#boy did my mom lose her fucking mind on me cause i changed the locks on my apartment

[slutdge]

I need to go look at pictures of old mens slutty slutty whore dad bods for 6 hours for my mental health

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

[johnsamericano]

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

[kashimos-hajime]

twenty questions (7/8) | r.b.

summary: No, he refuses to lose someone else. Not again, not you. Never fucking you. Or, after four years, Reiner meets you once more.

WARNINGS: angst, just conversation, a bit of violence, mentions of trauma, children ummmmm yeee, jean also appears <3 true king pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 8.3k

a/n: reiner returns!! welcome to the penultimate chapter and thank you for being on this journey with me :) again, song is not mine! it’s the wellerman sea shanty hehe

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Morning streams through the curtains.

You part the billowy white fabric, pushing open the window breathing in the late morning air. As always, it’s warm and ripe with the aroma of the fresh bread from the bakery you live above, and as you lean on the windowsill, you hear the door below you chiming with new patrons. You smile to yourself, resting your chin on your hand.

Even still, you can’t help but admire how beautiful it is, especially in the streets here, far away from a industrial zone. The Liberio interment zone is small, yes, but it’s no less beautiful. The architecture of brick and glass all hold an austere beauty, and when the sunset is upon you, the shadows they cast and the warmth that embraces the stone is something you’ve never quite seen before. There’s a church, and you’ve sat inside day a few days before, watching the light stream through the stained glass in amazement.

A knock at the door takes you from your thoughts and you let out a sharp noise of surprise, gaze ripping away from the busy streets. A tremor shoots through you and you swallow harshly, waiting in bated breath.

“The shop’s busy as bees, today!” your landlord admonishes on the other side. You let out a relieved sigh, relaxing a bit. “If you want, I can still save you a loaf!”

“No, thank you!” you shout over your shoulder, reaching to close the window and get ready for the day. Sliding a warm vest onto your shoulders, you adjust the hat on your head and grab your bag from the counter, your bare fingers a bit cold and numb.

You burn at the thought of Reiner. You don’t want to see him, even if you live in the same city now, but all the same, it’s hard to avoid him. After all, it’ll only be so long before you’re forced to confront your past, push yourself into his way because how long, really, can you stay away from him? As you slide the white armband onto your bicep, your heart tightens. You’ve seen the man he’s grown into—handsome, tired, lonely. That only reflects in you.

Pulling your arms through your jacket, you stare at the woodgrain beneath your feet emptily.

Why am I even here? 

Coming to Marley, of all places. Some days, you can’t wrap your head around it, before you’re reminded of the reason. It all has a purpose. You just have to keep going—keep moving forward.

Continuing through your loft, you shove your feet into boots and head out for the day. The festival’s tonight—you have lots to do before then.

.

Night slips in.

Reiner frowns when he realizes he’s walking back to the stage. He’s been trailing after the sound for a good half-hour, but considering they stay relatively nearby his final destination, he’s never felt the urge to detract. 

He still can’t place the tune that’s been hummed, whistled, sang gently and leading him on, and as the sky darkens and the crowd noise grows louder, he realizes that his trail is slowly growing colder and colder.

“Hey, Reiner!” His head swivels to find Gabi waving at him and he meanders over, frowning a bit. “Where’d you go? The others said you wandered off.”

“I took a walk to clear my head,” he says dismissively, ignoring her frown deepening. “I see you’ve recovered from your food coma.” Immediately, Gabi’s frown turns into a pout and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.” He snorts, turning to survey the area. The others are milling about. Zeke and Colt are talking by the bench, and Pieck and Porco are off together, as usual. They’re not half as inconspicuous as they think they are. Finding Udo and Zofia, his brow wrinkles when he can’t catch sight of a certain blond boy. 

“Where’s Falco?”

“He ran off earlier, saying he saw someone he knew,” Gabi says, waving it away. “He’s always being so weird. Who else could he know besides us?”

“What, are you jealous?” he teases, ruffling Gabi’s hair and she lets out a squawk, smacking at his hand. Chuckling gently, he surveys the area again as they walk towards their seats. Zeke and Colt give him a nod in greeting, one he returns. 

“Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” he replies distantly. His eyes keep searching, a ticklish feeling at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if he can really hear that tune still at the edge of his hearing, nagging for his attention. Sighing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “What Falco does during his free time isn’t on your need-to-know basis, Gabi.”

“I know. I’m just saying—he doesn’t even have any friends besides us,” she says pointedly just as someone calls his name.

“Mister Braun!” Falco skids to a stop in front of him, his forehead gleaming with sweat, even in the cooler night air. Panting, he leans forward on his knees, meeting Reiner’s eyes, and Gabi tilts her head, confused and agitated and betraying her previous aloof words.

“Where the hell did you go?”

Ignoring her, Falco continues to try and catch his breath, barely punching out, “Can you come with me?” before looking down at the floor again, his shoulders rising and falling so quickly Reiner almost feels bad for him.

He frowns. “Right now?”

“You’ll be fine,” Zeke assures. The two look at the older man who glances at his watch. “It shouldn’t start for a few more minutes.”

Reiner debates it for a moment. Then again, it’s not like he’s the number one fan of this show. His presence is for appearance’s sake at this point, and if Falco insists, then it must be something important. Sighing, he nods and Falco takes off again. Telling Gabi to explain his absence to his mom should he not return in time, he walks after the sprinting boy, his mind a whirlwind on the possibilites of why he’s in such a hurry.

Falco stops past a blue curtain that’s near a residential building and points at the arch, smiling. His entire face is flushed and Reiner cocks an eyebrow, approaching closer before hearing a soft voice singing. It only grows as he passes by the blue partition, and his heart picks up as his eyes widen.

“…The Captain's mind was not on greed… But he belonged to the whaleman's creed… She took that ship in tow… Soon may the Wellerman come to bring us sugar and tea and rum. One day, when the tonguin' is done, we’ll take our leave and go…”

He knows that tune. The sailors sang it in the port city after Fort Slava. It’s one of their sea shanties—it’s rare to hear them anywhere except by the water, and when he reaches Falco, searching for that voice, his eyes fix on a figure leaning against the archway underneath the building.

The woman in purple.

Falco runs up to her. A hand is on her bicep when she shifts to look at the boy, and Reiner’s throat swells as his legs move on their own accord. Time seems to slow as Falco turns around, mouth open in words that go in through one ear, and out the other. 

The woman says something, and Falco twists back, frowning a bit, but she only nods encouragingly, and off he goes, running on ahead, down to the end of the pathway out of Reiner’s sight.

A strangled noise leaves his mouth as the blond slips from his view.

The woman in purple’s head snaps up at the sound, and Reiner’s entire body locks when he finally recognizes the face that searches his impassively. The white armband is covered still by her fingers, but when she pushes off the wall, it’s almost as if she bewitches him to come even closer.

And he does, his hand lifting up to reach for her. Reach for what has to be a ghost. No…

No, it can’t be. No. No, I’m seeing things, I am, I—

You lift your hand off your armband, and when his fingers meet your palm, he feels your warmth, the way your skin slides against his as he interlaces their fingers, and he chokes, entire body burning from the inside out as you fold your fingers over his palm, yank him into the shadow with enough force to unbalance him. You side-step and fling his hand off, let him crash to his hands and knees. Pain shoots up his joints and his eyes widen when he realizes his skin has scraped off on the stone.

“Hello, Reiner,” you murmur. He draws himself up, and there’s a strange lifelessness as he looks up to a face barely illuminated by light. You unbutton your jacket and crouch before him, arms on your knees. His skin steams and stitches itself back together and he swallows through a dry throat as your eyes flutter to the white wisps. There’s a raw damage lingering on your face, haunting like ghosts that should be long dead, before you blink.

Your long coat brushing the floor covers black armour, harnesses criss-crossing your legs and body. Your expression is severe, lips pressed in an impassive line, dark shadows under your eyes. The armband around your bicep is slathered in dark red, staining the symbol.

So that’s what you were hiding from Falco.

Reiner half-wonders who’s blood it is. If it’s the owner of the clothes you wear, or someone else’s entirely.

You lift your head, staring at Reiner properly for the first time in years. Clenching your jaw, you only look. You do not speak, you do not move. It’s terrifying. It reminds Reiner eerily of Captain Levi, with the same chillingly placidity, and he remembers how you used to smile so wide you’d complain your cheeks ached, how you would lean against him, clutching your gut ‘cause he made you laugh, and he had never heard a sound so perfect—

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “What are you doing here? Are you insane?” 

You barely move. Only tilt your head mockingly. “Probably.” 

Four years has changed you into a taller, leaner, stronger soldier—and he can only soak that in. You’re…

His breath catches in his throat. 

You’re beautiful.

But you’re crouching right in front of him, and you’re in danger. If Marleyans were to approach now, he’s not sure if he could lie his way out and that blood. How can he explain the blood on your sleeve?

You’d be left for dead, hanged for the crows. 

The image flashes through his mind like cold dread, a trickling drip of an icicle hanging in his mind and freezing his spine.

No, he refuses to lose someone else. Not again, not you. Never fucking you.

It is why he demands again through a hissed breath,“What are you doing here?” Why he stands up quick enough that their heads nearly collide, and you straighten up as well, smoothly running your hands over your coat.

You only look at him deftly as if he is as inconsequential to you as a roach. You don’t even twitch as his hand reaches forward, fighting through the searing ache in his chest. “You need to leave. You shouldn’t be here. I can smuggle you back to the port and take you home, I—.”

Your stare paralyzes him and his hand falters. “I don’t take orders from you. You are not my commanding officer, and I do not need you to tell me what I need.” Your fingers dig into the bloody armband at your bicep and Reiner’s eyes widen as you tear it off, planting it on his chest hard enough his lungs spasm and he lets out a sharp breath. Your fingers spread out over his chest, you step closer. “I don’t need you to save me. Not from Marley. Not from myself. And not from you.”

His hand comes to cover yours, but you slip out before he can touch you, and he’s left with an armband in his palm. Clutching it in a tight fist, he stares down at it for a moment before shoving it in his pocket and turning around.

Your name comes out of him without even thinking as you walk past him, and it must still hold something because you pause, head turning slightly to look at him. “I want to explain myself,” he chokes out, and the corner of your mouth curls into a hollow smile. “Please.”

“Follow me, Reiner,” you order softly, and without question, he falls half a step behind you, eyes trained on the ground. His head is swimming at your presence, and his knees are gummy, stomach convulsing as he tries to come up with what to say. Or maybe, what to say first. He’s had four years to come up with a proper way to say it, and he reaches for his breast pocket, where the letters he’s folded away rest, with shaking hands.

“Please…”

“I don’t know what you think begging will get you.” Something stony falls upon your face. “I’ve had four years to get over the fact that you used me. Now, I think I just don’t care anymore. I’m sure you have your reasons, but I don’t know if it’ll be the truth. You’ve had no problem lying to me before in the past.”

“That’s not true.” He doesn’t know to which part of what you said he means. The last part, every part. “I never lied about how I felt about you.”

“Right. Like I wasn’t just some pawn on your chessboard. Some lonely girl you could use to entertain yourself.” Your pace doesn’t slow, but your tone is laced with anguish you try so hard to cover. “At least Bertholdt had the courage to look me in the face and tell me he was going to kill me.” You stop by a crate, labelled as supplies for the play. Maybe they contain masks, or costumes, and Reiner stops, his shoes skidding against the stone as you reach into your coat.

Pulling out a knife, you wedge it into the crate and pry the lid off and Reiner’s entire body numbs when ODM gear gleams in the straw. It looks refashioned, sleeker, and in two parts, and he catches your hand reaching for the harness. 

Weapons, here.

You aren’t stupid enough to take on Marley on your own, which can only mean—

Shit, shit, shit. 

Dread trickles through his body.

“What are you two doing—Oh, Vice Chief Braun!” You slam the lid shut and press your left arm flush against Reiner’s body, covering it up as someone on their right approaches. Your hand tightens around the knife still wedged between the lid, and Reiner sets a hand on your shoulder, dragging you so he can cover you up better and as a warning.

Don’t do it. You’re stiff against him despite the easy expression on your face, and he sets a harsh glare on the intruder. Let go of that blade. Your entire body is rigid with a hot energy he doesn’t recognize as your fingers only tighten around the hilt. Don’t do it—

“Sorry to interrupt, but those are one of the crates we need for the play. It contains some costumes—“

 The performer looks stricken as you flash him an easy smile and Reiner’s blood freezes when the stranger seems to blush, voice fading.

“I actually work with Lord Tybur,” you explain easily with a tiny laugh, betraying the strength in your fist. “He wants to inspect it briefly before I return it. I think it contains the Helos costume? Gotta make sure every detail’s to his liking!” Your tone, innocent and cheery, floats through the distant sound of the crowd, and Reiner only stares at the performer who seems to shrink in his skin. Your fingers twitch when he hesitates.

“Oh, of course.” He scratches the back of his head, and you give him a gracious nod before he’s walking away.

You watch him go, and Reiner feels the way the air shifts when your smile fades away as soon as it came. You step away from him, loosening the knife from the crate. His hands burn as he reaches for your shoulder again, but you jerk back.

“You know,” you begin quietly, staring at the lid, “all this time, I thought I had actually found people again, you know. I thought you actually cared about me, but really, I realized all you’ve ever done is lie. Even after everything. Even after Marco died, and I told you how I felt about you, you just kept lying. Lying and painting yourself to be a knight in shining armour.”

“I tried—I tried to stop myself from caring about you,” he whispers raggedly, hands rolling into fists tight enough that his nails dig into his flesh, “but it happened anyway. That part of who I was was never a lie.”

“So you never saw me as someone you needed to protect? As this poor, lonely girl who loved you? Who fed your ego and—”

“Of course I wanted to protect you! I loved you, too!” he snaps and distantly, he recognizes this is the first time they’ve ever confessed that what they had… that it was somehow real and too good for him. It nearly makes him shatter. “How could I—“ He closes his eyes, teeth gritting as the flames inside him roar, consuming his heart. “How could I just stand back and watch you get hurt by the consequences of my actions? It’s because of me you were forced to leave the farm, leave that girl. Because of me you knew Marco and Mina and Thomas. You could have been so much happier if you never met any of us—I knew that—I just thought I could somehow—”

“Happier if I never met you,” you echo blankly before nodding to yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right.” He flinches but you continue on, “In the end, it doesn’t matter, though. I’ve learned to not let the what ifs haunt me, because my time with you… it still means everything to me.” You shake your head. “That’s the truth. You dropped a building on me and broke my bones. Truth. You left me alone in those walls with Bertholdt dead and Annie comatose, and you did so knowing you are the last damn person I’ve got that I’d kill for. Truth.”

Reiner’s eyes widen as your words sink into his skin like a vicious poison.

So that’s it then. Bertholdt is dead and Annie… Annie’s still alive?

You don’t give him a moment’s breath to ask as you take a step forward. On reflex, he steps back, hands raising, and your eyes flash to his palms. One wrong move, and a Titan will overtake the square. He’s sure he can read the thought in your eyes, but when you look at him again, he only sees cold indifference.

“You nearly killed me, Reiner. So tell me…”

Metal flashes and a breath stalls in his throat as a cold knifepoint digs into the bump along his throat. It bobs when he swallows, lips parted, and you meet his eyes, every inch of agony he’s forced upon you glaring back at him reforged.

“Why shouldn’t I repay the favour?”

His breath stalls, and he looks down at your fingers, wrapped tight around the hilt, nearly shaking. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold the weapon that tightly, or if you’re just as afraid as he is.

Either way, it doesn’t matter.

“Do it, then,” he whispers. “I’m the reason this all happened.”

Your eyes, wide, search his beseechingly and his heart crumbles to dust. Even after all this time, you still hesitate. Why? Because you think he’ll come back? That he’s… redeemable somehow? 

Reiner envies that—he wants to believe that there is still good. But there isn’t. He knows it.

“I have a thousand questions,” you murmur achingly, as if the words are wrenched from your throat. “Over the years, I’ve tried to come up with some incomprehensible list. I couldn’t decide which was the one I wanted answered the most, but I thought why did it matter? After all, it wasn’t like I’d ever see you again. But here I am, now.”

As you lower the knife, the tip of the blade scratches his skin, light enough only to leave a white trail until it falls away, just like when he held you at blade-point four years ago, the tip of a sword digging into your sternum. 

How poetic that he finds himself here, his life in your hands. This is your retribution, he supposes, and your mercy, fighting for control of your arm, but you sheathe your knife again with a sharp, smooth thrust at your hip. There’s a soft scrape before you set your hands atop the lid, sighing softly.

A terrifying glint lives in your eyes as you smile at him faintly, and hoist the crate into your arms. 

“So, Reiner.” You tilt your head, gesturing for him to follow you down the pathway to a set of stairs that must lead to a deeper cellar. Somewhere he can’t transform in. Smart. You always were, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d never hurt you again, especially when he’s already done so much to prove that his words are empty. Yet, nothing is more important than protecting you, and Gabi, and Falco, but— “What do you say to a game of twenty questions?”

.

You flip a page. The day’s labour has you sweating into your harness, but all you want to do is just finish this damn chapter. Pulling carts out of mud like a damn mule wasn’t fun, but at least it had you busy. But, God, did you just want to relax for an eternity now.

Even after four years, you’d think your body would grow accustom, but every day, something new tests you.

“Hello?” a voice by your door calls and you look up from your book, smiling automatically at the kid peering into your room. He’s one of the younger orphans who didn’t come from the immediate wreckage of the fall of Trost but rather just a few months ago, you had found him in the woods, walking away from one of the smaller settlements.

You don’t ask, let him come and tell you more, and although you know his name, you know it’s hard for him to talk about anything else.

What you do know is that he is one that still climbs into your bed when there’s a thunderstorm, and that he’s a sweet, yet studious child with a knack for trouble when the girls invite him to hang out with them. 

That doesn’t mean he’s any less attached. He’s probably the one who clings to you the most, and you get up, closing your book. Setting it down on the nightstand, you crouch in front of him and pat his head. 

“Hi,” he says again.

“What’s going on, Xavier?” His red hair is still damp. He must’ve just taken his bath and he shrinks under your hand, probably to protect the clean smell clinging to his skin and locks. Lifting your hand amusedly, you tap his nose. He breaks out into a gap smile. 

He lost his tooth just three days ago, and you remember how proud he was, bursting into the fields during study period to show you as you untied the horses from the plow.

“There’s a man who wants to see you.”

“A man?” You frown, looking over his shoulder. Placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, you pull him into your room, out of the way of the door. “Did he say what his name was? Or if he was military?” The kids know the military insignias. Praying silently to yourself, you glance uneasily at your nightstand where a gun is hidden in the drawer. You could probably arm yourself in time. Xavier tugs at your ear. You look back at him, eyebrows creasing as you glance over his shoulder. 

“He said his name was Jean and that you would know who he was. He’s waiting outside.”

“Jean?” you repeat sharply, standing. Xavier flinches, looking up at you, and you scoop him up before heading to the nightstand, yanking open the drawer and grabbing the gun. Arms worm around your neck, and you squeeze the child closer to yourself as you quietly slip out into the hallway, towards where the other kids’ room is.

“Girls, close the door and lock it,” you order quietly, as you walk into the . The two sisters—Alina and Anya who share the room—look up from whatever they’re doing, and Anya gets up from her bed, but you merely send her a warning look as you  “Everything’s okay. Anya’s in charge until I get back.”

She nods, and you set Xavier down but he doesn’t let go of your neck, hugging you tight to him. Letting out a strangled sigh, you slowly pull him away, cupping his face. Your heart is slow, steady, and you take a measured breath as Alina glances out the window that is right over their desk.

“I’ll be okay. I want to make sure we’re safe.” His eyes flicker over your face and you nod reassuringly.  “You know what to do. Listen to Anya, alright? Try to get some sleep.” The redheaded boy nods and you stroke his cheek with a thumb before he scampers towards Anya’s bed. You stand.

You leave the room, shut it behind you as Alina draws the curtains shut, and your mind is thrumming with ideas of who it could be.

Entering the kitchen, you head to the porch with a quick glance at the window. There’s a figure leaning against the fence, back to you, and your fingers around your gun tighten. Draped in dark fabric and ash-brown hair shining in the oil lamps hanging on the porch, you can’t make out a face as you step into the bracing night.

“What do you want?” 

The figure jolts to his feet, turning around. Edges dulled by the night, you can barely make out his features until he steps into the light, and your finger pad taps the trigger when brown eyes meet yours. Heart lurching, everything rushes back to you and you manage to control the sharp inhale, tempering it into a slow and steady breath that swells up in your lungs.

“It’s been a while,” he comments idly, and you swallow through the hard knot in your throat. Eyes flicking to the gun in your hand, the small smile that had been curving his lips drops away. “You’re a hard person to track.”

“How’d you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy, but Captain Levi saw that some of us were getting desperate.”

Four years.

Four years since you’ve seen any of them except Captain Levi, who only visits to make sure you haven’t been raided by bandits and killed in the months between his check-ins.

In that time, seasons have changed, you’ve sprained your shoulder, it healed; you’ve been thrown off a horse, and gotten back up. You had a period where you would write letters every waking second you were left alone in your room, debating whether or not you should destroy them or send them just for the sake of feeling like you had someone again.

All those letters are still wedged in a box under your bed, so there’s that answer.

Jean stands at the bottom of your porch and you nod, gesturing for him to come in. Your heart plummets as you do so. You don’t know why Jean even bothered.

He closes the door behind you, and you set the gun on the dining table before moving towards the stove, and you ask him if he wants any tea, gracious host that you are. He shrugs and you begin to boil some water. It’ll give you time to look him over as he sits down.

He’s grown the beginnings of a beard since you last saw him. And he’s taller. Way taller than you remember. He’s gotten more muscle, holds himself differently, he’s… still Jean, in all respects, but he’s…

Tired.

You’re sure that’s one word you’re looking for. 

Migrating to the hearth, you wonder if he’s doing the same to you. Studying you like you’re a stranger. 

You start a fire, feeding it freshly chopped firewood from the day before and stoking it before letting it feast.

You never liked doing that before. Swinging an axe down on wood, watching it split. Now, it’s the only time you get alone to your thoughts. You don’t have to focus on chopping wood. All you have to do is swing an axe until it’s nothing more than muscle memory. You can just… be. 

Maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s why Reiner liked doing it.

You sigh, and grab the iron poker, keeping an eye on the stove. You don’t know if Jean wants to skip the small talk. You do, but mostly because you don’t like it when your old life comes into your new one. You can make yourself believe you can’t go back when no one’s here to remind you, and that the guilt won’t gnaw you until you’re only bones. 

Absently, you remember Bertholdt used to like small talk—Jean seems less so.

“I have news. I don’t know if you want to hear it, but you’re still military.”

“Not labelled a deserter, yet?” you inquire dryly. Everything is moving so slowly around you, yet so quickly. It’s a terrible sensation. “I feel honoured.”

“Let’s cut the shit, alright. What the hell are you doing here?”

“No idea.”

“You disappeared! No one had seen you in weeks—we thought you were dead until the captain came back with strict orders not to look for you, but do you know how ominous that sounds?” Something bites at your gut as you stare into the flames, and Jean shoots to his feet, chair scraping against the wooden floor. “You were our friend!”

His words sink into your shoulders, but you only blink, staring into the growing hearth.

“Don’t you care? You left!”

“I don’t regret it. It’s not like I’m begging to become a Scout again,” you murmur, looking over your shoulder at him. A sort of tiredness pulls at your eyes, and you stand up again, walking around the table. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jean. You came to me first.”

“I want you to care. I want you to come back and fight. Aren’t you remotely interested in what’s going on?”

“I know we have a train, now.” The pot begins to boil and you move towards it, taking out a tin and small metal spoon. “Historia is doing well as queen. At least, that’s what people are saying. She’s expecting. If you ever see her, tell her I’m happy for her.” Scooping leaves into the teapot, you pour the boiling water into the porcelain and let it steep. 

Turning back around, your eyebrows rise when you see Jean has walked around the table. There’s not even a metre between them as he tosses something at you. Catching it, you realize it’s a rolled up newspaper and your heart drops. At his nod, you pry it open and read the contents, fingertips brushing over two rectangular slips of paper within stating a time and terminal.

“What is this?”

“Eren’s gone to Marley by himself. Probably to do something stupid. I have two tickets to go and rescue his scrawny ass.”

“And?” Dread knots at your stomach as Jean closes his eyes, exhaling softly. Pleading, then: “Jean, don’t.”

“You’re the least compromised out of all of us. None of the volunteers would recognize you or would have been able to relay information about you if they have allies back in Marley, and despite everything, I still trust you. Which is more than I can say for Yelena and the others.” You snap the paper shut and toss it onto the table. Shaking your head to yourself, you walk away from him, but Jean only grabs your arm. “You still have a duty to our nation.”

“Don’t try to plead to my sense of national pride,” you shoot back coolly. “I have other responsibilities.”

“What, like tending to wheat?”

“Everyone wants to kill us, so yes, tending to wheat.”

“If we don’t find Eren, they will kill us. He’s our one chance of getting out of this mess alive. As crazy as he is, he’s our one ticket to freedom and we need to find him.”

Turning around to face him, you pull your arm free of his grasp. The lantern hanging is glaringly bright, and something knots in your throat at Jean’s somber expression.

“I fought for our freedom and you know what I realized? There will always be more people out there who want to take that away from us.” You wish you could sound passionate, but you just sound rough and tired. The bite tastes different. “First, it was Titans, then, it was the people we called our friends. Do you think that we’ll ever be free? That we’ll be able to live without a sword above our necks. Levi told me we’re devils in everyone else’s eyes. What’s it matter?”

“Because we aren’t what they say we are. If you lay down and show your belly, why did you become a soldier in the first place?” You jerk back and Jean leans against the table, crossing his arms. “I thought you fought for a dream. Something. Anything.”

“I thought I did, too. I’m just…” A hissing breath, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, turning away. Images of the lake back from their cadet years flash in your head. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Tired?” he repeats icily. “You think the rest of us aren’t tired? We all haven’t had the luxury to sit down on a farm and escape all our responsibilities.” 

Head snapping up, your eyes find cold brown chips staring back. Bitterly, you grit out, “Excuse me?”

“Do you think there’s a day that goes by where I think about Marco and how I wasn’t there for him? We all lost someone. You’re not the only person who’s had to go through it. We’re all guilty of something, but at least, I didn’t give up! At least, some of us decided to do something about it!”

“Shut up!” A hand flies through the air but he catches your wrist and twists, pinning you down to the table. Another hand slams your other hand into the wood and you grunt as Jean wedges himself between your legs to stop you from kicking him. Eyes burning, you stare up into the face of your friend and in that moment, the sorrow overflowing spills into your chest as if you are a well and he is the flood. 

He sinks, elbows clacking against the table as he bows his head. His breath is rushed, cool against your face, and you search his features before uttering out a quiet, “Why did you really come here, Jean?”

His eyes widening, his hands loosen. You try to suck your tears back in, but your eyes are burning so intensely you have to let them fall anyway just as there’s a sharp gasp. Jean looks up before he jerks back as if you’ve really slapped him. Sitting up, you twist to look at the doorframe, and your heart drops into your gut when you see a redheaded boy, eyes shining with tears.

“What are you doing?” he cries, and you immediately launch yourself off the table, crossing the distance towards him as Anya appears over his shoulder, helpless. The brunette girl’s guilt punches through you and you lift Xavier up into your arms, hugging him tight before wrapping another arm around the girl and poking your head into the hall. 

Alina’s figure is a mere shadow at the end of the hall, and you sigh, gesturing for her to come. Taking off at a sprint, she charges down the hall and you bury your nose in Anya’s hair just as another body slams into you, latching onto your waist. You close your eyes as Xavier tries to snuggle even deeper into your neck.

“I’m okay,” you keep repeating. “Just a heat of the moment thing. I promise, he’s not here to hurt us. I promise.”

“Are you okay?” Anya murmurs, and you look down. The eldest girl’s pulled her head back to look at you. Her eyes are narrowed, perceptive as always, and her lips are upturned into a faint scowl. You smile faintly, running a hand over her head. 

“I will be. Why don’t you take them back to your room?” you advise, and her eyes wander from you to Jean again. Catching it, you brush your thumb along her temple soothingly. “Go.” Reluctantly, she lets go of you and turns to Alina who still latches onto you like a parasite, but you rest a palm atop her head. “Alina.”

A sniff, and then she steps back, rubbing at her face. Her older sister takes her shoulders, easing her away and you crouch down as Xavier silently grabs onto your shirt tighter in his tiny fists. 

“Xavier,” you soothe. “I’ll be back in just a moment, okay?” You tilt your head. “I promise.” Wiping at his tears, you wait for him to let go of your shirt on his own accord, and when he does, you brush his hair back from his brow and plant a kiss on his forehead. Anya calls his name softly down the hall, and he lingers for a moment more before walking away, head still over his shoulder so he can watch.

You stay crouched until he’s gone and then you let out a soft exhale, head dropping, eyes closing.

“We need you more than you probably need us,” Jean acknowledges quietly, and your eyes open again to look at him. He’s straightened himself up, watching you with softer eyes. He visibly swallows, and you wonder if it’s pity or jealousy in his eyes. “But, we’re outnumbered in trusted senior officers in the Survey Corps. You’re one of them.”

Quietly: “I shouldn’t be.”

He falters for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose not.” He grabs the newspaper again. “But somehow, you are. If Captain Levi trusts you, then so do I. Bertholdt is dead. Annie’s a frozen log in a basement somewhere, and Reiner’s still alive. So are you.” He extends the paper to you. “This is what guilt got us. So what are you going to do about it?”

“Then, how about we go back to my hometown? There’s water nearby. We can go in the afternoons, eat all this food you’ve never had before.”

You haven’t seen a lake in who knows how long. Not since your cadet years, it feels like. Your heart yearns for the blue expanses, to plunge into the cold depths and gasp at how cold it is. You thought you’d given that up, but just there mere thought of it sends your mind spiralling into the images you’ve dreamed of since you were a child. 

“Regret begets regret—don’t have any when you go, and maybe you’ll live a life happier than most.”

You know you’ll never forgive yourself if you never take the chance to see him again. Heart peeling in your chest, you grab the newspaper from him.

“They call it the sea, don’t they?” you finally ask. Jean nods. “A lot of water and there’s… there’s animals in there.”

“Yeah. They live in this salty water and… they eat seafood a lot in Marley. I don’t know if you know.”

“Reiner might’ve mentioned it before,” you say. You look down at the newspaper in your tight fist and swallow. All at once, one door closes and another opens, and you look at Jean, the date and time of the ship already burned into your memory. “He said he thought I’d like it. I guess I’ll keep that in mind when we go.”

Jean’s eyes widen as you hand the paper back to him, your palm scalding as you shove the ticket into your pocket. He says your name softly, but you only hold your hand up, eyes fixed on the floor.

“I’ll meet you there, I promise.” You turn towards the shadows of the hall. In the silence of the night, you hear the hushed whispers of the children you’ve dedicated your life to and your heart disintegrates in your chest. “I just… I need some time to figure everything out.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Jean’s feet shift along the floor. You look over your shoulder for a moment to find his eyes on you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you reply. “Feel free to stay the night. It’s already late.” He nods, and you flash him the weakest smile. 

Then, you walk down the hall to your children. You have a lot of explaining to do.

.

You stubbornly try to ignore the tears tracing down your face as you reach into the compartment on your pants containing the letters. Reaching for it, you pull it out and crack it open, wondering if it’s even possible to bring yourself to read it.

“It’s not your last question,” Reiner had noted warily as they stood at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah. I guess we have to put a rain check this time.” You had set the box down, looking at him. You couldn’t recall feeling so warm, so empty. So convinced that there was something wrong with how much you still felt for him. “One more question, then?”

A nod, almost hungry for it. “Please.”

“Did you really, really love me?”

The gentlest of sighs, his warm yellow eyes. He had reached out for you, then second guessed, and reached for his breast pocket instead, extending the tin to you. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

The entire cabin is quiet as you stare at the ring nestled at the bottom, atop the stack of letters that are wrinkled and must’ve been refolded so many times it’s begun to permanently crease in multiple lines. 

No one’s dared to speak since Sasha died and you look up at the others before back down at the ring again before pinching it between your fingers and lifting it to eye level. You’re not sure what it means to hold it, but you gently close the tin with your other hand, feeling it click shut, and slide it back into your pocket.

The band is silver, rather simple, but it’s pretty, too, in a refined sort of way. There aren’t any gems, but there are simple engravings, lines that curve the metal, causing ripples along the surface and, without thinking, you stretch out your left hand in front of you, trying to gauge which one it’ll fit the best.

Sombrely, you slide it down your ring finger, and let it sit there, lowering your hands and curling them into fists and raising your shoulder, hearing a bone crack. 

You’re exhausted. 

The ODM gear feels strange on your body. It’d been a crash course to get you familiarized with the updates, and you hook a thumb on the strap on your rib cage before glancing at the others. Connie sits with Mikasa and Armin, and Jean is at the back by himself, rubbing at his face hard enough that his skin is beginning to turn red.

You don’t know what to say.

What is there to say? Four years have left you strangely numb.

Jean’s lips pull back into a vicious snarl and his head snaps up to find you looking. Then, everything seems to soften, and he looks away sharply, almost as if to hide his tears.

So you don’t say a thing. Instead, you walk on to the back of the ship, past him, where the prisoners are being held, and you open the door without a noise, first noticing the blond boy. Falco. He looks up at your entrance, eyes wide, and you give him a slight smile as you close the door.

You wish you could hate children for the part they played in killing your friend, but in this moment, you just feel nothing. Not even sadness. You had seen what Marley’s done in the friends you’ve lost.

“Hello, Falco.”

“You lied to me,” he whispers. “You and Mister Kruger—Eren,” he corrects himself. “You used me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you tell him, looking at the walls. It seems like a supply area, and you grab the bucket and rag that’s been left by whoever checked in on them last. There’s a few clean rags and you walk up to them, crouching before the blond first. He seems to flinch back and the brown-haired girl lunges at you.

You have no problem pushing her aside and pinning her down.

“Don’t touch him!” she yells. “You don’t get to touch him!”

“Calm down,” you tell her calmly. “I’m not going to hurt him, and you are in no position to be making demands at me after you killed my friend.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re a devil. So was she!” she spits as you slowly wet the rag and dab at the blood cracking underneath Falco’s nose. It’s clear whoever was here before only used the bucket and rag as a taunt. Probably telling them they could piss in here if they wanted. A coy coil of disgust wraps around your gut. “Don’t touch him. You’re tainted! You give all of us a bad name!”

Your nose wrinkles as the girl squirms under your hand and you let go of her. Cupping Falco’s face, you continue to wipe at his cheek. The water is cold. You hope it soothes what must be a flaring face.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs dully. Exhausted eyes find yours. “Why?”

“I’m sorry. I have no idea why kids are suddenly soldiers in an adult’s war.” You reach to rinse the rag. Dipping it in water, you begin to wring it out when suddenly, there’s a sharp gasp, and you turn to look at the other child—Gabi. She stares at your hands, eyes wide enough a ring of white is around her irises and you frown. “What?”

“Where did you get that ring?” she asks, voice shaking, and you look down at your hands. “That’s… that’s Reiner’s ring. Where did you get it?” You don’t answer, simply stare at her for a moment, and her breath comes out quivering. “He doesn’t let anyone know he has it. It’s for someone special. That’s—he wouldn’t even tell me. He doesn’t know I saw him with it. He… he —it’s supposed to be for someone!”

“Gabi—“ Falco grabs her arms as you regard her softly, and you have just an idea of what’s going in her head as she points at you. “Gabi, calm down—“

“Why do you have it?” she demands ferociously. “It’s not yours! Give it back!” You drop the rag back into the water, and sit back, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your arms atop of them lazily as tears begin to trace down the child’s face. “It didn’t even cost that much! You won’t be able to sell it to, you know! Give it!”

“Gabi!”

“You have no idea what that means to him!“

“Stop—“

“You spawn! You devil woman!”

“Are you done?” you ask her quietly, fingers twisting the ring and Gabi inhales raggedly as you look at her flatly. Her eyes widen even more if possible, and she allows Falco to pull her back. Her wet gasps fill the silence and you swallow, tilting your head at your hands. “If you really want to know, I don’t really have an idea why I’m wearing it.” You sigh, dropping your hands and letting your head fall forward. “As for how I got it, if you ever see Reiner again, why don’t you ask him?”

Falco’s eyes widen as you look up and finding him staring at you with a strange scrutiny, and your eyebrows furrow as he lets go of Gabi and straightens up from where he’s sitting.

“Mister Braun didn’t even hear what I said when he saw you,” he murmurs, brow furrowing. “Like he’d just seen a ghost. You and…” He struggles for words, voice unsteady. “Eren said you guys were all old friends. But… but, if he gave you the ring—“

“Shut up, Falco!” Gabi beseeches, grabbing his arm, but Falco only stares at you. “Are you even hearing what you’re saying? You’re accusing my cousin of treason! He wouldn’t!”

“He stayed with you for so long,” he continues, as if in a trance. “Even Eren wondered what was taking so long. He… called it a lover’s quarrel. You…”

“I think you two should get some rest,” you interrupt, pushing yourself to your feet and ignoring the smokey feeling clogging up your chest as tears slip down Gabi’s face and Falco’s face pales at your blatant dismissal. “It’s going to be a few hours until we land, roughly. You’ll want to get used to being somewhere warm before they transfer you to some sort of prison. It’ll be a lot colder there.”

Taking the bucket and the rag, you return it back to its spot before walking out the room and closing the door shut behind you. 

You find the spot you once were standing at now occupied with Floch and his comrades, and then you turn your head to see Jean still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, expression burning the metal floor.

You amble over to him without a word and lean in beside him, sinking to the floor.

[iovnyu]

aeipathy -- park sunghoon

PART ONE | PART TWO 

genre: ice skater! au, school boy sunghoon, fluff

warnings: cursing, tba

summary: as y/n is trying to juggle being a C student and working at a ice rink, she meets sunghoon - a figure skater with straight A’s who needs to prove his passion to his parents. they just so happened to be in each other’s lives at the right time.

a/n: hi !! this is my first one shot (?) i guess,,, so please be easy on me lol. im going to be making these in parts but i don’t know how long i want it so ig we will see!! but if u didn’t notice i am now taking requests for headcanons or oneshots so please look over the request guide here before requesting things!! also please let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this series !!

all that was heard was the crisp ice being broke in. y/n sat behind the check-in desk, on her phone playing a food game. she knew that she didn’t have to be aware of the boy on the ice since he came almost everyday to skate. 

although y/n did not know his name, she knew that he had always came at 4:45 -- right after school. he would have his duffel bag hanging off his right shoulder with his skates in his left hand, a tired smile on his face. it was always a mutual relationship, he would smile at y/n and she would smile back. 

it did bug her at times that she didn’t know his name. in her mind she called him the ice prince -- partly because he looks like a literal prince and he seemed like a pro when he stepped foot into the ice rink.

it was nearing 7 and y/n was slowly getting bored of losing her game. she had been stuck on one certain level for the longest time and could not find a way to a customer happy. 

y/n felt a sudden spark of confidence to ask the ice prince his name as he held onto the outskirts of the rink, catching his breath. getting up, she tried her best to flatten the wrinkles on her uniform that was caused by sitting in the same position for her whole shift. 

the sudden movement of y/n’s chair scooting back alarmed him. it was clear that he has never seen her move from her spot at the desk unless it was to close the rink. quickly, he skated off the rink and hopped onto the carpeted floor. 

looking up, he saw y/n walk closer to him and felt his heart beat faster. it definitely wasn’t because he thought she was pretty or anything -- he was just nervous because she looked like she was going to kick him out. y/n saw his fast movements and quicken her pace.

“i-uhm, i never got your name?” y/n blurted out as she reached him, out of breath. at times like this, she figures out why she can’t run for shit -- if she can’t even walk at a fast pace then how in the hell can she run?

looking up, he silently let out a sigh of relief. so she wasn’t trying to kick me out. 

“sunghoon. my name is sunghoon.” 

what the fuck. y/n was stunned to say the least. he had a pretty face and a pretty name?? that is a literal gift from the gods. meanwhile she is there with a boring name. y/n. out of all the names her parents could have picked, they picked y/n. 

knocking back into reality, y/n saw sunghoon looking at her. “oh, i’m sorry. what did you say?” she said, embarrassed because he basically caught her in the act of admiring him. 

“uhm. wh-what’s your name?” sunghoon asked, tilting his head in a puppy like manor. 

ohmygodgodgodoohhhhh

“y/n. it’s-it’s on my shirt” y/n looked down and moved her hair out of the way. “see!”

sunghoon nodded. he had already knew her name but he didn’t want to sound like a creep and scare her. he had been here for a long time so, it was natural for him to memorize the employees’ names. 

y/n’s had stuck with him the most. to him, it sounded unique. it rolled off the tongue in a perfect way -- almost like it was honey. 

smiling, sunghoon pointed to the rink. “so do you come here often?” 

shit shit shit of course she comes here often dumbshit-- SHE WORKS HERE

“oh! i-i mean uhm...” sunghoon said embarrassed. “you know what? i’ll see you tomorrow. sorry.” he said while quickly grabbing his bag and zoomed to the doors. 

“okay!! have a nice night!” y/n yelled to him. 

looking down, she noticed he had left something behind. bending down, she picked up a heavy book that looked like it weighed like the declaration of independence. 

flipping it over and examining it, she discovered that it was a math book with messy writing over the front cover. “park sunghoon’s math book” the pages were scattered with random doodles and formulas that looked too long to remember.

y/n looked back up to see if sunghoon was standing outside but she was met with the sun slowly setting. oh shit i need to get home 

she ran to the changing room and quickly took off her uniform and changed into the clothes she came in with. making sure everything was in her bag, she took a quick glance around the rink and behind the desk. 

well it looks ... okay

grabbing her bag, y/n looked to sunghoon’s math book. if i have time before school tomorrow, i’ll give it to him.... he probably needs it, it is exam season anyways.

she grabbed his math book and ran to the door, locking it so no annoying teenagers break in and play in the rink. it has happened before and y/n’s boss gave her a earful the next day, she was not willing to hear him yelling at her again.

y/n sped walked to her tiny honda car that she had named roxy. roxy has been there for y/n through almost all of her high school life. y/n believed that roxy was on her last straw when she broke down a few months ago, but she had managed to still work properly. i mean, she still drove properly. it is the thought that counts right?

arriving at her house she saw her mom’s car already parked in the driveway. shit i am so dead

getting out of her car, she silently prayed that her mother had just gotten home. she walked towards the door and opened the door, “hello, my beautiful mother. how has thee day been for thee highness?” 

“it’s okay, y/n. im not gonna kill you because you came home late from work.” y/n’s mom said, laughing. 

walking into the kitchen, y/n saw her packing food for the morning. “how was work?” y/n asked, grabbing chips from the snack cabinet.

“it was okay. nothing really happened. how was the ice rink?” 

“ehh, nothing special.” y/n shrugged. “i’m gonna go do homework now, please pray for me.”

“will do, honey.” her mother laughed. 

bringing her stuff to her room, she laid the math book on her desk. assuming that sunghoon probably lived somewhere near by, she began to rack her brain for any schools near by that uses the same math book. the math book looked like it was for sophisticated students. he definitely does not go to a public school

he does wear uniform when he comes in .... fuck

there was only two private schools in y/n’s neighborhood. she decided she is going to chance it and try to wake up early tomorrow to attempt finding sunghoon. why the hell am i trying so hard to give him his book....

“it’s just a damn book. it’s not like he needs it tomorrow right? wait -- he might have a math test tomorrow.... shit.” y/n said eyeing the book.

it can’t hurt to give it to him... right?

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I Want It Back

CW: References to negative stimming resulting in self-injury, description of injuries, brief reference to past noncon, trauma response, traumatic memory recovery, internalized guilt, victim-blaming, and ableism, grief, PTSD

Found Out, Akio, Chris Sees, and Tell Me Everything.

“Will you talk to me, today?” They crouch in front of him, their hair limp and badly in need of a wash, settling along the back of their neck, hanging lank over their forehead. They take his hands in theirs, rubbing at the cold, long fingers to warm them, the pale of his skin against their own deep warm brown.

He rocks, forward and back, but he doesn’t look at them. His eyes are focused off to the side, one something they can’t see, something entirely inside his own mind. 

They wait, but nothing changes.

“Okay, so no words, yet.” Laken tries for a smile, soft and loving, but it gets no reaction. “That’s okay, Chris. That’s okay. You don’t have to speak before you’re ready.”

Jake managed to even out his hair, using a tiny pair of scissors from his shaving kit to get everything about the same length, and it’s shorter than Laken has ever seen it, shorter than they ever imagined it would be. Clipped close to his scalp, only the occasional visible hint of the blue they’ve always known him with, the coppery strawberry blond makes him seem even paler, makes his green eyes more intense and saturated, fades out his eyebrows almost entirely. 

He looks alien, here, curled up in the corner of his room at Jake’s house in Jake’s big shirt and loose, long pajama pants. Without his compression shirt his arms and his neck are so bare, so vulnerable. 

Like this - lit dimly in ways that seem to bring out a glimmer from beneath his skin - Chris is an unearthly, almost eerily pretty thing, human only in the barest outline of his form, in the bandages affixed over his forehead, his neck, one on his cheek. The other scratches weren’t deep enough to need covering but they’re still red, darker and bruising, healing so slowly and standing out even more than his freckles.

Laken thinks, with a sickening twist inside of them, that they are seeing what the people who hurt him saw, once. 

A broken, beaten, frightened boy, locked up so he had no way to escape, not even from himself. They are seeing what was molded into whatever he was when he was found. They are seeing what Jake recognizes from back then, and what sets the lines of his face deeper, harsher, with an anger he doesn’t dare express where Chris can see him.

Jake is at some other safehouse right now, talking to someone else, getting all his rage out while Laken, Kauri, and Antoni take turns making sure Chris isn’t going to hurt himself again. It feels strange, surreal, a sort of at-home suicide watch only Chris isn’t trying to do that, he’s just… lost, deep inside himself, in the cycle of crying and screaming and rocking married with long periods of near perfect stillness and silence. 

The light is not total, Antoni had told them earlier, strange and enigmatic, with his own sad soft smile. They cannot truly erase us. We are only pushed beneath our surfaces.

He'll cycle for a while, Kauri had said, and he's easier for them to talk to, really. When it comes back, you either push it back down like I do, or you don't. He's not. So it's… gonna hurt. 

What's going to hurt?

Knowing. Kauri's smile had weakened, then. Knowing that they tore you apart and told you that you wanted it that way. Knowing that it wasn't always like that, and knowing that it didn't ever have to be, except for bad fucking luck.

Laken doesn't understand, not really, but they're here for him, and it's all they know how to do. 

He needs someone to put their hands between his head and the wall, to get his feather into his mouth, get his fingers on the stimming bracelets on his wrist, at last resort to give him a pillow so he can get the motions out without causing himself any physical damage. They can do that.

Laken hasn’t slept in two days, except sometimes dozing on Chris's bed, and Chris hasn’t spoken in that long except to tell them to leave, that he’s too difficult, there’s too much pain in him that Laken didn’t sign up for, and they don’t know how to tell him that they’re not scared of his pain, they’re scared of losing the chance to help him carry it.

He’s barely recognizable as the brightly shining smiling boy they met on their first day at college, but he’s still their Chris, their sunshine, their light and life and love. Going through hard shit is what you do, sometimes, and they can carry him, for a while, but he has to let them.

He has to believe that he deserves their love. 

How do you tell someone they deserve to be loved when their mind is screaming at them, louder than you could ever speak, that they are too broken, too used up, too far gone?

“Baby, I still love you,” They whisper, and lean forward, resting their temple against his. He makes a low, soft sound, wordless, but he leans into the touch. His fingers are slowly warming under theirs. “I do. You can’t make me stop loving you, nothing that happened to you is too much for me to love who you are.”

His feet lift and drop, tap on the ground. His head tilts to one side and then the other, but the hair that he used to like feeling rest against his cheekbones is gone, and there’s nothing to feel. The empty spaces in his ears where his piercings go seem strangely haunting, to Laken, now. 

Places where Chris made himself look how he wanted, removed. The hair he painstakingly dyed, gone. Giving himself back over to whatever is in his head telling him that it’s not his decision to make. 

“I’m sorry it happened this way,” They whisper to him, keeping their voice low. A bird calls outside the window, a plaintive mourning dove, coo-coo, coo, coo. “I am so, so sorry. I know that it’s hurting you, and-”

“Go, go, go away,” He says, voice flat, and their heart cracks open, spills out sadness in a waterfall, but Laken knows what it means to push down grief in their own way. They’ve seen their mother bury her parents with stoic compassion for her children’s grief even while never really showing her own. They don’t let anything out but the same love that’s been written across them from the beginning. 

He's not trying to hurt them. He's trying to hurt himself, first, before anyone else can do it again. 

He rocks, and they shift back to give him even more space for it. Despite his words, though, his hands still hold theirs, tightly, refuse to let go. He’s lying, Laken thinks, and there’s hope there. He's a terrible liar, he doesn't know how to make his body tell the same lies his mouth does.

He doesn’t really want them to go. He can say the words to shove them away but he can’t stop holding on.

“Chris-”

“You, you, you can, there’s-... there’s other people, easier, easier people than, than, than than… than-than-than, than-... silence is better than stammering-”

“No it’s not fucking not, Chris.” Laken’s voice is a firm and certain hiss, and they duck their head, catching his eyes. “It’s not. I’d rather listen to your stammer for the rest of my life than live one more day with you silent when you don’t want to be. Listen to me, okay? Please. Please listen. I don’t care about easier people.” Laken sighs, rubbing his knuckles with their thumbs, but his eyes are moving over their face, more focused than they’ve been since Jake led him out of the bathroom. “Okay? You keep saying that, that I deserve someone easier, but I don’t want anyone easier. I have my shit, too, that I carry everywhere with me.”

“Not, not, not-not like this.” His eyes are so huge, so wide, so very, very green. Glimmering with the tears he can’t stop crying, shimmering wet marks down his face over the scratches he made on himself. Making himself ugly, Jake had explained, but Chris doesn’t look ugly to Laken. 

He just looks like the same beautiful man they love, but drowning.

“No,” Laken admits, pulling his hands to their mouth, kissing lightly at his fingernails, one by one. Some of them cracked and broke while he was scratching himself, and the rough edges pull at Laken’s lips, catch on chapped places. He watches them move, his eyes finally, finally focused on them, for the first time since he saw the video. His fingers twitch, a little, against Laken’s kiss. “Not like that, no. But Chris, what you went through doesn’t make you less, baby. It just makes you stronger for surviving it.”

He shakes his head, but his hands are tightening on theirs again, refusing to let go. It’s a lifeline, a rope they can throw him, something maybe he’ll grab and let them pull him up with. Please let me help you, please want to breathe air, please let us pull you up above the water.

“I-I’ve been… taken so, so, so many times, b-by so many people, handlers, and I-I-... I didn’t, didn’t remember, and I did, but I didn’t, and I do, now, and…” Chris rocks forward one more time, his forehead landing on Laken’s shoulder, and they take the hint to slide their arms around him, hand moving up through the soft shorn hair along the nape of his neck. “I, I, I had a mom, Laken."

Laken has heard bits and pieces from Jake, now - heard what Ben has found in his own searching and his conversation with the Akio guy and his mom - but they hold still, and they’re quiet, letting his hands move over them, the familiar welcome taps of his fingers over the curve of their shoulders, down their sides, to their back where he likes to tap them the most. It’s a good sign, they think, that he’s tapping. Tapping is his good stim, his comfort stim, that means he’s coming out of himself a little, if he’s not hiding it. “Yeah,” They say softly. “I, um. Ben and I were looking for some stuff, and we found-... what we think is a news article about it?”

He nods into their shoulder, nuzzling against the crook of their neck. “I, I had a dad, and a, a, a a-a-a mom, and they-they died, b-because I moved when I was, was supposed to, to, um, to, to stay still-”

“No,” Laken protests, but he shakes his head, and they go quiet again.

“And, and, and I did gymnastics and went to, to-to-to state and re, regionals once and I was… I was, was, was okay. I think. I had had had friends. I had, had real friends. I think I, I was a good person, until I-... until I moved, and they d-died… my, my, my dad liked dinosaurs.”

“So do you,” Laken says, gently, and they feel his lips move, the hint of a smile, an attempt at one. 

“Mmhmm. He, he, he had dinosaurs he kept from, um, from when he was a kid and g-... gave them to, to to me. When, when I was six I had a-a racecar bed we got secondhand from, from, from my mom's friend and, and, and my dad bought those, um, Hot Wheels cars. We-we watched the Tour de France on, on, on TV every year. My, my mom took me everywhere. I, I remember holding her hand in, in in in parking lots. We, we, we did everything together. She, she, she said, she said… said said, y-you and me, Tris, we, we, we can do the hard shit, together.”

“Sounds like a badass mom.” Laken speaks against a closing throat, the flush of their skin, tears threatening in their eyes, too. They move back to finally sit on the floor, and Chris moves with them, keeping himself pressed against their warmth, their solidity, their beating heart, their life.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, and there’s so many layers of pain in that single simple word. “They, they, they took… they took my mom and dad a, away from, from from-from me. Out of, of my head. They, they took them and I… I didn’t-... I knew I lost, lost something, but it was like I could, um, could see the shape of them in the-the light but I couldn’t have their faces any, any… more. And I, I, I see them… now. I see-... but, but, but I have to see it all. I can't see only, only them. I, I ,I… see the bad stuff, too." His breath catches, and when he whimpers Laken is already tightening their arms around him, anticipating the sound, the shiver through his body, the grief that rocks through him like a wave crashing against a fragile shore. 

Grief is love with no place to go. When their abuela died, Laken’s mom had said that to them once or twice when they were angry-crying all over the house. They hadn’t really understood it, then, but they got it now - Chris’s whole body vibrated with the force of grief that had been pushed down, sublimated, forcibly given no firm subject to focus it on, but the love had never been gone - and neither had the grief at the loss.

Only simmering, under whatever they’d done to remove him from himself, tension building all unknowing, a volcano beneath the placid sunny surface waiting to erupt. 

“I know, know, know she loved me and I know how sh-she died and I know that it was, was my Sir who hurt me, me, me me me first, and I know how, how how how… how he, he, he hurt me, and… I can’t, can’t, can’t make it be different things. It’s… all… all one awful everything. I can’t remember one, one, one thing at a time, I keep getting-... too, too, too much.” Laken’s thumb moves over his soft short hair, rubs the wrong way to feel its slight resistance to their touch. “It’s, it’s, it’s all one hurt and it’s so-so-so… so so so, so big.”

“You don’t have to carry that hurt all by yourself, baby,” Laken murmurs. “We’ll carry it with you. Your brothers, and me. Ben wants to help. We’ll carry your hurt with you, and maybe it’s not so heavy if you share it with us?”

He shakes his head, rocking again, but it’s the gentle low rocking he does to calm himself, not the out-of-control rocking where he could hurt himself without help, so Laken just holds him and lets him rock. Short hair and scratches and pain and all, he’s still their sunshine boy.

He’s just… he just needs help to find the sun again.

“We found one of your friends,” Laken tries, and Chris goes still, then rocks again. They let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding when they feel him gripping onto his feather on his own, rubbing at the ridges of the vanes in the silicone. Controlling himself, redirecting himself, it’s all important, it’s all more ways he can throw his hand out to grab the lifeline they are desperately trying to throw him. “Akio Nakamura.”

Chris nods, in rhythm with his rocking, and whispers, “Ah, Aki. We, we, we, in the video-... we did a bunch of, of, of those. We, we did-... he, he, he was better than me, he was going to, to, to be professional, I just-... my, my, my dad thought I’d go to the Ol, Olympics but I just wanted to be moving.”

“He really misses you,” Laken says, and feels Chris pull back and away, raising his head to look at them. There’s an expression of uncertain confusion on his face, disbelief. He can’t imagine anyone wanting to remember him, they think, and that hurts. He can feel grief like a knife inside him remembering his parents, but he doesn’t think anyone ever felt that for him.

“He, he does?”

“Yeah. Ben, um… Ben went to meet with him and I guess his mom. He… he wants to see you, Chris. He misses you. Do… you want to see him?”

Chris is silent, watching them, and in the dimness of a room where they don’t dare turn on any lights, his pale skin seems to give off its own light, and underneath it all their sunshine boy is still there. Hurting, and scared, and sad, but he’s there.

“You don’t have to,” Laken says gently. “You don’t, I promise.” They take his hands again, move them to their own stomach, press his fingers there to encourage him to tap, to feel the certainty of  a warmth that isn’t going anywhere. “But he wants to. He missed you, he and his mom. They want to see that you’re okay.”

For the first time in three days, Chris smiles. It’s faint, and weak, but it’s there. “I’m, I’m, I’m not okay, though.”

“They want to see you anyway,” Laken repeats, softly. “Ben says this Akio guy was… was really broken up about not knowing you’ve been here all along. I won’t pressure you. No one will. But if you think you can… there are people who remember you, Chris, people who missed you.”

Chris swallows, nodding more to himself than to them. "People who, who, who missed Tristan Higgs."

"Tristan Higgs is you, Chris. You're the same person he was. You're both."

There’s a long pause, and Laken sees dust motes catching the light, and thinks to themself that Chris can stare at dust motes for hours on what he calls bad brain days, lost in the way he says they sparkle in sunlight. 

“Do, do do… do you think… do they know where, where, where my, my parents are?”

Laken nods, slowly. “I’m sure they do.”

He pushes himself back into the corner, but the distance isn’t there this time, and Laken feels like this isn’t retreating, but simply finding somewhere secure to think it through. “I, I, I hope I was a good, good person when I was, was Tristan. I hope I, I was… good. Like, like a nice person."

“I’m sure you were. You’ve never been anything but good, Chris. Nobody made you that way. That’s just who you are. Nothing that's ever happened to you has been able to change that."

His eyes flicker to theirs and then away, but something has shifted in his expression. Determined, not distant. A firmer set to his jaw, a flintier look in his eyes. “I, I, I remember Aki. But, but I can’t… remember him without remembering, um, without, without the guns and, and, and blood, and my Sir, and s-signing, and-... and… all, all of it. I want-... I want to, to, to have the good things all on their, their own.” 

“Give it time,” Laken says, wishing they knew that for sure, wishing they weren’t just bullshitting their way through this, wishing they knew anything about the trauma that Chris has survived. Wishing they could be anything more than just a partner, arms to hold him, a heart to love him. “It’s new, still. Give it time.”

Chris slumps back against the wall. “May, maybe. My, my, my aunt… gave me away. Because I, I, I was too hard when I was, was sad. For them. My, my, my aunt-... they, they told me when I signed, they, they said-... I remember it. I remember asking for, for, for help…” He looks down at his hands, opening them, staring at his palms. “I was, was too hard when I-I was hurting. Too, too, too angry, too bad, too much. She she said-”

“Fuck her. No, you weren’t.” Laken holds their own hands out - and this time he reaches for them on his own. They sit there, holding hands in the dark of his room. The only light comes from the sun cutting through the blinds. “You were a kid missing his parents, and if she wasn’t up to the job of being a halfway decent human being, there were other people who could have stepped up. Listen to me. You’re hurting right now, and not a single person who loves you thinks it’s too hard or too much to help you. You’re not too hard, it’s not too much, you’re our Chris and we love you. Nobody’s walking away from you now.”

He swallows, watching them.

“Chris.” Laken squeezes his hands, just a little. “We're all here. We're not going to leave you alone to hurt, you have people who will hold you through it. I love you."

He manages, one more time, the slightest smile for them. “I, I, I love you, too. I… I want you, you, you here. Please… please, please don’t-... don’t leave me.”

“Never.” They kiss his hands again, and this time he presses his knuckles into their lips, chases the reassurance in the sensation, the gentle platonic affection. “Everyone’s here for you, Chris.”

“I, I, I just want-... want someone to love me, even-... even like this,” Chris whispers, his head tilted back against the wall. Laken grabs onto the smile he still has, and holds on tight. “Even when when when I’m too hard, when, when it’s too much. Love me even when when when it hurts."

“I do, Chris. I love you, like this, like before, like any way that you are, I love you.”

They kiss every cracked fingernail, every bruised or bloodied knuckle, as they speak. He watches them, and they can feel inside themself that he’s ready to be pulled up out of himself, that for the moment he’s ready to grab the lifeline.

And the next time he drowns, they’ll be there with another one.

“I’m not leaving you, Chris.”

“Pl-please-”

“Not ever. No matter what happened or who hurt you, I’m not leaving you.”

There’s a silence, and he nudges himself back against them, eyes closed, and softly - slowly - he hums, tuneless and toneless, and Laken lets out a deep sigh of relief. Self-soothing, comforting sounds, but ones he can’t always make when he’s scared, sounds he hasn’t made in two days now. They sit with him, holding him, feeling the comfortable movements of his body trying to put itself at rest, the gentle taps, the vibration of his hum, the slight rock of him against them. 

Finally, he says, softly, “Do, do, do-do-do you remember Oliver, Oliver Branch?”

“Who?” Laken blinks, turning to look down at him, so fucking young even though he’s three years older than they are. “Wait, the, um, the… the, shit, the Governor who was on trial for trying to sell a Senate seat, right? And then he died?”

“Um. Yes.” Chris tucks his head against them, and they shiver at the brush of his soft hair over their jaw. 

“Yeah, kind of. We went to see him my freshman year, he used to host all these field trips for high schools…”

Chris swallows - the sound is audible - and then whispers, “I, I, I remember.”

“Did you go on one?”

Chris breathes, in and out, slow but not quite steady. They can feel the warmth of his breath against their skin. They run their hands over his bare arms, his arms that are never bare except when he’s sleeping, skin that feels raw, exposed, covered in scratches from his own fingernails. “I was… there.”

Laken blinks, caught off-guard, confused. They rub their thumb over the ball of his wrist, feel him shaking against them. “What?”

“Un, under his desk.” Chris swallows, eyes shut tight. “He, he, he kept me under his-his desk when the, the kids came to see him. Or, or in the hall, or… on the bed…”

“Chris, what are you-... are you saying-”

“I was-... his.” Chris licks his lips, and Laken stays very still, afraid if they move he’ll flee back to his corner, hide under the bed, disappear like dew in the sun. “The Governor’s… pet. For-... he, he, he used me for-”

“Jesus.”  Laken’s stomach flips, a drop down to their knees and back again.

“When, when you came to-to-to see…”

“Chris-... no-”

“When you came… I was, was probably… un-under his, his, his-his… his desk. He drugged-... drugged me, to, to to to to-to keep me quiet.”

Laken thinks about Chris, having a headache after a long study session, nerving himself up to take nothing more than a couple of Tylenol, the way he always hesitates before he takes his ADHD meds in the morning. Something clicks into place.

Chris’s hands twist into the fabric of their shirt, and his face reddens, fading out the freckles over the flush. The white bandage over one cheekbone suddenly seems too white, garish. “Some, sometimes he would have me-... or, he would, um, hide me. Down, down, down the hall. On his bed. Waiting for him to, to, to come back and-”

“Jesus Christ,” Laken whispers. “Jesus fucking Christ. So that night you got all fucked up because it’d been a year since your-... you called him your Sir-… died... you were talking about Governor Branch?”

He’s quiet again, for a long time. Then, as if confessing a sin, he whispers, full of shame, “Yes.”

Laken needs very badly to go throw up all the anger and disgust and loathing they feel, and worse than that – the guilt that they were maybe a few feet way and never knew there was someone who needed help. They couldn’t have known, and yet Laken felt some sense that they should have, that they should have had some sense that something was wrong, and… they didn’t.

They need to throw up, but Chris needs them to stay right here. That, they can sense – that if they walk away from him, he won’t understand that they are not disgusted with him. “Does Jake-”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Chris.” They kiss into his hair, feel the warmth of his scalp underneath. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. Te quiero, cariño. So much. I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too,” Chris murmurs, and they hold while he rocks, gently, into their solidity. “I’m, I’m, I’m… I’m-I’m sorry, too. I… I didn’t know how to, to, to… be anything but good. They, they took everything else away from me, Laken.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“They took m-my parents, and, and, and my friends, and my… my fight… away.” Chris sniffs. “They took eh-everything and, and, and it-… it-it hurts, but… but it’s coming back. It’s, it’s… it’s, it’s, it’s coming back. I, I, I want to-to-to see Akio.”

“I’ll text Ben,” Laken whispers, feeling a twinge of something like fear at the sudden burst of strength in Chris’s soft, sweet, sad voice. Not fear of him, exactly, but fear… for him. For his heart, and his head, and everything he was tearing down inside it.

And what all that darkness and weight would do to his solid, determined sunshine.

“They, they, they took my, my, my-my-my mom and dad, and, and… and Aki, and everything, and… I, I, I…” He looks up at them, then, and his eyes are bright and so, so very green, and brilliant with all the pain and courage inside him. “I want it all back.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

[mrsmaybankhere]

Lose yourself

this is the fic i was talking about and i’m quite proud of it, soo i hope you liked it as much as i do!!

i was literally crying the whole time so i’m sorry for any mistakes. it’s also huuge, over 3.5 k words so be ready for it💞

enjoy and let me know what you guys think!! love you a lot xx

Televisions didn't announced any storm coming to OBX, but as you drive your Jeep to The Cut you can clearly see clouds begin to form on the now clear blue sky. The heat was barely supportable in the last few days, but a storm or another hurricane is never a good thing. You bite on your lower lip, thinking at your friends who got lost on the ocean and are now declared dead. Today are three months since then and apparently, today is gonna be another storm. But things changed since that day.

Oh God, how much did they change...

You stop the car engine and after you jump out from the car, you take with you the few food purchases you made on your way there. You already know that the boys are out of beer and anything edible. Beside these stupid mushrooms they took a few days ago and tripped on them for almost eight hours.

You push the door of the Chateau using one arm, holding the bags with the other one and the door finally open after a few tries. There was some trash blocking it and you gulp, trying to hide your disappointment as Pope welcomes you in.

"Oy, JJ! [Y/N] is here!"He screams at your boyfriend and you nod, handing him the bags as you follow him into the kitchen. JJ murmured something you didn't understand and a few curse words. You decide to take care of this first.

"What's up?" You casually ask him and you take a look around the kitchen as you place the food and the beer into the initially very empty fridge. Damn, how did they live here?

"Not too much. JJ is rolling a blunt if you're asking."

"You look stoned." You say as you rise your eyebrow, Pope shifting uncomfortable on the kitchen old and stained countertop.

"Well maybe because I just smoked, mom?" He makes it seem like a question and you pull your lips in a line, trying to cover your sigh.

You begin to clean the kitchen, throwing every piece of trash into a big plastic bag with Pope's eyes following every step you make. He's walking on eggshells around you, wondering how much time will take you to finally explode. He expected you to do it quite sooner, but you were nothing but calm and soft towards them. Especially J.

"Kie answered." You hear his voice, now quite raspy and you turn around to look at him. He can see the sparkles of hope in your eyes and he hates to broke it for you.

"What did she said?"

"That she can't see us like she used to. And that her parents are right with whatever shits they said to her about us. That she w-..."

"I think I get it." You feel a pain in your chest at the memories of Kie being here. Of John B and Sarah being alive and you laughing and partying together. Actually being a family. Pope just nods his head, his pain bigger than yours. He didn't just lost three friends, he also lost his girlfriend. Probably his parents too.

"When was the last time you went home? Your mother is worried sick."

Pope's mother called you last night, crying and imploring you to try and talk with him. JJ moved his ass here, leaving his abusive old man and it was for the better, but Pope's parents are good people and they don't deserve all this pain. None of you did deserve it, but you all have it on your shoulders anyway.

"Can't remember." He mutters, avoiding your glare. "Last weekend I think."

"Eight days, Pope? Really?" You rising your voice a little bit, feeling like a mother and that's what exactly you were for them these three horrible months. And that's what Pope wanted so bad to avoid: your disappointed face. "Go home right now or I will kick your ass out. You have ten minutes." You demand with a stern voice and face as you walk out of the kitchen, cleaning the living room and the porch as well. John B's room remained untouched and JJ locked it with a key that he hide it God knows where. "For when he gets back" he said that day and you had a horrible feeling of deja vu.

Now you are sure that a storm is coming as full grey clouds are covering the sky and you even catched a few lightnings. By the time you were down with the cleaning, Pope walks on the porch with a backpack on his shoulder and JJ following right behind him. He's only wearing jeans, his hair a mess and his shark necklace always at his neck.

"What do you mean you leaving? I just rolled the perfect...Trust me, the perfect blunt."

You thought that you get used to something after seeing it for a thousand times, but you didn't get used to the new JJ. The heartbroken and devastated, always wasted JJ. The past three months were a hell for him and he made it even worse for you. You had to adjust to your own grief and you also had his pain on your back, carrying it with you every moment of the day and night. In the first month you couldn't sleep or eat at all as your only concern was JJ. You were scared that he may be doing something stupid or reckless and for most of the times he was. Starting fights for nothing and beating the shit out of everyone who dared to bother him. At first you also thought that Pope was gonna help you, but you were so naive. You were so blind that you didn't saw how Pope changed too, copying JJ's mechanism to numb out the pain: drugs and alcohol. But beside JJ, Pope isn't lying himself that everything is alright. Or that they will come back eventually.

"Baby! Didn't see you there. What are you doin'?" He knews that you were there, but he was too drunk and high to remember it. His arm loosely grabs your shoulders, pulling you to his side for a sloppy kiss. You can't hide your little smile because when you two kiss, you feel like your JJ is still there and times are happy again. And then when he pulls from your kiss, you have to face the cruel reality again.

"I was cleaning. The Chateau never looked this dirty before." You didn't realize it, but JJ's face fell at your words. You watch him walking away from you barefoot on the porch's floor, leaning against the supporting pillars. He turns with his back at you and Pope, lighting up the blunt and also speaking. You can see how tense his back is.

"We don't mind. We are living here..." He points a finger to Pope and himself. "Not you, [Y/N]. So you can't have a opinion."

"Pope is not living here."

"I have to head home, JJ. A storm is coming..." Pope pleads, trying to get a approbation from the blond guy.

"Yea, sure. Just go home before the rain star-..."

"Shut up, JJ." You snap at him, giving a hug to Pope before he slowly nods towards JJ who just ignored it. His bloodshot piercing blue eyes are on you, angry at you. You kept your calm for so long and for two months you were nothing but a sweet loving girlfriend to him, always down for sex, parties and even robbery. But your patience reached her limit and since then, you and JJ fight every night. And tonight isn't different.

"What's your problem?" He asks as quickly as you two remained alone.

"I think you know very well since I've told you many times now, but I'm gonna repeat myself: you are my problem, JJ. I'm tired."

You don't think that he's listening to you. He is puffing the blunt, watching outside from the door. The rain finally starts and the weather also get a little cold because of the wind.

"Come on, let's get inside." You speak and you open the door, entering into the living room, JJ following you with a growl and still smoking.

"Can't you just leave me alone for once?"

For three months he had talked to you like this. He was the old JJ only when he was inside of you or you were giving him head. You still be crying yourself to sleep every night because of this, of how powerless you are in this situation. All you can do is sit there and watch him falling apart.

But you had enough of it.

"JJ." You call his name and he turns around to look at you, you quickly grab the blunt from his hand and you throw it on the window. At least you have his attention now. But he's furious.

"What the fuck are you doing? Aren't you tired of all this fighting every damn night? Cause I am." His voice his loud and harsh, sending daggers right into your already broken heart. "You know, I left my father for a reason, [Y/N]."

"Don't...Don't you fucking say that to me! I actually give a fuck about your wasted ass!"

Well, this turned out good. Wonderful.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you acting like you are better than me? Like you are my damn mom or something."

You just wanted a calm conversation, but this is quickly turning into the same screaming match you always have. Both of you throwing the same heavy words, ending up with you crying, but still staying the night in the couch just to make sure he's okay during the night. That's how much of a pathetic you are.

"JJ, please hear me out. Let me talk. I don't wanna fight anymo-..."

"I can see that." He speaks sarcastically and you groan, still trying to keep your calm.

"JJ, look at me..." You cup his face to force him into looking right into your tired but still loving eyes. Even right now you are heartbroken for him, not for you. You gasp with tears already falling on your cheeks, knowing that what you're about to say will broke him down but you're hoping that he will wake up and finally see it for himself. "It's been three months, baby. John B is not coming back."

You can't describe what you saw inside of his eyes; something you never saw before, not in this way. The rage that's fulling his eyes is overwhelming for you and for your thin body as he grabs your shoulders, his fingers dagging into your skin as he's shacking you.

"Watch your mouth, [Y/N]. I'll say this once...And you better get it in your damn little head. Behave or leave for good."

You gulp down the words you had in your mouth, just letting him talk shit to you when you don't deserve any of it. You became his punching bag.

"You know what? Leave. I wanna be alone."

"I-I don't..." You can't talk as you feel anxiety taking control over your mind and body. Yeah, you are tired of this situation, but leaving him for good never was an option for you.

"Leave. I don't want you here. Can't you see that?"

You bite on your lower lip as you can feel how your stupid heart is ripped right from your chest, parts of it shattering your insides. You are still standing on your legs, but inside you feel like you are on your knees, screaming to make this stop. The pain is unbounded.

He turns with his back at you to grab a beer from the fridge; his hands are shacking while he tries to open it and he mutters a "fuck" under his heavy breath. When you finally find your voice again, you speak with a lower voice than what you expected.

"No. I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving you."

His back is tensed and jawline and fists clenched at the sound of your weak voice. You watch his back, not knowing what to expect from him, but you decide to keep talking. You can't make it worse than this.

Or...?

"You are the one who's always there for the ones he care about. I don't know about the others, but for me, JJ...You are my shoulder to cry on, my-...My lifebuoy. I wouldn't be here today if you weren't."

Your crying is uncontrollably at this point, making it really hard to breath properly as you feel like you're drowning in your words. You cover your mouth with your hand, a scream wanting so bad to leave your sore throat.

"So if you want to treat me like shit...If you want to get it all out on me, do it. I will let you, if that makes you feel better. If hurting me makes you feel better...I will let you, Jay. But-...But that won't bring John B and Sarah back. Nothing will bring them back, baby..."

Your voice just crack while speaking and you gulp down, biting your tongue so hard that you can feel the taste of blood in your mouth. JJ slowly turns around to look at you and your heart takes another punch as the sigh of him crying, sobbing uncontrollably with a painful smile on his lips.

"You think I don't know that, [Y/N]? Fuck...I know it, but-...But it hurts so bad. I can't help it."

"Baby..." You slowly whimper and you spreads your arms around his shacking body. His head quickly finds comfort in your neck, his tears wetting your skin as yours are wetting his hair. You let your face in his hair as you slowly fall down at the floor with his arms tight around your waist.

"I-I just can't really believe it...I'm still waiting for him to come back. But I know he won't-...They will never come back."

Fighting with JJ was horrible, but him crying like this and falling apart in your arms is something else. This is your nightmare coming out alive, destroying you bad and permanently. You didn't say anything else, you can't find words that are enough in this situation, so you stand there on the floor, his body all over yours as you run your fingers through his now damp hair, over his back, arms and face, wipping the tears away. He keep muttering things, pouring his whole heart out, but you feel like he is more talking to himself and not really to you.

"I just wanna do the right thing, [Y/N]..."

"I know. I will help you with that."

He raises his head from your chest, his beautiful eyes are now very red and puffy. You softly kiss them and the dark circles around them.

"Why are you still here? I was-...I was an asshole to you. I wanted you to leave me, so I can destroy myself without-....Without pulling you with me."

All this time you thought he didn't noticed things around him, but he did way too much. He was hurt when he saw Kie hanging with Kooks again, he was hurt to see Pope changing for bad, but he was totally broken to see you not giving a fuck about you, instead giving your entire everything for him. He thought you will leave sooner or later; he actually hoped you will. But you didn't. You stood there, losing weight and hair because of all the stress and sadness, spending nights crying and worrying for him when he was totally shitfaced and the next day you still managed to smile at him. You still had in you the power to smile.

"I won't give up on you, JJ. Never and I mean it." You are so sure of your words as you speak, locking your eyes with him while cupping his face, slowly tracing lines on his cheek. That calms him down a bit and he surprises you when he brings your hands to his lips, slowly kissing your wrists. Another tear left his eye because of how skinny you are, knowing that he is the reason. You always brought food, but he never saw you ate any.

"You're too good. You-...You know that, right? I don't deserve you. I'm so fucking sorry...For doing you like this."

"I don't care what you think. You will-....You have to get out of this black hole. I'm getting you out, baby."

Both of you are still crying, but you managed to calm down. JJ has helped you and you helped him. You two finally had ears to actually listen to each other and that bring a smile on your red damp faces.

"I love you with all I have in me." He speaks with his face hiding in your chest and you smile, kissing the top of his head and his forehead. You keep on placing kisses all over him as a reminder that you are there, still loving him.

"I know, trust me I know. I lo-..."

"You don't have to say it back. You proved it way more than I did." You bite on your lip and you pull his head up to make eye contact with him. He looks so sad and hurt. You wanted so bad to wrap him in your arms and keep him there forever, protecting him from the world and all the pain.

"But I want to say it back." You smile and you gently press a kiss on his lips, butterflies dancing around in your stomach. "I love you, JJ! I love you!"

"Say it again." He whimpers and you smile again, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips. You miss this so much.

"I love you!" This time he's the one kissing you, really soft at the started of it and then he pours his whole heart on your lips, right on that kiss that is meant to take your breath away.

You stood there in silence for another long moments, until you couldn't feel your legs and hands anymore, but you didn't wanted to bother him so you didn't moved at all. When you two finally find the strength to get up and face the world, JJ looks like he's thinking at something.

"I have an idea..."

You managed to sleep for three full hours and it was something beside the other days. You still have a painful migraine and JJ needs focus to keep himself straight on his legs, but when the sun wasn't even out yet, you two and Pope arrived at the docks.

"Kie answered?" J asks and you slowly wrap your arm around his waist and Pope shakes his head, a sad look on his sleepy face.

"I don't think she will." Pope says and you and JJ remain quiet, still hoping.

The three of you sit down on the old wood and nobody said anything. There is nothing to say as you are waiting for the sunrise. The cold wind feels right on your skin, still hot from all the crying before sleeping and the only sounds around are from the insects or birds. The blunt is now at Pope and you take it from his fingers, smoking a little before passing it to your boyfriend. Your anxiety is not as bad as before, but you still can't keep yourself calm.

Soon enough, the sun slowly starts coming out from the ocean, the sky colors quickly changing to a beautiful red and orange combination that you always loved. You look at JJ and Pope, your boy taking out the little braided basket in which you placed a picture of your friends, John B and Sarah. You remember that day; you were with the boat on a throuple date and they are smilling at each other, their eyes locked as they didn't know you were taking pictures.

"They were so in love..." A soft voice speaks from behind you and you all turn around, seeing Kie standing there with tears falling on her pink cheeks.

You bite your lip to keep your tears locked, but looking at the boys they are already crying, so you start crying too. Kie almost run into your arms, wrapping her arms around all of you and hugging you tight.

"I knew-...I knew you will be here." You talk while sobbing and JJ kiss your temple, his tears falling on your face.

"I'm sorry...I-I'm really sorry. I didn't know what to do...But I shouldn't-..."

Pope stops her by kissing her cheek and pulling her in for a hug, Kie hiding her wet face at his chest as JJ looks at all of you, his glare stopping on you as you smile at him and slowly nod your head, encouraging him to do it.

You see his Adam's apple gulping up and down as he slowly places the braided basket above the water, still holding it with his fingers so it wasn't taking away yet. You tap his shoulder to make sure he knows that you are here.

"I will never forget you." JJ speaks to the picture, your head falling on his shoulder as hot tears falls on your cheeks. "And I think I will always wait for you to come back. Maybe you will, but probably you won't. But it's okay...You did it in Pogue's style." His whole body his shacking away, crying and speaking with sobs, muttering curses under his breath because he can't hold it in. "I love you, brother. And sister."

He shows you that he needs you and your touch by how he lets his head on your chest, just like he did the night before and you start speaking, your fingers in his hair and you eyes locked with the picture.

"John B, you were the brother I never had. Fuck, you even were my father if I needed too. Remember when you and JJ took me to prom because you think that no one was good enough for me? You were probably right because-....Because you two are the best matches for me. My best friends. My-...My shoulders to cry on. And Sarah...You were the best Kook ever, sorry Kie." You all laugh a little through your tears. "It was impossible to not love you when you were so-...So supportive and loving. Fuck....I will miss you so bad, guys. Chateau...And we, we will never be the same without you, but we will keep you in our hearts forever. I love you, guys."

It's too much for your weak hearts to handle it, but somehow you managed to go through the little speeches you all gave to them. Sadly, to a photo of them.

You all get up as JJ lights up the photo and let the basket float above the water, the waves quickly taking him away from the dock. Pope pulls you to his side, JJ and Kiara doing the same as the four of you share a big group hug while watching the basket. It's now covered in flames, but still floats away on the ocean.

JJ looks up at the sky and he whispers.

"Come on, man. I know you are somewhere out here...Just come back."

"What?" You whisper back to him, not sure if he really said something or not.

"I didn't say anything." JJ smiles at you and pulls you to his chest. He wraps his arms around you and places his lips on your forehead, keeping them there a little longer. "You are my Angel, [Y/N]. Thank you."

Tag list (lmk if you wanna be added): @afterglowsb-tch13​ @alexandracheers​ @hucklebaefinn​ 

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 17 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: If you’re surprised by this surprise chapter drop you don’t really know me at all do you. I mean...THE BOY WON THE CALDER...OF COURSE THAT DESERVES A POST!!!! What better way to celebrate than with some cowboy calder cale?

Warnings: cursing, awkwardness

Word Count: 2,799

~~~~~

Stampede was by far one of your favorite parts of summertime. Calgary erupted with good food and drinks and some great music. Of course, it was the last weekend of Stampede before you were finally able to make your way downtown to enjoy it. 

Having dipped out of work early, like pretty much everyone else since it was Friday after all, you went home and changed into a pair of denim shorts, a white tank and a light flannel shirt. Throwing on your seldom worn cowboy boots and grabbing your hat, you drove into downtown near Stampede Park. 

Cale and his family were already here and you texted him to see where they wanted to meet up. Grabbing your wallet you clipped your keys onto your shorts and pocketed your phone after receiving Cale’s text in response. Finally throwing your hat on, you weaved through crowds of people after entering the park, making your way over to the location Cale had directed you to. 

Spotting Cale before the rest of his family, you made your way over wrapping him in a friendly hug. You still hadn’t told your families you were together but it had only been four days since you’d shared your first ‘I love you’s’. Cale looked sexy as fuck dressed in jeans, his own flannel and cowboy hat. 

Thankfully you were distracted when Laura came over, pulling you away from her eldest son to chat about the plans for the night and whatever else was on her mind. It wasn’t long before Cale and Taylor were both pulling you away to go ride a couple rides and you laughed as the brothers bickered over which rides you needed to go on first. It had been like this every year for as long as you could remember and the outcome was always the same. Cale would claim older brother privilege while Taylor would plead for you to take his side. 

“I’m picking the first ride.” You declared pinching both boys in the side as you turned to walk toward your favorite. 

“Wait..what...that’s not how this goes?” Taylor sputtered. 

“It is now.” You insisted as you climbed onto the first ride. Taylor was pouting but Cale just shook his head going with the decision you’d made. 

“Oh stop the pouting.” You teased, bumping your shoulder against Taylor’s as you exited the ride a few minutes later. “You’re not a kid anymore.” 

“But I’m still…”

“The baby...I know.” You said shaking your head. “Your pick bud.” You proclaimed, causing Cale to whine. 

“Just make your brother happy...you know we’ll do your ride next.” You whispered as Taylor practically ran ahead to the next ride. Cale grumbled a bit but went along and you shook your head. “I forget that I have to babysit the two of you every year.” You joked. “I thought I was done with that when you both became adults.” 

Taylor’s ride was one of Cale’s least favorites, but he went along with it anyway before quickly dragging both of you to his choice after. By the time you finished that and the one ride all three of you agreed on, both of their stomachs were growling loudly. 

“Okay boys...let’s go find mom and dad.” You declared. The words had slid from your mouth without a second thought and while Cale didn’t seem to notice them either, Taylor did a double take as he raced to catch back up. 

The five of you got dinner at one of the many food stands before settling in at a picnic table to eat. Conversation flowed easily, you truly felt like a part of this family and that was even without considering your new relationship with Cale. Though a tiny part of you was worried about what his family would think...what your family would think...you felt confident that nothing was really going to change. You fit here and your relationship with Cale could only improve that. 

After dinner, you all started walking around, stopping at various vendor tents, killing time before heading over to the Nashville North stage for the nightly concert. 

“We’re going to go get drinks...why don’t you and Cale head to grab spots?” Laura declared. As Cale’s family walked in the other direction, you looked over at Cale. He really looked so fucking handsome and you couldn’t help but slip your hat off as you took a step closer to him, pressing up for a kiss. You’d been wanting to kiss him all afternoon but had refrained...now you couldn’t help yourself any longer. Cale’s hand slid into the curve of your back as he kissed you again, neither of you noticing that Laura had doubled back toward you, the question about whether you wanted a certain type of cider falling off as she witnessed you locking lips with her son.

“Are you two kidding me??” She practically shrieked, her eyes wide. His mother’s voice drew Cale’s attention and he pulled back from the kiss like he’d been shocked. It took another second for her voice to register in your ears as well but once it had you turned around, your stomach twisting violently. 

This was NOT how you planned to tell your families. 

Cale’s thumb rubbed circles against your back and though his cheeks were red, he still radiated an air of confidence as he looked over at Laura who had hardly moved. 

“What did you need mom?” He questioned, flipping the subject on its head away from the embarrassment flooding your cheeks. Laura repeated her question about the cider and when no response fell from your lips, Cale answered for you. 

“We’re going to talk about this later.” Laura mumbled as she looked between the two of you again. 

“Sure mom.” Cale agreed, his lips grazing against the top of your head. As she walked away, you turned in Cale’s arms, burying your head against his chest. “Well I don’t think that was what we had in mind.” He chuckled. 

“I blame the damn cowboy hat.” You mumbled, your words pulling a full laugh from Cale’s body. “Fuck.” You added, groaning softly. 

“It’s fine Y/N.” Cale insisted. “You know my parents love you. Yeah mom is a little shocked but it’s all gonna be fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Cale...your mom just saw me with your tongue down my throat…” You whined. 

“And she’s probably planning at least the engagement party if not the wedding…” Cale teased. “Hey…” He soothed. “I love you okay. Take a breath.” His arms tightened around you in a full hug and he pressed soft kisses along your head. “So our timing still sucks...but bright side…at least now we don’t have to figure out how to tell them.” 

Though you still weren’t fully composed, you let Cale pull you to the concert venue, where he pulled you back into his chest, his hands falling to your hips. When his family joined you it wasn’t clear whether Laura had said anything to Gary and Taylor or not. No one said anything about it at least, and you took the glass Taylor handed you, eagerly taking a large sip. 

Thankfully the band tonight was a good one and you were able to lose yourself in the music. The alcohol in the cider and the heat from Cale’s palm also helped ground you letting you enjoy yourself until the band packed up for the night and it was time to head home. 

“I’ll ride with Y/N and we’ll meet you back at the house.” Cale declared. Laura looked like she wanted to protest but a look from Gary silenced her and they headed off with Taylor in the direction of their car while Cale followed you to yours. “Want me to drive?” He inquired. “Or are you good?” 

Without hesitation you tossed him your keys, sliding into the passenger seat as anxiety crept back up on you. 

“Sweetheart...you gotta breathe.” Cale urged, his hand squeezing your own as he navigated through traffic. “I know you’re embarrassed but...you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be and I’m starting to think you’re not just embarrassed about the timing but about me.” 

Cale’s confession was vulnerable and you cursed silently, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. 

“You know that’s not it right? I love you. I just…” Every thought that had been racing through your head since you heard Laura’s voice now seemed utterly foolish and hurtful framed by Cale’s thoughts. 

“You’re right. We have nothing...or at least very little...to be embarrassed about.” You breathed. “I’m sorry for hurting you. That wasn’t my intention.” 

“I know it wasn’t.” Cale spoke softly. Regret sat uncomfortably in your stomach for the rest of the drive and once Cale put the car in park, you immediately unbuckled before racing around to his side. 

“I love you. I could never be embarrassed about being with you.” You whispered, pulling him into a soft but deep kiss. The sound of car doors slamming caused Cale to pull away and you looked up to find his family walking up the driveway behind you. “Let’s go share all the good news.” You murmured, your hand trailing down Cale’s chest gently until that smile you loved so much had returned to his face. 

“Yeah...let’s.” He agreed, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you headed into the house. 

Cale’s family was waiting for you in the kitchen and though the weight of their gazes on you almost felt like an interrogation, you moved to grab bottles of water for you and Cale before settling onto a bar stool as Cale moved to stand behind you. 

It seemed like no one wanted to be the first to speak, but eventually it was Taylor who broke the silence. 

“Now the king size bed makes more sense.” His mumble made your jaw drop and you felt Cale fighting back a laugh. Seeing both your expressions and the looks of confusion on his parents’ faces Taylor continued. “What? She put a double bed in the master when she moved in and then swapped it with a king a week later...that made no sense. Now it does.” 

“Have you two been together this whole time?” Laura questioned, hurt flickering over her face. 

“If you mean since mid-May...yeah.” You admitted softly. 

“Two months...you’ve been together almost two months...and you didn’t think to tell us? Why?” Reaching across the island, you rested your hand over hers hoping that she wouldn’t pull away. 

“We kinda just wanted to feel it all out for ourselves first.”

“I didn’t want to have to answer a million questions when I went to see her.” You and Cale answered at the same time, though his answer was far more blunt than yours. 

“We were getting ready to tell you…” You sighed. “Just not like that.” 

“You mean I wasn’t supposed to find out by catching the two of you making out?” Laura teased, the mood in the room lightening significantly. 

“Apparently that was the cowboy hat’s fault.” Cale ribbed you to his whole family, his hands rubbing over your shoulders. 

“Throw me under the bus why don’t you.” You sassed back, sticking your tongue out at him as you tipped your head back. Cale pressed a quick kiss to your lips before you lowered your head and you smiled, heat rising in your cheeks. 

“How did this even happen?” Gary finally chimed in. “I mean I know your mother has been hoping for it for years but…” 

Though you left out quite a few details, you explained to Cale’s family how you’d realized something was there back in Denver but how you’d both waited until he came home before deciding to actually give it a shot. Taylor didn’t seem super interested and after giving you a quick hug and sharing a look with Cale he mumbled that he was going upstairs. 

“So when I suggested you take her to Iceland with you?” Laura mentioned, refocusing the conversation after Taylor’s disappearance. 

“I was already planning on asking.” Cale stated. Watching the two of you for a moment - the way you looked at each other, how your bodies reacted to each other - her eyes suddenly went wide. 

“There are more pictures aren’t there?” She gasped.

“Yeah there are more.” You nodded, taking Cale’s phone as he dropped it into your hands so that you could pull up the album. Sliding the phone across the island, you watched as Gary and Laura scrolled through them for a few minutes. When she looked up, tears were in her eyes and you couldn’t help but slide off of your stool to round the island. 

With your arms wrapped around her tightly, you felt your heart swell. 

“This is serious?” She whispered. Nodding, you smiled. 

“As serious as it gets.” You agreed. “We don’t know what the future holds...but we plan on finding out together.” A glance over at Cale almost made you cry because you could see in his eyes how much he enjoyed seeing you like this with his mom. 

“I already told her I love her.” Cale admitted. 

“No…” Laura gasped, the excitement on her face growing. 

“Yeah mom...we’ve said I love you.” You said. Laura’s face froze for a moment before she blinked quickly. 

“You just called me mom…” Though her words expressed shock, her face was hopeful and though you hadn’t even realized the implications of your word choice, you shrugged. 

“In love with your son or not...you’ve always been my second mom.” You insisted. “I guess I never realized that I hadn’t called you that before.” 

“I’d love for you to call me mom.” Laura promised. “You’ve always been my daughter but maybe my son will finally make it official.” Cale’s face was a mix of ‘don’t look at me’ and ‘you can bet on it’ and you sent him a smile. 

“There’s no rush on that. Right now we just want to enjoy the summer. Enjoy each other. We’ll take things a step at a time from there.” You assuaged her. 

“You don’t know how happy I am right now.” Laura nearly squealed. “Still a little shocked but so happy.” Hugging her again, you watched as she moved to hug Cale as well, leaning up to whisper in his ear causing his cheeks to flush. 

“You’ve always made him a better person.” Gary’s voice floated quietly to your ears. “He’s scored way outta his league with you.” 

“I don’t know about that.” You denied, stepping into Gary’s open arms. “Is it cool if I call you dad?” You whispered, hesitantly. 

“Of course it is.” He quickly agreed. “You are our daughter after all.”

Pulling back, you let out a yawn. “Cale...why don’t you take your girl home.” Gary instructed. 

Promising Laura that you would tell your own parents over the weekend, you eventually made your way out the door with Cale. You felt like you were about to burst from the love and acceptance you felt and you couldn’t help but kiss Cale as he moved to open your car door for you. 

“I told you it would be fine.” Cale murmured. 

“Don’t get used to always being right.” You warned jokingly. 

Cale’s hand fell to your thigh on the short ride home and you just watched him as he drove, your brain replaying tonight’s conversations in your head. 

It wasn’t until you climbed out of your car that you spoke again. 

“So do you think dad told you to bring me home so that you didn’t have to be pestered by mom all night?” 

“Maybe...either way I’m not complaining.” Cale smirked, unlocking your front door, holding it open for you. Kicking off your boots, you started down the hall toward the bedroom. Undressing in silence, you fell into bed beside Cale. You didn’t have to sleep alone tonight and that was honestly the best part of all of this. 

“I love you calling my parents mom and dad.” He whispered as your bodies curled together. “I never really thought about that aspect of things but you having that close of a relationship with them just makes me fall even more in love with you.” 

“I love them. Almost as much as I love you.” Your soft chirp turned to a shriek as Cale tickled you before pressing his lips to yours. The heat behind the kiss was minimal, enough to turn it into a make-out session but not enough to push it into anything more. Instead you just shared lazy kisses until you were practically falling asleep. 

And wrapped in Cale’s arms you slept soundly for the first time in two weeks. 

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x Reader) Intro

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

intro | the unexpected  ↪

Everybody loves the things you do.

You can't exactly recall the moment that everything seemed to change or rather, fall apart. Well, if you were going to be honest, you expected everything to fall apart sooner rather than later but there you were, watching him get cheered on in the middle of the school grounds of Inarizaki High. Why? Well, the girl he apparently had a crush on had been eating out his face as if her life depended on it. It crushed you.

What did you expect? The two of you were never official, nor did he ever hinted at the idea of the two of you becoming official. This is what you should have expected, right? He was never yours, to begin with, you were just a friend he occasionally fucked with on the side to relieve his stress, no big deal.

So, why had the scene in front of you, broke your heart?

Right, maybe because of the fact that your best friend since you were eight years old, Miya Atsumu, has owned your heart for as long as you can remember.

  Everybody here is watching you.

You watched as the two broke apart, with eat-shitting grins plastering their perfectly shaped faces. The cheers that erupted within the vicinity were almost deafening. What hurts the most was that your best friend, your little 'ol fuck buddy, searched the crowd and his eyes locked with your own. There wasn't any sign of regret, it was as if he was silently communicating with you to accept that whatever the two of you had in secret, would inevitably end, however, you pretty much puzzled that out already, the sight you had witnessed indicated the obvious, you didn’t need it to be spelt out for you. It took every bit of you not to spin around and walk away from the man that had broken your heart into bits and pieces, but the friend in you couldn't seem to do such a thing, instead, you tried your best to flash him an encouraging smile.

Yes, Miya Atsumu had broken your little pathetic heart.

You're like a dream come true.

You recalled the first time you had met Miya Atsumu. You had just moved in next door from Kanagawa. You had been dejected of the move, reluctant to help your parents settle down. You had been forced to leave your friends and every little thing that mattered to you. Honestly, you were ridiculous at the time. You were practically eight years old, and you were already moaning about how your life had already ended for leaving your friends behind.

That is until the Miya Atsumu introduced himself to you with his cheeky little smile.

"Hi!" he greeted in a yell like manner causing you to shriek and spin around to face the intruder, warmth spreading across your cheeks in embarrassment, "My mom told me we have new neighbours and to bring this over. I'm Miya Atsumu, but you can call me Atsumu because it might confuse you since I have a twin. His name's Osamu!"

You flickered your gaze shyly over to the identical boy standing beside him looking uninterested. He sighed, "I can introduce myself you know,"

The boy you have come to know as Atsumu ignored his retort before handing over the small tray in his hands, "It's my mom's speciality, beef stew. It's one of my favourites. Oh by the way, what's your name?"

You blinked as you slowly grabbed the tray from his grasp as you mumbled your name underneath your breath. You felt your cheeks grow warmer as he repeated your name with a wide grin plastered on his face.

You didn't even know what was so memorable of how you met the Miya twins, or more importantly, how you met the rather annoying Atsumu, that you had somehow miraculously learned what the word 'crush' meant. It wasn't as if it was the first time you had been friends with the opposite sex. Before moving to Hyōgo, majority of your friends from elementary school in Kanagawa were boys, so how did you end up liking the now blonde twin?

It was life's many mysteries. However, what you had witnessed made you wish that you had fallen for the other twin instead, who had been looking at you with sympathy in his eyes as soon as he spotted you. You simply shook your head, smiling sadly. Osamu, bless the caring twin, had always known of your feelings for his brother and somehow figured out the arrangement the two of you shared upon entering Second Year in Senior High School. He expressed a few times for you to reveal your feelings, but you pushed it to the very back of your mind. You didn't know if Atsumu was completely oblivious to your blunt feelings or that he probably lacked some very important brain cells. You had thought he just didn't want to acknowledge it and pushed it aside, but what had pushed the two of you to have such an arrangement in the first place?

You somehow wished it never happened in the first place.

You look like a movie, You sound like a song.

Warmth.

It was the only word in your intoxicated mind that you could find during the first time his lips wandered delicately across your skin as if it were a map, the way his lips brushed against your skin marked that he had successfully visited places that night. You didn't know how two friends who were teasing each other about how the other hadn't been intimate with their past lovers escalated into that, but the passion burning through you at the time, feeling his hands and lips against places that were supposed to be forbidden for a man that you shared no intimate relationship with were enough to fight back the protests that were bubbling in your mind. It was intoxicating. It was warm. It was Atsumu.

If you were to lose your virginity, who would be better than your best friend himself, right? Wrong.

When you think about it, despite the lovely idea of losing each other's virginity to each other as best friends, it was only because you had been madly in love with Atsumu, thinking that when it was over, he would finally man up and take a step forward with whatever the two of you had, and the two of you were to be finally happy together. Of course, your love for your best friend won over and you were forced to accept your faith that it meant little to him than it did to you.

Despite Atsumu not returning your feelings after the whole thing, you tried your best to put on a smile and be there for your friend, no matter how painful it was. You hadn't expected it of course, when a particularly stressful day for Atsumu would lead to the arrangement of you being the one to release his stress during your second years. You kept your feelings locked away in a chest and hid the key, you didn't want to complain.

Fear had crept its way into the very front of your mind, constantly eating you out, day and night. To complain and push Atsumu away to put your feelings first, only meant you'd lose him. It was inevitable, you decided then. The two of you shared such intimacy more ways than one and somehow reverting it to the way it was before deemed impossible.

You couldn't bear the thought of losing Atsumu. Not as a secret lover, but as a best friend. You didn't want to admit it, but he was the only one you had left. Sure you had other friends, but Atsumu was your partner in crime. From the moment you met him, to before the two of you shared such reckless intimacy, he had been your rock. Sure, there were things you weren't willing to confide with him due to personal reasons, but he was there. Ever since your father had passed away, things were rocky with your mother. Your relationship with your mother had worsened throughout the years after your father's passing, and not even Atsumu knows the extent of it. You couldn't bring yourself to express such, you didn't want anyone's pity. You just needed Atsumu's warmth, whether it was intimate or not.

You can't help but admit at how pathetic you've become for someone who didn't reciprocate such feelings, but what were you to do?

Let me photograph you in this light, in case it is the last time.

As you stood there, you felt hopeless. It seemed as if the cheers surrounding you failed to cease. It was as if it grew louder, almost taunting you.

You didn't want to ruin the moment though. They seemed perfect for each other, too perfect together. Happy in their little world with their friends surrounding them—cheering, congratulating, teasing the new happy couple, and you stood there, outside of their inner circle, pathetically. You kept your gaze on Atsumu as if to devour his features, afraid that your mind might have suddenly decided to erase him.

You caught Osamu from the corner of your eye, his twitching not so subtle. His body language screamed of wanting to comfort you but all you could do was shake your head to prevent such action. You didn't want to feel any more pathetic than you already did.

After another painful second to capture his features, you spun around facing the school's gate, heart-clenching as tears now slowly formed in the corners of your eyes. You wanted to scream. You wanted to break down there and then. You felt sick.

"Hey!" You heard him call out and you didn't think your heart could handle another but it felt as if he squeezed your heart once again, "Where you going? We have class soon."

You swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of your throat, your shoulders grew tense at the feeling of his close proximity. His familiar scent instantly engulfed you but what bothered you the most that it was mixed with a scent you're unfamiliar with. You didn't have to turn to look for its identity, you knew she was standing next to him, clung to his arm as if her life depended on it, afraid Atsumu would be snatched away from her. You couldn’t blame her, you would have done the same if you could. "I–I don't feel so good. I'm going to skip." You stuttered, letting out a laugh to cover up your constricted voice.

"Oh. Well," you heard her speak as if she was part of the conversation, "Let's leave her be, 'sumu."

He agreed almost instantly, "Right. You get home safe, yeah? Get better soon."

You heard their footsteps retreat and your heart taking a final blow and completely shattering to the ground. He didn't even bother to wait for a reply. Without looking back, you left the school premises. You left without saying goodbye.

It was just like a movie. It was just like a song.

The nauseating air wrapped tightly around you, almost making it difficult to breathe. When you had walked home, you let the tears flow almost instantly, not bothering to give an ounce of attention to the people who had looked towards your direction in pity or as if you had grown two heads the past hour. You were grateful that your mother and her new boyfriend had not been around at the time of your early return, not like she would care for your tears or how you had skipped school.

It was now or never, you had thought to yourself as you stared at the packed luggage on your bed. Earlier during the day, you hadn't exactly planned this. Running away from your problems seemed almost too cliche for you at the time. Scared to the bone, you still opted to approach your best friend about your predicament. However, as you entered the school grounds, well—it was obviously a sight you were not exactly expecting nor was it pleasant for you to witness, something you wish that could be erased from your mind completely.

The idea spilling the truth to Atsumu had been instantly tossed to the nearest bin. You didn't know if it was just your emotions deciding but you knew it was for the best. You couldn't stay here. Not anymore. Your mother would most certainly throw you out as soon as she had found out, not like it had been home to you in a long time.

So as you entered the empty house you once thought that radiated comfort and warmth, you decided it was best to disappear. A lot of factors that resulted in this decision piled up one by one as soon as you woke up for the day. And what was the root of it all?

Two pink lines.

That was six years ago.

[loverdrew]

You Found Me 2 | J.M

Summary: John B and Sarah Cameron are lost in the Bajamas, the pogues are having a hard time living life as normal, the Outer Banks have never been so quiet. But someone new comes into town looking for some answers, and a new life that she never imagined.

Warnings: some angst, some bullying, sexual assault

Part 1 Here

Into the night, we ended up at the boneyard, the groups main hangout spot, with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Every time I exhaled the smoke it instantly calmed my muscles and made my body feel like jello, my mind relaxing in the cold air of the beach. A bonfire was illuminating our bodies enough to keep us warm, but I still rubbed my arms and legs that would fill up with goosebumps. 

Kiara and Pope eventually went down by the water to splash in it for a while. I found out one of Kiara’s favorite feelings in the world is the 50 degree ocean water wiggling between her toes and hitting her ankles, while the sand kept her grounded. She would do it even in the winter. And of course Pope went with her, he would give anything for a moment alone with her. JJ and I stayed back, both on our second beers and a high filling our bodies. I kept bobbing my head to an imaginary song in my head, while his eyes scanned me up and down, wondering so much about the life I had before the Outer Banks. I had no intention of telling him any time soon.

“If you keep looking at me I might kiss you.” I joked, taking another sip of beer.

“That wouldn’t be so horrible.” He smirked. “C’mon Y/N, give me something, a last name, your first pet, parents and siblings names! Just something!” I swallowed hard at the last one, painful feelings clouding my mind.

“JJ, you’ll find out all of that eventually, so quit it-”

“No please, I just want to know more about you, I don’t know there’s just something so interesting about you.” He scooted closer to me.

“You don’t know anything about me.” I stared into the sea where Kie and Pope played, not a care in the world. JJ sighed and leaned back on a log, ruffling through his hair. I took a breathe, feeling defeated.

“My moms name is June, my dads name is Eric.” I spoke, a little above a whisper. JJ’s ears perked up, leaning a little more into me. “They’re back in New York where I’m from. The upper east side to be exact.”

“Whoa whoa whoa wait! You left the richest part of New York to come to a shithole like this? Why!” He exclaimed. I tried to shush him so Kie and Pope wouldn’t hear.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand. Just because you have money doesn’t mean life is perfect, I never fit in, I needed to get away. So, naturally, I left.” 

“So you’re just like Kie. You’re a fucking Kook!” He laughed, pushing me slightly jokingly. I laughed too, looking down at our forearms that were too incredibly close for comfort. A shakey breathe fell from my lips, not daring to move. His touch instantly made goosebumps appear on my arms and made my hearts thump against my chest. He looked back up at me, a slight smile on his lips. He kept his arm next to mine, moving against my own as a sign of comfort, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Just so you know, my family life isn’t perfect either. This cut on lip-” he points to his mouth with his other hand, “not from a fight with another guy, but a fight with my dad.” I turn more towards him to look into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry JJ, nobody should go through that ever. I wish there was more I could do to help your situation, but I know it’s never enough.”

“Hey, hey it’s okay. My friends help me get away from those feelings by distracting me, taking me out everyday to remind me at least they care for me and would never hurt me. So, that’s what you can do for me. That’s what you’re doing right now.” He’s looking down at me now, our eyes never leaving each others.

“What about those other girls? The ones you fuck around with for a day-”

“They help for a moment, but then it doesn’t matter. I actually feel kind of shitty after, makes me feel worse, but you didn’t hear that from me.” We both laughed together again, our arms fully engulfed in each other. 

“Secrets safe with me Maybank, but now I feel bad for every girl from this moment on.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, trust me.” He rubbed my arms, his hand stopping at my hand. His pinky toying with mine then using his pointer finger to draw circles on my palm, tickling me in the best way. Just as we were locking eyes, a few male voices could be heard from down the beach. The same 3 boys from The Wreck were slowly coming up on us, sounding obviously drunk. They were loud and kept pushing each other while laughing. JJ stands up and moves in front of me, Kie and Pope coming back up from the water noticing the 3.

“What are you guys doing here, this isn’t even your side of the island.” JJ said with confidence, muscles veins popping out from his biceps. I could tell his hands were hurting as they formed into fists, so I stood up and lightly placed my hand over his, trying to get him to soften them.

“Shit JJ, you forget we still run this place, oh shit-” Rafe eyes me, coming around to stand in front of me. “It’s little miss new girl.” He was getting uncomfortably close that I backed up too far and accidentally burnt the back of my legs. I jumped forward falling into his arms. He pushed JJ back with much force, giving him a mean glare.

“C’mon girl, you’re too pretty to be hanging out with these pogues. Come to our side, I’ll show you a good time.” He moved a peace of hair from my face, sending a shiver down my body, signaling that I was in danger.

“Guys don’t do this, let’s just leave and now cause trouble.” Topper tried to intervene, backing away from the situation.

Rafe again tried to grab ahold of my waist, and without even blinking I took my free hand and smacked him across the face, a long sound emulating from the quiet beach. Everyone went silent and Rafe whipped his head back to me, his face turning red.

“Get off of me.” I said through gritted teeth, pulling away from him.

“You little fucking bitch. You think just because you’re new here that you can do whatever you want, well face it, you’re just a nobody that has no one there for them, that’s why you came on this island alone right?” He stared me down, a smirk dancing on his lips. 

“Please, Rafe just go fucking home! Leave her alone!” Kie yells.

“No, she started a war. So I’m going to tell her the truth. Nobody wanted her, nobody cared for her, she was someone else’s trash that was dumped here.” I could feel the tears burning in my waterline, but I wouldn’t give Rafe that satisfaction.

“She’s another let down that is going to die alone and by herself because she’s all by herself, and guess what when you’re gone, no one will even remember your fucking face!” And that’s when I heard a loud pop and before any of us could even wince, Rafe’s nose was bleeding, and gushing in a matter of seconds. JJ’s fish falls to his side squaring up to him, an unapologetic look graced on his face. I took this time to start to walk away and eventually run away back towards John B’s house, trying to flee the scene. I could hear screaming between the two boys get louder and my chest started heaving.

Hearing everything Rafe said about me brought back unresolved feelings about myself and my own family. I left New York because I didn’t belong, I left the Outer Banks but not by my own choice. I felt like I didn’t have a place for myself anywhere, nowhere wanted me. People weren’t permanent in my life. Friends went and gone, leaving me alone always. I never had someone to call my own, that was all mine. Tears were filling my cheeks, blinding my vision as I stopped and leaned over my knees taking in deep breathes.

“Y/N!” I heard Topper’s voice getting closer.

“No please, stop. Don’t-don’t come any closer to me.” I turned back around to see him, confusion written all over him.

“I-I seriously don’t know what happened back there and why he said all that Y/N believe me I wasn’t in on that, that wasn’t suppose to happen!” He tried to reason with me, stretching out his arms towards me.

“No, Topper you guys are all the same! I’ve dealt with guys like you and I’m not getting roped into that again. I don’t know what I did my first day here to be treated like this!” He genuinely seemed sorry, but with guys like him, they know how to manipulate. I just couldn’t trust him, not like I instantly trusted JJ.

“I’m nothing like him please believe me, yea I was back then but after Sarah and John B I really tried to change!”

“People like you don’t change!”

“Please believe me, Rafe is just on edge I mean his sister could be dead at sea, his dad is in fucking jail he doesn’t have a mom there for him he’s just in a tough spot. He lost his whole family pretty much!” 

I didn’t even have time to register what was I going to say next, but it just came out.

“John B is my brother!” Topper’s eyes go wide, almost not believing me at first. I was sick of being told I didn’t have a right to be sad or mad about his disappearance, but when I heard about it back in New York it broke me more than anything. I had been keeping up with him via Sheriff Peterkin, but once she passed away things stopped. I had to find out more, and then the news came out about him being a murderer and I just didn’t believe it. I booked a ticket to here as soon as I could get things together. Completely leaving behind school, my adoptive parents, and everything I ever had. I had to find my brother.

“He didn’t just lose someone Topper I lost the only real family I have! I came here to find John B and this is what I get! Rafe was right, I was never wanted that’s why I was put up for adoption and why my life in New York never worked out. I am a nobody! But I at least thought John B would accept me since I am his only family left.” Topper came up to me but didn’t dare to touch me. He was searching my face for any indication of lying, but he couldn’t find any. His face softened, sympathy filling his heart.

“You know I have to technically hate him because of what he did to me, but just for you, I hope he’s found alive.” As he finished his sentence, he ran back to the group, pulling both Rafe and Kelce by the collars of their shirts. Pope was holding back JJ as he was lunging towards the group. Once they were gone, I slowly walked back to them 3, arms held loosely across my chest. JJ ran up to me, his hand caressing my face. I looked up and saw only one bruise on his right cheekbone.

“Hey, hey did he try to do something to you, I wanted to go after both of them but you know, I’m only one man.” He slightly laughed, eyes wondering mine to find his answers.

“I’m fine, I promise, thank you, all of you, you didn’t have to defend me, you’ve only known me for a day really.” I looked sadly at all of them. Pope rubbed my back, while Kie pushed JJ aside and gave me a big much needed hug. 

“You’re one of us now, we’ll always be there for you.” She said into my ear. I knew I couldn’t live with the fact that I was keeping the biggest secret from them, seeing all they’ve done for me thus far. I let her go and we walked back to the house, laughing about how badass JJ was for taking on both Kelce and Rafe.

As we entered the house those damn pictures of John B on the wall I swear were talking to me. I could hear them saying tell them, they wouldn’t be mad at you for keeping it from them. That maybe they can help you and have even more of an incentive to find John B and Sarah. My finger grazed over the frame, the group stopping to watch me, trying to pull me into the kitchen to eat some dinner. 

“Y/N what’s wrong?” Pope asked, as I began to cry again.

“I have to tell you guys something...”

I told them everything. 

From what I knew from Peterkin, our mom and dad could barely take care of John B as a baby, and suddenly fell pregnant with me. They decided to keep the pregnancy but after looking at finances, they both agreed adoption was best for me. They didn’t tell him he was having a sibling, and as soon as I was brought into the house, I was taken out.

In New York, I was a social-lite to say the least. My dad was a well respected author, my mom a plastic surgeon. Both had some kind of fame associated with them. My mom couldn’t have children, so she adopted me and raised me since I was a little less than a year old. They gave me everything. I went to private schools my whole life, was a cheerleader, was in yearbook committee, even up for prom queen. I had a lavish car, phone, and my room was 2 stories. I ate with celebrities at the best restaurants. I had gotten everything I had ever wanted, but it wasn’t what made me happy. 

Soon my parents started fighting about my college plans, they were deciding my life for me. They were even trying to choose a guy for me to date. My dad started to drink a little more than usual, and soon would call me an ungrateful bitch that didn’t deserve anything I had been given. I would cry myself to sleep every night. 

I had one boyfriend, but he didn’t last. He was nice, handsome, a football player on the road to play for Notre Dame. One night at a party he got too drunk, and started touching me after I said no. I was getting sleepy, falling onto a nearby couch, but not even a few seconds later I felt hands under my dress. I never like talking about it, but I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I started to blame myself for it. People at school called me the new prude turned whore, and I got made fun of for being so drunk and out of it that someone assaulted me. I refused to go to school for days.

It all got too much, so I packed a bag behind my parents back, left my phone, and only took about 50$ out of my wallet that could help me for a few days. I honestly didn’t have a plan, but I knew I wanted to come here, find out where I really came from, and discover it myself. Do something for me, for once.

Kie started hugging me even harder, some part of her thinking she was hugging John B again. Pope’s head hung low, still taking in the fact that John B had a full blood sibling. And JJ walked outside, pacing on the back porch.

“Talk to him, I think he’s just trying to processing everything. John B was like his brother.” Kie told me with a slight smile. I squeezed her side, opening the back door with a squeak.

“JJ...” He didn’t dare look at me. His hands rest on the railing overlooking the dark night. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it. You have his nose and smile.” He slowly faced me, looking at exactly that, the porch light shine bright on my face. “You’re really his sister. I can’t believe I’m really meeting you.” Quickly, his arms engulfed me, my head falling at his chin, his lips right at my hair line. I hugged him back even tighter. I began to stain his shirt with my tears that just couldn’t stop flowing. The overwhelming support from everyone made my heart swell.

He pulls away only to look at me. I could feel his fingers once again moving up and down my sides, the tingling energy between both of us building. His face turned serious and he began nodding at his own thoughts. 

“We’re going to find him Y/N, I promise you.”

Tag List

@paaaam97​ @pink-meringues​ @5am-cigarette​ @prejudic3​

[witchofrvnswood]

awwp rant pt. 2: the characters!

oh boy we’re finally back with part 2! 

so in part 1, i discussed plot points that i found troubling and nonsensical. this time, i’m talking about the characters and how they each pissed me off <3

note: am only doing the ones i have beef with, everyone else is cool

let’s start with sophie:

sophie

i’ll be honest, i’ve been conflicted on her character in this book for quite some time. but i think i understand my opinion on her in book 2 much better now that i’ve really thought about it. 

so this is the book where she’s probably at her most vulnerable (book 3 could be a contender too). she just lost her mind, killed many people, and is trying so hard to prove that she is good and deny everything that she had done the previous year. we also see why she behaves the way she does, with losing her mother at a young age and blaming her father for neglecting them. we understand why she goes so far to obtain love and why she ranks true love above everything else.

but her methods with dealing with this is toxic. she sees agatha as a tool for a happy ending, and it seems to come more out of desperation to belong with someone, then wanting agatha herself, as she easily dropped her for rafal and then tedros in book three. she does whatever she can to ensure agatha chooses her and only her much like tedros does in this book.

she sneaks out and follows agatha, makes agatha believe tedros tried to hurt her, comforted her and claimed she had “warned agatha” but also acted super forgiving as if agatha was the one who was in the wrong for doubting her and when the truth comes out, pins it all on agatha for trying to choose someone besides. her. now, agatha is not completely in the right in this situation, but what sophie does is so manipulative and cunning. without knowing her backstory and sympathizing with her, she would easily be soon as a cruel and toxic person.

her time as filip was very humbling for her and she realized what she did was completely wrong and she begans to sympathize with tedros and realize maybe he isn’t the villain of the story like she painted him to be. of course, this goes a bit far and she finds herself attracted to him.... which..... did not need to happen considering how toxic their relationship was in book 1.

at the end, she chose rafal out of desperation to be loved, showing she still hasn’t changed and ended up staying with him as he supposedly was the only person in the world who still loved her. (wrong very wrong he’s awful but we’ll get to that later-)

tedros

bro. broooooo. when i tell you i wanted to throw the darn book when i read his scenes in the first half of the book-

when dovey was explaining tedros’ actions after sophie and agatha left, i could not believe it, i thought she had to be joking because no way does an individual overreact to THAT point.

he literally wanted to murder sophie as revenge for taking agatha away from him?? what?? is he mentally okay? i understand seeing her as a barrier between them because, yeah, he’s always been insecure cause his dad’s best friend stole his mom away from him so that must’ve hit a nerve, but agatha willingly went with sophie. why does he need to hurt sophie over this? it’s up to agatha who she chooses, not sophie. and she chose him! she told him right to his face that she chose him and he’s still like “no we have to kill sophie first-” sir-

not to mention how generally messed up this message is? tedros claims that you can’t be in a relationship and have friends at the same time. what?? why is this in the book? why is this even a theme? of course you should be able to have friends and have a relationship, when did that suddenly become impossible?

 “I let her live last time and she took you! I can’t make the same mistake, Agatha. I can’t lose you again!” (Chapter 12). this is basically tedros trying to cut off agatha’s friendship because he knows she’s close with sophie and is worried she’ll choose her over him and he sees his only solution to this to be killing sophie. honestly, if i were agatha, i would be fucking terrified of him, like when i was reading it i was thinking “run from this relationship please-”

which sucks because i’m a huge tagatha fan but they were undeniably toxic in this book for me.

in the second half though, that’s when i started feeling bad for him because he genuinely thought he got betrayed by agatha too and ugh that killed me bc after her, he had no hope for happiness left and that’s why he turned to revenge, but the moment he freed the teachers, he got locked up, starved, beaten, and tortured which is ??

i wouldn’t wish that on anyone (except aric lawl) and god he did not deserve that i felt so horrible for him. everyone turned against him, the entire school hated him, he fully believed his true love betrayed him, and he got beaten by aric every single night. as much as i despised him before this point, he did not deserve any of that and i’m so glad filip came when he? she? did because yeah it’s tophie all over again (yikes) but he REALLY needed a friend then and i’m so happy he got one.

ONLY TO GET BETRAYED BY HIM AGAIN RIP. sorry that was not needed but ahem

i was so so happy when he realized agatha never lied and ended up going home with her, as much as i hated the ending, i was happy for him and only him, boy’s been through too much.

but overall, i’d say i dislike him as a character in this book but i also felt super bad for him?? book 2 is so complicated y’all i have so many mixed feelings about everyone in this book.

agatha

okay. so. i keep going back and forth between being fucking annoyed at her and feeling bad for her which i feel is an understandable summary of how she is in this book.

her being scared of sophie - i completely understand that. i’d be surprised if she wasn’t. this is a girl who tried to kill her, tore her down, and went batshit crazy just nine months ago and is now suddenly calm but there’s still a bad vibe to her? and she chose her over someone who finally treated her well, finally saw her as an equal, and showed her that she doesn’t have to bear so much burden just to be loved back.

but i honestly felt kind of annoyed at how she automatically, no hesitation wanted to stay with tedros forever and never look back. um. honey. let’s break this down. we’re talking about a boy she has had no contact with for nine months, wasn’t even in a solid relationship with before she left, and said boy probably has beef with her for leaving him in the first place. and she feels completely fine with sneaking into his school and telling him she wants to be with him forever the SAME day she got back.

what??? is??? this???

this is the same agatha who berated sophie for trying to get with tedros the same day she met him without even knowing him well, right? the same agatha who you’d expect to be smart and think through emotional decisions like these, right? did they replace her personality what???

i get the coven pushed her to meet him immediately but this was just so poorly planned out and so tactless i can’t help but judge her sorry hun.

after that she makes herself believe sophie is good and perfect and maybe this is just her lying to herself because she’s mad at herself for choosing tedros but reading about her talking about how sophie is so amazing and perfect and loves her more than anything compared to being ready to bolt at the sight of her was just so fake. can we talk about how fake their friendship in this book? how fake it is in general? i think wbk.

at the end she finds out sophie lied despite the obvious clues (the scim suit (WHY WOULD BEATRIX USE IT), the spirick marks on sophie’s wrist yada yada yada) and she dumps her ass for tedros and decides they’re staying together forever despite barely knowing him as a person not to mention he just tried to kill her um-

(where is the logic in this book please help me i can’t seem to find it-)

the coven

i’ll be honest: they annoyed the HELL out of me in this book. well, specifically anadil and hester. they pressured agatha to choose tedros and go to him on the first day she got back (BAD PLAN) all so they could return to normal,,, which i guess isn’t out of character for them to do anything to get what they want but it really wasn’t their business? or at least they had no right to be as pushy as they were.

not to mention how HORRIBLE they were to dot. oh my god. the way they treated her in this book was disgusting and the lowest point in their friendship. at first i passed it off as them being hurt that dot replaced them and were lashing out because they had no better way to deal with their problems, which is true but also?? let’s not forget they BULLIED dot so bad in their first year and even kicked her out and replaced her with sophie and as far as we know, they never apologized for it. can we really blame dot for wanting new and kinder friends?

but even then they persisted to isolate her from others, shut down her book club which she used to make friends, and ended up forcing herself to gain weight if she wanted to keep their friendship. y’all i don’t even think anyone realizes how toxic the coven can be at times, the books spend a lot of time solidifying their frienship to the point that it ignores how awful it was at first. and not to mention dot is used to this treatment as she’s been physically and emotionally abused by her father, so as much as she dislikes their treatment of her, she still sees them as her friends and she will do anything to keep them.

i’m glad dot has learned to stand up for herself and gave it back to hester in tlea but god was her and anadil’s treatment of her sickiening.

professor dovey

i did not like her scene in the beginning of this book. she was awful to agatha and sophie and kept tossing blame for how the woods changed on them and yelling at agatha for not choosing tedros - um, she had a split second to decide and her friend literally died and came back to life a minute ago, how was she expected to leave her?

i dunno the way she berated them really got on my nerves because they’re just 15 year olds? they didn’t ask for their story to be told or for their personal relationships to affect the entire world? yes, if it had to be pointed towards anyone, it’s them, but instead of comforting them and trying to help them find a way to fix this, she goes all pointing fingers and straight up saying it would be easier if sophie was dead (not gonna lie i had a good giggle when i read this part but if you think about, that’s actually really sickening).

i’ll be honest, i love professor dovey as a character but she just seemed so cruel in book 2 i mean i get she was super frustrated but these children are confused and distraught enough already? she’s their teacher, she’s supposed to look after them but instead she just insulted them and stressed them out.

as for lady lesso, yes she did the same, but that was pretty in character for her. yes, it was wrong of her, but idk it’s something you would expect from her and she’s known to be the type to be tough on her students, while dovey is just not like that at all. and also, dovey was WAY more mean and short-tempered in this mean, i have to say.

evelyn sader

she was... an interesting villain. super cunning super devious i really admired her except for her doing all of this toxic feminism bullshit (which was honestly already bad enough!) for rafal,  A MAN. WHAT. how does that make ANY sense?

evelyn: #kam2020 make them boys your slaves we got this in the bag girls

also evelyn: omg rafal senpai notice me uwu i did all of this for you *gestures towards girls annihilating boys*

anyways her death was um... shocking. rip. or maybe not.

aric

do- do i have to go into this one? killing yara, torturing tedros, being misogynistic, honestly pick one, i just don’t have the energy to rip him apart for the thousandth time.

[afictionaladventure16]

Remember Me (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 10

Remember Me Masterlist

Previously on Remember Me...

Warnings: angst and some fluff

Word Count: 2,175

A/N: A special thanks to @rae-is-typing​ for editing this fic for me! Love you so much!! ❤❤❤

“What do you think he’s going to do?” You whispered, looking at the screen. 

“You know the plan, J.J.” Roger focused on the screen. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if he loved his life because you couldn’t love yours. Every part of you wanted to scream and run, wanted to rebel against the orders but there was this part of you that didn’t let you have full control. Who would you be if you left? Where would you go? This life is all that you knew. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to. 

“I’m gonna go on a walk,” you stated as you got up from the couch. 

“It’s late, J.J.” 

“Don’t call me that!” You let out a frustrated groan. “That’s not even my real name!” You yelled. Roger was stunned by your small outburst. He watched as you placed a light jacket on. Part of him wanted to lock the door, refuse to let you out and the other just wanted to give you the space you needed. 

“You can’t just leave, it’s not safe out there,” Roger tried to bargain. Yet, he stayed in the same exact spot on the couch.

“I’ve been a weapon for god knows how long, I don’t think I have to worry about the dangers of the city nightlife.” Roger knew you were right, yet, he knew the world is still a pretty dangerous place. 

“J.J., how about-” 

“No!” You exclaimed. “I just want to be alone, can I please be alone?” You requested.  Roger stammered for words, but you left the apartment. 

You took the elevator down to the lobby of the apartment, you didn’t know where to go, only that you had to get out of there. 

The harsh breeze stung your exposed skin as soon as you stepped out of the apartment building. Sounds of honking cars and people hailing taxis filled your ears as you trekked further into the sidewalk. It was crowded, pedestrians shoved their way through crowds with little regard for the well-being of the other.  You bumped into the strangers as you walked along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at the sixth stranger with a briefcase that you bumped into. 

“Why aren’t these damn sidewalks any bigger?” You mumbled under your breath. 

After walking for a couple more blocks, you spotted a park. Breathing a sigh of relief, you walked towards the park, settling for a nearby bench that overlooked a small pond. A duck and her ducklings waddled over to the pond, and you couldn’t help but notice how carefully the duck stood by the pond as each of her ducklings waddled into the pond. Once she was sure that every duckling was in the pond, she waddled in as well. Astonishment overtook you. Animals showing compassion was a foreign concept. Yet, there is was right in front of you. 

Turns out there were many things that you still didn’t know. 

Your own name and where you came from are perfect examples. All you knew was what they had taught you, tortured you to learn. A rush of heat surfaced at your palms, a gross reminder of the lack of control you had over your own life. You never asked for these. All they did is remind you that you’ll never be normal, you’ll never just be you; you’ll always be something to be controlled. 

Hatred for Zemo festered in your bosom, you fumed at the thought of what he did to you. You didn’t understand why he would do such a thing without giving any reason. 

“J.J.?” A familiar voice broke you out of your thoughts. Bucky walked towards you, shrouded in near-complete darkness walked towards you, only illuminated in the light of the street lamps. “Hey, kiddo, what are you doing out in the park so late?” 

You gave him a small shrug. Bucky frowns, immediately sensing that something was off. He gestured for you to scoot over. You comply a bit before glancing over towards the ducks once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky gently asked. 

You couldn’t exactly tell Bucky what was wrong. Yet, for some reason, you wanted to. You felt like you could trust him, he had always given off this vibe that you couldn’t translate. 

Bucky assumed your silence meant that you were closing him off. “You know, you can always talk to me if there’s anything going on,” he began to say. “If there is anything at home that’s happening and you feel like you have no one to talk to-” 

“Home is fine,” you cut him off quickly. 

Bucky gave you a nod. “Does your dad know you’re out here alone?”

“Yeah,” 

“Is he okay with it?” 

“Probably not,” you whispered. “But he didn’t stop me.” 

“Did you want him to?” 

You stayed quiet, unsure of how to answer that. You did want Roger to stop you, but you also wanted space. 

“I miss my mom,” you blurted out. Bucky let out a soft sigh, placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a side hug. 

“I know, kid.” Bucky placed a platonic kiss on the top of your head. He fondness for you grew each moment he was by you. You reminded him of the past. “I miss my daughter every day.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

Bucky smiles sadly, breaking from the hug. “I used to.” 

“W-what happened to her?” You stuttered, fear sparking in your body at the risky question. You didn’t know if you were stepping over boundaries. 

“She Uhm,” Bucky cleared his throat. “We don’t know…” He felt tears begin to form in his eyes. “She was taken from us by some bad people.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I know how it feels to have things taken from you.” 

Bucky gave a soft smile through the burgeoning tears. “You know you remind me of her sometimes.” 

“I do?” You asked, meeting his bright blue eyes. “How?” 

“You ask a lot of questions,” Bucky responded. “She was only a kid, but boy did she ask so many questions too. She had dark brown hair, like yours, and Nat’s eyes…” Bucky couldn’t help but notice how similar you two were. He almost considered you her doppelganger. Bucky cleared his throat once again, a gust of cold air bursting through the park. You curled more into your light jacket, desperately trying to escape the cold. “Come on, I’ll walk you home, kid.” 

You sighed as Bucky stood from the bench and walked out of the park. “So, where exactly do you live?” 

“Down Fourth street.” 

“Fourth Street,” Bucky repeated. 

“They need to make these damn sidewalks bigger,” you muttered as someone pushed passed the two of you, yelling obscenities over their Bluetooth earpiece.

“You sound like a 100-year-old person.” Bucky chuckled.

“And you act like one,” you retorted. 

Bucky laughed. “Well, I am one.” 

You both stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, waiting for the light across the street to allow you both to walk. 

“Hold my hand, hon.” Bucky glanced behind him, spotting a father talking to his young daughter. “I don’t want to lose you.” The little girl giggled as she held onto her father's hand, swinging it slightly causing the father to grin. 

Bucky held onto your small hand, cursing to himself every time someone had bumped into him on the sidewalk. “Papa, how much longer?” 

“We’re almost there,” Bucky said. He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, letting go of your hand to press the Street Crossing button. You looked around as your father focused on the light across the street to change. The toys in the window of a store caught your attention. Intrigued, you slowly walked closer. You giggled as a train display drove around the dollhouse display. 

Bucky was relieved when the light finally signaled that they were allowed to cross, he reached out for your hand but quickly noticed that you weren’t there. 

“Y/N?!” Bucky called out in a panic as people began to crowd the area he was in. His eyes frantically searched for your dark brown hair as he pushed past the crowd. 

“Fuck!” He muttered to himself. His heart raced, even more, every second that he couldn’t find you. 

You could hear your dad yelling your name but you couldn’t see him, there were too many people passing by. You scooted towards the wall, your breathing becoming uneven as panic began to settle in. 

“Papa!” You whimpered as you slowly slid down the wall, bringing your knees up to your chest. Tears began to fall down your cheek as the sound of the cars passing by got louder, the chatter of people that passed you sounded like they were yelling and your father was nowhere in sight. 

Bucky continued to push his way through the crowd, he saw a small form next to the wall. He let out a relieved sigh as he recognized the outfit, he rushed over to you, quickly picking you up. 

“Thank god,” he mumbled as he placed his hand behind your head. You cried into his shoulder. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, baby doll.” 

“I’m sorry,” your voice cracked. You tried to speak your breathing was still uneven.

Bucky pushed back your hair before kissing your forehead. “You’re okay,” he mumbled as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. “That was scary huh?” You gave him a small nod, your sobs slowly decreasing. “How about we go get ice cream? I don’t think mommy will mind if we’re home a little late.” You beamed at the mention of ice cream, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at your expression. 

“Bucky,” You tugged on his arm. He jumped slightly by your action, letting out a sigh when he realized where he was. “You okay?” 

Bucky took in a deep breath, “Peachy.” He noticed the light signal change, “let’s go.” 

You shrugged it off, following Bucky across the street. “That’s my apartment,” you said as you pointed to the building that wasn’t too far. Bucky gave you a soft nod. 

“After you,” Bucky said as he opened the door. 

“You’re following me in?” 

“I’m making sure you get into your apartment,” He smiled. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean that I don’t know any of you young kids tricks.” 

You rolled your eyes and lead Bucky over to the elevator. 

“How long have you guys stayed here?” Bucky asked casually as you both walked into the elevator. 

You pressed the button for the fifth floor as you contemplate your answer. “Um, I want to say like a year?” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “I don’t remember,” 

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, you exited out of the elevator and began walking down the hall with Bucky a few steps behind you. You stopped at your apartment door, turning to Bucky who gave you a confused expression. “I don’t have a key,” you mumbled. 

“There’s this thing called knocking,” Bucky informed you as he knocked on the door. 

“Well, thank you, Bucky for dropping me off! I’ll see you at our next lesson!” 

“Oh, no, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” 

You groaned to yourself as the door opened. Roger quickly took notice of Bucky but he focused on you. “Do you know what you put me through this evening, young lady?” He snapped.

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him and into the small space. “Whatever,”

Roger watched as you walked towards your room, slamming the door behind you. “Sorry about that, Mr. Barnes,” Roger said softly. 

Bucky smiled politely. “Teenagers. And please, call me Bucky.” 

Roger nods. “Thank you for escorting her home.” 

“It was no problem. Goodnight, Mr. Jones and tell J.J. that if she ever needs to go on a walk for some fresh air to just message me? I think she could use someone to talk to.” 

“Of course, that would be much appreciated.” Roger felt so angry with himself, he swallowed his anger, withholding the urge to throw the vase that sat on the kitchen counter. But he felt angry for keeping everything that he knew to himself but he had to plan it out. He couldn’t be reckless about it. If he wanted to tell Bucky and Natasha the truth he had to do it with a foolproof plan,  one that not even Zemo would see coming. Bucky turned to walk away. “Actually, I would like to invite you and Natasha over for dinner tomorrow, if that’s alright?” 

“Dinner?”

“As a thank you for everything.” 

Bucky felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he quickly went for his phone. He knew he just couldn’t say no. “Dinner sounds nice,” Bucky said with a smile. 

“Is 7 O’clock good?” 

“Perfect,” Bucky stated. “I’ll let Natasha know.” 

Roger gave bucky a small nod before closing the door. Bucky glanced at his phone.

You need to come home. Now.  ~ Natasha

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at the message before running out of the apartment building. Bucky knew something wasn’t right. 

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[buckysforeverprincess]

Same Story, Different Pen

James Barnes/Chase Collins x Reader

Words: 1953

Warnings: Sad James/Chase

A/N: Hey all! I’m back with the second installment of the James Barnes/Chase Collins crossover. The title says it all. I felt we needed to hear from James/Chase. I got more planned, just have to find the time to get it written Hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! ❤️❤️❤️

GIF by @erikisright​

Five years had passed since he last spoke to her and time had not been nice to him. Gone were the pretty boy looks he’d once used to charm the literal pants off her and in its place, he looked more like he was approaching middle age. The change was so drastic, she hadn’t recognized him when he approached her today and it was a punch to his gut. The love of his life no longer knew who he was.

 Chase had been keeping an eye on his girlfriend and son for the past year. Well, it was more or less stalking, watching their every move and making sure they were okay and wanted for nothing. He’d always known where they were, using his magic to locate them, and was surprised to find them closer to his location than expected. Only over the course of the last couple of months did he decided it was time to show himself to her. To let his presence be known.

 He’d followed them, like usual. Saw them leave the apartment building and walk to the park, the two of them holding hands and unsuspecting of his presence. His cold heart ached for them, his love and his son. They were nothing but smiles as they made their way down the crowded street and to the park and he desperately wanted to be a part of it.

 The warmth they shared made him long for a time when they could be together as a family, exchanging loving looks and walking hand in hand. Chase yearned for it, to spend time with them while he still could but was unsure of just how well his resurrection would be perceived and he was living in borrowed time. With each passing day his looks changed, and he grew older. It was only a matter of time before he’d leave this life for good, leaving the people he truly loved behind.

 When the pair arrived at the park, he watched his son like a hawk as he let go of his mother's hand and ran over to the slide to play with the other children. Chase was sure the boy didn’t know any of the kids hanging around but that didn’t stop him from running right up and making friends, the others accepting the brown-haired child like they’d always known him. Chase couldn’t help but smile and feel a pang in his heart. His son was just as outgoing as he was, and it warmed him to think he’d got more than just his looks from his father.

 Reasoning his son was fine, his eyes gravitated to the bench his love sat on, watching their child playing with the other kids. Chase could feel his pulse accelerate as he stared, caught up in her beauty and grace. She’d glanced over in his direction but turned away, quickly focusing back on her child so she wouldn’t miss a thing, smiling and waving when they made eye contact with each other. Chase knew, no matter what life threw her way their child was her priority and she’d always be an amazing mother.

 As he continued to watch, Chase figured it was now or never and he stood from the bench he had occupied and began to walk over to the love of his life. The sky began to darken, and he stopped, knowing it was his magic causing the shift in the atmosphere. Damn him! His powers had grown so much that even a negative thought could make something change or shift, and in this moment, he needed the sun shining if this was going to work. On the flip side, the dark clouds could signify an omen… his rejection. Chase didn’t know if he could suffer another heartbreak and the loss of losing them both again.

 Chase only moved when he concluded she was lost in thought, her head looking up towards the sky. His eyes were focused on her while he closed the distance and sat down beside her without making a sound.

 “It’s not going to rain.” His voice is low and ragged from the lack of use and he knows he startled her. Chase kept his head forward, not wanting to make eye contact or show his face to her, trying to get a read on the situation.

 “Are you a meteorologist? Got the inside scoop on what’s in store with the weather?”

 It was a joke, or her attempt at humor. She was tense and rightfully so. It wasn’t every day a man sits next to you and makes small talk. In this day and age, people kept to themselves and allowed for as little contact as possible. His love had every right to be skeptical of the man taking up space on the bench next to her. In her mind, there was no telling what his intentions were.

 “You're a good mom… I’m sorry you had to go through so much on your own.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he knew at that moment he had fucked up.

 “Do I know you?”

 Chuckling, he faces her. His eyes lock onto hers and he can feel the intensity of her stare but doesn’t answer her question. It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid it and lie, he just wasn’t ready. This wasn’t the time and the place for full disclosure, and he couldn’t risk being honest and watching her take their son and run away. Chase would have to play this smart and let the wheels in her head spin and make the connection to who he was on her own.

 “Forgive me,” he holds out his hand in offering, “I’m James. James Barnes.” The alias he’d been using rolls off his tongue with ease.

 She stares at him, like she’s searching for something within him. Chase knows he looks nothing like the eighteen-year-old boy he’d once been with the baby face. He was young and carefree once and she loved his soft features and playful smile, but that wasn’t the person he was anymore and in front of her was a middle-aged man with some very adult wrinkles and a graying beard. There was no way in the world she’d recognize him like this and not a chance in hell she’d believe him if she told her who he really was.

 “I don’t bite.” Chases’ eyes move between his hand and her face, a silent plea for her to take. She just stares at it and he can sense the gears shifting in her head. The love of his life doesn’t trust him, smart woman. He can tell she’s at war with herself and because she can’t figure it out, she does the one thing he hoped she wouldn’t do. Chase shakes his head when she grabs her purse and quickly stands, hurrying to put some distance between the two of them. Fuck! This is not how he’d played things out in his head and he was hoping for a better response than running away from him.

 “Y/N!” Chase yells making her stop and looks back at him. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or curiosity staring back, but he’d called out her name without thinking of the consequences of what that might do. His gut was telling him explaining this away wouldn’t be easy and she wouldn’t give up without answers.

 “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

 That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question now, wasn’t it? If he told her who he really was, game over. She’d run. Chase knew she’d disappear without ever looking back. And who’s to say she wouldn’t end up back in Ipswich and telling those four fuckwads he was still alive? Right now, he was off their radar and he’d like to keep it that way. There’s no way he could tell her the man she once loved and shared a child with was standing in front of her wanting to make things right. No, today’s not the day for that.

 James shrugs and gets up from the bench and slowly makes his way to where she stands. “I don’t understand. Why Brooklyn? You could’ve gone anywhere, any place in the world. Why here?” He was doing his best to avoid answering her. He could play the distraction and omission game all day long if it meant not sharing his deepest secret.

 “You… you didn’t answer my question. Who are you and how do you know my name?”

 Of course, she wouldn’t give up. Chase knew she was stubborn and headstrong. It’s one of the many reasons he fell for her in the first place. She was a firecracker and once that fuse was lit, she wouldn’t stop until she either got what she wanted, or she went bang. He was trying not to make the former or the latter happen. Not today, devil.

 James takes a chance at distraction and leans in to her ear. So close he knows she can feel his breath on her skin. “I told you… my name is James Barnes… and you have something that belongs to me,” he says low and soft, almost like a whisper.

 “I-I… I have nothing… please, let me go.”

 Chase can’t help but laugh. He’s not holding her and definitely isn’t prohibiting her from walking away if she really wants to. If she had her wits about her, she’d know she’s the one holding all the power. Chase is at her mercy and is the one who should be begging her for absolution.

 “Is that what you want… to go? I let you go once… I don’t intend to make that mistake again.” Chase knows he’s practically giving himself away, but he needs her to make the connection on her own. He can’t divulge who he is without her freaking out. The warlock knows it’d be better for all of them if she’d look past the face fuzz and the gray hair and figure out just who was standing in front of her.

 “Mom!” The sound of his son’s voice pierces his ears, gaining his attention. God, seeing his son up close is like looking in a mirror, his own reflection staring back at him. Chase wants nothing more than to scoop him up and hold him close, never letting him go.

 Chase stands watching the interaction between mother and son, desperately wanting to be involved, but he can’t. Today was about appearing before the love of his life, trying to ease her into knowing. It was up to her to connect the dots and see the big picture. It was apparent he’d have to give her a little more push than he’d originally intended.

 “Here young man…,” he takes an envelope from his pocket and hands it to his son, a little insurance plan he’d already planned out, written by him prior to leaving his own house. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N.” As soon as his son takes it, he starts to back away, but not before leaving a parting gift for one of them to find.

 Chase was able to disappear without being seen, using his magic when he was far enough away to leave without a trace. He didn’t stick around to see the end result and how she reacted to the letter, he couldn’t. The only part left of his heart was broken and he wasn’t sure how or if it could ever be repaired. It’d been five years and he regrets ever letting his greed and lust for power control him. How in the hell would he ever win the love of his family… and could he do it before it was too late?

Tags:

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[roxa-sos]

bad idea! - kiara carrera

kiara carrera x kook!reader

tw; kinda smutty, gay angst, sarah cameron and the kooks being homophobes yikes

not requested; as a kook, you'd think the people you'd never been want to be around would be easier to escape. you'd think a life on figure eight with your cushy life and rich friends would be fulfilling and perfect. of course, you can't get her out of your head, and you can't stop seeing her. even when you fuck your own life up for her. 

a/n -- im so gay for kiara it's not even funny 😔 i made a tiktok for my friend about what i would wear if i was in obx and my outfits were: on daddy's yacht, party at the cameron's, midsummer's, and caught kissing kie by the pogues 😌

tags; @maybankiara

it was a bad idea calling you up was such a bad idea 'cause now im even more lost it was a bad idea to think you were the one was such a bad idea 'cause now everything's wrong

there was something about her that seemed so thrilling to be with. yeah, she'd abandoned you and your friends years ago, but you had never been able to get her out of your mind. 

it had started when you visited the wreck with your mom. first time since kiara told all of the kooks to fuck off and left you for the pogues. when your mom had to leave early for work, kiara joined you at your table.

an hour later, your heart was racing as she pushed you up against the bathroom wall and kissed you like her life depended on it. 

you couldn't get her out of your mind. you'd dated guys, those white trash frat boys your dad knew. they were good, fine, but kiara was different. the way her hands held the back of your neck and her lips hesitated pressing against yours but could dance over your skin with no issues. the way you could tangle your hands in her hair and keep her close. 

a month of hookups later, you invited her over to your house. reassured your parents that it was just your old friend kiara, that she was good to have over, and you thought you had the rest of the night to yourselves. 

you put your hands under my shirt undid my bra and said these words "darling, you're so pretty, it hurts" you pushed me up against my wall threw my clothes down on the floor "darling, are you ready for more?"

you always told her you'd ditch the kooks for her, but it never happened. you didn't want things to change, you liked the secret. you liked falling in love like that. you liked the thrill of locking the bathroom door, of finding an empty room at midsummer's, of her kissing you until you couldn't breathe and then leaving you wanting more. 

the second you closed your bedroom door, she dropped her backpack on the ground and gave you that look she always did before taking a few steps towards you. her eyes skimming over your body, her hands moving up to hold your face, and before you even knew it, she was backing you up towards your bed, kissing you hard. 

touching her was like a religious experience. sliding your hands under her shirt and holding her waist as she was holding her body above you with one elbow propped up on her bed, her other hand holding your jaw. you two never talked until you were done, but she always had things to say between kisses, while you were catching your breath. 

you knew it was bad. hooking up was bad in the first place, emotionless wrecks. hooking up with pogues could really fuck things over for you, who fucked what your friends called 'the scum of the earth'? you knew your friends and family would kill you for hooking up with a girl, on top of all of that. worse, you knew you were falling in love with that pogue princess. 

"darling, you're so pretty it hurts." she muttered against your neck, seconds before she helped you take your shirt off, her own following.

it was a bad idea calling you up was such a bad idea, i'm totally fucked it was a bad idea to think i could stop was such a bad idea, i can't get enough

"what the fuck is going on in here?" you heard a familiar voice at the door. sarah cameron. kiara rolled off of you, looking panicked as you sat up to sit in between her and sarah.

"i swear, it's not what it looks like, sarah," you pleaded, looking for your shirt. what did it look like? "it, i'm-"

"what the fuck?" sarah laughed, covering her mouth. more bodies crowded at the door, more of your friends.

rafe. topper. kelce. all looking into your room. you could hear your heart beating, heat rushing to your face, hope leaving your body.

"i didn't know you fucked pogues, y/n." topper's voice was loud, you could tell they weren't happy. "i didn't know you were a fucking-" 

sarah shoved her boyfriend, trying not to laugh.

"get out," you said rather calmly at first, before shouting. "get out! fucking leave! out!" they listened, shutting the door before you could hear them walking away from the door. 

they were all disgusted. all of your friends. the people you hung out around constantly, the people you went to school with, the people who made you important. you were holding your shirt in your hands, staring blankly at the door.

"fuck." you heard kie mumble from behind you, the weight shifting on your bed as she pulled herself a little closer to you. she rested her hands on your shoulders, trying to calm you down as she rubbed little circles into your skin with her thumbs. you couldn't help but flinch.

you threw away everything for her. for a pogue, for a girl.

it was a bad idea meeting you so late was such a bad idea 'cause i can't think straight it was a bad idea to bring you back home was such a bad idea, i need to be alone

you kicked her out. you didn't know what else to do, especially knowing that everyone would know within hours. the kooks couldn't keep secrets for shit. you knew topper would be talking about how you hooked up with the 'bitch y/n hooked up with' and that rafe would let things slip because he was always high. kelce would talk about how he saw straight girl on girl action right in front of him. sarah would feel 'obligated' to tell her friends, in case you had a crush on any of them.

"this was a bad idea, kie." your voice wavered as you turned to face her, not even able to look at her. 

"a bad idea?" she repeated, like she'd heard you wrong. like you were playing some sick joke on her. 

"a bad idea. i'm fucked. you're fucked." you felt like crying, but you got the words out. you didn't want to lose her too, but you had to salvage what you had left of a reputation. 

"we're not fucked, y/n, i'm sure the pogues would be fine with this-"

"i'm not a fucking pogue, kiara!" you snapped, laughing. she didn't understand, did she? "i'm not! i'm not! i live on daddy's money and waste my days away on gold courses with guys in polos!" 

"but you could be, you just... come on," she pleaded, she couldn't believe you wanted to stay that way. "you don't want what i talked to you about? worry free fun with my friends?" 

"i have friends too, kie." 

"it doesn't look like it, babe."

you couldn't believe she'd say it. she wasn't wrong, but how could she say that to you? "they're fine friends." you responded, sliding away from her. you slid your shirt over your head.

"come on, you can't just give up like that. so we're out. it's not conventional, but-" she began, moving back towards you.

"they'll kill you if they see you again. my parents would kill you. my friends. the kooks. it's not just that you're a pogue, you know that, but i don't think you understand it." you couldn't possibly tell her what it was like. you had to keep up a reputation around your friends no matter what - it didn't seem like she had to. 

"they didn't know you-"

"like girls."

you stayed quiet for a moment after that, taking deep breaths.

"leave. please." you whispered, and she finally obliged. picking up her things, leaving your room as you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow. the things you'd give to be back in a bubble with that girl. you couldn't be dumb, though.

it was a bad idea. 

[apoguecalledjj]

Fixation (Chapter 6)

Series summary: Eleanor is new to the outer banks, and the pogues are quick to take her in. But so are the kooks, and as she grows closer with Rafe, trouble emerges. Trying to balance her relationship with the pogues and the kooks, as well as dealing with her own personal problems, Eleanor falls into a hole she may not be able to dig herself out of.

Chapter Word Count: 3366

Chapter Warnings: mentions of addiction and drug use

Previous Parts: Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

Taglist: @prejudic3 @maragritatimebaybee @drewxxrudy @outerbankslove @bricksatanakinswindow @alexa-playafricabytoto 

Rafe made it clear that he did not want Ellie hanging out with the pogues. When he woke up the day after their argument, he started another one, yelling at her once again. She only managed to calm him down by promising him that he would stay away from them. Even though Ellie was beginning to become scared of her boyfriend after their physical altercation, she still didn’t keep her promise. Living with a crazy, drug-addicted mom had taught her a lot about sneaking around and she was putting those skills to good use. Rafe was spending a lot of time with Topper and Kelce anyway, which made it easy. She had been hanging out with the pogues a lot. To be honest, she only went to Rafe’s every couple of nights to get high and have sex. He seemed content, now and then he would accuse her of avoiding him but once the cocaine got into him it was always forgotten about. Currently, Ellie was sat on the dock by the chateau. John B and Sarah sat across from her, Kiara and JJ on either side and Pope in the hammock a couple of feet away. It was a beautiful day, but for some reason, they had decided against swimming and instead had spent the morning sitting around, drinking beer and complaining about being bored. JJ had his arm draped loosely over Ellie’s shoulders. She had expected his friendliness to change once he found out she was dating Rafe, but he never faltered. She always brushed it off, because JJ flirts with everyone, but she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t notice the way he had stopped drifting away to tourists at parties or how John B and Pope constantly teased him and asked him if he was okay. According to them, he hadn’t gone this long without getting laid or even kissing a girl in over a year. Thinking that JJ might actually be seriously flirting with her made her stomach twist in a way she tried to ignore. Ellie knew Rafe wouldn’t be impressed with the way JJ was treating her, especially since she wasn’t meant to be hanging out with him at all. Yet, she never pushed him away or asked him to stop, because secretly, she enjoyed it. “Ellie, you never did mention what brought you to the outer banks,” Pope mentioned, looking at her from where he was in the hammock. “Is Travis your mom's brother or your dad's?” JJ could feel her tense underneath his arm, and he gently squeezed her shoulder. Besides her aunt and uncle, he was still the only person on the island to know her secret, she hadn’t even told Rafe. Not that Rafe cared enough to even ask. “uh,” She mumbled, looking down and picking at the skin around her fingernails. She hated hiding things from the pogues, they were so nice and open with her, and she did feel like they deserved to know. She trusted them. But it had always been hard for her to talk about, no matter who with. Not to mention it brought her mind right back to the fact that she was falling right into her mother’s footsteps. The scariest part was she didn’t care enough to change it. Ellie was already in too deep. JJ leaned over slightly, so his lips were near her ear. “Don’t feel like you have to tell them, El.,” He assured. “They’re not pushy. They’ll understand.” Ellie nodded, but she knew it was time to finally let them know. All of her new friends were looking at her, eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. She continued to pick at her fingers, preparing herself to possibly change her friend's opinion of her. “It’s a bit hard for me to talk about,” She started. Her brain was flicking through memories like photographs. The day her little sister was born. Birthday parties. Vacations. Her mom, healthy and happy. First days of school. Then, as the timeline continued, less of her mom. More of Ellie taking care of her sister. Her mom stumbling home late with men Ellie didn’t trust around her sister. Needles left lying around that she was left to dispose of. Getting eviction warnings. Quitting sports to get a job. She didn’t even realize she was crying until JJ reached up and gently brushed a tear away. She sniffled, quickly wiping her eyes. There was no need for them to see her cry. “It’s okay, Ellie, you don’t have to tell us. We don’t mind.” Kiara spoke softly, smiling at her gently. She shook her head, continuing to speak. “My mom is a drug addict.” It felt like a weight was left off her chest, just letting that one piece of information out. She didn’t look up, had no intentions of locking eyes with any of the pogues. She could imagine well enough how they were looking at her. “She lost her job. It got worst and worst. I was terrified we would end up homeless. I had to give up all my after school activities, I got a job and worked as much as I could. I was selfish, I know I should have told someone or asked for help, but I was terrified of getting separated from my sister. I didn’t want to lose Sadie. She’s only 9.” Ellie choked up at the mention of her sister. JJ rubbed her back slowly, trying his best to soothe her even though he understood that probably wasn’t possible. “Eventually it got too much. My grades were dropping. I almost failed my junior year. Mom was spending more time at home instead of at other houses, and she brought men with her. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Sadie in that house. I was scared something would happen to her. “I called DCS. I fucking called DCS on my own mother,” She sobbed out. This was the most she had ever told anyone. “They came to take my sister. They had contacted her dad, a man she didn’t even know, and he decided to fight for custody. It was short, because of the situation, and he won. She went with him. I went with uncle Travis, even though I begged to stay home. I needed to take care of my mom. She needed me.” JJ pulled Ellie even closer as her body shook with the sobs overcoming her. Sarah and John B were frozen in shock, John B had suspected something had happened for her to come here that she was uncomfortable talking about, but this wasn’t what he expected. Kiara grabbed her hand, squeezing it slightly. “They promised me I’d hear from my sister. That we would stay in contact. I haven’t heard from her yet. I don’t even know who her fucking father is, cause my mom was a goddamn slut and we had different dads. Surprised she only ended up with two kids.” The anger in her voice quickly shifted back to sadness. “I don’t even know what happened to my mom,” Ellie whimpered. “She might be dead.” “They wouldn’t let anything happen to her, El,” JJ reassured her as she sobbed into his chest. “She’s getting the help she needs.” “I just wish they’d let me know,” Ellie muttered. “Uncle Travis refuses to talk about her.” Kie wrapped her arms around Ellie. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to go through that.” Sarah shifted over and joined the hug as well. “I’m sure you’ll hear from your sister soon.” Before long, Pope and John B had joined as well, and the six of them sat on the dock, huddled together in a group hug around Ellie, as her sobs slowly quieted and her body stopped shaking, comforted by her friends. --- Rafe had dragged Ellie to a party, but it wasn't on the beach like she was used to. Instead, she was at some random kook's house, music vibrating the wall and way too many unfamiliar faces. Pogues weren't welcome at these parties, Rafe told her. She wasn't stupid, she knew they stopped going to the Boneyard because her friends were there. He was dragging her here so she would be away from them. But his plan failed, because only an hour after they got there, there were shouts and whoops from the front door. The pogues were crashing the party, and Ellie had never been more glad to see some faces she knew. The party had been dull so far, and now there might be some excitement. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, glancing between his girlfriend next to him and the four pogues he noticed her staring at. It angered him, he could tell she longed to go talk to them. Her eyes were fixated on JJ specifically. God, Rafe hated that guy, hated the way Ellie seemed to be obsessed with him. That would have to be dealt with. JJ turned and finally noticed Ellie. “We should go say hi!” He said to John B, his eyes locked on the beautiful girl across the room. He didn’t notice it, but his smile grew wider. John B shook his head. “No man, are you crazy? She’s with Rafe.” JJ hadn’t noticed Rafe until John B pointed him out, standing right next to Ellie. She looked slightly uncomfortable, tense, and Rafe looked unhappy, angry even, his eyes slowly scanning the room. So JJ just waved at her instead, not being able to help himself. He saw her slight smile as she moved her hand to wave back, but Rafe grabbed her arm before she could lift it. JJ could tell he was holding Ellie too hard, he saw her wince at his grip. Rafe’s lips were moving angrily, but JJ was too far away to pick out what was being said. “John B he’s hurting her,” JJ said, turning to his best friend, but the brunet was nowhere to be seen. He glanced back at where Ellie was but the spot was now empty, the girl he cared so deeply about, and the boy who was hurting her gone. He glanced around, looking for any signs of her, but there were too many people at the party and whichever kook lived here had a huge house. Rafe’s hand grasped Ellie’s arm tightly. “Stop fucking staring at the pogues,” He sneered in her ear, quiet enough that no one could hear. “You’re here with me, alright? I don’t need my girl being seen with those fucking dirtbags.” He pulled back a bit, loosening his grip. Ellie stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that he would get so angry in public. “Come on now, baby,” He said, softer now. “Let’s go get the fun started.” He dragged her into a room just down the hallway, where multiple kooks she didn’t recognize were sat around a table covered in lines of white powder. Her body finally relaxed at the sight of the drug in front of her, she was eager to get across the room and lean down to the table. She tore away from Rafe, and before long, Ellie was bent over the table with the rest of them, a dollar bill rolled and assisting her in snorting the drug. She sighed happily, the feeling she missed and craved for finally coming back to her. All the conflict from Rafe was forgotten as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her, leaning down to do a line of his own. JJ quickly found his friends and a beer and tried his best to relax and enjoy himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Ellie had looked so upset, Rafe so angry, and he feared what the boy might do to her in a state of anger. “Guys I think we should go look for Ellie,” He mentioned to Pope and Kiara. John B and Sarah were off god knows where probably doing things no one wanted to think about. "JJ, she's with Rafe and you know how that'll end. I'm sure she's fine." Pope assured JJ. "I'm worried though, Rafe looked angry at her earlier. We don't have to talk to her, I just want to know where she is." He told the two. "Please," he added on after. "Okay fine," Kie gave in. "But just to find where she is. We are not talking to her. And don't make it obvious that we're looking for her, especially to Rafe." The three made their way around the party, squeezing around various kooks who did not seem too impressed by the pogues. They poked their head into room after room, praying that they wouldn't come across a couple having sex. Ella wasn't in the bathrooms, and she definitely wasn't still out at the party. Pope drifted down a hallway and stopped outside an open door. "Oh fuck," He muttered, leaning slightly against the wall. "Fuck. Fuck." "What? What is it?" JJ rushed over to where Pope was standing, Kiara not far behind. But Pope had no need to answer because the two could easily see what he had: Ellie sat around a table with half a dozen kooks, the surface in front of her scattered with cocaine. JJ prayed that Ellie was just there with Rafe, that she would know better than to get caught up in that, but all his prayers went out the window as he watched her grab the dollar bill from Rafe's hand and bend down. Kiara's breath hitched in her throat. "Oh, Ellie," She mumbled. We have to do something, guys." Pope said, moving towards the door. "No." JJ, of all people, held Pope back. "Look at how effortless she does it. The smile on her face. No one is pressuring her, I don't think this is her first time. If we rush in there telling her off, we just risk getting beat to shit by Rafe and his friends. We'll talk to her tomorrow after she works." Pope and Kiara nodded and turned, making their way back to the party. But JJ stayed just a minute longer, his heartbreaking as he watched Ellie fall in the steps of her mother. --- JJ didn’t wait until after work. The moment Ellie walked through the door, ready to clock into her shift, he jumped up. “Hey JJ!” She said excitedly, but her smile faltered when she noticed he didn’t match her energy. “Is something wrong?” “Yeah, somethings wrong,” JJ told her, sitting back down at the table with Pope, John B, and Sarah. Ellie scraped her brain, trying to figure out what this could be about. But she came up empty-handed, she couldn’t figure out what the pogues wanted to talk to her about. Kiara made her way out from behind the counter to the table they were sitting at. “Come on.” She motioned for Ellie to sit down with them. “Work can wait.” Kiara’s eyes looked stressed, and a quick glance at JJ and she could tell he hadn’t slept, dark bags under his eyes. Ellie pulled out a chair and sat down with them, fiddling nervously with her fingers under the table. She chewed at her lip until she tasted blood, her mind racing with possibilities of what was about to occur. “We saw you last night at the party,” Pope said softly. Ellie screwed up her face in confusion. She knew they had seen her, JJ had even waved. “After we got there,” Kiara added, sensing her confusion. “You were in a room.” Finally, everything fell together for Ellie. The pogues had seen her doing cocaine. They knew. Her breathing quickened, her hands beginning to shake slightly. They were never supposed to find out, and now here she was, five pairs of eyes staring at her with sadness, sympathy, and disappointment. She pushed back her chair harshly, standing up. “I don’t want to have this conversation.” John B, who had been sat on the left of her, grabbed her wrist softly. “Ellie, we want to help you.” He and Sarah had been filled in the night before, and even though they didn’t physically see it, they were just as shocked as the other three. “I don’t need your guys help.” Ellie took a step back. “It’s just cocaine.” “I know you’re smarter than that, Ellie. It’s not ‘just cocaine’. You have a history of addiction in your family. Do you really want to end up like your mom?” Pope asked, but that was the wrong thing to say. Ellie scoffed and turned on her heels, not wanting anything to do with the five people behind her right now. “I’m not my fucking mom.” She stormed across the room, letting the door slam on her way out. “Good job Pope!” JJ shouted before jumping up to go after her. Kiara went to get up too but JJ put out his hand, “No, stay there. I got this.” JJ found Ellie outside, leaned up against her uncle's truck. Tears were silently streaming down her face. Now that he knew about her usage, he was angry with himself for not knowing something was up sooner. Her nostrils were red and irritated, and she had lost weight in only the few weeks she had been here. Her hands were always shaking and her mood swings were quite severe, but JJ had always brushed that off as PMS. “El,” He mumbled quietly, reaching her side. “I’m not in the mood to be yelled at, JJ,” She muttered, shifting her body away from him. “I’m not gonna yell at you.” He grabbed her shoulder lightly and turned her so she was facing him. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I’m not mad.” Ellie nodded slowly, before breaking out into a sob. “I’m sorry, JJ,” She leaned her body into him, her face buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I fucked up, I know but Rafe is always doing it. I didn’t think it would hurt. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. But now I can’t stop and JJ I’m so scared because I really don't want to end up like my mom and-” JJ cut her off. “Hey, El, shhh. It’s okay. We’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not gonna end up like your mom. You’re stronger than that, okay? It’s okay,” He gently kissed the top of her head, her sobbing getting quieter and her shaking slowing. “I’m sorry, JJ,” Ellie said, pulling back to look at him. her eyes were red and puffy, she looked so sad, and nothing could have broken his heart more. He hated to see her like this. “You’ve barely known me for three weeks and this is what you have to deal with. I don’t expect you to help, JJ.” “Of course I’m going to help you.” “Why?” Ellie couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to deal with her. “Because I’m falling in love with you, El. You make me feel things, things I’ve never felt before. I care about you, so, so fucking much and seeing you hurt like this is tearing my heart apart. Seeing you get better is the only thing I want to see.” Ellie smiled softly. “You really mean all that?” JJ nodded. “I do.” Neither of them knew who leaned in first, but their lips were pressed together. It felt right, this wasn’t how Ellie felt when she kissed Rafe, this was better. JJ’s arm wrapped around her waist lightly, his other hand gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. He bit her bottom lip softly and she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in. They could have stayed like that forever, Ellie’s hand tangled in JJ’s hair as she leaned up against the truck for support. But footsteps heading towards them quickly and they pulled apart, smiling at each other for just a second. But when Ellie turned to see who was coming, the smile fell quickly. Rafe was stood, just a couple feet away, a glare on his face, aimed more at JJ than Ellie. “Ellie, you want to explain to me what the fuck is going on?”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 16: Hallucinations

CW: BIG references to parental death/grief after losing parents (seriously, if that’s a thing for you that you can’t handle, you will not want to read to the end of this). Solitary/isolation torture, auditory and tactile hallucinations, panic/anxiety, whump of a minor, emotional breakdown, reference to self-injury, reference to severe head-banging episode/negative stimming resulting in injury

Count to ten, Tris! One… two...

Her voice is so loud he jumps, but when he looks to the left, nothing’s there. Just the white walls, plain and featureless, white tiles that were smooth under his fingertips back when he was allowed to touch them. 

Everything is cold, and the boy has been shivering for so long that his muscles ache from the constant tense-and-release, tense-and-release, struggling to keep him warm. Everything aches, and the cold isn’t the only reason his muscles keep tightening up around his bones, threatening to snap them apart under the pressure. The thick collar that digs and rubs into the skin of his throat is why, too.

Chilled air comes from somewhere above him, just like the flat, featureless white light. It prickles at his skin, that light, lays along with palpable weight. He can’t shake it, there’s nowhere dark or warm to escape to. Now that they’ve taken his hands away, he can’t even bury his head in his arms to find some thin sliver of softness.

No, all that’s here is hard heavy light, and air that gives him goosebumps and makes him shake, and he would draw his fingers over the little bump on his arms but he can’t do that anymore.

Three… four… five…

There’s a little-boy voice counting along with her voice now, and he hums, trying to drown it out, but the counting keeps going. He can’t stop it because it’s not a real sound, it’s not, but if it were…

If she were alive, he’d play hide-and-seek with her again, even though he’s almost grown, he should have been a junior this year if he wasn’t stuck with Aunt Jo, if she hadn’t pulled him out of school, if he was-

If she were here-

He’d play, again, if he had the chance.

He hums, hums, hums, but he can’t drown her out.

Six… seven… eight…

He rocks forward as far as he can, and back, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t help. He needs to move, to touch things, to exist in the world and he isn’t allowed, not until he signs. He doesn’t want to sign but until he signs, he’s in here, alone.

He’s going to-... he’s going crazy maybe. Is that why he can hear her? Jo thinks he’s already crazy, you’re all crazy she says, and worse than that, but he’s not, there’s a word for his brain, there’s a word that isn’t crazy-

He can’t remember it. He’s too tired. The word slips through his fingertips and slides off his tongue and away even as his mouth keeps fighting to form the ‘aw’ sound.

The light is so heavy and he wants to sleep so much but he has to sign, to sleep.

The light is so heavy… 

He groans, straightening his fingers, trying desperately to stretch the muscles in the palms of his hands where his wrists cross at the small of his back. Locked into place by thick metal cuffs, they only make the cold worse. 

He did this to himself, the man in the black uniform said. He wouldn’t sign his contract, which means he has to stay here until he changes his mind, but staying here is - it’s horrible, and he doesn’t want his, he couldn’t ever have wanted this.

He’s losing his mind, isn’t he?

Wait, did he think that already-

He already thought about being crazy, he is thinking in circles and loops and his thoughts crash and spark and smoke against each other, wreckage he can’t remember how to overcome. He used to think like this, when it was too loud too hot too cold too bright too many people too much. 

There’s nothing here, but he knows now that nothing is just as bad as too much.

Ready or not, here I come!

The sound of footsteps, moving quick from one side of the room to the other with a soft burst of a woman’s laughter and he flinches, rattling the pole his shock collar is attached to, the one that locks him into the floor. He pulls too far to the one side and feels the sudden pop of sensors against his skin just before he lights up in pain.

Tristan’s back arcs in a nearly perfect bow as the agonizing current overtakes him, pulling as far as the pole will let him, and he screams. The scream is swallowed by the walls - they’ve eaten so many of his screams by now - and by the time he collapses forwards, slumped, with his arms jerking and twitching without his consent, the scream is gone.

Back to harsh white light and a silence broken only by his whimpering breathing. Tristan’s sore throat - each swallow is like trying to swallow around shards of glass - is all the evidence left that he ever made any noise at all.

His lip stings - he tongues at it and finds he’s bitten it open again, the coppery-sweet-salt taste of blood on his tongue.

Tristan hasn’t had food that tastes like anything in days. The blood, at least, has a taste. 

He presses into the split with his top teeth, encourages it to open even more. 

They tried to take his blood away from him already, when he made there be color - be something - on the walls. He imagines he can still see the smears of red, can still trace the movements of his own fingertips as he painted there, the pressed color he pulled out of his own body and ruined, however briefly, the pristine nothing white. 

He made it be something, anything, any fucking thing at all.

The red had been bright, and then faded to brown before they found him, still bashing his head into the wall to make more red for the walls, to calm the shrieking chaos inside of him. To soothe the pain caused by the endless bright white light and his fear.

They found him hitting his head, moaning, low rhythmic noises deep in his throat like he used to do on his worst days, only this is worse than all of those days combined. They found him with blood smeared over his whole face from his hands, slapping his palms into the wall, speech forgotten and buried under the buzz in his brain.

They dragged him to the clinic, and did scans of his head, and whatever they found, they put him right back here in the end.

Now there’s a pole hooked to his collar that keeps him away from the walls and the floor, and they forced his hands behind his back so he can’t hurt himself, and he can’t make blood to bring color to the walls anymore. There’s a bandage on the side of his head, and it hurts but it doesn’t bleed anymore.

He wants the blood back.

There’s a needle in his arm feeding him something clear from a bag hung on the wall. He thinks the bag is why they never bring him water. He thinks the bag is why he feels woozy and strangely slow, too, why he can’t seem to get worked up enough to have a really bad day again.

He starts laughing, choked-off, and it’s nothing like his real laughter but it’s a sound, and a sound is something. But it doesn’t drown her out.

Even though she isn’t really here.

Tris? Baby? Are you in the-... where are you hiding? I give up, baby, can you come out, please?

“I’m, I’m trying,” He whispers, and his voice is raspy, hoarse. He can hear her, foggy and soft but so present, she sounds like she’s right there. If he can just see past the light, he could see her, waiting for him. Or trying to find him. If he could just see...

But it’s just him, alone in the room. She’s not trying to find him. She’s dead.

His head hurts.

His heart hurts. Hollowed out in his chest, empty and cold and full of the way she was in the world, took up space and stood between him and everything else, and now she doesn’t and it’s all his fault. Now he’s here, where he can’t even go see the place where she and his father are resting. He can’t.

He can’t get them back.

He moved when he was supposed to stay still.

You have to be good or you’ll be hurt-

Wait, no, that’s what the man in the black uniform says, not his parents. They didn’t say-... did they? Did she tell him that? No. No, man in the-... in the uniform…

He shudders, and his collar pops in anticipation, but he doesn’t pull enough to any side to set it off. His shoulders shake and he wonders if he’s trying to cry. He can’t remember.

He is full of pieces of her but she’s gone, and his father is gone, and it’s not fair, but now he’s here and is it-... is it because of what happened? Is this punishment for moving when he should have been still?

He came out of his hiding place and he just wanted her to hold him and then the red on the walls and the police sirens found him with red on his hands and his dad had lived long enough to tell them, to say what happened, that it wasn’t Tristan’s fault-

But it was.

Is this… prison? Did they put him here because he killed his parents? There wasn’t a trial. The cops said it wasn’t his fault. The doctors said it wasn’t his fault. But maybe they had a trial and nobody told him.

Did he really ask them to bring them here, like they keep saying he did? He can’t remember anymore. He had dinner with Jo and then woke up here, and there was already a needle in his arm, and…

Does he deserve this, for being the reason they died?

Baby, you scared the shit out of me! I thought you’d figured out how to unlock the door or something!

“C-can’t, Mom, you, you, you need a, a key, they h-have the key and I-I-I don’t h-have my hands.” His lips are chapped and rasp against each other when they move, the blood rubbing over his bottom lip, and he flicks his dry tongue out to wet it on the bleeding spot on his lip again. He rocks, he rocks too far and cries out as the collar goes off again, forcing him to settle back and be still.

It hurts, it hurts so much, but he has to be still or it will hurt much, much worse.

Tris...

He can’t find her - she’s here, somewhere, inside the nothing-room the nothing-walls the nothing-light, but he can’t see her. She’s dead but she’s here. She’s here and she’s not angry at him, she’s playing hide-and-seek. He hid in the closet, behind her dresses, and she couldn’t see him at first and Tristan knew how to be quiet for games, and he was so very still in the closet, and then she found him and held him up in her arms, a heavy weight on her hip, you might be six years old but I can still carry you, little boy.

His breath catches in his throat.

Don’t scare Mommy like that, baby. Please, please don’t scare Mommy like that.

His eyelids are so heavy, and he keeps slumping forward, but everytime he touches the ground his shock collar goes off and if he goes too far left or right the shock collar goes off and he’s going to die in here, he knows it. He’s going to die and he doesn’t even care anymore, he’s not even scared of it.

At least he could see them, if he died. Right? He could see them again? Don’t people see the people they love right before they die, didn’t he see that somewhere on television? Maybe, maybe he could see them?

Fingertips graze over his cheeks, warm. He can almost smell her perfume, powdery. It’s called Green Tea and she buys it-

He hitches breath again, and sobs, this time.

She bought it every year at the store in the mall on sale, when they put out Christmas gift baskets. She bought that perfume in boxes with other perfumes kind of like it, and let him smell them and pick his favorite ones. He put up with the weight of the noise, even though later he would go home and rock and rock and rock it out, because the noise made her happy, and he loved her happy.

He liked her perfume. It smelled like her.

She’s never going to buy perfume again. Jo probably-... Jo probably threw out the bottle Tris kept to spray on his pillow sometimes after he had to move in with her, and it will smell like perfume in the trash for a while, it will smell like his mom, and then all the bottles will be gone and it’s like she was never there and if she was never there, does that mean-

Is Tristan gone, too?

Is he not real, now, if she isn’t real anymore?

Oh, Tris, honey, what are we going to do?

“D-don’t know, Mom, I don’t-... I don’t know.” He coughs, something feels loose in his lungs and that seems bad. But he can’t feel anything, and everything he can feel is so heightened. In the silent room he can nearly hear the soft rush of blood in his veins, the way his organs are working even though they have nothing to digest. 

He can hear her.

I missed you during your nap, bud! You don’t usually take afternoon naps anymore. Did you have good dreams?

“No.” The word comes out a whimper, a word he isn’t supposed to say anymore, the man he kicked - who put him in here until he’s ready to sign the paper and belong to them and make this all stop - told him he isn’t allowed to say ever again. 

No isn’t an option for him anymore, the man said. His options are to be good or get hurt, and he doesn’t know what that means, but, but he’s so scared, and it hurts so much being in here alone. “No, Mom, I’m, I’m, I’m… I’m not, not, not-not okay, I d-didn’t, I can’t, can’t dream anymore, can’t sleep, Mom, please, they, they they they won’t let me, me, me-me-me sleep-”

Oh, Tris. Oh, baby boy. Her voice is low, right next to him. He feels her fingers run through his hair, pressing the coppery strands, now dirty and oily, back from his forehead. The softest press of lips against his forehead, like when he had a fever, when he had to stay home sick from school. Tears burn hot in his eyes and fall down his cheeks, and he sobs, brokenly, hunched and with all his muscles burning and aching from the cold, the shocks, the hunger, the exhaustion, the pain. He cries, in childish wailing sobs, and she doesn’t hear him, because she isn’t really here.

“M-Mom, I, I, I just-... Mom-”

He’s so fucking tired, and he just wants her to stop being dead and play hide-and-seek with him and then, just one more time, hold him until he falls asleep. 

Just one more time.

Just one more-

You’re still my baby, you know, even though you insist on growing up. 

I, I, I am not, I am not-

Yes you are. Listen, you’re my baby forever.

Mom, I’m, I’m almost sixteen-

Excuse me, Tris, you are fifteen and seven months and don’t think I don’t know to the minute. Love you, buddy.

“I, I, I love you, too, Mom.”

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