#i am smart i am kind i am crying in the stall of my local movie theater during the premier of frozen 2 because there are too many people

[mollypaup]

i do have severe, crippling social anxiety but i do not have low self esteem, which is an extremely funny combination i think

[ameliajessicawilliamspond]

PART 2

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A heavy kick to his ribs was Luke Skywalker's rude awakening.

"Rise and Shine, sweetheart!" A cruel voice mocked.

"Come on, Qiler." Someone responded, exasperated.

Luke looked around the room grogily. The jedi was surrounded by five men, his hands bound above his head to an old rusty poll in a cold, dingy bunker. His head was still spinning from whatever they had given him to knock him out.

"Hey, kid!" A man to his left slapped him across the face to get his attention. "What are you doing in our territory?"

Luke bit his lip, thinking. If they knew why he was here, they might kill him. If they knew who he was, they might kill him. If he said nothing, they might kill him. Either way, this was not an ideal situation to be stuck in. His silence earned him a punch to the stomach from the larger man to his right. "My friend just asked you a question. I suggest you answer."

"Haha! Good one, Keye!" Another laughed.

"I..." Luke began before biting his tongue once more. He had to decide how best to deal with this situation. He could use the force right now, break the bonds, take these ruffians out and be done with it. After all, Din was unconscious somewhere out there in the cold; freezing, dying, alone....

But these men may be their only help around for miles. Plus, they could be the smugglers who had found the holocron, which means it could be close.

He had to be smart about this.

Luke leaned forward, his mouth open as if he was about to speak, before sighing and leaning back against the cold metal behind him. "Nah, you guys wouldn't know what I'm looking for."

"What do you mean?" The man in the middle -Qiler, he remembered the skinny one say earlier- asked.

"It's just that...well," Luke looked them up and down, wrinkling his nose. "it's above YOUR paygrade." He said, as snoody as he could, earning himself another slap across the face. Qiler grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close enough that their noses nearly touched.

"We are the famous Smugglers of Kajimi." He said, glaring into the jedi's eyes.

Luke blinked. "...Who?"

"The..." Qiler stuttered. "We're..." His grip loosened as he broke eye contact to look at his comrades. They all looked as surprised as he was. "You've never heard of us?"

"Sorry." Luke shrugged. "Must be local fame or something."

"Where are you from?" The skinny one asked.

"Ever heard of the Galatic Republic?" The jedi felt tension rush through the room at his words. "I was sent on a mission to find some artifact for them."

"What kind of artifact?" The big meaty one asked.

"Like I said, you've probably never even heard of it." Luke said, sitting back again, nonchalantly. "I mean, it's common knowledge where I'm from, but maybe not all the way out here."

Qiler reached forward at lighting speed, grabbing his jaw and pulling him close once again.

"What. Is. It?" He demanded.

Luke stared the man down for a moment before yanking his face from the man's grasp. "A Jedi Holocron."

The men looked at each other. Luke shrugged, regaining his non-chalant demeanor. "Like I said, I'm sure you've never heard of it. Why would you?" He laughed.

"Oh yeah, smartass?" Qiler yelled, turning back toward the table behind him. He reached into a drawer and pulled out an odd cube.

There it was.

Din was right. The Smugglers of Kajimi did find it. But they hadn't sold it yet!

"What do you think of that?" He said, tossing it in the air like it was a ball and not one of the rarest artifacts in the galaxy.

"I think you better give that to me so I can return it to the Republic." Luke said, his whole demeanor had changed, his tone low and serious.

Qiler let out a hearty laugh, putting it down on the table with a loud thump that made the Jedi flinch. "Empire, Republic, none of them have ever done nothing for me."

Luke took a deep breath before shrugging and leaning back against the pole that held him there, trying to regain his charade. "Oh well. The Republic would have paid you big for that, as well as for me." He made his eyes go wide, feigning surprise. "...oops."

"What was that?" Qiler asked, rising from his seat.

Luke stayed silent.

"Maskter, run a search on him." He said and the group turned their backs on him. Maskter ran through the bounty database before finally pulling up Luke's bounty.

"A jedi?" Maskter read. The group looked between each other. The bounty on him was...It was insane.

Just as they were about to round on the jedi, Luke sprang into action. He snapped his binds and stood, extending his hand and shoving the group apart with the force. He pulled Din's scarf from his back pocket and rushed forward, grabbing and wrapping the holocron in the fabric before making a break for the door.

It flew open, intense cold rushing in and wrapping around his body like frozen fingers gripping at his limbs. A sudden memory flashed through his mind of --Cold, so cold, Ben? Ben was here. Degoba? Pain, pain, pain...Han?-- He shook his head, pulling himself from the awful memory and rushed into the snow, cradling the artifact. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. He knew he had to get out of the area first, find the waterfall, get Din and get the kriff home. His mind swam with the last image of Din he had; laying on the bank, reaching for him...

Engrossed in his own worry, he missed the sudden sharp warning in the Force as something tore through his abdomen.

Luke stopped in his tracks, the air sucked out of his lungs. With wide eyes, Luke slowly looked down, his hand touching his stomach. When he pulled it away, it was wet with blood.

A bullistic. And not blaster fire, a solid bullet had gone through his body.

So, his bounty was dead or alive, then?

Luke dropped to his knees, one shaking hand gripped over the wound and the other clinging desperately to the wrapped holocron.

Behind him he heard voices. The smugglers were gaining on him.

Luke screwed his eyes shut, trying, desperately trying to push past the pain spreading through his body. He stood slowly, ever so slowly, placing the holocron down next to him.

He stretched out his fingers, trying to stall their shaking with little results. The men got closer, their voice grew louder. He raised his arms high in the air before slamming them down. The earth beneath him shook and a huge flurry of snow flew up behind him, blinding the group pursuing him. They screamed in frustration as they stumbled and got lost in the sudden snow storm.

Luke bent down, letting out a cry as his wounded side protested the movement, then ran as fast as he could. He ran and ran and ran, not caring where he ended up, he just had to away. Away from the smugglers, the bunker, the violence, the pain. He ran until his body didn't allow him to run anymore. He found a large snowbank and rushed behind it, falling behind the freezing cover, hoping it was enough to shield him from his pursuers. Luke gasped in breath after breath, trembling hands gripped against his wound, dropping the holocron next to him so both hands could put pressure on the wound. His body wouldn't respond anymore, too cold, too hurt to move. Luke choked back a sob as another rush of pain went through him.

He really hated the cold.

"I'm sorry, Din." He mumbled, before slipping into unconciousness.

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

"Luke!" Din woke with a start, the jedi's name dripping from his lips. He sat up before instantly regretting it, his aching body bringing him swiftly back to the ground.

"Well, well, the sleeping beauty awakens." A gruff voice says from behind him. He turns to see a woman entering the doorway, a pile of logs in her arms. She looked to be in her late 60's with long blue hair and shining orange eyes hidden behind the markings of wisdom her age had earned her.

"Where am I?" Din asked.

"You are a guest in my home, even if as a reluctant one." She said, tending the fire.

Din's memory began to catch up with him and he remembered his last cognitive memory; Luke being drugged and dragged away by strangers as they left him for dead. "Where is my companion?"

"I didn't seen anyone else. Although there were a lot of markings on the ground from what looked like a scuffle." She told him.

"Who's out here?" Din asked.

The woman froze for a moment. "There's been some activity around the waterfall within the last week."

"Pirates?" Din questioned.

Her glowing eyes latched onto his helmet. "The Spice Runners of Kajimi."

Din's chest tightened. If the Spice Runners discovered who he was, Luke would be in a world of danger. His face was plastered all over the bounty boards, and from what he last saw a few of those were marked "dead or alive." He stood up, rushing toward the door.

"Hey, a thank you would be nice!" The woman yelled after him.

Din froze, hand hovering over the door handle, before turning back toward his host. "How did you know to check the lake?"

The woman's eyes became distant. "I just...felt like I needed to go there." She explained slowly, like she wasn't sure what had brought her there herself. "There was this...feeling. Like the heaviness of desperation was burnt into the air, a silent voice begging for help through the wind..."

Din sucked in a breath.

--Oh, Luke...-- Din thought.

"Thank you for saving me. I have to go." He said, turning back to the door.

"This companion of yours, must be pretty important." She said. Din didn't answer. The woman stared him down, studying him before reaching down into a bag and pulling out a metal cylinder. She tossed it to the Mandalorian. Din caught it, studying the tube. It was Luke's Lightsaber.

"Found that near the lake. This friend of yours. He's one of those jedi." She said. It wasn't a question.

Din stayed silent.

"I used to run with them. I know where their base is." She said.

"Why are you helping me?" Din asked.

The woman turned her head and bit her lip, contemplating what to say. "One of his kind helped me get away from those people when they turned on me. It's only right I return the favor."

"You knew a jedi?" Din asked, stepping toward her.

"A togruta woman. She carries two of those. She was looking for someone, ended up finding me instead..." She reminisced. "But that's a story for another time." She said, making her way toward a drawer against the wall. She reached in, pulling a holomap from it, then handed it to Din. He activated it, the place where Luke was being held glowing before his eyes. He wasn't far. He thanked her again, shaking her hand. She nodded at him. "Go find your jedi."

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

Luke's could feel hands on him, shaking him back into consciousness. One was gripping his shirt, the other tapping his face. Someone was trying to wake him up.

"Din?" Luke whispered out, hoping beyond hope.

"He's alive!" Someone yelled. Luke screwed his nose up at the sound.

That wasn't Din's voice.

He was pulled roughly to his knees, the movement jostling his aching body and pulling a cry from his trembling lips.

"You wanna treat us like we're stupid?" The voice said above him, hitting him hard across the jaw. "You wanna pretend you're better than us?" He said again, a knee entering his sternum, causing the jedi to cough, blood mixed with spit falling on the prestine white snow.

"Please..."Luke begged, his body screaming against the assault.

"Oh, now you want to beg? Too late!" The man mocked. "You make a mockery of us, you don't leave alive!" He yelled. Something cold and hard was pressed against Luke's forehead.

"Hey, we may get more credits if he's alive!" Someone yelled from behind Qiler.

"No! You saw that thing he did with the snow! He's too dangerous, I want him dead!" The man screamed, beyond crazed with anger. The barrell was removed from his head, the man grabbing him by the jaw, ripping Luke's head up to look at him as a knife was pressed to his throat. "The only question is if I wanna do it fast or slow." He growled.

Before Qiler could make his desicion, the earth erupted around them.

Single spikes from what seemed to be bombs set off around the perimeter. A row of them cut off Qiler from the rest, seperating the party. Qiler looked around at the disruption before turning his wide, crazed eyes back to the jedi. "What did you do!?" He screamed. Luke was too cold, in too much pain to respond, he tried to shake his head to convey this wasn't his doing this time. Qiler hoisted Luke up by the shirt and flipped him around so that his back was flush against Qiler's chest, knife to his throat as the smuggler backed away from the commotion. Scattered screams echoed incoherently through the blinding snow as whoever was hunting them made their way through the crew.

Using the diversion to his advantage, Luke shoved the man off him with the little amount of Force he could muster, his broken body crumpled to the ground.

Qiler recovered, letting out a frustrated scream as he barrelled after the jedi. He grabbed his ankles and flipped Luke onto his back, pinning his arms above his head and digging a knee into the wound on his side, mounting him. Luke screamed, his voice cracking in the process. The knife was pressed to his throat once again, this time, drawing blood. "Bye bye, jedi." He mocked.

But his threat remained unfinished, thanks to the blaster bullet the just went through his skull. The man fell off Luke with a thump, legs still tangled around his damaged torso.

Luke didn't move, he couldn't anymore. Any adrenaline he had left was sucked dry the second he landed on the ground. He lay there, staining the white snow red like the sands of Crait, shivering so violently it could be mistaken for convulsing. He heard footsteps approaching him. Luke pinched eyes shut, waiting for whoever hunted down the smugglers to do the same to him.

"Luke?"

The jedi's eyes shot open. That voice sounded familiar.

The man kneeled down next to the fallen jedi. Luke gasped, in spite of himself as a familiar helmet came into view. "You're alive?"

Din Djarin nodded. "I told you we were getting off this blasted rock, didn't I?"

Luke's wrecked body finally caught up to him. Every nerve seemed to be frozen over, except for his side which screamed at every movement. He caught a glance at his reflection in Din's visor. His blond hair was thick and frozen, little blond icicles dipped in red from the blood that had pooled around him. His lips were purple, chapped beyond compare. His neck leaked blood from where the knife had pushed in and Luke realized this was the first time he'd ever experienced a murder attempt that was actually a threat since... He couldn't hold back the sob that escaped his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Luke, this never should of happened. I'm so, so sorry." Din said, voice shaken as he put pressure on the wound, pulling a cry from the younger man. Din shook his head. "Kark that blasted holocron, I'm taking you home."

The Holocron! Luke looked past Din, spotting the artifact still wrapped in the scarf. Luke reached toward it, trying to pull it with the Force. When the thing wouldn't budge, Luke let out a grunt of frustration, trying to sit up. Din pushed him back down. "Luke, enough, please, cyare, enough." He begged, taking Luke's shaking hand in his own.

"No, Din, please, please!" He managed to say, ripping his hand free from Din's, pointing a trembling finger at the wrapped box.

Din glanced back, spotting what had Luke's attention. "I can get another one, it's alright." He said about the scarf, continuing his field medicine.

"No, no! Please!" Luke insisted, wiggling against the pressure on his abdomen, shoving at Din's hands. Din let out a sigh as Luke stubbornly pointed at the scarf again.

"Okay. Okay, cyar'ika, alright. Put pressure on this." He instructed, guiding Luke's frozen hands to his side, pressing them into it. He stood, fingers lingering over the man's wrecked body for a moment, before turning to go. "I'll be right back." He promised.

Luke watched with greying vision as the mandolorian reached down and picked it up. With a sigh of relief, he looked back up at the sky, watching the snow fall lightly around him. He had stopped shivering, something that should have worried him more than it was. He didn't have the energy to care, he was too tired. His eyes slipped closed and he gave into oblivion.

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[TAG REQUEST! @asthefirerisesblog @reinaorgana @zarakem @16mistypaw @ryleeamberrr @bi-witch-rose @mayor-aaya @theonlyredcar @kineko123 ]

If there are any mistakes please let me know!

There will be a part 3!!!! Comment in the notes if you'd like to be tagged in it!

EDIT: Just went through and fixed a few buggy parts. Sorry, did not check this right the first time! Hopefully that's a bit better!

[moonscarsandstars]

i fell asleep on your shoulder and you were too polite to move or wake me up au. how about this one for a prompt?

If Sirius was being truly honest, he was exhausted.

Stifling yawns and catching overpriced coffees wherever he could didn’t seem to do the trick, so Sirius was left dragging his suitcase in the hopes that he could just possibly catch a nap on the flight home. It hadn't particularly helped that he'd explored the city all night, meeting locals and trying out foods from night stalls. Or that he'd stayed awake far past the morning alarms set to wake him up.

But a solo trip to France that was, for once, free of the formalities and complaints of his family, had so been worth it.

“Sir? Boarding pass?”

“Oh- so sorry,” said Sirius, snapping out of his sleepy daze and urgently digging through his pockets before dropping three pens and presenting a slightly crumpled boarding pass. “Here it is.”

The lady accepted it with no comment, apparently ignorant of Sirius's hectic struggle to pick the pens up, before giving him a nod.

“Thanks,” Sirius said to not much avail.

With a sigh, he clambered up the ramp, his heavier-than-ever suitcase trailing pathetically after him, and before he knew it, was sunk in his seat, not caring about the plastic wrapped blanket and headphones he'd shoved onto the floor and the suitcase uncomfortably heaved onto his lap.

And he might've fallen asleep for a couple seconds, before an equally tired and flat voice woke him up.

“Exhausted, huh?”

“Who's there-” started Sirius hazily.

Half-heartedly putting his hands up in accusation, a man next standing at his seat gave a small chuckle. “Just sitting next to you is all.”

“I'd say that's allowed.”

“Why thank you,” said the man, dragging a hand through loose golden curls. Freckles were splattered across his skin and his eyes seemed to reflect the same golden brown as his ruffled up curls. And at Sirius's tired smile, wrinkles appeared in the corners of his grin. If Sirius was being honest, he thought he was really lucky to have landed this seat.

“Sirius Black,” said Sirius, smiling at the man as he shuffled into his seat. “That's my name.”

The man replied with a smile, and extended his arm. “Remus Lupin.”

It took Sirius all of five seconds to realise that the extended arm was an invite for a handshake, and blushed in faint embarrassment as he awkwardly took Remus's hand.

“Sorry, sorry. Really sleepy.”

“Aren't we all?”

“I'd say so,” said Sirius, looking around to face dreary passengers with a yawn. “Didn't sleep much last night.”

“Any reason?”

“Was the last day on my first solo trip, of course I wasn't going to stay inside and sleep. So worth it, though.”

“If I were you, I'd wait 'til the babies start crying and giving you a headache to say that.”

“One could always hope,” groaned Sirius, stretching his arms up, just possibly catching Remus's eyes slip down to his lifted shirt and bare waist.

Pulling his backpack onto his lap, Remus chuckled quietly. “I suppose.”

For a moment, Sirius's eyes widened- as wide as they could go, really, in such a sleepy state- as he watched Remus draw a book from his bag. Maybe it was the sleepiness, but Sirius couldn't help his pure confusion at someone who didn't want to use this time to catch some blissful rest.

“You're not going to sleep?” He blurted out, his voice beginning to drag.

“I never really can sleep on flights, so I always come well prepared,” replied Remus simply, holding up his book. Wuthering Heights. Sirius recognised it as one of the books he could never truly get past a few pages of. Regulus used to love those kinds.

“Really smart of you.”

That smile came back. “Why, thank you, I'm sure you're not too bad yourself.”

“You're speaking to the man who wandered around the city the night before an early morning flight.”

“Oh well,” replied Remus with a smile. “One could always hope”

Replying gracefully with a rather loud yawn, Sirius gave the man an apologetic look, eyes drooping. “As lovely as this has been, I think I’m going to turn in now.”

“Oh, sure,” said Remus, with another one of those smiles that Sirius figured made him feel warm even in the cold of the airplane. “Hope you sleep well.”

The loud hum of the plane’s take off was starting, and a quiet bit of anxiety settled somewhere in Sirius’s mind. But he was too tired to mind it much, and too close to Remus to truly fear of anything. And there was something about Remus that made Sirius believe this would be the best flight ever.

~~~

If Remus was being truly honest, he had no idea what to do.

Usually, he was too busy panicking over everything and nothing to hold interesting conversations with hot strangers. Or have them fall asleep on his shoulder. But here he was.

The man- Sirius- seemed thoroughly exhausted, having slept through turbulence that had almost driven Remus up the walls. In a way, Remus was jealous of him for being able to catch a more than a mere wink of sleep on a flight.

With his breathing so steady and his expression void of any worry he may have had, Remus truly hadn’t the heart to wake him up. Not when Remus’s meal came, not when his leg started cramping up, and definitely not when he needed the next book from his stowed away bag, no matter how suspenseful the last one had left him.

But Remus snapped out of his thoughts as he felt Sirius stirring, pushing away the strands of hair falling onto his face. Silently, he thought it was adorable the way Sirius seemed to look almost confused as his eyes began to flutter open and he shifted around.

With a sudden push and a jolt from his side, Sirius woke up in almost a scream. That turned into a groan. That turned into a whimper as his exquisite sleeping arrangement came back to him.

“Oh fuck- I didn’t did I?” Asked Sirius, wincing a little as he put the pieces together.

“You might have. Just a little bit.”

“I am so, so sor-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you looked exhausted anyway. I’m glad you got some sleep, really.”

“Still I-”

“No ‘but’s, it’s really alright.”

And then he broke out the grin. That grin. The one that Remus would’ve gone weak at the knees over if he weren’t sitting in a cramped up seat. He was half convinced Sirius, knew fully well that his hopefully light blush refused to die out. Although, maybe it was just the dim lights and drowsiness playing him, but there was a certain blush that lingered on Sirius’s cheeks too. Unless he was overthinking it.

“Well- thank you, I suppose, for having a comfortable shoulder.”

Remus burst out into chuckles. “No problem, no problem at all. Besides, I’m sure yours is just as comfortable.”

“I’d offer to test that out, but-”

“But? Are you refusing your shoulder to me?”

“I wouldn’t deprive you of such joy,” said Sirius, in a way that made Remus hope no one was listening in on this conversation.

“Maybe I’ll test it out later, if you’re lucky.” Remus stretched his arms and fought hard not to kick himself once the words had left his lips.

“If I’m lucky?”

“That depends,” said Remus. There was an odd sort of sparkle in Sirius’s eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. With an invitation at the tip of his tongue, he asked, “Where are you headed?”

[thatpinkbetch]

Bkdk Fic Rec

I’ve been inspired to write a fic rec! This one goes out to you @lonely-rabbit

At like, the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019 I stayed up until 4am every night reading fics, and because I’m such a loser, I made a word doc to keep track of all of them so I wouldn’t forget them.... I tried organizing it by length but it got messy cause I’m ridiculous and cluttered, so sorry! (I’ll save my own for the end alskdjflsdkfj gotta self promote you know). This is going to get...really long, so I’ll put it under a read more! Also, just a heads up, these are all on ao3, in case that’s important to anyone!

Disclaimer: Any fics with mature or explicit content I will add a bolded warning for, even if it’s only a little bit. Normally most fics will be tagged as such, but some fics that are rated as teen I’ve found to be more suggestive than some of those rated as mature, so I will try to point it out where it feels necessary, for anyone who wishes to avoid it.

Fics under 1k:

Illuminate by TheQueen (269 words)

Summary: Bakugou watches the first firework launch and fights to keep his face neutral

Very short, plot is about a case of amnesia, also very cute and well written for that length! Not angsty at all imo

sweaty hands holding secrets - shounentwink (563 words)

Summary: Someone said Midoriya holds secrets in his hair.

It’s not true: He holds it tightly in his hands. Bakugou’s seen it.

I really like this writer! You’ll see quite a bit of them in this post alkdsjfalskdjf

Fics 1k - 10k:

Many sunflowers later - Jeka (2395 words)

Summary: Scholar Midoriya Izuku comes back to the person he left behind after his journey through the kingdom, the mighty dragon clan leader Bakugou Katsuki.

Day 1 of Twin Stars Week 2020: Fantasy AU.

First of all, fantasy au!!! Second of all, jeka!!! (I need to read more of your stuff!!) Anyways, so cute, such lovely, pretty writing, wonderful story telling, and they’re so in love TT_TT

Boom Badoom Boom - warschach (3429 words)

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

This one’s a little silly but I love it still. It’s got a “kids in the 80′s over summer vacation” vibe, I think. I love warschach! I should read more of their writing... They have SUCH good bakudeku content! *It’s rated teen but there’s some suggestive content, just a heads up!

Hopeless Ramen-tic - lalazee (7155 words)

Summary:  Midoriya is a cute guy who works at a ramen stall and Bakugou is thirsty as hell, but has to hide it by being an asshat. Another love story.

Ah, so good TT_TT so much sass, such good plot development and story telling for a simple concept *It’s rated as teen but again, it can be suggestive at times!

I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind - yabakuboi (3508 words)

Suammry: For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

So soft, so sweet, so good if you just want to curl up in a comfy blanket and drink hot cocoa and feel warm and cozy and a little in love

The Secret Deku Box - yabakuboi (2241 words)

Summary: “Y’know, Bakugou never, ever talks about girls,” Kaminari says, his voice thoughtful.

“And I wonder why that is.” Ashido rolls her eyes.

“I’m just curious!” Kaminari whines. Kirishima drags the box out, unlabeled and unassuming, the lid not even fully clasped over the edges. “The guy has to— Whoa, what’s that?”

Kirishima realizes a little belatedly that this is a serious breach of privacy, and Bakugou will actually murder all of them. “Nothing!” he cries, attempting to shove it back under the bed, but Ashido snatches it away.

“Please be his porn stash!” Kaminari whispers as she whips the lid off.

Cute, funny, in canon, in character, and a must read I would say! 

daisy bunches and heather branches - halcyonwhispers (5862 words)

Summary:  izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

Not another flower/tattoo shop au.... aldskjflaskdjfd Okay but punk!Bakugou is ALWAYS a smart move imo

the best part of me (is the worst I can give) - halcyonwhispers (5668)

Summary: Whole sentences usually make up people’s Words, but Katsuki got stuck with a name instead.

Izuku’s name.

I am such a sucker for soulmate aus when it comes to these boys TT_TT *There is some mature content, just a heads up!

Hard to Say - halcyonwhispers (8390 words)

Summary: Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.

Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.

Or,

two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.

I am ALSO a sucker for fantasy/mythical creatures au and I LOVED this one - Bakugou absolutely unable to handle how cute Midoriya is? Perfection - but it’s unfinished, and I don’t think it ever will be continued, unfortunately TT_TT

lots to unpack (throw away the whole suitcase) - shounentwink (4315 words)

Summary: “How’d you know?” Midoriya asks.

There’s a hunch to his shoulders that wasn’t there three hours ago. Freckled shoulders are kissed sunburnt and red: he looks like someone ran him over and left him like roadkill in the sunlight. Bakugou’s working with insurance today, but he could see the sparks of green lightning even from his elevated position in their shared agency. Midoriya’s holding his thumb, cracking it over and over — it looks like he’s rubbed it raw.

“Dunno,” Bakugou says. “Maybe you’re just easy to read, nerd.”

I love this one so much, it was one of the first ones I read, it’s so good, and it’s another that really affected how I view their relationship! Idk this one just hit for me

hang the moon from us (it’s a no from me) - shounentwink (1200 words)

Summary: Midoriya’s gonna get sick of Bakugou one of these days, and then the whole ruse will be over, and the balance of power will tilt beyond salvation, but that day isn’t today and it looks like Bakugou knows it.

What an asshole.

Once again, I’m a sucker for the fantasy au... But even more, the diction, the details, the imagery...it’s absolutely all stunning here. I wish I could write this pretty

In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv - Erina (5862 words) This is the first one of a series called The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency!

Summary:  Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

I’ll admit I’ve only read the first three but by god they are the funniest fics I’ve ever read in my life. I see that Erina has added more since the last time I checked it out! Tbh I was only interested in reading the purely bakudeku ones... (My favorite was the second one!! SO funny and cute!)

i still do - raeryn (9646 words)

Summary:  He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count. In which a battle leaves Bakugou Katsuki with amnesia, and Izuku finds himself picking up the pieces.

So, this one makes me cry. TT_TT

One Thing Straight - winningshot (9899 words)

Summary: They totally aren't.

Hints of their relationship is found in all of their friends’ social media accounts, but majority of their fans still think that Katsuki and Izuku are in relationships with anybody but each other.

It was amusing up until it became sad.

Lmao it’s a little salty but I guess I can be too. This is a social media fic! There’s multiple ships in this one, too

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8472 words)

Summary: Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Okay kewltie is SO GOOD and very creative! The formatting is phenomenal, it’s like you’re actually experiencing a social media melt down in real time lol

be my good luck charm - writedeku (6785 words)

Summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

Oh I adore this one! It’s so cute and such a good narrative! Nice and warm, and Bakugou trying his damnedest to be suave, and it somehow working because Midoriya is just as flustered. *Another one rated as teen but some suggestive content.

Smells Like Victory - majjale (2377 words)

Summary: Bakugou takes two steps into the room and stops, clapping a hand over his nose. “Ugh, what stinks like Deku in here?”

"Good afternoon, Bakugou. That would be the amortentia."

I must admit, not a fan of HP, but majjale...TT_TT majjale writes these two boys so well. This one is really, really good!

Cherish Me - Justaperson1718 (2376 words)

Summary: “What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

This is a sequel to a fic that’ll be in the next section, because it’s longer, called Manage Me. Please read that one first before this one! (Not part of a series, but they’re the same story line)

Fascinating - Justaperson1718 (1556 words)

Summary: “I’m not staring at you,” Izuku replied, his eyes focused intently on Katsuki. He’s still wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in their shared bed. He was awake moments before Katsuki, and waited eagerly for the other to awake.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder after his shirt was on and glared. “You’re fucking staring at me right now.”

Izuku shook his head, humming his disapproval quietly. “I’m watching you.”

“That’s the same damn thing,” Katsuki said while searching for a pair of pants in the dresser. “Your eyes are fixated on me like I’m your life’s fucking goal or some shit.”

“I just like watching you get dressed.” Izuku tilted his head to the side and smiled softly at Katsuki’s confused stare. “I know, it’s weird. But I like it.”

*There is a little bit of implied mature content, but overall, it’s just so sweet and intimate, and I just simply adore this one.

in a place once filled with gold - dorenamryn (9226 words)

Summary: It felt strange to remember such details, for they were things a friend should know, and as far as Katsuki was concerned, he and Deku hadn’t been friends in a very, very long time. He could admit, with reluctance, that they were on the path there, now, even though they would never make it. Katsuki would die before they could get the chance.

or: There is a garden growing in Katsuki’s lungs, and he is helpless to stop it.

“Hanahaki disease” okay, I can explain myself. Okay, I can’t. In any case, you got angst with a happy ending if that’s what you’re into!

Kaleidoscope - DPRenFTW (5141 words)

Summary: Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.

And Izuku thinks:

"Oh, it's him."

Just as beautiful and fascinating as the name implies! I seriously recommend for the beautiful writing, the gorgeous world, the mythical creatures au, and the lovely bakudeku romance!

Learning Curve - sensiblysilly (4222 words)

Summary: Deku and Katsuki’s first kiss goes rather differently than planned.

And Katsuki’s quickly learning that relationships can be unpredictable - especially when taking into account the variable that is Midoriya Izuku.

This really is just a careful handling of a teenage romance where perhaps one of them may have shit they’re still working through. It’s really sweet, and a careful study at boundaries and the building of a relationship. I actually stumbled across this while looking for another with the same name and ended up pleasantly surprised. Kacchan can has a little validation, as a treat.

4/20 is a national holiday - Ereri_Garbage (

Summary: Izuku is a drug dealer that doesn't really accept the fact he's a drug dealer, Katsuki is hot as hell as shouldn't be allowed a facebook.

Happy (Late) birthday Katsuki and happy (late) 4/20. I actually half assed an edit on this one so it took longer to post than I thought it would.

Uummmm lmao yes I have a sense of humor. ;ALDSKJFLSKDJF Okay, I say that, but this is not a crack fic, it’s a good story that I enjoy with good writing, and *it has mature, content, obviously for multiple reasons here. It’s rated as mature but there are borderline explicit moments imo. It’s a fun fic and funny, too! And, ngl, it really does remind me of college... But forget about me, the bakudeku is wonderful too of course :)

Drinking Watermelon - warschach (8906 words)

Summary: For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Love it when people have Bakugou as absolutely enamored with Midoriya; it’s so good and true. Anyways this one makes me like summer camp story lines. It’s funny and also cute and great writing! *It’s got explicit content, just a heads up. Warschach stories just have this youthful 80′s vibe, I don’t know how else to explain it.

there are listed buildings - semiautomatichearts (3309)

Summary: Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Ah...soulmates :) So interesting how bakudeku fits into soulmate aus like this one when they’ve known each other as kids! And when they’ve had this complex push and pull thing going on all their lives! The writing is beautiful, and so is the story!

Promise Ring - bkdkwritingsdump (3579)

Summary:  The midwest in the 1950′s is no place for boys who like kissing boys: something Izuku and Katsuki know all too well growing up there. However, the undeniable bond between the nervous science geek and the aloof delinquent will still find a way to blossom in such a desert.

Cute, sweet, makes my gay heart ache. Longing not just for the one you love, but just to feel right loving them. Very pretty story line, lovely story telling!

Fics 10k - 30k:

Fishy - warschach (19417 words)

Summary: Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

Another warschach! I love this one, I love how they write bakudeku, particularly as college students, their stories (at least, the ones that I’ve read) always feel so warm, like a summer’s day, but not a lazy one, one that’s playful? If that makes sense? *This one is explicit, another heads up!

Manage Me - Justaperson1718 (10756 words)

Summary: Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

Love the story, love the bakudeku! Very, very good bakudeku TT_TT very sweet *There is some mature content in here as well

point to a map (we’ve been there) - cosmicfuss (10589 words)

Summary: Serendipity / sĕr″ən-dĭp′ĭ-tē Serendipity is the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery. Two men find themselves on a subway, hot coffee on one while the other is in the middle of a screaming match. After that they can't seem to stop finding each other, no matter how far they go.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this fic owns my entire soul. I love the story, the ease of their relationship, just how lovely they are together. It’s another kind of nice, fluffy fic you’d read on a bad day where you come home and curl up in a blanket and listen to a ten hour video of thunderstorm white noise. *Again, some more mature content in here

Partners - tsukithewolf (13619 words) Another series! Two parts to this one this time

Summary: It is said that in Musutafu there is a charm that one can buy at a temple that will lead you to your destined partner. They say that if the charm works, you would be able to follow the red string of fate to the person you were meant to be with. And if the person returns your feelings, they would be able to see the string as well, proving that both were meant to be.

Three-year-old Katsuki and Izuku misunderstand what the word "partner" means and discover the charm and the rumor behind it is not only true, but more than expected.

Gets a little heavy, depression, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc. But it must get worse before it gets better, that kind of thing. I also just adore the second part (called Bond) - maybe because it’s much fluffier, what about it?

Learning Curve - iknewaman (10304 words)

Summary: “Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.‘

Really?’

*

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favour-- or well, is prompted into asking for a favour.

Ah, I really want to explain this one a little bit? I’d never been into fanfiction ever, only really getting into it with these boys. This was the second one I read, I remember, and it caught me off guard, and it intrigued me. It really surprised me as to what fanfiction could be. Ngl I had biased perceptions of fanfics - I used to be one of those people who thought fanfiction could never be good writing - and this one slapped me in the face with it’s subtle beauty and creative story and heart melting capabilities, and very, very real relationship and growth. Anyways it’s so cute how happy Deku is to teach Kacchan sign language TT_TT Make sure to read the tags!

The Keeper and the Sun God’s Heir - SurelyHeavenWaits (12746 words)

Summary:  The Titans' have stolen something important from Izuku, heir of the Sun God, and he wants it back.

This one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one this one- Oh my god this one. Okay so what, I was a Percy Jackson kid, what about it? I love the mythical aus, particularly the god ones. But beyond that, the writing is so beautiful, just like the world, and the imagery. The bakudeku...absolutely stunning. The story itself? Incredible. Cannot recommend more. *There is explicit content in this, though I will say, it’s all in the last chapter, and all of the story is in the first two chapters. There’s also a second part as it’s a series and it’s short but it’s cute and sweet TT_TT

seven days - aaAAAaaahhhhHHHHH (10094 words)

Summary: There’s something about the green haired boy, an aura that just drew Katsuki in before he even knew his name.

[Sometimes your mind forgets, but your heart remembers]

Heed my warning: DON’T read this in front of other people. I bawl every time I read this one TT_TT I know I said I don’t like angst but AJLSKDFJALSKDFJ it has a hopeful ending! I mean yeah you’re gonna cry but...hope? :’) (that username really says it all tbh)

Fics 30k+

Notice me, nerd - useless_donut (40000 words)

Summary: Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out.

Will the class of 3-A survive the sexual tension? Who will snap first? Someone put Bakugou out of his misery, please, before everyone else dies of second-hand embarrassment.

(a love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A)

Love the idea of Bakugou being brazen and brash, cause yeah, he is. So fucking funny though how that translates to him flirting. Gotta say, thought I was gonna cringe, but his “I’m gay af” outfit really ended up being A Look. Love the mutual pining, it really is strong in this one. *Okay, mature content in this one lads.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71197 words)

Summary: The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

Update: Epilogue added

*This one has mature content. If you can, please, for the love of god, read this fic. It’s like, tied with my favorite bkdk fic perhaps ever. It’s based on the movie of the same title, a nineties romcom with Sandra Bullock, but Belkacaramelka has so effortlessly made it into it’s own story, fit it so perfectly inside of the bnha world. I definitely stayed up until 6:30am reading this one. It’s got such good badass Midoriya, who is also sweet, and really really good reconciliation between bakudeku.

All Gifted - fitzefitcher (39129 words)

Summary: The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.

Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.

This one is unfinished...and I highly doubt it will ever be. But what has been written is incredible. Once again, I’m a sucker for the magic/mythical creatures aus. But the relationship is great! The characterization is great! The found family trope that was building up is great!

under a hollow sun - umbrage (40572 words)

Summary: Midoriya is cursed with emptiness.

Misfortune leads him to a man of ancient magic and endless rage.

To stop an unfathomable evil, their mismatched halves must become whole.

Uuuggghhhh this was so good! I don’t think it’s going to be finished either :( Once again, fantasy au, more amazing writing, on point characterization, incredible pacing, makes you hungry for more story.

all the savage soul requires - majjale (58032 words)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

This is majjale, so of course, the writing is more than beautiful; it’s absolutely breathtaking. This may be my favorite fic ever - unfortunately I don’t think it will ever be finished either TT_TT There’s the gods/fantasy au, which you know by now I love. But the characterization of our two boys is absolutely perfect, and I mean that as literally as possible. And the story being crafted between the two, the memory loss, the obvious history muddled by it all, it was so dense, and the PINING, so incredibly written, flowing so naturally. It wasn’t even close to being done, but it was wonderful, still is wonderful. 

My Writing: (You can skip this if you hate shameless self promotion)

You’re too damn flicking cute (1815 words)

Summary:  Bakugou is certain his shitty boyfriend is instigating kisses. Maybe it doesn't help that he keeps giving them away like it's a damn going out of business sale, but the stupid nerd is too fucking cute. Either way, like everything else, this is a competition, and he's going to win it.

Please don’t read this unless you’re going to the dentist afterwards! I’ve been told it’s so sweet it’ll give you instant cavities >_>;;;;

Bakugou Katsuki, you smooth motherfucker (10118 words)

Summary: Everyone around him knows that Bakugou Katsuki has a very special way with words. To the untrained ear he is loud and crass; to those that speak Kacchan, he is caring and inspiring. Yet there are rare moments, moments so fleeting you blink and you miss them, where Bakugou’s words pierce straight through Midoriya’s chest, and surprise everyone around him.

Goddammit, if only he would say them to Midoriya’s face.

Or, the five times Bakugou said something nice about Midoriya, and the one time he said something kind to him (but that was too long of a title).

I think most would consider this my best published fic; it’s one of those snapshot fics, “the five times where x did this, and the one time where they didn’t.” The recurring comment I get on this one is both of them being super in character, so I think that’s it’s defining characteristic! Bakugou and Midoriya have never known a life without the other, and in a perfect world, they never will.

Here, let me fix that (11247 words)

Summary: Bakugou honestly never thought he’d see Deku ever again. And now that they were together in this tiny compartment, alone for the next two and a half minutes, he had no clue what to say. He’d just apologized, right? So perhaps he could leave it at that and carry on with the original plan to never see the green-haired man that reminded him of dense forests, late night adventures, and tear-stained faces, ever again.

Ha! Who is he kidding? These bitches are soulmates.

I’ve gotten some critiques on this one, so sorry in advance if it’s not to your liking! Basically, what if Midoriya never got his quirk? Obviously, life would find a way to put them together because, as previously stated, these bitches are soulmates.

Plenty of Time (16654 words)

Summary: Bakugou found what little sleep he got restless and filled with nightmares that he forgot the second he opened his eyes. Tonight was the first time in a long time where he just had a normal dream - and it happened to be about Deku.

How fucking typical.

In other words, two dorks realize they have feelings for each other but don't know what to do about said feelings.

Ah, my first fic. Very simple, boys being boys, kinda like a slow burn? Idk how to explain this one, just boys figuring out their feelings and trying to figure out what to do about them. Been told these two are a little stupid but I think that’s valid.

We’re all time bombs waiting to explode (39223 words)

Summary: We have now entered the slipstream of time, into an alternate dimension where it neither is, nor isn’t, the 80’s. Two teenagers, burdened with the weight of adolescence in the modern world, find themselves struggling side by side, in part because of each other.

Bakugou, the most popular boy in school, has everything he could possibly want; status, power, and an unbreakable will. Having been dragged along behind him all the way to the top, Midoriya can’t help but wonder how (and why) he ended up standing beside his childhood friend-turned bully-turned friend again, weighed down by their complicated past and present. As the tension between them grows every day, and the arrival of a new, pretty face causes it to peak, it won’t be long before something - or someone - snaps.

I am...very bad at titles, and summaries apparently. This was my Heathers au, but it very quickly diverges from the original (I don’t do sad endings....) *This one has mature content, including implied sexual activity, drug use, and underage drinking, along with other heavy topics; please read the tags! Though tbh Midoriya is 17 for a couple weeks before it hits his birthday halfway through, so keep that in mind I guess? I kind of went heavy with this one, but I think the pay off was immense. This is the one with the most amount of comments stating it’s their favorite bkdk fic ever (and I cry). It’s a rough start, with a rough journey, but so is bakudeku! There’s a lot of petty drama, and then all of a sudden it’s Not That Petty and very much Far Too Real. Many have cried reading the ending, I cried writing it. My sister says it’s her favorite of mine. Now, I did kind of push this out without polishing it so much because I was losing my willpower, so if it feels lacking, that’s one hundred percent my fault.

Okay that was a lot! It took me a couple days...I hope I wasn’t too annoying with all my opinions! Please have a nice day. and enjoy some good reads, even if they aren’t the ones in this post!

[missperfectlyfine13]

In the garden would you trust me?

Summary: So, it's been a while since I've posted any writing, but the other day inspiration finally struck. I've always thought about how it would be fun to write a story inspired by the folklore love triangle and I finally came up with (hopefully) a good way to do it!

This story will be 3 parts - one part from Betty's perspective, one from August's, and one from James'.

But here's the twist - I am writing James as a girl. I know that Taylor has said that James is a teenage boy, but I'm taking a little creative liberty here. Hopefully it's well received!

So here goes nothing - part one is below!

*********

(Betty's POV)

The sound of metal clinking rings through the soft, late summer breeze. Betty squints, trying to determine what she’s actually looking at in her biology book. The bright sunlight against the glossy finish of the paper makes it nearly impossible to make out much of anything. As she strains to see the blurry image of cell, a swift wind sweeps through, whipping Betty’s papers into the air. She audibly grunts, studying outside seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she’s not sure.

Before she can think of standing up from the picnic table, a slender hand slides her papers back onto her book. Betty glances up, meeting the bluest pair of eyes she’s ever seen. The taller girl sits down opposite her, and Betty takes a moment to study her. Her wind-swept blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and her eyes glimmer almost magically back at Betty. She’s wearing an orange t-shirt with the number 8 printed in the upper right corner, the words Tigersprinted across her chest. She’s definitely a soft ball player, but shouldn’t she be over on the field across the way, with all her teammates?

“You’ve got to watch the wind when you study outside,” the girl finally speaks, a small smirk on her face, “I’m James by the way.”

“James? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Betty replies before she can stop herself, but she quickly realizes it was a little rude, and she blushes shyly, “Also, why aren’t you on the field?”

“Well, you’re full of questions,” James chuckles, and her laugh may be the sweetest sound Betty has ever heard, “My parents wanted a boy, but they got me. So, my name is James. As far as your second question, we’re taking a break. I was walking over to the bathroom when I saw your papers take flight.”

“Sorry,” Betty says, still blushing, she can’t believe she let herself say that to a complete stranger.

“Don’t be sorry,” James replies sweetly, a hand still lying on top of her biology worksheets.

“Thank you for saving my homework,” the blonde’s hand on her work reminds her to thank the other girl.

“No problem…” James falters for a moment and lightly laughs once again, “I don’t think I got your name?”

“Betty.”

James gives her a toothy grin in return, “Betty. I like that. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“My family just moved here, I’m new to the school,” Betty explains, glad they are finally on to a new topic and her rude remarks seem to be forgotten.

“Ah gotcha,” James nods knowingly, “how do you like it so far?”

“It’s alright, everyone seems pretty friendly,” Betty looks down at her book, fidgeting with the dog-eared corners, “my classes seem ok, it’s just hard to transfer schools your junior year, you know?”

“I totally get it,” James replies, after intently listening to every word Betty spoke, “well, I know it’s hard to make friends at this stage in the game, so consider me one,” the other girl’s hand lifts off the stack of worksheets and across the table into Betty’s space.

Betty can’t help the broad smile that spreads across her face as she grasps onto James’s hand, “Thanks.”

“James!” a deep male voice strikes the calm afternoon air.

“Oh, that’s me,” James stands up and Betty quickly realizes how tall the girl is, “I’ve got to get back over there, but I’ll see you around?”

Betty nods, “Definitely!”

“Oh wait! Once more thing,” James blindly reaches for a pen off the table and grabs Betty’s hand back into hers.

Betty can’t stop her cheeks from turning a rosy pink at the feeling of ten numbers being etched onto her skin.

“That’s my phone number,” James drops her hand and the pen, before turning around to head back to the softball diamond, “you better text or call!”

“I will,” Betty replies shyly as James sprints back over to her team.

******

“Betty, Betty, BETTY!”

Betty is finally jolted back to reality. She quickly glances up from her desk, her math teacher standing over her with a worried look on her face. Betty quickly takes stock of what has just happened. The classroom is empty, there are tears staining her cheeks and the desk below her and not a single answer is written out on the test paper in front of her. This day just keeps getting better.

“I’m sorry,” she quietly mutters, grabbing the blank sheet to place it in her teacher’s hand, accepting her failure this time.

“Betty,” Ms. Davidson’s voice sounds soft and concerned, and she places the blank sheet back in front of Betty, “what’s wrong?”

The brunette shakes her head, not willing to commiserate with anyone, especially not a teacher, “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, considering you just cried your way through the first test of the year and didn’t fill out a single answer,” she still looks overly concerned.

Betty sighs, “I just got some bad news this morning and it kind of threw me a little. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you’re a smart girl,” Ms. Davidson replies kindly, kneeling down in front of Betty’s desk, meeting her still teary eyes, “and I don’t want you to start off the year with a 0 in my class. How about you come back during your study hall and try taking this test again?”

Betty nods enthusiastically, “Thank you Ms. Davidson. That would be great.”

Ms. Davidson stands back up and gives her a small pat on the shoulder, “Whatever that boy did, isn’t worth all these tears.”

Betty nods with a small frown…more like whatever she did, “I know.”

“I’ll see you during study hall,” she says before Betty grabs her books and heads out the door.

Betty walks briskly down the hall towards her locker, weaving in and out, around the other students. She doesn’t want to risk running into James right now, it’s not something she can handle. Not after what Inez told her this morning.

A fresh wave of tears form behind her eyes, just thinking of the terrible encounter. The bubbly, blonde gossip had been standing by her locker before she even got there. Before Betty could even put in her combination, Inez was talking a mile a minute. She didn’t gather the whole situation with how quickly the other girl was talking. She did pick up the most important part though. Apparently, James was seen out with some other girl, from a neighboring school’s softball team. They were at the local diner, sharing a sundae and according to Inez, they looked “pretty cozy”.

Betty wants so badly to not believe it, but it adds up. James has been so distant for most of the summer. They’ve only been in school for a month and Betty just chalked it up to senior year stress. It’s James’s last softball season and she knows how badly she wants to do good. Very quickly though, texts became less frequent, excuses were made when Betty asked to hang out. That’s why she’s sure it has to be true, even though Inez’s sources aren’t always that reliable.

“Betty!” the last person she wants to hear calling her name pulls her out of her thoughts.

Before James has a chance to reach her, she’s on the move, heading towards the bathroom nearest to her locker. She can sense the tall blonde behind her, but pushes past the door of the bathroom before James can catch up. Betty flies into the stall at the far end of the room, putting the toilet seat lid down and sitting. She’s tries her best to keep her tears at bay, but soon enough she sees a worn pair of converse on the floor in front of her stall.

“Go away James,” Betty says curtly, clutching her books tightly to her chest, putting all her focus on making her voice sound steady.

“Betty…please,” James’s voice sounds desperate – almost sad, a tone she’s not used to hearing from the blonde, “let me explain.”

“I think Inez did enough explaining already,” Betty can’t stop her voice from shaking this time and she knows James heard.

She hears James sigh, and her head thud lightly against the door of the stall, “Please…Betty, baby…”

“DON’T call me that,” she’s surprised by how firm her voice was that time, but something about the pet name sets her insides aflame.

A loud clatter rings through the small space and Betty sees James’s skateboard hit the floor, followed by James herself. She sits cross legged in front of the stall, Betty can only see her legs, clad in ripped blue jeans.

“I’m not leaving until you let me talk to you,” James says stubbornly, but Betty can hear the way her voice is shaking now too.

“Well then it looks like we’re both going to be here for a while, I hope you’re ok with skipping 2nd period,” Betty spits back out just as stubbornly.

“I wish I could see your face, but I guess I’ll just say my piece through the door,” James sighs once again.

Betty doesn’t want to hear what she has to say, but on the same hand, she supposes it has to happen and she’s not sure she can bear to look James in the eyes when it does. Her response is silence and James takes that as her go ahead.

“I didn’t want you to find out like that,” James says almost timidly after about 30 more seconds of silence.

The soft admittance digs the knife in so deep Betty feels like she can’t breathe for a moment, a whole new batch of hot, angry tears already pouring down her cheeks, “So it’s true.”

She can hear James sniffle and she knows that she’s crying too, “I’m so sorry Betty.”

“Why?” Betty can’t hold her emotions at bay any longer and a choked sob follows the one-word question.

“It just happened, I don’t even know,” James is floundering but not coming up with any valid reasons, “but believe me, I feel terrible. I feel so guilty, it’s been eating me alive.”

“Then why did you keep doing it?” Betty replies almost venomously, you wouldn’t know she was crying by the tone of her voice.

James’s quiet sniffles have turned into full blown sobs and Betty can barely understand her lame excuse of a response, “I don’t know.”

“Who is she?” Betty asks coldly, she has to know.

“Her name is August,” James manages to choke out, “I met her in softball this summer. She doesn’t go here.”

Betty suddenly feels so angry she can barely keep her body from shaking. She pulls at the delicate chain around her neck, a necklace James got her shortly after they started dating. Betty yanks at the little gold heart until the chains breaks free from her neck, and she tosses it under the door at the other girl.

“Obviously, you realize we’re no longer going to homecoming together this weekend right?” Betty asks dryly, her hands still shaking, she’s surprised she hasn’t dropped the books in her lap.

Betty can see James delicately grab the broken chain and pendant off the floor, followed by another small sob, “Can’t we just try and work this out?”

“How could you possibly think we can work this out, when you can’t even give me a good reason?” her voice sounds tired and sad, so very sad, exactly how she feels on the inside, Betty’s not sure she can make it through the rest of this day.

James doesn’t respond, just quietly weeps on the other side of the door. Betty has had enough, she needs to leave this bathroom – now. She stands up and smooths out the wrinkles in her yellow sundress, trying to salvage what little dignity she has left. She swings the door open and James looks momentarily surprised.

“Move,” Betty doesn’t even make eye contact, but the tall blonde listens to her and scoots to the side, so Betty can walk past and out the door.

Betty doesn’t even look back once, because if she did, she would never leave this room.

******

It’s nothing short of a miracle that Betty even makes it through the rest of the day. It was a constant battle of holding back her tears and trying to avoid her ex-girlfriend, all while trying to function. She’s sure she still bombed that math test, even with the extra chance to put answers on the paper.

When she gets home, she bypasses going inside. She knows she won’t be able to avoid her mother’s questioning gaze. That alone will make her start bawling and she can’t bear to tell the story one more time today. Instead, she heads past the gate leading to the backyard and straight to her garden. The one spot in this entire world where she feels truly at peace. She hopes it can bring her that same sense of relief today.

As soon as she flops her bag down in the grass, she weaves her way through the flower bushes and tomato plants, all the way to the back fence by her sunflowers. She all but throws herself at the earth, pulling her legs tight against her chest. A fresh batch of tears starts to trickle from her eyes. Betty truly didn’t think she had any more tears to cry but being in this garden isn’t having the healing effect she thought it would. It was foolish to think that she would be calm here. This garden holds too many memories of James, and Betty instantly regrets ever brining the taller girl here. She’s tainted the one place she’s sought solitude since her family moved to this stupid town. When they moved, Betty had been distraught, leaving all her friends behind. Her mom and dad had both asked if there was anything that could make the move better. Betty had almost instantly said a big garden.

Betty loves the outdoors, she has ever since she was a kid. Her grandma had instilled a love for plants and flowers in her, from the moment she could walk. She remembers sticking her stubby little fingers in the dirt, placing delicate seeds with the aid of her grandma. Then helping to tend those sprouts until they produced leaves, flowers, and fruit. There’s something so gratifying about bringing new life into existence, with just a little water, sunshine, and love.

Now, what was once her happy place, is full of sour memories. Betty looks at a row of blueberry bushes and scoffs, remembering how excited James had been to see the blue fruit the first time Betty brought her here. That very same day, they shared their first kiss, next to the blueberry bushes. The sound of early evening crickets and the feeling of soft grass beneath her toes failed in comparison to the feeling of James’s soft lips against hers. Her heart had soared and felt almost as full as being in this garden makes her feel.

Not anymore though.

Betty wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at this garden the same way ever again. She slowly stands from her spot in the grass and heads inside. Thankfully, her parents are no where to be seen and her little brother is still at soccer practice, so Betty is able to make it to her room without being seen.

The moment she enters her room, her heart sinks. The first thing her eyes land on, is James’s ill-fitting cardigan hanging from her bed post. Her heart feels heavy as she remembers the day James had bestowed the beloved sweater upon her. They were taking a walk in the park, after getting ice cream. It was late September, so the days had been hot, but the evenings were starting to become chilly. Betty had shivered as they walked, instantly regretting leaving her denim jacket at home. James has always been observant. At the first sign of her coldness, James had slipped off her baggy cardigan and slipped it over Betty’s shoulders. Betty felt warmer immediately and it wasn’t just because of the soft fabric hanging on her.

Betty stomps over to the bed and all but rips the cardigan from the post, tossing it to the ground. She kicks it under the bed before flopping stomach first onto the mattress.

She was foolish to let James in. Now it’ll take a lifetime to recover from the kind, beautiful soul that she thought James was. She thought that the blonde, softball player was going to be the one. Betty saw herself growing old with the other girl; buying a house, planting a new garden and raising a few kids. She’s only 17, almost 18. It seems foolish now that she was planning so far into the future with someone she has known for only a year, before her life has even truly begun.

An outsider might look at the situation and say she will move on. She’s so young. When you are as young as Betty, most adults assume that you don’t know a thing about true love. But Betty knows how she truly feels, Betty knows that she was – still is in love with James. And she hates it.

[charmed-asylum]

🔪Midnight Desire🔪

Midnight Desire, chapter 4 

Summery:  A group of seniors  simple night of drinking and partying at their local grocery store. Turns for the worst when they realize they are lock in with something far more dangerous then they ever imagine

Declaimer: Midnight Desire has a few curse words and hints of assault . This is my very first story I am posting on tumblr so please be kind give it a glance. I promise you a good ride from beginning to end. So buckle up and enjoy the ride!!!! <3 Ps. If you want the extended ending let me now

MD Part:  1 2 3 

tagged: @nottherightseason @strangerfictions @weapinggwillowss @thewolfswriting 

I wanna thank everyone for joining me on this little ride. Hope you enjoy. xo Charmed Asylum 

Cora grab her away from the body. " He gone. He dead" she said wiping her hand across Jo face. There was blood everywhere. Fred just stop still. Garrett was stunned. Cora was trying to cradle a now traumatized Jo. “We are going to die. No we are dead already " Jo said still in Cora arms . Garrett looks at her. Then at Fred. " Hey you always want people to follow you and do as you do. Then lead us. Or at least help" he says to him.  Fred starts looking around then looks at Jo. " No no . We just need to think” he stops looks at Jo “ We all know what he wants. The freak. We should just leave her. Then he let us go. You said baby how you hate her. Well here your chance" he says looking at Cora .

 Cora looks at him then at Jo. Garrett punch him square in the face. " Over my dead body. There a way. One we all can survive. Just need to find the old loading area. It's a little this way"he says and starts walking a bit of blood dripping from his knuckles. 

Jo looks around. Absorbing everything. Trying to remain calm. She gestures to the group to stop and come back. Jo takes a deep breath in trying to get her mind back on track. " Garrett you said and obviously know this place but you didn't even know about that lair and we left way before him.  For him to kill Farah and be ahead of us to kill Lex. Look our flashlights on our phones  literally putting us on find my phone app. We are blind and he knows that. We need to be smart" she said holding her light down looking at the group.

One thing she learned was just because you have a care doesn't mean you live in the clouds. She had to be strong to make it back home. Tell her mom. Get back no matter what. Garrett looks at her then look at the others. " Then here Fred and Cora hold hands. Cora hold Jolie hands and you hold mines. One light I go first. Hear weird sounds or feel something off tug a hand"  he says. Each of them does as he says and starts to walk forward. Garrett walk slow trying to reach the safe point. " You were smart back there Jolie. Hey if we don't make it. Even though this has been a crappy day. I'm happy your here. I just wish I was more smart and said something before now" Garrett said and continue to stay focused. She glanced at him with a bashful smile and then back at the rest. How did he know when she needed him most

Fred felt more than betrayal. Not only  by his friends his girlfriend  but by a nobody.  A loser. Someone that in less than a day became a total pain in the butt. He tug at Cora. 

" I got to take a shit. Come with me" he said touching her cheek with a smirk across his face. She rolls her eyes at him and look ahead. 

" Why your scared. Can't believe this is happening. My day is sucking harder than a lollipop. Fine but I want to make out. If I die I die doing what I want. I'm staying outside while you do your do. Kinda don't want to be more turn off then I am right now" she said nonchalantly. 

Cora quickly let go off Jo hand while she was to busy looking at Garrett and walk off with Fred. Fred kiss Cora on the check and goes in. Anger he had built up filled his mind and heart. Flashing some water on his face. He looks up to the old broken mirror. 

" Shot. Just need away out. Get my head together back in the game. Be in control. Instead of walking around with a bunch of freaks" he said then heads to the bathroom stall. 

He started to hum to himself. The door behind him open. Footsteps clung behind him slowly. " Hey baby I be done in a second. Go so I can finish!" he said still peeing. The steps got closer to him louder louder . Zipping himself up and turns around. A short scream came out.

" OH SHUT NO NO NO'" he yelled.

Pleading for his life. The stranger took out a big cutting knife and raised it above his head. Fred was out of options. There was nothing else but to return the favor. 

" Look look. I know only thing you want is the girl. The little bit.... Angel . I can help you. Bring her to you. I just wanted to go home. You can take whoever you want. Take the other girl . I do not even fucking care. Let me just help you. Please PLEASE" he pleaded with the stranger. Tears and snot infused with one another as he pleaded.

He lay there by his feet. Fred was crying now like a little baby. The stranger lower the knife and walk away into the darkness . Fred was at peace. Few seconds later Cora and Jo came in. Cora rush to Fred to comfort him. 

" Your shaking baby what's wrong ?" Cora said rubbing her hands through his thigh black hair. He holds her tight close to his chest  and look deep into Jo eyes. Evan with Garrett jacket he could see the outline of her lace bra and flat stomach that was clinging to blood stain top. Cora was speaking words of motivation and naughty thoughts. Her eyes shift away from his.

" I'm alright. Just worried about you,baby. I love you" he said with a void seductive tone.

" Where Garrett. Did something happen to him" he said still holding Cora now by the hand. Could he be that lucky . Jo looked back at him then roll her eyes. Cora looked at him then outside. " He outside. Looks like they got in their first fight. Cute right.  She wants to stay with me. She worried about him.  Can you keep an eye out on him. Maybe stay with him" she said giving him butterfly kisses. Jo look away with disgust stick her tongue out about to throw up. His eyes never left Jo as he smiles and shakes his head yes. Maybe luck was on his side after all. 

     ____________________________________________________

Jo stops then looks both ways. SHUT 

"Garrett" she whispers.

 She tugs at his hand to stop.

 " What you fine? Anything dizzy " he said tugging at Jo bag over his shoulder huffing at its weight .

 She looks past him. " They let go off my hand. They must of went back" she stops and looks ahead " We are close shouldn't we just keep going. Get out find help. Garrett" Jo said. He looks ahead then back behind her. He shocked his head no. " Sounds good but no let's find a spot back and wait.Give them ten minutes. Crazy as it sounds they might of went to hook up. Stupid timing. Leave no one behind. Jolie. Remember" he said with a sweet smile.

 She tapped her left foot and nodded. They walk back to a water fountain. Jo looks at Garrett then ahead. She slowly goes to grab the bag. " Let me hold it. You need water. Look exhausted" she grabbing for the bag. He stops her. Then shocked his head no. Stubborn she still grab for it. It was heavy for a bag she knew didn't have much in it.

 " Why is it so heavy. What did you put in here. Bricks" she said with an innocent chuckle . She sat down with the bag between her legs and start to open it. Garrett started to worry. Unsure if he wanted her to know what was the unknown. " Stop it's nothing just my plan B" he said. She looks at him then open it. She stayed still. Gazing at the bag. She slow grab one and took one out. " What is this… What is it doing in here" she said holding up a homemade throw bomb. Garrett started to walk back and forth. "Protection" he said quietly. She tosses it to him . He stumbled to quickly catch it. " Yea I get that but why do you know how to make one. Garrett. People just don't know off the back how to make things like this. I thought we….. I trust you. I give you my life . But this. There must be at least three in here" she said looking through the bag. She was stunned. He looks at her and grabs the bag away from her. 

 " Not now Jolie. Not now" he said to her with a little bit of a harsh tone. She stop him and look back. Surprised. " No we stop for them they are not here. Tell me. Let me know your still my knight" she said looking at him. He kick at a stack of cereal box cursed under his breath.

 "Baby you can.. Look. This year has been a shit show. I basically lost everything. I thought about a lot of dark shit" he stopped and got close to her. His thumb rubs gently across her cheekbone before coming in to kiss her on the cheek. " It’s not like I’m going to still do it. Not now. We have each other. Now. It was a thought . I was going to kill everyone Jolie. Go to school and fucking murder the shit out of everyone. You understand. Don't you? We talked you understand. I even had it planned you survive. Soul survive" he said looking at the bombs then at her. She was stunned about everything. He looks at her. With words of comfort she could not get the look her gave her.  Full of disappointment he grab the bag and walk towards them. She was quite a few tears left her rosy cheeks. She glanced at him then back on the floor.

 " Why kill people. Your leaving soon. Your better than that. At least I thought you were.I thought I could trust you. You protect me. Better than everyone else. How can you say you care if you was just gonna leave me behind in this mad word" she said still looking at the ground. He said nothing but just kept moving. Cora was by the make up area looking around trying on lipsticks when they found her. Jo pass Garrett and started to look for Fred. 

" I just want this night to be over" she said passing Cora. Cora glanced at her then look at Garrett. " What donkey crap did you do to her,Garrett" she said hitting his shoulder. He was quite just looking ahead where Jo walked off .He looks down at her " Nothing. Just hurt about one of the few people I care for. Where Fred we need to go". Cora looks at herself in a reflection of a broken mirror then again at him. Rolling her eyes she followed Jo towards the bathroom. " Hey. Did that jerk. Do something to you. Jolie. Was he uhh " she said to say looking at her. Jo looks at her  a few old tears drying up on her checks and shakes her head no. " I want to go home. I should not of ask him about the bag. He… I never should have looked. I hate I love.  Think all this is hurting him psychological or something. Where's Fred" she said looking at her. Cora sighed then pointed at the bathroom. "There there. Sorry he hurt you.  You never really look like this before.  I make Fred keep an eye on him. I get us home" she said holding Jo hand tight.

       _______________________________________________________

 Fred look at them and try detox a plan. Jo looks at Fred then at Cora. Fred looked down at his watch and set the timer. Walking up to Garrett with one eye on Jo. That eye can never leave her. They got closer to the old shipping area. It was dark. Creepy. Garrett motion at Fred. " We are almost there. I'm going to go tell the girls" he says. Fred looked at his watch 8 minutes left. SHIT Looking back at them he smiles. " I will tell them. We are a team. Right?  You go ahead and try for the doors, we be right behind you" he says with a huge smile.

 Garrett looks ahead at Jo who was a couple of feet behind talking to Cora. Still her eyes were locked on him. " Sure just tell. Jolie. I'm sorry. For letting her down. I'm better because of you" he said full of sorrow. Fred felt sick to his stomach . What a mommy boy  Garret continue ahead towards the doors. 

 Fred runs towards Cora and Jo. " Hey uh honey. Garrett said we are close" he stops and look at Jo " but baby he needs you. Girl advice. Or some crap... I stay with her. Keep her safe" he says giving her a quick kiss on the lips. Cora whisper to Jo then started to go after Garrett. Fred look again. 4 minutes.

 Jo looks at him with gentle innocent stare . " Hey I'm sorry about all of this. Sadly I wish we could be friends. Not this. I never said a thing  by way" she says looking at him. No emotions. Fred shook his head then went along a little bit of course. Jo not paying not much attention followed him. Fred looks at her. A part of him felt bad for what to come if he had a few hours he was sure he could get her screaming his name. A wolf grind creep across his face of that thought.  " You know something crazy. This has been a really great night. Party did my side and main in one night fucking wet dream . Like everything I ever wanted. And I didn't have to do anything" he says walking with a broken piece of a mirror in his hand. Not feeling right. Jo stops and slowly start to back away from beside him. He stop and turn around. He smiled at her with a toxic insane smile. Jo looks at his face then at his hands. She quickly turns around to see the stranger behind her in the dark shadows. Watching. Jo flings away from him and starts to run. In two big steps Fred comes from behind and tackle her to the ground. He pins her down while her body shack trying to get loose. He leans into kiss her hands. The touch felt like acid touching her skin . She wiggles and  kick him to the groin. She crawls trying to get on her feet. Fred from behind grabs her feet and flip her again. Now putting all his body weight on her. He reach close and leaves a bit mark on her neck. 

" You know looking at you now. I can see what the town talking about. Heck I see why Garrett was so woo by you. To bad just like everything else I going to have try it first" he says still holding her down. Forcing his lips onto hers. His hips grinding into hers with strides. Hand over her mouth trying to hide her pain. Out of no there was a BANG. Drops of blood drips onto her face across her brown eyes. Fred lunges up in pain. Screaming and cursing. Garrett rush past him and grabs Jo. Cora was holding up the gun Garrett had earlier straight at Fred. " He is here. He here" Jo say getting away with Garrett. Garrett looks back at Fred who was slowly making his way for them. Eyes full of anger with his body ready to get his prey. Cora looks at the two than motions to go. She shoots again at him. Warning him to stop. Crying at him with guilt and anger. From behind him there a figure still in the shadow still behind Fred . His watch goes off. Fred stun. Looks down at the watch then at them. Then behind him. The figure was only now a couple feet inches away. Fred with all his might lunges at Cora with the broken mirror. Bang bang bang. Cora screams in horror as she shoots her boyfriend since seventh grade down dead.

Without thinking Cora rushes to the now dead body.  Kissing Fred on the check trying to wake him up. Frozen of what she had done. Garrett still holding on to Jo calls out for her to hurry. Mascara and eyeliner running down her face. She slowly gets up and runs her way towards Garrett.  It's weird to believe that one night can sum up a lifetime.

       _________________________________________________

He was full of endless thoughts to himself. Whispers of a sadness. "So poop head what is it you want to talk about" she said trying to mirror her best Jolie impression. Garrett looks at her then looks back. Confuse. Talking to himself out loud. 

 "Nothing.... I was just so blinded. Today makes over six months I been on the track to a new. Your shitty boyfriend getting coach to kick me off... be poking me sideways. Just seeing the hurt and pain in someone's eyes but feeling the ever ending love of someone. Unconditional " he said full of thoughts. Cora look at him then behind her. Jolie and Fred was still there. Cora looks at him. 

"Sometimes we act blind because we are too much of a coward to realized the truth. You said something.  About her the one we both had the endless need to save her when all she wants to do is save us. Maybe it's my fault for all this. I saw things instead of protecting I use it to get what I want. I might act like I don't like her but I actually love her. If she can still everyday take up with me and my bitchy crap she forgive you" Cora said. 

She felt bad. NO responsible. 

She played with his emotions use him as her entertainment. Not knowing he really cared. Was invested. 

Garrett started to smile then freeze. 

" Thanks but...Wait what advice are you supposed to tell me. I never.... Wait why didn't Jolie come up with Fred yet" he said starting to freak out. Cora froze. She turned around nothing was there. "Wait. Garrett. You ask for girls advice right?  You told he you need me right? Told that prick to stay with her right" she says to him her voice started to crumble . 

Garrett puts his left hand to his face then looks at her. He glances at the metal doors then at her.

 " I was going to run back to get you guys. We were close but he basically beg to do it. SHIT . You stay here. Better than that stay straight you get to a part with a lot of old cracks push through and find whatever you have to get out. Then get help" he says then starts to run the opposite direction towards Fred. Cora starts running straight then freeze. She turns around and tries to reach Garrett. "That sounds good but I don't want to go alone and if there is a killer. He might be there. Give me something" she says trying to catch her breath. 

Garrett takes out the gun and hammer then tries to give Cora the hammer. Cora grabs the gun. And keeps on moving. 

" You think I'm stupid. I did had a younger brother before after all . We played a lot of video games" she says clocking the gun. 

They look around. Calling out Fred and Jo name. Nothing. Garrett started to get upset. "What if he did something. That's the second time . I allowed him to do it to her" he said tearing up. 

Cora still walking. "We both allowed things to happen to her. Maybe that's why we are both so hard on our self to save her. But she strong trust me. Wait you heard that sound" she said looking around.

 Garrett stops and try to listen. The sound was faded. They ran closer towards the sound. Fred was over a wild Jo. Garrett places his arm in front of Cora to not rush in.

" We can't ever be too safe. Let's go that way light on the feet. You grab her I keep the gun on him" he says motioning her to keep low.

She check the gun once again.

"No all the crap he put me though no. I do it" she says and rush towards him. Garrett follows right behind her. 

Her hands were shaking while her body was still. She stood over his lifeless body. She saw his eyes fool of love,anger, fear, and now as his soul left his physical body. She leaned down and slap his face. Jo grabs at her screaming let's go. As she turned around she finally saw it saw the urban legend the stranger lurking in the shadows. They all ran for it towards the entrance. Cora looks back trying to find the stranger. Tripping. Jo starts to run after her when Garrett stops her. Holding her back as she kick and scream to save her.  Cora looks again the stranger was only a few feet away. " GO GO GO. I BE FINE. GO" she says getting the gun out to shoot it.

 Garrett grabs Jo and continue to run. Cora aims and shoots at him. A few rounds. She kept trying to shoot but she was out of bullets. The stranger grab at her and started choking her. She scratches at him. Getting free she ran along the side of a conveyor belt . The big hands grab at her foot trying to stab her. Afraid she throws whatever  she can at him. The stranger takes a cordless electric cutter and slice her once on the hand and once on the side. Cora now in fear struggle on the conveyor belt drags herself away from him. Crawling  she beg for mercy from the silent killer.  He walks slowly behind her watching her struggle. Taking the remote to the conveyor belt and press big red button . A drill comes and sticks right into Cora's stomach. Cora screams dark red drops of blood spit out her mouth and corner of her eyes as she cried out of pain.  She reaches up to the stranger to see her killer face. Fingers grip tight to the mask covering its face. Slipping into darkness her eyes pierced with fear  and pure horror.

     __________________________________________________

Jo and Garrett finally getting  to the doors stop midway when they heard the screams. Jo looks back. Then starts going back trying to help her save her.Garrett looks at Jo. "Jolie. Look I'm sorry about all of this . What I said... Didn't say" he says. She looks at him then goes to find something to break the lock. She wanted to cry give up but she knew that was not part of her plan. The stranger wanted to that. And no matter what she wasn't gonna let him win. Coming back to him she looks at him then away. Finally realizing what he said . " Garrett I can not never be mad at you. You're the love I deserve. The passion that I  would sell my soul for. I care for you to much  " she stops and starts banging at the chains. Garrett holding the hammer looks at her. A soft smile came across his face. "How do you know. You deserve so much more than me. Don't hate or stop at your happiness" he said full of guilt. Jo moves her hair away from face. She looks at him and grab his hand. 

" Not now. Garrett. With all the crap I been through.  We been though.You you was the only hope for peace love I felt since I came here. I was mad but you care about me. I know. I will  never forget that. But now you have to  let me help you. Honey. You fight till there no fighting left then crawl the rest. We are going to make it" she said holding onto him tight. She could tell his was losing hope. Just a little more she thought to herself. She continues to bang at the chains. Bang bang. The door to the room start to open. Garrett look at Jo then towards the door. Jo starts pulling with all her might to open the chain. Garrett pushes  her out the way and starts pulling. Jo looks down and see he was cut a little by the rib. Garrett breaking the chain. Grab her hand again.Take it off. As they got closer to freedom. Garrett slowly lets go and step back full of pain. Jo stops. Garrett looks at the bag then at her. " We can end it. For our friends. Jolie don't you think we should take it. The chance" he says. Jo looks at him then at the chains. She knew what he wanted to do.Give up. 

" No no I need you. We are so close. Let's just go. You and me. Remember" she says. He looks at her then back away. His mind was set.

" Alright but what if they think we did this. Killed everyone Jolie. I'm going back and check" he said with his hand out for her. 

She looks at his hand. He was right even if she did not fully agree." Together. Jolie. I place the bombs and you can run to booth" he said now taking her hand. They covered the unlock chains then ran across the side of the wall. There was no sign of it. Garrett stops Jo. 

" Now I stay here and keep watch. I don't know if I have enough to make it. Go up there and get the tapes. Our insurance . Two minutes" he said. Jo nod and  went. Music was playing in the background. Hello by Lionel Richie. A song Jolie knew too well. She turned to look at Garrett. Who was holding tight to the bag. She rush in and look for the tapes.She sees the stranger walking around as she picked up the last tape. She watched him. Take off your mask. You animal she whisper to herself. The stranger was close but not to close. By the time she came back. Garrett was in a deep trance. Jo trying to be strong smiles at him.

" Jackpot. NOW Let's go home Garrett. Take me home" she said, holding his hands tight kissing him on the lips. This night was something he wanted to forget everything that has ever  happened .  He walked behind her. Watching her like he did before. The strange way he use to. Everything. The many times she would glance back in class to see if he was still looking. The many times he could even tell her how he felt but didn't. Jo called for him . It was the stranger he was standing there right behind him. "Run Jolie! Run" he says running towards her. They ran towards the door. Jo runs though and waits for him. GARRETT HURRY UP !!! He looks back at her. He goes to the door and jams it shut. Jo looks at him and starts banging at the door. Bang bang bang . He was getting close. Garrett took out the bombs and stars light them up and throwing it. He looks at the door face full of fear and sadness. " No No open the door Garrett. Opening the we can make it. You promised you promised. No" Jo screaming bang at the door with her body .He could see her hands getting bloody trying to open it. Throwing her whole body at the door. He slowly puts his hand to the mirror and mouths I love you Jolie to her. Eyes filling up with tears. Watching him.  He looks at her bloody hands. He tried to motions to go. She stood still shaking her head no.  She could not. He took one last look and rush towards it with the bomb lighten up in his hand. Boom 

Jo watches Garrett run away. Banging at the door. Make it home. You have to make it home she says to herself trying to stop from crying. Looking down at the floor she tries to get herself together. Get yourself together She runs as fast as she can to the cray. Pulling and Pulling.  Still able hear the screams  from far away. Cries for help. Garrett was crying. The explosion was loud. Jo getting the last chain off starts climbing out. Screaming for help.

     _________________________________________________

Jo sat there in the snow. The fireman and police stood in groups outside the isolated market. Trying to figure out what happened. 

She was  still as ice. No emotion. Not even a word since they got her. Even the way to the hospital. Silence.

" There was only four bodies.All look to be high school students" said an officer standing outside Jo hospital room.Two detectives walked in. The older one had a white bread, kind of like Santa Claus , got close and sat next to her. "We found some tapes on you. When you was uh picked up. Would you like to tell us what happened tonight, Ms. Westfield" he says. Jo looks outside at the cold night. She was covered in bandages. "My mom where is she. I will like to speak to her" she says still looking outside. He looks at her then at his partner. "Jo can I call you that. We tried. But we really need you to explain those tapes" he says with frustration . Jo glances at him with a side eye then back outside. "Its Jolie. And I want my mom" she stops and looks at the booth."It's been a long night. You have the tapes. I tell you. I tell you everything.  Just... Can I please have some time to myself" Jolie says. He glances at his partner and shakes his head yes. They walk out but not before saying,  “Too bad for her” .She waited a few seconds then tried her mom's cell number and house number. Slowly getting up from the bed. She made her away to the door. Something wrong she thinks to herself . She pulls out the IVU and quickly puts on some hospital shoes ,the cops left for her. She waited to the cops was gone and slip out. Jolie walked the whole way home. Running as fast as she could. Her inside start to turn to ice her mind racing. The front door was unlocked with blood on the door handle. She slowly walks in. Screaming for her mom's name Heather.  Walking around she could feel something was wrong. The whole house was a war zone. She slowly makes her way to her mom's bedroom. A short scream of horror fills the room as she sees her badly murder mother on the floor and the stranger rocking in a chair with a smile at her. Jolie wakes up. She is in the hospital covered in sweat cuffed to the bedside. " Can you believe it . I heard she ran home to see her mother was brutally murder with her step father beside the body. Holding the mom heart laughing like a madman. He still had some of the butcher get up burn to his face and body . When we got there she was just standing outside in the freezing snow humming to herself. Man confessed to everything" a cop says outside drinking a cup of coffee. 

Jolie full of madness stare out the window humming his song.

[stone-man-warrior]

January 23, 2021: 11:34 am:

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

https://twitter.com/BBCNews/status/1352761662068166658

We interrupt this Corona Virus Important Announcement for these words from our sponsors:

https://twitter.com/BBCWorld/status/1353030814397829120

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2XO39vz01M

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=891zKx2Ffvg

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

One more time:

“Patrick Vallance = Hamburger Patty Drapery Cover, Top Rail Overcast Configuration.

We have to go back in time, in Twitter news, take the Way-Back Machine to a time when the words: “Less than ten“ were a standard statement from news media when reports from a “Schul Schut” list of the number of dead was the result of some tragic event.

What used to be the standard “Less than ten” is now the rules are up to “13 to 14 people are going to die every day”.

Mr. SAG Universal Patty of Tommy Burgers on Victory Blvd in San Feranando Valley Vallance, is calling for some: “Sodomy”, “Coke… no! Pepsi… no! Coke!” to happen. The Christian SDA pronounce the word “sodomy” as “soda me”. Is important to know that, is standard, means there is a “Save the Princess” and the one who says “soda-me” is the “Princess”, and is also one of the assassins of a larger group that shows up as a result of “soda me” when spoken by someone playing role of victim.

In English: He needs a distraction, something that will use up a lot of global security and rescue resources, to draw attention into the direction of a controlled environment that happens to also be a fake “Schul Schut” garden variety of tragic events played out by nbc/Universal Studios/Comcast terror actors and engineers of all kinds (Disney Imagineers, because of it’s Britain, and they like castles over there) in effort to stall some sudden interest in the activities of “powerful people” in high places in UK, EU, USA, SA, Canada, nz, Down Under in the Outback, Africa, Amazon, Tesla, the Vatican, and Jim Dunlop humble maker of guitar picks and Cry Baby Wah, and other places, such as Boeing, nasa, and Lockheed Martin.

Patty Vallance seems to be ordering a “Schul Schut” to me.” ~StoneMan 1-22-2021.

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi_BHHY5A8M

Customer see’s Cal Worthington and his dog Spot on TV, incredible bargains of new, used cars at Long Beach. Customer buys one of the new ones instead of the one that one seen on TV, that one is not available anymore. Customer registers the new car.

Spot eats customer.

Cal Worthington makes a new commercial with some new used new fresh inventory.

https://twitter.com/BorisJohnson/status/1353027314750263298

“Long Beach” shows up at the 1:48 minute mark here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_zhBLF1Fu0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfXhf0kfG4E

At the 0:12 mark, some comfort is requested by the Queen.

Rampart Division is there, “Johnny on the Spot” at the 0:13 mark.

Very powerful, and comfortable.

Like the Ottoman Empire was.

It’s about the Children.

At the 0:38 mark, after Rampart is comfortable there propping up the feet of the Throne, then, the big request, babies, lots of babies.... all shapes and sizes... the Queen requires babies, US Citizen babies.

On Saturday night’s, they are on blue plate special at the Church Yard Sale picnic.

=====

Disclaimer:

Real Police = Officers

Fake Screen Actor Guild Police = Ham = Pigs

Royal Canadian Mounted Police disguised as State Police = RCMP = Pig Farmers = Bring Home the Bacon = Keeps the Pigs in Blanket all nice and cozy so they don‘t get cought kidnapping and raping the babies of the Cal Worthington customer who just registered their new car at the California DMV and was eaten by his dog, Spot.

now, it’s just a state mandated euthanasia administration where citizens are ordered to line up to be put to sleep at the COVID 19 Test Center near you.

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

6:03 pm:

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1353126296692387842

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1353122031580147714

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1353117009983250434

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1353112504835203076

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1353103380353323008

This series of Tweets seems to add up to other than what the packaging is saying.

I am seeing the one on top about the mine as the main subject, while the others are there to help terror soldiers read the information in the one about the mine.

All speculation:

The tweet is saying something about the Lithia Motors new car dealerships, seems to be a nation wide subject, as Lithia is very large car dealership.

Key phrasing is in “Fast Tracked”.

The phrasing, when combined with the past two days of very tiny hints about that tweet contained in many other news stories is about “billiards” to say a message in a story about mines.

The phrase “I am feeling a little behind the eight ball” is part of the basis of how the message is presented.

So, to be behind the 8-Ball, is to be shadowed, or, protected, or, otherwise are not in range of a incoming cue ball.

I think the inclusion of Nevada is only there to get the reader to see that there is a game in the message.

“Energy” is power. “Mining” is not clear, could be children, could be a possessive statement, I am seeing the possessive statement use.

“Final Approval” is not a good thing for the subject of the tweet, witch seems to be the Lithia Motors Car Dealerships nation wide. They are all hard core terror cells.

The way it all reads, is what was once in possession of “Democrat” terror control, was taken by Donald Trump terror branding cells.

“Lithia is Under New Management”

(Trump/Benedict Vatican/Boris Johnson Brexit, branding)

... seems to be the headline in an English translation to the Tweet about the Nevada mine.

All speculation, but it seems as though Trump managed to steal away a number of terror holdings from the Democrat leaders.

I could also say what I usually say, that it was in possession of “Britain/Bergoglio/Canadian“ terror cells, and that would also be accurate enough.

Democrat political party controls much of the Britain/Bergoglio terror cells, Canadians, of course, would be the actual people at the Lithia car dealerships who do the murders and trafficking that is done by Lithia Motors, the Democrats run the place from a Command Center position, for marching orders to Rank & File Canadian terror soldiers at terror cells such as Lithia Motors. Looks like Donald Trump stole the car.... dealership.

The tweet says the “Fast Track” happened before Joe took office, so, my read is that Joe cannot “pocket” the proceeds made from the terror trafficking, and the proceeds could include kidnapped children.

The Democrat political party are all Screen Actor Guild members who also run the SAGClubMed terror cells, hundreds of very large medical industry companies and underground operations, and hundreds of thousands of smaller medical associated terror cells. The “AARP Family of Brands” is another way of saying Democrat Political Party, so, when the Democrats do terror comm, they sometimes use drug analogies for updates and marching order shell jargon. That is where the “Fast Track” turns into an “8-Ball” to say the comm about billiards with drugs.

See? simple.

My read about the major difference between Republican and Democrats is that there is no difference between the two, with a few exceptions. They are all SAG members, and are all part of the terror leadership, The difference seems to be that the farther over on the Democrat side you look, the more likely you are to find drug addicts in Government, while the farther you look on the Republican side, the more likely you are to find a lot of Bibles.

Donald Trump is neither Democrat or Republican.

He is “Afterswords”. A completely different animal in the house.

He is SAG, same as the Dems and GOP, but is not one of them.

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

7:20 pm:

In other news:

Today and yesterday at Pope Francis Pontifex Twitter account, I read the most offensive Tweets I have seen yet.

The “Text” of the information is very difficult to decode, and explain.

There are signs from MOOG Music in email promotion today the suggest the MOOG synthesizer makers are preparing to target a selection of visual graphic artists for take out. Once the people send in the requested information for a contest they say they are promoting, the Google terror cells will be tracking the people, learning all about them, and then will show up at their homes for COVID 19 murder operations.

I am not going to decode any of it. These Pope Tweets are far too depressing, and hurt to know that there is no one watching the baby, while the Pope is eating them.

The Pontifex account on Twitter has more than 18 million followers, each one is a terror soldier. The way Google/Twitter terror works, is that when a new follower shows up at Pontifex, those people are scrutinized, followed around, spied on and the local church where those people live will be sending assassins eventually. There may be some COVID choice to make, or not, but eventually the new Pontifex follower will become a Christian terror pirate one way, or another way. Either those people already are Christian pirates, or will choose to get and use the required Smart Phone for tracking and spying on others as a murder cell member, or, if they refuse, they will be killed and replaced with a recruit from a nearby place, in USA that would be a recruit from Canada, who takes possession of the victims ID, home, car, Twitter account, voting status, and that persons whole life is consumed and portrayed by the terror pirate recruits.

So, all 18.8 million of them are terror pirates. There is no other way for them to be. The Vatican does not allow any other way to be, and the Screen Actor Guild enforces the rules made by the Vatican, and so does the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who are disguised as State Police in USA. The RCMP are employed by the State Government, paid from Department of Transportation payroll the same as any real police are paid. They are real in every way other than being loyal to USA or Freedom, they are loyal to the British Throne only, ad so are the SAG actors they work alongside with for commanding the Christian terror pirate army of more than 18.8 million pirates who all use Twitter to get their marching orders.

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

MOOG Music:

“Moo”

It’s what the cow says on a “See n Say” toy where pull the string after putting the little pointer thing on the farm animal you want to hear.

Cattle G = Steer Gnosis = Heard the Cattle, make lies = Slaughter House 5 Liars = a gruesome movie from the 1970′s, and lie to cover it up.

(the “5″ are from the Thunderbird’s TV puppet show for kids from the 1960′s. The Tracy Family Kids, all are representations of Christian terror family cell members in the neighborhood where you live, everywhere that people live.)

Moog Music. Humble makers of electronic musical instruments. A employee owned company for more than fifty years.

MOOG Music is part of the Democrat specific terror branding. They are stepping up the pace with the Joe Biden Brigade in the fake White House Government.

Please note, that the MOOG Music (house painting) Contest was announced before Joe was inaugurated, then was advanced today.

I suspect the winning selection will contain a lot of Red.

“We are painting the town Red” is a old democrat terror motto from way back.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG8_f0HdlMQ

(insert Eddy Grant: “Electric Avenue” video here)

(Tumblr is hijacked, I cannot post the video)

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

11:36 pm:

I have to stop doing the Local Update, at least for awhile.

The Local Update is working against what I started doing it for, as a record of neighborhood terror conditions for comparative purposes as compilation over time, and to help preserve my own memory of events, people. vehicles, ways terror bastards do what they do.

The Local Update has taken a wrong turn, into the realm of the “Vigilante Community Watch” arena. That is not what is going on.

So far, it’s super apparent that the Joe Biden Democrats are taking the helm of the Christian Pirate Ship. There is a huge difference in the terror branding that is happening now compared to about two months ago. This week has proven that Joe Biden is driving the pirate boat, and is all over the place, cannot steer the thing.

If you have ever received a notice from a government federal agency where along with the notice there are four pages of information that explanes that the same information is available by request in 52 different languages, and there a few statements that are written in each of the 52 languages, all listed on four pages of the federal notice, that only takes a half page to say, then, that is the people who are fucking with me this past week. It’s not that there are other languages being spoken, it’s an identifiable terror branding component that I am seeing displayed in many ways so far this last few days, a signature style of terror ways that I can see, recognize from the past, and can identify as that of Democrat terror styling.

Too many small details to say here.

It’s obvious that my cries for help to stop the mass murder have been turned against me, and now I am being portrayed as a rogue neighborhood watch person, rather that a captive victim who needs to get some help for myself and other captive victims who are in far worse shape than I am.

So, I need to discontinue the Local Update of conditions on a walk to the mailbox. I can only go outside for a short time otherwise the terror bastards follow me everywhere, try to run me over, shoot at me, poison me with different kinds of airborne gasses, mostly is nitrous oxide, and the terror bastards watch and listen to my front door so that they know when I open the front door to step outside, and then they show up every where I need to be, no matter where I go, or for how long I am there, there will be some terror bastards there to interfere, distract, then attack.

[prettypityprincess]

closet case

titled: closet case, mentions of (michelle jones x reader)

you decide to come out as a lesbian to your two best friends

warning: there might be some swearing, some gayness?idk is that a warning? though it mentions michelle, this is mainly focused around your friendship with betty and cindy word count: 1,928

Cold, bubbling liquid slips through your lips. The Sprite tingles on the way down your throat and settles nicely into your stomach. You watch as long, nimble fingers take strands of dark hair and tightly braid them together. The dark haired girl’s head is suddenly pulled back, a hiss coming from her pink lips.

“Ow! Can you not yank on my hair?” Cindy asks squinting her eyes, lips curling into a frown.

You’ve been friends with Cindy Moon ever since you gave her some advice on how to handle her stress. Seeing the normally collected girl falling apart and half dead at Midtown’s local library every day got hard for you.

Sure, you were in there right along with her, but you didn’t have bags under your eyes and you weren’t putting Red Bull in water bottles to get away with drinking them in the library.

You just went there to discover and read some new books, and occasionally get your homework done. Cindy on the other hand didn’t leave the library until all of her homework was finished and she had studied her little heart away.

One day you packed a second lunch of a tuna sandwich and two water bottles that you took with you on the way to her messy table while she furiously took notes.

“I’ve noticed that you look a little worn out. Food and water should help you feel better. Also, I think a few more hours of sleep won’t hurt either.” You told her, smiling down shyly at the black haired girl.

She looked a little bit surprised at first, looking up at you with her eyebrows raised and mouth parted slightly. Then a smile appeared on her face as she reached out to take the sandwich and waters.

“Thank you.” She paused to brush a hair out of her face, “I’m Cindy.”

You smiled with more confidence, taking a seat in the chair next to her. “I’m ______”

Ever since that day you’ve been friends, and whenever you need to be reminded to eat or sleep she was the first one on it. The mutual protectiveness you two have over each other makes you so happy, and you can always count on her to watch out for you.

Blue eyes roll at the girl, the nimble fingers not letting go of the strands of hair. “Can you not move around so much?” Betty retorts, turning her head to look at Cindy.

Talking to Betty Brant for the first time, took some courage you didn’t think that you had. You entered the bathroom to wash your hands from lunch, turning the faucet on quickly. Over the sound of running water you heard soft sniffles and quiet sobs. You turned the handle and the water shut off, “Hello?”

No answer, except now whoever was crying had stopped their breathing abruptly.

Taking a peek under the stall you saw a pair of black, glossy dress shoes. Recognizing the shoes as Betty Brant’s, a beautiful blonde girl who was determined and almost overly ambitious in everything she did.

She reminded you a lot of Cindy in that way, except Cindy didn’t need to be mean to people to get what she wanted.

You didn’t need to ask why a girl like Betty has been crying in the bathroom, you already heard from other people. Apparently before school the blonde asked the news teacher, Mr. Washington if she could be on air doing the school’s announcements instead of Jason. Even be his co anchor, anything.

He told her she couldn’t, that Jason was a better fit for the job. But that kid was a bonehead, and you’ve been silently hoping everyone would wake up and get him kicked out of the news room.

Though she could be a little mean, she didn’t deserve to be crying in the girls restroom at lunch. “Betty.” You call out, walking toward the stall a little.

She scoffs, “Of course someone has to recognize me. What do you want?” Her voice cracks near the end, and it’s scratchy from all the crying.

Deciding to be a little bold you swallow all potential fear and speak your mind. “I want you to go back in there. Ask again.”

With a click, the stall opens, revealing a tall blonde haired mess. Her mascara has smudged a little under her eyes, and her button nose is red.

“He already told me no, I can’t just ask again.” She snaps, looking at you angrily.

Your jaw drops, “Are you kidding me? You’re Betty Brant! You take 7-8 Journalism in a class full of seniors! You have a book filled with college essay prompts, that you shouldn’t be thinking about for another year at least. When have you ever taken no for an answer?”

Now it’s her turn for her jaw to drop and she just stares at you in shock. Finally, she shakes her head, “You’re right. I am Betty Brant.”

You smile, watching her wipe the tears and mascara from her face.

“I deserve this.” She whispers, gripping the straps of her backpack.

Quickly she walks out of the bathroom as you shake your head with amusement.

A few moments later she comes back in, still looking a little red.

“Thank you, ________.” Betty tells you, a shy smile on her face.

You return it, “Of course.”

Since that day, you start inviting Betty to sit with you and Cindy at lunch. It doesn’t take long for the three of you to build what feels like an unbreakable bond. Which is why you should be significantly less anxious than you are now.

Earlier in the week you invited the two of them to a sleepover at your house. Your main intention being to tell them about your big, lesbian crush on Michelle Jones.

Throughout the week you tried different ways to break the news, but it never seemed like the right place or the right time.

Even though it was considered, a giant card that says, ‘I’M GAY.’ when you open it is far too blunt, so you decide to do it in your home.

This way, if anything goes wrong you can kick them out and you won’t have to worry about walking away with tears in your eyes.

You take a sip of soda in hopes that it will ease the beating of your heart and exhale loudly, and deeply.

“Are you okay?” Betty asks with furrowed brows, still gripping the strands of Cindy’s hair.

You nod, “I’m fine, I just-” You pause, thinking of every bad reaction they could have to your news.

“______, You can talk to us. We’re always here for you.” Your other friend replies, giving you a smile.

God, this can’t be happening now. In the shower it was a lot easier, but now they’re here and it’s real and harder than anything you could have ever imagined. Closing your eyes, you sigh again,

“Right. So do you remember the other day when you two were talking about your crushes?”

Cindy looks at you with a strange smile on her face, “Yeah?”

“Do you remember when I said I liked Peter?”

Betty raises an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“I lied.”

Instantly, Cindy jumps up, her hair slipping from Betty’s fingertips. “I knew it!” She exclaims, a grin on her face. “That was just so weird. I never thought you’d be interested in a guy like Peter.”

“That is weird,” You start, nodding your head in agreement. “Especially because I’m not interested in a guy like anyone.”

And just like that, it’s out in the open. They know now, they know you don’t like boys. Well, maybe they don’t know because you said it in a rather vague way- but they knew something.

Betty narrows her eyes playfully, “What’s her name?”

Your heart skips a beat. How the hell did she figure it out so quickly? Instead of asking, you bite the inside of your cheek and answer her question. “Michelle.”

Now it’s Betty’s turn to jump up, “I knew it!” She grins, clapping her hands together. “Every time she walks into a room you do the thing!”

You furrow your brows, looking between the smug look on Betty’s face and the surprised look on Cindy’s. “What thing?”

Cindy stares off into space, her lips pursed in thought. “Now that I think about it, you do have a tendency to do that whenever she’s around.”

“Guys?” You ask nervously, voice reaching a higher pitch. “What thing?”

Betty flashes a shit eating grin, “Your ears twitch!”

Shaking your head, you object. “No they don’t!”

“Yes, they do.” Cindy says, starting to laugh. “Earlier this week she walked into the library and I swear they lifted up and down like ten times.” She starts to laugh.

You feel your cheeks start to heat.

“Flash even noticed, he called you Dumbo, remember?”

Bitterly, you bite your lip. You do remember that, you also remember snapping at him and getting hushed by the librarian. “Well, Flash is an asshole.”

They tease you about the subject for a few minutes and then their laughs begin to fill the room. It doesn’t take long for you to join them.

“Wait, seriously,” You begin after the laughter has died down.“Neither of you have a problem with me being…?” It seemed too real to say it out loud, so you swallow the word and look down.

Betty hums, glancing at the dark haired girl next to her for some help. “I mean-”

Cindy makes eye contact with the blonde and shrugs her shoulders. “We kind of already knew.”

An overwhelming sense of relief floods over you. There was no fighting, no screaming, no homophobic comments being thrown around. You’re okay, and they’re okay too.

The blonde girl nods in agreement, “We’ve sort of been knocking on the closet door for the past month.”

In all honesty, you don’t give your friends enough credit. They’re both incredibly smart, and they know you better than anyone.

Now you start to wonder if there was a double meaning behind the strange questions relating to sports teams and if you prefer glazed donuts as to maple bars.

Thinking of this makes tears of joy well up in your eyes, “Well, aren’t you glad I just opened it for you guys?” 

Betty laughs again, “Of course we are. I feel grateful that you trust us enough to tell us.”

Cindy notices the tears that have began to spill onto your puffed up cheeks, “Don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry.” She tells you, a sad smile on her face.

“I just-” The words, ‘don’t cry’ have prompted you to cry even harder now, and you stop to choke back a sob. “I love you guys so much.”

“______!” Betty exclaims in a slight whine, holding out her arms wide. Without missing a beat, you scoot yourself over to her and let yourself be engulfed by her warm body as you cry into her t-shirt.

You feel another body come from behind you, draping their arms over the two of you. The feeling of soft tears comes upon your shoulder that indicate Cindy is indeed crying. She sniffles, “We love you too.”

Sitting squished between your two best friends is not how you planned on this conversation going, but you’re glad it turned out this way.

Just as you were there for the girl half asleep in the library and the girl drowning in her own tears in the bathroom, they are both here for you.

And right now, that’s all you need.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “The Crypt Keeper’s Boy” (Rated PG13)

Blaine Anderson (not his real name) wandered into Gethsemani Cemetery as a child, escaping the man who slaughtered his entire family in their sleep. Blaine was taken in by the residents of the cemetery, and raised by Kurt, the vampire Guardian of Gethsemani Cemetery. But Blaine is no longer a toddler. It is time for him to leave.

But can he leave the only home he's ever known, along with the family who raised him?

Especially his caretaker, Kurt? (5776 words)

Written for @vampireisabitstrong @todaydreambelieversfic gift exchange prompt - A 'Graveyard Book' AU: Blaine wanders into the Graveyard as a toddler, and is met by Kurt, the graveyard's protector and resident Vampire. The graveyard folk raise Blaine as their own, give him the freedom of the graveyard, and all the while he stays within the gates and grounds, he is safe and protected from whatever he was running from when he first passed through the gates as a child. In this version, though, Blaine grows closer to Kurt as he grows up, and it is Kurt that takes him outside of the gates in the end, back into the world. (Ideally, the graveyard folk would be made up of other Glee Club members. Up to you who the Big Bad is, and what they did that made Blaine leave his home as a child and toddle into the graveyard to begin with!)

I've been writing this forever. I had to read the book to write it. I've changed it a million times, and I still don't think I've gotten it right, but there's nothing more I can do to improve it. So, here it is ... and I'm sorry. :/

Read on AO3.

Kurt watches Blaine shake the die in his cupped hands, taking far too long on this one roll at this point in their game.

“Blaine,” he says with a slight clearing of his throat. “I don’t want to throw you off your groove but could you be a gem and toss that die already? We don’t have all night.”

“Why?” Blaine asks, stalling in order to shake the die a few seconds longer. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

Kurt glares at Blaine, silently scolding his young ward for behaving like a common smart ass, but becomes bewitched by the mild note of teasing in his eyes.

“Not tonight,” Kurt says dryly, the kind of dry that conceals, like a blanket of dead leaves on the forest floor hiding scores of life underneath. “But next week I do have an appointment, so I’d rather not be late.”

Blaine drops the die. The pieces leap into the air when the cube hits the board. It somersaults across and tumbles to a stop, but before Blaine reads his roll, Kurt announces it.

“Five! Wonderful! Now, move your piece. Go on.”

Blaine shakes his head at Kurt’s excitement as he relocates his piece.

“… three … four … five! Good boy! Now …” Kurt sniffs, preparing to ask his question with a fair degree of grandiosity “… this is for the green wedge.” He rolls the ‘r’ on the word as if to make it sound that much more important. He plucks a card from the box on his side of the game board. Even though his vision is exemplary, he holds it up to his eyes as if it requires the utmost scrutiny. “Name the largest freshwater lake in the world.” Once the question passes over his lips, he flicks the card into hiding, presumably to keep Blaine from cheating by reading the answer on the opposite side, which Kurt had been covering anyway with his long, bony fingers.

Blaine rolls his eyes. The question is ridiculously easy. “Lake Superior. Kurt! Come on! I think you’re letting me win.”

“Nonsense. You’re a bright boy.” Kurt returns the card to the box, sliding it in carefully amongst its compatriots with an unnecessary push of his index finger. These cards are academic, and painfully obedient. They return themselves to their spots on their own just fine. They even put themselves in order when the game is finished, depending on which subject won the day. Of course, no one knows for certain what order that is.

The cards refuse to tell.

“That’s because I have a brilliant teacher.” Blaine beams with pride. “And yet you, the smartest person I have ever met, only have one wedge in his game piece.”

Kurt tuts his tongue in disgust and thrusts his nose in the air. “And listen to how you insult me.”

Blaine’s eyes become painfully wide. If there is one thing he would never intentionally do, it’s insult his caretaker. “How did I insult you?”

“You called me a person. I haven’t been a person for hundreds of years.”

Blaine chuckles. It’s difficult to tell sometimes when Kurt is kidding. “Fine. The smartest vampire I have ever met.”

“I am the only vampire you have ever met, young man,” Kurt reminds him. “But that’s not the point. I have no wedges because I am not landing on any wedge spaces. But you are.”

“A-ha. So how come every time I land on a wedge space, I get a question that even a first grader could answer?”

“You’re also a very lucky boy,” Kurt says, hiding the subtlest hint of a smile behind the know-it-all wink he gives. Kurt tries to pick up the miniscule green wedge, but his long fingernails get in the way. An attempt to then pick up the wedge with just his fingernails fails equally as spectacularly. But when Blaine looks down at his game piece, the wedge has settled in as if it had always been there. Blaine runs the pad of his index finger over it, even though it’s the farthest thing from his mind.

“I don’t know why I need to learn all of this stuff anyway,” he mumbles. “Isn’t this out-world learning? I mean, I read, I write, I know my numbers. That’s all I need being in here. Who cares about the Colosseum and the pyramids, the capital of Uruguay and the source of the Nile River? I’m never gonna see them.”

“Oh, you never know.” Kurt collects the die to roll his turn, patting Blaine on top his head of curly hair. “There may come a time when you’ll want to venture outside our gates. And then all of this out-world learning, as you call it, will serve you well.”

Blaine looks up from his game piece with a vague but mixed expression. “Leave?” Blaine’s teeth chatter around the word. “You w-want me to leave?”

Kurt hears the hesitation in Blaine’s voice, the mounting fear, and his chest clenches around a heart that no longer exists.

Kurt knows Blaine as well as any mind can know another. Blaine came to live in the cemetery when he was but a toddler on chubby legs, searching for a place of safety. Kurt remembers that night … vividly. He hopes that Blaine doesn’t think about it too often, but not a day goes by that Kurt has not. He wasn’t present to receive Blaine when the boy arrived, but he has glimpsed enough from the thoughts of others to piece together an accurate recollection of the evening’s events.

From the mind of Will Schuester, the self-appointed mayor of their ghostly hamlet, Kurt saw a dark figure enter Blaine’s house. The boy’s family had lived across the rarely traveled road that separates the town of the living and that of the dead. The single, black asphalt strip, littered with decaying flora on the cemetery side but clean as a church pew on the opposite, is a stark delineation between the lively city and the outlying graveyard. Most of the ghosts in the graveyard choose not to look farther than the street, the memories of their former lives too painful to dwell upon, so why Will chose that one night to peek across, Kurt will never know. But he is grateful the man did, even if he would never tell him as much.

From the mind of Will’s wife Emma, the woman who used to be the high school guidance counselor in Lima over two hundred years ago, Kurt had seen a crying Blaine stumbling through the cold, walking barefoot over broken twigs and sharp stones to reach her outstretched arms. She couldn’t leave the grounds to get to him – none of the dead could – and she fought back tears while she coaxed him, trying to assure him that he would be safe once he reached the protection of the grey stone wall.

But it was from the mind of Brittany S. Pierce - a pretty, blonde resident who had been killed in a car accident and buried recently at the time - that Kurt saw the whole dastardly deed unfold. A gangly man with a shock of red hair atop his narrow head had entered Blaine’s home for no reason that Kurt knew and murdered Blaine’s whole family – mother, father, brother, even family pets: one loyal dog who had tried his hardest to warn his masters but, sadly, never got a single bark out; and a lonely little love bird who had lost its mate a few months earlier. Hers was the only happy ending to the tale since, after her demise, she was lonely no more.

Brittany’s girlfriend, Santana Lopez, who had perished in the car crash alongside her, supplied for Kurt a name - Rick “The Stick” Nelson, a local thug.

Once Blaine made his way through the cemetery gates, its magic shielded the boy from the eyes of Rick, who came lurking not minutes later in search of the child, determined to leave none alive. The inhabitants of Gethsemani Cemetery fell in love with Blaine immediately, and granted him freedom of the graveyard so that he may stay with them and be safe. But it was Kurt, Keeper of the Crypt and Guardian of Gethsemani, who decided to call the young boy Blaine. Blaine Anderson for, in their tiny township of Lima, Ohio, Anderson was the very first of the surnames listed in the phone book.

Kurt felt it fitting since Blaine was the first living human to ever inhabit their humble patch of grass and stone.

As much as Kurt tried to make a home there for the child – installing Blaine in Kurt’s own decrepit crypt and supplying him with all of the comforts he could manage - Kurt never felt that the graveyard was an appropriate place for a child to be raised. But there was no one for him, no remaining family that Kurt could find, no safety outside their walls, and it was declared by unanimous decision that Blaine should stay until more suitable arrangements could be made. It became Kurt’s job (also by unanimous decision) to come up with those “more suitable arrangements”. And he tried. But as time went on, it was easier to keep Blaine with them than to search for help elsewhere. Kurt prayed that over time Blaine would simply long to leave the graveyard and venture out into the world. Kurt prepared him as best he could for the day, teaching him math and languages and history and art. He cultivated Blaine’s natural talent for music, a passion they both shared, and told him stories of all the wonders he had seen traveling. Over time, Kurt became more than Blaine’s caretaker. He became Blaine’s closest companion.

Ironically, Kurt was the main reason why Blaine wanted to stay.

And therein lay a bigger conundrum, for Blaine wasn’t who he appeared to be. On the outside, he was a boy of around thirteen when, in reality, he was actually quite a bit older. There’s a certain magic to cemeteries. Since life stops there, on occasion, so does time. A century could zip by in the matter of a blink, and those within would measure it as only a day. As Blaine lived within the boundaries of this magic, he became affected by it, too.

He may look thirteen, but he definitely didn’t feel thirteen. He often described himself as an old soul, but that was to cover his confusion. There are so many things about himself that he doesn’t understand.

All he does know is that he has no wish to leave the graveyard.

And he especially has no wish to be parted from Kurt.

“I never said that I wanted you to leave,” Kurt amends. He closes the die in his fist, preparing for his turn. He had wanted to keep this conversation lighthearted, but it has begun to cloud like the indigo sky overhead.

“But, you think I should,” Blaine clarifies as if Kurt doesn’t understand his own thoughts. “A---alone? I … I don’t want to go alone. If I leave here, I want to go with you.”

Kurt smiles as best he can. He is, admittedly, a little out of practice, but he has become more acquainted with his long, lost grin the more he spends time with Blaine.

“We’ll see,” he says to pacify him, though in the depths of his cavernous chest, he feels it’s not possible. Blaine is human. Kurt is a vampire. In the storybooks, those kinds of relationships don’t end well. In real life, less so. “Who knows what the future holds.”

Little did Kurt know that those would be the truest words he has ever spoken in any of his life times.

***

“Have you seen today’s paper?”

Kurt sighs as if the start of this conversation might be the end of his sanity … what’s left of it, anyway.

“To which paper are you referring?” he says, not properly acknowledging the man who persists on thrusting a daily paper beneath his nose. Kurt can tell from just a glance that it was once crumpled, then flattened, and folded so many times that it’s almost completely unreadable. That won’t be an obstacle for him, of course, but it offends him that Will didn’t at least try to find him a cleaner copy. “The New York Times? The Chicago Tribune? Variety?”

“The Lima Gazette.” Will drops the paper on Kurt’s lap, forcing him to accept it whether he wants to or not.

“Hmph. I stopped reading the paper in this town ages ago,” Kurt grumbles, shoving the thing away.

“Be that as it may, I think you may want to read today’s.”

“And why would you think that? Is there a sale on vests at Sears? That may be of interest to you, but not to me.”

“Page ten, upper right,” Will instructs, tapping the paper with his index finger.

Kurt groans and picks up the paper. Will obviously has a spider gnawing at his craw and won’t be satisfied until Kurt reads what he wants him to read. Not that any of that is Kurt’s concern, except now he’s curious. He flips to page ten, folds the paper back, and begins to read.

“Rick “The Stick” Nelson …” Kurt speak the name with a growl that sends a few poltergeists out on the prowl scurrying back to their caves “… alleged murderer, found dead.” Kurt scans through the article, less interested in the details than the fact that this despicable man is gone. “Gunshot wound to the head … no leads … discovered in his car late Saturday evening. Ah, well. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man. Goodbye and good riddens.” Kurt reads through the article again, a bit more carefully the second time, when a vile thought occurs to him. His eyes flick up to Will’s face with a hint of urgency when he doesn’t find the information he’s looking for. “They’re not burying him here, are they?”

“No. I asked around. They’re interring him in a family crypt over in Columbus.”

“I didn’t know he had any family to mourn for him.”

“He doesn’t. The crypt will be empty aside from him. The rest of his family had long made arrangements to be buried elsewhere. They even had the bodies of their dead relatives removed. They wanted nothing to do with him. No one knows where they’ve gone.”

“Dead and alone,” Kurt muses with a grim smile. “Quite fitting seeing as he took everyone that Blaine loved away.”

“Not everyone.”

Kurt peers curiously at Will through red-pupiled blue eyes. Will looks back at Kurt with a sympathy and compassion so bittersweet it makes Kurt want to vomit - a sensation he hasn’t endured in centuries. Once that subsides, Kurt becomes bemused.

“I don’t think I quite catch your meaning there, Schuester.”

“You know, Kurt, you were never meant to spend forever here, either.” Will gazes out over the moss-covered headstones and crumbling statues, some so weathered and worn that they’ve begun to melt into the earth, untended, forgotten. “You can come and go as you please, but you remained here for him.”

“Where would I go? Hmm? All of my clothes are here,” Kurt jokes. The truth is he hasn’t a stitch of his personal effects left save what he wears on his person, which he changes from time to time without telling a soul where he gets the replacements.

“You can go with Blaine,” Will suggests. “Keep an eye on him. You seem to be quite attached to him.”

Kurt tilts his head, puzzled over the way Will punctuates the word attached, making it stand out, seem more important than it should be. “I don’t completely grasp what you’re implying, Will, but what I do grasp, I don’t think I like.”

“You love him,” Will says significantly. “In your own way. And, I think that, for as far as he knows, Blaine loves you, too.”

“All the more reason for him to leave this place” - Kurt gazes murderously at the newspaper, the words upon it melding into pitch black voids - “and for me to stay behind.”

“You’re always telling Blaine about the world beyond our cemetery and how he should finally experience it; that happiness for him lies outside our borders. But don’t you think you deserve a chance at happiness, too?”

“My life is done,” Kurt says with a finality that starts a chill breeze howling through the trees.

Will shrugs. “So it is … as you once knew it. But perhaps you can start a new life, so to speak. Find happiness again.”

“With Blaine?” Kurt asks, offended, not at the thought of finding happiness with Blaine. If Kurt could love, and he wasn’t sure that he could anymore, he might admit to loving Blaine. It was a definite possibility. It’s the notion of him finding happiness at all that Kurt finds ridiculous. In life, the very universe seemed dead set on ripping everything good away from him – his mother and father, a beloved stepbrother, his career, and finally, his future.

So, if he finds happiness with Blaine, it would mean that he first had to die a horrible, gruesome death; wander the world suffering the pangs of his insatiable thirst; remain in isolation for hundreds of years; live off of the blood of rats and vermin; exist in the dank and the shadows, just to find it?

That seems like a cruel joke.

No. Kurt is unnatural, so any feelings that Kurt has for Blaine are unnatural.

And Blaine would be better off without him.

But instead of tell Will any of that, Kurt shakes with quiet laughter. Will sighs in disappointment.

“Just about everyone here would do the unthinkable to be in your shoes, Kurt,” Will says. “In my opinion, you’d be an idiot not to take advantage of it.”

Kurt stands from the bench he’d been sitting on pondering the same sentiment, convincing himself of its absurdity before Will even arrived. But having this little talk with Schuester has all but made up his mind. Kurt tosses the paper back at him and sneers. “Duly noted, mayor.”

***

It’s midnight on a Tuesday when Blaine breaks down and goes in search of Kurt. The only reason Blaine knows it’s Tuesday is because he’s been counting the days. Not long after their game of Trivial Pursuit, Kurt disappeared, melted into the shadows inside his crypt, and hasn’t materialized since. It isn’t uncommon for Kurt to leave the cemetery and be gone for days at a time. Even weeks. But after the subject of their last conversation, Blaine has become afraid that he might not see Kurt again for longer and Blaine doesn’t want that. His days are boring without Kurt to talk to, to play games with, to read books to, to sing with. Kurt has the most intriguing voice. Beautiful and haunting. Even when Kurt isn’t around, Blaine hears his voice in his head so clearly, it’s almost as if Kurt resides there, among the hills and valleys of Blaine’s brain, singing his elegiac songs and basking in the moonlight of Blaine’s mind.

Blaine circles the graveyard twice – once jogging from east to west, and the second time, from west to east. He investigates every crypt and mausoleum, crawls inside a few empty graves, then checks behind the headstones. By the time he’s done, he has collected half the cemetery on the sleeves of his sweater and the knees of his jeans, and yet he doesn’t find head or tail of Kurt. From the top of the highest hill where Kurt’s crypt stands, Blaine sees Will Schuester standing by the wall of the cemetery, staring out into the street, and decides to see if he knows anything.

“Mr. Schue! Mr. Schue!”

Will turns from his watch to see Blaine race down the embankment. Sometimes Will thinks he catches a glimpse of the man Blaine is, but then the clouds shift, the moonlight hits his eyes, and Blaine is a boy again.

“Yes, Blaine.”

“Where’s Kurt?”

“He went on an errand, I suppose.”

“Will he be back?”

And there, Will has no answer. He had hoped that Kurt would be back soon, but there was no way of knowing with him. Like most things that walk the Earth without a heartbeat, vampires have no concept of time. Plus, vampires don’t have a reputation for being the loyalist of creatures. Will thought he knew how Kurt felt about Blaine, but he may have taken Kurt’s affection for granted.

Maybe he felt nothing aside from obligation for Blaine.

“Did he leave … because of me?” Blaine asks after Will’s silence.

“Yes,” Will confesses. “But not in the way that you think.”

Blaine frowns down at his filthy shoes. If Kurt were there, he wouldn’t stand for the condition of his shoes. He’d make Blaine clean them immediately, Lord only knows why. But it’s a reminder that Kurt isn’t there – not to tell him to clean his shoes, not to do anything. “How do I make him come back?”

“You can’t make anyone do anything, I’m afraid,” Will says sadly since he, too, had been wondering the exact same thing. The residents of the graveyard had summoned Kurt before. Could Will do it now? Would Kurt answer the call? “You can only give him the time to decide whether or not he wants to.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, more melancholy than ever. What if Kurt decides not to come back? Blaine can’t imagine the graveyard without him.

Blaine can’t imagine his life without him.

“And … what do I do in the meantime?”

“What would Kurt tell you to do?”

“He would tell me to learn. To study. To prepare myself for the next step in my life. But … I don’t know what that step is.”

“Well” – Will puts a hand to Blaine’s shoulder – “maybe in order to go forward, you need to go back.” He gives Blaine a fond smile, then goes back to staring over the wall.

Back to where? Blaine wonders. Back to the beginning? Back to the beginning for Blaine would be Kurt’s crypt, the place where he was first brought when he came to the graveyard, the place where he has learned everything so far that he knows. Blaine trundles his way up the hill and locks himself inside. And while he’s there, he reads. He reads about world history and science, about music and art. He reads every magazine Kurt keeps, every newspaper stacked in the corner, the oldest of the lot at the very bottom disintegrating into the floor. Blaine reads and he waits - waits to talk to Kurt, waits to apologize, waits to do whatever it takes to make Kurt stay.

***

Kurt does eventually come back, and when he does, it’s on a Thursday. Not the Thursday immediately following. It takes more time than that. Kurt would have called what he was doing soul searching if he had one. But it was more along the lines of life searching. He traveled to his old haunts – not the places he’s lurked as a vampire, but the places he frequented as a human. Places that held within them specters of his once daily life, privy in some way or another to his hopes and dreams – his childhood home (now the parking lot of a strip mall), his father’s shop, the university he attended.

He searched for life’s meaning … and why he should want one with Blaine.

He found himself, after much reminiscing, in the back alley where he had been changed. He imagined Blaine there, slightly drunk, pressed against the wall by one like himself, his life altered for all eternity.

He saw himself as the one to do it, to betray Blaine’s trust and give him this dark gift in defiance of his wishes – the way it was given to him.

Because Kurt saw himself as the baddest of the bad. He had the potential to become the evil that had spawned him. It was inside him. It had eaten away his innocence, hollowed him out and then filled him from head to toe with venom. Blaine had run from a horrible stroke of destiny, one that would have ended his life, but by leaving the cemetery with Kurt, wasn’t Blaine risking that same thing all over again? Outside the walls that had protected Blaine for so many years from the beast who had slaughtered his family, he would be away from the protection of the graveyard. And that was fine. All humans were. But most of those humans didn’t invite demons into their homes.

Blaine would be.

But Blaine has faith in Kurt, faith in the vampire who fed him, clothed him, tucked him in at night, and sat with him when he felt scared.

Maybe Kurt should start having faith in himself, too.

He didn’t have it yet. No amount of traveling around the world could give that to him. He’d need to find it inside himself, and fast, considering the way Blaine runs to greet him, barreling down the hill the second Kurt walks through the cemetery gates as if he’d been gone a year.

Had he been? Kurt doesn’t know. He should probably find out.

“You came back,” Blaine pants, smiling ear to ear.

“Yes, I did.” Kurt says. “I always do.”

“I don’t … I didn’t know,” Blaine admits. “This time, I wasn’t so sure.”

“I’m sorry, Blaine,” Kurt says with honest remorse, “but I needed some time. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“And?”

“And I feel that you should leave this cemetery, Blaine. Today, if not sooner.”

Blaine’s eyes explode open, his jaw dropping till it hangs to his chest. “To---today?”

“Yes, Blaine. You are old enough to step outside these walls and start a new life. It’s time.”

Blaine shakes his head, the heart inside him pounding like the pistons of a runaway train. Where would he go? What would he do? How would he survive? But more importantly:

“If I leave … I’ll be alone.”

Kurt smiles. It warms his entire face. It looks almost human. “No, you won’t, because I’ll be going with you.”

Blaine’s eyes don’t decrease in size. They might even get bigger. “You … you will?”

“Yes.” Kurt reaches out a hand and closes Blaine’s mouth so that the ghouls circling the ground beneath his feet don’t get any ideas. “I’ve grown rather … attached to you, to borrow a phrase. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not all that fond of being alone, either. Besides, you’re not the only one here who needs a change of scenery.”

“Ho---how did you decide this?” Blaine stammers, still in shock. “When? Why?”

“Those are all fabulous questions,” Kurt says. “But I think that they will be better answered once we leave here and I show you a few things.”

“We’re going to travel?” Blaine asks, as apprehensive as he is excited.

“For a bit. I have secured us a means of transportation.” He waves ambiguously over his shoulder to a large, black vehicle. At first glance, Blaine thinks it looks a bit like a hearse, with its long rear and tinted windows (for Kurt’s comfort during the day). His stomach twists into knots thinking of riding in it. He’s never ridden in a car before. And now he’s going to be traveling in one … with Kurt. “If you don’t mind, of course. If you would rather leave without me, I know of a family who would be more than willing to take you in.”

The family in question is Kurt’s own, descendants he visited, introduced himself to, and flattered just enough to ensure that they would take Blaine in if need be. But Blaine starts shaking his head before Kurt’s sentence is done.

“No,” he says. “I want to be with you. I don’t want to live with anyone else.”

Kurt is as relieved as he is worried by Blaine’s eager answer. “So be it.”

The news of Kurt and Blaine leaving spirals around the graveyard with the speed of a spectral stallion. The residents of the cemetery, every single one, rise from their graves and gather at the gates to say goodbye to the boy they’ve grown to see as their own. Even though Kurt took on the bulk of the responsibility, everyone had a part in his raising. Emma was like a mother to him; Will, like a father. Brittany taught him how to dance, and Santana taught him to play poker. Another ghost by the name of Beiste taught him how to box. So even if Blaine had decided to leave alone, he wouldn’t actually be.

He’d be taking a piece of everyone from Gethsemani with him.

“Blaine,” Kurt says, taking his hand, “before we leave, there’s something I want you to know.”

Blaine, taking deep, calming breaths, doesn’t look at Kurt, too focused on what he’s about to do to turn his head and speak at the same time. “Yes?”

“While I was out and about, I came across your real name. Would you like me to tell it to you?”

Blaine thinks about that. His name is an important thing. It’s a connection to his past, to people who once loved him. He should honor them by knowing it. But, then again, the name he has was given to him by those who raised and loved him. They’re just as much Blaine’s family as his mom and dad and brother were.

There’s no use dwelling on the past. Nothing he can do will bring his family back, or change who he is.

Will had said that sometimes moving forward meant going back.

But not this time.

“I know my name isn’t Blaine,” he says, “but I don’t want any other. Blaine is the name I know. You gave it to me, and … it suits me. It suits who I am. I may not have started out my life as Blaine Anderson, but that’s who I grew up to be. I don’t want to be split in two.”

“If that’s what you wish.”

“Yes. That’s what I wish.” Blaine stalls a moment longer. He knows that he is about to embark on a great adventure, but it still terrifies him. “Will you ever tell me the story of your life?”

“I will,” Kurt says. He understands Blaine’s fear. It’s the same fear he felt the night he opened his eyes to find he was no longer human. It’s the fear of change. But all things change. Blaine needs to embrace the change in order for him to live. “But first, we must go to a place that is more appropriate for the telling.”

This cemetery where Blaine has lived is just a small corner of the world. Blaine knows that. He looks over the wall. He’s been looking at that wall for most of his life. It’s been the edge of his universe. He has tried to see it through the eyes of the mourners who visit, the ones who come on birthdays and holidays, or after church on Sundays. They come out of respect, out of obligation. If it were up to them, they probably wouldn’t come at all. They look at this slate-colored stone, covered in slimy green moss, continually moist even when the air is dry, and see their own mortality.

But Blaine sees home. This chipped and broken wall has been his white picket fence.  He looks past the wall at the sidewalk, silvery beneath the moonlight, sparkling like the star laden sky. Dust moved by the wind paints swirls across its surface. Invisible fingers seem to move it, creating an almost perfect reflection of the Milky Way. It’s beautiful, undeniably, but it’s also the unknown. And in the same way that old, gloomy graveyards frighten the living, the unknown terrifies Blaine.

He swallows hard.

“Do you really think that life out there is better than life in here?”

“Yes, my child,” Kurt replies. “It has to be. For all of the life in the world lies beyond theses gates. Alas, there is no life in here.”

It was for Kurt once. It would have been for Blaine. Neither can retrieve what has been lost, but maybe it could be if they start over together.

“Are you ready, Blaine?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then. On the count of three. One … two …”

“Three,” Blaine finishes.

Kurt takes the first step, but Blaine’s step follows his so closely, it seems like they walk through the gate together. They step over the threshold onto the white sidewalk and the spell of the graveyard is severed. Blaine grows a few inches in height, and by about fifty pounds. He is broad shouldered, muscular. His hair is longer, but retains its curl. His face adjusts by angles, sharpening at the jaw and the brow. But his eyes – his inquisitive gold eyes – remain much the same. They have seen mostly sorrow, and don’t have an acquaintance with the world aside from books and newspapers.

That is something that Kurt has longed to change for many, many years.

On the other hand, when Kurt steps over the threshold, he begins to shrink, no longer the towering, grey-skinned monster Blaine has grown so fond of.

Kurt’s skin becomes pale, and there is little red remaining in his ice blue eyes.

When they look at one another, they seem roughly the same age.

“What … what just happened?” Blaine asks, astonished by the man standing in front of him - not the man holding his hand, but the one he sees in the reflection of Kurt’s black SUV.

The man who is himself.

“Blaine,” Kurt says gently, “you are not a boy of thirteen. You only perceived yourself that way. You came to the graveyard to hide, and that is how the graveyard hid you. In truth, you are a man of twenty-two … as was I when I became a vampire. And it is from this point that you and I begin.”

“I will miss this place,” Blaine says. “It’s been my home, and everyone in it has been my family.”

“Well, that’s the thing about homes and family,” Kurt explains, idly straightening Blaine’s cuffs, fixing the wrinkle in his collar. “Good or bad, you carry them with you. But the good thing about this home is it’s a place you will someday return to.”

“Promise?”

Kurt stops fussing. He smiles sadly. “Oh yes. That’s a promise.”

[shardvixen]

Story 3 Survivalist Backpack Rough Draft 1: This story belongs to Eliza Jane Bout, please ask before you use any of it and give credit if you do use any of it.From the Den

When the world falls apart only the well prepared or the very lucky or both ended up surviving. It was best to be both because luck only lasted for so long while being prepared can keep one alive a bit longer if luck should fail you.

“Man will be the weapon that puts man back into prehistoric times, without a planet to stand on.” Dr. Raye

Emmaline Raye 

I never seemed to belong, and yeah,  I get that all teenagers say that, but I mean it. Since the moment of my birth it seemed. The other babies would cry until I left. My father named me after his favorite unknown singer/writer from the 1920s. I have always been fat. I know no one is suppose to say the word F.A.T. but that is what I was and still am to a degree fat. And to boot I was too smart for my own good. I loved to learn, a habit my father encouraged. I was smarter then many of my teachers. After a while the differences were to many to number. I was too dyke for this group, too girly for another group, to weird for the weird group So I kind of just stood alone. And here I am standing alone again. I am all alone and the world has ended.

Not like the physically or mephorically but civilaztion has come to a very quick halt. 1 in every 10,000 people is alive. I ended up a winner in a god’s lottery. Like some goddess happen to look into the mortal world and say damn I love that girls style, talking about me. So I win the stay alive ticket. I have to say I am really overjoyed, but Not. Here I am the biggest loser ever cause I didn’t even get invited to the biggest event of all, “ the ending of every thing any one knows.”

I don’t know why everyone is dead, in fact I don’t even know if they are dead, maybe they just went on holiday and left everything just standing. What I do know it that siome them seem to go up in a PUFF. Yeah go ahead and laugh, I’ll wait for you to finish. OK just let me tell you the story and you decide what you think. Let start with this one thought.

I was sitting in my history class on Friday morning, around 10 am.. I was in a college class at the local city college. I am just a bit too smart. That’s how the gods even things up. Really smart and no social skills. I am still debating which one is the best. At least I was beautiful and talented even if no one else saw it the same as I did.

I love history -I so get it. By knowing where we come from will help us decided whre we want to go. It was my 2nd class of the day and it had gotten started a little late. The teacher is lecturing on how heretics were burned at the stake. I look up at the clock and it showed that it was 10:15 AM. When all of a sudden the room got very braight and hot. I closed my eyes, just a blink and my eyes open to find sparkling grey dust falling from the ceiling, like sand being thrown up by a kid and then raining down. I cough and smelled a sulfuric smell like something burning. My eyes were burning. As my eyes start to tear up. I wipe my eyes and saw grey streaks on my hand. I put my head down, heart beating, shocked and confused. I waited thinking I was in a fire. I wa in a dull shock and my brain said freeze.

The dust settle and I was all alone. That got me freaking out. I finally just let out an ear piercing scream- long drawn out that left me panting. Just numbe felling and me panting. I ened up peeing my pants. I just sat and sat I didn’t know for how long. Slowly my heart slowed down and feeling came back, my brain realized that no one had shown up. I look around and saw little black circles on the chairs around me. Black circles with spikes pushing away from the center looking like a many pointed star.

I stood up and looked under my ass. Nope-no black many pointed star. I went to where the teacher was standing, yep black smudge marks there too. OK Like I said I am too smart for my own good, but my brain was having a real hard time understanding what was obvious. They blew up, they puffed in a ball of fire, self contain fire. Instantious Combustion. I have seen stories on TW and onlinem, but never really believe it. But nothing else, well maybe aliens or some secret government weapon, might have done it but that didn’t explain why I was still standing.

I back towards the window, I turned and look out the window and saw cars that had hit each other or were just stopped in the middle of the road. And grey dust , sust sparkling on the lawna nd black smudges on the sidewalk. This starts my heart beating again. I am racing, my thoughts, my heart. I am teering on the edge, Am I dreaming, having a halluciaation, a crazy episode. Yeah, right now I am sitting in a rubber room some where and this is all a dream. Maybe it is a stroke. I slid down the wall untill my ass hit’s the floor. I wait to see if my world comes back in focus. I sang the whole song, “ Stairway to heaven” Taking a deep breath, I stand up.

“ And she’s bying a a stairrrrrway to heAaaven.. OK, just close your eyes and every thing will come back. 1,2,3” I opened my eyes and nope all grey and ashy still. Damn. I stood looking at my favorite shoes wondering what I should do. I am startled by a crash and turn around to look outside and see that a car has ran up the grass and hit the side of the building across from me. From what I can tell there is no one in the car and then I see and hear more cars crashing in to each other. They are all empty as well. My mind kind of takes over and I realize that the reason I am seeing all the cars is because every one has done a poof and the cars were still moving so many minutes afterward based on how fast they were going. I begin stroking my braids something I had done since I was little and my mom would be doing her impression of a looney toon.

Damn I haven’t though of her in a long time. My mom is dead. I live, I mean I lived with my father who I called Poppy and my GrandMam(who was my mother’s mother). My Poppy and my mom got married when my Poppy was 48 and my mom was 18. My mom was a very crazy lady but no one knew that(except maybe my GrandMam and she didn’t tell). Yep you can see how that pissed off a lot of people. My Poppy believed her when she had said she just needed someone just like him and who knows maybe she meant it but no one will ever know because while she was having me three weeks after they got married, she had a stroke that killed most of her brain.

My Poppy quit teaching so that he could take care of her and me. When my GrandMam’s fourth husband died she moved in with us to take care of me. I wasn’t her only grandchild but I was the only one that she could get close to since not of her other children really like her much. My Poppy built her, her own house on our property. She was as smart if not smarter then my Poppy and later I always wondered how she ended up with my mom or being alienated by her other four kids. Apearrantly my mom was her favorite. My mom eventually die because she got out of the house and ended up in a pond. She may have been chasing frogs, which were a favorite past time and slipped. Her body was found about an hour later. She had drowned most likely because she couldn’t remember how to swim. I was seven at the time. I remember thinking that I was glad that she was gone because she was always doing looney stuff and she scared me. Then I felt really bad about not liking my own mom. Poppy really loved her and was always sad after that.

Oh I remembered where I was and where I wasn’t. Poppy, I need to get home. I need to get home. I need to get home. I was repeating it very quickly, almost in a panic but I wasn’t sure how I was going to get there. On Tues and Thurs I carpooled with a bunch of kids. I hoped on of them was around. I had a hard time wrapping the idea of what had happen around my brain.. I grabbed my bag and headed out the classroom door. I didn’t really pay much attention of my surroundings then, I learned my lesson later.

For some reason I went to the theater parking lot even though my class had faced the entrance of the school. Then I remembered that Jean always parked her car in that lot even though it was the furthers from Jean’s class. I think I just wanted to go by the art class, oil painting was going on. As I passed the art gallery and classroom, I stopped. I put my hands on the glass that normally allowed you to watch the painters but there was no painters and I could see the ash laying on the paints and the pictures like tiny pieces of glitter. It was just too much, so I hurry around the back of the building to the parking lot.

I looked around the parking lot seeing that I either had to take one of the cars that was already started or hope that some one else was here in a car or I would be walking. Some of the cars were pushing into each other and I suddenly understood that was because the car’s driver had poofed just like everyone else and the cars ran into each other. The exit out of the parking lot was blocked. I decided to cut across the school towards the entrance of Shasta College. I looked and cars were still moving off the road while there were some here and there that had just stopped. Mostly because they might be a manuel and once the gas was let up, the car stopped and the engine stalled. I run across the campus because I started to releazie that there was no one around and it was very scary to me to be the only person around.

As I ran acrossed the little bridge that went over the little creek to come out on Old Oregon Trail I hear car engins rumbling and saw cars off to the side and some on the roads. I wasn’t sure what to do. I could walk home. For a moment I considered my options and then I walked to the nearest car just idling in the road. It was moving ever so slowly backward like just before its driver poofed or disappeared or whatever, the person had been backing up their car out of the cleared area that was next to the church. I tried the door and found that it open. I saw the gray dust and chared leather like material of the seats. At first I just let the open door keep hitting me forcing me to move with the car until I took a deep breathe and jump into the seat. The car was one of those big SUV types that Poppy told me would be the death of the planet, if we didn’t make sure that they were ‘green ‘before buying them.

It sat up higher then I was use to in a car but at least it was comfortable. The radio was playing from an Ipod. I turned it off to see if I could find out anything but a song from 103 red was playing. I don’t’ know why but that seem odd to me, guessed I figured that the person driving had been a young person, while 103 Red was the classic rock station. Bad me for assuming that only old people listen to classic rock. Poppy liked lots of kinds of music but Big Band was one of his favorite styles as well as celtic music featuring bag pipes and fiddles.

I only lived about ten miles from the college going north west. Poppy had bought a big tract of land in 1981, so that he could have various gardens going. He had builded his own little paradise on the top of a hill. I could walk to the end of our property and see all of the northern part of the Sacramento Valley. We had five green houses a huge front and back yard which were really fields that he grew different types of grass in. Trees and hedges mixed with blackberry bushes and aloe vera made natural fences with the real fence hidden from view.

My Poppy was an old hippie who loved plants and piano. Our house sat about two miles off of Walker Mine Rd off of Lake Blvd. There were other houses but the nearest one was about a mile down the hill. My Poppy ’s name was Harold Kevin Raye. He was youngest of a Ranger in the US Army. His father had been very parinoid and made sure that all his children would be prepared for the ending of the world. Poppy had been born 1944. He was 25 years younger then his oldest sibling. His mother had die in childbirth. Poppy had been raised by all of his sisters and he entered college because he had a love for plants. He was a beatnick and then a hippi. In the 1970s he wrote two series of books on surviving on one’s own. The fist set that contain ten books was called Hippie’s Paradise. The second set was called The Survivilst Backpack. I haven’t read the second set at all but I have read all the Hippi books.

Poppy after writing the first series began travaling. He came through Northern California during a talk circuit about the importance of saving the world’s plants. He was an author for fun though he held a doctore in botny, he would say to me how funny it was that he got paid more for his writing then for his plants. His hobby was paino playing and he made money doing that as well. Poppy was a very talent but lonely man.

He had many friends all over the world but no one special until one night he was on his way back from Eureka where he had some friends who own a bar in Blue Lake. He would go over that way about three times a year to play piano. He would spend the weekend and walk the beach and buy some seeds from the local nurseries and pot growers. He was at his favorite coffehouse in Eurkea watching the waves come in when he saw this nymph, a mermaid, a goddess that was dancing on the beach. Poppy had said that he had just sat there watching this vision of beauty, thinking, wishing that he could meet someone like her. Someone who could be free and dance no matter where they were at.

On his way back east to Redding, he left Clam beach and saw a his goddess hitchhiking and he went about a mile and turned around and offered her a ride. This woman who was only 17 was my mother. Lexi, Alexendria Harris. My mother was a vision of beauty when she was pregnant with me. He offered her a ride and she accepted. They talked the whole way back to Redding and somehow my Poppy was able to convice her to move in with him. They lived platonic life until two weeks before I was born. My mother asked my Poppy to marry her so that I would have a father and a family. I believe even though he never said anything, that my father believed that she was going to leave me with him after they had gotten married but he could never prove it.

My father got some friends to help and they went out of state to get married. He treated my mom like a queen for the next two weeks and lost her on the night I was born. On August 1st, 1993 he ended up taking care of two babies. One a new born and the other a grown woman who couldn’t remember ever being pregnant or her own childhood. My father was always a hermit kind of a guy even though he had many friends and was loved by all of them.

His two series had been reprinted over five times. He had written many books on farming and plants but those two series were the most popular. Recently, I helped him make a web site called Hippi’s Pardaise after the first series and that kept people interested. Every year, he got invited to do book tours on those books.

The urgency I felt thinking I needed to be home as fast as possible was so distinct that I could almost taste it. I put the SUV into drive and turned down the radio with the hope that I would hear what had happen. But music just played then commericals. Which gave me a false hope that maybe everything would be ok. One of the commericals was for Flue Nomore. It was an informaercial about how the whole world was nearly done and then no one would ever have to die or be sick ever again from the flu.

I remembered that I had an appointment to day to get my Flu Nomore shot. I figured I wont be keeping that appointment which was fine since I was freaked out when it came to shots. I had been really sick the last time I was supposed to get it. Poppy and GranMa had gotten theirs and Poppy had introduce her to Dr. Mayberry, who was a fan of his that had requested a while back online for a signed set hey had all gone to lunch and Poppy gave him the signed copy of the the series of the Survivilst Backpack from the 1970’s. Poppy had told them all that Penquin books had approached him about reprinting his two series again, and they had some ideas for some revising that would fancy the illustrations up a bit. They were his publishers for his gardening and herbology books. Also the History Channel had approached him about making a TV series about the Survivilst Backpack.

I had kind of listen but I was really watching Dr. Mayeberry. He was so gorgeous. He looked like a doctor on TV. He was not as tall as me, or Poppy but he was shapped nicely. I just smiled anytime he looked at me, which wasn’t much and when he did he had that look that I was familiar with. It was the look of an young adult gives a teenager. I I get that look a lot because I attended college and most of the guys didn’t want to date a young fat girl. I was so sure that if I was thin and pretty they would have made a play. Dr. Mayeberry was polite but I think all he saw was a fat, shy girl trying to be a grown up. I was sure that if Dr. Mayeberry had met my mother, he would have been smiling the whole time and he would have noticed her at lunch. My friend Jean could have gotten him to look at her but then Jean could get a dead man to look at her. As the old saying, she was va,va, voom.

As I went over the freeway on Pine Grove, I tried not to think of Jean. I looked down at the freeway and almost lost any grip I was keeping on my sanity. There were cars all over the place, some of them were turned over from hitting into each other. Many were off the road. But no where was there a single person to be seen. I looked back on the road to help clam myself. I stopped for the street light until I realized that it probably was point less but I waited anyway. The world looked the same even though I couldn’t see any people but Pine Grove wasn’t a very busy road on a normal day, so I wasn’t surprised that I only saw one other car that had hit the curb and stopped. I kept finding myself looking even though I was beginning to realize that I may be the only person alive.

I felt my mind go numb when I started thinking that maybe I was really dead and this was really some kind of mental leftover from my life. That caused the darkness to start bubbleing up and I had to fight the urge to start blubbering and crying sensless again. I just gripped the steering wheel and kept going. I was almost home.

As I hit the beginning of our private road, I am relieved and scared because I see my GrandMan’s little coop as well as our closest neighbor Mr. Howard’s truck and his horse trailer. The vechicles were blocking the road, like they had stopped to chat, which would have been right on the mark cause GrandMam had a thing for Old Howard. I pulled the SUV and shut off the motor. I just sat there because even though I had felt a leap of hope and excitement of seeing GrandMam’s car, I could see that she wasn’t in it. My brain kept telling me that maybe it was because she was laying down. I forced myself to get out of the car. I walked very slowly, hoping that her head would pop up any second and I wouldn’t be all alone but I made it eventually to the car door and looked down.

My body sagged, no ash on the seat. That meant two things either she was alive or she had gotten out of the car. I looked around and decided that I would just drive the coop back up the hill. I looked down to see if the keys were still in the car and they were missing. I walked around Mr. Howard’s truck. Our mailboxes were behind the left side of the truck. My pace slowed down because again I didn’t want to see the keys or the ash that may have been there but as I turn aground I saw that her keys weren’t’ there. I let out a sigh of relieved and decided that I would just hike it up to the house, until as I was turning away, something shinny caught my eye near Mr. Howard’s door. Part of me, didn’t want to see what it was because I knew what it was. I turned back and walked to it like I was walking to my death and I saw that charm I have gotten my GrandMam for her birthday. I felt the tears start to drip down my face, but I was able to hold it together because I knew, that I had already known that she wasn’t alive. Just as I knew…..no I didn’t want to think about it at the time, just as I knew that my Poppy wasn’t going be waiting for me at home. No matter. I got the keys and got in to the coop and drove up the hill. I turn on her radio but got nothing on it, just dead air. I drove up the hill to Hippi’s Paradise with tears streaming down my face.

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[mysteriouslydarktale-blog]

Does Not Protect Against...

Does Not Protect Against…

(Part 1)

By: V-Nasty

  Underneath the fluorescent lights of a local Walmart Supercenter, I examined the reddish and purplish blood spots spewed across my inner elbow. I stopped breathing momentarily and looked up to ensure the stall was still locked. There seemed to be no one else inside the bathroom.

 With my skirt and panties still pooled around my ankles, I got up frantically in hopes of getting a better look. The spots were not painful to touch, they were not tender, nor were they sunken in or raised up. They were flat, blotchy and the entire area of my inner arm looked diseased…infected.

 I racked my brain for anything that could possibly explain this sudden eruption of flat patches on my skin. As far as I was concerned, I was not sick – there was no recent trauma caused to that area, I was not anemic nor did I have a virus or a bacterial infection. I didn't have a history of anything in my family…so --what?

 "The birth control." I whispered to myself in sudden realization and relief.  "This shit has to be a side effect of the birth control."

My gynecologist recently wrote me a prescription for a new brand of birth control named, "Sanzique". It was a new, revolutionary method of contraception because a single pill was effective in preventing pregnancy and regulating menstruation for an entire year. It was also supposed to cause minimal to no side effects.

 Without insurance, pricing ranges from about $2500-3000 for a 3-year treatment. Fortunately, my insurance covered approximately 80% of the prescription.

 Since I was newly sexually active, I decided to chance it.

 It was super convenient, easy to swallow, and caused no adverse side effects…until now.

I was able to breathe a little easier now that I discovered the root of the problem. I had scheduled a follow up appointment with my gynecologist for Tuesday – it was Sunday.  

 I slowly sank back down onto the toilet seat and sat still for a few seconds. I took another deep breath and felt a mild vibration in my bra. Pulling the cellphone out without unlocking it, I read the message displayed vividly on the screen.

 Duke <3: Where r u Leah?

 My insides churned unpleasantly. I must've been lost in my own thoughts for at least 30 minutes, leaving my boyfriend to navigate through the cluttered Walmart aisles on his own.

 After flushing, wiping and pulling up my garments, I made my way out of the stall and into the main area of the bathroom. I scrutinized myself in the mirror and cringed at how pale and solemn I looked under the incandescent lighting. Briskly turning on the faucet, I splashed some cold water on my skin – a lady and her child walked in.

 "Hurry up Candace," the lady admonished her toddler. "I asked you if you wanted to go before we left."

 I smiled awkwardly at them as I dried my hands. The little girl rushed into one of the stalls as I made my way out towards the door.

 Grimacing under the bright lights and bustling activity, I pulled my phone out of my bra once and again and dialed Duke's number. After three rings, I could feel myself melting at this deep voice.

 "Love, where are you?" He started. "I'm in the chips aisle grabbing some stuff for the game tonight."

 I started smiling in spite of myself and made my way towards the middle aisles of the store. "Oh gosh, who's playing? The Miami Whales and who else -- "

 "I'm going to stop you right there," He said, in his deep, vibrating voice. I could envision him frowning over a bag of Doritos and started to laugh. "It's the Miami Dolphins. I'm hurt, you know that's my favorite team."

 I laughed even harder. "Aww, don't start crying boo, I'm playing.  I'm coming over right now."  I disconnected the line and proceeded to walk a little faster towards the snack aisle.

 There he was in all his splendor; carefully deciding between two big bags of Cool Ranch and Fiery Habanero Doritos. He stood a tall 6'4 with a very broad build. His skin tone was the darkest of ebonies; a sea of unblemished and smooth flesh. His most striking feature, however, were his almond shaped eyes. They were amber, tawny and draped by the darkest eyelashes I've ever seen on a man. I would be eternally jealous - he didn’t deserve those eyelashes.

 "Why don't you take both?" I asked, making him jump slightly. "Or how about you take every flavor? That's what you always end up doing anyways." He leaned in and kissed the top of my forehead.

 "See, you're smart. That's why I like you," He said. I laughed and helped grab every flavor of Doritos on the shelf. After swaying back and forth, placing bags of chips and jars of dip into the cart – I suddenly felt tired. If I was being completely honest, I've been experiencing long episodes of fatigue for the past couple of months – just after the start of Sanzique. I stopped for a second and sighed.

 Must be another side effect of the pill.

 Just a couple more days and I'll be able to consult with my physician.

 "You good, babe?" Duke asked, snapping me out of my trance.

 I nodded. "Yes. Can we go now boo? It's game night and everybody in Atlanta is here tonight."

 He grabbed my hand and planted a kiss in my palm. "I'm ready to watch them Miami Whales."

 _______________________________________________________________________

After about an hour of sitting in traffic, we finally made it to my condo. It was located in the posh Atlanta neighborhood of, "Sunnydale." My parents resided extremely close to me, in an adjacent neighborhood. There was extreme comfort in the fact that they were so close.

 My father owned a record studio in Downtown Atlanta and my mother worked as a plastic surgeon at Grady Memorial Hospital. Due to their prominent titles, I lived a very privileged life and was afforded a plethora of opportunities. I was never told no.

 After graduating from Howard University, I ventured out on my own. I landed a position as a Paralegal at prestigious law firm in downtown Atlanta and rented out a studio condominium for myself and by myself.

 I enjoyed the pleasures of living alone but I also loved having Duke sleep next to me every night.

 Before plopping down loudly on the leather sectional, Duke immediately turned on the television and changed through the stations until he found ESPN2.  

 "Damn! My Dolphins down by 5,' he opened a bag of chips while I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the bathroom.

 After a futile attempt to tame my hair in front of the mirror, I reached towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the Sanzique box. I peeled off the information packet on the side of the box and I started reading the instructions and list of side effects

 Most Common Side effects include:

 Rash

Fatigue

Night Sweats

Nausea

Weight Gain/Loss

Fever

Swollen Lymph Nodes

Sore throat

Mouth Ulcers

 I started to panic, Sanzique wasn't as safe as the ads suggested it to be and so far I've experienced 4/7 most common side effects. Along with the rash and fatigue, I've undergone slight weight loss and had frequent night sweats and fevers. I, however, shrugged this off in the past and credited these symptoms to elevated stress from a busier lifestyle. The pill was effective for a year which meant I would probably be suffering for about 9 or so months.

 Although I was slightly discouraged, I had to be optimistic. This just was a minor setback and hopefully my gynecologist could offer some kind of cure or remedy to help combat these symptoms.

 "MY BOYS!" Duke bellowed in the background. "That's what I'm talking about! We got this!"

 I smiled and I smiled again, wholeheartedly, because no one can ignite a happiness within me like he could. I knew I was in love but I refused to be the first one to say so and I knew I was in love because I was able to accept all his flaws, including. screaming on a Sunday night and disrupting the neighbors.

 I made my way out the bathroom and joined him on the couch. He offered me a bag of chips and smeared some onion dip on the top of my nose. I laughed as he licked it off and we watched the remainder of the game together – in semi-silence.

 "YES! THEM MY BOYS!" He bellowed once again as the Miami Dolphins landed another touchdown.

 _______________________________________________________________________

I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. Beside me, Duke was sleeping soundly. My breaths were short and shallow and I tried hard to compose myself. Just one more day until I could consult with my doctor. I told myself this for what seemed like a thousand times before I forced my eyes shut.

 _______________________________________________________________________

Monday came around and it was dull and uneventful. I was assisting my boss with a 5-month rape case and worked primarily in his office, despite the fact that I had my own cubicle.  It was a mindless blur of copying, scanning, re-sorting, re-editing, re-organizing, re-investigating and re-crying. I was severely fatigued with a headache that threatened to kill me. I wanted nothing more than to go home and I was just about to ask for permission to leave before:

 "Leah?" Rick called softly. He was a partner of the firm, my main boss and a trusted colleague. "Do you have a moment?"

 I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course I had a moment, a large portion of my life was dedicated to assisting him. "Yeah Rick, what's up?"

 "Are you okay?" The sincerity and concern in his voice was enough to make me cry. "You've been looking different lately…. not like your usual self."

 'What do you mean?"

 "I mean you've lost quite a bit of weight and you look tired…you look exhausted." He was tentative. "I don't mean to but in but I was just curious. I mean – the work you do is still up to par but I can't help but to think that's it requiring a lot of energy from you."

 My heart dropped deep into my stomach, I felt a hard knot begin to form in my throat and swallowed. "N-no Rick, it's cool. Actually, I am feeling a bit tired but it's probably with all the stress from this case."

 Looking exceedingly skeptical, Rick stood up from his desk and walked over to my diminutive working area. "Leah, I'd like to think that you can speak to me about matters aside from work," He clutched my hand. "I am your boss, yes, but we've been working together for nearly 3 years. I am also your friend. You’re like a daughter to me. Whatever it is…please, I'm here."

 I started to cry. "Rick, I'm sorry. Thank you but I have a really bad headache and my chest hurts. Can I go home?"

 A wave of intense guilt rocked me as I looked at his concerned face. He squeezed my hand and lifted my chin. "Go home," he said sympathetically. "I know you have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Please take the rest of the week off – I'm always here if you need me."

 I sniffed loudly, nodded and grabbed my bag on my way out of the office. I didn't bother to wipe my eyes or my nose. I practically ran out of the firm, my heels clicking noisily against the ceramic tile.

 _______________________________________________________________________

I slept for the entire day – barely able to get out of bed for a class of water. I submerged myself deep inside my comforters and peaked through the sheets to check the time. It was about 2:15 am – Duke should be home soon. He worked as manager for a sports bar downtown called, "Shirley's Temple"

 I felt myself easing in and out of consciousness and then…warmth.

 The warmth of a physical body. The warmth of a large, muscular being sliding into bed beside me.

 I smiled weakly when he kissed my nose. 'Hey Duke," I whispered.

 "Hello beautiful," he whispered back, rubbing my back in long, sweeping motions. I wondered briefly if he noticed how sweaty I was.

 "Do me a favor boo," I closed my eyes as he raked his fingers through my hair. "Go to the bathroom and throw away my birth control."

 "You sure?" He asked hesitantly. I could make out his potent amber eyes in the darkness, I could see him frowning but he never stopped petting my unruly curls.

 "Yes babe," I said. He removed the covers off of himself and quietly made his way towards the bathroom. "I love you Duke," I whispered. I wasn't certain whether he heard me and instantly regretted saying it.

 "I love you too." He said finally and I watched as his silhouette exited the room.

  ______________________________________________________________________

My follow up appointment was scheduled bright and early. I was expected to be at the office by 9 am. I kissed Duke tenderly on the cheek before grabbing my keys, my insurance card, my ID and my credit card. I felt a little apprehensive but more relieved than anything else. I was positive that my doctor would help me figure this out – we would come up with a solution together.

 I arrived at the doctor's office at approximately 8:30, signed off some paperwork, submitted a 50-dollar co-pay and waited anxiously.

 I checked Facebook on my phone, I started reading the news. I even scrolled through and liked every single post on Twitter and Instagram – anything to keep my mind off of these portentous thoughts.

 "Leah?" A nurse finally called from the door leading to the exam room. She held an open laptop in her hand. She was short and stumpy with blonde hair and a very kind face. "You can follow me," she continued with a deep southern accent.

 I grabbed my purse and followed her into the examination area.  "Hey Leah, my name is Joy, I'll be taking your vitals." She gingerly laid the laptop a wooden desk and focused all her attention on me.

 I nodded. "Okay."

 "Please step on to that, sweetie" She said, pointing towards the scale next to the bed and I obliged. "Alright, 125 pounds. How tall are you?"

 "About 5'7."

 "Okay, you're still at a healthy weight." She observed. "You look a little on the small side though."

 "I lost about 20 pounds." I remarked. Her neutral expression contorted into a look of concern and slight shock. "In a span of…2 months."

 "Okay…that's something we definitely want to address to the doctor." She said slowly. "I'm just going to check your blood pressure now." She grasped the blood pressure device from the wall and wrapped the thick blue flap around my arm.

 "Okay, blood pressure is normal." She smiled softly, peeling the flap off my arm. "Alright Leah, what did you want to talk to the doctor about?" She walked over towards the desk to grab her laptop.

 "I'm experiencing all these weird symptoms from the Sanzique," I explained and suddenly wanted to cry, I was so overwhelmed. "Like um…extreme fatigue, weight loss – night sweats, loss of appetite…"

 "Okay sweetie," she said, typing vigorously on her laptop. "I will let the doctor know – she will be with you shortly."

 When Joy existed the room. I tried not to throw myself into a fit of tears. My nerves, like waves of static, cursed through my entire body. I wanted to leave, I wanted to vanish or teleport to a completely different location – I didn't want to have a panic attack in the middle of the office. The walls were closing in – I wanted to sprint out and never come back but if I did, I wouldn't be able to function properly anymore. I needed to solve this enigma.

 There was a knock on the door and I took a very deep breath.

 My gynecologist, Dr. Michelle Hyman, was a very tall and very attractive black woman. She always had her hair up in a bun, she wore cat-like eyeglasses, and her full lips were virtually always covered in a crimson lipstick.

 "Hey girl," She said brightly and took a seat by the desk. "How are we today? Joy told me you were experiencing some pain from the birth control?"

 I nodded.

 "I'm going to be honest with you Leah," She said. "Sanzique is one of the safest drugs on the market with little or no side effects. Some of my patients do experience slight nausea and weight loss but your case is a little extreme."

  I started sobbing. "I know…I know…I just…I just don’t know why I'm reacting so badly to it."

 "Hey," She cooed. "Hey sweetie, although your symptoms are extreme, they aren't unheard of." She offered me a tissue. "We'll get to the bottom of this. You'll be okay in no time. Since it’s been 6 months since your last visit, I'm going to order an STD blood test panel – the results should be in within 30 minutes. I am also going to prescribe a vitamin to open your appetite, something for fatigue and something for physical pain. Okay sweetie? You’re too beautiful to be crying girl"

 I smiled weakly.

 "Okay, now, Joy should be in the backroom. She's going to conduct the blood-test," Dr. Hyman smiled at me radiantly and rubbed my thigh before she left the room."

 I wiped my eyes and followed Dr. Hyman out of the room. I found Joy grabbing several tubes and syringes out of the cabinets in the lab. She grinned at me and asked me to sit into a recliner. She slipped on a pair of plastic gloves and asked me to form a fist with my hand. I looked away as she sank the needle into my flesh,

 _______________________________________________________________________

Although slightly dizzy and lightheaded, I was feeling more optimistic than usual. I was finally going to be treated and hopefully get back to my normal self.

 I looked around, the waiting room was empty.

 I wanted to speak with Duke. I desperately need to hear that deep voice I loved so much. Clutching my bag, I pulled out my phone and looked for his name – he answered within 3 rings.

 "Hey beautiful."

 "Hey babe."

 "How you feeling?"

 "I'm so much better now that I'm hearing your voice. I'm just waiting for some results. The usual."

 "Okay Leah," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I'm here when you get back home. I love you..."

 "I love you more," I responded thickly and I knew in my very core that it was the truth. "See you later," I had to disconnect the call -  I could feel myself choking up.

 _______________________________________________________________________

"Leah?" Joy called after almost an hour of me twiddling my thumbs and waiting anxiously in the main area. "Dr. Hyman is ready for you."

 I got up slowly and followed Joy to the exam room. Dr. Hyman had her back towards the door, she was typing away furiously on her laptop. I smiled at Joy before she departed, closing the door to the room. Dr. Hyman looked up from her laptop falteringly.

 "Sit wherever you want babe," she said.

 I hopped clumsily onto the the examination bed and waiting impatiently for her to speak.

 "You tested positive for HIV."

 The room was silent.

 I never had an out-of-body experience before. But in that very moment, I felt as if I was floating around my own body. I felt as though Dr. Hyman violated some kind of privacy law by disclosing a diagnosis that wasn't meant for me. I had a sudden and overwhelming urge to gag. I opened and closed my mouth a few times – willing something, anything to come out.

 Finally:  "How?"

 But I knew exactly how.

 Duke was the only person I've ever had sex with. The only person I've ever made out with, the only person I've ever slept next to, the person I've shared the darkest, most poignant memories of my past with.

 The only person I've ever been in love with.

 Duke, my strength, my friend, my confidant, my love was the person to cause me the most unbearable pain I've ever felt in my life.

 I grasped my chest, my heart shattered into a trillion little pieces.

 Dr. Hyman looked somber as she continued on, ignoring my question. "The Sanzique exhibits side effects almost identical to the the symptoms of HIV. Your white blood count was very low Leah."

 She kept talking but I was barely listening. The sound of my rapid heartbeat was deafening.

 "I know that you're feeling extremely overwhelmed and confused right now. We will set up a treatment plan that accommodates your needs. Talk to Duke about this – remember Leah, you can still live a healthy life. HIV is not the death sentence it was 30 years ago."

 But little did she know, I already died.