#apple music is so messy for putting him in her shuffle

[nsewell]

started listening to and really enjoying bill callahan and i was racking my brain trying to figure out how i was familiar with his name and when i put it into google it autofilled with joanna newsom ex immediately AH

[cabin-7]

Did someone say solangelo???

Secret Smooches

@i-love-all-books I got you bro

TW: I dont think there are any but tell me if any are needed.

Word count:2231 short and simple

AN: this started super late at night and I just kept comin back to it so here's a fluffy as hell Solangelo fic written by yours truly. It also not been checked so grammar mistakes aka terrible writing ahead

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Nico didn’t know why it started. To most people, it was endearing what Will did but to Nico, he was just annoyed. He enjoyed kisses from his boyfriend, but not so suddenly. At least that’s what he told everyone else.

It started a few weeks into their relationship. Nico was sitting at the Hades table eating whatever he had first thought of when he heard Will walk past, seemingly talking with friends. He turned to wave and just as soon as he was facing him Will smacked a kiss onto his lips and kept on walking and talking as if he had done nothing in particular. Nico, on the other hand, was gobsmacked and raised his hand up to his lips. His head swiveled towards where Will had just sat down at the Apollo table and gave him a look that he hoped conveyed his message: “What the hell was that about?”. In return. Will simply smirked and winked at him. Nico felt blood rush up to his cheeks as he stubbornly turned back to his plate trying not to reminisce on the chaste kiss.

----

Then it became a routine. The thing was that it always happened before people showed up at the dining pavilion. Nico had convinced will to eat lunch because of it which was why Nico didn’t try to tell Will to stop. Because if Will ate lunch, he was taking care of himself, so what was a little kiss in front of a few people.

One day Jason had slipped into a seat across from Nico and was mindlessly chattering. He talked about his girlfriend which Nico wasn’t entirely interested in. He commented back nonetheless, so he wouldn’t be seen as rude. Jason was his friend after all. Their conversation slowly transitioned to another topic. 

Jason picked up a book that he had at his side. “I’m revamping all of the temples on the Temple Hill as you know,” he said excitedly as he flickered through the pages, “and I want your opinion on the Pluto temple,” he flipped a few pages back and flipped the book towards Nico to reveal messy sketches and notes. The drawings weren’t wonderful by any means and it was clear that Jason was still learning but it was definitely better than the last time he had seen Jason’s sketches. Nico wondered if he had gotten some tips from Hazel. Jason pointed at spots on the page and explained what he had visioned.

“So I think having some sort of torches would be fitting, but I don’t want it to be too dark,” he said with a huff, “I’m just not sure what to do for that.”

“Just promise me it won’t be like Hades cabin when we first came here,” Nico remarked, “it was so-” suddenly Nico heard his name being called. Looking to his left he saw none other than his boyfriend running up the hill waving his arms dramatically.  Nico glanced over at Jason who looked mildly confused. 

As quickly as he could Will rushed up to Nico.

“It’s kind of crazy in the infirmary so I have to skip lunch but-” Will started but Nico cut him off by holding out an apple.

“You need to eat something,’ he said, “and, an apple a day keeps the doctor away is how the saying goes right? That means you can scram for all  I care,” he teased lightly.

Will smiled at Nico and gratefully took the apple. “Thanks, babe,” he chirped before planting a sweet kiss on Nico’s lips that lingered for a few seconds. Not too long, but enough for Nico to blush ever so slightly. Will pulled away still smiling, “you’re the best,” he waved at Jason with a small ‘hey’ before ruffling Nico’s hair and running back to the infirmary. 

Nico watched him run off with furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t decide whether to be angry, flustered, or endeared. He settled on a stone-cold expression he turned back to Jason. He also decided that his feeling for Will could be kept in his mind. Jason had a mischievous grin and at that moment Nico felt himself grow embarrassed and the blush return to his cheeks and ears. He felt like people might’ve been staring at him, but that he was used to. It was the look on Jason’s face that told Nico he was in for it though.

“So... Will Solace?” he questioned innocently and Nico groaned, burying his face in his hands. Jason cackled and leaned forward, “oh c’mon! You’ve gotta at least tell me about him!”

Nico shook his head and Jason only begged him for some information on the boy who had suddenly kissed him. After a lot of refusals, Nico let loose the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth and looked up.

Nico heaved a heavy sigh as he balanced his head on the palm of his hand, “he’s my boyfriend,” he confessed. Jason gave a subtle eye roll and muttered ‘duh’. Nico lightly hit his arm. “I’ve been dating him for a few months. We started dating on September 15 and today is…” he glanced at Jason for the date. 

The son of Jupiter laughed, “it’s November 18th”

Nico nodded, “right. Well anyway, he does…” he paused as he thought of what to say, “Since like October he’s been” he felt his face grow hotter and hesitated, “kissing me when I least expect it.”

“Awww!” Jason cooed, “that’s so cute!”

Nico glared at him, “don’t push your luck Grace. You may be my friend but that doesn’t mean I’m any less likely to punch you.”

----

The tradition continued, every day. Nico always thought he’d expect it, but then it started changing. Will switched up when he did, but made sure it was at least at one of the three meals. He said it was to make sure Nico was eating, but the other knew better. He knew Will was having fun with it, and gods be damned he wasn’t going to upset him.

So, it was definitely odd when Nico hadn’t seen Will at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Call him a worrywart, but he knew something was wrong. Or at least he thought he did. So Nico finished his dinner wearily and even waited in the dining pavilion for a bit. People gave him odd looks. Jason teased him, but he didn’t care. He was just worried about Will and he wasn’t going to miss him.

Eventually, though, he decided that it would be better to look for Will than wait for him. So he hoisted himself off of the table’s bench and started to walk off into the camp. He decided to stop by the Apollo cabin. When he got close to the cabin he heard Dancing Queen by Abba being played loudly over High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco. There were other songs mixed in here and there not playing nearly as loud as Apollo children loudly shouted over one another.

“SHUT UP PANIC AT THE EVERYWHERE NICKI MINAJ IS OUR QUEEN” a low voice yelled.

“THAT’S SAC-RELIGIOUS TO HERA..or something-”

“IT’S NOT RELIGION IF “GOD” IS YOUR DAD SHUT UP PARKER”

Nico chuckled quietly to himself as he stepped on the porch. He wondered if knocking would even work, but there was no doorbell so he’d have to hope. He wasn’t looking to raise his voice or just open the door. 

Luckily children of Apollo have extremely keen ears.

As soon as Nico knocked he heard one of Will’s sister, Kayla, yell “QUIET” louder than was humanly possible. Nico was beginning to realize how loud Apollo kids really were. All music in the cabin ceased it’s playing and the door swung open to show Kayla with a bright smile and a lot of Apollo kids who seemed to be fighting. One had another pinned to the ground, holding a fist above her head as her brother squirmed.

“Yo! Nico!” Kayla greeted, “sorry about the ruckus, music debate night. You know how it is.” Nico, in fact, didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, “anyway, how can I help you?”

Nico could feel the eyes of Apollo campers glaring into them as they impatiently waited for their debate to resume. Nico smiled awkwardly, “just looking for Will, is he here?”

Kayla spun around and looked around the large cabin, “WILL?” she yelled. No reply. A small girl who was being sat on by her younger (but stronger) brother squeaked, “Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Another kid called, “who’s Will?” Kayla spun around back to Nico, “I think that’s your answer. Check the dining pavilion, maybe the infirmary. Though he shouldn’t be in the infirmary, I told him to catch a break.”

Nico sighed, “I’ve been telling him for the entire time I’ve known him,” He shrugged, “well… thanks, Kayla.” She nodded and waved before she picked up two pots. 

“You might wanna cover your ears, and close the door will you?” Nico shut the door and heard two pots clang together as Kayla screamed, “ROUND THREE! WARFARE!” before the music began blaring loudly once more. The bass was so strong that the cabin shook beneath his feet. Nico quickly hopped off the porch. Once he was a few feet away from the cabin the noise ceased. He assumed there was some sort of noise spell put over the cabin because he knew that if there wasn’t the cabin would’ve been heard all the way in New Jersey.

Nico pulled his black leather jacket closer to him as the chilly autumn air blew around him. While Camp Half-Blood had control over the weather, year-round campers liked to experience the different seasons, if a bit milder. Nico did too. He likes to see the trees changing and feel the colder weather kick in. Bonus: he got to steal Will’s jackets.

The son of Hades tried to peek into the infirmary through the windows but the curtains were drawn. Suspicion bubbled in Nico’s chest, but either way, he knocked. Unlike the Apollo cabin, the silence wasn’t nice to hear. So he tried the doorknob. Turns out it was unlocked so Nico walked right in.

“Will?” Nico called. There was a shuffling from a back room and a crash before a familiar voice called back.

“One sec!” Will yelled. His voice sounded a bit strained, but nothing worrying. Nico was more so worried about the crash and why Will was still at the infirmary.

Soon enough Will walked out of the backroom and tossed his gloves out before he rubbed his eyes. Nico smiled softly at him and cautiously held open his arms. Will smiled gratefully and walked into Nico’s arms, tenderly wrapping his arms around his torso and burying his head in his hair. Nico rested his chin on Will’s chest.

“Rough day?” he asked quietly. Will silently nodded and held Nico closer to him which only made the boy smile. “We all have bad days. Is there anything I can do to help?” Once again Will stayed silent, but this time he shrugged. Nico nodded and reached up to press a kiss to Will’s cheek. “Your siblings are being super loud right now. We can go to my cabin and watch TV or something.”

Will cracked a smile, “I forgot that it was a music debate Monday” he said quietly, “we can hang out in your cabin,” he took a deep breath, “that sounds nice.”

Nico smiled a bit more and let go of the medic, “wanna tell me what happened first?”

So, Will sighed and began to explain that on top of being busy, he just felt out of it. He was not only physically tired but emotionally too. Nico listened to everything he said as he spoke in a far different tone than usual. It was soft and quiet. And yet Nico knew that it was still his Will. So as they were about to leave the infirmary, Nico grabbed Will’s sleeve to stop him and planted a surprise kiss on his cheek like he always did for him. Surprise smooches always brightened up his day.

----

Nico rested his head on Will’s chest, “So, the dinosaurs are CGI?” he asked for confirmation. 

\Will nodded as he raked his fingers through Nico’s hair, “Yeah. it’s really cool technology, but I wouldn’t be the person to tell you about it. The son of Hades nodded, “It just looks so..so..”

His boyfriend chuckled, “real? Yeah, I know. It’s kind of crazy-” he was cut off by a sudden boy kissing him sweetly. Will blushed a bit but happily obliged to the sudden kiss that ended too soon for liking. “What was that for?” He asked.

Nico shrugged, settling back into where he was snuggled up, “you’ve given me a crap ton of surprises, why can you get one?” Will laughed softly and pulled the quilt on Nico’s bed up closer, “yeah that’s fair.”

“It should be a game,” Will said after a pause, “who can steal a secret smooch first?” there was a moment of silence between them before they both burst out laughing.

“You’re on Solace,” Nico said with a smirk. Will nodded and the two shook hands at an awkward angle before they both dove in for the first move of a game that would last way longer than they expected.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Ginsberg, Again

PART SEVEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of death, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: To avoid Mother’s Day, Ella takes a spontaneous journey to the park where David Lee Roth was arrested.

A sleepy Thursday at the diner and Ella was almost finished with her sketch of the streetlamp across the way. Upon doing the preliminary line work, she found it dull, so she had added a UFO circling above it to spice up the drawing. The clinking of mugs filled her ears, but the diner was only moderately populated. Luke was busy filling out some spreadsheet, stealing glances over at the staircase every few minutes. Jess was due downstairs at any moment. Near the front window, Rory sat with piles of notes and textbooks out in front of her. Having overhead Luke and Lorelai, Ella knew Rory had been tasked with tutoring Jess, who was in danger of repeating the eleventh grade. Ella did not envy Rory. She’d only run into Jess a handful of times in the hallways of school, and though they had no classes together, she’d certainly heard tales of his insubordination and mischief. Just as she had finished the shading on the face of the alien through the window of the spaceship, Jess bounded down the stairs. His face brightened when he saw Ella at the counter, immediately taking up the stool across from her.

“Okay, honey, prepare to be amazed,” he began, shuffling his deck of cards before she had even looked up at him.

She scoffed at the name, shutting her battered sketchbook in fear of him catching a glimpse of her work. “Dazzle me.”

It only took him one attempt to guess her card and she smiled proudly.

“It’s Houdini himself,” she appraised.

“And…” he trailed off, grabbing a shiny red apple and a dish towel from a ways down the counter. Showing her the empty sides of the towel, he feigned the apple appearing out of nowhere from beneath it.

Her smile grew, taking the apple as he held it out to her. “Also good. But I’m not the teacher you should be giving the fruit to now, am I?”

Jess sighed heavily as she munched on the apple. “I swore off institutional education long ago.”

She rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Nietzche. You’ll only have to get over yourself for a couple hours so you can stay in this small town utopia.” As she spoke, she gestured to the town around them.

“Well, it’s off to the salt mines, I guess,” he said, head hanging low in resignation.

Ella chuckled at his theatrics and gave his shoulder a gentle push in Rory’s direction. “Yes, I pity you. Now, go.”

.   .   .

About sixty pages in to White Oleander, though she had read it two times before, Ella was enjoying the decadent prose when the phone broke the silence of her bedroom. A smell of lavender, the plant for luck, calmed her as the candles on one of her crate nightstands burned slowly. The flickering flames were the only ones which lit the room. Clearing her throat, she sat up against her pillows and took the old white phone, sitting on the floor in the corner, off the receiver. She expected Lane, though she didn’t call nearly ever. However, Lane’s nearly-never calls were pretty much the only ones she ever received on her landline. The separate number was one she had installed herself, after her mother died, a cheap phone bought at Radioshack with her first paycheck from Luke’s. She knew she would need a form of communication Fiona didn’t have to pay for, to lorde over her during their screaming matches.

��Hello?” she answered.

“Eleanor?”

She furrowed her brows. “Jess?”

“The one and only,” he joked through the line, though she could tell his heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t hear the smirk in his voice like she usually could.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quickly, her heart in her throat. Since her mother’s death, any sign of trouble made her stomach sink, no matter how small the issue turned out to be.

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Jess. What’s wrong?” she repeated, swallowing dryly.

He heaved a tired sigh. “I’m going back to New York. Tonight.”

She was rendered silent for a moment, the information registering. “Oh. What...What the hell? Did something happen? Is it your mom? Do you-”

“Honey, just shut up for a second, okay?” he cut in, and she didn’t even have time to be annoyed about the pet name. “Rory and I...I screwed up. Tonight after we…” Jess stopped to sigh again.

“You don’t have to-”

“I crashed her car. Rory broke her wrist.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, are you okay?” she asked urgently, running an anxious hand through her hair.

Jess uttered a noise between a laugh and a scoff. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m indestructible. I thought you knew that by now.”

Ella cleared her throat again and struggled to find words. “Mariano, I-”

“Look, I gotta get going in a second. But, I uh...I got your phone number from Luke’s address book and if it’s cool I’ll give you a call when I get there?”

Taken aback, Ella couldn’t help but let out a doubtful laugh. “Um...yeah, sure. Of course.”

“Good,” he said shortly.

There was a prolonged silence, full of words Ella couldn’t grasp, feelings she couldn’t articulate.

“So,” she said, her free hand fiddling with the hem of her quilt nervously. “Don’t forget to call me, okay? No matter how late it is. I’ll worry you got mugged or something.”

“Yeah,” he said, almost fondly. “I know, Stevens. So...I’ll see you.”

“Yep. Bye, Jess.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead, and she spent one moment still clutching the phone to her ear, listening to the monotonous final tone. Once she hung up, she tried to keep reading, but found herself distracted. Why the hell did he want to call her? The entire conversation felt unreal the moment it was over, and she knew she should have asked more questions. Though she was aware the news and rumors about the car accident would spread through town like wildfire, everyone glad to be rid of the local Antichrist, otherwise known as Jess Mariano. But there were so many other pieces she felt were missing, even if she couldn’t really name what they were. She thought of how dull her shifts would now seem without Jess to argue with about books and music, to laugh with while she closed, to reprimand and call a jackass. Maybe the peace she’d once enjoyed would return, but she already knew how different, how lacking, it would feel.

.   .   .

Clutching her books to her chest, Ella checked her watch every few seconds waiting for Lane to arrive. Again, Lane had been grounded for some random transgression. But they’d made plans to meet before school and go for pancakes. Ella was too nervous to actually step foot inside the diner alone. She knew Luke would give her those small, sympathetic glances. Especially after Mother’s Day last year. Lane had agreed to be her emotional backup, joining her for breakfast and shielding her from all the dead Mom reminders. Breathing out a sigh, Ella checked her watch again and knew they wouldn’t have time for Luke’s pancakes before school anyway. She was glad at least the morning air was warm, and she could wear her flowy black sundress, covered in tiny pink flowers. She thought wearing her favorite outfit, complete with her black boots and fishnets, would raise her spirits. Of course, the get-up was yet another reason she had to steer clear of the Kim residence for fear of incurring Mrs. Kim’s wrath.

Suddenly, Lane appeared from the front door of the antique shop and sprinted over. “Ella! I am so sorry, I had to-”

“Lane?” Ella said, looking up from her gaze on her shoes with a resigned tone.

Immediately, Lane lost all her joy and urgency. Her face fell and saw the redness in Ella’s eyes, her sleepless features. “What?”

“I can’t do this today. Look, can you cover for me? Tell everyone I’m sick, or something? Get my homework?” she ventured, looking around suspiciously.

Lane narrowed her eyes and put a hand on Ella’s arm. “Yeah...but where are you going?”

A wicked smirk covered Ella’s tired face. “I don’t know. Somewhere I’ve never been before.”

.   .   .

Even the air and the light were different in New York, though she figured it was probably the multiple kinds of pollution permeating the atmosphere. The local bus had a smell like pine which was not altogether unwelcome, and she was able to finish annotations for an article in earth science class. Squealing tires screeched in her ears as the bus stopped outside Washington Square Park where Jess told her he often hung out on the less than rare occasion he cut class. Her stomach churned anxiously as she ran her hands through her messy hair, loose and wavy. Of all the places she’d never been, New York seemed the most feasible, not quite so far away, a place where she had contacts. She needed to get away from Stars Hollow, away from the memories, away from the life she hadn’t asked for, where she carried baggage which didn’t even belong to her.

Descending the stairs of the bus, Ella clutched her messenger bag, heavy with the books she’d originally packed for school, tightly at her side. As soon as her feet hit the concrete, a smile crossed her face. She was really in New York. And she’d gone all on her own, from the station to the local bus, and she didn’t have to deal with any of the Mother’s Day flower sales or the sad looks whenever she entered a room. For a moment, she watched the streets on either side, the bustling people, as the bus rolled away and she had officially arrived. It took almost no time at all to see Jess’s dark hair sticking up from a bench across the road. She didn’t need to see the other side of him to know he was knee deep in a book. Rushing over the crosswalk, Ella felt excitement rising in her stomach, though fears of being run over also thumped against her chest. She plopped down next to him on the park bench and caught a glance at the cover of his book and scoffed.

“Ginsberg, again?” she asked dejectedly. “And you think I’m predictable.”

Jess looked calm as he recognized her voice and smirked at her appearance. “Always. What are you doin’ here, honey?”

Groaning, she threw her head back dramatically. “Again with the ‘honey.’”

“Hey, I’ve only been gone a month. Not everything changes,” he shrugged, saving his place in his book and stuffing it in the back pocket of his worn jeans.

“We talk on the phone almost every day. The ‘honey’ thing was dead, or so I thought.” She shook her head, speaking with her hands.

“It’s not as gratifying when I don’t get to see you almost ready to murder me,” he explained, smug as ever.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a little sexist, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Calling girls ‘honey,’ Jess. Keep up. It’s the twenty-first century,” she said, exasperated.

Jess shook his head and ran a hand over his mouth, a nervous reflex. “I don’t call girls ‘honey,’ I call you ‘honey.’”

She snorted a laugh, missing the redness which colored the tips of his ears. “If that’s supposed to make me feel special, it doesn’t.”

“It was supposed to make you feel unlucky, actually.”

“Well, then you’ve succeeded, jackass,” she said, though she had a fond look.

Jess grinned and cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest curiously. “So, what the hell are you doing here, Stevens?”

Ella shrugged, cavalier as she stared across the park and the May breeze blew the hair back from her freckled face. “Working on my spontaneity. This was a preliminary exercise.”

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded slowly. Ella tried to quiet the memories flashing before her vision, screaming through her mind. She hoped Jess wouldn’t notice. Her heart was yearning for adventure, something positive. Anything positive. Jess looked down momentarily, mulling something over. Then, he eyed her again with a smirk on his lips.

“You wanna go somewhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“Well, that narrows it down a bit.”

.   .   .

“Y’know, it’s just like you to hang out in Washington Square Park in the middle of a school day,” she scoffed, then taking a bite of one of the hot dogs they’d bought off a street vendor. It was salty, but good. The mid-day lull had hit the city, and the streets were only slightly overcrowded as they weaved around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, chuckling.

“I don’t know. Not quite as mainstream as central park, it’s got that David Lee Roth thing. Very Jess.”

“I don’t appreciate being typecast,” he joked, watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” she said, shrugging. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Whatever. I’m not the Stevie Nicks groupie here.”

“If you think that’s an insult, you’re wrong.”

.   .   .

After a trip to the record store, they strolled along with shopping bags in hand. Jess had paid in crumpled ones, but still scored an Iggy Pop record to add to his meager collection. Still, Ella insisted he wait to buy any CDs until she was gone again, so as not to offend her delicate vinyl sensibilities. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Jess noticed the holes in the knees of Ella’s fishnets and the shine of her frizzy blonde hair in the afternoon light. The moment was so surreal, his worlds colliding. She looked oblivious to his gaze, though, drinking the city in. He felt tempted to laugh at the excitement she radiated at the novelty. Even on the subway, with its stale smell and flickering lights, she’d managed to maintain a level of amazement Jess found baffling. After a few moments, Jess chose to break the serene silence between them. They walked so close he could feel their arms brushing against each other.

“Explain to me why you bought all that relentless melancholia?” he asked, having kept quiet since he’d noticed her placing her choices on the register in the shop, punk music blaring over the stereo system. She’d bought three records: Kurt Cobain, Elliot Smith, and The Velvet Underground.

“There is a time and a place for it,” she argued. “We can’t all sustain a diet of constant screamo and metal, y’know.”

Jess shook his head, and chuckled but said nothing. In his natural environment, he was much the same, but his gait was marked with fatigue. His footsteps were heavier. She wondered what his home life was like in such a big city, where he could wander around on a school day without anyone asking after him. A wave of sadness rolled over her, and she again thought of mother’s day. They passed a cart selling flowers, and the smell wafted off the blooms in sickly sweet clouds. It made her stomach twist into a knot, her mind clouded with thoughts for the both of them. When she returned home, everything would be the same. No one would know where she’d been. And the whole excursion would be nothing but a memory, a painting she could touch but could never live again. She sighed lightly, staring ahead as they walked. Jess cast her a sidelong glance, nudging her with his elbow.

“So, where to next?”

Pursing her lips, she thought for a moment. “A place you like to look at.”

.   .   .

Litter peppered the grassy hill overlooking the Hudson river. The engines of the cars which crossed the bridge over the river sputtered with exhaust, adding to the smoggy haze of the air. Clouds had hung in the sky all day, and the air was muggy, but Ella felt light with content. She could hear the slight current of the water under the traffic, and it was oddly tranquil despite the overall grimy atmosphere of the city. People milled about on the sidewalk behind them, their designer shoes clicking away on the gray stone. The sounds swarmed around her and created a comforting sea of white noise. Jess took a seat on the hill without saying a word, and Ella followed suit.

“Good choice, Mariano.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, watching as her eyes lit up at the sight of the water. “In Stars Hollow, there’s the lake. So, I figured, here, there’s the river.”

Ella nodded, beginning to dig through her bag. “You come here a lot?”

“Sometimes,” he said, shrugging a little.

“Oh, he’s so demure,” she teased, then found her sketchbook amongst the hodge podge of items in her bag. Jess watched with a raised eyebrow as she brought out a pencil along with the book. However, she didn’t begin drawing. The weathered moleskin was closed on the ground between them, and Jess didn’t think before he took it and ran his fingers over the cover.

“Can I look?” he asked expectantly.

She turned to him with a suspicious look, eyes narrowed. Then, after a moment, she blew out a tired sigh and nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah. But if you laugh I’ll tell the principal you were the one who took all the dry erasers.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he warned jokingly.

“Well, the stakes are high in New York, aren’t they?” she said offhandedly, her eyes trained on the river. A huge VW Van rolled over the bridge, and it reminded her of pictures from the Haight-Ashbury circa 1967 in the old edition of TIME Luke had in the stock room.

Scoffing, Jess opened the sketchbook up to the first page, which was slightly yellowed with age. He wondered how long she had been carrying the book around with her. The first drawing was of a vase of flowers, but upon further inspection he found the centers of the blooms had mouths full of sharp vampire’s teeth. He skimmed through the others, similar nature scenes with various ghoulish elements. A few pages away from the remaining blank ones, he stopped short. The shading around the figure was dark, but in the center was the face of a beautiful woman, with the light shading of a skull underneath. He ran a figure over the eyes of the skull and brought his hand back again, hoping to avoid smudging.

“This one is…” he began, then trailed off. She glanced over at him, then felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She’d drawn it only a few days earlier.

“Not my best,” she muttered, hoping to deflect his attention from it.

He laughed in disbelief. “Are you kidding? This is amazing.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“Stevens, seriously. You’re a fucking artist,” he told her earnestly, staring down at the drawing.

“Well, thank you,” she said, quieting the anxious swirling her stomach. Her heart fluttered. It was rare she showed anyone her drawings, even Lane or Rory. But again, the surreal quality of the moment made her feel as though there would be lesser consequences. Maybe Jess wouldn’t remember her drawing later, as though it were a dream, like she imagined the day would feel the moment she left the city.

He cleared his throat, studying her unreadable expression. “Is it a self portrait? Looks a little like you.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips and she didn’t look at him while she spoke. “No, actually, it’s my mom. Everyone always says how much we look alike.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, a sarcastic smile crossing her face. “Oh.”

“Mother’s Day, huh?” he asked knowingly.

Furrowing her brows, Ella finally faced him. “You keep track of the Hallmark holidays, Mariano?”

Jess snorted. “I don’t subscribe to them, but I am aware of them.”

“I think they should be eradicated.”

“Agreed.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she nodded and looked back at the river. It was murky and green, no doubt polluted beyond recognition, but it still wasn’t half bad to look at. Jess noticed the way her fingers, with clipped black polish on the nails, drummed an antsy tune on her leg. He held the sketchbook back out to her and she gave him a grateful half-smile before cracking it open and beginning to draw.

“You okay?” he asked, breaking through the lengthy, but comfortable, silence.

Her smile grew a little more, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Always, Jess. It’s just one day. And I don’t particularly care about it. It’s the people back home.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, the town of Stars Hollow isn’t known for minding its own business,” she said.

“Yeah, I kinda picked up on that,” he replied, watching her pencil slide across the page.

Occasionally, she stopped drawing and straightened up a little, appraising her work. Using the pad of her pinky, she shaded the clouds above the bridge, transforming the sketch past just an outline. Jess leaned back on the palms of his hands, letting the time pass as late afternoon turned into evening. He found his mouth left with a bittersweet taste at the thought of her hours away from him by the end of the night.

.   .   .

Back at the Port Authority bus terminal, the air was chalky. The local bus they’d taken to get back to the station had a decidedly more pleasant feel than the one Ella was about to board. But the ride wasn’t too long, and she still had plenty of school work she could finish on the way. They stood facing each other at the head of the bus, with five minutes until she absolutely had to board. Jess had his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shirt adorned with obscenities and the name of some obscure punk band. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, leaning back against the bus for one final moment of escape before climbing back out of the rabbit hole.

“So, how was the tour?” Jess asked.

Humming in thought, Ella glanced up at the splotchy ceiling for a moment before returning her eyes to him. “I’ll give you a seven.”

“Hey, if it’s passing, I’ll take it,” he said, shrugging.

She laughed. “Not a bad maxim. And I guess it's back to Washington Square Park with you?”

“Guess so. It’s a prime spot to brood.”

“I’m glad you’re finally owning your narrative.”

Jess smirked. “Well, if I’m owning mine, you gotta own yours. Show those pictures to someone important.”

Ella shook her head, then stopped for a moment and reached her free hand into her shoulder bag. Placing the shopping bag filled with her new records between her teeth, she flipped to the page where she’d drawn the bridge and ripped it out as neatly as she could along the perforation. Jess watched in confusion as she retrieved a pencil from her bag, she signed her name and dated the drawing in the lower right corner. When she’d tucked everything back into their rightful spots, she held the drawing out to Jess.

“We’ll call this a baby step.”

Letting out a small laugh, Jess took the drawing and studied the messy signature, a grin coming over his face. He brought the book from his back pocket and stuck the drawing in between the pages for safekeeping. “Thanks. I’ll make millions off this someday.”

She snickered and threw a look down at her watch. Two minutes left before departure. “Don’t patronize me, Mariano.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, Stevens,” he shot back immediately, with more sincerity than she was prepared for.

Shaking her head, she ignored the gravity of the moment.

“I think that’s all motivational speaking I can handle. I gotta get back. You sure you don’t wanna return to Hell with me?” she asked, only half-joking.

“I think the moment I step foot beyond town lines I’ll be struck down by the powers that be,” he said, a chuckle in his voice, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He ran a hand over his mouth.

She sighed through her nose and nodded. “Alright, fine. But in my considered opinion, you shouldn’t let those old gossips run you out of town. Sometimes when the world bites you, you gotta bite back.”

Jess raised his eyebrows. “And I’m the motivational speaker here?”

She rolled her eyes and started towards the bus. “You’re impossible.”

“Same to you,” he called as she boarded, and she shot him one final teasing glare before she turned the corner into the aisle.

Jess watched her blonde head move down row after row through the small windows, and when she finally stopped two seats from the back, he rushed down and shouted to her, hoping she could hear him through the thick window pane.

“Stevens!”

Furrowing her brows, she found Jess standing outside her window, uttering muffled words she couldn’t decipher. She groaned impatiently and raised the glass to hear him.

“Come again?” she asked.

“I said, I’ll call you later tonight. Don’t forget to pick it up. I’ll worry you got kidnapped or something.”

A smug smile crossed her lips. “Ah, I’m rubbing off on you.”

“I avoided it as long as I could,” he shrugged, smiling back.

“I won’t forget,” she assured him. “Bye, Jess.”

“Bye, Eleanor.”

And as soon as she shut the window once again, he was out of sight, meandering back to the station’s exit. A moment later, the bus driver released the break, a shrill squeak sounding. Swallowing dryly, Ella settled into her seat and prepared for the long drive back to reality.

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 6]

A/N: Day number 6 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. 

Prompt: "Christmas is just another day. What’s the big deal?"

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Snow rests on every branch of every tree down every street of Hawkins Indiana. Like thick coating of marshmallow fluff that sticks to everything. 

(Y/N) stands by the window, a glass of warm apple cider in her hand, watching the snow fall in big white flakes onto her front lawn. 

“ When’s Dusty coming home again ? “ her mom calls out from the kitchen, slumped over a bowl of mashed potatoes, squinting at the old recipe book that has been through too many hands in too many years and is hardly readable at this point.

“ Soon as he’s done doing — whatever it is he’s getting up to with his friends and Steve. “ 

“ Steve’s his best friend, I think. Such a nice young man. “ her mother continues, then grumbles something about too much butter. 

Steve is a nice young man, in fact, Steve is probably the nicest guy (Y/N) has met in a long time. And what he’s doing for her brother, whether Steve even realises it or not, means the world to her. 

Ever since their dad left, things had been — a struggle. Dustin was just a toddler when he left, barely old enough to remember things. (Y/N) does though. She was old enough to divide her life int a before and an after. Mom laughed more, before. She was happier. More radiant. She’s still happy not, soft and warm hearted and gentle. But there’s an underlying weight to everything now. One that comes with raising a family on your own.

Dustin never showed any signs of missing out and yet, (Y/N) thinks, meeting Steve is the best thing that could’ve happened to him. She’s no idiot, she knows Steve with all his reputations and faults and quirks. He’s no saint nor is he the most smartest person out there. But he’s kind, genuinely kind, even if he’s a dumbass. The knowledge he bestows on Dustin might not always lead to the desired outcome but it teaches lessons and it helps Dustin grow and figure out who he wants to be. Steve listens and he cares about Dustin, which matters most of all. 

The headlights of a car break through the black of the night and a moment later, (Y/N) can just about make out Steve’s maroon BMW pull up in front of their house. Dustin is sat on the passenger seat, animatedly rambling about one thing or another. It makes her heart feel warm and cozy, to see her brother happy. Is her Christmas wish every year. For Dustin to be happy, and her mom too. 

Steve puts the car in park and the two of them get out, still talking as they walk up to the door.

“ Hey guys, we’re back. “ Dustin exclaims loudly, as he stomps inside, discarding his boots by the door. 

Their mom comes rushing out of the kitchen, apron still fixed around her waist and a look of pure exhaustion on her face. The kids have told her so many times before, that there is no need to cook up a feast for just the 3 of them, especially on Christmas Eve. She still insists though. (Y/N) thinks it’s a way for her to keep control and order in their life. To make sure that even if a person is missing in this family, it’s a family all the same. With feasts on Christmas Eve, and music, and laughter.

“ Hi guys, I just wanted to pop in for a moment and say merry Christmas. “ Steve chimes up, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders slightly tense. He looks much younger right then, (Y/N) notices, like a shy little boy. It’s endearing to see him act different to the usual confident rich boy persona he tried so hard to display in High School.

“ Oh Steve, Merry Christmas to you too. “ Mrs. Henderson proclaims then pulls the boy into a hug. It’s a warm, comforting hug. The kind of hug only mothers give. 

As she lets him go, he locks eyes with (Y/N) and grants her one of the rare, genuine Steve Harrington smiles. “ Merry Christmas, (Y/N). “ 

“ Right back at you, Harrington. “ 

With a wave he and a goodbye he steps back out into the snow and (Y/N) turns towards her brother. 

“ So, what did you guys do today ? “ 

“ Ah you know, just hung out at Steve’s place. His parents are gone on a business trip to Aspen or some shit — “ 

“ Dustin, language ! “ their mom calls from the kitchen.

“ Sorry “ he calls back. “ Anyway, his parents are gone for the month so we watched some movies on their huge TV. It’s insane. “ 

“ Uh wait wait wait — his parents are gone ? “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ 

“ So he’s alone ? “ 

“ Yeah ?! “ 

“ I’ll be right back. “ 

There aren’t many things (Y/N) Henderson is sure of in her life. A lot of the things she thought she knew turned out to be bullshit. Like that Santa is real. That people on Tv always tell the truth. That dads love you and that they won’t leave you behind and never come back.

There’s one thing she knows for sure though, and that’s that no one should be alone on Christmas. So without grabbing a coat, she rushes outside into the cold and hurries down the driveway, calling out to Steve just as he is about to get back into his car.

“ Yeah ? “ 

“ Dustin said your parents are on a trip to Aspen ? “ 

“ Uh, they’re in Montreal, why ? “ 

“ So you’re alone ?  “ she asks, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to keep herself from freezing.

Snowflakes are sticking to Steve’s hair more and more with every second spent outside. Like little stars in a night sky. If only they didn’t melt so fast.

“ Mmh. Gonna order myself a pizza and watch Gremlins. “ 

“ Steve “ there’s a softness in her voice, her eyes, her body language. A gentle whisper. A cautious approach. “ It’s Christmas. “ 

“ So ? “ he asks and shrugs " Christmas is just another day. What’s the big deal? " 

From a completely rational and factual standpoint, he’s right. But (Y/N) Henderson has never given a lot about fact and figures. Instead what matters, is her heart and that tell her, plain and simple, that no one should be alone on Christmas Eve.

“ It’s Christmas. You can’t be alone on Christmas. It’s not right. Come — come inside. Stay with us for the holidays. “ 

“ No. No no (Y/N), I can’t ask that of you guys. I’ll be fine. “ 

“ You’re not asking. I am offering “ 

He combs his fingers through his hair, now damp from the snow. A silence settles upon them, heavy with anticipation. It’s as if someone’s slowed down time for a moment. That’s until Steve looks back at her and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

“ You sure that’s okay with your mom and Dustin ? “ 

“ Oh please. Dusting loves you and mom has already mentally adopted you. You’re part of this family now, Steve. Whether you like it or not. “ 

“ I think there’s worse families to be a part of. “ 

And really, as she hears the laughter from inside and the Christmas music playing softly, she thinks he has a point. This family is small and dysfunctional but it exudes so much love and it the end that’s what really matters.

They step back inside, letting themselves be swallowed by a tidal wave of warmth, battling the cold that has soaked into their bones from standing outside for so long.

“ You guys, “ (Y/N) calls out to her mother and brother, “ Steve is gonna stay for the holidays. “ 

Dustin races from the kitchen into the living room, raising his arms high above his head and letting out a loud cheer. “ Awesome ! “ 

“ That’s wonderful, Steve. Now come sit down, dinner is ready. “ 

The Hendersons always walk on that fine line of having “just enough”. There is never an abundance but they aren’t poor either. It’s always just enough. And with that they are completely satisfied. There’s good and shelter and mom tries to make it possible for both (Y/N) and Dustin to fulfil their dreams. May those dreams be a new bike or a trip to Memphis with her friends or a summer at camp know-where. Mom makes those things possible if it means she has to cut back on some things for a while.

As they sit by the dinner table and Mrs. Henderson dished up some ham and gravy and mashed potatoes with slightly too much butter, her eyes wander towards Steve. And for a moment, just for a fleeting second, she feels ashamed. It’s not secret that Steve’s family has a shit ton of money. Steve’s probably seen normal friday night dinners bigger and more elaborate than their Christmas one. 

Then she remembers that it’s his family that left him alone and her’s is right here with her, laughing and joking and celebrating the life they have. Together. 

And the shames washed away like It has never been there in the first place. This is her family and her Christmas and they are enough. In fact, they are plenty. 

Dustin shovels the mashed potatoes onto his plate, without a care in the world, enthusiastically telling a story about some D&D mission he played with Will and Mike. He’s happy. And mom is smiling along. 

Then she catches Steve’s eyes again, across the table, and there’s something there that has previously been hidden. A deep and all consuming sense of calm. A soft ripple in a vast open sea. It’s comforting to see. 

Maybe this years Christmas wish, (Y/N) thinks, maybe that should go towards Steve Harrington.

It’s later, their tummies stuffed with delicious food, that the family resorts to the living room, slumping down on the couches, warm apple cider in hand and content smiles on their faces.

Mrs. Henderson is just about to sit down when the song on the radio changes, leading to her gasping in pleasant surprise. 

“ Oh Dusty, come dance with me. I love this song. “ 

Paul McCartney’s voice echoes through the living room. A cheery upbeat song about having a wonderful Christmastime. It sends a happy mood through the room and makes a certain childlike excitement spreads through each of their hearts.

Mrs. Henderson grabs her son’s hand in hers and they start twirling around the living room. Feet shuffling on the soft carpeted floor. There’s no particular rhythm in it, not one move made with certain deliberation. It’s chaotic and messy but this is their home where things are allowed to be a little chaotic and messy as long as they are fun. And it is fun. Judging by her mom’s smile and the chuckles falling from her brother’s lips. 

For a moment, whatever heavy burden rests on her mother’s shoulders, on her brothers laughter, on her own heart — it is lifted.

And then a hand is stretched out to her, beckoning her to join in on the fun. It’s not her mother’s or her brother’s. It’s Steve’s. And he’s standing there in front of her, hand reaching out, a smile on his face so devoid of all tension, of all sadness. It’s just pure, unfiltered joy. Because he’s alive right now in this moment where nothing matters but the music and the laughter and the love of a family on Christmas Eve.

So she takes his hand in hers and they too start twirling around the living room to a cheesy Christmas song. She’s no good dancer and neither is Steve but who cares right then? Who cares when their hearts feel so light.

The song changes and Frank Sinatra stars serenading them 4. 

Dustin soon excuses himself, sensing the tension, the shift in the air. Mrs. Henderson soon follows to get herself some more apple cider.

Neither (Y/N) nor Steve notice though, too caught up in this moment of bliss. With every second they drift closer and closer, until her head rests securely on his shoulder. 

“ Thank you. “ Steve says, hardly audible over the music and the beating of their hearts. 

“ For what ? “ 

“ Letting me be a part of your family. Letting me have a good Christmas for once. I know I said I wasn’t bothered about my parents being away. But it’s — It’s really shit. It sucks so bad when your own family doesn’t give a damn if you’re alone on Christmas. So — thank you for caring. I guess. “ 

“ What you do for Dustin, for our family. That means so much I don’t think you realize it. You’re part of our little bunch now. “ 

And then she kisses his cheek so softly, he hardly feels it. Not on his skin at least, but definitely in his heart. 

“ You’re a good man, Steve Harrington. You’re wonderful. “ 

“ Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. “

(Y/N) thinks the song has a point. Their Christmas might not be the most prestigious or filled with the most presents. Their tree is small and a little bit crooked and their mashed potatoes are way too buttery. But there is so much love here, radiating from everyone and everything. And that’s what makes their little Christmas so merry. Maybe, she thinks, this year’s Christmas wish can go out to her entire family. To herself and her mom and Dustin — and Steve.

Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies​ and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub​ / @killer-queen-xo​ / @william-hargroves​ / @billysgodcomplex​ / @daisyxbuckley​ / @allabouthargrove​ / @mcrmarvelloki​ / @charmed-asylum​ / @naiomiwinchester​ / @hargrovesprincess​ / @mystrangerfics​ / @teafrompari​ / @staybruuutal​ / @colourado​ / @higher-further-faster-bb​ / @ayybtch​ / @carlaangel86​ / @baebee35​

[bapyess1r]

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: SMUT! , age difference, use of substance, cursing

CHAPTER 5

Sam’s POV

The last kiss from Talia left me with a tight sensation in my pants as I crossed the street to my house. As much as I would’ve loved to bend her over right then and there, I knew I couldn’t. I never had this problem with other women so why was it that this one girl could change that. Like I had some morals… She made me fall for her in only a day and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sighed as I shuffled back into my home, not bothering to turn off the music that still played softly in the background. I sat on the couch, an extra cup of whiskey sitting before me on the coffee table. “Fuck it.” I said sitting up to grab it and drink it. Jim Beam Apple and soda… it tasted like when we kissed the first time. I groaned as the memory sent a sensation through my chest and my pants tightened once more. I grabbed a cigarette and lit it in hopes to distract myself from the thoughts and the pressure building in me. I was going to let it be but the more I left it alone, the more it started to bother me. I groaned again and let my cigarette hang from my lips. “Okay, okay! Fuck…” I said to myself. I leaned back into my couch and undid my jeans, lifting my hips up to remove them. As I pulled on my boxers, my dick damn near sprung out on its own. I hissed as the fabric graced the tip on its way down. I took a long look at it standing bright pink, painful, and proud. “Just couldn’t control yourself could you….” I lazily grabbed hold of it and began moving my hand up and down. I threw my head back in an attempt to relax, thinking of Talia and how she looked singing tonight. Her curvy body swaying to the music, the sound and tone of her voice, the light in her smile, the swing of her hips as she walked… I let out a shameless moan as smoke exited my nostrils. The ash was falling onto my chest but I didn’t care. I became more and more sensitive as I remembered the feel of her lips on mine, her body wrapped in my arms, her hands running up my chest, tugging on my shirt in a needy fashion, and then I began thinking of all the things I wished I could’ve done to her. My hips bucked from the sensation and I picked up the pace. I stomped my foot with a hard grunt the closer I brought myself to climax. I ran my fingers through my hair with my free hand and let it rest on the back of the couch as I went. My knee was bouncing impatiently as that burning feeling in the pit of my stomach began to swell. My skin was beginning to heat up. “God damn…” I whispered as my thoughts drifted to bending her over the counter, ramming into her until she cried out. With a low growl, I picked up the pace and I twitched in my hands. “Woah!” I shouted as I released into the air, making an absolute mess of myself. “Fuck…” I huffed, relaxed now that I’d relieved myself. Without thinking, I shed myself of my shirt, and cleaned up my surroundings.

I was fine for now but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last around Talia without scooping her into my arms and taking her to my bed. But for now, I had to settle for flirting and some cheeky kisses. ‘Not until she’s ready.’ I thought, finishing the last of the whisky soda. I stood up to turn off the music and lights in the house, shuffling to my room as I kicked off my boots. I fell flat onto the large plush bed and sighed, drifting off to sleep.

Talia’s POV

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, my mouth tasting like isopropyl. My best friend wrapped around my arm like I was gonna go somewhere. ‘I guess she really did miss me.’ I chuckled, trying to sit up without rocking the boat in my head. I slapped the side of Anna’s cheek lightly, telling her to get up. “Why?! What happened?!” She whined sitting up.

“I’m starving, let’s go eat…” I said.

“Can we get pollo loco? I really want some…” she asked, stretching and wiping the drool off her face.

“Yeah, yeah….” I nodded in a hushed tone, rushing to get dressed for some reason. I tried really hard to put the pieces of last night back together. After the performance, I couldn’t remember a thing. “Do you remember anything about last night?” She responded with a smile.

“Heeellll yeah I remember some things… and some thangs.” She wiggled her eyebrows and threw her hair up in a messy bun. “ I was hanging out with Marcel- that beautiful chocolate man- Louie was with Jules playin bean bag and then you and Sam went to join and play teams, theeennnnn……” she gave me a wicked grin.

“Please tell me I didn’t strip…” I whined. I knew I could get kinda crazy when I was under the influence.

“You would’ve had your tongue not been shoved down Sam’s throat.” She grabbed her face and blushed for me. That’s when I remembered…

“Shit. We did kiss… aaagghhh!” I cried falling backwards into my bed. “Do you think he hated it?”

“From the look on his face, he far from hated it, girl. You’re ok.” She said tapping my arm. “Sooo you gonna pursue Mr. Samuel Drake?” She asked in a dreamy tone. Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe he’d want someone with their life put together. Or a bit older…

“What do you think?” I asked her.

“Honestly… I think you should. I mean he’s different from your usual type but it’s the good kind of different. And… God. It’s like he’s got something you need… I don’t know what it is but I’m sure you’ll figure it out along the way. Even though I’ve just met him and you’ve just met him, the way he looks at you… the way he treats you… And he’s certainly one of the better looking ones-”

“You tryna say I date ugly muh fuckers-”

“Um, no bitch, I’m telling you you’ve dated some ugly muh fuckers and THATS the tea.” she said in a matter of fact tone causing me to crack up. “Listen. I say go for it. It’s early days- yes- but be headstrong about it. And don’t change for him. Be unequivocally you. Because you deserve someone who loves you like that.”

“Aww fren!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around her tightly before getting up to shower.

“Can I shower after you?” she asked, walking towards my dresser to rummage through my tee shirts. “Also can I steal a shirt?”

“Yeah girl.” I answered, closing the door.

After we showered and got dressed, we greeted my Godfamily and headed out about our day. Both Godparents were off this weekend and I didn’t wanna get in the way of core family time. Also, Anna and I had several things to do within two days' time. We threw on our shades as we walked to my blue Jeep, enjoying the morning sunshine and breeze. “Fuck I’m nauseous and I’m starving…” I groaned as it suddenly hit me.

“Wanna smoke? We can hot box the Jeep like we used to.” she said searching through her bag and pulling out a pack of rolling papers.

“Anais Long… How’d you know I had some on me?” I chuckled, speeding up our walk to the car.

“Bitch I’m not stupid! I saw you tuck it in there!” she laughed, running after me.

In a matter of minutes, we were sitting in the Jeep, staring at the sky through the sunroof as Siouxsie Sioux played softly in the background through the radio.

“What do you wanna do today?” I asked her as a flock of seagulls flew overhead.

“I really wanna go to the beach…” she answered, sitting up to ash the blunt to me.

“The beach sounds...fine.” My voice trailed off as I was distracted by Sam headed to the docks for his morning cigarette. His muscular body clad in a white tank top and gray sweatpants. A tattoo I hadn’t seen before was exposed on his left shoulder. Anna looked up with a gasp, lowering her glasses to get a better look.

“Very fine indeed...” she said sitting forward, almost choking on the smoke. “How big do you think he is?” She asked impulsively and I cackled, punching her in the arm.

“Jesus Christ, girl!” I giggled like a little school girl as I watched him take a seat and start on his first cigarette, repeatedly looking back at the gate behind him; like he was waiting for someone…

“Oh my god, is he looking for you? GIRL HE’S LOOKING FOR YOU!” she said undoing my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?!” I chuckled.

“Well you’re not just gonna sit in here and let him look like a lost puppy. You have to go out there!” she said reaching over me and opening the door as best as she could with her short arms. “Go bitch!”

“And leave you by yourself?”

“Yes bitch leave me by myself and go get your man!” She said rather enthusiastically.

I took a deep breath as that wave of nervousness crashed over me, even more so now that we’ve kissed. “Be strong bitch!” She told me and I nodded to leave.

I hopped out of the van and walked over. The gate startled me as I opened it up, pulling on my crop top nervously, I shuffled over and sat down without saying a word. “You know normal people say ‘Good morning.’” I heard his deep voice say as I fidgeted with the fringe on the hole of my baggy jeans.

“Sorry. I’m just really high.” I excused and he belted a cute little laugh.

“Wake n’ bake huh?”

“Yeah…. wanna come?” I asked, staring at him. He pouted his bottom lip and nodded.

“I don’t have any plans for the day. Why not?” He stood up suddenly offering me a hand. I took it and with a simple flex of the arm he pulled me up with ease. A bolt of attraction shot through me as I looked up at him. Most of the guys I dated couldn’t lift me up for more than ten seconds and he did it so easily. I couldn’t just sit and stare... I had to say something.

“I like your tattoo.” I said, actually able to get a good look at it. It was a hand of card with Lucky written on a banner beneath it.

“Thanks. I got it in prison.” he smirked, heading for the gate.

“Prison?!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah. Comes with some bad memories and what not.” he said trying to shrug it off. I could tell it bothered him though. Briefly, I stopped to look him in his hazel eyes.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I said. He gave me a warm smile and stroked my cheek.

“You’re the sweetest.” he told me and I led him to the jeep where Anna was waving like a crazy person. He popped open the back door and slid in with a grin to greet Anna.

“Good morning, handsome!” she cooed, laying it on thick for me.

“Hiya, sweetheart! Hope this Florida weather is treating you right.” he said, closing the door behind him. He slouched a bit to get comfortable.

“Oh, I love it,” she replied. “We were actually just talking about hitting the beach.”

“Ah, now that’s an idea.” he said, taking a smooth hit and acknowledging the quality of the blunt. “Even better idea: I have a boat.” he said with a slight cough as he exhaled.

“Shut the fuck up- do you really?!” Anna became ten times more excited than she already was. He nodded with a big smile.

“If you want, you could make a day of it. I’ll take you to the boardwalk.” He said, winking at me.

“YES PLEASE!” Anna squealed.

“Talia? What say you?” he asked, seeking my permission. Then I had an idea myself.

“One condition… you’re coming with us.” I said with a mischievous grin, taking the blunt between my lips. He raised an intrigued thick brow before returning the smile.

“Sounds like a deal. I’ll call up Marcel. I’m sure there’s still some food and booze left over from last night.”

“You still wanna drink?” I said looking surprised. “Old man like you still tryna kick it.”

“Listen I’m only 42. I can hang, alright.” he chuckled.

“42 THE FUCK WHERE?!” Anna exclaimed, hanging over the passenger seat. “YOU LOOK 30!”

“You’re too kind, please! Keep talkin’.” He smirked as Anna took her hit.

“Well, we need to stop and get her swimsuit from the hotel.” I said, as I watched them exchange the blunt.

“Okay. That gives me a bit of time to get everything ready. Maybe grab some ice for the cooler-”

“I got it. Don’t worry about that.” Anna nodded.

“Alright then! Well, I guess I should get started. See you ladies in an hour?”

“More than enough time.” she smiled at him.

“I love how you two just planned my whole day for me.” I chuckled, turning in my seat to start the jeep. I rolled the windows down as he got out and he stopped at my window, brushing his hand against my arm gently.

“Be safe driving, okay?” he said, quite vulnerably actually. My breathing hitched and I nodded my head as I stared into his bright eyes. He smiled kindly and patted the hood of the car to send me off before walking towards his house, lighting another cigarette.

I turned my head to back out, just to be met with Anna's large ‘tarded smile.

“God you’re such a crackhead.” I chuckled as she danced in her seat.

“He likes you, he likes you!” she sang, making me laugh. And she continued. “He likes yo booty, he wanna touch it-”

“OH MY GOD!” I screamed in laughter as we started for the hotel.

[bamby0304]

Apple of my Eye- Ch.17

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Sam and Dean were pulled back into their world, you were left behind. Stuck in the hustle bustle of Hollywood life, you have no choice but to play along, leaving almost all of your old life behind. Seven years later, when a rip in time and space opens up, you are finally able to go home… but you don’t go alone.

A/N: Thank you @moonlitskinwalker for helping me out :)

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex. Explicit language.

Bamby

“What if Jack never comes back?”

“He will.”

“What if he finds a new home?”

“He won’t.”

“We found a new home… he could, too.”

“He’ll be back,” you assured Dakota as she followed you around the bunker as you carried folded laundry to everyone’s rooms.

She sighed, “How do you know? Sam and De are worried about him. Castiel is looking for him. How do you know he’ll be back?” she asked as you set a pile of flannel shirts on Sam’s bed. “How do you know he’ll be okay?”

Plopping the clothes basket on the floor, you knelt down in front of her. “Dean and Sam and strong. They’ve saved the world a hundred times, and they will save it a hundred more. I know that, because I’ve seen it. And I know Jack will be back because Sam and Dean care about him, he’s family, and they won’t stop until he’s safe and sound.”

She looked down at the ground, still unconvinced. “How do you know Sam and De will be okay?”

“Because I believe in them.” You reached out to lift her chin so she’d meet your gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then trust me when I say, everyone is going to be fine.”

Sam had given you the keys to one of the cars in the bunker’s garage. Keeping you and Dakota busy, you headed into town to check out the school. Classes were starting soon, and even though you felt like you should discuss it with Dean, you decided to enrol Dakota then and there.

“You excited about your new school?” you asked as you drove back to the bunker.

Dakota shrugged, looking out the window. “Will I have to go every day?”

“Not on the weekends.”

“Will I be there all day?”

“Not all day, no. You will have to wake up a little earlier, but then Dean will drive you to school.”

Gasping with excitement, she spun in her seat to face you. “Will he take me in Baby?”

“Probably, yeah.” You nodded. “But there are rules. No driving fast, and you have to be strapped in.”

“We can’t go fast sometimes?”

She was Dean’s girl, through and through. The pie, the music, the fashion, the love for cars. People use to make a few comments, especially Jared. He would mostly joke, but some people were concerned you were taking work home, or letting Dakota watch the show. No one suspected the truth, and why would they?

“I’m not going to say no, but I’m not going to say yes,” you answered. “Maybe on special occasions. But safety comes first.”

“Safety first.” She nodded firmly.

As the conversation died, you turned your attention back to the road, focusing on getting you both home. You wondered if Dean would mind, that you enrolled her in school. That made you wonder how you were going to explain your situation.

Dakota didn’t know Dean was her father. For most of her life, he hadn’t been around, hell he didn’t even know about her. If people figured it out, if you told people, it could confuse things. You weren’t even sure if you wanted Dakota to know yet.

“Hey Mum?”

“Yeah honey?”

“You think De and Sammy are okay?”

“I’m sure they’re just fine.”

“Hi.”

You turned on your heels in the library and came face to face with Dean. Without thought, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, pulling him close.

“Thank God.”

“Nah, just Smash.”

“Huh?”

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he pulled back. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Looking over his shoulder, he gestured to the doorway that led to the bedrooms. “Dakota in bed?”

Sighing, you nodded. “Took a while, but I eventually managed to get her to sleep.”

“Rough day?”

“Understatement,” you scoffed as he grabbed your hand and started to lead you towards the kitchen. “When Dakota woke up and you guys were gone… she freaked out. I had to sit her down and explain that you were out for work again. But you didn’t come back when I thought you would, and she could see me getting nervous, so…”

“Things got messy. Didn’t go as planned,” he explained. “And then there was this girl.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him.

“Not like that.”

“I didn’t think like that.”

“Then why are you looking at me?”

“Because you didn’t call or text, and I got worried, and now I’m finding out you were with some girl.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he insisted.

“And I’m not saying it was, I’m just saying… why didn’t you call, or text?”

“Because I was dealing with a demon, and then I was dealing with a girl who is on the run because she sold her soul.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nodded as you both started walking again. “The demon that had her contract is dead, but we don’t know if that means she’s safe or that someone else will be coming to collect. We’re hoping it’s the first one.”

Entering the kitchen, you spotted Sam sitting at the table, looking defeated.

Your hand slipped from Dean’s before his brother noticed. “Hey.” Walking over to Sam, you slid into the seat across from him. “You okay?”

He sighed, “Yeah, not really. Not exactly the best day, you know?”

Dean walked over to the fridge and pulled out three beers. “Well, it's not the worst,” he noted, opening the drinks. “We did save somebody. That felt good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did. But…” Sam took one of the beers as Dean offered it to him, “back to square one with Jack.”

“We'll figure something else out,” Dean assured him as he took the seat beside you. “And if that doesn't work, then we'll move on to next, and then whatever's after that. We just keep working, 'cause it's what we do.”

“It feels really good to hear you talk like that again.”

“I'll drink to that.” Dean reached his bottle out.

The three of you clinked your drinks together before taking a sip.

Putting his beer back on the table, Sam looked to you. “So, how was your day?” he asked with a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“Oh God… I thought I was going to have track you guys down and take Dakota to you could tell her you were going back home. I managed to distract her with the school, though.”

Dean pulled his drink away from his lips. “School?”

You looked to him guiltily. “Yeah… I enrolled her into the local school.” Before he could comment, you hurried to add, “And I know I should have talk to you first, but I had to do it. School is starting soon. I don’t want her to be behind. And I know you’re her dad, but I didn’t want you to confuse things.”

He reached out to rest a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay.”

“Wait… what?” You eyes darted from Dean to Sam and then back. “What?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Do I wish I could have been there? Yes, but I wish I could have been there for a lot of things. What’s more important is that I will be there. From now on, I will be there for her.” He gave you that smile that made your heart swell. One of those rare smiles where his walls dropped and he didn’t hide anything. “I’m just really glad you’re staying.”

Unable to sleep, you rolled onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. You couldn’t stop thinking about the day’s events, and Dean’s words.

He was okay with you enrolling Dakota in school without him… because he was happy you were staying.

Sure, the news wasn’t surprising. You knew he wanted you both to stay. You knew he wanted to be part of her life. You knew he wanted you close. What did surprise you, however, was how that made you feel.

It made your head whirl with realisations you’d been blind to for far too long. Dean wanting you both around made you realise that you wanted to stay. You wanted to be here with Dean and Sam. You missed your old life, and the small snippet of it that you’d experienced since coming back was not enough, but you’d had a taste and now you wanted more.

Throwing your blankets off with a sigh, you pulled yourself out of bed. The ground was cold under your bare feet, but you didn’t let that deter you. Slipping out of your room, making sure the coast was clear, you then ducked down the hallway and headed for Dean’s room.

Tiptoeing into his room, you closed the door behind you before leaning your back against it.

“Dean? You awake?”

A groan in the dark room was followed by a groggy, “Y/N?” There was some shuffling before his bedside lamp flicked on. You watched him lean on his elbow in bed, rubbing at his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay…” He frowned at you, curiously. When you didn’t move, he pulled his sheets back. “Come on.”

Without a word, you hurried over and slipped under the blanket, snuggling in closer to him.

He jumped once your feet brushed his leg. “Son of a bitch! You’re freezing!”

“I just walked through the bunker half naked, Dean,” you noted, rolling onto your back to gesture at your lack of clothes- that consisted of panties and a flannel.

Dean’s eyes dragged their way up until he met your gaze. “If you woke me up in the middle of the night for a sneaky booty call… you have my attention.”

Grinning, you bit your lip and shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here. But it might be why I stay.” You gave him a wink.

“God, woman, you kill me,” he groaned, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Before the kiss could deepen too far, however, you pushed at his shoulder. “Dean…”

“Mmm?” he hummed, trying to lean back in to catch your lips again.

“I want to stay.”

“Then stay, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “If you don’t want anyone to know, we’ll sneak you back out in the morning,” he told you before trying to lean in once more.

“No. Dean. I mean,” you looked up to meet his gaze, still pressing on his shoulder, “I want to stay here, in the bunker, with you, and Sam, and Cas, and Jack. I want to make this our home.”

He paused a moment before pulling back. “Really? You’re not just saying all of this for me, are you?”

“I’m not saying it for you, but part of it is because of you. Dakota deserves to be with her dad, and you deserve to get to know your daughter. I’ve always wanted that, and I don’t wanna take the chance away from either of you now that it’s here,” you admitted.

“You’ve always wanted that?”

Watching him carefully, you frowned ever so slightly. “What, did you think I was over there in the other world rejoicing that my child would grow up without their father? Did you think I was happy you never knew you were a dad?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I always thought you moved on. And when I saw Dakota, before I knew she was mine, I kinda assumed you’d made a life for yourself over there.”

“I made a life for her, not me,” You corrected. “I never got over this place, and I never got over you. This is my home.”

Reaching out, he gently grasped your chin and brushed his thumb along your cheek. “I never got over you, either.”

This time you were the one to lean in, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. As you deepened it, he fell back into the pillows. You followed him, lifting your leg to straddle his hips which he was quick to grab. Holding you in place, he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling a moan from you.

“Dean...” Reaching between the two of you, you slipped your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. “Need you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Y/N.”

Pulling back, you watched his face contort with pleasure as you stroked and squeezed his cock, while your other hand pulled your panties to the side. His eyes were barely open, but were trained on your hands as you guided him to your slit.

Sliding down his cock until he was snug inside you, your hands clutched at his shirt. You felt so full, so perfectly and completely full. No one and nothing felt as good as Dean. It wasn’t just his size, but it was the feel of him. His warmth. His smell. His touch. His voice. Everything with Dean was just right.

His head fell back and lips parted as you rode him slowly. The peek of his tongue between his lips made you shudder, thoughts of what that mouth could do springing to mind. Pressing your hands on his chest, you rolled your hips, feeling him pulse inside you.

“Miss this. Miss you,” he grunted, fingers digging into your hips. “Never stopped wanting you. Never stopped loving you.”

Your movements faltered as you looked down at him with wide eyes.

There was a short moment before he realised what he said.

“Shit, Y/N-”

“Did you mean it?” you asked suddenly, cutting him off. “Do you mean it?”

Pausing a moment, he swallowed thickly before giving a sharp nod. “I mean it.”

You threw yourself at him, pressing your lips to his in a clumsy kiss as your hips began to move again. Picking up the pace, fueled by his revelation and admission, you chased your orgasm quickly, bringing him to his just as fast.

“Fu-” he grunted against your lips, squeezing your hips so tightly you were certain you’d bruise.

Pulling back, you looked down at him with lust darkened eyes. “Come, Dean. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck me.” Grabbing the back of your head, he pulled you back down to his lips.

When you both came, it was on a cry. Lips smashed together, your sounds were muffled as he spilled inside you, twitching and shaking, clinging to you desperately. You bucked fisting his shirt as you rode out the waves from your high.

Once you caught your breath, you dropped to the bed with a content sigh. Dean rolled onto his side and watched you as your chest heaved. Smiling up at the ceiling, you concentrated on catching your breath.

“You gonna keep staring at me?” you asked, turning your head to look at him.

He was shining with sweat, and his chest was rising more rapidly than usual, but the look in his eyes didn’t hint at what you’d just done. Instead of looking thoroughly fucked, they looked down at you deep in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering… if that was you hinting at a breeding kink.” A grin tugged on his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“What? It’s perfectly fine. Hell, the thought of you like that,” he reached over to run a hand over your stomach, “kinda gets me hot.”

“Really?”

“Seriously.” Your eyes locked and he held your gaze. You could see the truth, the honestly in his words. “I missed a lot while you were gone, and I hate that I can’t take back time and make it right.”

“We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“I know.” He nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want all of that. Doesn’t mean…” He took a deep breath. “I love you.” When you opened your mouth, he cut you off. “You don’t have to say it. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it back. But I do love you, and I want a million rugrats with you, Y/N. I want dozens of Dakotas running around, and I want to be there for every second of it.”

“Dean…”

“I know you just got back. I know things are complicated. I know being a hunter makes it even more confusing. I know. And I’m not saying I wanna start now. And it’s not a deal breaker. If all I ever get is you and Dakota then I’ll still be the happiest man alive. But if you ever think you might want more-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you quickly leaned up and pressed your lips to his in a small peck. “If I ever want more, you’ll be the first to know. Promise.”

Smiling widely, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you around before tucking his chest up against your back. With him wrapped around you, you reached over and flicked the lamp off, sending the room into darkness. Sleep came easy after that.

Bamby

[atc74]

Little Shingles, Big Love

Square Filled: Domesticity

Warnings: swearing, Daddy!Dean, threats of physical violence (minor), cute!Dean, Frustrated!Dean

Summary: Dean has a great idea for your five year twins for Christmas, but you have your doubts.

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 1607

Written for: @spnaubingo and @winchesterprincessbride‘s Funny Stuff Jen Says Challenge. My prompts were: “What part of “not a morning person” is not clear to you?” and  “I love you but I’m still going to beat the shit out of you.”

Beta’d by: @hannahindie who always makes me smile with her comments! Thank you love!

October 15, 2018 11:22pm

“Let’s get Ella this dollhouse!” Dean gushed. He was sitting in bed, laptop open and browsing for gifts for the kids for Christmas. You had vowed to do better this year, hence the early shopping. Christ, it wasn’t even Halloween yet.

You shuffled from the bathroom, toothbrush still in your mouth to look at the picture on the screen. “Dean, do you have any idea how long this will take you to put together? This is a three story Queen Anne dollhouse. It even has a turret!” you mumbled around your toothbrush, blue foam dripping down your chin.

“Babe! I am a skilled mechanic and have been taking things apart and putting them back together my entire life. I can handle a little wood and glue,” Dean boasted, a giant smile on his face as he clicked the ‘add to cart’ button.

One child size wooden work bench for Ethan and a few smaller gifts later and Dean had the kids presents done. You had to say you were impressed with his creativity with the gift ideas, picking out items both kids had already asked for, but you were skeptical. Your husband could disassemble a big block v8 engine with his eyes closed, but a delicate dollhouse? You had your doubts. Even more so, you would probably be doing most of the work. As if having five year old twins wasn’t hard enough; a thirty-nine year child was sometimes the most work of all.

December 24, 2018 4:15pm

“Sonuvabitch!” you heard from the living room. You rolled your eyes, knowing Dean had finally taken all the pieces of the dollhouse out of the box, laying them out on the middle of the floor.

“Honey?” you called from the safety of the kitchen where you were putting the finishing touches on the Christmas pies for dinner tomorrow.

“I got it!” he grumbled.

You checked the clock and realized that if it wasn’t for the kids sleeping over at Dean’s brother’s house with their cousins, there would be no way Christmas was ever going to happen for your little ones.

You finished up the pies and placed them in the oven. Once the timer was set on your phone, you stuffed it in a pocket and brought Dean a fresh cup of coffee. He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of your living room, little wooden pieces surrounding him. It reminded you of Gulliver’s Travels. You know, the movie with Jack Black where he is taken down by the teeny tiny soldiers? Yeah, that one!

“Do you need some help, honey?” You bent over, kissing the top of his head and sneaking a peek at the instruction manual, which appeared to be about fifty pages thick.

“No! I have this handled!” He had barely even started and was a tad salty already.

“Okay, I am going to start on Ethan’s workbench. Let me know if you change your mind,” you kissed him once more, then retreated to the other side of the room.

December 24, 2018 6:08pm

“Hon? I’m all done with the workbench. How about I make us a couple of sandwiches and we take a break, huh?” You walked over to Dean and could swear he was crying.

“Uhm, yeah, babe. In a minute. I think I finally got this thing figured out,” he replied. You studied him for a moment. His hair was a mess, like sex hair messy and his tongue was sticking out between his teeth as he looked between the piece in his hand and the manual.

You smiled to yourself as you walked to the kitchen. Within a few minutes, you had two sandwiches made, some chips and some apple slices. You carried the tray into the other room and set it down on the coffee table. You handed Dean one of the two beers you’d brought with you.

“Honey, you need a break,” you reminded him, waving the beer in front of his face. He really could be a stubborn bugger sometimes.

“Yeah, okay,” he resigned and stood up, most of his joints cracking or popping in protest.

We sat down, enjoying each other’s company for the first time all day. It was going to be a long night and you needed this time.

December 24, 2018 9:54pm

You trudged your way back down the stairs after showering and changing into your comfiest pajamas. Dean was still working away at the dollhouse, bit by bit. At least he had taken your suggestion and set up the card table so he wasn’t hunched up on the floor.

“Dean, go shower, I’ll work on it while you’re gone so we don’t lose time,” you promised and he dipped his head down to kiss you sweetly before heading upstairs.

The house was actually coming along nicely, albeit slowly. You picked up where Dean left off, gently pushing in the little white wooden railing on the second story. Ella was truly going to love this dollhouse and lose her mind when she opened it. You smiled while you worked, humming softly to the Christmas music playing in the background.

“Wow, you move fast babe!” Dean complimented your work, returning fresh from his shower.

“Well, we’re almost done,” you replied, putting the tiny wooden shingles on the turret. “But, we still have to add all the furniture and it will need to time to dry before we attempt to wrap it. Order us a pizza?”

“Done,” Dean grabbed his phone and entered your favorite order into the delivery app.

With both of you working, you finished assembling the dollhouse just before midnight, with full stomachs and smiles on your faces.

December 25, 2018 1:13am

“I love you, you know that?” Dean looked over at you from his spot on the other side of your daughter’s gift.

“I love you, but I am still going to beat the shit out of you,” you replied, not missing the look on his face.

“What? Why?” he gasped, shocked at your threat of physical violence.

“Because, your brother is going to be home with our children in less than,” you paused, checking the clock, “seven hours! We still have all this itsy bitsy furniture to place, the even smaller dishes and then I have to make the beds!” You were beyond tired and there was easily another hour of finishing touches.

“Well, I love you more now,” Dean chuckled as he painted fake grass on the wood for the ‘backyard’.

“Remember how much you love me next Christmas when you decide to buy incredibly complicated presents for the twins,” you playfully punched him in the arm and carried on.

December 25, 2018 3:06am

“I hate you,” you yawned, crawling into bed, thanking yourself for having put on pajamas hours before.

“I love you, too, babe,” Dean laughed, flipping off the lights. He climbed into bed next to you, but you were already out like the lights.

December 25, 2018 8:00am

The alarm was going off. It wasn’t a work day. Why the fuck is the alarm going off? You cracked one extremely heavy eyelid to see the time. Oh shit! It was Christmas morning. You and Dean had shuffled to bed in the early hours, much closer to morning than you had planned on, all thanks to the ginormous and intricately detailed dollhouse. The thing with kids and Christmas? It’s brutal. Horrifically brutal. And you were not a morning person. Neither was Dean, but he wasn’t in bed with you.

You reluctantly pulled yourself from the comfort of your warm bed and to the bathroom. With business out of the way, you slogged down the back stairs to the kitchen, the aroma of coffee filtering through your brain and your gears slowly started moving.

With a steaming mug in your hand, you wandered into the living room, to find your husband sitting on the sofa, a matching mug in his own hands.

“Coffee first,” he mumbled, taking another sip.

“Dude, why did you set the alarm?” you questioned, sitting down next to him. “What part of “not a morning person” is not clear to you?”

What?” he groaned, not taking his eyes off the mug he was holding like a lifeline.

“On our first date, I told you I wasn’t a morning person. What part of that did you forget when you ordered that contraption for our daughter?” I exclaimed, leaning back into the soft cushions.

“Oh, I didn’t forget. But it’s always easier to beg for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission with you,” he turned his head, smiling at you. “You’re welcome for the coffee, by the way.”

“Mom! Dad! We’re home! Merry Christmas!” The children burst through the door, Dean’ brother, Sam, trailing behind with their bags.

“Was Santa here?” Ella ran toward you and Dean. Her eyes going wide at the site of the gifts spilling out from under the blue spruce.

“Can we open presents?” Ethan asked, jumping between you and Dean.

“Ethan, look!” Ella pointed toward the tree as she climbed into her daddy’s lap.

“Maybe they get that whole morning person thing from your brother,” you shrugged and welcomed your little ones home.

“Who wants to open presents?” Dean stood, one kid hanging from each arm.

“ME!” they answered in unison.

All the hours, the splinters and sore muscles were worth seeing the looks on their shining little faces when they opened their presents.

“I love you,” I whispered, reaching for his hand.

“I know,” he said, taking it with his own. “Merry Christmas.”

The Whole Enchilada: @closetspngirl @emoryhemsworth @iwantthedean @meganwinchester1999 @sis-tafics @wilde-abandon @wegoddessofhell @holyfuckloueh @horsegirly99 @smoothdogsgirl @dolphincliffs @neeadinghugs @roxyspearing @theoriginalvicki @andkatiethings @mrswhozeewhatsis @linki-locks11 @evansrogerskitten @hennessy0274-blog @hobby27 @kdfrqqg @gh0stgurl @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @the--blackdahlia @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @roseblue373 @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @cherrycokegirls1 

The Dean’s List / Jensen’s Jamboree: @supernatural-jackles @dean-winchesters-bacon @cameronbraswell @docharleythegeekqueen @maddiepants @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @wingedcatninja  @akshi8278 @kathaswings @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x  @elara98azalea @jerkbitchidjitassbutt 

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Next entry for @badthingshappenbingo​!

Reminder that I am still accepting prompts for this! Check out my initial post (linked in my blog desc) for the guidelines. Also note the current bingo card on this post–the things I mark with crossbones are completed prompts, and ones with a single bone are ones that have been requested, but not written yet.

(Fics are also posted to AO3 and FFN, but please just use the links in my blog desc to get to those ‘cuz I’m too tired to make links for them.)

Aaand here’s our next prompt, submitted by @specspectacle​! This one is quite a bit more lighthearted than my other ones. I hope you like it!

Prompt: Damaged Vocal Cords Characters: Imelda Rivera, Héctor Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, pre-movie

Héctor and Imelda had only been married for a few weeks now, and Imelda was embarrassed to find Héctor already seeing her in an awful state—that is to say, Imelda was sick.

True, they’d known each other since they were kids, but whenever she’d caught an illness, she had stayed indoors with her parents taking care of her. Now, it was just her and Héctor. Before, he’d always insisted how beautiful she was. Now… well, she couldn’t imagine she looked all that wonderful with her dripping nose, pale face, and messy hair.

“Ay, I’m fine, mi amor,” Imelda croaked for the dozenth time, just before she sneezed again into her already-soiled handkerchief.

“Shh, don’t worry about it,” Héctor replied, gently brushing her hair away from her face. Her braid had come loose again and she was too tired to fix it up. “You’ll be over this soon.”

Still she found herself glancing away from him as she wiped her nose. Ever since she’d woken up that morning, she’d kept thinking back to the things the other women of Santa Cecilia warned her about—how as wonderful as Héctor seemed now, that would all change when he saw her at her worst, when she wasn’t pretty. She’d brushed it off then—Héctor had never, ever been like one of those men—but now, with how awful she felt, she found herself muttering, “I suppose I’m not exactly the beautiful woman you married, am I.”

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and winced when he gave a startled “what?” But rather than being angry, he went on: “Are you kidding? You’re as beautiful as the day I met you, mi amor.”

Imelda paused, and turned to give him a look, but Héctor only grinned—a genuine smile, not a mocking one. She could feel how damp her hair and skin was from the sweat, and her nose was starting to drip again, and she truly, honestly had no idea what he was looking at. But seeing him smiling at her like an idiot even when she looked like a disaster, she found herself dissolving into tired laughter.

Unfortunately the stupid sickness had to make itself known again, and her laughter turned to dry coughs.

Héctor’s hand was immediately at her back, rubbing gentle circles until the coughing fit subsided. Groaning, Imelda rubbed her upper chest. “Weren’t you supposed to be playing with Ernesto today?”

“That can wait. I think I’ll make us some tea now—maybe it’ll soothe your throat.”

And so the next few days continued like that, Héctor spending much of his time taking care of her while they waited for the sickness to pass. He made her hot drinks to ease the pain in her throat, and with her help made some simple broths that she could easily swallow with her throat swollen as it was. Sometimes he would even bring out his guitar, playing and singing her favorite songs to lift her spirits.

He did go out to play with Ernesto when Imelda insisted that he needed to work, but evidently he found it difficult to focus, and would often leave early to be with Imelda again. This, of course, didn’t sit well with Ernesto, and a few times the other músico begged for him to come back and play “just a few more songs.” Héctor had already taken a break from playing music with his friend while he spent his first married week entirely with his wife, and he’d only just gone back to playing music in the plaza when Imelda had gotten sick. While part of Imelda felt bad for keeping Héctor distracted from his work (and part of Héctor certainly felt bad about that as well), she was grateful he considered her more important than his music.

The sickness lasted a few days, and while the symptoms had finally started to fade, the constant dry coughing had taken its toll on her throat. It still hurt to swallow, and her voice had been rough already, but then she woke up one morning to something she hadn’t expected.

“Buenos dias,” was what she’d meant to say when she saw him stirring by her side. What came out instead was a breathy croak that hurt her throat to force out.

Immediately she put a hand to her mouth, blinking in surprise, and tried again to speak, only for a barely-comprehensible squeak to come out instead.

Héctor, meanwhile, opened his eyes, and looked like he was about to smile at her before he saw the look of consternation on her face. “Imelda?” he asked, pushing himself up on his elbow. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t know, she tried to answer, but her sore throat wouldn’t let the words come out.

Now Héctor was sitting upright, looking down at her in worry. “What happened to your voice?”

Imelda tried to speak again, only to break down into dry coughs. Wait… was that it? The coughing had worn her voice thin? She hoped that was all it was, anyway. Biting her lip, she sat up in bed, holding out her left hand flat, and making a writing motion on it with her right hand.

“Hm? Oh! Sí, un momento.” Scrambling out of bed, Héctor stumbled over to his writing desk, shuffling through the piles of loose papers before finally finding a blank one. He then came back with a pencil, a sheet of paper, and a book for a flat surface to write on. “Is it your throat?” he asked, handing her the items.

She nodded, brow furrowing before she wrote: Do you think this is permanent?

Reading over the paper, Héctor looked just as worried. “I… don’t know. I don’t think so?” He thought it over, then perked up. “Oh! Wait, wait, this happened to my… my papá once, when I was little. His voice was gone for a few days, so he couldn’t shout orders at work.”

We could send for a doctor—

“Eeeeeehhh…”

Imelda rolled her eyes. Did he always have to be this way about doctors?

“Look, Imelda, my papá got his voice back then, and I’m sure you’ll get your voice back soon, too. You just need to rest for a few more days and you’ll be good as new. All right?”

Heaving a sigh, she nodded. She would like to get back to work rather than sitting around all day, but she supposed she couldn’t exactly go to the market if she couldn’t talk with the shopkeepers. …Oh! Quickly she scribbled onto the paper: We do need to go to the market today.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it!” Héctor insisted. “Just write a list of the stuff we need and I’ll grab it for you. Now c’mon, let’s get you something warm to drink.”

Aside from not being able to talk, the morning was pleasant enough. Warm sunlight shone in through the windows, Héctor managed to make a decent breakfast for the both of them (the last of their eggs and a couple pieces of fruit, though Imelda was unable to finish her apple), and the tea did soothe her throat a little, even if it didn’t heal enough to talk. After that, they spent the morning together to finish some of the chores Imelda was able to do, and getting together a list of things that Héctor would need to pick up at the market. He asked if she would like for him to play any music for her, but she declined—they could do that later when Héctor came back, so he left his guitar sitting by the door.

When Héctor finally left, Imelda rested on a chair by the window. For a short while she tried to read a book, but found it was putting her to sleep. Shrugging, she set the book aside and leaned into the chair, allowing herself to doze. Maybe a brief nap would do her some good while she waited for Héctor to return.

A few minutes later, the door flew open with a bang.

At first Imelda thought that Héctor must have forgotten something, but he never slammed the door open like that. For a split second she felt a jolt of panic, wondering what might have happened to make him rush back in like that so shortly after he’d left, when she heard a voice call out:

“Héctor!”

Rolling her eyes, Imelda stood up from her chair and turned to see that Ernesto had barged into the house, and was frantically looking around. “Héctor?” he called again before his eyes fell on Imelda. “Do you know where he is?”

Imelda’s first instinct was to ask him what he was doing, coming in uninvited like that, but when she opened her mouth, he immediately cut her off.

“I don’t get this whole thing about needing to take care of you,” Ernesto muttered, looking her up and down. “You look fine to me. He can’t keep up that excuse.” With that he marched toward the kitchen, leaving Imelda dumbfounded.

Well, it wasn’t like she would’ve been able to say anything to him, anyway. She briefly considered grabbing some paper to write on, but leaving Ernesto alone for a moment too long sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she followed the man into the kitchen as he continued to rant, still searching for her husband.

“Honestly, if he keeps ducking out of his responsibility, he’s going to get rusty.” He turned to peer out the kitchen window, looking for Héctor in the courtyard in spite of the fact that Ernesto had just walked through it. “How are we supposed to become world-renowned musicians if he’s not playing every day?”

Playing still counts even if he’s not playing for a crowd, Imelda thought, wishing she could say it out loud. Ay, he’d only been there for barely a minute and he was already grating on her nerves.

“This is ridiculous,” Ernesto growled, turning away from the window. Imelda tried to approach him, but he took no notice, walking right past her and striding to the bedroom. “Héctor! Are you in there? Don’t tell me you’ve slept in!”

Anger burning in her chest, Imelda hurried up to him. The bedroom was not clean—they hadn’t bothered making the bed that morning, Héctor’s desk looked like a very large book had exploded over it, and the rest of the room was cluttered. Not to mention, it was their bedroom. Don’t you dare barge into the—

“If you don’t wake up right now I’m going to drag you to the plaza myself.” With that, he threw open the bedroom door and walked in. Fuming, Imelda followed him.

Not finding Héctor there, Ernesto breathed a frustrated sigh. “This is getting ridiculous, where could he—” He broke off into a yelp when Imelda suddenly stepped in front of him abd shoved him back out into the hall. “Dios mio, mujer, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She leaned against the door frame, unimpressed, and sharply gestured out the door. Stay out of our bedroom. And the house, please.

“You could have at least said something,” Ernesto went on, brushing himself off and turning away. But rather than turning to leave, he headed toward the guest bedroom instead. “Where is he?”

What—no! Get out! Imelda followed him as he peered into the empty bedroom, and yanked on one of his suspenders.

Yelping, Ernesto spun around and blinked at her in bewilderment. “What’s wrong with you?” he cried, reaching back to re-adjust his suspender. “Tell me, Imelda—where is your husband?”

Imelda crossed her arms once and then pointed in the direction of their front door. He’s not here, idiota! Get out of our house!

“Oh, out there?” Walking past her, Ernesto opened the front door. Instead of leaving, however, he peered around the courtyard. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Fighting the strong desire to grab the nearest object and crack it over his thick skull, Imelda buried her face in her hands for a moment before stomping her foot to get the man’s attention. When he finally looked back at her, she drew in a breath, and tried again to speak: Héctor is not here, she wanted to say, but her voice came out in a few breathy squeaks.

Ernesto stared at her for a long moment, as though looking at a particularly tricky line of sheet music, and finally his eyebrows flew up in recognition. “You can’t speak, can you?”

Imelda stared at him in exasperation. No, she mouthed.

“So that’s why you’ve been following me around like a stray dog instead of saying anything,” he mused, rubbing his chin. “I was thinking you’d missed me.”

Missed him?! She’d just gotten married! Why would she miss hanging out with another man?! Unable to protest, she gave him the best expression she could to convey the anger and frustration she felt.

Still Ernesto continued to look her over, eyes narrowing as the gears turned in whatever rusty contraption passed as a brain for him. Something seemed to click, and his face brightened. “Well then,” he said, a seemingly-genuine smile crossing his features. “I suppose Héctor would appreciate it if I stayed here to help take care of his sick wife.”

Qué.

“Knowing him, he won’t be out for long. Hopefully. But until he returns, I don’t suppose he’d mind if I made myself at home.” With that, he walked back into the kitchen, leaving Imelda with her mouth agape.

Oh, you have got to be kidding. Gritting her teeth, Imelda followed him into the kitchen to find him opening their cabinets and hunting around their table. He spotted an apple sitting on the table and snatched it up, taking a bite. It was their last one, but at least Héctor would be getting some more at the market��it was more frustrating to see him helping himself to their food uninvited. Still, she waited for him to finish eating before tapping him on the shoulder and pointing firmly in the direction of the door.

“Hmm?” he asked, setting the apple core on the table. “Is there something you want to show me, señora?”

Sí. THE DOOR. Pointing again, she eyed him until he turned to look where she was pointing. She relaxed as she watched him finally make his way to the door again, and turned to dispose of the garbage he’d left behind.

“What was it you… oh!”

To Imelda’s confusion, she heard the sound of something heavy being lifted off the floor, and her eyes widened in horror. No, idiota, you know that’s not what I meant—! Hurrying back out of the kitchen, she found Ernesto standing there, holding up Héctor’s guitar and tuning it.

“Of course, Imelda, I’d love to play some music for you.” Flashing her a smile, he pulled the guitar strap over his shoulder and began to strum a few chords. “Do you have any requests?”

Imelda grit her teeth. Sí, for you to go away! She pointed at the guitar and gestured back to the side of the door, where Héctor had left it.

Ernesto ignored her, looking off to the side as he began to think something over. “Let’s see… what was the one you liked? Ah, La Llorona, right?”

Blinking, Imelda stepped back. She hadn’t expected him to remember she’d liked that one—it was one of the first songs she’d heard Héctor play. Perhaps allowing Ernesto to show off a little wouldn’t be too bad. It would certainly be less annoying than anything else he’d been doing. She nodded at him.

“Very well.” Ernesto played a few opening chords, closing his eyes as he began to sing, “Ay, de mi Llorona… Llorona de azul celeste…”

With a soft sigh, Imelda took a seat on a nearby chair. If she couldn’t get rid of him, she might as well enjoy the music.

“Y anque la vida me cue—hey,” Ernesto said, opening one eye and glancing over at her, “you’re not singing along.”

She gave him a deadpan look.

Shrugging, Ernesto pressed his hand against the guitar strings to break off the music. “Well, since you can’t sing along to your favorite songs, perhaps I can sing something different.”

Oh, wonderful. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. No, she mouthed, but of course that wouldn’t stop this great idiot.

“Perhaps a more romantic song?” Strumming a few more opening chords, Ernesto cleared his throat to begin a different song. “Everyone knows Juanita…”

AAGH! No, not that one! Imelda waved her arms in a request to stop, but of course Ernesto ignored it as he continued singing the awful song. Part of her wanted to grab her shoe and beat him over the head with it, but she’d hate for Héctor to come home to a sight like that. What kind of person would he think he’d married, if he found her attacking his best friend? She’d just put up with it for now, until Héctor came home.

She just hoped that would happen soon.

“…and so, I became more of a mentor to him, you know?”

Imelda dragged her hands over her face. Ernesto had given up halfway into the third dirty song, and she was frankly impressed he’d lasted that long, given how much he depended on an eager audience for his songs. Now, though, she almost wished he had kept it up, because his singing voice was at least marginally more pleasant to listen to than his normal voice.

Especially when he was rambling about himself.

“Of course, we are still best amigos and always have been, but I taught him everything he knows.”

No you didn’t. He taught you how to play the guitar when he was five. I know. I was there. Not that it would make any difference, since Ernesto seemed lost in his own world as he rambled about his warped version of his own life to Imelda, as though she didn’t already know a great deal of it.

Just when she was certain he would never shut up, the front door opened and Héctor stumbled into the room, carrying several baskets full of food. “¡Lo siento, mi amor! I didn’t mean to take so long, but—” He paused, noting that two people were in the room. “Ernesto? What are you doing here?”

Imelda thought she would never be more happy to see her husband again. But just as she stood to greet him, Ernesto stood as well, already reaching out to help him. “Ah, hermanito,” he said, quickly taking some baskets from his friend, who sighed in relief. “I was just paying your wife a visit! I wanted to play her a few songs to lift her spirits.”

You lying little—!

“Oh, that’s great!” Héctor said, smiling at his friend. “Good to know you’re there to help us, amigo. Hang on…” He rushed into the kitchen to set the baskets down, and hunted through them for a moment before pulling out a couple beef empanadas and rushing to bring one over to Imelda. “Here! I grabbed something for the both of us.”

Her anger over Ernesto’s pestering quickly melted away as she took the food, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her husband (she didn’t want him to get sick after all of this). Instead, she leaned in to give him a side-hug, which he gratefully accepted.

The hug only lasted for a few moments before Imelda could sense a certain persistent moron behind her. She found herself tensing in annoyance, and Héctor looked up.

“Not to interrupt, this uh…” Ernesto gestured at the two vaguely before shrugging. “But Imelda seems to be doing a lot better now, aside from her voice. Don’t you think she’ll be fine on her own, now, without you needing to interrupt our music to check on her?”

Imelda wrapped her free arm around her husband more tightly, partly to keep herself from slugging Ernesto.

“Eeeehh… I don’t know, Ernesto. I’d like to give it another day or two, just until she’s mostly better.”

“You can’t keep slacking off like this—”

“I’m not slacking off!” Sighing, Héctor looked down at Imelda. “What do you think, mi amor? Should I go back to the plaza now, or would you like me to stay home a little longer?”

Under different circumstances, Imelda would have said no—while her voice was gone, she was mostly fine otherwise, and didn’t really need help on her own. On the other hand… She took a quick glance at Ernesto and nodded, pulling closer to Héctor.

“That settles it, then. Lo siento, Ernesto, but you’ll have to give us a few days.”

“I—!” Ernesto seemed to puff up for a moment, like a rooster that was about to start squawking, but he looked between the two and quickly deflated. “Fine, fine. But in two days, then! In two days, the plaza will once again hear the music of Ernesto y Héctor!”

Imelda rolled her eyes, but Héctor laughed. “Of course. I’ll see you then! ¡Adios!”

Finally Ernesto left. Imelda let out a sigh, leaning into Héctor, who gratefully leaned back for a moment before pulling away, holding out the empanada still in his hand. “Well, now that that’s done, are you hungry?”

Imelda nodded, following Héctor over to the table to eat. Part of her wanted to tell Héctor just how infuriating Ernesto had been, but she couldn’t anyway, and honestly she really didn’t want to make Héctor feel bad, especially when he was going out of his way to help her.

Besides… it wasn’t like she couldn’t confront Ernesto on her own later.

A couple days later, Imelda’s voice had mostly returned, and, as promised, Héctor had gone out to meet Ernesto in the plaza, Imelda joining him. To both their surprise, Ernesto had been leaving them alone. Héctor took it to mean his friend was respecting their wishes, while Imelda wondered if Ernesto had realized that she might confront him once she had her voice back, and was deliberately avoiding them. She supposed they would soon find out.

…Possibly.

Héctor walked in a circle, head twisting this way and that as he scrutinized the plaza. “That’s strange… Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Imelda replied, her voice still a little rough but mostly better. “Wasn’t he supposed to meet you here?”

“Sí… He could have forgot—no, he was asking nearly every day. He wouldn’t have…” He spun around, giving Imelda a worried look. “Do you think something happened to him?”

I think he might be hiding, Imelda thought, but shook her head. “Perhaps he’s still at home. Should we check?”

Already heading in the direction of Ernesto’s house, Héctor nodded, and Imelda followed. It didn’t take them long to get there, and Héctor immediately began knocking on the door. “Ernesto?”

Imelda waited patiently, not quite as worried as her husband, but curious if Ernesto really was hiding, or if something else was at play. She perked up at the sound of slow footfalls within—so he was home. Good. Now she could finally give him a piece of her mind.

Héctor seemed a little relieved, looking over at Imelda to say something before they both heard familiar wracking coughs on the other side of the door.

…Well, that was interesting.

Finally the door opened, and a very tired, very pale Ernesto gazed out the doorway. He looked like he was about to smile at Héctor before his eyes fell on Imelda, and he scrambled backward, clutching his throat.

“Ernesto!” Héctor cried. “Are you—?”

“That cough sounded awful,” Imelda said, covering her mouth as though she were shocked (in reality, hiding a smile). “Is your throat all right?”

“I—”

The single syllable he managed to get out was hoarse and barely audible, and he doubled over in another coughing fit.

“Oooh…” Héctor winced. “It sounds like you caught what Imelda had.”

“Qué terrible,” Imelda said, looking away and swallowing a laugh. She could see Ernesto nodding hesitantly out of the corner of her eye, and turned back to see him staring at her warily.

“I, uh… guess we won’t be playing today, then.” Héctor’s frame wilted, but then he immediately perked up again, looking at Imelda. “Hey, could he come over? We could make him some soup.”

Imelda’s gut reaction was to reject the idea, but she stopped herself, glancing back at Ernesto, who seemed to have gone a shade paler. She grinned. “That’s a wonderful idea, Héctor! I’m sure he would appreciate the gesture.”

Catching the look in her eye, Ernesto put his hands up in defense, shaking his head. “No, no,” he managed to wheeze out, his voice barely there. “I don’t… want you getting sick.”

“That’s true… Well, we’ll make you something and drop it off, then. ¡Adios! Feel better soon, hermano.” And with that, Héctor and Imelda turned to leave… but not before Imelda gave Ernesto a smirk, which quickly turned into a grin at seeing the man flinch.

She had to admit, she’d been looking forward to finally confronting him again now that her voice was back. Giving him a piece of her mind had seemed like it would be rather satisfying, and she was almost disappointed she hadn’t been able to do it. However… giving him her cough wasn’t a bad alternative.

Maybe now they’d finally have some peace without that idiot bothering them.

[ikonislife]

Spellbound

-Hanbin x Female reader

-Hanbin’s birthday project (: 

-Hogwarts au, friends to lovers, school life au.

-Spellbound masterlist

 -A/n: Please, please read this with an open mind. I’ve never done anything like this before so I know it’s lacking. I know there are thousands of better Hogwarts au out there but I haven’t found too many for iKON so I thought what better time than to create something fun for Hanbin’s birthday. I tried to include other members in the stories because why not, I love them all (:

Chapter 2: Crush??

As October made its way to the ground of the castle, the world suddenly burst into flames of vibrant gold and shades of crimson. The air seemingly fresher and exhilaration filled the atmosphere. First years could barely contain their joy of experiencing Hogwarts’ famous Halloween feast having heard it from the reminiscing second years for weeks on end. Even amongst the faculty, a sense of blissful urgency spread about as they planned their course of action for the holiday season. Decorating an entire castle was no menial task and even with magic, it was still quite a serious job. Everyone seemed to be hopped up on pumpkin juice and sweet potato pie doused in enough whipped cream to construct a Michelin puffman, even Jiwon seemed to have forgot the torture Hanbin put him through, seemingly excited even for weekend practice.

Well, nearly everyone. 

As the dismissal of their last class of the week had everyone erupting in cheer, excited for the freedom of weekend and the seasonal sweets Honeydukes had put out in commemoration of Halloween.  The group of students buzzing by like bees on their way to sweet nectar leaving behind the Gryffindor’s quidditch team captain alone with his thought. He had shooed away Jiwon and Donghyuk after their third attempt to get him out of the classroom had failed, silently scribbling away a few notes he had missed as the thundering footsteps of the two boys grew distant. As the last sentence finally pen down, Hanbin stared back at the impressive three chalkboard worth of writing, intimidation mixing with hopelessness left him sighing heavily. 

“So hard at work on a Friday afternoon?” He didn’t need to look to know just whom that voice had belonged to. Fingers gripping at his quill harshly, Hanbin bit his lips silent, unsure of what even to response when you settled in right beside him.

“Yea, I’m already behind as is… Missing notes isn’t going to help.” Hanbin scratched his head sheepishly, an awkward chuckle in his throat ripped away as you leaned in, eyes intently searching amongst the chicken scrawl for writing on the messy pages. 

“Neither will incorrectly copied note.” Humming softly, your eyes were still glued to the mess on the paper as your hands moved to pull out your own book, flipping pages until the one dated 10/3 appeared. “See this part here, about derivative? You copied the formula wrong.” 

His eyes couldn’t part way with the gentle smile on your lips, eyes sparkled in the stale sun of a cold autumn afternoon. The scent of apple lingered in the air and he was certain it wasn’t because of the reddening orchard Hagrid had kept so perfectly nor the freshly baked caramel apple pie luring the students back to Great Hall for dinner in a few hours’ time. He got so lost in the way your words danced about in the slight breeze, hair twirling in the air like ballerinas on stage. 

“Hanbin, are you listening?” 

“Oh, sorry. You were saying?” At the calling of his name, Hanbin startled himself back to reality, mortified that he had been so blatantly staring…Happy, albeit shock, that you knew his name. Luckily, it seemed as though you didn’t really mind or at the very least hadn’t realized that he had been searing every inch of your face with his soul, studying your dainty features because who know when would the next time such opportunity would present itself neatly wrapped in a bow. Even your giggle was like music to his ears, falling from your lips as you continued pointing out all his mistakes. 

“No wonder my homework mark had been so dismal. Thanks again.” he muttered grimly after you had spent nearly half an hour fixing bits and pieces, filling in the blank he had left for a later date but never gotten around to.

“Do you want to take my notebook? I’d hate to see such little thing messing up your grade.” Before you could finish the sentence, your hands already pushed the object in question toward his way. 

“A-Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from studying.” Hanbin half offered but his hands were telling another story, already gripping tight onto the notebook, thumb gliding gently over the little pink nametag on the cover. 

“I’m fine, I can use the textbook. You can just give it back to me after the weekend.” With one last smile and backpack slung over your shoulders, you bid him goodbye but not before one last supportive pat on his arm with a soft “you can do it”, searing the words into his brain. He had let you walked away, yet before your feet could peddle through the threshold of the empty room, Hanbin called out. For the first time, he let your name danced at the tip of his tongue, loving the fact that you had turned around with a smile already on your lips. 

“I- Can I walk you back? Seeing how I kept you here late and all…” Half way through the sentence, Hanbin could feel all his blood draining from his body as he stared down at his own feet kicking at the floor scuffed with centuries of students passing through.

“Oh you don’t have to, Gryffindor dorm isn’t exactly close to Slytherin. Plus, it was no trouble at all!” Your cheerful reply like a knife to his heart. Hanbin wanted to keep on insisting, that he must walk you back to your dorm because how else could he work up enough courage to finally ask you to study with him. Turmoil within his heart but alas, his courage this very moment would be shameful for a Gryffindor, abandoning the thought of raising that same question a second time.

“O-Oh. Okay. Well I’ll see you around. Thanks again.”  So he bit his lips, not wanting to cross boundary when you had so graciously offered him a way out of his personal hell but there was no stopping the disappointment in his voice. However, it seemed as though lady luck had taken a liking to the poor captain because just as he had bent down out of sight to pick up his bag, your voice called for him once more.

“We can walk together till the hallway, I wouldn’t mind that. It’s a long way down.” 

Hanbin needed nothing else to light fire under his step as he near raced toward the exit, books shoved hastily into his bag… Except for your notebook, that he had very delicately slid in between the old fabric, taking the utmost care. As the both of you taking the long winding staircase one step at a time, letting the comforting silent basked in the soft breeze reaching its frosty fingers through the many windows of the tower. For a moment he had forgotten the companionship offered by the girl he had so long watched and admired from afar, nearly hopping two steps at once. 

“Are you always this excited to run down these endless flights of steps?” Your voice cut into his reverie of warm pumpkin soup and shepherd pie, a night in spend under the cover and maybe he would finally have enough peace and quiet to finish that latest episode of Attack on Titans.

“I’m sorry. I forgot for a second, thought I was alone.” Shuffling awkwardly on the step he had just landed on, Hanbin gave an apologetic smile, watching as you imitated the little hop he had taken, closing in the distant. He found himself biting his lips, words of adoration threatening to spill.

“No worry. I’m just not as athletic as a quidditch captain, you know. Take me awhile to conquer the trek up here.” 

“Well, I don’t think many people like this class very much. I still don’t understand why we have classes at the highest floor.” Glancing back up toward the long-winded way you both have made, Hanbin shook his head in fake disappointment, never before had he been so glad of the strenuous walk and just how long it gave him to be with you. “As if calculus isn’t hard enough.”

“I think it’s some sort of messed up, forced physical education. It’s not like we have P.E. in here and apparition is a thing.” Landing right beside the boy, you threw your hands up in the air as if a gymnast landing her tumble, elicited a soft giggle from Hanbin. If the first half of your little walk had been like a love story unfolding in the bright sun of summer, hand in hand as you both run through the salty air of the beach, laughter in place of words because what else is there to do when the fun of it all contained within three short months. Then the second half, a spring romance, there was a gentleness in the way his attention solely on you as you went on, overcomplicating an answer to a simple question simply because you were nervous. It was delicate, walls established boundaries around your hearts yet with each question answered, excitement of learning the likes and dislikes of the other unlock yet another layer. Neither of you had gotten a clue as to what this air of contentment had been, but there was no denying that it was something wonderful, something you’d like the experience again. But like all good things in the world, what started must end and this was the end of the road for your little walk. As the distant run low, there was an urgency in Hanbin’s forgetful heart to speed up his words but found himself unable to do so, loving the soft pace of your conversation. And so he lingered, shuffling from foot to foot as you wrapped up your little story about your hometown, the most important question of all still had yet to see the light of day.

“Sorry I talked so much. It’s not often I get to talk about my life outside of Hogwarts. There isn’t exactly too many of me in Slytherin.” The bit of grimace on your face struck a chord in his soul, sadden with the sudden realization that he hadn’t seen you socialize much beside the small group always surrounding you.

“Not at all. I think it’s cool, chat about home life.” You nodded, bit sad the walk had been much shorter than memory served, by the little pout on his lips, you suspected Hanbin felt the same. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” First to break the silent, as much as you’d love to stand here all night with chatting about donuts and going to the movies, Hanbin would probably prefer to spend his precious time elsewhere… With other people. He nodded back, eyes dashing about nervously as if words threatening to spill, so close on the tip of his tongue but perhaps it was best not to. 

“Hey, can I have your number?” Just as you were about to turn on your heels, something built inside his heart that finally lit the fire of courage. “For homework help… And, maybe if you know, you need to talk to someone about home.” Correcting himself, a small smile dashed across his lips before hope extinguished itself in face of your silent. “I’m sorry if I was too forthcoming.”

“Oh, not at all. Of course. I supposed it’d be easier too, if you do finish with my note early, I don’t have to chase you about the school to get it back.” 

Suddenly it felt as if you were basking in the warmth of sunrise, the smile breaking over Hanbin’s lips could only be liken to the golden yolk of a new day. You watched as he dug through the mess of his bag before timidly pushing a very battered phone your way.

“Uhm, I dropped it couple practices ago…” Catching your lingering eyes on the webs of crack atop his phone, he explained, bit of embarrassment toying with his smile. “Forgot to take it out of my pocket. Jiwon had been laughing at me for days now, such a rookie mistake.”

“Have you tried reparo? We learned that… First year?” Fingers swiftly typing in your number, hanbin watched with the utmost focus, completely taken back by the suddenness of your question. He mumbled in confusion, doing his best to recall if reparo was taught first year or second before light of revelation broke over the handsome features. Once more the boy before you chuckled in embarrassment, kittenish grin met the small glances you stole in between each digit.  Soon that grin turned into confusion, you held out your empty hand in front of him, gesturing as if you were to give the phone back yet it was still so tightly gripped in your other hand, loosely swinging by your side. 

“Hand please!” Hanbin got no clue what you got plan but his heart eager, following your every word as if they’re spellbound, commanding him to obey. Right hand balling into a fist, Hanbin was so nervous that a shiver was rummaging through the svelte digits, he shook his hand slightly before placing his left, palm up over your small one. Delicate as ever, you placed the phone back where it belonged, wand at the ready. 

“reparo.” The spell fell off your lips with a small wave of the dainty wand, in a flash, the web of cracks down to the tiniest scratch mended itself in a golden light, the surface of his phone once more pristine as if it had never seen a day of usage. His eyes widen in amazement, childlike wonder reaching through his lips in a soft smile as if never before had he witnessed such magic. 

“Wow” he whispered, fingers turning and flipping the phone, studying it as if one of those obscure ancient objects he had seen so often in history class. 

“Good as new.” You tugged at your heavy bag, a knowing smile on your lips, bit of pride swelling in your chest when he stared back at you, the light in his eyes full of admiration.

Hanbin really wanted to hug you, like really, really wanted to hug you, so much so that he had begun leaning forward, hands reaching out toward you before the realization that he had in fact knew you for about 25 minutes stopping him dead in his track. You were swaying a bit, robe swinging back and forth as you watched in silent, studying his expression, not really wanting to leave but what other reason could you quote as a reason to stay. 

“Yah! Y/L/N Y/N! You coming with me to dinner or what?” Rushing in from the cold grasp of an Autumn evening, Junhoe pulling his robe close, vexation taut on his furrowing brows. And although he was nowhere near the staircase where Hanbin and you had been huddling together for who know how long now, you could see so clearly a tint of cheekiness shining bright in his eyes despite not wanting to break the persona of a true Slytherin royalty in front of the Gryffidor’s prince. You surmised a guess that sleep won’t be what on your mind tonight, not when Koo Junhoe had seen you so chummy with Kim Hanbin. 

“Goodness, it’s already this late?” You stared pass the boy with a scowl on his lips, none to please with the sudden intrusion of your best friend. The sky now inky, cloud had surrounded the bright moon above, the breeze seemingly much much colder by the look of Junhoe who was even paler than usual. Yet you couldn’t feel the frigidity of the wind, not when there was still a comforting warmth emanating from the boy donning gold and crimson crest. “I’m sorry, I keep making you late. I’m sure you got important plans.”

“Oh no, no plan. I’m glad to be here with you.” That shy grin had returned to those soft plump lips. You whispered a small goodbye to which he awkwardly waved in return, still thanking you endlessly. 

Hanbin stood there, watching as you jogged your way to the tall boy rushing you about with the ridiculous flapping of his large hands. It’d be a lie if Hanbin said that a bit of joy didn’t surged in his heart when you landed your right elbow into Junhoe’s side sending the tall man nearly tumbling to the stone floor. Just before you turned the corner and out of his sight, you stole one last glance back at the boy still dreamily smiling your way, something was definitely stirring in his heart. 

When the soft nagging of your voice at a cackling Junhoe could no longer reach his ears, Hanbin finally spun on his feet and traveled down the empty darkening hallway. His newly repaired phone still clutching so tightly in his hand and that small smile still very much on his lips. He was so lost in the memory of recent event, doing his best to commit every details the little time you spent together to heart. You were just as gentle and bright as he had thought yet he could tell there was another side to you, a cheekier side that every now and then would slip up and surface under a well disguised a tease. After all, he had heard so many times in passing by, you were one degree away from burning Junhoe with a calm remark sending the boy into a huffing fit. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of first time and the unclear boundaries it came with it that had suppressed your true self, for he too hid a part of himself fearing you’d find it weird. He suspected that in time, he’d be able to be friend with the you that wasn’t scare to put Junhoe in his place and countless time leaving everybody in your group crying with laughter. For now, he’d have to stick with talking about calculus and of the muggle life, patiently await the day he too could crack a rib laughing to your joke. 

“Oh look who finally decided to join us.” Donghyuk cheered loudly the second Hanbin stepped foot into the empty common room, Yunhyeong tottering over from the far corner holding something in his hands. 

“Ah, lover boy’s back!” Jiwon emerged from the door to their dorm, sticking his head over the railing of the balcony.

“What are you doing canoodling with the enemy there, you brat.” Hanbin shot Jiwon a few daggers for glare before turning his attention to the Ravenclaw boys. “Hey, Yunhyeong!” 

“Jerk.” Donghyuk mumbled darkly, hand reaching for the cupcakes Yunhyeong carried over. 

Bag thrown onto the floor, Hanbin slumped into one of the red and gold stripes armchair right beside the crackling fire, shoes kicked off clumsily onto the floor. 

“I thought you were all going to Hogsmeade, what happened?” Offering a quick thanks to the cupcake Yunhyeong was shoving his way, Hanbin slid further into the soft embrace of his seat.

“We were, then we got lazy.” Jiwon finally reached the group of boys toasting themselves in the redden glow of the warm fireplace, slapping Hanbin on the back of his head. For as long as he could remember, Jiwon had always used slap in place of a normal wave hello. At first Hanbin was of course pissed, rightfully so when the boy kept bulking up, muscles grown and the slaps weren’t getting softer. But now, he had just accepted that it was Jiwon’s own way of saying that Hanbin holds a special place in his heart. 

“Yea, plus Yunhyeong made cupcakes.” 

Hanbin hummed silently in acknowledgement, eyes glued to the flaring flames before letting himself immersed in the rare peaceful moment while surrounded by his rowdy friends. Should he text you tonight? His thought of the first message to you stirred up all the things you had told him about your home life, how you have a little dog named Ollie that you endearingly referred to as Ollie-bum because his butt was apparently perfect. What was it you had said about music? Why didn’t he paid closer attention because now he was wrecking his brain over anything at all to say to you. A grumble left his lips as he vexingly tugged at his hair, unbeknownst to him, the boys had been paying attention very closely with a grin on their lips. 

“So, lover boy!” Jiwon was first to break the silent, a smirk on his lips at the little jump hanbin did in shock. 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Shoving the last piece of cupcake in his mouth, he gestured for Yunhyeong to give another cupcake his way.

“Oh come on, we’re not daft. We saw the princess lingering when we left. That’s why you stayed behind, isn’t it? Talk to her?” Jiwon teased and normally Hanbin would already drop kick the boy but this moment, he was still soaring in cloud nine, still too happy from the aftereffect you had on him to care.

“Yea, so. What’s to it?” He replied curtly but there was no stopping the little smile already warming through his lips. 

“What’s to it? Well did you get her number or not? Or all that fussing by the staircase was for nothing.” Donghyuk chimed in, devouring probably his 5th cupcake. 

“You spied on me?”

“No, no. Not spy, happened to stumble upon is more like it.”

“Fuck you all.” Finally fed up with vultures feeding upon his sad excuse of a love life, Hanbin got up, book bag once more slung over his shoulder as he marched toward the dorm room. “If you guys decided to stop being lonely single dicks, I’ll be in my bed watching Attack on Titans.” Just before he could disappear from the rowdy boys, Hanbin leaned over the railing overlooking the grand common groom festive in levitating jack o’ lanterns, gleaming tinsel of purple and orange draping the length of the room and over bookcases. “I was thinking, if I ever get close enough to meet her friends, maybe I can finally introduce you to Junhoe, Donghyuk. But now…” with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Hanbin turned on his heel and headed straight to his bed ignoring the groan in protest of his sunshine friend. 

Somewhere across the castle, deep beneath the dark glow of Black Lake, you too were dealing with your very own pests. Junhoe had been relentless, even got Lisa and Chanwoo to join in with the annoyance he called banter.

“Come on, Y/n. You were all whispering and intimate with Kim Hanbin for like hours.” His large body sprawled across your bed, head hanging off the side slowly going red from all the blood rushing to it. 

“There’s nothing to tell. He asked me about homework! And it was five minutes you butt!” Taking the flailing arms begging for help, you pulled Junhoe up with a loud grunt before slumping right beside the dizzy boy. 

“That’s bullshit. You tell me all that time you spent alone in class, the whole walk down stair and according to Junhoe,” Lisa gestured to the boy who was regretting his decision to feel how a bat would, rubbing at his head furiously. “You were standing there all giddy with him for ages and nothing happened during all those minutes alone.”

“I don’t know what to tell you guys, he’s hopeless at math. And it was five minutes damnit!” 

“Fine then, what about the phone. You were holding his phone.” Junhoe chimed in again, this time laying starfish on the floor making an invisible snow angel on your rug. 

“He asked for my number…” A cheer erupted throughout the small room, “for homework purposes.” Lisa chucked her stuffed toy at your correction while Junhoe who had propelled himself off the floor in excitement splatted once more onto the ground. Although Chanwoo didn’t seemed all the phase by your answer, a strange look on his features. 

“Well it’s not strange for boys to say shit like that. It could just all be an excuse to be alone with you.” That boy, as clever as ever. He was the first to have taken notice of the lingering stare and soft smile you had whenever the prince of quidditch sauntered by. He said nothing, waiting patiently until the day he caught you doodling a little character bearing striking resemblance to the Gryffindor captain. Still, Chanwoo would’ve let it go waiting for a better opportunity. Yet as he stood there, deciding whether or not to wake you from your day dream, you had absentmindedly jotted down Hanbin with little hearts and flowers and tiny bees buzzing about. No way in hell he’d let this good of a chance go, not after you had grilled him on the little crush he had on a certain Ravenclaw 7th year. 

“That’s so true. Hey, have you met any of his friends yet?” Junhoe suddenly taken an interest, eyes ogling at the plate of meat pie Chanwoo had dragged up, realizing just now he hadn’t gotten dinner. Too much excitement and too good of an opportunity to pass up, he and the rest of the gang had opted for interrogating you rather than food. 

“You mean Donghyuk? No, I haven’t. I’ve known him for 3 seconds and spoken to him a grand total of one and a half sentence. What make you think I know his friend?” your brows furrowed incredulously at the preposterous question. Yet before any of them could pipe up in protest, your phone chimed loudly like an omen to the vultures eating away at your heart. 

“It’s him isn’t it. Tell me it’s him.” Lisa scrambling to her feet, propelling herself onto your bed faster than you’ve ever seen her go, not even during the house quidditch match. You slapped the hand buzzing by like flies to honey, wanting so badly to ignore the second chime reminding you of the text awaiting just to spite the ravenous raccoons staring at you so intently, awaiting for any trash to be thrown their way, serve them right for being so nosy. Yet the chance that the text could be from Hanbin was much greater than any sense of personal justice against your friends, and so you reluctantly turned your attention to the phone. 

“What did it say??” Chanwoo was now hopping up and down in Lisa’s bed as she eyed him carefully, one second away from pulling out her own phone to film him just in case the bed cave under the weight of the elated boy.

“Calm down. He just said hi, let me know it’s his number.” In unison, they all heaved a disappointing groan, Junhoe ever so dramatic, slapping his own hand onto his forehead and once more letting his body thudded heavily onto the rug. 

“Out of all the things he could’ve said,” Lisa murmuring, still dissatisfied with what in her opinion, an utterly lame and bullshit opening. “He said, ‘Hi, it’s Hanbin.’ Boy didn’t even try, I tell you.” 

“You don’t know that.” Chanwoo defended, “He could’ve typed and deleted so many lines before going with that one.” He shot you a wink, knowing full well you had nearly blurted out the same yourself but chose to save you the pain of being tease… Or he was just getting tired of watching you being demolish ever since the other two had found out about your little crush on a certain quidditch captain.

It was by no one’s fault that Lisa happened upon the heartfelt conversation meant only for Chanwoo’s ears, happy misfortune you had called it. Happy because no longer did you have to fear the glances you stole would give away the secret of your heart, no longer did Chanwoo had to walk around carrying a lie, your lie. The biggest reason of all for the deceit was because you feared what they’d say once you’ve confessed your heart’s desire.  You’ve been wrecking yourself over how to break the news of your treasonous liking for the enemy when Lisa was quidditch captain of Slytherin and Junhoe, he might as well change his last name to Slytherin. There’s no one more prideful to wave the green and silver flag than he. How would they take the news when you not only taken a liking to a Gryffindor, the lucky person in question was their star captain, a true Gryffindor royalty. 

“So, Kim Hanbin, huh?” He mused softly and you felt your blood ran cold, body stiffen under the large hand patting at your shoulder. You knew it was far too late but there was no helping the rush in your fingers to flip over the pages of your notebook, ridding of any evident.

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” If you hadn’t been caught red-handed, the stuttering would surely give away your guilty conscience. You gave him a weak smile, eyes dashing about for any sign of other life forms lingering about the empty library corner.

“It’s okay, Y/n. You don’t have to lie to me. I suspected for some time now, just waiting on you to finally fess up really.” Large body crashing onto the chair beside yourself, Chanwoo all but laid his whole body atop the messy tabletop, books strewn haphazardly, a clear sign exams were on the horizon. 

“Oh” You sighed in relief, awkward chuckle to cover the fact that your cheeks nearly burst into steam at the realization that someone else was now aware of your crush on Hanbin. 

“Did you think I was gonna disown you or something?” He murmured softly, fingers flipping back to the little doodle that had gave away your heart, a soft chuckle graced his lips at the little bees buzzing about the page, clearly entertained by their movements. “This is so cute.” 

“Honestly? Yea. I mean you and Junhoe are both Slytherin as Slytherin get. I bet your blood is green.” 

“Y/n, we’re proud but we’re not old school. You of all people should know that.” Sometimes it amazed you how gentle and thoughtful Chanwoo could be, so different from the rambunctious prankster everyone thought of when his name is said. He had always been a good person, understanding and not a bone of mean in his body, yet moment like these and the profound philosophies of life he carried, made you wonder if you’ll every truly know all of him. 

“I know, I guess I’m just scare to lose you lot. Especially not over a stupid little crush.” He pulled you in a hug and even though you were no stranger to how touchy this boy could be, this was different, far cry from the clingy ones on cold nights while all four of you crowd the small space of your room to watch a movie. 

“I think I can speak for Junhoe and Lisa too on this matter, we’re gonna be here whether you like it or not. Don’t think something this small could divide us.” Your heart was soaring amongst the stars and a comforting silent was beginning to wash over the small corner, warmly lit by the glowing fire so kindly share its wealth with the cold room. Once more your body froze in fear at the sudden intrusion of a sweet voice and by the way Chanwoo’s skin had lost all the golden goodness left over from a summer well spent, that voice was all too real. 

“Yes, Lisa agreed!” She tackled you in a giant hug, soft kisses pressing against your hair and the honey drawn laughter crisp against the slight chill of night creeping up on the library. “Little girl, I could never hate you, even if you did decided to like my arch nemesis.”

“Just because you’re like 5 feet taller than me, that don’t mean you can call me little girl, you butt.” You griped in protest but happiness plastered on the big grin you got going, appreciative that you had found friends who were willing to be there for you no matter what. 

“Yea, yea…” Body dropping across the old wooden table, Lisa got that smirk on her lips that told you she was up to no good. “Besides, if you hang around him enough, maybe I could get insider info on his game plan.”

“Lisa!” You exclaimed perhaps a bit too loud by the shushing from the distant. “Do you really want to win like that?”

“I’m just kidding. But his friends are pretty damn cute tho…” She stared off into space with a dreamy glint to her eyes, no doubt letting her mind wander to the rare occasion she got to interact with the Gryffindor boys.

“You sure that ain’t why you’ve been losing? Too busy staring at the Gryffindor’s beater to protect your own goal?” A loud crash from the giant Ingredients Encyclopedia flying across the way, knocking Chanwoo right off his chair drawn much ire from the librarian. Laughter filled the empty room as the three of you rushed off before the wrath of the keeper of books could be dealt. It was weeks before you had worked up the courage to confide your little crush to Junhoe, and as dramatic as his flailing about had been about you sleeping with the enemy instead of one of his many dashing fellow housemates, Junhoe was quite honestly just relief it hadn’t been Donghyuk you had a crush on. 

Before dream could steal another second away from reality, your phone chimed once again leaving everyone in bated breaths awaiting the message to be read aloud. 

“What did he say now?” Junhoe asked, far more excited than you had been. 

“He thought he got the wrong number, since I didn’t reply.” 

“Then reply, quickly so we can go eat. I’m hungry!” he sassed back.

“GUYS!” A sudden shriek ripped from your throat left the trio staring in shock, most at awe that such a sound could come from you and had you been out of sight, they would’ve thought you had just seen Voldemort coming back to life. 

“What in the heaven, Y/n? What was that for?” Junhoe wanted to slap you so hard for nearly puncturing his eardrum with your blood curdling scream.

“He, Kim Hanbin, just asked if we wanted to join him and his friends for dinner.” there was a touch of panic in your voice as you delivered the message to the crowd at attention. It was now Junhoe’s turn to let out a howl at the thought of being within reach of the renowned Ravenclaw’s sunshine, on the brink of passing out from the speed at which his heart was pounding.

“Will you two stop it?” Chanwoo muttered in a dignified manner, bit of disgust shooting out of his glaring eyes as he sauntered over to hoist Lisa to her feet. “If you two are going to have a meltdown session, please do it in the confinement of our dorm. I can’t have Slytherin’s good name be muddle by your unnecessary fangirl-ing.” 

“Yunhyeong is coming, so is Jiwon and Donghyuk.” Chanwoo’s face pale as snow the moment you had announced the name of a certain 7th year Ravenclaw, nose flaring when you shot back at him a smug grin.

“Ahem, well, I guess one dinner won’t hurt anyone.” You shook your head in disbelief at his blatant change in tone. 

Bickering put aside, the four of you begin the trip down toward the amazing scent of roast beef and pumpkin pie mingling in the crisp cold air of an Autumn night, letting your noses lead the way. The moon shining brilliantly through the endless rows of windows, reaching its silvery wisps to caress the stone path of the hall bright still with the chatter of students lingering after dinner. You chatted in excitement partly because in a few minutes, you’ll get to see Hanbin once more but also because through all this, you were reminded of just how blessed you were to have the friends like these. 

Somewhere in the depth of his room, Hanbin sprung up from his bed like new grass in spring, elated to bask in the sunlight after a long winter spending time with its head in the ground. He leapt to his feet in a flash and out the door he went, phone clutching tight still in his hand. Once more he stuck his head over the railing, staring down at the boys still very much enjoying the warmth of the crackling fireplace, sharing a funny story or two over the now nearing disappearing cupcake. 

“Hey, dorks.” He called out, finding himself dodging a barrage of cupcake wrappers flinging themselves his way like a tiny fleet of fighter jets. He had forgotten just how well versed Jiwon was with his incantations, that boy will seriously give Hanbin whiplash one of these day flip-flopping between the most adorable idiot to a genius in a second. 

“What do you want, lover boy?” 

“I’m gonna head down to dinner... Wanna come?”

“Why, do you need us to hold your hand and spoon-feed you?” Jiwon bit out curtly, “Fess up, dork. What’s the real reason for your sudden hunger? What happened to having a date night with your right hand?” A thundering roar of laughter filled dispelling the quietness of the empty common room, Donghyuk landed several powerful slaps onto Jiwon’s back leaving him in deep regret of having made the joke in the first place. Awful laughter Donghyuk got, falling and flailing about as if someone had cursed him with Rictusempra, his large hand dealing out slaps and punches to whomever unlucky enough to be within a 5 feet radius. 

“God, I said I was gonna watch anime, you shit.” Disgust falling from his lips in a sneer. “And what’s wrong with me changing my mind?”

“Just admit the real reason, Hanbin.” Donghyuk whispered breathlessly, index wiping away a few tears lingering on his lashes, wheezing still from laughing too hard. 

“Fine, I might’ve told Y/n we were coming to dinner, all of us, and that she can join us.” He murmured softly under his breath in defeat, as if fearing the wall could hear the embarrassment in his voice. 

“And why did you do that?” Jiwon mused matter of factly, clearly very amused at the suffering of his dear best friend. Despite the long drawn sentence and his sing-song voice, his question was met with silent. Hanbin far too stubborn to let his friend get under his skin like this, hell, he didn’t even know if there was any reason for them to want to be under his skin. 

“Come on, mate. The faster you admit it, the sooner this will be all over with. We’re just having a bit of a laugh, didn’t mean any harm.” Yunhyeong smoothed things over, coaxing a faint grin onto Hanbin’s lips. 

“Well I would love to but I don’t even know...” It was true, Hanbin wasn’t even sure what had compelled him to lied about coming to dinner when clearly, he had no plan to leave his bed for the rest of the night, not even to shower.

“Know?” The three boys teetering at the edge of their seats, watching the captain sauntering down the steps with a daze look in his eyes. 

“Know what this is.” Body crashing onto the slightly worn couch, Hanbin heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know why I told her we were going to dinner.”

“Well, do you like spending time with her? Looked like you had fun earlier even if you claimed it was just homework.” Sneaking the last cupcake into his mouth, Jiwon muffled out a question that though very simple, it was anything but.

“It was just homework! and yea, I suppose. Felt nice talking to her.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?” 

“I guess, yea. Been spotting her for ages now in the hall, even before we had the same class.” A dreamy answer left Hanbin dancing in the memories of the past, recalling every details about you that seemed to draw him in like moth to fire. “Anyways, what’s with the 21 questions?”

“Just play along. Now, do you get all nervous and...” Donghyuk droned out, staring off into space as if the answer he was looking for written in the stars, fingers snapping. 

“Fluster.” Yunhyeong chimed in.

“Yes, fluster, when she smile or you know, does anything in general?”

“Yea?” The oblivious boy gave a hesitant answer, body folding forward in anticipation and honestly, a bit worry. “What does that mean?”

“Boy, you’ve got to be the stupidest person I’ve ever met... And I’ve met me!” Jiwon teased with a bit of a chuckle, quite proud though he wasn’t sure why. “I feel sorry for Y/n.” He added, to which Yunhyeong had agree with a series of quick nods, muttering something that sounded awful lot like “poor girl.” 

Hanbin was still very much clueless as to why his three friends suddenly stared back at him bit in awe and bit concern, like when he had told his mom he given the little girl next door the money she had given him for an ice lolly because “but she was so nice to me”. Donghyuk was shaking his head in disbelief and Yunhyeong kept on about how unfortunate everything was for you. Jiwon, well he got this look to his face that was somewhere in between the time Hanbin had told him he had made the quidditch team and throwing up. 

“What is going on, why am I stupid.” The conversation had only piled up frustration over everything else that he got going on, no where close to a solution.

“That’s why you’re stupid, you don’t even know why you’re stupid.” Jiwon sighed with a slap to his forehead, bit too hard by the little scowl on his lips and the his sudden need to sprawl onto the old couch. 

“Quit it man, I’m just confuse now.”Slumping forward, Hanbin got his best thinking cap on, elbows on his knees as he called upon the wisdom of the past through the flaring flames of the fire. 

“What Jiwon here was tryna say is, you’re in love.” As the oldest idiot of the bunch, Yunhyeong felt a sense of responsibility, be the big brother and the clear headed one when the other three would just rather sit and laugh at one another. He leaned forward with a pat to Hanbin’s back, nearly sending him tumbling onto the floor startled. 

“I’m what?” Wide eyes and mouth hanging to the floor, Hanbin stammered in complete and utter shock at the big L-word. How could he be? Was it even possible for someone to be in love and not aware of it, not even the tiniest bit?

“In love, well at least have a very big crush on little Y/n.”

“I do?” Baffled, surprised, perplexed, befuddled ... there wasn’t enough words to describe the tone that the question had just tumbled out from his lips.

“Seems like it to me.”

“Is that bad? Am I like not good enough for her?” He questioned once more, heart beating erratic. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well you said you feel bad for her and Yunhyeong here had been on for ages about how unfortunate it is for her.” 

“It’s not bad that you fancy her. It’s bad because you yourself didn’t even realize it. You could’ve gone on for days flirting and confuse the poor girl. Mix signal is dangerous you know, could’ve been leading her on for ages without even knowing.” 

Hanbin nodded, that part made perfect sense, he supposed, yet his heart was still so confused at everything else. Could it really have been that he had been crushing on you this whole time. Hanbin surmised that if so, his behaviors certainly the past few months would’ve made perfect sense. How he can always spot you in a crowd, recognize that little tune no matter where. Made perfect sense too as to why there was a bit of souring in his heart (called it heartburn this entire time) whenever another boy so fondly speak of you. But again, how could he have developed a huge crush on you without even having spoken a word. 

These questions clouded his mind still as Jiwon quite literally dragged him by hand out the door, hunger now settled into their stomachs once the topic of their friend’s love life was addressed. Their chatter excited and footfall loud yet it fallen deaf on Hanbin as he floated along the hallway, reminiscent that of one of the many spirits dwelling the castle... Just bit more absentmindedly than most. He mumbled and muttered nonsense the entire way, worrying much of the painting, fearing that he had gotten struck with a spell during dueling or worse, possessed. Yet as the delicate aroma of roast beef dinner and various sweets tickled their noses, Hanbin was shaken out of his reverie not by the bright light of the Great Hall illuminating the darken path, but rather, your laughter. He searched and searched and found no word to describe how perfect your little giggle had been. Crisp? Delightful? Sweet? Perhaps all of the aforementioned? Hanbin wasn’t sure any longer, an unbearable sense of urgency flooded his chest as your chatter grew loud. He joined the rest of the boy in rushing about the last few meters toward the entrance but not by the same reason, not because he was hungry. 

His heart drummed to its own beat as his eyes met yours, robe and uniform long gone. In their places were plain ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and perhaps the most wonderful, giant red knitted cardigan that seemingly complimented your glow so adorably. He felt his heart stopped and time frozen, never before had he seen you in casual clothes and Hanbin have got no clue how to react. The world melted away and his vision blurred, unable to comprehend anything that very instant, and really, how could he when you had effortlessly transformed into the cutest autumn fairy waiting for his arrival. 

“I do...” Hanbin whispered gently to himself, the questions no longer badgering at his heart as he stepped confidently toward the spot you had been patting softly. He wasn’t sure still if anything happened in the last 10 minutes had made a lick of sense but no longer did he care, though one thing was certain, everything was right in the world when you’re by his side. 

-Spellbound masterlist

[hiddlestaan]

mamma mia!

Summary: Relationships suck. You think you finally find the one that you’ll live happily ever after with and get married with and have children with, and then they go behind your back and have an affair with your best friend. Yeah, relationships really suck. At least you still have your friends and Mamma Mia.

A/N: This isn’t based off of mamma mia in any way. I was just listening to the soundtrack and i felt inspired to write this little one-shot! hope you all enjoy! also this is my first steve fic! 

Jacob Anderson was everything I ever thought I wanted. Or maybe he was the only thing I knew to be love. Jacob “confessed” his feelings to me senior year of High School at the annual Sadie Hawkins dance. I shared my first slow dance with Jacob. A waste really. He didn’t even know how to dance. But, I was a school-girl in love, and when he told me he liked me under the unflattering fluorescent lighting of the gymnasium to the tune of ‘I’ve Been Waiting For You’ I fell for him. He was the first guy to ever tell me how he feels about me, and I leapt at the chance of being able to share my life with someone. Natasha warned me about Jacob, but I didn’t listen to her. I didn’t want to listen to her. I just wanted someone, and Jacob was that someone. I should have listened to her. She said I deserved someone way better, someone like Stevie. He was a pure ray of sunshine, a big fluffy teddy bear. Steve and I had been friends for a long time, and there was a part of my life where I did harvest emotions for him, but they were immediately put to a stop when he started dating Sharon. Plus, it didn’t really matter. I was with Jacob. What a mistake. I spent five years of my life with Jacob. I delusioned myself into believing that he could be the one. There were obvious signs that he was being unfaithful, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wouldn’t. Natasha warned me again, and this time I decided to listen to her. That’s when I caught Jacob and my supposed best friend, Angie, in bed together. It wasn’t my apartment, so I threw some things around for theatrical effect and out of pure anger. I’m sure he tried to “explain the situation” but I couldn’t hear through my loud crying and consistent smashing of picture frames. I packed my things and left him in his apartment with my ‘best friend.’ I didn’t really have a place to stay or anything like that, so I called the person I knew I could count on.

“Hey, Nat” I sniffled “Y/N? What’s wrong?” she asked, worry lacing her voice “You were right, Nat” I cried, “Jacob was cheating on me. I…I was walking back home and I caught him in bed with Angie” “That bitch! God! I knew it. That douche bag doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” she hissed “Listen, I left him and I don’t have anywhere to stay. You think I can crash with you for a few days? I promise I’ll get out of your hair once I find somewhere to stay” I sniffled “Of course, Y/N. You can stay with me as long as you want. We’re on our way to pick you up” she assured “Wait, Nat!” I said, but she hung up before I could finish my sentence. Who else was with her?

I walked over to a nearby bench, two bags filled with my things right next to me. A lot of my things were still up there, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back up there. I refused to look behind me, because I would be forced to confront the place I spent two years in with the person I thought I loved and loved me. I sat in silence, until the only thing I heard were my silent sobs. As if things couldn’t get any worse, It started raining. Of course it’s raining. What is my life? A tragic comedy? The rain only deepened my somber mood.  

It had been about twenty minutes since I called Nat when I finally recognized her car coming down the road. I let out an obvious sigh of relief when she stopped in front of me. She wasn’t the first to get out of her car though. Steve opened the passenger door and bolted to my side. He removed his sweater in one swift mood and placed it over my head. Our eyes met for a split second before he enveloped me in his arms. Nat made her way out of the car with a small smile on her face when she saw Steve holding me tightly.

“You’re going to have tear stains on your shirt, Stevie” I mumbled against his chest. “Doesn’t matter” responded Steve Steve slowly peeled him arms off me to let Nat give me a hug. Nat made her way towards me, wiping the tears off my face with the bud of her thumb. “Don’t waste your perfectly good mascara on that asshole” she consoled. Nat always knew how to make me laugh. Her smile got bigger once she heard my laugh.   “Now, c’mon, you two are going to get hypothermia if you’re out here any longer without a sweater” she joked She headed back towards her car. Stevie opened the door of the backseat for me before making his way next to me. “Hey, Steve, weren’t you sitting up here?” teased Nat “Nat” warned Steve

She just laughed it off and continued to drive towards her apartment. It wouldn’t be a drive with Natasha without music. In light of what happened to me she played my favorite music, which of course was almost all to depressing. She had a playlist on my phone named “Y/N’s Songs” that she played whenever I was in the car with her. Most of the songs consisted of sappy and depressing love songs. And of course ‘the lonely’ by Christina perri had to come of shuffle.

“God, this is depressing, Y/N” sighed Nat “Yeah, it is” I whispered “Do you want me to change it? You know what I’m changing it. If we’re gonna listen to Christina Perri might as well listen to ‘Jar of Hearts’ or something, not this” asked Nat

Before I could detest Steve unplugged Natasha’s phone, plugging in his own and the familiar, uplifting beat started to play almost instantly.

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line Honey I'm still free Take a chance on me

Nat did a full 180 turn from her seat and raised her eyebrow at Steve.

“What? I also happen to like Mamma Mia” “Since when?” questioned Nat “Pff, that doesn’t matter.  Keep your eyes on the road, Romanoff”

She resigned and turned to face the road with a very obvious smirk on her face. 

“Thank you, Stevie. Mamma Mia is just what I needed” I laughed “I thought it might help lift your spirits” he smiled “Well, consider my spirits lifted” I said

The rest of the ride we sang to Mamma Mia. When I heard ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ come on shuffle I immediately looked at Steve wide-eyed. He gave me a knowing smile before singing. I couldn’t help but join in. Nat didn’t exactly know what was going on, but she was just happy that I finally smiling again, and that the person responsible for it was Steve.

Don’t go wasting your emotion Lay all your love on me Don’t go sharing your devotion Lay all your love on me.

“As much as I enjoyed that carpool karaoke, we’re finally here” said Nat “Nooo, can we just keep driving” I whined, not wanting to go back to reality “I know how tempting that might sound, but your problems aren’t going to go way by simply singing the entire Mamma Mia soundtrack. We gotta face it, babe” retorted Nat I sighed. I knew she was right. “Fine” I huffed, “Wait, aren’t we going to give Stevie a ride home?” “Didn’t I tell you? Steve and I are roommates. Now, c’mon the rest of the guys are coming over for some good old breakup therapy. Which is basically eating lots of pizza and ice cream. I already ordered, so let’s head on in” said Nat.

She jumped out of her car and ran to the front door, quickly opening it and shaking herself dry before entering her apartment. I was going to open my side door, but Steve urged that I exit from his side of the car. He pulled his sweater slightly over me, shielding my head from the downpour of the rain. Once we were inside, Nat got the heater running and boiled some water for hot chocolate. I cuddled myself in a blanket on the couch, hoping to get warm quickly. Steve walked into the room with a cup of something I couldn’t quite make out.

“What’s that?” I asked “It’s for you. It’s apple juice. I know you don’t really like hot liquids, so you won’t be drinking any coffee or hot chocolate. So, I thought I’d bring you your favorite” “I do love apple juice, especially with” “Two ice cubes. I know” “You still remember” “How could I forget”

I smiled. I couldn’t help but smile when Stevie was around. But, he was with Sharon and I just broke up. I couldn’t get into something like that with Steve.

“So, your spending your Friday night here instead of with Sharon?” I asked “Sharon? Why would I… We… uh… we broke up months ago” he answered “Oh, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It wasn’t messy or anything like that. My heart just wasn’t in the relationship, and Sharon deserved better than that. We’re still friends, but that’s as far as we go. And, you were never really around to tell things to. You were always with Jacob” “God, I’m a terrible friend. I’m sorry. I just… I really thought that he was going to be the one. I spent five years of my life with him… and I don’t think I was ever in love with him. I think I was in love with the idea of loving someone, so I fooled myself into thinking I loved him and in the process I forgot all the people that I loved. Like you. And Nat, and the rest of the gang. I’m sorry, Stevie” “You don’t have to apologize, Y/N. I have you back now” he said, “Well, I mean… we have you back now. Not just me… um… you know what? I’m going to go check on the cookies” “Cookies?” “Yeah, I uh, baked you some chocolate chip cookies. They’re still your favorite, right?”

I nodded with a big smile on my face. With Steve going into the kitchen, Nat came into the living room.

“What was that all about?” asked Nat, with a smirk on her face “What?” I asked “You and Steve?” “Oh, nothing! We were just catching up is all” I smiled, “Hey, you never told me he broke up with Sharon” “It wasn’t my place to say. Steve told you?” “Yeah. I apologized for being such a crappy excuse of a friend and he told me I had nothing to apologize for” I said, “And then he said ‘I have you back now’” “What?” “Yeah, he said that, but then he got really awkward and went on to say that ‘we have you back now��� and then he bolted into the kitchen to check on the cookies” “I knew it” “What? What did you know?” I questioned “Oh, c’mon, Y/N, Steve totally still has feelings for you. He had them when you were with Jacob, he had them when he was with Sharon, and he still has them” explained Nat “What? No! Steve does not like me” I detested “You’re kidding me right? He totally digs you” said Sam “Um, when did you get here? And how’d you get in?” asked Nat “Calm down, red. I’m came with Clint and Bucky. May I remind you that your boyfriend Clint has a key?” “Where is said boyfriend of mine?” asked Nat “Probably in the kitchen eating the cookies Steve was baking. Am I correct in assuming he was baking them for you, Y/N?” asked Sam “Uh, yeah. He’s just being nice” I said “Right” smirked Sam

Bucky came into the living room and lifted me up into a tight hug. Besides from Nat, Bucky was my bestest friend. He’s one the reasons I met Steve. He invited Steve to a movie we were going to watch and we instantly clicked. When I found out Steve was friends with Nat, we were basically inseparable. My two best friends were friends with Steve Rogers. It was like the world wanted us to meet. Bucky knows basically everything there is to know about me, just like Nat. He also knows how important the relationship I had with Jacob was to me.

“You okay, doll?” “I’ve been better, barnes” “I bet. Don’t let that douchebag get you down. You have all of us. And we are going to eat all the pizza and ice cream in the world and we’re gonna sing ABBA at the top of our lungs until the whole world disappears. How does that sound, doll?” “Perfect” I laughed “That’s what I like to hear!” he hollered

Steve came out with his freshly baked cookies accompanied with strawberry flavored milk and placed them right in front of me. Everyone around us looked at each other with knowing eyes, but I couldn’t focus on anyone but Steve.

“So, what movie we watching” asked Sam “We’re gonna watch Mamma Mia” answered Steve “No, we don’t have to” I added “I think we kinda do” argued Bucky

I smiled before nodding my head in agreement. Nat logged into her Netflix account and started playing Mamma Mia. Steve was about to go sit next to Bucky, but I grabbed him and pulled him down next to me.

“I have to have my karaoke buddy next to me. You will sing with me, right?” I asked “Of course” he smiled

We sang along with every song, even Nat joined in once the lyrics were on the screen. The movie was about to come to a close and that’s when the song started to play again.

If you need me, let me know, gonna be around If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown Honey I'm still free Take a chance on me

“Steve?” I whispered He hummed in response, turning his head to face me. “We can go dancing, we can go walking, as long as we're together” I sang “Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better” he sang back “Steve... I… Will you take a chance on me? I’ve known love before, but I never thought it would take on a new direction. I never thought it would lead me to you” “I’ve been waiting for you, doll. Since the day I met you” We slowly leaned into kiss each other and when our lips finally met, everyone yelled out “Mamma Mia!”

[somemellifluouswords]

Who Will Love Me

Listen as you read! Thank you lovelies!

Steaks of yellow sunlight seeping through the curtains blended into his bare golden skin. He woke with a dissatisfied groan, rubbing at his eyes with callused palms. Elbows dig into the mattress as eyes fell towards the side next to him, a sudden wave of familiarity washing over him.

She lay on her side, knuckles pressing into her crimson cheek. Strands of hair cascaded her face, messy against the white fabric of the pillow her head rested atop. Ever so gently, he used the tips of his fingers to push loose strands behind her ear, letting his fingers linger against the soft warm skin.

She shifted, sinking herself further into the sheets, his comfiest flannel dressing her body, leaving her bare legs entangled with his. Grayson leaned down, gently pressing his lips to the apple of her left cheek, trailing butterfly kisses all the way to her jaw line.

Her peaceful eyes twitched, curling her toes as the tips of his messy hair trickled along her skin. He could feel her lashes pressing against his jaw, hand gently pushing him back, pressing into the warmth of his chest. She giggled as he pulled away, eyes drowsy, lips awaiting a proper morning kiss.

“Morning”, the greeting flew from his mouth gruff and hoarse, as he watched her eyes dance to his lips, lifting herself up so that her palms sunk into the mattress. “Good morning” she whispered, leaning in closer. He met her halfway, hand resting into the crook of her neck. She was slow against his lips, taking her time to mold hers against his.

She giggled, running fingers over his scruff, leaning herself further towards him, until he tugged at the hem of his flannel she wore. Giggled erupted from her again.

But then they faded, because she wasn’t really there.

Grayson trudged towards the bathroom, running a hand through his dark tendrils. The spice of mint exploded in his mouth as he brushed his teeth, running his eyes over his face, lonely and tired. He filled the palms of his hands with cold water, splashing it against his face, gasping as he came up for air. Without opening his eyes, he dabbed a towel over his features. When he did open his eyes, there she was, perched atop the vanity counter, bare legs resting against the granite, feet dangling. He shuffled towards her, resting his arms around her body, nudging her nose with his, turning her attention to him.

“What’s going in that beautiful head of yours?” He asked, chuckling as she threw her head back. “Nothing!” she squealed, pulling carefully at his air as he peppered her neck with kisses, not allowing her to bring her head back into place.

Grayson’s hearty and boisterous laugh filled the air as he pulled his lips away from her skin, to realize he was laughing to an empty room.

The radio played softly, an ancient song with a sweet tune flowing through the kitchen. The first sip of coffee surged through his body, as he absently tapped his finger against the round wooden table. The morning paper sat opposite him, in front of the seat next to the window. He reached for it, until someone pulled it back.

“I’m still reading Gray” she playfully scolded, a coy smile on her lips. He shrugged, releasing the paper. She smiled in satisfaction, flipping onto the section with the comic cartoons. The sun was glowing onto her bare shoulders, the apples of her cheeks. Particles of dust danced around her. Her hair was down, pulled behind her ears, face bare completely. Today she wore a white sundress, an older one, slightly ruffled in places once smooth. Thin straps rested above her collarbones. Under the table, she collided her foot with his, smiling to herself every time he teasingly rubbed his against her ankle.

“Look at this!” she announced, pushing the paper towards him. He let his eyes fall to the cartoon comic, a political joke made, and he chuckled.

“That’s quirky” he stated, looking up, only to be met with an empty seat

His breathing was heavy, music blaring through his headphones loud in his ears. His shorts and shirt cling to his chest, sun rays burning through the fabric, igniting his skin. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he surged, long heavy pounding strides.

Grayson stopped suddenly, wiping at the beads of sweat settled on his forehead, breathing in the scent of wild jasmine, green grass and pine fragrance of the forest. He leaned his forehead against a tree, the bark almost cutting into his skin. With closed eyes, he tried to regain his breath, until his eyes shot open at the sound of footsteps behind him.

She stood not far off, carefully stepping into the morning wet grass, a cardigan atop her dress shielding her from the cold. Still with a bare face, but hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. He released air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, chest lightening. She cocked her head to the side, concern washing over her face. He shook his head at her with smile that even caused the crinkles under his eyes, to which she responded with a chuckle, a light shake of her head. 

Taking a deep breath, she settled her eyes to the blue sky above. He heard her sniff, taking in the scent of wild jasmine, green grass and pine. He kept his eyes on her, taking slow steps, until she was inches away.

“C’mon” she said suddenly, without looking down. With an outstretched hand she waited for his to clasp around hers. He obliged, following her as she lead them to another tree, settling down and pulling him down with her. “Behind me” she ordered softly, cheeks crimson as he realized she wanted to sit in between his long limbs, tattooed and toned. His back rested against the trunk, his chest cushioning her back. She snuggled closer to him, her peachy and creamy scent overpowering that of Mother Nature. Grayson let his arms rest at her hips, tapping her sides as she pulled a novel out of her book bag.

“I’ll read to you for a little” she mumbled, already running her digits over the last page she’d read him. “Mmhmm” his chest buzzed against her back as he agreed, settling his head into the crook of her neck, listening to the melancholy that was her voice as she read words from tattered pages.

Soon her voice and presence had faded, and he found himself listening to the rustling of leaves, alone on the damp grass.

This time he was running back home, out of the woods, except listening to the pounding of his feet, punching into solid ground, gravel crumbling beneath. Running. Running. Running.

“Grayson!” she called, causing him to halt, whip around to find her standing by a small cluster of scattered flowers, growing from the earth around the trees. Grayson chuckled, watching her as she crouched down to level with the daises, smiling as she trailed the tip of her pointer finger cautiously over the petals. “Pretty aren’t they?” he asked, crouching down next to her, but eyes only on her, the beauty of the bare face next to him, the beauty of those captivating eyes, blushing cheeks and rosy lips. Her hair was coming undone from the ponytail, and he gently pulled at the band holding it, letting it fall to the ground, smirking when she faced him, a surprised look on her face.

“Come here” he mumbled, her expression changed to curiosity, as he plucked daisies from the ground, hoisting himself out, free hand outstretched for her to take. Obeying, she let him pull her up, and lead her through more trees until they stopped at a small body of water, a log waiting for the two of them.

He settled himself on the log, tugging at the hem of her dress, guiding her till she was settled on his lap. Her naked knees sunk into the soil beneath them, and he smirked, as she blushed, while he shamelessly ran his eyes over her. She breathed out then, eyebrows raised, asking him in silence what he was up to.

Within in seconds his was plucking daisies off their stems, her hands fumbling with the collar of his shirt. She giggled, when he began to place daisies in her hair. And when she wouldn’t stay still, unable to hide her blushing cheeks, tingling insides, he held onto her waist, keeping her firm.

“All done” he breathed out, examining the masterpiece of a human being whose lips were inches from his. “Thank you, I hope I look amazing” she leaned in carefully, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he pulled her closer. As she motioned her head down so that her lips would touch his, daisies fell onto him, and she flushed her lips against his. Grayson hummed in content, tasting her cherry chapstick. His hands pulled at her cardigan, running his fingers down her arms as he tugged the fabric down to her waist.

When he pulled back for air, his eyes shot open, only to realize he sat alone, with a lap full of withered daisies.

You're going to do great! Trust me this girl is the one for you. His brothers voice rang in his ears, the twinge of guilt for what he was about to put his dearest through, but a façade of hope on his face when he had come to collect Grayson after another tough day. She’s going to really love you, he’d whispered with his arms around him, holding him in a tight reassuring embrace. So this was why he stood before the mirror, dressed in a ironed white button up, unbuttoned, sleeves folded, a tie untied in his hands. He sighed, boring his eyes into that of the lifeless yet alive man before him. And then he heard the softest patter of feet against the cold wooden floor.

She had arrived into the room in silence, a shirt of his falling above her knees, goosebumps covering her exposed legs. Hai falling over her shoulder, face still bare, exposing her natural beauty. Her fingers trailed atop dresses hanging next to his shirts, over the silks and cottons, blues and greens. Pinks and purples, whites and greys. He cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. She turned to face him, eyebrows raised in question.

With a smug smile, he held out his tie to her, silently asking her for help. She bit her lip, making her way towards. He could smell her peachy creamy scent again, practically feel her breath fanning against his chest. She focused solely on the task of buttoning buttons, usual clumsy fingers an expert. He His tie went around his neck then, and with a smile on her face she pulled him down, so that his lips hovered above hers. Raising herself on her tip toes, she gave him a chaste kiss, pulling back to finish with the tie. 

“Now I need your help handsome” she breathed out, smoothing out the tie. Without question, Grayson moved towards the closet, running his eyes for the one and only dress he could see her in right now. A red, thin straps, flowing at her knees, a sweet heart neck line. “This one” he stated, pulling the dress of the hanger, turning around to face her.

But she wasn't there.

“Are you leaving now?” his brother asked from the other end of the line. Grayson sighed, slipping into a pair of shoes, leaning against the front door, not sure if he was capable of doing what he was about to. “Grayson” Ethan boomed from the other end. “Yes, yes I’m leaving” he muttered, shutting the door loudly so that his brother could hear, letting night settle onto him. “You're going to have a great time. I’m proud of you. And she would want this ...” Grayson gulped, settling into the drivers seat, tuning out Ethan in an instant. “Bye” he ended the call, running a tired hand through his hair, pulling at his tie in frustration.

Street lights danced across his body within the car, a song he couldn't quite distinguish playing softly in the back. The restaurant where his brother had organized a date for him was far, outskirts of town, one he had never been too. But it was fancy enough for a tie.

“I never really liked this song” a soft voice spoke from the passenger seat. He chuckled, turning the radio off, coming to a red light, turning to face her. She was alluring. Beautiful. His mouth felt dry, brain empty, heart beating rapidly. There she was, sitting next to him, red dress, hair curled loosely, falling behind her, tucked behind her ears. Long lashes, painted lips, and eyes he could get lost in. “You're beautiful” he breathed out, mesmerized with her. “So damn beautiful babe” she blushed, eyes falling to the ground, picking at her dress in flattery. 

A honk from behind made him jump, and when he looked from the now green light, pushing the on the accelerator and back to the passenger seat, it was empty.

“For Dolan please” he announced to the hostess waiting by the restaurant door. “Ah yes” she said with a smile leading him through tables and tables of elegant figures, sipping on wine and water. “This place is really fancy Gray, way out of our usual diners and drive ins” she said from behind him, clutching to his arm. He chuckled, causing the hostess to turn. “Did you say something sir?” she asked, confused. “Oh ... “ he began, turning around, but she was gone. “N-nothing” he said with a shake of his head. “Thank you” with a sigh he sat down, waiting for whoever it was his brother had sent.

Minutes later, a pretty girl, wearing a pink dress, hair pulled to the side smiled at him as she made her way towards him. He hesitated, rising from his seat. This mystery girl was closer and closer, until she caught his eye. Her fingers played with the petals scattered on the table cloth, skin golden against the lit candle. 

“Hi I’m ...” he didn't catch the mystery girls name, fearing to look away from the occupied seat before him. She smiled up at him, “why don't you sit down?” she asked softly. “Grayson?” the mystery girl spoke, concerned. She reached for the chair, but Grayson was abrupt to stop her. “No! You cant sit there!” he exclaimed, a little to loud. The mystery girl was taken aback, confused. “Why not?” she asked pulling at her hair nervously.

“Because” he stated, staring blankly at the girl he loved in the seat, “she’s sitting there! Can't you see?” he roared, angry. Curious eyes fell to him, to the broken hearted boy. “No ones there Grayson” the mystery girl responded softly, her own heart breaking. He was angry now, finally meeting her concerned eyes, flashing her his own angry one, fired with rage. “She’s right there!” he boomed, the restaurant going silent. With heavy breaths he dropped his eyes to the seat before him.

It was empty.

It was raining outside now, loud in his ears, as he sat on the edge of the bed, tie loosened. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers pulling at his hair in frustration. “Gray could you please give me hand?” he heard her call from the bathroom. He rose hastily, taking long strands towards the bathroom. She was struggling with her zipper, leaning into his chest as he came behind her. “Here” he whispered, adjusted her so that he held onto her waist, knuckles trailing along her  back as he unzipped. She breath out a sigh of relief, turning around to undo his already loose tie, and unbutton his shirt. 

Grayson leaned into her as her cold hands absently trailed on his firm abdomen. “Sorry” she whispered, pulling her hand back from his, realizing how cold her hands were. They always had been. “No, no” he reassured, gently pushing against her, till he locked her against the wall. He smirked, feeling her body warm under his touch, eyes fall to anywhere but his. She was always shy.

Slowly he leaned in, touching her lips slightly at first, and then all at once, kissing her harder. He felt her cheeks burn when he cupped them, parting from her lips the smallest diameter to chuckle, turning her so that he could lead her towards the bed. 

Her head hit the back of a pillow, as his lips trailed down her neck and collarbone. He felt her squeeze his hand entangled with hers, listening to the mellifluous sounds emitting from her, faint and shy, crimson cheeks as he pushed his hips softly against her, trailed his fingers over her figure.

“I love you” she said breathlessly, kiss swollen lips and passionate eyes, thumbs stroking his scruffy jaw. He smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you too”

He fell next to her, and within a blink she was gone.

He wasn't sure when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke with a start later that night, his shirt and tie discarded somewhere, pants from the hours before still clinging to his thighs. He rolled over, to meet with her sleeping figure. Just like the morning, she was pressed into the mattress, hair sprawled, knuckles against the apple of her cheek. Bare legs, except this time she wore his white shirt. The first top buttons was slightly undone, exposing her soft skin and the slightest of lace resting against her sternum.

He cautiously grazed his finger along her side, smiling when she squirmed. When her eyes fluttered open, he smiled, lying back on his back, knowing she’d fit in right next to him. With a heavy sleepy body, she lifted herself up, resting her head against his exposed chest, his own throat sitting atop her head. With limbs entangled and his arms tight around her, he began to run the tips of his fingers  in her scalp, hearing her sigh in satisfaction. 

Her lashes brushed against his naked skin, and he felt her gulp. 

“Gray?” she whispered, barely audible over the rain.

“I’ll love you till my last breath” with that she closed her eyes, her breathing becoming steady as she fell into sleep. 

And she did love him till her last breath.

“I’ll love you till mine” he announced a little louder, closing his own eyes, holding her close. 

And he continued to love her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, because he was still breathing.

Even when she wasn't really there.

.....

Masterlist

[storyteller15]

Chapter Six: The Selection

I groaned and stirred my body around in a different position.

Last night had to be the one of the best moments of my life. Despite the fact that I never got my picture back, I did something that at least made me feel a little better: Comforting Asriel. I considered myself lucky to be pardoned by him for leaving the second floor. Of course, I will be following the rules for now on. Maybe . . ?

I was doing fine sleeping so far until I hear my door creak open. Oh no . . . I shifted my body around, laying on my stomach in hopes that they ignore me and allow me to sleep in more. In the background, I can hear my maids talking in hushed voices. With a soft sigh, I knew my sleep is going to end shortly when I felt someone standing over me.

"Good morning, my lady," Barbara whispers, tapping my shoulder. "It's time to get up."

I whined and pulled my sheets over my head. "When will I ever get to have the time to sleep more?"

I hear Barbara and Lesley giggle at my protest. In the background, I can hear someone's flat heels clacking against the rug and the sounds of curtains swinging open. Through the back of my eyelids, I watched the warm sunshine make my vision look orangey-red, even if my bed sheets are covering my face.

Ugh . . . Sunlight.

"Please wake up, my lady. You wouldn't want to be late on meeting the royal family." Lesley insists; her voice filled with worry.

My eyes shot open, pulling my sheets away from my head as I moved my body upward.

Dammit! Why is it that I always forget about important stuff whenever I wake up? I really need to make a mental note to myself about these things so I don't forget. Maybe sleep has its benefits of making us forget the good and bad things. Thus, the important things like meeting the king and queen.

"Alright, you got me. I'm completely awake." I said, my voice sounding groggy.

"Would you like to wear the light cyan sweetheart neckline gown, or the strapless pink ombré gown decorated with some glitter?" Lesley asks, holding the lovely gowns in front of me.

I squinted at them, trying to think. The pink to me is asking for too much attention. Maybe I will wear it in another occasion; perhaps if Asriel plans a ball that involves looking gorgeous. The light cyan on the other hand, looks almost simple because it didn't have that much glitter like the pink one. The color itself reminds me of the ocean back at home.

To be honest, I'm not trying to impress Asriel and his family. I only present myself as what I am. I won't let the competition change me no matter what. I'm so grateful to have Bryn pick out my dress designs for me to wear during The Selection. She knows my tastes far too well.

"I'll go with the light cyan today, Lesley. Thank you." I get up, stretching my arms out as Barbara helps me get undressed out of my tank top and soft shorts.

"Fine choice, my lady," Lesley beams, hanging it over the screen.

"I still can't believe you got to meet Prince Asriel; it was quite lucky of you. Perhaps it's fate!" Barbara squeals happily, laying out my white matching undergarments for my gown.

I chuckled nervously, feeling my cheeks flushed rosy pink. "I wasn't meant to Barbara, I'm still feeling guilty for disobeying the rules."

"Don't fret about that my lady," Lesley  moves my hair out of my face. "You had a good reason, and we respect it. Prince Asriel is very kind to his subjects. Perhaps you mean something to him my lady."

"I suppose so," I answered solemnly, walking into the bathroom to brush my teeth while Barbara and Lesley prepares my makeup items for me to wear today.

In the mirror, my hair was completely a mess as if I had been fighting off clingy vines as I slept. Eye crusts rested in the inner corners of my eyes, waiting for me to rub them off my face. Ah, my lazy look. I wish I could wear this look for just one day . . . No makeup, no fancy clothes, and no waking up early. Sadly, it rarely happens now because people will barge into my room, needing me to get ready for various important things. I dismissed those thoughts as I rinsed my mouth and washed my face.

In the background, I hear Barbara shuffle past me just to start my shower. I was told that I shouldn't wet my hair when I shower, because the oils in my hair will make it easier to work with if you need to style it. So, I decided to wrap my hair into a bun, removing my thin bra and light pink underwear off as Barbara dismisses herself out the bathroom. Making my way inside the shower, I close the thin glass door behind me and welcome the hot water running down my body. Ah, there's nothing like a good hot body shower can make my morning worth to wake up to. I quickly grabbed my melon cucumber scented soap and scrubbed until every last trace of smelly sweat was gone.

After my quick body shower, I sit down in front of my vanity, cuddled in my white fluffy robe to watch as Barbara do my hair. First, she brushes the tangles out of my long hair. Then she twists half of my hair into two curled rose-like messy buns and secures them with swirled pins decorated with aqua blue crystals. The rest of my hair is draped over my back, since I wasn't in the mood to have all my hair up. So, my hair is in a half up-do. And to make my hair look prettier, she curls the ends of my hair in a soft form. Barbara then parts my hair strands to each side of my face to frame it. I raised my eyebrow at them; I probably need to style my hair some other time. However, I do love the way Barbara did my hair. I should have her teach me how so I can do it on Bryn someday.

With my hair done, it was time to do my makeup.

I had Lesley skip my lips, so she starts by applying some rosy-pink blush over the apples of my cheeks and lightly dabbing some white eye glitter over the inner corners of my eyes to make them look noticeable. Next, Lesley uses a black liquid eyeliner, winging it downwards to give my makeup an innocent look. And because my dress is light cyan, the outer corners of my eyelids are lightly dabbed with an icy blue eyeshadow, finishing it off with some of the eye glitter she used for my inner corners to give my eyeshadow that frosty theme. Finally, she adds a little mascara on my lashes, curling them a little. I love the way Lesley does my makeup! She doesn't put too much, only what is necessary to make my look dazzle.

Of course, I didn't think any jewelry was necessary. So, Barbara and Lesley helps me dress into my beautiful light cyan sweetheart neckline gown over my beige strapless bra and underwear that Barbara picked out for me to wear since it is strapless after all. My gown sparkled like the ocean, making me feel homesick. The skirt at least felt light enough for me to carry it when I walk. After Lesley zips up my dress, I slowly walk over to the raised platform that stood in front of the three mirrors that lets me see myself in different angles. From behind, I can hear my maids sigh in awe.

"Wow! You look so beautiful! I'm so glad that you chose this dress. It looks gorgeous on you!" Barbara bleated for joy.

"Thank you, Barbara. You and Lesley are the reason why I look this way." I said earnestly, smiling at both of them.

"You're too kind, my lady," Lesley flushed red, feeling flattered. "Oh for goodness' sake! It's almost time to meet up with the other girls. Please remember to square your shoulders and keep looking straight when you meet with the royal family." Lesley takes my hand, setting down my white low-high heels down for me to slip them on.

I smiled happily to myself. I don't have to wear those ridiculous high heels that makes your entire feet ache from walking. "Yes Lesley, I will." I promised as I hugged both of my maids gratefully.

"Good. Now off you go! Good luck, Zefie dear!"

I wave them goodbye, picking up the hem of my skirt a little, as I walk out the door. I walked down from the west wing over to the middle of the second floor where it separates both the east and west. There I stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button that had a glowing yellow arrow pointing down. According to Lesley, I have to take the elevator to to get to where I should be going. It seems there are certain places that have no stairs leading to them, and can only be accessed via the elevators.

With a loud swoosh sound, the elevator doors opened wide to welcome me inside. As I walk in, I noticed that the other side of the elevator also has a set of double doors and a panel of buttons that are labeled with numbers one to ten, with a few letters next to them. Interesting, I underestimated the palace. It really is bigger than I imagined judging by the sectors each button can lead me to in this enormous palace. Maybe even big enough to get lost into it like a maze. If I can memorize the entire place, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all. That is if I remember where I'm going.

Once the doors closed shut, I pressed the elevator button that's labeled 'P-1', feeling the elevator rumble under my low-high heels. I felt the walls shake a bit, hearing the elevator hum loudly as it takes me down to the first floor. No elevator music, thank goodness. I really dislike elevator music because it's a bit awkward. Silence is what I need even though people don't like it one bit.

Deep into my thoughts, I reminisce through last night's encounter, thinking about how Asriel scooped me up into his arms like a gentleman. The way his fur tingled against my bare legs and arms, giving me goosebumps. And the way my heart skipped a whole lot of beats just seeing his face near mine. His green eyes even looked beautiful under the moonlight. Perhaps we could start from where we left off. But then again, I don't even know if Asriel will recognize me under this glamorous attire . . .

Just then, the elevator shakes to a sudden stop, snapping me out of my dark thoughts and back to reality. I shook my head slowly, realizing the big mistake I was making. What am I saying? I shouldn't be putting myself down and thinking the worst. I promised Bryn that I'd stop doing that. My face suddenly went pale. Bryn! Crap, I cursed to myself. I forgot to text her to let her know that I won't have my phone for awhile. It's too late now, so no need to add that to my list of worries. Looks like she'll have to wait.

I shrugged my shoulders as the doors opened wide, leading me into the familiar corridor. This was where we had our interview and where the palace entrance is located. I walked to the opposite direction to another corridor, leading me to a new area where I can see all the Selection girls present and prepared to meet the royal family. I guess I was the last one, or perhaps the girls couldn't wait to meet them, so they decided to come early. To my surprise, I find Fiona having a rather interesting conversation with Malachite. I wonder . . . How long will her facade last for her to finally ends her game and acts true to herself?

"Hey, there you are!" Colleen surprises me with a big hug from behind.

"Colleen, hi!" I giggled against her chest, returning the hug.

"Where were you last night? I was hoping that you would join me and Delilah to watch the broadcast together last night." She pouts at me, looking a little sad.

My entire body was chilled to the bone. I hope she didn't come look for me in my room.

"I was asleep, I'm sorry. The long travels from Aura Cove to Berdea really got me super tired."

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense," She nods knowingly. "You should have seen yours! It was fantastic and amazing! They made you look majestic and exquisite!"

"Wha?! No way." I gaped at her, feeling my cheeks flushed red.

She smirks at me, giving me a playful wink. "Way! I'll show it to you on my phone later. Anyway, are you excited to meet Prince Asriel as much as I am?!"

I chuckled nervously. Oh I met him already, I thought to myself. He's a very wonderful person, and is good with his hilarious puns. Sadly, I promised Asriel to not tell anyone about me encountering him last night, which was fair enough.

"Y-yeah, I am."

"You're not getting cold feet, are ya?" Delilah appears beside us, dressed in a beautiful violet gown, with her skirt decorated in amethyst jewels.

Do I look that obvious? "Maybe."

"Aw cheer up, Zefie! Perhaps seeing his face should melt those cold feet of yours." Colleen encourages me.

"Yeah, you'll do fine." Delilah pats my shoulder.

"I love your dress, Delilah! It looks good with your lavender hair!" Colleen gushes.

"Thanks, I like your orange dress. What made you decide to wear that color today?"

"It's my good luck color!" She twirls around as her skirt flowed with her body. "I just thought maybe There's a seventy percent chance that I'll go on a date with Prince Asriel today!"

I chuckled and smiled at her optimism. "I'm sure you will, Colleen. Asriel can't resist colors that match the sun."

"Really?! Thanks, Zefie!" She gushes, wrapping her arms around me as I uttered an "oof."

In the corner of my eye, I spot scarlet wearing a beautiful emerald green gown, with her long hair made into lovely curls. I should go talk to her.

"Can you guys give me a minute? I'm gonna go try and have a chat with Scarlet."

"Sure, come find us soon. We have less than five minutes before Mettaton shows up." Delilah reminds me, before Colleen releases me and  began to walk towards Scarlet.

The last time I saw her was when we went inside the palace together. Well, before I got lost. Other than that, even if she acts like she doesn't need anyone, I'm still not giving up on trying to be her friend. Scarlet can't compete alone. She at least needs someone to talk to.

"Hey, Scarlet," I greeted her, giving her the needed space.

She looks at me with her dark brown eyes. "Hello, Zafrina."

"I uh . . . Well uh . . . You look pretty. I love the color of your gown." I felt flustered and angry for not finding the right words to compliment her.

"Thanks."

There was a long terrifying silence, before I realized that she's not in the mood for a brief chat. Why must she seclude herself away from the others?  I know she's not bad like Fiona, but . . .

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll go ahead and let you have your space." I turned away, walking back to where I can see Delilah and Colleen talking with another Selection girl.

"Hey, I heard about Fiona toying with your feelings," Scarlet begins to say, even though my back was facing her. "I'm sorry she did that, she doesn't deserve any kindness after what she did. So, watch your back."

I gasped softly and smiled, turning my head to face her. "Thank you, I will."

"Good morning darlings~!" Mettaton beams at us, wearing the same outfit as yesterday. Except he's now wearing a black tuxedo, decorated with glitter over his magenta long sleeve collar shirt. "I assumed you all slept well and prepared yourselves to meet the prince and his family?"

The girls all screamed happily in response, as I make my way towards Colleen. I latched onto her arm, just to prevent myself from getting lost in the crowd. From the corner of my eye, I find Fiona 'smiling' at me, waving. I pretended that I didn't see her, turning my head to focus on Mettaton.

"Alright then, let's go ahead and go over the plan. So, listen carefully, darlings." Everyone then stops to listen to what we'll be doing.

I felt my stomach twisting into knots again, making me feel lightheaded.

"As you know, Prince Asriel and his family are waiting patiently in the grand ballroom. When your name is called, all you have to do is walk to them, curtsy, and introduce yourselves. You will say your name, town, and the names of your parents. Sound easy enough for you, darlings?"

The girls replied by nodding, while I tried to hide my anxieties behind Colleen. Delilah rubs my back, noticing my pink sparks of magic dancing across my fingertips. Why must I always get nervous at a time like this?

"Just breathe, Zefie," Delilah whispers to me, continuing to rub my back. "Breathe in and out slowly, we're right here."

Colleen rubs my arm, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "Try closing your eyes, it'll prevent your magic from getting out of hand. Trust me, it helps."

I do what they say, breathing in and out with my eyes closed. In the background, I don't exactly hear what Mettaton was saying, only hearing nothing but my heart pumping loudly enough for everyone to hear it. I leaned against Colleen's arm, continuing my breathing exercise.

"Alright, darlings, it's time! Please listen for royal guards Papyrus and Sans when they call your names! Now I must go, I've got other things to do that involves the media, good luck darlings, ta-ta~!" Mettaton waves before he disappears down the hallway.

"Huh? Who's Papyrus?" Delilah asks, sounding puzzled to whoever that person was.

"WHY, THAT WOULD BE ME, HUMAN!" Papyrus appears next to her, posing in heroic way as his scarf fluttered dramatically like a cape.

I gasped, smiling in an instant to see his goofy face. "Papyrus!"

"NYEH?! AH! IT'S YOU, HUMAN MAGE ZEFIE! YOU LOOK LOVELY TODAY!" He gushes at me, taking my hands into his

"Wait, you know this tall skeleton dude?!" Delilah asks, flabbergasted at our happy reunion.

I chuckled softly. "Of course! He's one of the royal guards who helped me when I got lost yesterday."

"INDEED I WAS!" He shouts, his voice filled with energy. "IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, POOR HUMAN MAGE ZEFIE WOULD HAVE BEEN LOST AND ALONE!"

"Ooh! Pleased to meet you, Papyrus!" Colleen shakes his hand.

"Y-yeah, same." Delilah smiles at him.

"WHAT A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU ALL! NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE AN IMPORTANT DUTY TO DO AS A ROYAL GUARD!" He waves us goodbye, speed-walking towards the entrance to the ballroom.

"I don't know about you guys," Delilah says, watching as some of the girls disappear when Papyrus calls for each of them. "But I kinda find it hard to believe he's in one of the royal guards. He's just too . . ."

"Innocent? Yes I know, but we may never know until we see him in action." I replied, feeling my anxieties shrink again.

"Gosh, she has a point. I would love to see how he fights." Colleen giggles as she sways her bushy tail around.

Just then, I spot Sans walking down our way, keeping a goofy grin on his face.

"Sup, kiddo."

"Morning, Sans." I waved as he walked by, joining his brother.

Delilah and Colleen gaped at me, opening their mouths, but I cut them off quickly.

"He's Papyrus' older brother. He works as a royal guard, too."

"What? No way, don't you think he's a little too short?" Delilah raises her eyebrow at Sans as if she doesn't believe me.

"Hey, appearances can deceive us." I shrugged my shoulders.

"SANS! YOU LAZY BONES!" Papyrus begins to yell at his brother. "YOU ARE ONE MINUTE AND TWENTY-ONE . . . NO TWENTY-TWO . . . TWENTY-THREE . . . NYEH! YOU ARE LATE! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"

"Heh. Sorry, Paps, I had a skele-ton of work that had to be done." He shrugs his shoulders with a wink, watching Papyrus stomping around.

"ENOUGH OF YOUR DUMB PUNS, SANS! AND QUIT USING THEM IN FRONT OF THE SELECTION GIRLS! NOW THAT YOU'RE HERE, IT'S TIME THAT WE FOCUS ON OUR DUTY!"

"Sure. Whatever you say, Paps."

The three of us snickered a laugh. I can see why Claire finds the skeleton brothers entertaining. The way they argue is nearly identical to a married couple, but in a brotherly way. Sans is mysterious no doubt, but his bad puns and smart pranks can make some people laugh. Papyrus is a hard worker, filled with positive energy that puts a smile on everyone's faces. Together, they make a great team.

"COLLEEN DARWIN?" Papyrus calls out.

"Oh! That's me! Wish me luck, guys!" Colleen beams happily, walking forward.

"Luck!” Delilah and I said in usion.

We watched as Colleen beamed with joy as she walked through the huge double doors Papyrus and Sans stood to either side. There are actually two ways to get into the ballroom. One is where the skeleton brothers are, the other is down the hallway. That entrance is for the very important guests that aren’t from Berdea or Auradon. Curiosity suddenly made me wonder what the ballroom looks like. I heard that it overlooks the gardens and the forest where we can see Mount Ebott.

Suddenly, Delilah clears her throat. My thoughts were paused at the moment as I turned to who she was looking at. My entire body went still as if they weren’t functioning anymore. Standing a few feet away is Malachite, giving us a cold stare. Beside her is the two-faced Fiona.

"I don't think we’ve met," A wicked smile spreads across her face. "I'm Malachite Levoue, you can call me Mal for short."

"I know who you are, you're that famous monster model from Coloratura that poses in fricken bikinis." Delilah hisses, her voice sounding distraught.

"Oh, don't lose your temper, dearie. I'm only here to get to know my competitors. I see we have a mage in the Selection? Alban isn't it?" Malachite turns her attention to me, her stares sending me chills deep into my spine. Something felt very . . . Wrong.

"Yes."

"How nice. I'd love to see you perform your magic some other time, little witch. Anyway, besides the introductions, I’m actually here to give you two a friendly warning. Don't get in my way, I won't get in yours." She warns us with a vicious glare, leaving us speechless before Sans calls out her name.

"See you at the ballroom, buddies," Fiona sneers at us, joining Malachite.

I immediately grabbed on to Delilah's wrist before she tries anything rash. "Delilah, don't. It's not worth it." I begged her.

Her breathing was laboring, but my grip on her didn't falter as I watched her face turn red out of anger before she finally spoke again.

"But she was pestering us for no reason!" She tried to pull her arm away, but I refused to let go as she kept a hard expression on her face.

"This is the type of reaction she wants from us," I held her close, hoping she would calm down. "If you let your temper get out of hand, you will be eliminated. And we are not going to play their game. Malachite and Fiona will have to do better than that if they're going to try to get us out of the competition."

Delilah takes a few more deep breaths before facing me. I sighed in relief as her expression begins to soften up. Thank goodness. I pull her over to the side for a little while as we watched more girls disappear through the doors. It didn't take long before Delilah was being herself again.

"Thanks, Zefie. You really saved my ass there." She says, her voice sounding grateful.

I responded by smiling at her. “It’s what friends do. And by that, I mean actual real friends.”

Delilah wraps her arms around me as I did the same. The number of girls remaining began to dwindle fast as Sans or Papyrus called out names. So far, only twelve human mages, with me included, entered the Selection. It was a fair number enough to ease my worries of being the only one.

It didn't take long before Delilah was called out to go. It was then, as I took a good look around, I began to realize that I was going to be called last. Oh. Oh, no, no, no, no.

Suddenly, my stomach twisted in an excruciating angle again. Why must I have be the last one? I asked myself. They must be doing a random draw, instead of going alphabetically. Or else I would have been first, because my last name starts with an 'A'.

"OOH! ZEFIE ALBAN!" Papyrus shouts, making me jump. "IT IS YOUR TURN TO GO!"

I took a few deep breaths, walking down the hallway where I can see Papyrus and Sans waiting for me.

"You're the final one to come up, kid." Sans spoke too, giving me a wide confident grin.

This is it, I thought to myself. Pretend that you never met Prince Asriel last night, pretend that you're surprised to finally get to see him.

My hands began to tremble, clutching my skirt tightly until my knuckles became white. Stay calm, stay clam! I begged myself. I really need to get over my anxiety quick. If I don't, I'll probably end up--

I felt my heels step over the hem of my skirt, making me lose my balance. The next thing I know, I watched as the floor was prepared to meet my face. Just then, I felt two arms stopping me from reaching the floor. I gasped and looked up to find Papyrus and Sans holding me up.

"Don't worry, kid," he gave me a wink. "Everybody falls for the prince."

"SANS! THIS IS NO TIME FOR YOUR RIDICULOUS PUNS!" Papyrus scolds him.

"Heh, sorry. I can't help myself, Paps. It was an opportunity I just had to catch."

"SAAANS!!"

I couldn't help but laugh so hard at their argument before Sans began to speak again.

"Anyway, don't worry, kid. We won't let you fall. Not in our watch."

"WE BELIEVE IN YOU, HUMAN MAGE ZEFIE!"

I gasped softly, smiling at both of them as they helped me stand up again. "Thank you, Sans. Thank you, Papyrus."

"NO NEED TO THANK US! NOW, GET IN THERE AND SHAKE THOSE BONES UP WITH CONFIDENCE!" Papyrus says, his voice voice filled with encouragement.

"What he said." Sans grins at me.

With a few deep breaths, I squared my shoulders and held my head a bit high as I slowly walked inside.

Suddenly, my eyes widened, the ballroom is absolutely breathtaking. The only similarity I can compare it with, is the ballroom I saw from Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast'. However, it is even more exquisite than the movie itself. Instead of the floors and columns being brownish, it was more in a creamy-beige color that blended well with marble. The floor pattern had quite a few tiles shaped as the golden flowers imprinted in different yellow shades over the square tiles. The arched windows stood tall, overlooking the forest and the beautiful skies of Berdea.

Over to my left, I see all of the girls standing on the side patiently. In the corner of my eye, I notice that Colleen and Delilah were grinning at me, making me smile even more. It only took me a moment before I found King Asgore and Queen Toriel standing at the far end of the ballroom with Prince Asriel and Princess Frisk standing between them. All of them, except Asgore, were wearing their royal robes with the Delta Rune symbol over their chests. Asgore was wearing a dark purple cape that draped over his shoulders and gold metal armor. His gold crown, with a big red ruby encrusted in the middle sat neatly atop his blond hair.

I swallowed hard, keeping a gentle expression on my face as I finally reached them and came to a slow stop. Just as Mettaton ordered us, I curtsied with my head lowered deeply to show my highest respect to Nanny's best friends. The silence was killing me, hearing my heart beating loudly in a fast pace.

This is it, I thought to myself. The truth will finally come out. All of the girls will know now.

"Hello, Your Majesties," I spoke softly, but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear me. "My name is Zafrina Alban of Aura Cove, I am the daughter of Runa Cordelia."

In the background, I hear Toriel let out a loud gasp, making my body flinch a little as I raised my head up slowly.

"Zefie?" Toriel gaped at me, her red eyes twinkling brighter than any jewel, exposed her excitement. "You're Runa's child?!"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty--"

Just then, I stopped talking when she runs towards me, wrapping her soft arms around me in a big hug as I uttered an "oof" for the second time today.

"Oh my, look at you! You're so beautiful and so mature!" Toriel gushes.

My cheeks flushed rosy pink in embarrassment. In the background, I can hear the girls whispering to each other. Colleen looked like she was going to explode from the overwhelming joy that danced across her face. Well, so much for trying to stay out of the spotlight . . .

Asgore chuckled softly, approaching us and hugged me as well. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle before I returned the hug.

"It is an honor to meet our dearest best friend's daughter in the flesh," he spoke in a low rumbling voice that sent me chills down to my spine.

Malachite gaped at me. She's probably surprised by the fact that I'm the daughter of the king and queen's best friend. The daughter of the last seal monster, a Selkie. Great, another thing added to my list of worries.

"You may not look like her, but I can see her personality in yours." Asgore beamed, cupping my face with his big warm hands.

I blinked, still feeling embarrassed as he released me. The only response I can give them is a shy smile. As my gaze drifted, my eyes met with Asriel's for a moment. He smirked at me, keeping his 'innocent' expression plastered. Frisk fidgeted in place, looking so eager to meet me.

"Thank you, Your Majesties." The two of them smiled at me before Toriel spoke again.

"We'll have to catch up with details sometime, my child. Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you, Zefie. I am Toriel, and that tall handsome fellow is my husband," she looks over towards Asgore as he smiled sheepishly before she bends down to whisper something in my ear. "But you can call him 'Mr. Fluffybuns.'"

I quickly bit my tongue down to hold back my laugh, putting a hand over my trembling mouth. So that's the one Nanny was talking about with Toriel. It's no wonder they laugh about it so much. I looked up at Toriel as she gave me a wink putting her finger over her lip.

"It's a great honor to meet you both," Toriel gave me a warm smile before she takes her place next to Asgore, allowing me to meet Asriel again face-to-face.

Asriel chuckled nervously, clearing his throat before he finally spoke. "H-hello, Miss Zafrina. I'm Prince Asriel, it is a great pleasure of having you compete in my Selection." He bows as my heart pounded loudly.

"Hello, Your Majesty. it's nice to meet you, too."

For a second, I thought I just saw the corner of his lip twitched when I used his formal name. Gotcha.

"Haha. Well then, Miss Zafrina, I do hope I get to have the chance to talk with you again," His voice rose a little after he spoke the last word, hinting last night's event when he threatened to have me date him. That is, if I don't call him by his real name.

I raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a small playful smirk. Game on, Prince.

I turned my attention away from him, before anyone catches our knowing glances towards each other. My eyes focuses on to Frisk, seeing her smile warmly at me. I adore her so much, she is the symbol of peace and mercy. Not only she freed the monsters from their prison, she also became the ambassador to speak for them.

"Hello, Your Highness," I curtsied before her. "It's nice to meet--"

Frisk suddenly surprises me by hugging me tightly, cutting me off as she lets out a soft giggle. "Hello, Zefie! it's nice to meet you, too! I've heard so much about you from my mother and father's letters! I hope we get the better chance to know each other some other time." She gushes, speaking in a gentle voice.

I didn't know how to respond to her, so I decided to return the hug before she released me. I gave her a soft smile and curtsied before I walked over to where Colleen and Delilah are waiting for me. Suddenly, my breath was caught in my throat when I felt some of the girls, including Malachite, staring at me. I let out a shaky breath as Delilah wrapped her arms around me.

"Don't mind them, Zefie," she reassures me in her hushed voice. "Who cares if they think you're a threat, I still see you as my friend."

"Delilah's right. Just because the king and queen acknowledged you as their best friend's daughter, doesn't mean that you're going to be treated better than the rest of us. They're not like that." Colleen holds my hand, giving them a tight squeeze.

I leaned against Colleen's arm before we hear Prince Asriel began to speak again. "Thank you, ladies. I would like to say how much it was a pleasure to meet every one of you. Each of you showed such potential, giving me hope that I will have a chance of finding my future wife during my Selection."

All of the girls responded by squealing and applauding at his response. I felt my heart feel constricted, clutching at my chest. This event has just been too overwhelming, I guess. However, it's still early, so perhaps a stroll around the palace should ease my nerves.

"Now that you've met my family," Asriel continued to speak, getting my attention again. "It's time that everyone joins us at the dining room, where our breakfast is prepared and served."

My stomach growled loudly once he mentioned food, making me gasp as I quickly hid behind Colleen. Some of the girls were looking around to see who made that strange sound. I turned and found Asriel glancing around before his gaze settled on me. Well, I'm fucked, I thought to myself as my cheeks flushed rosy pink in embarrassment. Oh god, I just wanna run back upstairs and hide in my room for the rest of the day.

To my surprise, Asriel puts his hand over his stomach. "Ah! My deepest apologies, I guess I'm feeling a bit famished. Shall we follow my parents to the dining room now?"

"Yes, that's a wonderful idea, my son. I, too am feeling hungry myself." Asgore chuckled, walking out of the ballroom with Toriel holding onto his arm.

Frisk and Asriel follow after them, exchanging a brief conversation in hushed voices. And finally, the rest of us followed as we exit the lovely ballroom. Delilah and Colleen wiggled their eyebrows at me as if they knew that Asriel said that just to save me from dying of embarrassment. I shook my head, putting my hands over my stomach. I can't help it, I just love food.

"That was so nice of him saving you like that," Delilah smirks at me, nudging my shoulders with hers.

"Right?! I'm so jealous, Zefie! Do you really love food that much?" Colleen asks, patting my head just to cheer me up.

"First of all, he's just trying to be nice. There wasn't exact proof that it was me," I said, unsure whether I was trying to comfort myself or dodge away from the subject.

"And second," I continued. "Yes I absolutely love food! Call me a fatty, but I can never go on throughout the day without having something in my stomach." I waved my arms dramatically as they laughed.

"You're not a fatty, you're just a person that loves food." Delilah yawns loudly, stretching her arms out.

"Ah, that reminds me," Colleen faces me as the three of us began to slow down, but kept a good distance enough to stay close to the group. "About your mom, Runa Cordelia. is that why you never said anything when I mentioned about her yesterday? Were you afraid that maybe we wouldn't like you if we found out?"

I blinked twice, almost forgetting about that before I answered. "Y-yeah, but it's mostly because I didn't want it to be a big deal for me when I compete. I just don't want the attention on me, that's all." I shrugged my shoulders, rubbing my arm meekly.

"Well don't feel that way, we're not going to be like Fiona and use it against you. We're friends Zefie, and nothing is going to change that."

"Yup. What she said," Delilah says earnestly.

"Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me."

Colleen began to squeal. "I still can't believe your mom is Runa! Her reputation is very high, did you know that her father was King Asgore's General?"

"What? Really?" Delilah's eyes went wide.

"Yup! My grandfather met him, too. He told me that General Cordelia's human form is suppose to be handsome to a human's standard."

"Pfft stop! I don't wanna hear anymore details!" I complained, making both of them chuckle.

We continued to follow after the girls, carefully keeping my hands over my stomach as if it will help keep the noises in, and trying not to be obvious at the same time. Coming from the same direction as to where the elevator is, we walk past it and find ourselves in another corridor, the columns lining them. My eyes lit up. I can smell something so inviting, feeling my mouth starting to salivate.

Just as I was about to mention the wonderful smell to Colleen and Delilah, I suddenly felt a strong hand grip my wrist. In one quick move, their other hand covered my mouth just before I could think or utter a cry. The surroundings blurred as I was reeled out of the hall, and behind a large pillar. Frantically, I tried to pull away, but they refused to let go. Oh my god! Who?! What?! Why?! I muffled out a cry as I quit struggling, trying to look over my shoulder to see who or what was holding me captive, their grip on me softened.

  Asriel?!

My body melted from the sudden relief. He quickly put his finger over his lips just to cut me off from what I was about to say or ask. With panic seeping throughout my body, I quickly took a peek at Colleen and Delilah in case they realized that I was gone. And to my surprise, Frisk was talking to them; they seem to be having an interesting conversation. I guess that would keep them busy for a little while.

Once they disappeared out of eyesight, Asriel pulls his hand away from my mouth just to allow me to speak again. "Your Majesty? What in the world--"

"Ah, ah, ah, Zefie." He uses his finger to cut me off. "Did you really forget about what I told you to call me if we're not around people?"

I gaped at him, feeling shocked as my cheeks flushed red. So, he was not joking after all. My heart began to beat in a fast pace, hearing it thump loudly enough for the both of us to hear.

"Sorry, sorry! A-Asriel, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in there, where everyone is waiting at the moment?"

"Well I had to see you first before we eat. I'm here to thank you for keeping our secret untold."

Suddenly, I remembered that I ended telling my maids about it.

"Uh, yeah about that, I uh . . . Well .  . . I ended up telling my maids."

"You told your maids?" He raised his eyebrows at me, not looking angry at all. "That's actually fine, I kind of knew you would end up telling them."

"What? How?" It was my turn to raise my eyebrows at him.

Asriel chuckled softly at my expression. "After you left with Sans, I went back up to my room to check your name on the list and the maids you are assigned with. And to my surprise, you got lucky. Barbara and Lesley are good, loyal people. And good at keeping secrets."

"Yes, yes they are," I nodded in agreement. "So, what else did you want to say to me? I don't want to sound rude or anything, but I'm feeling super hungry."

My stomach growled louder than before, making me groan in pain.

His eyes widened and chuckled. "Ah, so it really was your stomach that growled with anticipation! I apologize, I'll make this quick, it's actually something very important . . ."

"Oh, what is it?"

"I'm uh . . . W-well I uh . . ." He stuttered nervously, beads of sweat suddenly forming over his fur if possible as he was trying so hard to say it. "I-I am asking you if you could go on a date after we eat breakfast."

After he mentioned the word 'date' my entire face glowed in a rather reddish-pink color. "W-wait, If it's because I used your formal name, I didn't mean to, I was just--"

"No, no, no. That's not why at all." He chuckled softly, giving me a warm smile. "I just want us to talk more, and I honestly couldn't stop thinking about last night. There's something about you that just makes me eager to find out what makes you laugh, or the things that makes you nerd out."

I gasped, putting my hand over my mouth. I didn't think he would keep that in his mind all night. Laugh? Nerd out? He must be serious.

Just as I was about to accept it, I suddenly remembered that Colleen dressed at her best, hoping that Asriel will take her out on a date. I felt so guilty . . . She helped me in so many ways. I can't go on a date with him, knowing that Colleen will feel a little bad that she dressed up for nothing.

"So, w-what do you say Zefie? Do you accept?" Asriel spoke again, waiting for my answer patiently.

"Ah, Asriel. I would love to go on a date with you, but . . . I'm afraid I'll have to decline." I looked down, rubbing my arm softly.

"W-What? Why? Was it because I did something wrong?" His voice was filled with panic when he asked.

"No, no! Not at all, it's not it at all." I put my hands over his reassuringly. "It's just . . . Well . . . You see, I have this friend, and she is absolutely funny and very optimistic. She made me feel happy in so many ways, that words can't describe how grateful I am to meet someone like her. And because she told me how confident she felt, she thought that maybe you will notice her and maybe ask her out on a date. Other than that, I'm not saying no on purpose, I just don't want to be the friend that makes them lose their hopes."

Asriel gasps, surprised by my reason for declining his offer. I watched as his green eyes twinkled with admiration, watching as a smile formed on his face.

"Once again, you managed to give me a reason to admire you Zefie. Alright then, I can do that. I'll ask your friend on a date for your sake. What is her name?"

"It's Colleen Darwin, she's a squirrel monster wearing an orange colored gown. Her hair color is light cyan." I answered, remembering her by memory.

"Ah, Colleen." Asriel nods, remembering her right away. "Yeah, you're absolutely right about her. She is very optimistic and positive. She reminds me of Papyrus."

I responded by beaming with joy, giving his hands a tight squeeze. "Thank you so much Asriel, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

"Your welcom. And thank you for finally calling me by my real name."

"You wish, Your Majesty." I stuck my tongue out at him teasingly, starting to walk away until I felt his hand gripped my wrist again and pulled me back to face him.

"How very clever of you, Zefie. Even if I'll go on a date with Colleen, that still doesn't mean that you're off the hook." He says, staring at me intently.

"W-what do you mean?" My heart was pounding fast.

Asriel leans his face towards my mine until his snout nearly touched my nose. "What I mean to say is, that I'm still going to ask you on a date once I finish mine with Colleen first."

He chuckled darkly, his hot breath sending me intense chills throughout my body. Did I not mention how dangerously close his lips are to mine? I didn't think he had it in him. I can only gape at him, feeling my cheeks flush red again.

"I-It's a date!" I gasped, surprised at my own outburst.

"Good, I'll hold you to it. Other than that, shall we head for breakfast?" He beckons the door that led to the dining room.

"We shall," I walked up ahead first, but stopped. "By the way, why did you have Frisk go and talk to my friends?"

Asriel can only smirk at me before he spoke. "You are not the only person who told someone about our secret. And because Frisk is my best friend, I ended up telling her about our nightly event. So, she decided to do me a favor by distracting your friends while I pulled you away just to ask you on a date. And because that plan somewhat failed, well . . . Y-you get the idea."

"R-right, but like I said, I didn't mean to. And besides, you should still be happy, you still succeeded by asking me out on a date either way." I can only smile at him, watching his cheeks flushed red over his thick white fur as he scratched the back of his head.

"That's true. Well played, Zefie. Now let's go and eat, I'm feeling very famished after smelling that delicious scent."

I giggled softly at him before we walked together towards the dining room.

As we entered, I suddenly felt a lot of the girls looked up and stared at us. Some looked with curiosity on what could be the reason why I walked in with Asriel. Others, like Malachite and Fiona, sent cold stares. I think Asriel caught on to it, before he began to speak.

"Ah. Please forgive me for being late, ladies. You all can go ahead and start eating. However, I do not appreciate the stares some of you are giving to Miss Alban. And that should stop now." He says, his voice sounding stern.

Some of the girls quickly looked down, feeling embarrassed for their rash behavior towards me. In the corner of my eye, I saw Malachite clearing her throat nervously and Fiona blushing, looking flustered. I lowered my head down to avoid any awkward glances as I hurried over to where Delilah and Colleen sat. I sat between them, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

He didn't have to do that for me, I thought to myself. Why does he always have protect me? I can handle myself.

"Gosh, you okay?" Colleen asks, her voice filled with concern.

"Just a little shaken up, that's all. Maybe I'm just hungry." I said, and that was the truth.

"If it's because of you being gone for five minutes, then don't feel bad. Maybe he stopped you for something important."

Actually, he did, I wanted to say.

Instead, I decided to keep quiet about it and let Asriel be the one to surprise for her. Today is going to turn out okay, I just have to make the best of it. I wonder where Asriel will plan on taking Colleen on their first date. I glanced over at Asriel as he took his seat between Asgore and Frisk.

As I relaxed, I decided to use this time to look around. The dining room is huge. I can't believe a table this long even existed! It had to be at least fifty feet long. Banners hung among the walls in the colors of gold and purple, with the delta rune crest imprinted in the middle. Very classy, I thought to myself.

I turn my attention over at today's breakfast. Oh! There are different kinds of dishes to choose from. I go ahead and take a few sausages and some scrambled eggs over to my plate and began to dig in.

Holy cow! They absolutely taste delicious! Since I'm around people, I ate in a well-mannered way just to look polite. It was a good thing that I had Lesley not do my lips, I would have tasted lipstick over my food.

"So, hey, not to sound too nosy, but where did you disappear to?" Delilah whispered softly enough for only the two of us to hear. "For a second you were behind us, and the next thing we knew, the princess somehow magically appears and decided to have a small chat about how our day was going."

I chuckled softly. I'm surprised that she didn't even see or hear any of what just happened.

"I was pulled to the side because Prince Asriel wanted to talk with me about something. Other than that, Princess Frisk only came by just to distract you guys from questioning my sudden disappearance."

"Huh . . . That makes sense, so what'd he say?"

"He wanted to take me out on a date, but I declined."

Delilah gaped at me as if I just grew another head. "Are you crazy? Why would you do that?"

I can only smile at her, shrugging my shoulders. "You'll understand why."

And just like that, Delilah decided to not press on, continuing to eat her pancakes.

Over the past fifteen minutes, we continued to eat and chat. A few monster girls that sat across from me began to ask questions about Nanny. Things like her personality, her human form, and what she's doing as of now. Of course I gladly answered by how amazing she is, though I sadly told them that I've never seen Nanny use her magic before. They told me that Selkies have the power to cure certain illnesses and heal monsters and humans. I was intrigued by how much they know about Nanny's kind, I'll have to look into the royal library to read about them. Or perhaps I should talk to Asgore or Toriel about Nanny's past.

Surprisingly, I ended up meeting a new friend Delilah introduced me to.

Her name is Selene Marcos of Elridge. That's the town Nanny and I used to live, and where we first found Bryn. She's actually a nice girl, but there are times when she would show signs of being a little too shy to even look at people in the eye when she speaks. Now I'm starting to understand why I shouldn't be timid all the time. Looks like I'll have to get lessons from Papyrus on how to be confident about myself.

Just then, Asgore announces that after we finish our meals, we can go ahead and explore around the palace. However, he kindly reminds us that if we plan on leaving outside the palace, we must have a guard to chaperone us. Well, it is a big palace after all. The only place I plan on going is the greenhouse. Something about that place just makes me want to explore it.

One by one, the girls leave the dining room to go ahead and explore the palace. However, there will be guards on duty to keep us away from going to certain places that only the royal family can go to. I sighed in relief once Malachite and Fiona left to go wherever they pleased. King Asgore and Queen Toriel left as well, with Frisk following behind them.

I glanced over at Asriel, seeing him look a bit nervous. Once his gaze met mine, I beckoned to Colleen with a smile on my face that he should ask her now. He responds by nodding, walking towards our direction.

"Hello, ladies," Asriel greets us with a soft smile.

"Hello, Your Majesty," Delilah, Colleen, and I responded in unison.

"I hope none of you don't mind if I borrow Miss Colleen's time, do you?"

I smiled to myself as I 'pretended' to look surprised. "Oh, no; not at all. You two look like you need some time alone, come on Delilah."

I quickly grabbed her by the arm before she protests, leaving Colleen behind with Asriel. I didn't miss the way Colleen's face turned red, overwhelmed with what's happening to her. I quickly placed my hand over Delilah's lips before she really loses it.

"See you later, Colleen!" I called over my shoulder.

Just as we exit the dining hall, Delilah quickly pulls her arm away and began to speak.

"What was that all about? Why'd you pull me away?"

"You remember when you asked me why I rejected Prince Asriel's offer to date him?" I smirked at her.

"Yes? But what does that have to do with us leaving right away--"

Her words suddenly trails off, starting to thinking through as if she's trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "You . . . told him to take Colleen instead, didn't you?"

"Mhm," I nodded once.

"And you remembered when she was hoping that the way she dressed today will get him to notice her."

"Mhm~."

She became speechless for a moment before she finally spoke again. "Wow, Zefie . . . Thank you, you really made her day. I don't think I've met anyone that would decline the prince's offer just to have your friend take it."

"Colleen deserves a chance like this Delilah, it'll make my day just to see her smile."

"Me too,"

We continued to walk down the corridor, admiring the details of the palace until Delilah decided to go back up the second floor for a spa day. She did offer for me to come with her, but I told her that I was going to go check out the greenhouse. I walked with her to the elevator and waved her goodbye as the doors closed between us.  

If I remember correctly, the greenhouse should be over at the east side of the palace. From the elevator, I go ahead and went straight towards an empty hallway, the large columns lining the room. Up ahead, I can see huge double doors shaped in an arch. It looks beautiful because it's made out of different colored glass, framed in pure gold that still glimmered as if it never aged. The more I get closer, the more I can see the exquisite details of the doors. From the sides, gold leaves and silver vines entwined around the frames of the doors to outline them, looking as if they were growing out from the polished marble ground.

The sunlight beamed through the door, making my dress glow in different colors from the stained glass. How beautiful, I thought to myself. It's no wonder I adore the gardens so much. Over to my left, there was a metal sign that reads out: 'Please take off your foot wear before you enter the garden, thank you.'

I raised my eyebrow at it. What a strange rule, maybe Asgore has his reasons. So, I did as the sign asked, taking off my heels and left it on the side before I turned the silver doorknob, swinging the door open with the bright lights enveloping me.

[imaginecredence]

“I’ll see you again.” (part 52)

Summary: A Credence Barebone imagine (Credence x Reader) Thanksgiving Special

Note: This is the 52nd part to this imagine so make sure you check out the others! I hope you like and reblog it. There also will most likely be a grammar mistake so bare with me. Anyway… I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry this took so freaking long! Love you guys!!

Date published: December 15, 2017

Warnings: None?

Year: November- 1927

Part: fifty-two of ?

MASTERLIST

PLAYLIST 
_____________________

You slowly slipped out of the giant mountain of blankets you had slept so peacefully in the night before. You were careful not to wake up Credence.

After you had gotten out, you stood there and smiled at his innocent sleeping face.

You quietly closed the laundry room door as you left, and made your way through the living room that your two brothers were sleeping in.

Then you shuffled through the kitchen, with your bare feet tiptoeing across the cold floor. You then proceeded to make some coffee, and grabbed your book that was laying on the side table, next to your chair.

Once the coffee was done brewing, you poured yourself a cup. You like it just as it is, black and bitter. Credence never understood that. He always pretends to make a big deal about it, not understanding how you could enjoy ‘a cup of sadness’ as he called it.

After you quickly put on your coat, you went out onto the front deck, and sat on the porch swing. Holding the book up to your face, you picked up where you left off, and sipped on your hot coffee.

You took a second to look around. The sun was barely coming up, so the whole world looked almost blue. And frost covered the grass all across the neighborhood. You could see your frozen breath in front of you, as you enjoyed these few moments alone.

The sound of the screen door opening, put you back in reality. You looked over to see Jack walking over to sit next to you.

“Hey,” he said, his breath looking like smoke.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“It’s chilly,” he rubbed his hands together, looking around at the houses.

“Yeah,” you replied, “But I like it that way.”

A few moments of silence passed as you looked out into the cool, blue morning.

“Do you really feel that way about Credence?” you asked. The question had played a million times in your head before you could actually bring yourself to say it.

You looked over at him, after the question had been out into the open for a few seconds.

“I don’t know, Y/N.” he sounded kind of sad, or disappointed.

“Why can’t I be happy, Jack? Don’t I deserve that?” you said bluntly.

“Of course you do.” he quickly replied.

“Then why?” You questioned.

“You’re my sister.”

“Okay, that is not a good enough reason.” You teased, playfully hitting his arm.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Is he still— you know... the way he is?” He asked.

“Magical?”

He nodded.

“Of course he is!” you laughed.

“Has he hurt you again?”

“No—“ quickly defended. “No. Of course not.” You said. “And, Jack, you know that wasn’t on purpose? It’s hard for him to control it, it was an accident.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of....That he can’t control it”

“He hasn’t had an accident in months.” You defend him. “I understand why you’re scared, but I’m not, I trust him. And you trust me, so you should accept him.”

He nodded, looking over at you with a sweet smile, but you could see in his eyes that he was still a little nervous.

You smiled back at him, leaning into his shoulder.

After the sun had come up, and you had caught up a bit with Jack, you went inside. Before you went in, you had started to hear that people were up.

When you came in from the chilly weather, the house felt so warm, and smelled so good because your mother had started making breakfast for everyone.

“Mom, you didn’t have to do that.” You assured.

“I wanted to.” She grinned at you.

You looked over and saw Credence, sitting in the living room, talking with Walter.

He looked over, saw you, and gave you the a huge no-teeth smile.

You lifted your hand and waved over at him, then went back to talking to your mother. He looked adorable, his hair all messy and him in his blue and white striped pajamas.

After you all had eaten breakfast, and spent most of the morning, relaxing around the house with your family, you and your mother got started on making the Thanksgiving dinner.

It felt so nice to be with everyone again. And as you made dinner, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you played music on your record player and looked around the room at the people you love.

“Is there anything I can do?” You heard Credence say behind you.

You turned around, smiling and said, “I think we’re okay.”

Credence came up behind you, hugged your waist and kissed your cheek.

“What are you making?” He asked.

“Apple pie.” You giggled at his action.

“She makes it every year!” Your mother chimed in.

“Yeah, it’s the best,” Jack walked in.

“I can’t wait to try it.” Credence smiled, burying his face into your neck, making you laugh harder.

Everyone was around the living room as they waited for dinner to be ready. They were talking, playing card games, and having fun.

Jack and Walter were trying really hard to teach Credence how to play a game, but he just couldn’t get it.

You were watching from the kitchen, and kept grinning to yourself at the confusion on his face.

He finally gave up and decided to just sit and watch.

While he did, he discreetly eyed Aunt Florence who was sitting at the other end of the couch, them two being the only ones not playing the game.

He kept thinking about what you had told him about her. How she had lost her husband; how he couldn’t even imagine losing you.

“Aunt Florence?” Credence said, so bravely. She was a bit shocked at this, her head whipping to look at him.

“I... Y/N told me about your husband.” He continued. “I-I’m very sorry.”

“Oh- thank you, Credence.” She nodded, almost like she was acknowledging him for the first time.

He gave a small smile, and looked back at the game going on.

Thanksgiving dinner was finally ready, and everyone gathered around.

You had set the table beautifully, with candles, flowers, and the elegant plates that your grandmother had given you when you moved to New York.

As you all ate dinner, and told old stories, like you did every year, you looked around at the people you love. You felt that your heart was so full it could explode.

Your eyes stopped at Credence. He looked so carefree and happy, as he laughed at a story your Dad was telling about how you and Jack had gotten in trouble one time for ditching school to play in the ocean again.

You quickly wiped away the tears that had just began to fall down your cheeks.

“Okay,” Your Mother began. “Let’s do our tradition!”

“What’s the tradition?” Credence questioned.

“We go around and tell everyone what we’re thankful for.” You answered.

“Oh.” He smiled.

“I’ll go first.” Your Mother volunteered. “Of course, I’m thankful for all of you.” She smiled. “But... I’m especially thankful for my new son.” She placed her hand on top of Credence’s that was resting on the table. He looked up, and smiled sweetly at her.

“And I’m so sorry that I doubted the decision you two have made. I’m truly so happy for you both.”

You were now crying like a baby. It was everything you could have ever wanted to have your family approve of Credence and make him feel wanted.

“Mom.” You bawled, getting up to hug her.

“I’m so happy.” You cried into her shoulder.

While you continued to hug, Credence felt immensely uncomfortable, looking over at Jack sitting next to him. Jack chuckled, patting him on the back.

“These two together... it gets pretty emotional.” He laughed.

Credence smiled, looking back up at the sobbing scene.

Then it was your turn to speak, and you of course bragged on Credence. You could see him blushing from across the table.

When it was Credence’s turn, he shyly said how much he appreciated your kindness and endless love for him. And once again, you teared up.

“You know,” you said, after everyone had spoken. “It’s almost been a year since we first met, Credence.” You smiled at him.

“Oh, yeah that’s right.” He beamed.

“How did this year go so quickly?” You remembered all of the different things that had happened since then. How had it been year? It felt like you just met, but it was also that weird feeling where it feels like it was forever ago.

Later that night, everyone was in bed, and you and Credence were sitting on your mound of blankets, just talking.

It was dark, but not dark enough to where you couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“How has it been a year?” You sighed.

“I don’t know.” He replied.

“It’s crazy how much can change in year.” You said.

“If someone would have told me that all of this would happen; that I would get away, and be happy... be with you, I would have said they were insane.” He gazed off in the distance.

You smiled at him, taking his hands in yours. “I wouldn’t have believed them either. It’s all so perfect.”

He looked back at you smiling, and stared deeply into your eyes. It felt like they had swallowed you whole, and before you knew it, Credence’s lips were crushing into yours.

The silence of the small room felt like it was all you could ever need in the whole world. Credence’s hand gently touched your cheek, and that feeling took you even farther into the state of contentment.

Then he pulled away and looked back into your eyes.

“You’re the best person I know.” He said, his voice sounding so innocent, like he was a little boy with a crush.

You laughed like you were amused, but didn’t agree.

“You’re the best person... period.” You smiled.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” He whispered, and you both laughed, trying to be quiet so not to wake up everyone.

To be continued....

PART FIFTY-THREE

[svynakee]

Although Digger and Bittersweet are very much in love, their relationship went through its ups and downs. Luckily, they stuck through it. #LinksonaFic

A music box usually isn’t very heavy, but this particular one weighed heavily on Digger for a while. 

Bittersweet tapped him on the shoulder one day, as Digger finished cleaning the drawers they kept their surplus clothing in. Digger turned, smiling. He didn’t smile when he saw what Bittersweet held in his hands.

“Oh, that? Just put it back where ya found it,” he told the man. The drawers were already free of any dust, but Digger kept wiping the wood, the rag leaving damp circles that quickly faded to nothingness.

Bittersweet tapped his shoulder again. He placed the music box on a windowsill and said, “I found it behind the books and things you’ve gotten from the villagers. You couldn’t even see it on the shelf.”

“Put it back where ya found it,” Digger repeated. “Exactly as you found it. Hey, it’s getting late, maybe ya won’t mind seeing what’s fer sale at the market?”

Digger kept idly dragging the rag across the drawers until he heard the front door close. Then he threw himself into frenzied cleaning, moping and dusting and scrubbing until his arms ached. Yet even with the ruckus, he still heard the song.

“When did you buy it?” Sweets asked. “We’ve barely been back.”

He’d gestured towards the corner of the shelf that Digger kept cluttered. Digger smiled. “What do you mean?”

“The pretty box. With the golden stick and the emeralds.”

Digger shrugged. “Long ago.”

Sweets frowned. “What does it do?”

“Nothing,” Digger answered. “It’s completely useless.”

Sweets had always had a knack for knowing when he lied. He doesn’t comment.

Although, Digger thinks, he hadn’t lied at all.

The glow of the radiant armour made it impossible to sneak around at night. The bokoblins had seen them – or rather, seen Digger – from afar and charged, the five of them shrieking as they waved their weapons overhead. It hadn’t been a fair fight.

After all, they hadn’t realised that there were two chosen heroes running around.

Digger swirled the last of the hearty elixir around in its bottle. “Ya sure ya don’t need any more, Peaches?”

The newcomer shook his head empathetically, his bangs swaying with the movement. Digger had called him Peaches for his bubbliness, for the way he’d bounced from monster to monster so confidently, a smile on his face. Considering the situation, his cheerfulness was borderline unnatural.

Or perhaps that was because Digger missed another; one who wore the same face but never spoke a word, who fought with caution and a dancer’s grace, whose smile was soft and small and sweet.

Digger shrugged and downed the last of the elixir. He made a face at the bitter taste of it on his tongue. Still, it restored his strength, allowing him to push himself to his feet and stretch. “Not much further now, Peaches. Monsters in this world are freaky strong, so it’s best we don’t linger.”

His companion nodded. “But… you know… with the clothes you’re wearing…”

Digger winced. It was true. “Right. Give me a moment, will ya? See to t’horses. There’s an apple tree somewhere back there…”

‘Peaches’ nodded and headed towards the copse of trees they’d passed earlier. Digger took his Sheikah Slate from his belt and flicked through the options to find a more appropriate outfit for night travel.

But he was too hasty and found himself staring at the last menu of the Slate. And he found his eyes drawn to the last slot, to that little gold-and-white box sitting so innocently on the screen.

‘Peaches’ returned to find Digger in an outfit of red and blue and gold, white gloves on his hands and white boots on his feet. It’s still a flashy outfit. Despite the gashes and the missing patch in the cap. He doesn’t comment on it.

They mounted the horses that the bokoblins had so kindly brought to them and set off underneath the light of the red moon. The voice that Digger had come to expect during these nights was, as always, silent. Instead, he heard the song.

The last note faded away like mist in the morning. Sweets let out a quiet sigh. Digger smiled. “Beautiful, ain’t it? Do ya know the song?”

Sweets shook his head. Digger wondered if he’d never heard it, if maybe it hadn’t existed in ‘his’ Hyrule. Digger closed his eyes and leaned back against the trunk of the palm. Here, the air smelled of the ocean. In the evening it smelled of fish and spice, in the day of baked sand as the sun glared down bright and warm. But in the still hours of dawn when only the slightest suggestion of light peered out from behind the grey horizon the air was fresh and clean. To Digger, it smelled of peace. Perhaps that was a maudlin thought, but he breathed it in, the morning air of sea and dew and the scent of Sweets beside him.

And he began to sing.

By the third verse, Sweets’ hand reached out to his. He laced his fingers against Digger’s. His touch was so very warm.

By the fifth he’d shuffled close, so he could rest his head on Digger’s shoulder. His hair brushed against Digger’s face, tickling his scar on his cheek.

By the final verse he was running the fingers of his other hand through Digger’s hair, just the way he knew Digger liked it. When Digger opened his eyes he saw exactly what he’d expected.

“There’s no need for tears, Sweets,” he murmured, brushing them away with a callused thumb. “I ain’t that pretty a songbird.”

“Did she give it to you?” Sweets asked. The pain in his eyes hurt. The shadow of acceptance there was agony.

Digger shook his head. “Wrong way around. Do ya know what the song’s about?”

“Love.”

“There’s many kinds of love.” Dawn was well and truly on its way now. The sky blushed pink over the sea, as if the sun was a lover’s touch. Digger pulled Sweets close and his husband tucked his head beneath Digger’s chin, bending is head so that he could listen to Digger’s heartbeat. Watching the dawn, Digger explained, “It tells of a woman ransoming her love for impossible tasks. A shirt without seams, land atop the waves, reaping a harvest with leather… it’s a very pretty way of saying ‘no’, I suppose. Just enough hope to keep a man trying.”

Sweets squeezed his hand.  

Digger idly turned the music box’s handle. “I found it on top of my Sheikah Slate. I thought the rest of ya did too, thought ya just didn’t want t’mention it. Not sure when I realised I was the only one. I didn’t remember why it was important when I first saw it. But I felt it. I remember looking at it and feeling the first… first real emotion since waking up. I was confused and scared and alone ‘cept for her voice. But when I saw this, that was when I first… got a glimpse of who I was.”

His husband lifted his head then, watching Digger warily. “What do you mean?”

Digger laughed. “The moment I picked it up I felt so sad. Just angry and disappointed, and I knew it wasn’t because of the Calamity. When I heard the song the words came back to me. I was crying before I even found my clothes. And I didn’t know why.”

“Did you ever find out?”

“Yeah. In the Coliseum ruins, right after I killed the lynel at the bottom. That moment when I stood there, its blood still on my sword, it came back to me. The crowds, cheering. The banners. And her. She was…” Digger couldn’t stop the smile on his face, at the memory of a memory. “…radiant.”

Sweets recoiled then, but Digger reached out to grab his wrist. He kept his grip gentle, rubbing soothing circles over the sensitive skin there. The man’s face is softer than Digger’s own and unmarred, his skin paler. And his eyes were softer too. There was so much warmth, so much kindness in that gaze. So much patience.

He gives and gives. Everything I ask for. Even the things I haven’t. That brings a smile to Digger’s lips. And then suddenly he can’t look at Sweets anymore; here in the light of the rising sun with the sea breeze ruffling his hair, his cheeks rosy from the morning chill, his beauty is dazzling. It brings tears to Digger’s eyes.

Soft hands wipe away his tears. It’s Digger’s turn to lean into his touch, to guide his hands around him so that Digger can murmur his next words against his beloved’s chest, right above his heartbeat. “Before the Calamity, the kingdom was magnificent. The Hylians, they… we had so much. Feasts and festivals and temples and cities. Gardens full of fountains and so many flowers, every single flower in Hyrule. There’s dishes I don’t even know the name of any more, I just remember the smells and the colours and the taste. And there were the knights. The tourneys, the jousts. Archery contests. Horseback races. Duels and melees and even fights against monsters captured from the wild.”

Digger couldn’t stop the sob that wracked his body, the way his voice broke as he continued, “The cheering. I remember the cheering. The way people looked at me and saw… hope. Honour. A hero. That memory… if I’d known what it would do to me I’d have never gone there.”

Sweets pulled away the tie that bound his messy hair together. Silently, he begins to work, brushing out the strands, separating them into workable sections.

“I don’t remember all of it. But I know why I was there. I… I think I proposed to her the moment I came of age, the day I was made a true knight. It was a stupid thing to do. I’m pretty sure we’re all older than her, in every world.”

Sweets started on the first braid. He worked with a steady rhythm, slender fingers guiding the strands in their dance, over and under and around.

“And she told me that she’d accept when I’d become the champion of every important tourney and festival of the year, she’d accept.”

There was nothing to hold the braid in place with, so when he was done, Sweets simply let it fall back against Digger’s face. It started to unwind almost immediately, but by the time it’d twisted apart he was halfway done with the next one.

“I don’t think she expected me to get anywhere close. And I didn’t, for a few years. Maybe she’d thought I’d give up. Guess she didn’t know me very well, eh?”

The braids didn’t unwind completely. They held together at the top, so that the three strands of hair remained curled loosely against each other. Undone, but not entirely, still carrying the suggestion of what had been.

“But then one year I won them all. Travelled all over Hyrule, showed up wherever contests of skill and strength took place. The Coliseum. The last challenge of the year, a major celebration. The royal family was there. The entire time she watched me. That was all I remember caring about – that she was watching. Now though…. I wonder what she was thinking. I wish I’d wondered back then. I wish I’d asked her.”

The music box, ornate gold against white porcelain and studded with emeralds, weighs against his palm. It’s cold against his skin, having drunk in the chill of the morning. It leeches the warmth from his skin, sharp corners digging into his flesh.

“I didn’t, though. And I’d had this made, to give to her after I won. This song. I wonder why I chose it.” Digger shifted so he could look up at Sweets, who paused in his work. “Did you know, I had to fight my own father? I don’t even remember his face, but I remember I had to fight him. The feeling of it. That felt…”

The silence grew deeper as the day grew lighter, until eventually Sweets gives his bare shoulders a squeeze.

“Yeah. I guess afterwards I won. I gave the music box to her. And she told me she couldn’t, couldn’t let love distract her, not when she still didn’t know how to stop Ganon. Afterwards, she’d said. And that’s all I remember. Afterwards.”

Digger looked at the trinket in his hand and wondered, then, who’d been the one to truly ask for the impossible.

Sweets tapped his shoulder. The sun had cleared the horizon then, its light bringing out the deep, true gold of his hair, the smoothness of his shoulders, the brilliant blue of his eyes. Smiling, Sweets told him:

“Digger, you have a beautiful singing voice.”

And Digger laughed.

[canadas-googlesearchhistory]

YJS- I will not be silenced- by Grace o(aka nightmaretyrantvantas)

YJS- I will not be silenced

By Grace O.

chapter 1

  ‘ I don’t want to go back…’ Was my only thought as I aimlessly walked the dirty streets of my little, backwater town, letting the night’s harsh rainstorm drench me and chill me to the bone. I was sick of this town, sick of the people, sick of the void left by my only friend moving to Happy Harbor. I kept walking the through town, past all the shops closed early from the storm and the lit up and darkened windows of small townhouses and regular houses. the streetlights couldn’t even shine on me with how strong the rain was, leaving me to walk and brood in darkness. I eventually came the big park near the edge of stony road, the road that led to the highway, walking up to the metal swingset and sitting down, glaring up at the storm.

“ Is this some sort of punishment? Well?! Or do you up there, whoever you are, just seriously fucking hate me?!?” I shouted up to the sky, not even expecting a real answer.

I got one in the form of a thunder crash and the rain pouring stronger, if that was even possible.

“ WELL THANKS FOR THAT FUCKING CLARIFICATION UNIVERSE!!!” I panted slightly, shivering from the cold. I began to swing and kick the mud puddle forming under the swing I was on, listening to the splash sound trying to penetrate the rain. Thunder clapped loudly above me again, almost as if laughing at me. I wouldnt blame it if I was honestly. I sat there for a long time staring off into the rain, swinging back and forth slightly and ignoring the cold tightly gripping my body like a vicegrip. I had so many memories in this park and now seeing it as empty and lonely as I was put a bad taste in my mouth. Eventually I got off the swing and started the long trek home, dreading every step closer I came to that house. ‘I don’t want to go back I don’t want to go back I don’t want to go back Dave save me come back and take me with you I don’t want to go back….’  

It felt like hours passed by the time I came to my doorstep, drenched to the bone and freezing and the alive feeling of the cold rain draining fast as I unlocked the door as quietly as I could. There was a light on in the kitchen but if I was quiet enough I could make it into the entry hall and up the stairs to my room without whoever was up noticing. I slipped inside and immediately took off my ratty old sneakers so they wouldn’t squeak and silently shut and relocked the door, quickly making my way up the stairs while trying to drip as little as possible. I scurried past my two sisters’ rooms and past my parents bedroom and down to the very end of the hall and into my room, holding my breath even after I shut the door. I stayed there for a few long moments, listening for any movement that signalled I was caught, but when I heard none I breathed out a sigh of relief and looked at my alarm clock

3:49 A.M.

I blinked in surprise then bit the inside of my cheek to keep down the bitter laugh burning in my throat. I’d left my phone, right next to my clock, and the only message alert on it was from before I left, from Dave saying goodnight because we had a couple hours time difference and he had to get up early tomorrow. No new messages. None from my parents asking where I was at all.

My mom was probably the one in the kitchen, getting drunk before going to bed.

I didn’t want to come back. I want to leave this disgusting place.

It took my at least an hour to get dried enough that I wouldn’t get sick and to get rid of the blessed chill of the cold, though some of it lingered as if to comfort me. ‘ a comfort indeed…’ I thought sadly, turning off my alarm before it could go off and simply began brushing my damp hair out of my face and into a semi-decent messy little ponytail, or at least as much of a ponytail as my shoulder length hair could manage. I dried off a bit more and let my hair down again, letting my bangs fall into my face, needing some kind of cover over the bags under my eyes. Then I got dressed in a simple black and red t-shirt of Dave’s he loaned me and “forgot” to take back. I buried my nose into it for a moment, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath. ‘ It still has his scent….’

My body relaxed at the soothing familiar scent of blade polish, peach body wash, hot summer breezes, greasy foods, and men’s supposedly unscented deodorant, and Snuggy’s linen fabric softener that surrounded me as I slipped on the oversized t-shirt over my own black camisole undershirt. Then I slipped on my thread bare black jeans with holes in them and tied a makeshift belt out of a fabric scarf. I slipped on a fresh dry pair of ankle socks and pulled on my GoodWill/thrift shop discounted bargain bin brown rainboots, wrapping a towel around my sneakers and shoving them into my backpack. Then I grabbed all my school work, blank music sheets, and sketchbook and art pencils and shoved those more carefully into my backpack, making sure they were covered by my only raincoat to keep them from getting wet. Finally I pulled on my all grey hoodie and zipped it up, slipping my phone and MP3 player into the pocket and slung on my backpack, leaving my room and heading downstairs to hell.

When I got there my father was already awake, sitting at the table with a cigarette in his mouth and the newspaper in his hand, reading with his coffee.

“ Linnet.” I bowed my head and quietly prepared breakfast.

“ Good morning sir, I hope your sleep was plentiful.” He grunted in response, meaning I’d said the right thing.

Seems he was in a good mood this morning. Let’s hope it stayed that way….

Once I finished preparing breakfast and set it out for the rest of the family, today was Wednesday so it was pancakes, bacon, and breakfast sausages with toast and apple juice. I prepared my sister’s lunches and set them out while leaving out the drinks to be put in, so mother drunkest could put the drinks in when my sisters finish breakfast and fake having made their entire lunches herself and drive them to school. When my father wasn’t looking I quickly and quietly scrounged out a handful of dimes and quarters and slipped them into my hoodie pocket, making sure I wrapped them in a napkin so they wouldn’t make noise and alert my father. I left plenty for laundry though, to avoid suspicion. Once he looked back at me I was cleaning all the dishes and pans I used to cook, glancing at the clock to time my escape right. Once I finished I picked up my things and bowed my head again.

“ I’m going to school now sir, I hope you enjoy breakfast and that you have another great and productive day at work.” I said softly and robotically, my gaze on his feet. I heard the shuffle of the newspaper as he folded it up and braced myself for anything really.

“ Did you take a shower this morning? I don’t recall hearing the water running and the hot water was working with no delay.” He was almost subtly baiting me to fuck up, but for once I was prepared.

But goddammit I shouldve dried my hair more, of COURSE he noticed it.

“ Yes I did take a short shower this morning sir, but I didn’t want to disturb your well deserved rest so I took a very short, quiet, cold shower and made sure to not use any hot water so there would be plenty for you, mother, Margret, and Mariah.” I heard him grunt again, a sign of begrudging acceptance of my answer. I turned to leave and was almost out of the kitchen when he spoke up again.

“ Linnet, why don’t you grab a plate and join us for a proper family breakfast? You’re always so…studiously and eagerly hurrying off every morning to school to continue your education, a very respectable and admirable but rare sight in this youth, but it leaves us with an incomplete morning gathering each day. Please, come sit.” I stiffened but obediently nodded and made myself a plate and sat down at my seat, the only one on the left side of the table. Then I set my backpack between my feet and waited in silence beside my father, listening to the sounds of Mother and my sister’s getting up. I heard one of them slam the bathroom door shut after loudly shuffling out of their room, probably Margret if I had to guess. She had a heavier footed step for such a skinny twig. I didn’t dare touch anything on the plate until the rest of the family came down.

“ Would you like toast or a muffin Linnet?” Father asked as he finished folding his newspaper. I silently gulped and kept my head down.

“ I don’t want to trouble you…so I don’t need any…this is already so generously plenty.” I replied meekly, my eyes on my lap and my clenched fists. ‘ Oh just let this hell end already so I can get my couple minutes of escape at school…’ He let out a “hn.” at my response but didn’t say anything else to me, which meant I just barely got by with my answer. After a few moments of silence my mother half sauntered half stumbled into the kitchen, hungover.

“ Good morning darli–Linnet….you’re supposed to have already left for school! Who told you you could dare–” My father cleared his throat with a almost disapproving growl, probably at my mother’s lack of subtlety.

“ Dear, I told Linnet to stay and eat breakfast with us, so we could eat together this morning like a proper family.” She immediately straightened and pulled herself together, sober enough not to argue with her husband.

“ Oh of course honey! I’m so sorry for yelling like that.” She went over to him and kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder affectionately. Then she got herself some coffee and sat down at her seat on the other end of the table, opposite of him. There was another, more suffocating silence before my sisters came into the kitchen, chattering like noisy pigeons to each other. They both stopped short when they saw me though, matching disgusted looks on their painted faces as they began spouting insults and disbelief at Father.

“ Silence!”

A very still quiet settled over us all, such a picture perfect family we were….

Father’s glare was piercing and cold as he stared down his preferred daughters.

“ Quiet both of you. This morning we are having a PLEASANT breakfast together, and you will behave as so.” They meekly replied that they understood and sat at their spots, and we all started eating. I ate just fast enough to look normal, pushing my plate away and scooting my chair back.

“ I’m finished, I’ll be heading to school now.” I washed my dishes and grabbed my stuff in a hurry. MY father finished his coffee and stood up.

“ I can drive you to school.” I froze.

No no no no no.

“ That is….so incredibly generous of you sir, but I could never ask you to waste gas and possibly drive time on me.” I managed to get out without puking. We had a three second silent before he grunted.

“ Be home on time for once then Linnet.”

“ Yes sir.”

And then I was out and practically sprinting to school to get away from one hell and into another.

  I didn’t think school could get any worse without Dave, but I turned out to be very very wrong…

I avoided most everyone I could heading up the two steps and into the building. I kept my head down low and my pace quick, weaving my way through the crowd of kids with a practiced ease Dave had taught me.

‘ Left right left right side side left right pause right left back step side step left right left right….’ I spoke in my head, falling into the painfully familiar pattern of Dave’s steps when he walked through the crowd, me beside him as he guided me without issue.

I managed to make it to class, skipping my locker completely, and sat in my usual seat, internally cringing at that fact Dave couldn’t sit next to me anymore, which meant dealing with bitches, brats,bullies, and….him. I pulled out everything I needed for class and kept my backpack in my lap protectively. I tapped my foot quietly as i waited for class to start, praying class would just drag on uneventfully.

Someone high up there really DOES hate me apparently.

             “Well well well look who’s all alone? Too cool shithead finally dump you?” I gritted my teeth and ignored the taller boy lingering in the aisle between my desk and Dave’s former desk. The prick had a smug smirk on his face as he looked down at me. To everyone else, he was extraordinarily handsome and unfairly attractive, sun blonde hair cropped at his chin that curls around his ears and falls into his face occasionally, deep, inviting lush green eyes like a healthy summer meadow, sun kissed tan skin, tall at 6’2”, strong broad shoulders, well built figure, charming spotless white smile, dimples, baseball AND soccer captain, student body vice president, clean grades and a blindingly clean record and reputation to match. I didn’t look at him, at the guy that every girl in the whole damn school pined after, and tried to keep my focus on the front of the room and the clock.

I ignored that he was wearing a form fitting white tank top partially covered by a short sleeved jade green and white plaid flannel and well fitting smoky grey jeans that were rolled up at the bottom and showing off his spotless running shoes. He chuckled a bit at my lack of response.

Then he sat right in Dave’s old seat and set his notebook and textbook on the familiar surface, throwing me a smug little grin that to anyone else wouldve been nothing but friendly. I gripped my pencil tighter.

          “…Caleb thats Dave’s seat. Yours is on the other side of the room.” I ground out without looking at him, feeling every other student’s eyes on us, girls glaring and his crowd either confused or disapproving. Like i give a damn.

           “ well Davey boy is long gone from school and town by now. The whole school knows he moved away to Happy Harbor. So, now its MY seat Linn.” I tensed at the nickname and turned my head enough to shoot a glare at him.

             “ Don’t call me that. My name is Linnet.” I snapped quietly. There was a small moment of silence between us, the drone of the other students seeming to fade away as they slowly and reluctantly lost interest in us and looked away to talk amongst themselves. His grin fell and he brought his hand up and touched my cheek, a serious gleam appearing in his eyes.

              “ Linn are you not sleeping again?” He asked quietly and for a second the world seemed to tilt and start to slide out from under me.

Then i jolted back to reality and jerked away from him as the bell blared loudly. He faced front just like i did but i felt his eyes lingering on me, burning into me like a brand.

His stare was so much worse than the others in the room.

Chapter 2

  I had my stuff packed back into my backpack five minutes before class ended, and bolted out of there as soon as the bell sounded, dodging as many people as i could and sprinting to second period.

        “Hey! Wait!”

I ignored Caleb’s shout and forced my way through the crowds and quickly made my way to my seat. I kept my bag in my lap and rested my head down on my desk, forcing myself to calm down. I gripped my bag tighter so my fingers wouldn’t tremble. “ why the hell wont he just forget i exist…?” I mumbled out loud to myself.

“ Thats what we want to know! Hes obviously too good for the likes of someone like you. And yet he associates himself with your…filth.” I rolled my eyes at the familiar obnoxious female voice and the two ear grating agreements from my sisters. After a moment of me not responding the first voice cleared her throat annoyed.

“ Hello! Hey brat girl I’m talking to you!” I heaved a sigh and lifted my head and fixed a blank and unamused stare at her, a vague satisfaction of seeing her flinch slightly.

“ And I dont give a fuck Amber. Go pester someone else. I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” I said in a soft, bored voice as I set my head back down and ignored her. I didn’t even have to be looking at her to know my dead response made her so called “perfect” tan face redden and pinch up unattractively, her overly glossed bright pink lips curling in a hateful snarl as her big baby blue eyes glared harshly into the back of my head.

But I didn’t care, i needed to calm down.

I grunted when I felt one of her manicured hands grab a fistful of my hair and yank my head up that spiked sharp pain down my scalp, her expression livid. I glared back at her and without thinking snarled at her, baring my teeth just enough for her to let out a startled and disgusted shriek and let go of me.

“ WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU FREAK?!” I sneered at her screech before smoothing my expression into one of pain and hurt.

“ F-freak? W-why would you call me that…a-and why would you attack me like that out of nowhere! I was o-only looking over my notes for class! W-what is wrong with you Amber!?” She opened her mouth to yell at me more when someone cleared their throat and hurried towards us.

“ Ms. Jameson! What is the matter with you today?! How dare you attack another student like that! Go up to the office now I’ll deal with you with the assistant principal!” I sniffled as I looked up at Mr. Grimm. He hurried to me and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders and looked down at me worriedly over his black spectacles, his icy jade eyes concerned. Then he looked at Amber and those eyes froze over and narrowed in a disappointed glare.

“ Jameson. Office. Now. and Margret, Mariah. Go to your seats NOW. Not even a word out of you two. I’ll take you up to the office personally after class for allowing your sister to be harassed like that.” They flinched and sulked to their seats, shooting me glares when Mr. Grimm wasn’t looking. Once he sent Amber to the office he came back to me and looked me over as the bell rang.

“ Are you alright Linnet? Do you need to go to the infirmary?” I smiled shyly and shook my head.

“ M-my head kinda hurts from her yanking so hard on my hair…but other than that I think im ok Ro–Mr. Grimm.” He smiled at me, his pale face brightening like the sun breaking through the clouds. A few locks of chestnut hair fell into his face and he brushed it away absently.

“ I’m glad to hear it Linnet. Now class, lets get out our notebooks! We’ve got a biiiiig lecture today!” He gave me a small knowing wink before walking back to the front of the room and beginning his lecture on our new english unit. I sat down immediately and took as many notes as I could attentively.

Mr. Grimm was my favorite teacher, and was honestly like a father to me. He was tall and lithe, with enthused and gleaming pale jade eyes behind black rimmed glasses. He was pale and always dressed nice, no matter what the occasion and his old fashioned steampunk boots clicked against the tile floors. I ignored the feeling of my sisters glaring at me and paid extra close attention, his baritone voice soothing my frazzled nerves.

Unfortunately the class ended faster than I wanted, and i was the last one to leave, reluctantly packing my things. He looked at me from the door where he stood a few feet away from my sisters. He raised an eyebrow at me and I grimaced and blew a lock of hair from my face. He returned my silent response with another one of his own, giving me a sad and sympathetic look with his eyebrows furrowed while he smiled bitterly. He glanced back around the room then at me and I nodded, managing a smile.

Eat lunch in here with me today.

I waited until he walked away escorting my sisters to the office and slipped out of his classroom and hurried to my third period, just barely managing to make it to my seat by the bell. I kept my bag in my lap as I was finally able to get out my sketchbook and art pencils as I sat in my more secluded corner table for two near the back corner of the large art room, right behind a fairly small awkwardly designed part of the room that has a small wall, and a corner then led into the small alcove with the table next to and mostly hidden behind the big double bookshelf of art books and how-to-draw instruction books. I sat in the seat directly next to the bookshelf, leaning against its sturdy oak with a sigh. I tried to not look longingly at the chair next to me, Dave’s empty seat. I bit my lip before burying my nose into the shirt and nuzzling it briefly, taking in his comforting scent and relaxing. I flipped open my sketchbook and looked up as the art teacher walked over and checked to make sure I was in class, attendance sheet in hand. She gave me her eccentric little grin, her amethyst purple eyes almost glowing with their usual passion.

“ I knew I could always count on you to be present little bird!” Her gaze drifted to Dave’s seat and her smile softened to a motherly one.

“ Ah…right…big crow isnt with us in this city anymore….in that case little bird…you can work on whatever you wish, the art haven is at your disposal! I know I can trust you with the responsibility.” I smiled bigger and nodded to her, receiving a nod back as she marked me present and sauntered back to the front of the room, energetically explaining today’s activities.

If Mr. Grimm was a father to me then the art teacher, Ms. Sara was the mother I always wanted. With her short and wildly mussed up soot colored hair and bright amethyst eyes, her paint flecked and splattered pale skin, her wardrobe of stylized stockings, ripped and paint stained jean shorts, corsets and old fashioned short sleeved shirts, and knee high combat boots, she was considered eccentric but she was also too great of a teacher to even consider replacing her. She was always so kind and motherly to me…especially letting me and Dave sit in this secluded corner of the room to be ourselves and get away from everyone else. I shook away the memories and was tapping my pencil against my blank page when my phone buzzed quietly in my pocket. I pulled out my phone and smiled when I saw Dave’s name on my screen, everything in me relaxing and this morning’s troubles fading away as I unlocked my phone and tapped on the message.

‘ Hey Linn. Sorry I didn’t text earlier. Stupid teachers threatened to take my phone and sell it for parts. I finally got a chill teacher who’s letting me only have my phone out. You doing ok without me shorty?’ I wiped my eyes and began typing back immediately, giggling softly.

‘ Its hard….but im surviving without you. Just barely though. Glad you finally found a nice teacher that lets you use your phone in class.  I got Amber and my sisters sent up to the office. I think they’ll get suspended this time. Robert fully backs my story.’ there was a few long moments before his response popped back up.

‘ its about fucking time those bitches got what they deserve. And if Robbie backs your story you’re safe from your parents too(thank fucking god). Just keep hanging on shorty, you can make it. Thanksgiving break will be here before you know it and I’ll be back there with you for the entire week, your parents cant stop me.’ I smiled wider, all my stress easing away completely. Just as I was about to respond another message popped up.

‘ I miss you Shorty.’

‘ I miss you too Crow…like…fuck i miss you so much…’ there were another few long moments before he responded again.

‘ Remember, once senior year spring semester hits im packing you up and moving you here with me and my brothers. Dad wont care, he likes you. Just keep survivin Birdie. I’ll get you soon.’

‘ i know Davey….its what keeps me going. Cant wait.’

He texted that he had to go and we reluctantly said our goodbyes and I put my phone away, starting a random sketch. I didn’t really focus on what I was drawing, getting lost in thought.

“ Finally found you Linn.”

I snapped out of my thoughts immediately and glared up at Caleb through my bangs, praying to the hateful jerks up there that something will distract him and make him leave.

Wow whoever is up there seriously has to DESPISE me.

Instead of taking the hint from the glare and leaving me alone he sat down in Dave’s seat, setting down his stuff and his sketchbook on the table. I internally panicked a bit, to get out of my seat and out of class I’d have to go either past him or over him. He has me cornered against the bookshelf.

“ What do you want Caleb. Leave me alone.” He grunted and narrowed his eyes at me in an annoyed glare, turning his chair and body to face me and block me from any chance of escape unless I wanted to make a scene and climb over the table. I glared back from behind my bangs, tightening my grip on my pencil in order to hide the fact that my fingers were starting to tremble. There were a few seconds of tense silence between the two of us before he reached his hand out towards my face. I flinched away, leaning away from him and against the bookshelf. He glared a bit more as a stubborn gleam shone in his eyes, and he scooted his chair close enough that our knees touched and he leaned forward again, his hands tucking my bangs behind my ears. I felt….vulnerable, especially to him.

“ I knew it. You havent been sleeping again have you.” It was more of a confirming statement than any question. I huffed and looked away from him.

“ So what if I haven’t. It isn’t your concern or business Jackson.” He raised an eyebrow, giving me a wry smile.

“ Oh so we’re using last names now are we?” I didn’t answer him, not looking at him. I heard him snort and I felt his fingers gently but firmly grip my chin and turn my head to face him. I blinked once at the fact his face was much closer than before, only a little ways apart. His eyes were narrowed and serious again, and his mouth was tugged firmly into a stern line. His bangs fell and hung in front of his left eye as he looked at me.

“ It is my damn concern Linn. Now tell me why the hell you haven’t been sleeping again.” He planted his free hand next to my head to keep himself steady. I felt a cold sweat go down my back and I gulped slightly at his low, dead serious “do not argue with me” tone. I was silent and if possible he narrowed his eyes more.

“ Is it your family again? Or is it about that damn punk Strik–”

“ Shut up about dave!” I hissed between my teeth, forcing myself not to yell. He blinked once then scoffed, but didn’t repeat the last part of his question.

“ Are you getting bullied again? Is it your family again?” I couldnt stop myself from glancing away, my silence confirming his suspicions. He almost growled.

“ Goddammit Linn why haven’t you told me–”

“ Because its none of your business!” I snapped back, glaring at him. Our eyes locked, lush green glaring into equally glaring redwood brown eyes. We were practically nose to nose trying to make the other back down, but we were both too stubborn. A thick tense silence settled over us like a too heavy blanket, the noises from the rest of class seeming to fade away. Neither of us looked away, silently battling against each other

 ( And this is all I have so far. I know its long but I’ve been working really hard on it so bare with me here) (nightmaretyrantvantas)

[amesbrisees]

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send me a symbol for…     |    accepting

↳ ★ five times my muse thought yours looked breath-taking, and the one time they voice it

I.   He’s a perfect stranger to her as much as she’s a mystery to him. A silhouette of night time’s ubiquitous gloom, a chance encounter, the best friend they’d both ever had for a time lapse bound to come to a close much too soon. Heavenly and divine, even if only on second glance. Messy hair and bare skin, the depth of dark circles can’t be defined and they look like an odd couple on an ordinary Sunday night out. He’s clad in blood, while all she has to bring privacy its minimal limits of comfort are pieces of underwear he initially pays little attention to. He barely musters to strength to focus on looking through an opaque veil of smoke pulled shut in front of crystalline eyes, devoid of everything but the incessant tiredness and unyielding exhaustion, the endless fatigue he endures and the cruelty of an insomniac’s curse. It takes him a while to figure it out, and when he does, oh, he knows it won’t get much better than that. The moment of deep-rooted and mutually exclusive understanding, a tie that binds them for a moment or two, amidst tiles and glass and the irritating flicker of a white neon light. The ceaseless rummaging of laundry machines sets a consequent undercurrent for all noises in their surroundings, warm in the realm they claim their own for a brief encounter. Breathing and beating hearts – you could hear the flap of a butterfly’s wings in moments of blissful silence. 

She tells him that her father didn’t want her, nor did her mother. And it’s soul-crushing. So young and bitterly broken, it almost reminds him of himself. The pain behind wide eyes, the taste of heartache and tobacco against chapped lips and he knows he’s closer to a kindred spirit than he’s ever been before. Close enough he could easily reach out to her for a tender caress of her cheek and a murmured: “Some day everything will fall into place.”, but he’s no liar and bites his tongue. Close enough to cord callused fingers around her delicate neck like a tight rope a rasped: “All you have to do is jump. Only then it’ll be okay.”, but he’s not malevolent, nor a murderer. He’s too selfish to willingly crush her world further by brutality hidden inside sloppily hand-picked words. Too selfish to let go of the only thing that has felt real in the longest while. 

He asks her if she wants to get out, find a route to escape and her only response is a question. “Do you want to take me somewhere?”, and nothing has ever made more sense. And when they meet for an agreement on the upper middle ground, she tries to hide a smile, breaking through the cracks in a grin’s disguise. It’s the first time he sees how beautiful she actually is, with the apples of her cheeks full and eyes narrowed in the slightest, as if kissed by indirect sunlight. It’s the first time he sees it and he does what he always does. Lets the moment pass, slip through his fingers as his thought remains hidden in the secretive shadow of his mind. 

II.   Drunk on sleep. He’s barely awoken and unbearable tiredness keeps tugging at heavy eyelids, trying to coerce them to remain tightly shut against the burning kisses peppered through windows by the golden gleams of the afternoon’s sun. The bright rays break through the blanket of clouds concealing the sky’s impossibly blue hue. For a moment he’s lost in a hazy limbo, a trance lead by confusion and sickness and the hapless uncertainty of when it would all clear. 

Blinking with one eye shut, he squints through the blinding brightness of a natural source of light, bleeding into the dim room through a crack in the curtain. The countless variations of blots of yellow and the mossy hues in their motel room’s color scheme are so ugly they make him want to vomit. Only for as long as he buried his head in a dreamless sleep, he’s forgotten all about it. It’s a recurrent curse, coming back to haunt him when he gazes around from the sofa he lies upon, close to soft cushions embracing his body with warmth. It’s a low groan that escapes him, a raspy one, which comes flying from lips that stand partially ajar. The room lies in a rosy tinge, the warmth pulling his throat tight. Beads of sweat stand on his forehead and it takes him another handful of seconds until realization dawns and he registers the stark pharyngeal dryness. A tongue like sandpaper coils against his mouth’s hard palate, dying for a taste of sweet water.

He moves with aching limbs, stirs against the stagnant air and in that moment he figures that it must be why he’s got a headache like lightning crashing inside his skull. A great big sigh heaves from strained lungs, while the ongoing process of figuring out in which century he finds himself within remains ongoing, he fails to notice her in the open bathroom door. 

Her ‘Hi’ is not quite a whisper, more of a low hum and he feels like an idiot for tweaking the most faint of smiles, giving a murmured greeting in return. Moments of silence –one, two, three up to four– pass by, before either of them speak. He asks her if they want to leave once dusk had wrapped its dark gown over their part of the world’s northern hemisphere and she gives a curt nod. Blonde tendrils drip with water from a shower she must have just taken, stain an oversized shirt, hanging loosely from her shoulders, sheer in the spots where cascading droplets come to meet the thin white cotton fabric. Legs bare and her face bears the expression of someone who’s had too little sleep to make up for the grams they’ve smoked since their journey into nowhere had first started. She looks like someone who needs a good night’s sleep and a friendly hug. Like someone who has to relearn, not happiness, but mere contentment. She looks like someone who could break hearts, like someone who doesn’t quite know how not to. And when she asks him what’s wrong, since he must have been staring, he wants to tell her that she looks pretty, the way the warm light hits half of her face and her hair a soaked mess. But instead, he just deepens the smile and shakes his head. Nothing. 

III.   The atmosphere is pregnant with cheap liquor and beer, cigarette smoke drawing circular patterns into the warm air. The two of them are seated in a shadowy nook, somewhere hidden away from sight in the far back of the room. They drink up over and over. He needs a break from hours spent on the run from their prisons that chase them, on the race toward the finish line with rewarding freedom, which he fears is nothing but a modern myth. A flawed tale, told to children to stir false hope, raising them up toward the heavenly skies where angels weep for their fate, so their fall will be greater and the damage irreparable. It’s their fate. Survival is claimed by them with each day they keep going on their journey toward something which they will never find, but they tell each other that it’s better than staying still, being in one place for too long.

He’s gotten a taste for wanderlust and he thinks he might finally get it. The reason people love the complex maze of empty highways at night so much, the sound of running engines and nights spent inside a car parked at a gas station in nowhere, so vacant it oozes a sense of dreadful eeriness and explicit danger. Living the life of nocturnal animals, living from one day to the other, to the next. Ceaseless and constant. He can appreciate it for as long as he’s not alone. Only for as long as she’s by his side to serve the function of the best companion to laugh with, at bleak jokes and the emptiness of their glum existence. How pointless life truly is, or if maybe they’re just too drunk to place its true meaning, the sense binding all hardships and light-headed instances, eventually falling short somewhere down the line. 

The chatter of others seamlessly ties into guitar music bleeding through old speakers. He only notices how bad the quality truly is when they walk toward the door in their way out, before they paid for their drinks. Silence falls into the cracks tearing open between them as they shuffle across the damp asphalt, following the glow of street lights. It starts slowly – the rain. Drop by drop it comes falling down, and the angels must be weeping again. She steps ahead, gazes upwards while his heart bends to the breaking point and he’s the twenty year old guy again, snapped from peaceful sleep into a nightmarish world, where the heavy rain doesn’t end. But she draws pirouettes on the sidewalk, twirls and sends her blonde hair spiraling as it follows her circling dance with her palms facing the black sky. He’s still. Torn in conflict, his heart conjuring up the unwanted memories. They’re a growing lump in his throat, so he can’t tell her that for once, the rain isn’t as bad as it’s always been. All of a sudden it’s more bearable – by no means easy, by no means peaceful and tranquil and marvelous, still quite the opposite. But for once, he understands what others must see when they claim the world is more beautiful during a downpour. 

IV.   He’s unsure of how he got her to go with him, but they sit on the floor in an aquarium. Their final destination before they’d have to exit the beautiful underwater world. Eels and sharks, rays and walruses. Now, they sit here, with no one but two foreigners on vacation nearby, looking at the manatees. Idly floating in the water as if their weight is an illusion they refuse to put on golden scales. Bumping into each other without severe damage taken. And he tells her a story of his sixth birthday and it might be the first personal story he shares with her. How his mother took him out to Coney Island, got him ice cream and he could decide what it was they should be doing for the rest of the day. How she’d taken the day off to be with him, since his father wouldn’t give him that pleasure as he’d begun to openly resent his son just mere years prior. How she’d agreed to take him to the aquarium to gaze at the humble giants living in the sea, lazily floating in water and how often he’d returned there whenever he needed an escape. How they’d eaten a funnel cake for lunch and he’d had to make a promise to never tell his father. He tells her that it’s easily the only day of his childhood he has no qualms remembering. Easily one of the luckiest days he can recall, from when his innocence had still been intact.

It might be sadness and jealousy or some kind of happiness that at least one of them had a decent day in their younger years. He isn’t sure, but it smoothes his story with a thick layer of deep regret. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her, made her aware that his mother actually cares about him, even if it was never enough to deter his father from all his violent words. 

Nudging her with his shoulder, he gives her a droopy half-smile, a little lopsided and crooked but absolutely genuine. “Tomorrow we’ll do whatever you want.” It’s a promise he makes, because he longs to see that smile on her face again. The one from the night they’d first met between blood stains and cigarette smoke. Wants to try to make forget how unhappy she may be, feel the sacred present of peace contentment brings. He promises her she gets to call the shots and he promises to be in, no matter what it is she wants to do, without complaint. 

After an hour, they’re still on their spots on the ground, cross legged and with slacking posture. And while she still looks at the creatures in the tank, which should be swimming somewhere in freedom, a sick reflection of a feeling he knows she can relate to, he only looks at her. How the blue of the water glows on her fair skin, almost in awe. But he swallows down the words, because he knows she would hear them. 

V.   Chlorine’s distinctive scent hangs in the tepid air like a disease, but the cold of the swimming pool’s water makes it easier to handle the southern heat. They went for the house with no cars parked up front, the driveway as vacant as the star-shy sky above their heads. Rid of most of their clothes, they dove head first into the cold. Water sticks their undergarments to their bodies, the dim light of 6AM keeps them safe and sound. Pallid tinges of orange and blue stretch across the cope of heaven, a gradient disrupted by few painted clouds, sparsely scattered across the gaping view. 

Empty bottles, a small quantity of two, lie on the green grass some feet from the border of the pool. He isn’t sure for how long they’ve been in here, splashing water in each other’s faces until they couldn’t breathe anymore, how many sips of whisky they’ve spilled to merge with the water, heavy with chemicals to keep it sterile to the touch. She holds her legs wrapped around his waist she’s weightless, stares up into the transforming sky on her back with her arms extended to either side of her slim frame. The halo of blonde hair floats just below the water’s surface and for a moment they’re absolutely still. He’s only recently learned about her penchant for the taking of photographs to last an eternity and remembers asking if he could look at some of the pictures taken by her to see if they coincide with his imagined concept of the talent of a young woman with tragedy woven into her DNA. He doesn’t remember the answer she’s given him through the neon haze of night, doesn’t remember what’s the reason he hasn’t laid a single eye on her photographs or if there’s a reason to retreat for solace to, at all. And he keeps his own occupation to himself, a secret tucked away in the shadow cast by a heart beating painfully violent inside his chest. 

But now there’s just calmness and tranquil motion and he licks his lips to be welcomed by the taste of whisky and chlorine. It’s disgusting but he doesn’t grimace. She says that in a moment like this she feels like they can live forever. That they are eternal like the gods people pray to and the thought alone makes his skin crawl. He replays the sound of her voice inside his head, until it resounds from the bone of his ears like stray bullets. Clear enough to cut glass and yet he can tell the consequences of one too many drinks from the bottles. All glazed eyes and a heavy heart, deadpan and vacant of emotion. It prompts another shiver down his spine. 

She presses her legs against his sides, his hands on her lower back following when she pulls herself up to one level with him. And when she asks him if it sounds silly, if he thinks so, too, there’s a spark ignited behind those eyes, which remind him of a life he’d once lived. Missed opportunities and enduring until he’s devoid of purpose. She asks him if they could be like that, he’s missing nothing but the words to phrase an eloquent answer. There’s something so terribly akin to hope in her gaze it makes his stomach twitch and twist into a wound up coil, riddled with anxiety. He wants to tell her that if nothing’s wrong and nothing’s right they can be whatever they want. That she looks heavenly and makes him wish he’d had his camera with him, but his breath isn’t big enough to bring it all tumbling from his mouth. So instead he leans in, plants a short yet tender kiss on her lips, for it’s the only answer he has for someone like her.

VI.   The road’s so long, emptiness wrapped up in the landscape, he forgets that they don’t have a clue of where they’re headed. She just follows the trail of asphalt, mended at the cracks neglectfully, as if the constructors had little concern for the wellbeing of those simply driving through. They’re headed toward the darkness unfolding in the sky on the line of a faint horizon, singing along to some Springsteen song and are so off tune he can’t help but cringe occasionally. But it barely does enough to capture his smile and make it disappear, so all that’s left for it to do is growing and widening, deepening until it’s bearing teeth and turns into a full-fledged grin. Night time is just an hour away, but he knows better than to bid the sun goodbye. He knows she’ll return when the morning breaks and the firmament mends itself back together, where night had torn it open at the old seams. 

He looks over as they sing along, and it’s refreshing. Nothing matters, and the existential weight of the cosmos and their Milky Way galaxy is lifted from their fragile shoulders and dissolve into star dust glistening in the empty atmosphere. Through the smile she holds he recognizes familiarity, heavy lidded and yawning between the hook and chorus. And when the song’s over and they’re both breathless and smiling and their throats are sore from giving their everything for nothing, she tells him they need to refill once they hit the next gas station. Her voice is hoarse and tired and nothing like it usually is. He nods, notices she hasn’t seen and utters a quiet affirmation, vocal enough just so she can hear. And it won’t be until an hour later that they are greeted by the friendly neon shell of orange and red, and the car gets pulled over until it comes to a halt, the engine dies when she twists the key and wants to get out. It’s he who stops her dead in her tracks. A hand on her shoulder and he tells her that it’s fine, he will take care of it. She should just go to sleep. It’s been a long forty-two hours they’ve spent awake and talking, musing and retreating into bubbles of silence, like they are the only living souls on a dead planet that lies in ashes and rubble in an empty galaxy. 

When he gets out he watches her climb onto the backseat and he gives her a last of his faint smile, which he is almost sure she doesn’t see. The gas tank gets as full as it bears to be. He brings some food and two bags of chips with a discount of a dollar for each, for the two of them, some bottles of water, too, since they can’t live off of weed and whisky at all times. 

And when he returns and sits down behind the wheel, he heaves a long sigh. Squeezes his eyes shut, wondering what the hell it is that he’s doing with a girl so young and so full of poison. But then he remembers her words: My father didn’t want me. My mom didn’t either… She’s never said it to my face, but I can tell, I know she thinks that he would’ve stuck around if they never had me. 

He turns his head around, looks at her in the dim flicker of a street light, the shadows it casts in stark contrast. A shadow play on her features, sound asleep and peaceful for once. Like there’s not a single bad memory she’d ever made, like she’s loved and knows, secure in a family she deserves. He says her name lowly, wants to see if she’s awake. She doesn’t stir a single muscle, unfazed by the intrusion of his raspy whisper. And so he peels his arms from his jacket’s sleeves, takes it off and shifts to put it over her body to serve as a make-shift blanket. He looks at her for a while, breathing into the silence, and his eyes seem like he’s concerned. 

“I’m sorry.” He says into the void prevailing in the still vehicle and he means it. Part of him glad she’s asleep to never memorize the foolish confession of a man who finds pieces of himself reflected in things she’s willingly sharing with him so far, part of him reveling in moderate indifference, not worried what would be if her slumber is a mere pretense and she’d become witness to what he’s about to say. He reaches out, wants to stroke back strands of blonde which have slipped and fallen to cover closed eyes, but stops mere inches away. Lets his arm drop and hit against the front seat’s backrest, not too concerned with the noise it might create. “You’re beautiful and you don’t even know.” Ironic, truly. “And if they don’t see that, it’s not your fault.”