williams, our best receiver who had sat out the year before with a neck injury. The season was an exciting one, and at times a little frustrating as well. We struggled to put away lesser teams and seemed to lack killer instinct at times. It caught up to us against Pittsburgh and we lost by a point at home. Instead of the quest for the playoff being over, though, other teams at the top of the polls lost the same day. That’s college football for you. With two regular season games left, Clemson took the field with renewed vigor & fresh determination. We stomped Wake Forest and South Carolina, won another ACC title against Virginia Tech, and defeated Ohio State in the semifinals - in Phoenix, once again - to earn a rematch with Alabama for the national title. One more chance at redemption.

This time, the game was played in Tampa, FL. A much closer venue. We were going.

I remember the Friday night we left, an ice storm threatened the upstate. Anna’s folks drove thru the night in a torrential downpour. I don’t recall if any of it was ice or not, but it was pretty bad. We didn’t get into Florida until the following day as we’d have had to drive all through the night. We put up at a motel in Savannah, GA that Friday night and got breakfast at Cracker Barrel the next morning. Then we knocked out the rest of the trip to the Sunshine State.

For once, the state lived up to its label. The sun returned and gave us pleasant weather as we pulled into our home-away-from-home for the next few nights. We stayed in Valdosta, a little town just a few miles outside Tampa, and rented a nice house with a pool that neighbored a golf course. It’s a treat to be in Florida in the winter. The night was actually cold but not terrible as we enjoyed a great dinner at Bahama Breeze.

The next day was Fan Day, so we went into town to see some of the sights. Lunch was at a really nice joint called James Joyce Irish Pub. There was a soccer game on, and the patrons would call out chants every few minutes. It was really a fun experience! Next up was a the convention center, the hub of Fan Day. Talk about insanity! We got a group shot with the CFP championship trophy, played games, mingled with some of the fans, both Bama and Clemson, and even did a Facebook live video for our friends and family back at home stuck in the ice and snow. Down in Tampa, the weather was just about perfect.

All the time, I’m thinking, “Is this real?” Are we really down here to see Clemson compete for the national championship? Could we actually win it? How will it feel if we do? I’m pretty sure that I got a bruise on my arm from pinching myself so many times.

That feeling stayed with me as we got back to our rental house that late afternoon. We cooked dinner and hung out for the rest of the evening, our minds drifting ahead to the following day. I predict Clemson games as a fun habit, and I felt like we could win this game if we played our best game and didn’t make too many mistakes. But I’d felt that way the year before. This was Alabama. Big Bad Alabama, Nick Saban and the mighty Crimson Tide, the toughest team in the country seemingly every year. Rarely did coach Saban lose a game, least of all when he had a long time to prepare. Could Clemson do it?

Monday, game day, dawned clear and sunny. Again, the weather was perfect. Comfortable, just a hint of crispness in the air, and hardly a cloud in sight. We drove to Raymond James Stadium, home of the NFL’s Tampa Bay Buccaneers, where we took in all of the fan festivities and tailgated for what would be the last time that season. Win or lose.

I remember that day was the most activity-filled fan day we’d ever been to. We went zip-lining - waited in an hour long line for it - saw the ESPN College Gameday set, and stood in a monstrous crowd to watch Tiger Band play all their songs. It kept us entertained, for sure; otherwise, I’d have probably chewed off my fingernails waiting for game time.

Game time arrived soon enough that evening, of course. I remember every detail. Gearing up in three layers of clothing in anticipation of colder weather. The long walk to the stadium. Moving through a maelstrom of people not knowing how to get in or where to go. Seeing the gigantic and bright “2017” billboard lighting up the darkness on the side of RJS. Again, pinching myself and wondering “Is this real?”

We were seated in the upper deck of Raymond James in plenty of time for pregame festivities. Little Big Town sang the national anthem. There was a flyover. Fireworks rang out along with the lyrics of the anthem, bombs bursting in air. An eagle soared majestically over the stadium. All of it felt so incredibly surreal. And then Alabama and Clemson took the field. The sight of my team sprinting onto the turf in their classic white jerseys and the legendary orange pants - which are reserved for championship games under coach Dabo Swinney - brought another round of giddiness from me. I saw Deshaun sprint to the other side of the field to pump up our crowd as he’d done for the Fiesta Bowl. We were here. It was game time. The national championship.

The game started … rather ugly. Alabama was clearly out to rattle our team from the get go. Our star players absorbed bone rattling blows from the Tide defense, a few of which I thought should have been called for targeting. Clemson couldn’t seem to find their cohesion on offense. The defense got outblocked on two long runs by bruising RB Bo Scarborough. Before you could blink, it seemed, the Tigers were down 14-0 by the end of the first quarter.

I grew visibly worried after the Tide’s second TD because we hadn’t fallen behind by two scores all year and come back to win. I remember turning to Anna and her brother and his friend, who were sitting with us, and saying, “We have to turn this around fast or it’s over.”

Turn it around, we did, slowly but surely. The offense, sputtering and conservative up to that point, began to open things up. I recall the play that turned things around was a tunnel screen to Deon Cain that went 43 yards, the longest play we’d had up till then. We scored a TD on the drive, and that made me breathe a little bit easier. We still trailed at halftime 14-7, but the offense was finding its rhythm, and our play count was rising. We were starting to get stops on defense, bottling up their ground game. We could catch them in the second half, I thought.

The third quarter couldn’t have started much worse. We lost the ball on our first series and Bama recovered. I grabbed the sides of my head in anguish as an Alabama lineman grabbed the ball and sprinted for the end zone and a two TD lead, one that would surely put the game out of reach. But out of nowhere came a little walk on receiver named Hunter Renfrow. Acting on instinct, he launched his body at the lineman’s legs, taking him down at the 16-yard line. The defense held, and Bama kicked a field goal, making it 17-7 instead of 21-7. Those four points would be monstrous later.

Our offense was continuing to move the ball and run up the play count despite little to no run game. Deshaun at one point faced 3rd down & forever, took a drop, surveyed the field, and took off running. He was about a step or two from the first down marker when a Bama linebacker shot out and smashed into his side, sending him pinwheeling like a helicopter in mid air before hitting the ground - a half yard short. I cringed in my seat when he took that blow. That was at least twice I felt Bama had gotten away with a targeting call, and I wondered how much more our man could take.

By the time the 4th quarter arrived, it was 24-14 Alabama, but we drove down the field and scored a TD on a fade to Williams. Our defense was continuing to stop them; we’d neutralized their passing game, and their top running back was out of the game with an injury. If we could just hit a big play and get the lead…

And then, just when it seemed like we had blown every possible chance to take the lead, it happened. We got the ball back with a little over five minutes to go. Gallman & Watson’s running got us a first down. Then Watson uncorked a pass downfield that Williams went sky high for and yanked down in a play that reminded me of Jerry Butler’s “Catch” almost forty years earlier. A Bama penalty and a Watson run to the sideline gave us 1st and goal on the 1-yard line. What I saw next made me break into a huge grin. With a mighty push by two of our offensive linemen (I think it was Taylor Hearn and Jay Guillermo), Gallman dove into the endzone for the go ahead TD. With about three minutes to go, Clemson had the lead at last! It was happening! We were going to win this. Our defense wasn’t going to give them anything.

The stadium was going bonkers as our guys stuffed Bama on 1st and 2nd down. We sold out on 3rd and long, but their QB got off a pass that netted them enough yards to go for it on 4th & short. They converted. Two plays later, after a crazy wide receiver pass and a 30-yard gallop by their QB Jalen Hurts, it was 31-28 Alabama.

I remember sinking into my seat, my heart dropping into my shoes. All that work, all that effort, for nothing. Bama was going to shatter our hearts for a second time in a row. It would be a painful ride home. I was all but reconciled to a defeat. But Anna and her brother reminded me that we had a little over two minutes left.

Clinging to flickering hopes, I watched CJ Fuller return the kickoff to our 32-yard line (he was a trip-up away from breaking it), and our offense took the field. I recall that Deshaun was as calm as I’ve ever seen him. After all of the punishment he’d absorbed, he still looked as unflappable as ever. He’d rallied us to wins all year. Could he do it again, against the best team in the country, with the national title on the line?

And then came the drive that will live on in Clemson infamy. A five-yard out route to Jordan Leggett. A 24-yard deep ball to Williams. A six-yarder from Artavis Scott to Gallman on a hook-and-ladder. An absolutely incredible 16-yard catch by Leggett that put us in striking distance of the end zone with 14 seconds to play. Our section was going nuts, I was jumping into the air and pumping my fists, but at the same time, I was watching that clock tick closer and closer to zero. Why weren’t we moving faster? Would we run out of time? Could we get it done?

After two incomplete passes, there came a play our coaches nickbamed Crush. It’s been dissected as nauseum on ESPN by now. Watson rolled to his right where he had Artavis Scott and Hunter Renfrow working opposite ways. Scott set a pick and was tackled by his man, and Renfrow was wide open. I couldn’t believe it. Watson threw the ball. Renfrow caught it, took a powerful shot from a defender & fell backwards, but held on, flipping the ball to the ref like it was no big deal. TOUCHDOWN!

Words can’t do justice to what happened at that moment in our section when Watson hit Renfrow. But I’ll try anyway. We went freakin’ BALLISTIC. I screamed, Anna screamed, her brother and his friend screamed. We hugged each other, we hugged total strangers in our section, we jumped up and down, we danced, squealed, whooped, and made complete fools of ourselves. And we didn’t care. A national championship was all I’d wanted to see happen for Clemson ever since I became a Tigers fan, and we were one second away from partying like it was 1982. I’m not sure I’ve ever been as delirious with joy from a football game as I was at that moment. I’m a little glad it wasn’t caught on video, but we were crazy with glee.

We kicked an onside kick, which seemed to take Bama by surprise, and our kicker cradled it after it had gone 10 yards, which should have given us the ball back. It did, but we had to wait out the L-O-N-G-E-S-T replay in the history of the game before the officials confirmed it. And so Deshaun and the offense came out in victory formation, took a knee, and the Clemson Tigers were national champions.

By this point, it was fairly late; I’m almost sure it was after midnight. But you wouldn’t have known it if you saw us living it up in RJS. I didn’t ever want to leave that stadium. We took in the trophy presentation, the post game speeches by Dabo, Deshaun, and Ben. We were cheering and yelling and screaming like we were drunk with joy. I said “That just happened!” to Anna probably half a dozen times as we hugged each other and anyone within eye shot of us over and over again.

It was probably more than an hour or so after the game ended when we finally left the stadium. I was glowing. Anna and I were giving each other the craziest, goofiest smiles on our faces. When we got back to our tailgate spot, the rest of our family was waiting, and we had another celebration right there in the parking lot. We toasted our title, recalled our favorite moments, laughed, probably cried a little too, and just had a grand old time. I don’t think we made it back to our rental home until well after 3 AM, and I’m fairly certain we all got very little sleep in what remained of that night.

We drove back the next day, and I spent much of it reliving the game on our talk radio station. Every story, every moment, every little anecdote made me smile; I still couldn’t fully believe it was real, that my lifelong sports dream had come true. My team was a national champ, and I had been there to see it with the love of my life, and my family. It was pretty amazing.

And as Providence would have it, the ice storm that had hit the upstate shut down school for the two days we’d been out of town, so I didn’t have to miss any work. A nice little bonus.

So that’s my national championship game experience. Thank you for sharing it with me if you managed to read all the way through my jumbled ramblings. I’ve watched replays of this game all summer; not a week goes by that I don’t watch the final drive at least once, maybe to remind myself that it really happened. And I was there to see it happen. What a blessing!

Go Tigers!!

[whatrosesupposes]

Vocation - A Trio

A short story written several years ago for an assignment.

I've never been privy to the lazy mornings of the TV generation. Waking up is a quick and painful duty. Cracking the sleep from my joints I stand bruised in front of the mirror, counting my ribs in the half-light. It's 5:30 am and Pilates starts at 6. Jake's still in bed, a shifting mass of duvet resolutely on the left hand side. I can't remember the last time I wanted to reach out and touch him or even to talk to him . Mostly when we're together I just sit and stretch while he sits stoic at his laptop with eyes full of hurt; his frustration at sitting on the wrong side of the literary agent's desk taken out on its keys.

This is our life together; like the north and south hemispheres we coexist, revolving in harmony, but always separate. I bind my toes round with gauze, swaddling blisters and masking the bunions until I'm left with a clean canvas. Today I will create something a miraculous to justify the theatre rental and to prove wrong the ballet teacher, who told me I couldn't do it. I scrape my hair in to submission, driving pins in to the thinning coil of hair and look deep in to my own eyes, willing success to come from 28 years of life experience. Constanze said that dancing is like dreaming with your feet and it's been a long, long nightmare. Grabbing water and a banana I run for the tube.

***

It is a perfect morning on the Westminster Bridge. Sliding in to a minor cadence, I leave the small group of Nikon wielding tourists waiting for more and lean back against the balustrade. The air is clean and it sings in my lungs and caresses my cheeks. It's that early spring warmth which melts away the winter despondency; warming your chest and crowning green beauty with a rhapsody of blossom, I breathe it all in. The change falling in to my guitar case is superfluous noise as London composes its own never-ending soundtrack of bells and languages, traffic and water. Filled with the hope of the morning, I swing my guitar round and serenade the harassed commuters who are hurrying past with the good in the world, as told by Aerosmith.

'It's amazing , with the blink of an eye you finally see the light It's amazing, when the moment arrives that you know you'll be alright'

***

09:06am and I'm still tired. 12 hours sleep, 3 cups of coffee and a 15 minute cycle won't shake the lethargy of a Monday morning. I wonder if perhaps this is what it feels like to be dying; to be slowly melting in to nothingness with no way out and no idea when it will end. Or maybe I'm dead already and passing time in purgatory by filling in God's paperwork, one author rejection at a time.

Dear Mr Patterson,

Further to your phone call, we would be delighted to read a sample of your manuscript with aview to representing your work. Please send an extract of no more than 50 pages, a briefsummary and a covering letter to the address provided along with a self-addressed SAE forfuture correspondence.

Sincerely

<>

What I should really tell them is not to do it. Not to bastardize what is likely a terrible, generic but ultimately beloved manuscript in to 50 pages which will be skimmed by a bored intern, assigned two adjectives and returned to them in a A4 paper coffin whose weight will tell them that it's all over. It takes a certain cool callousness to do this job; the ability to detach human emotions and consequence from the sealing of the envelope, dismissing the tender memoirs of a grandfather as easily as an expose on cheating at the Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling Festival.

I don't think I'm cut out for this; this temporary job is taking over my life. My own writing is suffering, buried under the weight of all the rejections as I imagine each one I address landing on my doorstep. Every lunchtime I ignore the invitations to go out and live, curling in my chair and deleting page after page of what I had written the night before. There's always stuff to delete, born out of the ashes of my relationship with Anna, pages of hurt, tawdry in the light of day, cheapened by my lousy prose and clumsy metaphor. It tells the story of a writer who cannot write, but instead destroys the work of others and a dancer who dances around the truth of an injury which will never fully heal. Seeing her each evening, contorting her body in an attempt to regain the technique which age and a drunken motorcyclist have stolen from her breaks my heart, but the words which I find are no longer a language she can understand. The tragedy of our small lives is not lost on me but bows to the greater sadness of the world.

Perhaps it would be better if I went out today.

***

The lunchtime rush is about to begin and I'm singing Jerome Kern to an audience of confused teenagers. I continue, rising through a semitone and spiralling up through every note of the scale. This is a gift, exposing them to something new which is so old and so perfect in its construction; though it's a gift they refuse. They move off leaving a young couple behind, standing loosely apart as the diminuendo in to the final lines begins and I give them the words of Oscar Hammerstein,

'You are the angel glow that lights a star, the dearest things I know are what you are'

Their hands move unnoticed, bumping together and they look at each other as if they hardly realise what is happening.

' Someday my happy arms will hold you, and someday I’ll know that moment divine,

When all the things you are, are mine.'

As the final chord dies they smile in the sunlight, bound by the song and walk away, each wrapped in the perfection of the other.

***

Inhale and lengthen my spine. Feel each sinew separate and the muscles knit to control the movement; extend, extend, extend, tipping forwards in to beauty as my leg rises in an arc towards the ceiling. The perfect arabesque. Until I glance at the mirror and see the kink in what is supposed to be a straight line. This is the gift of the accident, a pelvic fracture and a deformed sacrum. My ballet will never be the same again and I've known for a year.

God! What am I doing? Am I really going to sell the apartment just to pay for a third class theatre to put on a show that I can't even perform? This isn't vocational anymore, it's deluded. Deranged. A lie. As I stand upright, the world falls in to focus, the sun is shining and I can hear music on the street. And I'm hungry, starving. I don't even pay for the studio before sprinting down the stairs to rejoin the world.

***

I sit down on a bench in the Victoria Tower Gardens and watch a pair of kids chasing each other around the Buxton fountain. I've always loved the fountain, especially the story it has to tell of freedom and of family. Today it glows against the sky, all the roof's little tiles wearing the sunlight, sparkling erratically where imperfections in the glaze refract the light. If ever there was a moment to write, this is it.

Ignoring the manuscripts in my bag I open up my Mac. I swear I can almost see the imprints of my fingers on the keys, the whole thing looks battered and tired matching itself perfectly to its owner. It strikes me as a sad comment on us all that you can identify a person more accurately by their appliances than by their hair colour or their clothes. Seems like we all look like our blackberries now instead of our dogs, I'm just a guy in a tired suit with a cardboard coffee cup working through lunch on his laptop .

Now that it's fully booted I hesitate to open the file, not wanting to sully the day with the imperfections of my writing. But I do it, beginning to read; there's no colour here. My work and I sit here, a dark spot on a postcard picture; conspicuous in our lack of vitality, our lack of life. I start to edit. Normally I cut out anything that I would reject in a submitted manuscript, but today I decide to cut out anything which is not real to me. I remove the forced sentences, delete the pretence and the dead hopelessness, the sections where nothing happens to anybody likeable. And I find myself staring at a blank page.

Nothing. Empty nothingness.

At a loss I close the laptop and pull out the scripts. The first, a story of a Polish immigrant whose brother transforms in to a dog, goes straight to the no pile. The next, Life as the Bird Flies, catches my eye as the sun slowly toasts me by the river.

***

In the mid afternoon lull the bridge is at its quietest. Pigeons search for the smallest scrap and take advantage of the lack of traffic to shake out their feathers in the sun. I strum a few chords with no one to sing to and serenade the day with David Gilmour's melody and the words of the bard,

'Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.'

***

Who am I if I am no longer a dancer? Ever since I was a little girl I've pictured myself dancing, alone on a stage framed by a single spotlight. I never imagined how lonely that spotlight could be; all-consuming and cold, holding you apart from not only other dancers but from everyone. Swallowing the last of the hot-dog I bought, I smile at the grease on my hands and marvel at my body's easy acceptance of long-forbidden carbs. On a whim I pull out my mobile, wanting to find Jake and tell him of my realisation, but then pause before pressing the button.

How must it have felt to live with me? After two blissful years of almost sickening happiness he watched me replace him with a guest soloist role at the Royal Ballet. But it was him who sat at my bedside for a month when the motorbike tore my body apart, taking a job he didn't want to pay for private surgery and my recovery. He must hate me. I would hate me.

I've been walking a while so I sit to take stock of where I am. It's the South Bank, quiet on a week day but still dotted with of entertainers and families. I sit on a bench absently running my fingers over the inscription, thinking of Jake and how to prove to him that the girl he fell in love with still exists.

The inscription says

'Dearest April,

Love sat here every Sunday for 52 years, but will be remembered forever.

Always yours, Jack.'

***

All the things I ever wanted to write but couldn't find the words to say; words of comfort and hope for Anna, an imagined future for myself, a lovingly crafted spectrum of emotion encompassing the history of human grace, tragedy and remembrance. There is a twinge of sadness as I realise that a long-cherished dream of writing may never be realised, but at the same time I feel a new faith in the ability of humanity to survive and flourish.

I will survive and I will flourish. I yank out my phone and dial the number on the front of the script. I tell the answering voice to send me the rest of the book post-haste and schedule a tentative meeting should the conclusion match the breathtaking opening. My first book, first author and I know I can succeed. I consider running back to the office, to start planning my new life; mentally listing publishers, potential reviewers and readings at Foyle's. But I decide to wait for the rest of the script. Instead I begin to walk along the river bank towards Covent Garden determined to find Anna, and to make her look me in the eye. Tonight is either the end or the beginning for the two of us; I'm scared that it's the end, she's been so far away but I can't live like this anymore.

***

An hour later and I'm still sitting on the bench, palm resting on Jack's everlasting love letter. I'd never really thought before about how long life was, and how beautiful it could be. A little girl in a pink dress and tiny ballet shoes runs across my consciousness. I try to block out the memories, squeezing my eyes tight shut and to imagine the future instead of the past. The tiny dancer stubbornly trips across the floor, arms raised to her father and it's Jake scooping her up and holding her close, kissing the auburn curls. He crosses the room smiling at someone and I see myself, the dance teacher, healthy and happy, watching my daughter and her father together. I don't want to open my eyes and break the picture but as a pigeon brushes my leg the spell is over. I sit a moment longer with ancient love at my back and a tentative future before me and then start to walk towards Westminster Bridge.

***

She looks as though she's sleepwalking; tiny steps and a detached expression, ballet shoes dangling from their ribbons in one hand. He's just watching her. I think they know each other, or at least they used to but I can't read his expression. I'm struggling to find the right song to make things right for them. It's melancholic but beautiful, a song of hope and recovery and I can't think of it. I search her face, delicate features picked out in a pale ecru, eyes shadowed and almost violet in the sunshine. Something more or maybe less than human in her manner, she leans on the railings dangling her shoes over the drop and closes her eyes.

I find the song, Sarah McLachlan's Angel, and as I strum out the opening lines I see a tiny smile.

'Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance, for a break that would make it okayThere's always a reason, to feel not good enough, and it's hard at the end of the day'

I'm glad that she knows it, and I see him mouthing along eyes fixed on the side of her face, where her beauty is cut by a cheekbone sharpened with hunger. When a passer-by brushes her elbow, my fingers tighten on the frets, as if they could break her. I see him take a step forward too but still he's unsure. The verse's not enough, so I roll in to the chorus, pouring a lifetime of small moments in to the words,

'In the arms of the angels, fly away from here.

From this dark cold hotel room and the endlessness that you fear.'

But it falls short, she won't turn around and he's taken a step back again. Desperate I reach for inspiration and with a rush of breath I leap up on the balustrade. Someone shrieks and she turns around and darts towards me as he does the same. Feigning obliviousness I deliver the last two lines and leave them to end their story.

'You are pulled from the wreckage, of your silent reverie.

You're in the arms of the angels, may you find some comfort here'.

***

She's a body width away from me and looking at me in a way I barely remember.

'Anna', I reach a few millimetres in to the gap between us and she's in my arms, tiny and broken but all mine again. She doesn't say anything but just breathes in to me, filling my chest with her warmth. She fumbles for my hand, unsure of a welcome and I take it without hesitating.

As we turn to leave I see her pointe shoes are still on the railing. She sees me looking, tugs on my hand and with a smile she says,

'Jake, leave them there'.