#i miss my brain NOT making food an entire Ordeal

[lazy-duck]

I really hate being so hungry it turns into nausea, because being nauseous makes it really really hard to get up

and getting up and walking to the kitchen and cooking are all unfortunately steps that need to happen before i can eat

[blushingquincy]

The Complete Guide to Falling for the Freak

by: blushingquincy

Allison Campbell has it all: a big house, good grades, and popularity—but underneath all of that, behind the perfect girl next door facade, is truly where it gets interesting. When she gets stuck tutoring the notorious Freak of Hawkins High, Eddie Munson, her life takes unexpected turns as she battles her step dad, her awful friends and, most importantly, falling in love for the first time.

⚠️WARNING: smut, cussing, bullying, domestic violence, abuse, drug use, underage drinking. I’ll add more warnings as I update

This is my first fic! I’m fairly new to writing so please give your opinions! Not sure how many chapters this will be. I’m thinking 15-20 maybe more who knows ;) Without further ado let’s get into it.

Chapter 1: He’s just the worst.

November 17, 1986

Mornings are a mundane ordeal in the Campbell household, always the same. Brenda Campbell, the obedient little housewife she is, is always in the kitchen by the time Allison comes downstairs. Her step-father, Dan—Dan The Dictator, she likes to call him—sits at his usual spot at the dining room table, reading a newspaper and making snide comments about how the food smells, even though he's going to scarf it all down anyway.

Pig, Allison thinks. She slips into her seat silently, munching on a dry piece of toast as fast as she can without earning the wrath of her step-father.

She fails.

"Slow down, Ali, the food isn't going anywhere," he says. "People are gonna mistake you for a pig if you keep that up." He oinks, then chuckles to himself like this is the funniest joke he's ever heard.

Allison bites down both the toast and the sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue. She looks back at him as she wipes crumbs from the side of her mouth, eyes flickering down to look at his—no, her actual dad's tie.

I hope you get hit by a bus, she thinks, and she really means it. "Sorry," she says instead. "Guess I'm just excited to get to school."

That was a goddamn lie.

High school is a similarly mundane ordeal. She falls into her usual routine, sitting with the cheer squad and feigning interest while they talk about things she really couldn't give less of a damn about. No, Heather, she does not want to hear about parties or Madonna or guess who bumped uglies with Steve Harrington at Skull Rock!

She almost gags at the thought. God, she would rather choke herself with a hot branding iron than hear about former King Steve Harrington's sex life— but she knew how important image was to her mother and Dan. Not that she gave a shit about pleasing Dan, he could go choke for all she cared. But it was important to her mother too, and unfortunately, Allison did give a damn about pleasing her.

The second she makes her way to the classroom with its painfully harsh fluorescent lights, Mrs. O' Donnell asks if she can speak to her after class.

Allison frowns. "Am I …?" she trails off, eyebrows furrowed, and Miss O' Donnel seems to understand the unspoken word without her having to actually say it.

"Oh, don't worry," she says. "You aren't in trouble. I just need to talk to you."

Still, anxiety pools in Allison's stomach through the entire class. The bell rings, and she looks back down at her notebook, completely blank except for the topic written across the top in big letters. Damn. She'd have to ask someone if she could borrow their notes later.

That was the least of her concerns, though. Her main concern was figuring out what Miss O' Donnel wanted from her. She made her way to the front desk, clearing her throat to make her presence known.

The woman peered up at her through thin-rimmed glasses. "Ah, yes. Allison, I'm looking for a tutor for Eddie Munson and I was wondering if you'd be interested."

The metaphorical record in Allison's brain scratches to a stop. She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again, gapping like a fashing out of water. "I'm sorry, what?" she eventually settles on.

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, the resident drug dealer of Hawkins High. He definitely has a … reputation, to say the least. He was the leader of the Hellfire Club. Allison is pretty sure that it's just a bunch of nerds playing a tabletop fantasy game, but everyone else seems convinced that it's a bunch of satanists sacrificing virgins.

Either way, she doesn't really want to do it. Nonetheless, being the ass-kissing people pleaser she is, Allison says yes.

Mrs. O' Donnel smiles at her. "Thank you, Allison, I knew I could count on you." She hands her the paper with his address and contact information. Allison thanks her absentmindedly, them goes about the rest of her morning classes in a bit of a daze.

She just agreed to tutor Eddie Munson. Eddie fucking Munson.

Finally, it's lunch. She takes her tray with a weird meat mush—seriously, what is that stuff—and sits down at the table. This group is a little different than the ones she ate breakfast with. In addition to the snobby girls, there was the basketball team. She hates them and their weird suburban hair and the way they mock people. As she sits there, listening to Andy drag on about the new truck his daddy bought him, her attention is turned away by something more interesting.

Eddie Munson, who had been sitting with his Hellfire Club, is now on the table shouting about conforming and useless highschool cliques. Allison resists the urge to bury her face in her hands. God, he is totally embarrassing. He's absolutely right, but still. Embarrassing.

Jason Carver stands up. "You want something, freak?" he squares his shoulders as though he was doing something important, defending the basketball team's honor or whatever. He's embarrassing too.

Eddie responds by sticking his tongue out and making faux devil horns with his fingers. Allison hides a smile by shoving a forkful of food into her mouth.

Jason abruptly sits down “God I hate that freak," he scoffs. "Don’t you guys just hate him?”

The group nods and agrees— except Allison, who is too focused on staring at Eddie: his long curly hair, his beautiful brown eyes and the way his mouth forms a flirtatious smirk when she catches his eye.

“Allison!” Jason yells out. She quickly jolted back to reality. “I said don’t you just hate him?”

She gives a quick glance back at Eddie. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, he's just the worst."

Well this is going to be sooo much fun

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 14

OK SO APPARENTLY I MISSED POSTING LAST WEEKS CHAPTER??? I mean I was panicking about going on holiday, BUT STILL?? THE FACT THAT I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE. Guys if I don't post feel free to ask me why because 9/10 times it's my dumb adhd ass forgetting cuz she's stressed. But on the bright side - I GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!!! So I'm in a very good mood rn and managed to write this entire chapter in less than an hour. It hasn't been proofread, but I'm gonna have to do that another time. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 >

Part 2: Chapter 14 -

Thanks, I hate it.

Skreigh (Definition): To utter a harsh abrupt scream (Noun / Origin: Gaelic / Sk·r·ay)

Eventually, Kay lifted her head up. Her grey eyes were rimmed by a crimson red as they blinked up as the two of us, and if you looked closely, you could see a tremble in her hands as they came up to wipe at her face.

Bilbo immediately sped into action, marching over to the bed and swiping the second blanket that laid at the end. Shaking it out of its folds, he draped it over Kay’s shoulders, and I handed over her tea, making sure that the shaking in her limbs didn’t spill the hot liquid down her front. Taking a small sip, she let out a shaky sigh.

“Are you okay?”

Bilbo was the first to break the silence with his question, kneeling down in front of my friend, looking at her with both concern and slight fear.

Kay nodded. Bilbo got up, murmuring something about food helping before he left for what was probably the kitchen. I waited a second before speaking.

“That was so scary.” I whispered, too shocked about the ordeal to take note of my volume.

“I’m fine, really.” Kay croaked, taking another sip of tea.

“Kay, I thought you were dying.” I protested, “What happened?”

She opened her mouth, taking a few seconds to get the words out.

“I wanted to tell Bilbo about where we came from, where our home is and–” She welled up, taking deep breaths to calm herself down as I waited patiently in silence. “My head just started to hurt. Like, worse than the concussion, as if someone stuck knives in both sides of my brain and shimmied them around. And then… I tried again to say something out loud and my throat just closed up.”

I shuffled over next to her, and she leant on me, resting her head on my shoulder as she cradled the tea in her hand.

“I guess I also thought I was dying.”

I tensed up at her words, now scared about what would happen to me if I tried to do anything similar, whilst simultaneously being scared for Kay. Though I was brought back out of my thoughts at the sound of her voice again.

“–It was as if something didn’t want me saying anything.”

I felt the hairs on my neck stand up at those words, and I suddenly got the god-awful feeling – you know – the one where you feel like you’re being watched. But I knew that surely, we couldn’t be, since the only door was closed and the curtains drawn. But that attempted reassurance did nothing to stifle the uneasy sensation that grazed itself along the back of my neck and down the sides of my arms.

“Maybe that something doesn’t want people finding out about us?” I suggested to try and reassure Kay, and also distract myself from that weird feeling. “It could be to protect us.”

“Protect us from what?” She whispered nervously.

“Perhaps from those who… want to use our knowledge to cause harm?”

I felt Kay’s head shift on my shoulder slightly, and I could see the way her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What knowledge? Half the stuff we know is too advanced for them. Like, not to brag, but A-Level Sciences are something they’re a long while away from understanding.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a small smile appear on my face at the thought of being the smarter one for once. Though all those thoughts were washed away as an answer to Kay’s question came to mind.

“Maybe… knowledge of what is to come?”

Kay froze.

“Shit. You’re right.” She hissed.

A beat passed as more thoughts invaded my mind. One stood out, and I quickly shuffled to sit opposite Kay, facing her.

“We need to find out what day it is.” I blurted.

“Day? I heard Bilbo say what day it was earlier, but it was a weird word…” She mentioned, scratching at her head in thought.

“Can you remember what it was?” I asked, the desperation in my voice crawling through.

“I’m pretty sure it began with an M?” She replied.

I immediately racked my brain, sifting through all the obscure Middle Earth facts I had read over the years. I knew that the Shire had its own calendar, including days of the week. They were the same as our days of the week, but some days had a different name. From what I could recall, Sunday and Monday remained the same, and I could easily remember that Tuesday was Trewsday, due to them both sounding so similar, but the rest were still tucked away, hidden in the confines of my mind that only resurfaced once in a blue moon, and believe me, it is as frustrating as it sounds.

“Mer-something?” She added.

“Mersday!” I half yelled. “I think that means Thursday?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” She said confused.

I fiddled with the corner of the blanket that was draped over Kay, then twisted towards the door.

“BILBO?!”

A crash was heard, then the rapid slapping of feet on wood, before Bilbo rounded the corner with frantic eyes.

“Yes?!” he gasped.

“What’s the date?” I asked with a smile.

He paused, a deadpan look on his face as he realised no one was dying again, and he straightened up with a heave, in an attempt to retrieve his breath.

“Date?”

We both nodded with a grin, and with an unamused sigh, he answered.

“It’s Mersday, the twenty-ninth of September, if you must know.” He huffed with a shrug, slapping his hands on his legs. “Any other obscure things you wish to know, after almost dying for no reason?”

The two of us looked at each other, and he rolled his eyes with a groan.

“Yes, what?” He asked sarcastically.

“The year?” I said.

He gave us a strange look, as he has done every time we did something out of the ordinary over the last couple days.

“Twentyyy… nine, thirty nine.” He answered slowly.

“Thirty-nine?” I repeated.

“Y-yes.” He said exasperated.

“Ok,” I said as I did the math in my head, before looking back up at Bilbo. “Thank you.”

He nodded slowly, a little unsure about what just went on in the last few minutes, and began turning back towards the door.

“That’s no problem. I’m gonna… make myself a cup of…” He pointed awkwardly at the doorway, “Chamomile. Yep. Chamo – Goodnight.”

He disappeared promptly, and I twisted back towards Kay.

“So it seems that we’re a little early.” I whispered.

“For the…” She made a walking motion with her fingers.

“Journey, yes.” I nodded. “A whole 20 months before Gandalf shows up, if I’m correct.”

Kay grunted in frustration, most likely at the thought of waiting for an entire year and eight months for Gandalf to commence O.D.R – Operation Dwarf Rave, in other words. Or Bag End’s demise, if you will.

Stifling a yawn, I lifted Kay’s arm up to squint at the time on her Hello Kitty watch she had retrieved from her suitcase earlier, to see it was almost midnight. I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door.

“Right, I’m gonna head to bed and attempt to rid my brain of the image of you dying. And you’re gonna sleep until you’re fully energised after all –” I gestured at her, “–that.”

She nodded in agreement, and flopped onto her bed, wrapping her arms around her teddy.

“And no talking about our world.” I said in a mocking strict voice.

Kay rolled her eyes at me, and I ducked through the doorway as a pillow flew in my direction. I yelled goodnight as I made my way back through the house to my room, extinguishing the low burning candles on my way, allowing the darkness to follow me until I reached the glow of Bilbo’s room, who was already watching the doorway as my footsteps neared.

“Is she alright now?” he asked, a slight undertone of worry in his voice.

I nodded. “Yea she’s gone to bed. Still a little shaky, but she’s managed to calm down.”

“Ok.” He said, reassuring himself with a nod, before looking back up at me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I smiled as we both bid each other goodnight, and I carried on down the hallway. Ducking under the last archway, I finally made it to my room and closed the door behind me. Taking the last lit candle, I placed it on my bedside as I changed out of my clothes into one of Bilbo’s nightgowns, which acted as more of a shirt for me. Shuffling under the covers, I turned around towards the headboard. Manoeuvring the pillows around, I took some and scrunched them in an out in an attempt to fluff them up. Placing the final one down with a pat, I kept my body facing the head of the bed as a leant over to the candle. Opening my mouth slightly, I prepared to blow out the flame, only to halt in my tracks.

I felt myself freeze in place at the sound of a rustle within the room. Moving only my eyes to the left, I stared in the direction of the noise, which sounded like something heavy being knocked around. It was soon silent again, only the sound of the wind and the faint hoot of a distant owl from outside, along with the roaring of blood from my rapidly beating heart, could be heard.

Slowly but surely, I turned my head, until I was finally able to see the entirety of the dimly lit room. Staring with wide eyes, my sight fell upon the wardrobe in the corner.

Whilst being half the size of my one at home, it was still large enough to hide someone, which was exactly what I was panicking about. As silently as I could, I slipped off the bed, candlestick in hand, along with the small stool from another corner, and I crept towards the tall piece of furniture.

Now, I understand that in horror films, this is exactly how someone gets killed, but I needed my sleep, and I wasn’t going to let some hobbit burglar that wasn’t Bilbo take that away from me.

Pointing the stool legs towards the doors, I placed the candle on the chest of drawers next to the wardrobe, and slowly stretched out my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 >

Return to Fic Masterlist

Return to Navigation

Can't wait to see you soon for Chapter 15! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling @emstar07 @geewoo-ko @phanryesworld @stuckupstucky @rebeccao03

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[neo-neos]

Can I give my unfiltered opinion on Till The World Ends?

Yes, because who the fuck is going to tell me I can't (Spoilers)

WARNING: I kinda popped off a little here and there, I do not mean harm... I promise. I just really enjoy putting my thoughts on paper sometimes. <3

I would like to start off with a bit of a disclaimer, I am skipping through like 70% of this show because after watching ep 1 I kinda already lost it but I would like to share my opinion anyway. I in no way am trying to make fun of the show or the actors or anything like that. I am just stating my findings that are based on legit nothing other than my opinion on like the few scenes I have fully watched.

In general

The concept/storyline is actually really cool, I think it's a very interesting idea, and was excited to see how this was going to go.

The biggest issue I have with this show is the acting and I ain't here to shit on actors at all but... Can I just say what I want to say? Golf (Best)... Honey... This ain't it... (Idk if he has roles in other shows that do work better for him..) But to be very honest... Art is carrying this show atm.

I legit would get on my knees and bow down in a worshipping manner to translators. Their work is legit so, so important and they are all literal angels. BUT the translation of this show is so insanely distracting, the mistakes are hard to overlook and often cause some massive confusion for me personally. Again, translators deserve some hella praise but... I tried to ignore it, I really did.

My boy Art cannot catch a break with the crying

What the FUCK is up with the insane amount of awkward/unnecessary dialogue?

And now for something yall DEFINITELY DID NOT ASK FOR, an analysis of the eps that also hold my very unfiltered opinion

Ep 1

The prison scene...

They then talk about food for like 1 minute straight AND THEN HE LITERALLY GOES

AGAIN? -

The rest of ep 1 was fine but my lord that scene took forever and mostly repeated the same thing 3 times.

Ep 2

Not bad, not great.

Ep 3

That opening scene was ehm... a bit ?????

You aight miss thang? - She continued to lay there until like the end of the ep as well... I'm: Concerned.

The comfort talk... Sir mr Golf needs a little lesson on how to comfort people because basically Art is saying: Listen mate, I woke up in your house, you basically kidnapped me, let's forget about the fact that you were the one that knocked me the fuck out in the first place for a minute... But okay. Can you please look at this entire ordeal from my perspective for a HOT SECOND? I just wanna go home mate, I wanna go find my family..

Golf: omg no don't cry bby boy, I'm just worried about u.

??

AND then the scene in the bed was so insanely long and the topics jumped from one thing to another and ??

Ep 4

The breakfast scene felt oddly out of character for the character of Golf, idk how to explain this one to yall sorry.

I am glad AIDS is being talked about.

Ep 5

Gus is cute

2 entire seconds later:

Is this like their thing as brothers? They talk to each other but neither of them listens and then they just... repeat the same question? pls do tell me if that is the actual clue here because, I'm lost.

THEY MADE HIM SING? Bro pls no.

Ep 6

Are you... ???? ARE YOU TWO FOR FUCKING REAL? (sorry this just really got to me..)

Just this, no further comments HAHAHHA

That marriage thing was cute af

Ep 7

THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THE DOG LIKE THAT.

Ep 8

This ep holds my favorite meme from this show EVER

BRO SAME HAHAHAHAH - that is a MOOD I have absolutely no idea what was happening throughout the conversation. I know it might be a very interesting, deep and heavy topic I'm pea brain.

NC scene was good

[sharloola]

my eggs keep going bad

And I like to say it’s because I live alone now and food goes off a lot quicker when my brothers aren’t in the same house but I only buy the small carton and four eggs isn’t a lot at all so actually the reason my eggs go bad is because I don’t use them. I keep buying eggs and they keep going bad because most days I can only muster the energy to only make ramen because ramen is better than nothing and if I add two eggs that’s almost a real meal so I say “Okay. You’ll just eat this today. And tomorrow it will be something better because you will love yourself by then and go grocery shopping.” But then tomorrow comes and it’s two weeks later and the eggs are bad again so I throw them in the bin and I think that there might be something wrong with me.

I tend to twist my words when I don’t want to be me which happens a lot because I’ve managed to forget how my body feels and if I have to be me I don’t think my bones will remember how not to break so sometimes words like “is” pretend they are words like “might be” because if you stretch out the truth people get distracted in the gaps and don’t realise your mouth is missing. I think there has always been something wrong with me and the problem with knowing there’s something wrong with you and doing nothing else but thinking about it is that you always know there’s something wrong with you and you know exactly what caused it and how you got here and why you keep buying eggs but you don’t know why you can’t cry these days or if you always hated being here.

I should like being here because my friends hold me and every sunset looks like love has fallen out of the sky and there are a million things I could do but sometimes I think so much about not being here even when sunset blazes and my friends are holding me. I feel so guilty that their arms are wrapped around a dead thing but they keep asking me if I’m okay the same way I keep buying eggs and I keep saying I’ll be fine and I don’t think any of us believe it but I’m not sure if people like us have any other options so I laugh for good measure and feel bad that I can’t say how I’m really feeling as I read articles about how it’s good to say how you’re really feeling which I know is true because I read a lot about brains like mine and I think I am a smart person but then again I don’t know if a smart person would waste as many eggs as I do and I think I’m going to break my mothers heart. 

Only because if she ever finds out how many eggs I have thrown away she will probably realise that I was never any good with money and if she realises that her entire version of me might unravel until only a shadow remains and my dad will look over her shoulder and be so humiliated by the whole ordeal that he won’t even acknowledge it. My mum likes to tell the story of how I was born premature against all the odds and how my tiny barely developed hands ripped off the oxygen mask which signalled to the doctor that I was stronger than anyone thought but if she finds out about the eggs she might realise that I didn’t need that mask because I have never needed to breathe. I have never breathed because I have always been so terrified to make the wrong move that even a breath seemed too risky but everyone called that sensible and said I must be smart because they had never seen a child read so many books but no one ever asked me why I read so much and maybe if they had all those words in my head could have explained that I was suffocating and only books seemed to listen to me but I don’t read much these days anyway. 

I try to when I’m on the train which is fine until I remember people can see me then I forget how to read and start thinking about how all my particles are occupying space and how the eggs in my bag might be cracked and spilling over my laptop right now and god. I know it’s ridiculous to think about eggs this much but they break so easily sometimes I mistake them for the skin of my fourteen year old self and I save recipes every so often with very few steps and cold ingredients because I know what I’m like and that I’d probably be less tired if I ate like everyone else did. I add the ingredients to my shopping list and imagine myself going to the kitchen but then the thoughts catch up and I’m glued to my bed again and wondering how a shadow can be so heavy. I try to teach myself how to breathe but by the time I’ve realised that’s futile it’s time to leave the house again and check if I paid the water bill and balance my limbs enough to pass as human and maybe I can be better this time if I just talk less and feel more maybe I just need to buy more eggs.

s.o.

[zivazivc]

Pinocchio AU

Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:

Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.

They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.

She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.

Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.

It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.

Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.

That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.

They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?

Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.

She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)

Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.

Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!

Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.

Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.

But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.

But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief. 

He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.

This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.

Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.

Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.

Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…

Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.

Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.

She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.

It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.

Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?

He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.

Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)

Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.

This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.

Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.

Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.

He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.

Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.

The show happens here…  And now finally we get to the comic…

Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)

What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.

He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.

✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨

Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.

I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR  because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O

But anyhow…

Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).

Adrien is traumatized for life.

This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all

Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night. 

[musicallisto]

☣ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞; (newt x gn!reader)

@swanimagines​ requested: Okay I'm doing it since you requested too :D Hopefully I'm early. But may I request song 7 with TMR Newt? c: (People made me go crazy about him so I'm spamming him everywhere, sorry XD) song: dani martín & juanes - los huesos | 𝄞

summary: “But he looked so agitated, just an arm’s length away from you... And you were so very cold... Almost as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore, you silently disrobed of your sleeping bag and crouched over to Newt’s.”

author notes: Juanes is both my dad and my mom. he birthed me himself along with the rest of the hispanic community. if you do not like Juanes I am sorry to say that my religion forbids I talk to you word count: 1.3k warnings: none I think. gender neutral reader. a bit similar to my blue light piece but cuddly newt is *heart eyes*. this could’ve been much angstier given the song but I respectfully looked at that idea and said this ain’t it chief

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 of Northern American geography were foggy, stored somewhere in an unreachable part of your brain. Perhaps you weren’t even a particularly diligent student - if you had been one at all someday.

But you were absolutely positive your group of fugitives must have trekked halfway across one state, at least.

Well, if the immense expanse of sand and charred ruins you’ve heard called the Scorch may be considered a state at all.

“We’re stopping here for the night, shanks. Set up camp.”

“Camp?”

“... Set up whatever you can set up.”

Thomas could have rolled his eyes all he wanted, Minho was right to scoff; your group’s meager possessions, stolen in the confusion of your escape, were almost a downgrade from what you used to build in the Glade - certainly not a camp. But little occupied the group’s collective mind more than exhaustion, dehydration, and fear... and exhausted, thirsty and afraid you were. So much so that you barely felt the burn of the blazing sand on your clammy skin when you collapsed on your back, arms outstretched like a panting martyr.

The world spun for a few seconds, sky-blue and piercing... until your nausea subsided, the spinning stars disappeared, and Newt’s amicable voice rang out.

“Up you go, Y/N. We can’t have you faltering just yet.”

His outstretched hand, fresh like a gulp of water, and his clean white shirt, and his pale hair tousled in the hot wind, and bright and kind eyes... were the first and most beautiful colors you’d seen since you’d broken away from the WICKED compound, a truce from the constant aggression of orange dunes and red skin.

You caught his hand but didn’t even feel yourself smile.

You only saw it reflected in his own.

This so-called Scorch got stupidly cold stupidly fast, come nightfall.

The thought of building a fire had lingered at first, but you collectively shut it down, shuddering at the idea of more warmth on your withered skin; so after sharing what little food you had found in your stolen backpacks — a can of synthesized beans that almost made you miss Frypan’s stew and laying your sleeping bags on the bare soil, you resolved to go to sleep with no light and no heat other than the dying day and your friends’ exhausted eyes.

Before the world fell utterly silent, Minho took out his flashlight, cleared his throat, and as though you were kids on a field trip and not fugitives in an unknown and infinite desert, he awkwardly recalled some distant ghost story. None of you scolded him for wasting the batteries away, not even Thomas, laying on his back with a preoccupied frown on his face. Perhaps he was the one who needed to hear of ghosts the most.

You had laughed and shuddered at Minho and the other boys’ stories, almost forgetting the world around you. But now you were shivering in your sleeping bag, and the biting cold was much harder to forget than a bad dream.

You weren’t the only one fighting the night, apparently. A rustling of fabric and sand on your right indicated that one of your friends was locked in battle — against the cold or a nightmare, that you didn’t know. What you did know, however, was the shivering silhouette, in spite of the dark night, and how your heart revolted at the thought of him suffering...

“Newt?” you called out, barely above a whisper.

Some part of you felt awful for disturbing him in whatever peace he had found — heaven knew how scarce quiet could be these days, and often it proved much more terrifying than screams and gunshots. But he looked so agitated, just an arm’s length away from you... And you were so very cold...

Almost as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore, you silently disrobed of your sleeping bag and crouched over to Newt’s.

“Newt, are you asleep?”

A silence. Full and absolute. He stopped shuddering for a second, and it hit you just then that he might have been shaking from something other than the cold.

“No.”

“Can I...”

And your voice trailed off, sentence going nowhere, because it seemed ridiculous enough on its own inside your brain, but for some reason, mayhaps softened by the mayhem of your last day, Newt understood the unspoken, and acquiesced in a breath.

“Yes.”

You sat down next to him; he pressed himself as far as he could against the fabric of the sleeping bag, making room for you. It took you a few tries, some squeaking and groaning, and an unfortunate elbow in the rib before you found a position that suited the both of you; but as soon as you felt the heat of his strong chest radiating off your back in comforting waves, you knew there was no place in the world you’d rather be.

"You’re freezing,” he murmured, not exactly a grunt, and as if to prove his point he took your hands in his and held them like a frozen treasure.

You remained silent for some long moments, his breath fanning over your neck, his arms secure around your waist. You expected the ordeal to be more awkward, especially since you weren’t exactly friends with Newt, so to speak, but weren’t anything more either; but his breathing lulled you to sleep like a familiar song, and you were too far gone to think of anything other than the exhaustion and soreness in each of your muscles. It was like falling asleep like a log after a long day of running in the Maze; all that was missing was the dulcet smell of myrrh...

“Hey, Y/N. Are you asleep?”

You blinked a few times with difficulty. You weren’t in the Maze. You would never go back to the Maze.

“Almost.”

“Do you think we’ll find that Safe Haven?”

From your position, you couldn’t see the stars, or rather what remained of them — only the dunes stretching as far as your eyes could see, and the sleeping forms of your other friends. Maybe that view dampened your answer.

“I have no idea, Newt. It’s like a mirage. But... for what it’s worth... I think you’re doing an excellent job at getting us all ahead.”

“Thomas is the one doing all the leading,” he murmured, his raspy voice sending pleasant chills down your back. “I just want everyone to be safe. That’s my job.”

“And I want you to be safe too, Newt. You deserve to be looked after too...”

Though they were strained, his words carried a wide smile, genuine and heartfelt.

“Good thing I have you for that then.”

As he spoke, he took a strand of your hair between his fingers and absent-mindedly played with it. Outside of your cocoon, a breeze had picked up, colder than the rest of the night, but it was powerless before you.

“Are you warmer now?”

“Yeah.”

You closed your eyes. He was still twirling your hair, and you noticed his breathing slow down and deepen.

“Happy to be of service, love.”

Or maybe it was fatigue that made you hear what you wanted to hear. Newt had never been one for pet names, nor for sly and coy remarks.

Then again, Newt had never been one for holding you close to his heart as you both fell asleep, and you relished in that soft side of him he almost accidentally unraveled that night.

“Thank you for... giving me a hand... when I fell earlier,” you muttered, fighting your own droopy eyes.

“You deserve to be looked after too, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for.”

He gulped, and even through the veil of slumber that progressively covered your mind, you sensed his words held a deeper truth you would never entirely grasp.

“I’ll look after you if it’s the bloody last thing I do.”

Your hands were still in his when you submitted to sleep completely, although you were no longer cold.

Neither of you remembered their nightmares when you woke up in the morning.

tagging; @fives-cup-of-coffee​ @softeninglooks​ (all my writing) ; @lxncelot​ @swanimagines​ (the maze runner)

[prompt-master]

Whisked Away

Everyone was getting settled for bed at the moment. They hadn't managed to find a proper safe shelter, instead they found an overpass to sleep under. While the rest of the survivors were cleaning and setting up their shelter to be as safe and homely as possible, Byakuya was doing one last survey of their surroundings to make sure everyone would be safe. If an emergency broke out they could always try and get Syo out, but why even risk what can be avoided? Not only that but… 

Makoto had been sick lately. It had started with a small fever that Kyoko theorized was just his exhaustion catching up to him. But even after being able to rest often the fever only grew. Her theory changed, now she thought that there was a possibility of infection from the dumpster that she'd missed in the heat of the moment. The logistics didn't matter much to Byakuya though, the damage had already been done and soon they had to carry a feverish and concussed Makoto wherever they went.  

Byakuya a few weeks ago was still able to keep up the show that he wasn't bothered by the ailment, but now it was hard to keep his worry at bay. Not when Makoto's fever had started to cause him to be delirious.

Byakuya pulled himself from his thoughts, after seeing no sign of danger whatsoever he decided to bring himself back to their shelter. He'd managed to find some more food, and even a little manga he thought Hagakure would enjoy.�� At least his venture wasn't for nothing. 

He stepped under the overpass, seeing everyone hunched over. That was strange. He was expecting them to be settling down by now. Then again, these commoners had quite possibly the strangest behavior he'd ever seen. Maybe this was how plebeians talked to each other. 

He opted to ask a question that had been on his mind, "How is he?" 

He expected the answer to be the same as always. "Not better". But instead he was greeted by Kyoko lifting her head and meeting his gaze with one of….

Pure worry. 

Byakuya nearly stepped back at such an open display of emotion. "What's wrong?" 

There was a pause. Now that he noticed everyone looked scared or worried. Yasuhiro was going through their supplies while a pot of water boiled over the fire. 

"Answer me, dammit, what's the problem?"

"Naegi hasn't stopped throwing up." 

What? 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"He-h-he can't hold anything down" Aoi sniffled, her shoulders were shaking in worry but he could tell she was trying to stay strong. "He's been throwing up the entire time you were g-gone…"

"But that would be…" 

Toko was fidgeting badly, looking like she wanted to curl into a ball as her hands pulled and tugged harshly at every joint one by one, "h-h-h-he...h-he threw up w-water too…" 

Byakuya felt cold. 

"That can't be allowed right now!" 

"We know Togamichi! But he can't keep ANYTHING down we've tried even just a few sips and nothing works!" 

He allowed himself to pace inward to be a part of the group. So he could finally get a good view of everything. He could see Makoto lying propped up against a large chunk of broken car, and he looked...awful. His face was scrunched up, the ordeal of constant throwing up had made his stomach and body burn. His face was free of all color, making his fever stand out strong. He was trembling badly, so badly it looked like an unnatural jitter. Kyoko was kneeling in front of him with a hand on his face, trying to keep his head up. Every time she tried to pull her hand back his head wobbled forward or to the sides, unable to muster up the energy to do it himself. His breathing sounded almost wheezy from how out of breath he was. Each breath was sharp and thin. 

 "Naegi" Byakuya spoke before he could stop himself, "can you hear me?" 

No response. 

Kyoko shook her head, "I think all the sudden vomiting put a minor shock on his system. He's been in and out of an unresponsive state." 

Shit. 

"What do we do?" 

The worry in her eyes was suffocating. Byakuya felt as though he was standing in a dry sauna, water bleeding out of the air and leaving nothing but cracked skin and an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

"He needs to be hydrated." Byakuya found himself saying without really thinking.

Kyoko had a hand over Makoto's chest, feeling the racing pace it had taken. It felt like it could give out any second now. "We can't. He won't keep it down. If we had an IV maybe but…" Kyoko took a shaky deep breath,  "we need to lower the fever."

Byakuya kneeled down by the two, now even closer he could see the lack of sweat on Makoto's face. Painfully dry. Painfully hot. "Take off his hoodie."

She nodded, beginning to pull the zipper. Byakuya put his hand to Makoto's neck. He wanted to hiss and pull away. That sort of heat….Makoto's brain had to be bubbling up crudely at such high temperatures. Soon all that would be left would be a charred black sludge. He could feel the rapid pace of his heart beat, without even trying to find his pulse point. Yet for all the speedy thumping it had there was hardly any pressure in the beats. His heart barely had anything to give. 

"Naegi" he said, as Kyoko finished stripping off the rest of his hoodie. "Naegi you need to wake up right this instant." 

Nothing. His mouth was slightly parted. And strangely enough his eyes seemed to be active behind his eyelids. Fluttering around irregularly. It...startled Byakuya in ways he didn't want to admit. 

He heard a snotty sobbing cry, oh...that's right the others are. He had completely forgotten. Aoi's cries were choked, "i-is he going to die!?" she had said between hiccups, but no one had an answer for her. Or rather...they had their suspicions, but not the will to voice the possibility. 

A strange burnt leathery material was placed onto Makoto's head. Wait...no...that was skin. The ruined hands of Kirigiri Kyoko. Byakuya looked up at her, hoping to ask with his eyes only. For Kyoko to take off her gloves so suddenly..

"My hands are always a low temperature" she said, her bottom lip wavered, "the damage is so bad that they are never a human temperature...I thought that maybe it would help…" 

Makoto's eyes fluttered again. The whites of his eyes flickered between the eyelids until his pupils rolled down into the picture. The fluttering of his eyelids didn't stop, but now he seemed to be drifting his attention around. Byakuya's own heart was rabbit paced as he wondered if Makoto could even see anything. 

Kyoko's voice cracked, "Is he responsive?"

Byakuya shifted the hand still cradled in the crook of Makoto's neck. He lifted his head up slightly, watching as Makoto went from staring behind him to staring directly at him. 

"......n…..nmm…"

Makoto felt like someone was jamming a burning piece of metal into his stomach. The pain was so twisting and seering that he couldn’t even bear to cry. He could do nothing but experience the strange flashes of hot and cold, unable to move with the dried up pain inside of him. He may have not been able to move, but the pain in his stomach was well alive. It was a wiggling squirming thing that you could never get used to. It was like a worm that travelled too far into the street after rainfall. A lost and helpless little thing, rolling around until the soles of a shoe grinded down without a passing thought. No...that was too merciful. This pain was much slower, it was more like a worm caught by a fisherman. His stomach was a worm gutted for bait by a child, held at end to end and pulled until the center flesh tore. Hardly even usable after death, left down onto the table until brown sludge gushed from its slimy husk of a body with the slightest bit of pressure. How he wished he could cry. 

Maybe if he could manage to fall back unconscious he wouldn’t have to feel the twisting of the fisherman’s knife tearing into him. Maybe if he closed his eyes he wouldn’t see her hands shaking over the hilt as he lay limp in the shower. He could never forget how she looked at him, her eyes an untold madness of fury and fear. He couldn't handle it, he had to pry his eyes away. He could barely see past the fluttering of his eyelids as he tried to look up at the sky. That dull red peeking behind blackened clouds. It was supposed to be a reminder of the world’s state, but looking at it right now it almost seemed like Heaven. It felt like someone could reach her hand out and whisk him away to a better world. It was the polar opposite to the complete suffering he couldn’t escape. Was all this pain he felt what she felt? Is that why this was happening to him? If he could bear the burden of her death...would he get to feel peace? And then...well then he would get to see all his friends again, right? That made sense. It had to make sense. The sky was so close, such a comforting red. 

Makoto lifted his hand - how long had that been there? He’d completely forgotten - and tried to reach for Sayaka’s hand. For everyone’s hand. Instead of a warm embrace something rippled and cold wrapped around his palm. What was that? It held his hand with a gentle cradle, he could let his arm go loose and let it do the work for him. He trusted this strange embrace, but it wasn’t the one he’d expected.

“M’zno?” Why was the world made of spirals? He felt sick. 

“...No Naegi, it’s not Maizono. It’s Kirigiri, do you remember where you are?”

“...Hi Kiri”

“Hello Naegi.”

“This is a waste of time, what good is this doing?”

“Shush, he’s barely even aware.”

“Indulging his delirium will not make his fever go down.”

“I know that.”

Byakuya crossed his arms as if that would somehow protect him from his uselessness. He refused to accept this. They couldn't just watch. They were no longer those same trapped students helpless to the horrors around them. They could do something now. He just...needed to figure out what. 

“Hi T’gmi” his voice was cracked and soft from the lack of moisture. It must have been torture, not even being able to swallow anymore. Despite that, he still sounded happy to recognize one of his good friends. 

“.....tch, Hello Naegi.”

He didn’t like how Kyoko looked. Holding his outstretched hand with a calm, solemn expression. Kneeling by his side without the rush of adrenaline all the other survivors had. It was the look of someone who had already given up. 

“Do something.” Byakuya hissed. Kyoko didn’t move. “He needs help.”

“He needs comfort,” Kyoko whispered, “he needs rest,” Sayaka said. 

Kyoko tried to lay Makoto down more comfortably, using his balled up hoodie as a makeshift pillow. She smoothed his hair out of his face. If she would lose him soon then at least she got to touch him with her bare hands before he went. He was still looking up at the sky, fingers just barely flexing like he was trying to take hold. She squeezed his hand, heart aching at how little he seemed to recognize. 

“Kirigiri-”

“I just want to be by his side.” she said, “if he doesn't make it...I want to at least be there for him.”

“So you’re giving up.”

She rubbed her thumb in circles on the back on Makoto’s hand as he whimpered miserably, “No, but I don’t want him to be alone either.”

Byakuya turned to the others, barking out orders to search again for something - anything - that could help. Painkillers, fever reducers, survivors, cold clean water. He needed them to search every nook and cranny of this god forsaken world. His last moments spent with Makoto would not be like this. 

Kyoko squeezed his hand again, “Naegi, if you can hear me, can you please squeeze back?”

It was weak...but the fingers curled up. 

She smiled, “Good. You’re doing a great job. One squeeze for yes, two for no ok?” 

One squeeze, he still looked at the sky. Sayaka watched him, but she said nothing. Why didn’t she look happy to see him?

“Are you in pain?”

One squeeze. That was exactly why he wanted Sayaka to whisk him away. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He’d been dealing with the retribution of allowing her murder to happen this entire time, surely she would take him with her?

“Ask him if he can talk.” 

Two squeezes. Sayaka didn’t look angry. She didn’t look scared. So why had she pulled her hand away, why was she looking at Kyoko instead? Why did she look so sad?

“Is this ok?” Kyoko asked, pressing a kiss to his hand. It wasn’t much, but he seemed more relaxed now. And any bit of comfort right now was worth the world to her. Byakuya came back and held Makoto’s other, dismissively staring at the ground. “...Does this really help?” he asked.

Makoto gave one squeeze to both questions. He felt exhausted through his pain, his energy seeping away with each and every breath. It was nice, he had to admit, to know that whether he died or not he wouldn't do it alone. He somehow felt safer, even when he was so unsure about his own fate. He would fall back into an unresponsive state soon, having to trust his friends to take care of them as well as they had been. Something about the way Sayaka looked at him made him feel the slightest glimmer of hope again. Maybe instead...maybe it would be Kyoko and Byakuya who would whisk him away. 

[drethanramslay]

Voicemails (Part 2)

Pairing: Ethan X MC

Word count: 6.3K words (damn that's a record)

Catch up here.

MASTERLIST

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @junggoku​ @ethandaddyramsey​ @edith-eggs1​ @pixelberryownsme​ @samihatuli​ @loveellamae​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @binny1985​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @ohramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​ @itsgoingnuts​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @humanpokemon​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire​ @ac27dj @rookiefromedenbrook @gaiusimp @theeccentricbibliophile  @oofchoices @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter @fabi-en-ciel @mrsdrakewalkerblog @elwetritsche75 @livingpurpose @theraisingrail @drramseysownsme @queencarb​ @andromedasinclaire​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ☺️)

Special thanks to @kittykatchoices​ you are awesome <3

Songs: Based on Rock Bottom by Caro and I have added a few more songs to my playlist which you should hear to enhance the experience.

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

DAY 36 (in Boston, Massachusetts)

Leah trudged down the hallway, sipping on her umpteenth energy drink in that day. Her eyes were trained on the chart in her hand, struggling to read them.

Everything looked bleary from the lack of sleep and her eyes were burning under the glare of the clinical lights. Her entire body was begging for rest but it was as if a switch had been flipped in her brain to ignore it. She ignored her thoughts, her feelings and the ever growing void in her chest.

So is this is how vampires feel, huh? Leah questioned herself, snorting at the poor attempt of a joke. Doing that caused her body to pain.

Pain.

That's all she felt these days. It was initially the pain of a heartbreak and rejection but now, it was just tiredness from the burden of her emotions.

Look at me now... From sunshine I have become a shadow...

Why Ethan?

Why?

Leah was the kind of person who always made fun of the naive girl in a rom-com. Her definition and perspective of love had changed when her mother cheated on her father. She did not shun the idea of being in love, but she was still kind of sceptical about it.

And now that she had a taste of it, she was addicted.

She knew that Ethan returned her feelings. She was not blind and oblivious like him. She could see it in his ocean eyes when they stared from across the room. She could hear it whenever he called her 'sunshine'. She could feel it when his arms wrapped around her as she breathed in his musky cologne, with hints of scotch in it.

They say love is a drug but that's not true.

Ethan is her drug and she craved him.

"Hijo de puta." She muttered under her breathe as she ran her hand through her hair, only to feel her shoulder length locks.

She had cut her hair after her birthday. The entire ordeal had destroyed the remaining sanity in her and she couldn't bear to look at herself. Whenever she would see her long hair, she would be reminded of the times when Ethan would play with them and she would get numb all over again.

She craved change so, she went ahead and cut her luscious, black, waist length locks and added highlights to them. It cost her a bomb but she didn't care.

She didn't care...

That was her mantra now.

She just focused on going through the motions of the day, one step at a time. But often, she found herself stumbling into the pit of self doubt and sadness. Leah knew that she was slipping into depression and that she should do something to change it but... It's addicting. The self wallowing is addicting. The numbness is addicting. The self depreciation is addicting.

She avoided her friends as well but they never gave up on her. Bryce would try to crack jokes and make her smile. Elijah would sit with her and play COD so that she could let out all her anger and sadness by killing some bitches. Aurora and Sienna would force her to eat but whenever they weren't looking, she would give her food to Shawty, their fennec fox. They even tried to provide her emotional support but Leah couldn't bear to see the pity in their eyes.

You should count your blessings... Her consciousness nudged her.

The only thing I want to count are the days until I see him.

She felt her phone vibrate and she unlocked it to see the notification but, the photo on her wallpaper made her stop. It made her heart ache.

She had used Ethan's photo as her lock screen. It was one of those many photos she had clicked of him, which Ethan did not find amusing. It was late and she was bored at the medical convention, so she just clicked them for the heck of it. He was annoyed but despite that, he had a small smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

Who would have thought the great Leah would drop down to such low levels of pathetic? She jeered at herself.

Her phone rang again and a name flashed on it. She immediately silenced because she knew that if she were to pick up that call, she would burst into tears.

She had just finished signing her charts when her pager beeped of, signalling that she was being paged by the Chief.

Leah's face scrunched up with confusion as she left the charts at the nurses' station and headed to Dr. Banerji's office.

What did I do wrong? Leah thought to herself as million of thoughts ran through her head, increasing the pounding in her head.

Trying to calm her racing heart she knocked on the open door. Naveen looked up from his desk and a beautiful smile broke on the senior diagnostician's face.

"Ah! Dr. Garcia, come on in. Take a seat." Naveen said with a warm voice as she walked in and took a seat right opposite him. There was a glass facade behind Naveen which overlooked the busy atrium of the hospital.

"You wanted to see me Chief?"

"Yes I did."

"May I know what is it regarding? Because I think that my heart will pop out of my chest with the excessive stress."

Naveen gave a hearty laugh and Leah gave a nervous smile to him.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I am giving you a couple of days of holiday for your hard work."

Leah shook her head and gave a fake smile. "Thank you Chief but... I don't need an off. I love my job and saving lives so no need for this special treatment."

Naveen leaned forward on his table and locked his warm eyes with Leah's tired ones. "You deserve it. It's been brought to my notice, that you have been working way too hard."

Leah sat a little bit more rigid, not liking the message behind the sentence. "Isn't that a good thing? And isn't that what Edenbrook wants from their doctors?"

"Technically yes... But we also want our doctors to not burn out."

She clenched her jaw before speaking. "Chief, I am perfectly fine. I am not burnt out and I have been very proactive. My patients are all stable and breathing, I have been even helping with the ER more, so how is all of that an indicative of me burning out?"

"Leah... I see you as my grand-mentee and I know you well. I am coming from a position of concern for you. I can't have you being sleep deprived and malnutritioned. It's not good for you."

Leah's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I'm malnutritioned? You haven't even seen me since the last three weeks. And don't say that my friend's put forth this concern because I know that I have done a damn good job convincing them that I am okay."

Naveen just gave a sympathetic look and it clicked.

Letting out sharp breath, she looked down and straightened her pencil skirt, trying to distract herself from the gnawing pain and the influx of hope.

"He called you... Didn't he?"

Naveen gravely nodded his head. "Yes he did. Leah... Please take the next four days off. It's an order."

Leah nodded her head and got up, stuffing her hands into her coat, so that she could hide her trembling hands.

"Yes Chief."

She was about to walk out when Naveen called out to her. "Leah... If it's any consolation, he is in a terrible state and misses you too much."

"No... that is no consolation." She said steely, her eyes becoming cold.

"Leah, just trust me. Ethan has had a tough childhood which has forced him to grow up too soon. He has never been a normal kid let alone a normal teenager. When kids his age were chasing love, he was chasing books. That's why he is a walking robot with no sense of emotions.

Leah, since you came into his life, you have woken up the parts of him which he has kept suppressed. You have forced him to stop and feel. And it's been overwhelming for him. So, just be patient with him."

Leah didn't say anything. She just turned on her heels and strode out of the office.

As she walked to the locker room, she clenched her fists. She was totally pissed and the need to punch something was becoming unbearable.

How fucking dare he just control my life?!

She changed out of her clothes and stuffed them angrily into her satchel. She picked up her phone and saw a notification.

(1) message Captain

She read the message and she felt a little happy. She loved her dad and since the entire shit show had started, she missed her family even more.

Speaking of shit show...

He eyes narrowed in on Ethan's contact and the momentary happiness was dissipated, and anger flooded her body. Her shoulders tensed and she clenched the phone even tighter. She pressed on the call icon near his name and picked up the phone to her ear so that she could give him the cursing of his life.

After ringing a couple of time she heard his baritone voice flood through the speaker.

You have reached Dr. Ramsey. I am currently out of the country. If it's urgent, please leave a message.

"Ethan Jonah Ramsey! You are a maldito (damned male)! For a man, you are one maricon (pussy) and I swear as the days pass by I am more convinced that you are a bastardo sin huevos (ball-less bastard)!!

How fuckin dare you, you asshole?! I fucking know that you called Naveen to tell him to give me an off. I don't know weather to dance with joy that you heard my voicemails or to kick you in your balls for not responding.

You need to man the fuck up Ethan because I know that you are so fucking strong. I know it so well."

She panted, anger swirling even more in her chest.

"Ethan you need to stop playing the fucking victim. I know that you have had a tough childhood and that really hurt you... But I didn't have it any easier either. I was bullied through out school and my mom used to pimp the fuck outta me. She even cheated on my dad for five consecutive years till I kicked her out of the house."

Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. "But that did not once break my spirit E. I didn't let the damage of my past define me. I focused on redefining myself and I got rid of my bad habits like smoking weed and drinking every alternate day."

"We all got scars and I know that it hurts sometimes. I am not discounting your pain but, if you continue to let it eat you up baby then you will lose yourself to it. And I don't want that for you.

Ethan... You are such a beautiful soul and such a great man who is deserving of the best things in life. You deserve love and happiness. The only thing which is standing between you and all the good things is... Well you.

Stop punishing yourself. Because that is not only going to hurt you, but also the people around you.

You have been so deep in that vicious cycle that you haven't realised that you are hurting me too..."

She sighed as she looked down on her black converse.

"Ethan, emotions are what make us human... You can't run from them forever.

What we have, is so so beautiful... Just come back to me so that I can show you that... Till then, take care, love you and bye..."

DAY 36 (in Tefé, Amazonas)

"Till the take care, love you and bye..."

You have reached the end of the voicemail.

Ethan brought his phone down, guilt and shame swimming in his blue eyes. He knew that it was a dick move to call her superior and get her to take an off but he couldn't bare to see her get weaker and weaker as the days passed.

And the fact that I am the reason behind her sadness...

Ethan pressed his palms against his eyes and applied pressure so as to push back the tears threatening to spill.

He felt so much shame. It coiled around his chest, slowly tightening, choking him.

He didn't deserve her love and he definitely did not deserve her empathy. He did not deserve her kindness nor did he deserve the compassion that she showered his way. She did not deserve to be treated like a doormat or be fucked over by the mixed signals. If he truly loved her he would leave her behind and move on with his life.

But he is selfish.

He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her in the arms of another man. The thought made him want to punch the closest thing to him. He looked down to stare at the wallpaper of his lockscreen.

It was one of the many impromptu pictures he had clicked of her. Most of the ones he had were when she wasn't looking his way but this one, was one of the rare ones where she stared at the camera. A beautiful dimpled smile stared back at him, her hair covering half of her face.

God, she is beautiful with a divine soul.

I don't deserve her... But I want to be hers...

He took the stationery out and with a heavy heart, proceeded to pour out all his regret and shame on to the coffee stained paper.

DAY 45

After numerous sleepless nights Ethan knew that if he didn't sleep, he would surely collapse.

So bidding his colleagues adieu, he went to the motorcycle parked in the makeshift parking lot.

He had recently learnt how to drive a bike and now he somewhat related to those motorbike junkies.

It was an exhilarating experience. The breeze whistling through his brown wavy hair, the feeling of the sun shining on his face and to hear the roar of Amazon as he rode down the roads was intoxicating.

He felt the most at peace when he rode the bike. The hum of the engine beneath him would lull him into a state of calmness and it's only during those times, his mind would wander to Leah.

He would often think about how much Leah would enjoy pillion riding. He could imagine her having this wide grin on her face and her arms wrapped around his lean waist. He could imagine her hair billowing behind her in wild waves and the sun would make her skin glow with a caramel hue. She would giggle as the wind tickling her face.

These thoughts were what kept him sane, and gave him something to look forward too. He knew that it was ironic but he just couldn't help himself.

It had been a month since he had last seen her and he missed her so much.

The sun had set and Ethan parked his bike near the B&B he was living in. After taking out the keys from the ignition, he climbed the steps leading to the reception. He gave a nod to the receptionist and trudged to his room, tiredness making him hunch as he walked.

As he stepped into his room, he started stripping till he was in his underwear. He headed to the bathroom to get fresh, his body on auto pilot. His brain felt like mush and his eyes were bloodshot red.

I need a scotch... He thought to himself. In the last month, all the pubs and restaurants were closed so he couldn't go anywhere to get a drink. He was stressed and tired, both emotionally and physically.

He sighed and headed to his bed, stark naked. The moment his head hit the pillow, he passed out, slipping into a deep slumber.

He was so deep asleep, that he didn't hear the sound of his phone ringing.

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

Sunshine streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The reflection of the river casted shadows on the walls and the birds chirped a happy tune, to signal the start of a new day.

Ethan started waking up gradually, feeling much better. He felt well rested and his back wasn't killing him anymore. He stretched, the muscles of his abdomen and back, contracting and relaxing, as he got rid of the lingering sleep.

He sat up and his eyes landed on his phone. Picking it up he started checking his notifications as he headed to the washroom to start with his morning chores.

There were a couple from the hospital, updating him about the patients. None of them were dead so that's a good thing. He saw messages from his dad and Naveen but his eyes narrowed in on a particular name.

Leah🌞 (1) voicemail (10) messages

That's new. Ethan mused as he brushed his teeth. He pressed the play button and kept the phone on speaker.

"Heyyyyy Ethannnn." Leah slurred and Ethan's eyes widened.

"What's up duuddddee? How is it hangin' man? It been so long since I have spoken to you and no this...this 'voicemails' don't count because you aren't replying to me."

A short pause followed before Leah spoke up over the music. "Do you hate me? Like I need to know. I need ANSWERS. Am I that revolting that you had to run thousands and hundreds of miles away from me? Is it because I snort when I laugh?"

Her voice cracked towards the end before she snorted.

"You know what? You are one grade A pussy. Yes, you heard me! Inserts the 'Why are you running?' meme. I don't think you would understand that context because you are an anormal. I- I don't understand this running business. I show you affections you run away. I compliment you, you run away. I have sex with you, you run away. Maybe... Maybe I am the dumbass here?

Tbh, I have no fuckin' clue!!

And I am here all alone in this... Dive in bar or whatever the fuck this is, and the guys have just been flirting with me. And they should because I am a motherfucking goddess!! Like have you see my ass? Wait, you have whoops... but the point is, whenever they walk up to me or- or buy me a drink my dumb brain goes on to analyse how they can never compare to you.

So thanks bro, you fucked me up real good!"

Leah laughed so hard and worry churned in his chest.

She blew a raspberry. "Ethan, idk man you suck. Like so bad...or should I say good? I am confusion at this point. When I am sober, I miss you so so much. So I decided why not forget by getting completely and utterly wasted. But... Now I am drunk and I miss you more and none of my friends are here to save me from my phone so sorry, if I said somethings that I meant, 'kay?

I honestly though that loving you would be easy but... I don't feel like loving you anymore. But that's the thing about love... You can fall in love easily, but getting over someone you love could take foreverrrr.

So, don't worry bro. It's not like I am getting over you anytime soon and I am not running away anywhere. Can't say the same thing 'bout you though...

Anyways, it is 3 am and I see Bryce coming... So fuck you man. You missed out on your one shot at love and I hope you be alone for the rest of your life. Peace out, chinga madre!"

The voicemail ended and Ethan stood in shock.

I don't feel like loving you anymore...

You missed your one shot at love...

Those words cut so deep into his heart. It was painful and Ethan had to grip the counter. He could feel his heart shattering and tears threatened to spill. Those words hurt, it felt like a stitch tearing or a punch in the gut.

Ethan was never one to be affected by words. But these ones stung him.

So this is how Leah felt when I ran away...

As Leah says, I am a dumbass.

Ethan reached for the tap and splashed water on his face and wiped his hands before opening the messages.

Leah... I may be an asshole but I will always want to be your asshole.

That come out wrong.

Fuck.

Ethan shook his head and sat on the desk, scratching his beard and thinking of what to write in his response.

DAY 50

Ethan took his stethoscope from his ears and smiled at the child. "You are getting strong Julio."

"So I am killing all the bad germs?" Eyes filled with curiosity looked up at him.

"Yes. You are just like spiderboy, killing all the bad guys."

"It's Spiderman Dr. Ramsey!!" The boy exclaimed.

It's the same thing! But, Ethan knew better than to bring it up. He had learnt his lesson with Leah and her obsession with Marvel.

"Okay, okay, spiderman. Just a another week of rest and medicines and you will beat all of the bad boys like him."

"But the medicine is so yucky..." The 4 year old scrunched his face up and crossed his arms.

"I know the medicines taste bad so I have something for you for being a good boy."

"Really?!" He asked gleefully.

Ethan dug into his coat and took out some lemon candy. "Here Julio."

He squealed and took it. "Thank you!!"

He felt his phone ring in his pocket and he took it out to see. When his eyes landed on the notification, his face morphed into a grin.

Leah🌞 (1) missed call (1) voicemail

"Who is that?" Julio looked over Ethan's hand to look at the phone. Ethan looked at the kid and saw him staring at the wallpaper of his lockscreen.

"That... That is a girl."

"Even I can see that Dr. R." The kid rolled his eyes and studied Leah's picture with utmost concentration. "Is she your wife? Or your girlfriend?"

Ethan choked and covered it up with a cough. "Um... nothing of that sort. She is just a girl, who I miss a lot."

"But she must be something you, no? If you miss her so much?" Brown eyes twinkled as he looked up with innocence in his eye.

"She is my Sunshine." He shrugged as he ruffled Julio's hair. "But enough worrying about me. Be a good kid and don't bother your mama, Julio." Ethan started walking out if the room.

"Sim! Also, luz solar (your sunshine) is so pretty." The boy called out to him.

Don't I know that?

Ethan shook his head, smiling to himself as he walked up to the nurse's station. He disposed his gloves and sanitized his hands before taking his phone out. He walked to the near by supply closet so that he could hear the voicemail without any disturbance.

"Hey Ethan... Well the last voicemail was a disaster, wasn't it?" Leah nervously chuckled over the line.

"Please don't hate me. I tried to apologise through the messages. And I know you read them because I saw the bubble with three dots for half an hour. So, if you think you are sneaky, then you need to work on your skills old man." She chuckled and Ethan chuckled at the comment.

I could never hate you sunshine.

"I am actually doing so much better now. I think I just needed to get wasted... Have a good cry... And curse you out or something. No offense.

I have been listening to so many songs and I relate to them at a spiritual level. Everything sounds like a love song now. It's a real dilemma whether to dance or cry to them.

Also, Sienna has been such a huge help! Naveen told her whatever happened and she is so supportive... We watched trashy romantic movies and ate so much ice cream. My dad also it's going to come in a couple of days so... Maybe he will give me advice?

So things aren't as hopeless as they were a week ago.

I mean, it still hurts but it doesn't rip me apart everyday. I still hate you a little but, my love overpowers it. It's a war everyday but I try to beat down the sadness everyday."

Ethan felt so proud of Leah. She just needs to be reminded how strong she is and she will annihilate all her demons.

"I am gonna be honest... Your tactic of running away isn't going to make my feelings less for you, because absence makes the heart grow fonder. Like right now, I am witnessing Zaid feeding Ines cake. It's their anniversary and they are so in love that I feel like an outsider.

I mean I am in love but, the love of my life isn't here. So... Yeah.. I miss you right now... But, I have a strong feeling that our relationship is a unique kind, Y'know? Our relationship is so deep rooted and emotionally strong, that it can survive numerous storms.

We are so beautiful and so strong together... 

I am just waiting for the day when you realise that E.

And when you realise, I hope you come back to me."

Ethan brought his phone down, heart filled with so much love for this woman. He is aware of the feelings he had for her and he could have said those three words easily. But, deep down he knew he wasn't ready.

He wasn't the man she deserved yet. He had way too many demons of his past and in order to be with her, he had to face them and this time, he would do it the right way.

So with a bitter sweet feeling and courage, he got up and went back to work.

DAY 53

"Doctor, the gymnasium lot of patients are responding positively to the new vaccine." The young intern spoke excitedly.

"That's good. And have we finished the inoculation procedure for ward 314?"

"Yes doctor."

"Excellent work, Dr. Santos." Ethan nodded before looking down at the charts. It was mid afternoon and the sun relentlessly beat down on his back, making his sweat excessively.

He was standing outside the make-shift tent near the gymnasium, going through the charts. He was posted in the hospital, on the other side of the city usually but they swapped him to work at the gymnasium for today.

He could see so much joy and happiness in the recovered patients as they embraced and kissed their loved ones. It was a harrowing period for them and being apart for two months can really be lonely. He saw the young lovers kiss and hug each other tightly.

Will this be me and Leah when I meet her again? Ethan wondered as his eyes dropped down to the sheets of papers in his hand.

"Ethan! Glad you could join us here." Dr. Batra said with a soft smile.

"Hello to you too Dr. Batra."

"I have told you numerous times to call me Neelam. We have worked and fought an epidemic together so you can call me by my first name."

"Sorry Neelam, force of habit I guess."

"How are you since I last saw you? Have you been eating? Have you been sleeping?" She asked, her eyes critically observing him, like a mother does to her child.

Ethan was not familiar with the concept of maternal love. He found it foreign but at the same time, it helped a little in filling the void in his heart.

"Yes Neelam. I have been taking care of myself."

"And how about your, jaanu?"

"Jaanu?" Ethan asked inquisitively as he turned his head to look at her.

"Jaanu in hindi means love of your life." She said with a sly smirk playing on her lips.

"Good god." He groaned and stuffed his face even more into the charts, feeling his cheeks burning up.

"She is fine." He muttered out.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear that."

Ethan narrowed his eyes at her and she just gave a toothy grin. "I said that she is doing fine. As fine as she can be." He felt a tinge of guilt flare up in his chest.

"Ethan... Don't feel guilty. If she truly loves you, she will understand." her face full of empathy.

"That's the problem!! I have been nothing but a fucktard and yet she shows me empathy and loves me unconditionally. I feel so damn guilty and I hate myself for hurting her."

"Ethan, I have said this before and I will say it again. I can see how much you love her but, how will you return all that love if you can't even love yourself?"

"Love myself? Where is that coming from?"

"You put up the 'I don't give a damn about your opinion' vibe but I can see the self hatred in your eyes. Son, you are the thorn in your own path."

"I..." For the first time in a long time, Ethan was rendered speechless.

"Ethan... The first step towards loving someone is loving yourself first. Okay...Imagine that you have a cup. Self love fills half of that cup up and when you find 'the one', it becomes full. It's like a mutualistic relationship, you fill her cup up and vice versa.

Right now, your cup is empty because of the self hatred. And your girl is trying her very best to fill up the void but, she is loosing out on herself while doing that. It's hurting her as well as you."

"So what do I do?"

"You communicate. You talk out your feelings. Have trust in her that when you open up your deepest vulnerabilities, she will accept it and not hesitate to love you. Love is a two way street. You can't expect her to bare her soul if you can't do the same."

"Wow." Ethan's head was full with thoughts.

"Wow indeed."

"Neelam, we should call you the Love doctor."

She gave a tinkling laugh, her dark brown eyes twinkling. "Nah son. I am just a woman who has seen a lot in life."

He was about to respond when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He dug his phone out and unlocked it.

Leah 🌞 (1) voicemail

"Sorry I have to take this." Neelam nodded and he walked towards the deserted park. He sat down on the rusty swing and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey... So I told you that my dad was coming to Boston, right? Well, we had a nice chat about us and it's been really insightful.

Needless to say my father said some not nice things and he almost brought an entire squad of marines to beat the shit outta you BUT, I stopped him because as much as you infuriate me, I would like your pretty face intact."

Ethan chuckled as he played with his frayed ripped jeans.

"I told him about how sad I have been and how everything sucks. I even spoke about the happy times when we would solve the various cases together or the times when we would buy take out and pull all nighters. I spoke about my fears and doubts that maybe, just maybe you don't love me. After hearing my rant he told me something that helped erase all the lingering doubts.

He said, "Mija, When someone makes you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something." Isn't that true for us?

I can make you so angry that you could put hulk to shame but, I can also make you laugh when you are low. And vice versa! You make me so happy most of the times... when you are not being a colossal pain in the ass."

There was silence on the line, as if she was thinking.

"I think I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt... only more love.

This is just a rough patch but, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Just like after a dark storm comes sunshine.

This is just a test for us, to see if we are strong. And believe me, I think we are the unstoppable duo. The diagnostics posse!

And when all this... Haze of doubts was cleared from my mind, I could see clearly. I could remember the promise I made you.

I will be waiting, for as long as you need.

And it's true.

So for now... I will love you through the phone. I will try to make it a point for you to know, that I will never ever stop loving you. I will be there through thick and thin.

Just give me a chance to prove it. Have faith that I will catch you when you fall. Just, come back to me.

I love you...bye."

Ethan stared at his phone for a long time. There were so many thoughts swimming in his head. But one thought just rang wide and clear in his head. Or rather, one word.

Sunshine...

So he sat there, alone with his thoughts until the sun set on him.

DAY 59

"To the best team of doctors!" A thunder of applause ran through the huge crowd as they screamed and shouted with joy.

"Thanks to these geniuses, Tefé is now free of cholera! Also, a huge thanks to the citizens as well. Your support has been so helpful. We are strong together!" The mayor's voice boomed.

We are strong together... You and I. Leah's words resounded in his head as he looked down at his combat boots, arms crossed.

He wasn't paying any attention to the mindless congratulations. His mind was swirling with the thought that within 60 hours, he is going to see her.

He was done with slogging his ass and he was done running. He will man the fuck up, and fix his issues before he asks her out. That's a promise he made to himself.

The gift he bought for her, weighed him down with uncertainty. Whether she would like it or not.

His mind was also going back to last year. The intern year was going to come to an end in two days and Ethan couldn't fathom just how far she had come. Last year, at this time, he met her. If you would have told him that he would have fallen head over heels in love with someone, he would have just admitted that person for LSD overuse. But, now here we are.

Damnn... Its already been a year.

After the thank you ceremony was done, the doctors headed to the pub for a drink. They ordered some local cuisines and a couple of beers to celebrate their win. As much as Ethan enjoyed the smooth scotch running down his throat, he still couldn't keep his mind off their inevitable meeting.

Will she look at me and be angry?

Will she throw a drink on my face? Or kick me in the balls?

Or will she jump into my arms?

Questions... Questions...

By the time they were done, it was almost 2 am. They had an afternoon flight so that was a good thing. He wasn't drunk, but definitely a little tipsy. The last thing he wanted was to nurse a hangover early in the morning that too, on a flight.

After being dropped off at his B&B, he felt his phone vibrate. He saw Leah's name flash and his face scrunched in confusion.

It's late, she should be asleep.

He pressed the button to play the voicemail and Leah's soft voice flooded, making Ethan even more intoxicated.

"Hi... Today it's a clear sky and honestly, it looks so beautiful. The moon is shining so bright and the stars are twinkling. I was brought up in Washington DC and never in my life have I ever seen so many stars at night. It's so breathtaking..."

Ethan headed to the basically and stood outside. He leaned on the railing and looked up and indeed, it was a starry night. It was like diamonds glittering and swaying in the moonlight. And the moon... It shone in its elegance, basking Ethan in its radiance.

Leah chuckled. "I can't believe it's been a year since I became a doctor. A full fledged working doctor. It seems so surreal how this year passed by in a flash. I feel like I have grown and matured, but at the same time I still feel as clueless as my first day of work.

The day I met you... T

o be honest, I expected a grumpy old grandpa as Ethan Ramsey, but I got a handsome, dashing grump instead. I ain't complaining though. It's just...I am in a reminiscing mood."

Don't worry sunshine... Me too.

"Did you know, when we look at stars on a clear night sky we are, in a way, looking back in time? Before you roll your eyes and think this is some philosophical propaganda, there is a perfect logical explanation to it. What we see today is an object whose emitted light started its journey millions of year back and from trillions of kilometres away and are reaching our eyes now.

So... Here I am, peeping into the memories of our past. The kisses, the hugs, the love making and the joyous moments we shared. I miss that..

I miss us... I am here, waiting for you.

Come back to me, Ethan."

Ethan replayed the voicemail, as he continued to look at the stars, thinking back to the times when he had her I'm his arms.

Don't worry sunshine, I am coming home.

well, what do you think?

and what do you think will be Leah’s reaction?

a. she will kick him in the nuts

b. she will kiss the fuck outta him

c. all of the above

I hope y'all liked it.. was lowkey nervous bout this fic heheheh

like, comment and reblog ;))

[dhwty-writes]

I've had 'Just give me a reason' by pink stuck in my head all day lol, I humbly offer it as a song prompt if it sparks anything :D

“If it sparks anything”... Fam, I just astralprojected back to 2013 and my first kiss! I had a lot of fun with it (although I got a bit distracted midway through, I’m sorry!)

I also couldn’t decide whether I wanted to do a post-mountain fix-it fic or a modern AU, so you’ll get both! Here’s the angsty one (that’s way longer than expected) :)

Read on AO3

The unfairness of it all as he staggered down the steep mountainside was overwhelming. Twenty years of his life for... what exactly? For nothing at all!

Over half of his measly human life he'd spent trailing after that grumpy... horse's arse of a witcher. He poured his heart and soul into a song cycle just to change Geralt's undeserved horrible reputation! (And to get rich, of course, but that was neither here nor there.) By rights he should claim ten percent of Geralt's income, but did he? No, of course not!

He'd never asked anything in return. Nothing but company, a friend, a tiny bit of affection even. Not love, of course. He might be delusional and a hopeless romantic, but not that much of an imbecile.

He knew Geralt loved Yennefer and that the affection was mutual. It was pretty much obvious for about anyone who saw them together. And Jaskier wasn't just anyone. He and the witcher shared just about anything — food, coin, clothes, beds sometimes, when it was cold or there was only one room left. And, though the witcher denied that fervently, Geralt talked in his sleep sometimes.

Jaskier had discovered that one freezing night in a tavern in Kovir, when he'd woken up because he was uncomfortably warm. Additionally, to the heap of quilted blankets they laid under, Geralt had draped himself over him, too, clutching him tight against his chest. 'Cute,' Jaskier had thought, 'Geralt's a cuddler.'

But then he had started talking, and it had been torture of the most exquisite kind. Most of his ramblings were unintelligible, but those he could understand were unbearably sweet. "Don't go," Geralt would say whenever Jaskier tried to move away. Or "C'mere" and tug him closer to his chest. There were plenty of "Y'smell good"s and, on one memorable occasion an "I love you". None of them were meant for him, of course. But, oh, how he wanted them to be.

Jaskier had fallen for Geralt the moment he'd spotted him in that tavern, grumpily nursing his tankard of ale. He'd been absolutely smitten as soon as they walked free from Filavandrel and Geralt smiled at his "Respect doesn't make history" nonsense, thinking he wouldn't see. They had travelled together for the better part of a month, before destiny had parted them again. At an inn at the crossroads Jaskier had stolen a pretty lad's virginity and Geralt had ridden off into the sunset, not knowing he had stolen Jaskier's heart in turn. 'Good old days.'

Only that they weren't good anymore. Jaskier heaved a sigh that sounded more like a sob than anything else. What had previously been a rose-and-gold-coloured fantasy of a memory, seemed now rather dull, truth be told.

After a few weeks going their separate way, Jaskier had heard of a witcher near Hagge and gone to seek him out. They had travelled again, on and off. Most of the time it had been him, who had actively looked for Geralt, tracking down rumours about white-haired monster hunters. But not always.

Right before the whole child surprise ordeal, it had been him performing in a tavern and Geralt barrelling inside, interrupting him mid-song. "Jaskier!" the witcher had shouted. "There you are. I've got a contract, come with me?"

Or that other time in early fall. He'd gotten himself a comfortable place for the winter in the home of some noble lady, who he'd been entertaining with music, poems and other uses of his silver tongue alike, when one early evening a servant knocked on their door, quite adamantly insisting there was a visitor for the troubadour. His host had been none too pleased when he'd gotten up and dressed to greet a witcher of all people. "What the fuck were you thinking, bard," Geralt had growled, "not showing up all summer. I thought you were dead."

All in all, Jaskier had thought that his affection was, at least to some extent, reciprocated. And now this.

After twenty years the moment he'd dreaded had finally come. Twenty years of lavishing Geralt with love. Geralt, the person who'd been told he couldn't feel, mustn't feel. Twenty years of shouting his adoration to the heavens, to finally be told that it was unwanted.

To borrow Geralt's words: "Fuck." He needed a drink.

~*~

Geralt of Rivia was an idiot and he knew it. The revelation had dawned on him almost instantly after his foolish outbreak. Well, not entirely instantly. He had a feeling, at the very least, although he hadn't expected the bard to take his words literally. 

He hadn't been able to get rid of him with his gruff exterior before, so he hadn't thought he would now. The realisation that Jaskier was truly gone dawned on him, when he reached the base of the mountain a few days later and the bard was nowhere to be found.

Roach was still there, as were Geralt's bags. Their content wasn't. After twenty years of carrying frivolous outfits, chewed-on quills tattered notebooks that smelled of lavender, they were uncomfortably light.

"Fuck," Geralt said quietly. He didn't know why, but some part of him had hoped to find Jaskier there. 'Where he belongs,' his brain supplied unhelpfully. He frowned deeply, trying to rid himself of that thought. Jaskier wasn't some kind of possession to be owned.

But when he settled down for the night that evening, the forest devoid of any melodic chattering, of joyful laughter, of life, he knew it was true. Jaskier might not belong to him, he mused as he crawled into his bedroll. 'But he belongs to my side all the same.'

Somewhere along the twenty years of companionship — gods, was it truly twenty years? It was nothing for him, but such a long time for humans, who aged so fast — Jaskier had managed to firmly worm himself under Geralt's skin, to the point where there was something missing now that he was truly gone.

Geralt slept terribly that night. When the sun rose the next morning, he set out on another hunt. Not for a monster, that time, but the best thing destiny had ever given to him, that he had chased away with his brashness.

The scavenger hunt led him halfway across the continent, until he stumbled into another tavern on the coast of Temeria. Jaskier's trail hadn't been too hard to follow. Apparently, his friend had been fucking and drinking his way through three kingdoms.

And the bard looked as if he was doing a good job of adding a fourth one. He was more than just a little tipsy, sitting rather than standing on the stage. An agonised look passed over his face when he saw Geralt. He wanted to rush over and pull him into a hug, but then Jaskier started singing and the witcher was just frozen in place. It was the most heart-wrenching ballad yet. It took him only about three lines to realise who it was about. 'Fuck,' he thought.

All his instincts told him to flee. He wasn't prepared for this. He couldn't do this. But Jaskier had seen him already. No getting out of it now.

So, he shouldered his way through the crowd Jaskier always attracted and tried to hide in some secluded corner of the tavern. It took incredibly long for the bard to finally finish his set, and even then he made no attempt to seek Geralt out. Instead, he languidly leaned onto the bar, flirting with the barmaid behind it.

He barely suppressed a growl. 'Fine,' he thought and got up to confront his mistakes. He slammed his tankard down next to Jaskier, scaring the barmaid off in the process. "Jaskier," he greeted him.

"Oh, great," he sneered in response. "There goes my bed for the night."

"Hmm," he answered and ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

"What, for chasing off my newest conquest? I fucking hope you are!"

"No, Jaskier," he answered honenstly. "I'm sorry for what I said to you."

"Hmph, you need to do a lot better than that," he said and reached over the bar for a bottle of strong-smelling liquor. He poured himself a glass and knocked it back. Without pause he continued: "Because you know what? I'm fucking angry, Geralt."

"Do we have to do this here?" he hissed. They were attracting glares. Never a good thing for a witcher.

"No," Jaskier admitted and stood up. Bottle in hand he walked towards the stairs. "You're paying for the room."

"Sure," he grumbled and flagged down the innkeep. By the time he had managed to acquire a key, Jaskier had already dragged himself upstairs and drained a good portion of the bottle.

Geralt snorted and unlocked the door, but didn't comment on it. "What I've been trying to say-" he began, and was promptly interrupted:

"How about trying to shut up?" Jaskier hissed and kicked the door shut. "How about trying to listen to me after twenty fucking years?!"

"Jaskier, what I said-"

"This isn't about what you said! Don't you understand? What you said is only the tip of the figurative dragon mountain. I thought you actually liked me! I thought we were friends."

'Shit,' Geralt thought and ground his teeth. "Hmm."

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "Oh, great. That same old story again. Why am I even bothering...?" He drank straight from the bottle, swaying a bit on his feet.

"You're drunk," he tried to say as neutrally as possible.

"And you're shutting me out again," he countered. Neither of them were wrong.

"I don't know what to say," Geralt tried.

Jaskier wasn't impressed: "Evidently." He made no attempt to follow that up with anything.

After a few moments of silence, Geralt realised that it was his turn to try and fix this mess with words of all things. "I can't sleep," he tried. "Not since you left."

"Poor you," Jaskier mocked cruelly. "I can't either."

"I can't sleep without you," he tried again. "It's cold. I'm dreaming. And when I wake up I'm alone. Roach is a horrible conversationalist and my camps are too big."

Jaskier put the bottle down slowly, gaping at him.

"I walked the path for decades without you and it was fine. It's not anymore. I can't do it any longer. And I guess... I guess I was scared." The words weren't any less intimidating once he'd finally said them. "You said I talk in my sleep?"

"You do."

"I don't. It's been beaten out of me in Kaer Morhen."

"So?"

He closed his eyes as tightly as he could. It was stupid, he knew. Childish, even. But he couldn't look at Jaskier for this. "So, I meant it. Every word of it."

No reaction.

"Please, Jaskier, I need you to forgive me."

"Give me one reason and I just might." He could hear him come closer. "Say it," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and say it."

It took him every ounce of his discipline to open his eyes and look at Jaskier, barely two feet away from him. "I love you," he said quietly.

"Louder."

"I love you. I've loved you for years, and it scared me, so I couldn't let you know. Witchers aren't supposed to be scared, and that scared me even more, and-"

The rest of his words was silenced by Jaskier's lips. The bard practically leapt at him, snaking his arms around his neck and pulling him close. "You're an idiot," he said when he pulled away. "A fool, a nitwit, an absolute imbecile. The stupidest man alive!"

"I am," he agreed, looping his arms around his waist.

"Why, oh why, do I have to love you of all people?"

"You love me?"

He laughed a teary laugh. "I do, I do. For years and years. How didn't you notice?"

"Because I'm a fool," Geralt said and kissed him again. He just couldn't resist.

"I'm still angry," Jaskier informed him.

"That's alright. But you don't hate me?"

"Far from it."

"And when I wake up on the morrow, you'll be there?"

"Yes," Jaskier promised with another kiss.

Geralt couldn't help but grin. "Good."

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Episode 2, Part 1

Hello all, here comes the first part of the second episode to Midnight Striga, my Fairy Tail/Owl House crossover fic! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

With a spine-cracking yawn, literally her spine cracked from doing it once, Eda, the Owl Lady of Bonesburough, woke up for another day of living her life of freedom and liberty from Bone-head’s regime. With a tired sigh, idly wondering where she put the Apple Blood, Eda trudged down the stairs. Unusually for her, her mind was exceptionally clear this morning, something that she usually needed at least two to three cups of Apple Blood to fully achieve. In her musings, Eda’s mind turned to her new housemate, and the nearly mind-breaking revelations she had received the day before.

“So, humans can actually use magic, so our whole belief of it coming from the Titan probably has some holes in it, among other things. Heh, wonder how Lily would take all of this?” Eda pondered, for once not shying away from thoughts of her estranged sister. Letting out another yawn, Eda ambled downward, mind languidly scrolling back and forth, trying to figure out what the feeling of differentness was coming from. Just as she was about to give up, something she does gladly if she doesn’t really care about the subject, her nose caught a whiff of something. Honestly, whatever it was, it smelled divine! Inhaling deeply, a surge of alertness rippling through her body, and making a note to ask the kid about that for later, Eda took stock of her surroundings again, finally nailing what had been confusing her.

Her place had been cleaned.

That by itself wasn’t too unusual, despite what some people may believe, Eda is not a slob, and tries to keep things as neat as she alone possibly can, and she regularly used cleaning house as a way to keep herself busy when her boredom was at its worst. But this was different. The walls were scrubbed, her junk (Treasures! She said treasures) had been sorted and organized, which, she admitted, definitely cut back on the amount of space they took up.

Deciding that trudging all the way to the kitchen or living room wouldn’t be able to satisfy her curiosity, Eda called out. “Hey Kid! Did you go through my stuff?”

“Sorry, Miss Eda!! I was a bit too eager to get started, so I kinda, sorta, got everything settled? I hope that’s okay? Is it okay? I hope it’s okay.”

Eda blinked. That… was odd. The kid was rambling, something that definitely seemed at odds with the cool, level-headedness she had displayed prior. Making her way over, she got a look at the girl, her suspicions confirmed. Wide-eyed, with heavy bags, hair an utter mess, clothes mismatched. Luz was a mess; by Eda’s best estimate, she either hadn’t gotten to sleep at all last night, or had gotten up so soon afterwards it made no difference, and had spent the entire time working on the house.

“Kid?” Eda hesitantly broached. “How long have you been up?”

Luz blinked. “All night. I never went to bed, not really. I mean, I tried to sleep, but then my brain started racing, makes sense, whole new world and all, and so much to do, so much to explore, I can finally read my notes and research!! HOW AWESOME IS THAT!! But it was too dark to read, and I didn’t wanna risk waking you up with a light, so I got started on all the junk you’ve got lying around.” She leaned against aforementioned junk, now neatly sorted into manageable stacks, you could actually tell what it was!! 

What Luz was leaning against appeared to be a stack of crystals and devices that had crystals stuck into them. Eda had never really thought about selling them, they didn’t have any of the oddness to them that got her other junk snapped up, but the way Luz was staring so intently at them made Eda feel like she lucked out by holding on to them.

Luz shot forward, an absolutely manic grin stretching across her face. “WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU HAD SO MANY LACRIMAS!?!??!?”

Eda blinked, that feeling of having lucked out screaming through her. She still had no clue what Lacrimas were, but if how Luz was reacting was any indicator, they were something valuable. And she apparently had a LOT of them!! 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Yeah, as much as Eda wanted to cash in on this, it was better to head the kid off while she could, get a little info, than use a sleep spell on her before she did something stupid.

Luz blinked, clearly confused, before responding, slapping a hand to her forehead in realization. “Right, you’d have no clue what that is, different world and all that.” Luz rocked back, her tired eyes clearing some of the crazy out, and gaining some much needed clarity of thought. “Lacrima are basically pure magic condensed into a solid, crystal state. They are used in a lot of ways, but they are typically reserved for high-end stuff, not counting the lower-quality, disposable ones.” She glanced around, getting a better feel of what all she did last night. “I honestly have no clue where or how you got so many, or what the average quality of them all is, but it’s a huge find.” She turned her gaze back to a contemplative Eda. “But that’s not what you actually want to talk to me about, is it?” She mused.

Eda snorted, impressed that the girl had managed to gather her thoughts while as addled as she was. “You’re not wrong, kid. I was gonna ask you to handle my potion deliveries, something I use to keep grub on the table in addition to my stand, but from what I can see, you aren’t in any shape to go off into town.” She arched an eyebrow, almost daring Luz to challenge her. Naturally, Luz obliged.

“Hey, you got nothing to worry about!” She boldly declared, gesturing to the concoction she was currently mixing. “I’m brewing up an energy booster to get me through the day. It’s not my area of study, but I’ve had to make these enough times before to get good results.” She turned a grin towards Eda that under normal circumstances probably would’ve been smug, but just looked sleepy at the moment.

Eda chewed her lip, contemplative. “Okay, if this actually works, you can head out today, but you’ll have to take King with you, just to be safe, got it?” Her snappy tone was undercut by the hint of worry and concern within.

“Yes! Wacked out alternate dimension, here I come!!” Luz cheered, just barely avoiding knocking her mixture to the ground. Putting out a hand to steady it, she carefully spooned out her Pick-Me-Up Potion, patent pending, and deposited the potent mixture directly onto her tongue, wincing at the intensely sour flavor. Any further thoughts were cut off as the Potion started to do its job.

Eda watched, a mix of fascination and disgust playing across her face at the sight before her. The contortions and sounds alone were enough to turn even her stomach, but she couldn’t deny that, when the horrific ordeal was over, Luz certainly looked refreshed and energized. Still, if she never saw THAT again, it would be too soon.

“Ah!” Luz sighed, drawing her arms out in a spine pulling stretch. “Man, that always feels GREAT!!! So, when do I head out?” She asked, oblivious to Eda’s prior disgust.

Shaking off her discomfort, Eda pulled off a grin. “Well, kid, as soon as we get King out of that pile of food,” she gestured to the aforementioned Demon gorging himself on the snacks Luz had prepared in her sleep deprived activity. “You and him can head into Bonesburough to get my potions dropped off and give you a better lay of the land.” Eda finished.

With a beaming grin, Luz rushed over to King, yanking the now frantically squirming demon out of the pile of food, and stood stock still in front of Eda, a gaze shining with excitement burning in her eyes. Getting the hint, Eda rolled her eyes and brought out the sack of potions. Still, Eda couldn’t really fight the grin that cracked at the eagerness of her new tenant.

With a smirk, Eda decided to give the girl a little breather to adjust to her new energy before she headed out. “So kid, before you go running off, is there anything in particular you wanna know about the Isles?” Whatever the kid said, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to deal with.

“Why exactly are you a criminal?” Luz asked steadily, having released King to his meal at Eda’s question.

Oh, so it would be a bit of trouble to answer. With a sigh, Eda dragged her hand down her face. “It’s because I never joined a coven.” At the look of blank incomprehension, Eda decided to head the question off. “And I’m guessing you don’t know what those are, right?”

“You are correct.” Luz knew about Guilds, but whatever a Coven was, it wasn’t anything she’d ever heard of before.

Eda smirked at that, she wondered how the kid would react to what she had to say. “Well, here on the Isles, we follow what’s known as the Coven System. I won’t get into the really complex bits, but the overarching rules are these: firstly, joining a Coven means you can only perform magic that goes with the Coven, secondly, while some exceptions have been made in the past, once you join a Coven, you are stuck with that one for the rest of your life, and finally, joining a Coven is mandatory, and if you don’t join a Coven, you’re branded a criminal and a heretic. A heretic like me, for instance.” She sat back, confident the kid wouldn’t condemn her, but nervous as to how she would react as a whole.

You could hear a pin drop in the room. Luz was utterly still, her eyes shadowed by her hair. Nothing gave any hint as to her thoughts, aside from the tight clenching of her fists. “That. Is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard in my life.” Luz was incensed. What she was hearing was what sounded like one of the most self-serving and oppressive systems she had ever heard of. The only thing she could accurately compare it to was the old system used by the Alvarez Empire, which drafted any and all magic users in the country into their army, whether they liked it or not.

“Trust me kid, you don’t know the half of it.” Eda chuckled bitterly. She couldn’t lie, seeing someone else have that same level of anger at the system was cathartic for her. Who knows, maybe the kid could stir things up around this place?

Luz huffed, her excitement for the day ahead lost in the wake of that wonderful news. “Well now, at least I won’t have to worry about making a good impression with the locals.” Her deadpan comment released a raucous roar of laughter from the Witch across from her.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!!! Kid, you have nothing to worry about in that regard. Aside from jackasses like Wrath, people around here are pretty chill for the most part.” Eda replied.

Luz was unconvinced. “Ya sure about that?” She asked, crossing her arms, almost challengingly.

Eda grinned. “Yeah, they are; they might freak out about your appearance for a bit, but after a short while, they’ll just stop caring altogether. Any issues are more likely to crop up from elitists and die-hard conformists like Wrath, or people who actively look down on Humans.” Considering just how big Bonesburough was as a whole, Eda was certain the second was more likely to occur than the first, but even that wouldn’t be too common all around.

Luz snorted. “So, my biggest concerns for the near future are the always fun to deal with local racists. Hooray.” The utterly flat reply sent King snorting from his spot by his meal, with Eda joining him a second later.

King decided now was a good time to pipe up. “Eh, they talk a big game, but anyone who actually gives anything about you being a Human is just blowing smoke, or thinks they're bigger than they are.” While Eda would ordinarily point out the fact that King himself regularly thought he was bigger than he was, she internally conceded that he had a point.

King looked up, pondering everything that had happened yesterday. “Luz, you are crazy strong, even by the usual craziness of Bonesburough. Nothing other than the guards can really threaten you in town, and the guards are only a problem because of their magic, and they aren’t that good at using it as a whole, either.” A great and mighty king of demons he may be, but let none say that King was stupid, nor that he was foolish. “Luz, you shook things up on a level that nobody has done in decades.” He turned to the girl, his eyes gleaming. “Things are gonna start changing now because of it, and I wanna be here for that change. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Eda grinned, proud of her oldest charge. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Before King could start boasting, Eda smooshed his fur, sending him into a tizzy as he tried to fix his “luxurious mane,” and turned back to Luz. “I may not have phrased it all that well earlier, but while things may not be smooth-sailing for you, you’ve got more than enough power to handle nearly anything that comes your way. And if need be, you’ve got the Owl Lady herself in your corner!”

Luz grinned softly at the older Witch, eyes slightly teary. “Thanks Eda, that means a lot.” She croaked out. What could she say, they were both being really sweet! Turning back to King, she found he had settled down, and was waiting patiently, for him anyway, by the door, lightly gesturing both to it, and the sack of potions she would be delivering. Getting the message, Luz scooped the sack back up, gave a quick hug to Eda, much to her surprise, and headed out the door, King eagerly trotting behind her.

Eda sighed. “That kid is gonna get into so much trouble… and I won’t be able to see any of it!” She complained. “Hooty… WHAT ARE YOU DOING DRINKING THAT POTION!?!?”

[rvmmm21]

. you know who i am? .

k, so i didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand. also, my first time writing in present tense? idk how to feel about it, but i guess it’s different. it felt so different writing for like actual humans lol. my first ‘normal’ fic, this is!

please for the sake of this making sense can we all pretend jennie, joy and irene are around the same age? also look who had fun with brand names. moi.

anyways this is [badgirl/bully!joohyun ‘persuading’ clumsy freshman!seungwan to be her assignment buddy] 

...

University culture is grating.

It’s overwhelming and it suffocates her. She has no time to prepare herself for the apparent runway the halls have become, what with the stupid-rich kids treating every day like it’s a fashion show; Seungwan can barely blink from one person to the next without being smacked across the face with fur coats from Chanel, Louis Vuitton sunglasses hidden under Prada nylon bucket hats and Off-White tracksuits tucked into Balenciaga socks. She hadn’t considered a future in law enforcement, but had she done so, anyone who tucked their trousers into their socks mid-calf would find themselves behind bars with the rest of the criminal scum. End of.

Just as she dusts her hands of that smug little sentiment, Seungwan finds herself with a face full of hair, and an even bigger nose full of what smells like laundry detergent. She lets out an embarrassing squeal, and the girl turns round to face her. A ghost of a scowl brushes across her face before she fixes her with an indiscernible gaze.

That scowl is an awful colour on a face as pretty as yours, she impulsively thinks.

Seungwan knows no more about the history of art and the intricacies of sculpture than the average Joe, but she’s sure Michelangelo missed the mark with David. She inwardly laughs at the thought of the man dedicating his entire being to crafting his flimsy idea of ‘perfection’ when she’d just bumped into it; the real thing. Of course, if that was defined by forming new constellations from faded freckles on flawless skin, or vantablack tresses framing sharp features like a painting, then yes; she was, by very definition, ‘the perfect (wo)man’. Easily outdoing anyone within a 50-metre radius.

Heck, make that 500.

The girl glares intimidation and Seungwan manages to save herself the humiliation of drooling in front of the white-hot beauty and her friends with a quick gulp, already feeling crimson seeping into her cheeks.

Perfect; now that she’s watched whatever new potential friendship this was blow up in her face, all she has to do is avoid her at all costs from here on out.

She mouths a haphazard apology and zooms past before anything can come of it, keeping her head down even after she’s well out of sight. Seulgi, Seulgi, Seulgi, save me, she brisk walks and begs all the way to class.

~~~~~~~~~~

A small commotion rings through the lecture hall of keyboard clicks and lethargic shuffles, calling to attention the girl who’s just spilt her drink down her front, now frantically digging around in her backpack for anything she can use to soak it up. A few jeering giggles are stifled, meanwhile students close by donate tissues and sympathetic looks. They are gratefully accepted with rapid-fire bows and machine-gun stuttered apologies.

“That freshman’s just ruined her rep, huh?” Jennie chuckles, “blindly walking into people… can’t even keep liquid in the cup. Give her a dog collar and a sign and she’s good to go.”

“Eh, I thought it was cute.”

Jennie’s retort comes quick.

“Sooyoung, you think anything in a skirt is cute.”

“What,” the girl says, ignoring the implication, “Haetnimie doesn’t wear skirts. And she’s not even wearing one right now. Plus, I didn’t say ‘she’s cute’, I said ‘it’s cute’. Learn the difference, idiot… it’s not like I wanna have at her or anything…”

Jennie shoots her an incredulous look and Sooyoung relents the banter. They both turn their attention to the girl sitting next to them, completely un-present in the moment. Sooyoung notices who she’s looking at and leans in to nudge her.

“Joohyun,” she whispers, poking her in the ribs when it’s obvious their friend is well on her way to signing a contract with NASA with how apparently well accustomed to space she is, “what do you think of her? Or are you still mad she walked into you?”

“Nah, forget it,” Jennie waves her off before she’s even had a chance to respond, “she’s not interested. I had to literally pay her money to go on a stupid double date with me in high school. I washed five cars for her to not even hold his hand once during the movie.”

Instead of participating, Joohyun sighs, casting the girl in question a seemingly uninterested stare. Unbothered eyes take in the sight she’s presented with: frustrated brows knitted together under a wispy caramel fringe and a blot of taro milk tea the size of Canada staining her baby blue jumper.

“I want her.”

The words are so simple her friends almost miss them entirely.

Sooyoung and Jennie battle for first place in an impromptu competition of ‘who’s-the-most-shocked’.

“You’re joking! Yah, you’re so annoying seriously, now?! You couldn’t have ‘wanted’ Min-seok in year nine?! I paid good, hard cash for that stupid boy!”

Joohyun looks at her, smug as a cat.

“I did it for you, Jennie. I didn’t even remember his name was Min-ho.”

“Min-seok.”

“Yeah, right.”

Sooyoung, wide-eyed and on the verge of passing out, grabs Joohyun by the shoulders, ignoring the glare she receives for it. “Joohyun, seriously? You’re serious. You want her like want her? Or want her like you wanted that cookbook after that trial week of Food Tech during summer break?”

Joohyun regards her, absolutely blasé. “I don’t follow recipes.”

“Exactly. Are you play-”

Sooyoung’s statement dies down with the rest of the class as the lecturer walks in. Furious clicking, hurricane scribbles and flipping pages are all that remain as the lesson kicks off, Jennie and Sooyoung casually scrolling through Instagram while the professor speaks. Joohyun leans forward, elbows on desk and chin resting on interlocked fingers. Her full attention is on the poor girl on the other side of the hall, intermittently peeling the cold, damp fabric away from her body, face flushed and avoiding all eye contact. Joohyun snickers at how uncomfortable it must be to have to sit through class in a wet jumper, how awkward and squeamish she looks.

Strawberry-tinted lips curl into the faintest smirk.

Hello cutie.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yah! Kang Seul-Gi!” Seungwan calls out to chocolate-swirly space buns and baggy gym clothes hurtling towards her from across campus grounds, “where the heck were you?!”

“Sorry sorry! Overslept!”

“What!? Your class starts at noon! … and this is like… day 1!”

The girl looks like she’s barely had the chance to screw her head on the right way as she joins Seungwan on the steps of the university entrance.

Seungwan’s sweating buckets; physically and metaphorically, both from the waves of humidity and her all-exclusive one-idiot circus show this morning in class. That little muck up makes it to the tippy top of the endless list of embarrassing things Seungwan has stored in her long-term memory.

“You okay?”

Seungwan palms rosy cheeks as she takes another mouthful of her rainbow sherbet cone.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.”

Seulgi chortles as her best friend recounts her ordeal, trying to subdue the sea of smart alec remarks bubbling under her skin.

“So that was great, too. And now I’m a laughing stock. A meme. They’re probably editing my stupid face as I speak…”

Seulgi reverts back to the first incident. Of course she would.

“Sooo… not like in the dramas then?”

Seungwan hangs her head, “not at all… she looked like she wanted to kill me.”

Seulgi lets out a snort before prodding her with more curious questions. The cogs in Seungwan’s brain churn and stutter as she tries to filter as many redundant adjectives as possible, only using ones she deems absolutely necessary to describe the most beautifully terrifying girl she’s ever seen.

Just then, as if Seungwan had meant to conjure hell itself, the three girls make an appearance from round the corner, chatting amongst themselves and taking Seungwan and Seulgi by surprise. The latter glances down where steely fingers are squeezing her wrist, as if that’d activate some magical cloak of invisibility. Seungwan’s as good as swallowed her tongue, shakily motioning to the girl in the middle of the black velvet storm with her eyes and a few nose twitches.

“H-her…” she stutters, finally getting her brain into gear after they leave, “… her.”

Innocent eyes double in size at the realisation.

“Wha-wait no, her?! You bumped into… her?! Her, Bae Joohyun leader of killer senior pack Bae Joohyun?”

Seungwan’s heart only thumps faster at the panic in Seulgi’s voice, but her words still mean nothing. The other girl swipes the dangling question marks off the top of her friend’s clueless head.

“Yo Wan-ah, you have to lay low. I mean why would you even – oh geez wow you really messed up. Can’t you look where you’re – I can’t even begin to – why would you – oh my gosh!”

Seulgi’s disjointed sentences allow enlightenment to trickle in and Seungwan slaps a hand over her forehead, mortified.

Oh god no. That’s the Bae Joohyun?

She’d heard the rumours. Many, rumours. Bae Joohyun who makes her juniors cry. Bae Joohyun; precious daughter of the most elusive mafia gang leader in all of Korea. Bae Joohyun; ice queen senior, sole roost-ruler of Hanyang University and the biggest bully you’ll ever meet.

Positively preposterous, empty claims with no evidence whatsoever to back them up… she hopes.

“Pft yeah okay she’s… mean, but she’s not like… jesus or anything she can’t… like… part the Red Sea or, turn water into vodka I don’t know,” Seungwan tries and fails at consoling herself, receiving nothing but an apologetic pat on the back from the girl beside her.

“Yeah well… she’s not the messiah but everyone treats her like it. And for the sake of your own neck, you’d better start too. Watch out, Wan-ah.”

Seungwan hadn’t paid any mind to those wet-eared freshmen whom she’d overheard during orientation gossiping about Joohyun and her charming little posse; but perhaps she should have.

She gulps, too afraid to think of anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan often fantasizes at work. There has to be some way to pass the time, after all.

Deep down she’s a sucker for romance, she knows it far too well; she envisions herself ten years down the line, letting whoever she has on the other end of the phone know that she’ll be home soon, that work has just been extra grueling today, and that she cannot wait to give them a cuddle. She’ll stir the dinner pot while she tells them stories, pausing in between to remind her lover how beautiful they are. Perhaps one day, the honour will be hers, to see her soulmate walking down the aisle.

But as the tinkling of the doorbell rings through her café, Seungwan files those cloudy fantasies for later and greets her first customers with a smile.

She hasn’t been sleeping very well, worrying her mind with ridiculous thoughts and impossible scenarios. All involving Joohyun as a tick-tocky alligator and herself as none other than Captain ‘I’m-actually-innocent-why-are-you-still-trying-to-eat-me’ Hook.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s five minutes to closing time. Seungwan suppresses the yawn in her chest and blinks away the moisture in her eyes. Just zero to sixty, five times in your head. You got this, Seungwan. Gosh, there’s no one in the café and hardly anyone outside. She briefly contemplates closing early.

“Small iced Americano.”

“Coming r – aii!! Ai…!”

Seungwan’s adrenaline spikes so high she could serve it ice cold in a coffee cup right now. Caught completely off guard, she begins stammering nonsense behind the till, crinkling the leather of her dark brown work apron and then using the hem of her polo shirt to wring clammy palms none the drier. All the while her customer stands there, brow quirked and card held out between slender fingers. Her expression, although slightly amused, threatens her to take her money, or else.

Before she can open her mouth, a buttery voice snaps her out of her trance.

“Hello, Seung – wan… hey, don’t we have Korean Literature together?”

Seungwan tries not to spontaneously combust on the job as she instinctively slaps a hand over her name tag. It’s useless though, it is now known. Known to her, of all people. The notorious Bae Joohyun; dressed in Acne jeans and an over-sized midnight Balenciaga cardigan, she looks like any other young, caffeine-dependent university student. But Seungwan knows a lot better.

Oh god save me… what the hell is she doing here!? This has to be a set up. She’s here for me. I’m going to die tonight. Mummy, daddy I love you.

“J-J-Juh…”

She can’t say it. All the years of schooling; learning the alphabet and how to enunciate your words drain out through the holes in her ears. She gawks dumbly, moving her head in what could be considered to be a nod.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you,” she doesn’t even bother trying to sound surprised, “I’m Joohyun.”

Don’t I know.

All Seungwan can do is nod again, hating herself for even breathing right now.

Joohyun clicks her tongue and fiddles with the card in her hand, impatient, “soooo… is this Americano free, or…?”

Yes, yes it’s free, please just take it and go! I’ll upgrade it to an extra-large if you want, on me! If it means I’m spared for the rest of my student life, take it all! Jesus, how did you even find me?!

“Ah, yes. Sorry! Uh, yes that’ll be um two fif – two… two thirty.”

There’s a shaky exchange of a debit card and a forgotten peace treaty iced Americano before Seungwan takes an unconscious shuffle back from the register, eyes glued to the smudge on the toe of her right sneaker, unable to meet Joohyun’s piercing gaze for too long.

“Thank you, Seungwan.”

The way she lingers on the ‘S’ whispers shivers down the girl’s spine. She glances up at the worst possible time, too, nearly jumping out of her mismatched Muji socks when she sees Joohyun’s hibiscus-tinted lips bloom into a coy smirk.

“I’ll see you around.”

And with what a shivering Seungwan could’ve sworn was a terrible attempt at a wink, Joohyun is gone. Clutching at her chest, she tries to slow her accelerated heartrate, praying she doesn’t need heart surgery after what she’s just been through.

Seulgi’s so hearing about this.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Daebak,” Sooyoung scoffs, side-eyeing Joohyun as she twiddles her pen.

“What else did you say?” Jennie presses, taking a sip of her chai latte.

Joohyun merely hums, disclosing no further details of her little cafe incident. She misses Jennie’s disbelieving grin when the walking, talking definition of awkward bumbles into the lecture hall, just on time, armful of texts and messy cinnamon locks matted to her face.

Sooyoung can’t resist a jest. “Joohyun, look. It’s idiocy on legs.”

Joohyun bites back a snort as her eyes follow the girl stumbling and murmuring apologies all the way to her seat. She slumps into the chair with burning cheeks, brushing her hair back with her fingers and fiddling with her gingerbread fringe. Too cute, Joohyun thinks, gritting her teeth.

It happens about mid-way in the class. The mention of pair work triggers the uniform eye-roll, groan and grumble combo, more so from the seniors, who sure as hell don’t want to be paired with icky, snot-nosed first-years who can barely lift their spoons to their mouths. The grumbling evaporates when it is stated that, although compulsory, it is not a fixed-paired assignment.

Seungwan breathes a sigh of relief along with a few others, content to set up camp in the aisles of the library, perfectly undisturbed. But she suddenly feels paler than chalk; flashbacks of heeled boots, midnight cardigans and heart surgery flooding into her veins once more when she catches a pair of stealthy pupils regarding her from across the room. A deceptively sweet smile sparkling on those dreaded lips, breath-taking and utterly petrifying all at once. Even from the other side of a bloody lecture theatre, Bae Joohyun has Seungwan sweating bullets and unconsciously fidgeting at her collar to release steam no one else can see.

About a minute away from hurling herself out the nearest window, Seungwan diverts her attention to her notebook at the last second. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan stabs her chopstick into the egg yolk, watching it dribble all over her rice. She’s jealous of her own best friend who doesn’t have to live every waking hour with a red sniper laser dot on her back.

Should’ve majored in art too, goddamnit, she curses, poking her lunch in a dazed stupor.

“Wan-ah!”

She scoffs at the familiarity, but Seulgi’s crescent moon grin makes Seungwan momentarily forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

The black cursive of Han Kang’s literature stares up at her as she tries to digest what she’s reading, but she swears her brain allocates the worst times for that sneaky Bae Joohyun to pop up like an unwanted advertisement. Seems like now, she’s going to have to sit through an entire trilogy.

Despite the crippling dread, Seungwan can’t help but wonder. They’re so silly, but she wonders them anyway. She feels free to let her mind wander in the safety of the university library.

Bae Joohyun; Seungwan’s mind is unchanged; she’s the most beautiful girl she’s laid eyes on. It’s a unique kind of beauty; mysteriously edgy, knife-like and femme fatale. The grin Joohyun gave her in class this morning, she knows she should be running from it, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it’s been playing in her head on repeat ever since.

Seungwan unintentionally imagines what it would be like to kiss that sunset-infused smirk right off her face.

Too bad she’s a mean one, she sighs.

She doesn’t get much further with the actual task at hand when her blood-pressure plummets; she watches leader of the killer senior pack, Bae Joohyun, artlessly sit down in the chair next to her. It’s like the world stops spinning for the second it takes their eyes to meet, and Seungwan quivers in her seat, thoughts of literature fleeing out the back of her brain.

Trying to be polite, she gives her a courteous nod and returns to her reading. But Joohyun just sits there, staring, peppering her body with smoking bullet holes – it frightens her in the weirdest way. She can’t help the tiny bubble of… excitement? At the fact that Hanyang’s notorious Bae Joohyun is sitting next to her. Probably to get close enough to kill her, of course, but she’d count her blessings, no matter how terrifying. The thread finally snaps, and Seungwan is able to channel her inner stone statue no more, wordlessly excusing herself and stumbling to the bathroom.

It’s empty and silent; exactly what she needs. She flicks some cool water over the burning in her cheeks and dabs at the heat welled in the corners of her eyes.

But just as she’s about to leave, Joohyun’s standing in the doorway; cloaked in all her intimidating aura and eclipsing her only exit.

“Bathroom break so soon?” Joohyun’s voice drips into her ears like melted honey as she observes a wry smile crawl onto her face, “we’ve barely gotten started. Let’s get back to work… partner.”

It’s kicking in only now what Joohyun is saying. And it takes everything Seungwan has to formulate a pathetic response.

“Oh right, a-about that,” she nervously chuckles, averting her gaze and scratching the back of her neck, “uh, I-I was just um… I don’t wanna drag anyone down with – you know because you’re a senior and all – was m-maybe thinking –”

She doesn’t get very far when Joohyun begins advancing, walking towards her with such sure, dominating strides Seungwan has no choice but to back away, the piercing squeaks of Adidas sneakers easily drowning out the clicking of Louboutin heeled boots. Joohyun sports that coy smirk the whole time she’s cornering poor Seungwan, further and further back, until…

A tiny yelp is torn from her as her back hits the wall. Seungwan strains up to meet her eyes, 5 inch boots are a very useful intimidation tool. Her heart feels about as fragile as sugar glass, and she thinks it would do her good to invest in those styrofoam packing peanuts and a roll of caution tape.  

Joohyun observes the little caramel-haired mouse girl she’s caught; pressed against the cool, beige tile, both hands out in front of her, quivering like a jello pile. She quickly notes the way the top of Seungwan’s head just about grazes the bottom of the wall-mounted paper towel dispenser, and it stretches her grin even further. She looks irresistible, those doe eyes the colour of warm cocoa. Who knew she had a thing for sweet faces, well-intentions and weak-hearts?

Realising her hands aren’t doing anything to keep the other girl at bay, Seungwan drops them like a tonne of bricks - she’s never felt so small and helpless in her life. The rich scent of vanilla and mint tickles her nose; Joohyun’s too close, and she really needs those fragile stickers to go over the thumping in her chest. But she also wants to nuzzle in closer to that intoxicating shampoo smell.

“P-please… I-I didn’t mean to…”

Her voice sounds so tiny and fragile, it tugs on Joohyun’s heartstrings.

“You know who I am?” she demands in somewhat of a growl, caging the smaller girl in with both arms pressed on either side of her head, causing her to gasp out, “you’ve heard?”

Seungwan shrinks a little more, petunias searing onto her milky cheeks at the proximity, but terror-stricken nonetheless. It’s burning, and it’s too much.

A small ‘mm’ and a teary nod is all she can offer.

Joohyun shoots her a challenging smirk, a kaleidoscope of obsidian pebbles flicker in her darkened eyes as she brings a single finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her so she’s forced to look up.

“And you still think you have a choice?”

Seungwan wishes she could rear up at the challenge, hammer some humility into that smug attitude in front of her; put Bae Joohyun in her place. But who is she to change the way the world works? Girls like Joohyun toy with what they want, and get what they toy with; the natural order of things Seungwan has no hope of re-routing. Her resolve, her dignity and everything she’s built up in her 20 years on earth crumbles at her feet; she doesn’t bother picking up the pieces.

With that, she looks up at the girl who still has her locked in with her eyes alone, and meekly shakes her head.

Seungwan can finally breathe when Joohyun detaches herself from the wall and runs both hands down the front of her blouse. She hears a chuckle and before she knows it, there’s an arm around her waist, moving them in tandem.

She doesn’t see the triumphant smile etched into Joohyun’s rosebud lips, like she’s swallowed a coat hanger. All she knows is that they’re now bound by this assignment, and that Joohyun is leaving with exactly what she came for.

Seungwan hides a shy grin of her own.

[gingrrfrog]

timeless [request]

request for @babymuff I made it...angsty on accident...and long...as hell...isdjfosidjf I hope u like it 🥺

Johnny: 14. you have no idea what you do to me + 24. I needed you! I needed you! 

word count: 2.4k oof 

At the end of the day, Johnny was your best friend. It would cause you more pain to let him go, so you stay by his side faithfully. Every break up, every miserable one night stand, you stayed by his side. Being hopelessly in love with him was one thing, but expecting the same amount of effort and love and care from a man who gave you a one worded hbd on your birthday was enough to become the laughing stock of the world. 

Your friends were tired of it too, specifically Doyoung as he was the one who stayed up with you late at night, listening to your sobs as John Seo played with your emotions once again. It was so easy to feel special to Johnny, the way he would play with your hair, the arm around your shoulder and the occasional “platonic” kiss on the forehead…it made you feel like you were flying. 

However, seeing the same affection and then some on the newest pick of the week would rip your high from under you, leading to another sobbing session into the strong chest of your friend Doyoung. 

“I’m getting sick of this, you know,” he said quietly, flattening the mess of your hair as Doyoung held you tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, pulling away. Doyoung was quick to pull you back into his embrace, patting your back as he shook his head. 

“Not of you. Of Johnny doing this to you. I’m also tired of seeing you get hurt,” Doyoung spoke gently, as if the words he was about to say next would break you. “You need to let go, y/n. It’s time to let go.” 

The idea in itself was enough to make your stomach churn. You shook your head and told him that it wasn’t bad most of the time, causing Doyoung to shake his head. 

“You telling me that is telling me you’re okay with being treated like anything less than perfect. You’re such a good person and you’re going to let Johnny treat you like you’re not because you love him?” Doyoung scoffed. He took your face in his hands, holding it tightly as he stared into your eyes, “he doesn’t love you. And if he didn’t it’s not the same way you love him.” 

Doyoung wiped the tears that fell over your cheeks with his thumbs as you sobbed. You knew he had a point, which the next day even harder. 

You had promised Johnny that you were going out for breakfast for him the day before and you kept it, despite your friend telling you to stay behind. You knew that this was going to be a short ordeal, as you wanted to get this over with the same way as ripping a bandaid. You asked Doyoung to stay, as you also knew that this was going to break you the second you left. He agreed, even calling Mark to keep him company as the two would help you through it. 

So now here you sat, in front of Johnny as he looked through his phone, a smile on his lips with the straw of his coffee in between his teeth, sucking mindlessly as you watched the coffee disappear from the glass. You had barely eaten off your plate, and you don’t think you were planning to do so anytime soon. 

“What do you think about her?” He asked you quickly, lifting up his phone to show you his newest interests instagram page. She was beautiful, much too beautiful for you to have any real opinion on her. 

If Doyoung were here, he would tell Johnny she was out of his league. It would come out as a joke, but you knew he meant it deep down. 

“She’s pretty,” you mumbled, a smile on your lips as you pushed the food away from you. 

Johnny raised an eyebrow and looked at your food, tilting his head to the side, “aren’t you eating?” 

“I’m not too hungry, I ate something quick this morning on accident,” you lied, watching Johnny shrugged as he picked off your plate. 

“That’s fine! We’ll eat tons on our trip anyway!” Johnny said with a bright smile, “I have a lot planned and—“ 

“Actually, I don’t…think I can go on our trip,” you could already feel the lump in your throat. You watched as Johnny’s smile fell. He blinked and put his phone down, the coffee straw out of his mouth. 

“Oh. Why…not?” 

“Something came up with work. I’ve been promoted,” it wasn’t a lie. You were waiting to tell him on the trip as you received some vacation time as a reward. “I’m actually going to be really busy with my new position for the next few days. I’m really sorry, Johnny.” 

You watched his Adam’s apple bob before he gave a smile, “it’s no problem! Congratulations! I told you all your hard work would be worth it in the end!” 

Johnny continued to talk mindlessly as you listened, nodding your head here and there as you tried to settle with the idea that this would be the last time you would be seeing him for a very long time. Perhaps even the last, if you were strong enough. 

Johnny paid for the meal as a treat for your promotion, yet again throwing his arm over your shoulder as he pulled you close, his cologne making you dizzy. 

“I am pretty bummed that you’re not able to come on our trip. That makes it a sausage party now,” Johnny sighed, grimacing.

 “Maybe we can plan for a different time. Once I’ve gotten used to my new position.” 

Johnny smiled and pulled you closer, “of course! Sometimes I think I have you so spoiled, you have no idea what you do to me.”

And you to me, you thought to yourself, waving at Johnny as you went your separate ways. 

The second you pulled away from his warmth, from his sweet cologne, tears filled your eyes as you sobbed quietly on the bus home. You slam your door shut when you get home, watching Mark peer his wide eyes from around the corner, taking you into his arms as you felt Doyoung not far behind. 

“It’ll all work out in the end,” Mark said gently. 

“You deserve more than this, you know that.” Doyoung reminded. 

Despite the kind words from your friends, you found it difficult to believe. 

It took a lot of work. You blocked Johnny’s social media posts both on instagram and twitter, you denied his requests to hang out after he came back from his trip, and gradually allowed the messages to end. Perhaps what hurt the most was Johnny’s birthday, your phone turned off to refrain from sending any elaborate text messages that would leave you on read. 

It had been two months since then, spring pushing it way through the cold days as you were greeted with rain almost every day. Your new position in work was thankfully keeping you away from overthinking every minuet occurrence, finding peace in your work as your superiors applauded your hard work. 

On another raining day, you walked out of your company, umbrella in tow as you struggled to open it, cursing before you ultimately decided to throw it in the trash, huffing as you looked around in confusion when the rain stopped pelting your hair. You swallowed when you saw Johnny in front of you, a small, tired smile on his lips as you blinked at the taller man. 

“Oh,” you blinked, “hi.” 

“Hey,” he replied, “you cut your hair?” 

Your hand went up to touch it instinctively, almost as if you had forgotten you had done so. You nodded, your hand falling back to your side, “yeah. I did.”

“It looks nice,” he complimented. You pressed your lips together, looking at the ground before you cleared your throat. 

“Thank you. I should…really get going.”

“Let me walk you home. You don’t have an umbrella.” 

You shook your head, “the rain won’t hurt me. I also don’t want to take you away from whatever you were doing.” 

“I came here to see you,” he said quickly. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you saw Johnny look around bashfully, a foreign action as Johnny was never the one to feel embarrassed.

“I miss you,” he admitted. “I wanted to talk…with you. To you. Whatever.” 

“I don’t think that’s—“

“Please?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, taking a deep breath. When you opened them again, Johnny was looking at you with the same tired eyes from earlier. You hated feeling so weak in front of him. 

“Sure.”

Despite Johnny wanting to talk, he barely did any talking. The entire walk back to your apartment was full of long pauses and loud silence, the tension between the two of your clear and thick enough to cut with a blade. Finally making it to your apartment, you stood at the door, looking at your former best friend as you watched his eyes swim with doubt. You wanted to leave before he said anything, but he was always so much better at reading you than you were with him. 

“Why’d you ghost me?” A sad laugh escaped his lips, humor missing. 

You bit your lip, “people…outgrow each other. Don’t they? Isn’t it human nature?” 

Johnny shook his head, “it’s human nature to outgrow over a period of years. Not in three months.” 

“Some people are different.” 

“You’re not some people,” he said quickly. “You were never like that.” 

“The same way people outgrow each other is the same way people also change, Johnny,” you quickly defended. 

“You didn’t change. I can see that you’re still the same person, just without me in your life.” 

You sighed, looking at your watch, “is there something else you need? I have something else to attend to.” 

“Like what?” 

You racked in your brain for an excuse, “I have a date. Tonight. With a man.” 

“Yeah, right. Who?” 

“Jaehyun.” 

“Jaehyun?” He scoffed, “now you’re just mocking me.” 

“What do you want, Johnny? I had a long day at work, I just want to go home and sleep.” 

“I want you to be my friend again.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your heel towards your door, “goodbye.” 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay?! Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!” He said, throwing the umbrella to the side to grab your arm with both hands. 

“How can you apologize for something you didn’t even know you did?” You seethed, “that is so selfish, so full of yourself.” 

“Then tell me what I did!” Johnny begged, forcing his hand through to thread his fingers with yours. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know I don’t know what I did but I’ll fix it, I’ll fix anything you want.” 

You looked at the ground, hiding the wells behind your eyes before Johnny pulled you face up to look at him. He gave you a smile, one that looked like he hoped it would work, “just say the word, okay? And…and we can put this whole nightmare behind us. We can go back to being best friends, partners in crime, back to being the other’s better half. That sounds fun, right? Right?” 

You shook your head, pressing your hand on his chest as you weakly pushed him away, “I can’t. I want to go home.” 

“You…you can’t leave me.” Johnny panicked. The rain started up again, heavier than before as it soaked through his hair. “We need each other…I need you. You mean everything to me, you're my best friend. My only real friend.” 

 “Get off of me,” you cried, pushing him away harder this time. You couldn’t stand hearing being his friend anymore. 

“But—“ 

“have you ever, just once, thought about how much I needed you?” You asked, your eyes narrowing as you did nothing to stop the tears from flowing. With the help of the rain soaking through your neatly done hair, you needed not worry about looking weak. “My stupid fucking love for you aside, you never once cared for me the same I cared about you our entire lives! I have been here, by your side like a stupid sick puppy hoping that you would pick me! Pick me to be your one, pick me to put your effort into. But instead, I had to watch you send roses to girls who didn’t even remember your last name while I get late birthday texts two days after my actual birthday.” 

You took a deep breath, glaring at the man in front of you who stood frozen at your sudden confession and release of built up anger, “you. John Seo, are the most selfish, self-centered, egotistical man I have ever met, and I stayed. I stayed because I thought you would get over it, I stayed because I thought you would grow out of it but—fuck!—we’re almost fucking thirty Johnny and you can’t get the stupid frat brother mentality out of your brain enough to see what the fuck is around you!” 

“Maybe I’m the one being selfish for not telling you why I left, maybe I’m the idiot for expecting you to change and maybe I’m being overdramatic but at least these are things that I feel for myself instead of feeling everything for you!” 

“I needed you, Johnny,” you sobbed, punching his chest as you shoved him away from the front door of your apartment. “I needed you to be my rock too.” 

You cried and cried as he tried to take your hand again, fingers intertwining, “I’m sorry—“ 

You shook your head, snatching your hand away from his, “I said I needed. Past tense. I don’t need you anymore.” 

“I can fix it, I swear-“

“No more, Johnny,” you sniffled. “No more. What I need from you now is to leave me alone. Stay far away from me, don’t talk to my friends, don’t talk to my parents. Don’t leave me birthday messages…just leave. Leave me alone. Forget I existed.” 

Johnny’s eyes scanned frantically across your face. You took a deep breath to calm down, “it’s over. Thanks…for whatever this was. But it won’t go back.”

You bit your lip, watching him for a response before you turned back around. You pulled the door to the entrance of your apartment building when you heard your name called behind you. You paused, but you didn’t turn around. 

“What if—“ Johnny took a shaky deep breath, “what if I said that I love you? That I love you so much that it scared me? And that I can’t afford to lose you.” 

Your hands trembled but you still shook your head, “I’d say it’s too late. It’s time to move on.” 

[blahblahwritings]

Lost and Found.

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get round to this request I’ve had a manic week with hand-ins and work but it’s finished, I hope your like it!

Words: 2390

Warnings: Mentions of dead family members. A curse word here and there.

This was a stupid idea. Going to a flashy party in a flashy building hosted by a flashy company was one of the top activities you tried to avoid. You knew that your shitty minimum wage desk job and even shittier selection of dresses in your closet would make you not just feel but look out of place the moment you walked in. But, being a good friend, you caved when Emma had asked you for the tenth time to go with her, insisting that her friends and colleagues wouldn’t judge, but, coming from a group home, you knew better.

You weren’t a stranger to people thinking they’re better than you, or their fake sympathy when they found out your story, not that you were embarrassed by it. In fact, you had taken pride in it knowing that some of the shit you’d struggled through helped make you a better person. Not that they would care, they never needed a personality because they had the blessing of money and notoriety. Anyway, here you were, in your black dress and heels, a little bit of make-up you were sure had smudged on the car ride here and just enough alcohol in your system to make the night bearable.

Just looking at the exterior of the building made you want to throw-up, then again that could partially be the cheap wine you’d drank. The floodlights in the front shone beams of gold up the brilliant white bricks and the plants surrounding the door worth probably more than your apartment brought a pop of colour to the entrance. Emma finished paying the cab driver and stepped out beside you.

“Come on, it's not that bad. Let’s get inside.” She laughed, noticing your hesitation. Her hair sat in a perfect updo and her dress swayed elegantly as she waltzed forwards. Her whole look matched; the clips in her hair, the colour of her and her shoes, even the clutch she held presented her as a magnificently finished puzzle. You looked like a bag of trash next to her. Her hand gently tugged at your arm and with a deep breath, you made your way in.

The lobby was almost empty, save for a few well-dressed men and who you assumed were their dates chatting languidly by the front desk. Emma’s heels clacked loudly against the marble floors, your own in tow as she threw a friendly wave towards the receptionist before you reached the elevator. Your nerves picked up at the thought of being in a crowded room full of professionals talking business with fine champagnes and little finger sandwiches and stupidly fancy tables for it all to sit on. God, you needed to snap out of it. You’re complaining about the tables.

The doors opened and you stepped in, greeted by your reflection in the walls of the lift. At least your make-up hadn’t smudged. Emma turned to you and gave you a look.

“What?” You asked, eyes darting back at your reflection then back at her.

“Stop worrying so much, you look cute I promise.” She reassured, it kind of helped. Kind of.

A ding, the roll of the doors and suddenly the party was revealed. It didn’t seem the worst, you might even enjoy it. There were large round tables clothed in white fabrics with bottles of expensive champagne on ice standing in the center, large spreads of food were laid out towards the edges of the space as people picked and grazed. It was huge, far bigger than you were expecting and well furnished. The air was filled with laughter and polite conversation, a live jazz band performed on a stage with a sizable dancefloor. Thankfully, there was a well stocked bar for those who didn’t have the aquired taste of champagne and you’d have made a bee-line for it, had Emma not let out a squeal of excitement as a woman with long dark hair and a royal blue evening gown approached, gold jewellery shining in a beautiful contrast.

“Oh my god, hi! How are you? Isn’t this lovely?” She drawled, voice clear and sophisticated.

Emma let out a small chuckle, “I’m good and it’s gorgeous, where are you all sat?” she replied wtih a tilt of her head. The lady gestured vaguely to the left where a table of women gave over-enthusiastic smiles and waves as we peered over.

The three of us wandered through over and joined them. Your heart was in your throat as you tucked yourself in, eyes flitting between the champagne in the middle and the bar, debating fleeing in search of a better tranquiliser for the night.

“Emma, who’s your friend? I don’t believe we’ve met her before.” Another lady with a short blonde bob spoke. You moved to introduce yourself but Emma jumped in. “This is Y/N, she’s one of my closest friends and the nicest person I know, isn’t her dress cute?” The prompt led the girls to all ooh and aah at your outfit as you faked a tight smile and thanked them, shooting Emma a pointed glare which she returned with an apologetic wince. “So! Has Billy arrived yet?” She giggled taking the spotlight off you and you visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping forward, a chuckle escaped you as you shook your head recognising the name. She talked about him often enough, specifically his ‘perfectly styled hair’ and ‘eyes you could just drown in’.

“Unfortunately no, we do have a distinct lack of eye candy at this party.” The blue lady from earlier sighed exaggeratedly, sending them all into another round of giggles. Had you any self control you’d have hidden the grimace that crossed your face. You weren’t overly fond of talking about people in such a way. A waiter came to your table, asking if there was anything he could get, be it food or drink. They requested a second bottle of champagne and as he turned, you gently caught his arm.

“I’d like a whiskey, a double on ice if that's alright.” You tried and he nodded. “Of course, would you like a mixer with that, miss?” He questioned and you shook your head. He quirked an eyebrow at this and shot you an amused smile probably knowing you disliked this ordeal as much as he did. Turning back to the table you engaged in their chatter until you could quietly sip your drink.

Across the room, a tall man in a black tux entered, his hair slicked back and a freshly shaved stubble lining his jaw. He was greeted by a few other party-goers, laughing and complimenting the festivities. Typical, tedious small talk always appeased the businessmen and women. Billy took pride in his work, but that didn’t mean he had to like the sleazy old men in his clientele. He was partially listening to the dramatic but fake story one of the men always told at parties to impress the women as he sipped his drink until someone caught his eye. You. He recognised your face almost immediately but couldn’t be entirely sure for the crowd. Excusing himself from the conversation, he moved with the grace of a cat, eyes never leaving you, sat at the table with a glass of something dark in your hand.

Memories of the group home came flooding back to him, of your laugh and smile, that echoed only feet away from him. He remembered the nights spent talking for hours on the floor of your room about your ambitions and how you were both gonna ditch the place for good. Flashes of you crying, upset at one of the other kids because they said something that hit a little too close to home for you, cuddled into his side as he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head. His whole world fell apart the day you went your separate ways. He needed you just as much as you needed him if not more because you were there in the early hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep, when he had lost all his cockiness and his wit, coming to you with nothing but glassy eyes and vulnerability.

He continued to stare, unsure of what to do as everything moved in slow motion. It was new to him, this experience of being stuck for a plan, but, he was interrupted as another man came over, a little more drunk than he should’ve been, cheering at Billy. He lost sight of you, just for a moment he took his eyes off you and he pushed past the drunken businessman and into the crowd to get to you. A few people made noises of complaint, quickly hushing as they recognised him.

He appeared by your table, leaving the crowd behind and just gaping at you. He couldn’t believe you were here, and looking like you did? Your eyes perfectly framed by your eyeliner, your dress hugging all the right places and your heels highlighting the shape of your legs? All that ran through his head were words of praise.

Emma stood suddenly from the table, approaching Billy and you watched curious as to where she was going until your eyes landed on him. “Y/N, this is Billy, my boss, he's the host of the party.” She explained. A cheshire grin painting itself on her features. You stood, taking a step towards him and offering your hand. He glanced down at it and his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. Didn’t you recognise him? He took your hand and shook it once, forgetting to take his back. You had to admit, he was incredibly handsome, but there was something about him that you couldn’t quite shake.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir.” You offered a genuine smile, looking into his almost black eyes. He gave a tight smile back, a pang of disappointment shooting through his chest. His hand still held yours and some of the girls giggled amongst themselves. “Uh..” You began awkwardly before an important looking man requested Billy to follow him. His eyes flickered down to your hands and he quickly recoiled, a light flush dusting his cheeks as he leant closer to you so only you could hear him. A whisper of a few words left you dumbfounded.

You sat back down, staring through the table. Those words. They triggered something in your brain, flipped a switch. Billy… Billy Russo from the group home. Your mind began racing with the memories of him.

You sobbed, body shaking and hot tears trailing down your cheeks. Billy’s hands moved to cup your jaw, thumbs wiping away the salty droplets. You pressed your head into his palm, the warmth soothing you. You’d just confided in him, told him everything about your past, your parent’s death, your uncle’s suicide all of it. He was the first person you’d opened up to who didn’t just leave. His eyes held a deep sadness but they were also full of love for you. He brought your head into his chest, letting you bury yourself in his hoodie, the sound of your sniffles and heavy breathing muffled by the soft material. Looking up at him, you wiped your face with the sleeve of your shirt and laughed at the wet patches you’d left on his own. He gently pulled your chin up to look him in the eye and said;

“And here you are living, despite it all.”

It hit you like a brick wall and you stood so swiftly that your chair fell backwards behind you. Not bothering to explain yourself you charged through the crowd in the same direction he disappeared in, shrugging off the obvious sounds of disgust at your rudeness. Your eyes raked through the ocean of people, the sounds of obnoxious laughing, energetic jazz and the exaggerated old men’s stories filled your ears becoming unbearable. You span, frantic to find him and explain yourself as you replayed the memory over and over in your head. Bodies bumped and clashed with your own pushing you around until you collided with a firm chest. Spinning on your heel you looked at who you’d hit.

Your eyes met and you couldn’t look away. It was him, standing tall and looking at you with that signature grin. You let out a laugh in sheer disbelief before wrapping your arms around his neck. He quickly returned the embrace, nuzzling into your hair and glad you’d remembered him even if it took those words to jog your memory. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to forget that place.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise, I tried looking everywhere for you after we were separated but I-” You rambled over his shoulder as he softly pushed you back just enough for you to look at him. “Maybe you didn’t look quite hard enough?” He suggested, cocking an eyebrow in jest. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, laughing as you slapped his chest lightly. You looked back up at him, turning serious. “I mean it, Billy, I tried everything and it led nowhe-” You were cut off by him shushing you quietly. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You instinctively leant into his hand, feeling at ease in his presence again. Tears threatened to spill but he pulled you into a tight hug again before they could.

The music faded into something a little softer, and he threaded his fingers into yours tugging you towards the dancefloor. You snorted, rather unladylike, but he just turned back and laughed. “Good to know that hasn’t changed.”

Pulling you closer, his hands moved to just above your hips, ever the gentleman, and started to sway you both to the music. He smirked noticing the blush on your cheeks and you shook your head looking down with a giggle. Who would’ve thought you’d find each other again all these years later? Leading two entirely different lives despite such a similar beginning. He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving them there for a moment before you looked up at him again. You sighed, content and lay your head against his chest, closing your eyes and taking in the moment, relishing in the fact you had him back. Only this time, you didn’t plan on letting him go.

[deathsficbin]

Here I come sliding into home base on my ass as per usual. This one is different from my usual list of fics and not only because it's not even Star Wars. This one was written for the RvB Valentine's Exchange hosted by @rvbgiftexchange My exchange partner requested something with not only a less popular character but their OC too which is something I've never done before. I'm a stickler for getting everything "right" so having to ask questions and occasionally just go with my gut was hard. But it was a really nice challenge and I really enjoyed stepping out of my comfort zone to get this one done. Hope it's what you were looking for @nyx-the-dreamer  

Fandom: Red vs. Blue

Rated: T

He sits quietly, dangling his legs off the side of roof. The sun is warm, he can feel it's heat even through the exposed bits of his bodyglove. He's on watch. What for he doesn't really know but it's loads better than being stuck in the basement listening to Sarge yell at Griff and Simmons. Or in the main room listening to Tucker walk Caboose through the rules for go fish again. Or in the control room listening to Donut spew worse entendres than Cronut ever had. Of the two, Donut is definitely the worst.

He still can't believe he's living under the same roof with these idiots. The time machine ordeal had been... messy. A few confusing months of distorted timelines, all spent in a dark prison cell somewhere on Chorus. Eventually things smoothed out and news that the Reds and Blues and saved the day once again trickled down to his personal hell. Then the bastards had showed up out of nowhere, Carson in tow demanding he be remanded to their care. He still doesn't know why. And frankly he still doesn't like any of them but Carson seems to get along with them and the food is a thousand times better so he followed along and puts up with his new "team".

"Hey."

Speaking of...

He turns to see the familiar form of his actual teammate crawling up onto the roof. Carson has always been a bit of an enigma too him. Kind, smart, and loyal to a fault. At first he had been just another teammate. Another means to the ultimate end of revenge against the freelancers and the UNSC. Now? Now he's a friend. The first he's had since... well, the first in a very long time.

"Hey." He answers. Carson sits next him, back propped against the wall and one knee cocked up while his other leg swings loose. He squints slightly, the afternoon sun shines directly against his face, casting shadows over his scarred eye. He's not sure what the scar is from. Carson doesn't talk much about his past, nor where he came from. He suspects it is the result of some childhood fight with an unfortunately armed opponent, or perhaps an animal attack. The eye itself works. Advanced cybernetics can be thanked for that but the scar is too old and too deep to be repaired. The skin would have to be dug out, replaced and grafted completely to get rid of the gouges and that simply takes too much time and money for the UNSC to afford. And at this point, the scar is a part of him. For better or for worse.

"Watcha doing?" He asks. Temple shrugs.

"Avoiding Sarge." He says. That much is the truth. He's not really keeping watch. Nothing to watch for anyway. Unless one wants to know where Tucker sneaks off too when he thinks no one is watching.

"Better stay out of the basement then. He's got Simmons and Caboose scrubbing the floor." Carson says. He snorts. Sometimes he wonders how these idiots have ever managed to survive much less actually save the whole of humanity.

"What're you up too?" He asks. He's trying. Griff and Tucker had, unfortunately made a good point months ago when they asked him what friends he actually had. At the time the answer had been none. Now, he's trying his best to be able to say he has at least one.

"Just got off Wash duty." Carson says, picking casually at his armor.

"How's he?" He asks. He doesn't really care. Agent Washington is still a freelancer. Still the enemy. He and Carolina both. But Washington is rather... different since they last met. Brain damage caused by cerebral hypoxia has made him almost childish in nature. Someone has to watch him at all times or else he'll get himself into rather avoidable situations. Temple is not allowed too watch him. Tucker and Carolina nearly shot him point blank when someone suggested it so he's been taken off the rotation. And while he's found he's no longer happy to see the freelancer's hurt, at the same time he doesn't particularly care. But everyone else does. And he's gotten good at pretending. Maybe someday he'll be able to trick himself into caring.

"He's managing to stay on one subject." Carson says. "Talks about cats. A lot. Like, fixates on cats. Which is good. That means he can string together thoughts but the fixation can be weird sometimes." 

Carson is rambling now. He didn't really want to know all of this but it matters to him so he's trying to listen. Trying to care. It's not going so well. He doesn't really know what to say so he tries for something in between caring and not interested.

"Yeah?" Apparently it's the right thing to say. Carson nods enthusiastically and waves his arms around wildly.

"Yeah. Yesterday it was bullets. He's more confused when when its things like that. I think they remind him too much of the injury." He says. Temple shrugs. Bullets. Brain damage. Washington. He's alive. He should be grateful he and Carolina managed to escape his decidedly genius trap months ago. But no. That's not right. He was in the wrong. Or at least he knows he should think that. He's not sure what he thinks anymore. Thoughts about the freelancers give him a headache and he can't make himself manage more than a shrug.

"But enough about Wash. Let's talk about something else." Carson says. Temple bites back a chuckle.

"Am I that obvious?" He asks. Carson grins. It's a nice smile. Not something he gets to see everyday and he really does enjoy the times he does get to see it.

"You're allowed to not like people. You're just not allowed to try and kill them." He warns. It was meant to be funny. He knows that much but he can't bring himself to do more than smile at it. Carson frowns.

"You ok?" He asks. Temple shrugs.

"I just- I don't know. We live on a base with our enemies. These guys tried to kill us and now we're all baking cookies together and babysitting their pet freelancer like one big happy family. How are you not fucking terrified right now?" He hadn't really meant to say all of that. Carson didn't need to know or deal with his insecurities but now that its out he's curious what his teammate thinks about their situation. Carson snorts and shifts. His forest green armor catches the sunlight.

"Well, compared to the twice a year family get-togethers I've been dodging, living with these guys is pretty damn tame." He says. He shifts again and scratches at his forearm. He does that sometimes, seemingly without thought. Possibly he has  an old injury that just aches sometimes. Or possibly tennis elbow from constantly pushing Donut away from the oven before he burns the entire base down.

"Besides. I'm here. So it's not all bad. Right?" He says. Temple shrugs. Yeah. He would still be in a jail cell if not for him, and at least with him around there is a familiar and kind face. At least he has a friend.

"Yeah. Not so bad I guess." He teases. Carson laughs.

"Oh is that all." He says. Temple turns to snap back but halts at the sight. Carson's face is red, an embarrassed flush standing out against his normally pale face. It not was He was expecting and suddenly he wonders if he's missed something. The smiles, undeserved loyalty, and never-ending kindness.

"Are you...? Are you making a pass at me?" He asks. The realization is sudden and jarring. How long has that been happening? Was this recent? Or had this always been the norm? Carson smiles. From below comes an annoyed snort. Temple looks down, unsurprised to see Tucker standing below them. He's leaning against the wall, either getting a breather from being inside with the others or deliberately eavesdropping. Likely both.

"Mind your buisness Tucker." He snaps. The cyan soldier looks up. His helmet is on but Temple can imagine the smirk.

"No way dude. I'm invested. He's only been doing it since for-freaking-ever ago." He snaps. Ok. Ok. So its been happening for a while than. A loose piece of debris flies across his field of vision, smacking against the Blue's head and bouncing to the ground.

"Shut up Tucker." Carson shouts. Tucker grumbles something, too quiet to hear but he turns and steps inside, the door shutting behind him. It's quiet again, the late afternoon sun shines brightly on its way down. Temple doesn't really know what to say at this point so he heaves a deep breath and peers at his companion.

"So...?" He asks. Technically Carson never replied. Never confirmed nor denied so technically he's the one that is supposed to speak next. Instead, his teammate stands, brushes himself off and shoots him a grin.

"Think about it. We'll get there." He says. He doesn't wait for a reply, turning and walking off to the doorway. It shuts behind him and Temple is left by himself.

He sits quietly, dangling his legs off the side of the roof. The sun is sinking low, it's warm touch fading, he can feel the cool air of evening even as his bodyglove's temperature regulation kicks in. He's on watch though he probably should have traded out long ago. What he's watching for he doesn't really know but it doesn't really matter either. It's loads better than being stuck in the main room listening to Tucker tease him about his years of blindness. Or in the basement listening to Griff and Simmons snigger at him. Or, worst of all, in the control room listening to Donut spew horrible entendres than he'll never be able to forget.

No. It's better out here. Out here he can think. He can watch. He can wait.

And out here, he can smile. 

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Oh my, I need to know what is going to happen with Niko and Kev after Kev panicked

Winter spends the night picking the pieces and gluing Niko back together again. They wipe the tears from his face and convince him to stay right where he is until they come back. They’re only gone ten minutes but it feels like ten years so Niko buries himself in a nest of Winter’s sheets. When they make it back upstairs with a shit ton of food, their chest aches bc look at him! He looks like a literal child hiding from his father. That’s when they send the text message to Kevin. It’s not that they mind Niko staying over, they’re just so upset bc he’s in so much pain. Platonic cuddles ensue bc neither of them have confessed yet.

Kevin is crying as he curls up in Aaron’s arms. Amalia is still very angry at her father but he’s crying now so she sits with him too. None of them really know what to do. Niko doesn’t know about his biological parents yet and neither of them are keen on telling him just yet. Instead, Aaron holds Kevin until his tears run dry and tucks him into bed. Amalia decides she’s going to spend the night in her dads’ room so she gets tucked in beside him. 

As soon as Aaron leaves the room, Kevin calls Niko. It goes straight to voicemail. Kevin curls up around his daughter and tries not to cry again. 

Aaron calls too and, right before it can go to voicemail, Niko picks up. 

“Niko.” His name came out in a breath Aaron hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

“Dad.” The crack in Niko’s voice shatters Aaron’s heart. He’s never heard Niko sound so hurt. 

“I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you get some sleep, alright?” Aaron couldn’t see him but he knew Niko was nodding. Sometimes, when things hurt too much, Niko had the tendency to shut down. His brain stopped functioning and he forgot how to speak. Selective mutism was something that often accompanied anxiety but, with his new medication, Niko’s episodes were getting fewer and farther between. Aaron worried his bottom lip between his teeth. How far back is this going to set him? It didn’t matter. They’d figure it out. They always did. “Can I talk to Winter?”

“Sir?” Winter’s voice was softer than freshly fallen snow. 

“How’s he doing?”

“He hasn’t spoken since he got here. Ko, had to write down what happened.” Aaron cursed. “I’ll bring him home tomorrow morning. How’s your husband?” Winter’s voice went tight. Unlike Aaron, whose anger raged like a fire, there was something frigid about Winter’s anger that sent chills down his spine. 

“Kevin feels terrible.”

“He should.” And the line went dead. Winters in Washington were harsh and unforgiving. Winter Aziz was no different. Aaron slipped his phone into his pocket and scrubbed a hand over his face. Tomorrow morning was going to be Hell. Cracking the bedroom door open, he slid in and got changed in the closet. He tossed his phone onto the nightstand before climbing into bed. Kevin’s arm wrapped instinctively around him and Amalia scooched closer in her sleep. It wasn’t long before sleep dragged Aaron’s eyes shut, leaving all his problems for the morning. 

Sleep didn’t come quite so easily to Niko. Trapped in the confines of his mind, he struggled to explain to Winter why everything hurt so much. It didn’t seem to matter though. Winter knew everything there was to know about him. They knew that the sting of Kevin’s slap was nothing compared to the complete and utter betrayal of Niko’s trust. In the background, an old bollywood movie was playing but neither Niko paid it no attention. Instead, he found himself quite content to stare at Winter. Reaching a careful hand out, he buried it into the messy mop of curls atop their head. They turned to look at him then. 

“Pretty,” he managed to struggle out. A flush of color crept up Winter’s necks and their cheeks went pink. Every time Niko began to think Winter was as beautiful as they could get, they went and proved him wrong. Niko let his hand fall out of their hair and trail down their cheek.

“Niko,” Winter said, a note of warning in their voice. He let his hand fall away entirely. He watched in silence as they stood and drifted around the room, getting ready for bed. They’d already dragged him out of bed to brush his teeth and sat him down on a stool in the tub to give him a very quick bath. That had been a rather interesting ordeal. 

Winter had commanded Niko to strip down to his boxers and sit down on the stool. As always, Niko did what he was told. He’d watched as Winter rolled up their sleeves and stripped down to their own boxers before stepping in behind him. With gentle hands, they’d washed his hair and scrubbed his body. A little soap had fallen onto Winter’s nose, something that had only become apparent to Niko as they’d shifted to stand in front of him. Immediately, he found himself filled with the urge to kiss it off. Without thinking, he’d caught their face in his hand and drew them close. It was only at the last second that he realized what he was doing and managed to change his motion from a kiss to blowing the bubbles off their face. Winter’s laughter had filled the bathroom as they swiped the last of the soap off their face. They’d helped Niko out before handing him a towel and some clothes and sending him on his way. 

Laying in bed, Niko wondered if there’d ever be a time when he wouldn’t want to kiss Winter. He highly doubted that. Maybe one day he’d grow the balls to actually do it. The lights clicked off but the moonlight streaming through the open window illuminated Winter’s form. Some days, Niko truly believed that they had been crafted from the mantle of one of the moon’s craters and given life by the light of its rays. There was something so otherworldly and ethereal about Winter that he could think of no other explanation. He’d told them as much once and they’d laughed. 

“No moon could shine without the light of their sun,” Winter had replied. 

“Who’s your sun?” Niko had asked. Winter hadn’t said anything, opting instead to brush one of Niko’s stray curls from his face. Oh. Niko’s face burned brighter than any star at the implication. 

There were times when Niko let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, Winter might like him. It was a stupid thought to have and Niko knew it couldn’t be true but... it was just such a nice thought. A future with Winter was nothing more than a daydream, a reverie with which Niko had spent so many endless hours envisioning that it might have been enough to constitute a lifetime on its own. 

Niko rolled over onto his side to give Winter space on the bed. If he dared to lay facing them, there’d be no chance of him getting any sleep at all. On more than one occasion, Niko had wasted the whole night studying the soft curves of Winter’s face. The bed shifted slightly beneath Winter’s slight weight. An arm came, wrapping around his torso and drawing him in. Niko’s heart nearly stopped when Winter laced their hand through his and pressed it to his chest. 

“Goodnight, Nikoshi,” they mumbled into the back of his neck. It took every ounce of his will to control the full-body shudder the heat of their breath elicited. There really would be no sleep tonight for him, would there? 

Amalia woke first. Normally she’d be content to lay there between her dads but today was Saturday and on Saturdays, she watched Fish Hooks with Niko. She scrambled out of bed, careful not to hit either of her dads on her way out. She padded across the hall to his room. The door was wide open and Niko was nowhere to be found. Her chest tightened as she tiptoes downstairs. The living room and kitchen were empty too. 

The door alarm chimed and Amalia rushed to the foyer in time to see Winter step in with Niko not far behind. Amalia raced up to her brother and flung her arms around him. 

“Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go,” she chanted. 

“Where?” Niko asked. 

“We’re going to miss Fish Hooks,” Amalia whined as she tugged him towards the living room. A look passed between Niko and Winter. “You’re Imzadi can come too,” Amalia said. Niko made a strangled noise as he looked at her in horror. 

“What’s an Imzadi?” Winter asked, shutting the front door. 

“Friend,” Niko replied quickly. Amalia grinned up at her brother, content to watch him squirm. She took his hand and led him to the living room, Winter trailing behind. The three of them sat down on the couches and watched tv until they heard the familiar shuffling of their father on the steps. Niko went rigid and the memories of the day before flooded her mind. 

Kevin stopped short at the sight of Niko on the couch. Having Niko home was like having a thousand-pound weight taken off his chest but the glare Niko gave him now seemed to weigh even more. 

“Can we... talk?” Kevin asked quietly. He watched as Winter tightened their grip on Niko’s arm but he shook it off as he stood. Kevin followed silently after Niko as they headed for the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of his mouth. Niko looked unimpressed. “I’m going to show you something and you can not tell Amalia. She’ll find out in her own time.” With those words, Kevin tugged his shirt off to reveal the mess of scars that ran along his torso. He heard Niko curse under his breath. 

“How-”

“Who,” Kevin corrected. “When I was very young, my mother died and I was sent to live with a friend of hers. Tetsuji Moriyama was not kind to me but his nephew was. Riko was like a brother to me and the only family I’d ever known. There’s a lot of things about the Moriyamas that I need to tell you but now is not the time. Neil and Jean are coming to visit this summer. I’ll tell you everything then, but now, what you need to know is that my brother hurt me. It started with small things: hitting me when he got mad, shoving me when I got in the way, and then it escalated to-” the words caught in Kevin’s throat and he swallowed hard. He shut his eyes then. “To this,” he said, gesturing the scars that crisscrossed his torso and raced down his forearm. He couldn’t bear to look at them.“Riko tried to ruin me and, for a second, I thought that you’d ruin Amalia too.”  

No answer came. Not a verbal one at least. Instead, Kevin felt Niko’s arms wrap around him, crushing him close. Hot tears seared Kevin’s skin. He held Niko tight. 

“I’m not him,” Niko choked out. 

“No,” Kevin agreed. “You’re most definitely not.”