#i should probably just chalk it up to a loss at this point but I could really use the cash if I'm not gonna get what I paid for

[nykloss]

Gawdddd little bit of a personal vent also a warning to everyone out there to not order commissions from ko-fi.

I ordered a custom commission from someone back in January. Good chunk of change, but I was promised the finished commission within 3-4 days. Thought that was pretty soon but there were no bewares or anything about this person and they've got a decent following!

they go radio silent for two weeks. I contact them via their twitter, ko-fi, and business email, to no response.

They begin posting on their socials again advertising their monthly subscription stuff. They are making new stuff for it. I reach out again, a few times actually, and am ghosted again.

I make a public reply to this artist, no response.

After a month I try to contact them one final time, saying that I'm no longer interested in the commission, that I'm wanting a refund, and that I'm going to be filing a chargeback by the end of the week if I don't hear from them.

I get a response! They ask if I want a refund, or they can complete the commission in 4 days. I ask for a refund. My experience with this person has been tainted and I know that I'm probably not going to like the finished product because of it. I also don't trust to actually receive the commission and not just be led along until I can't do a chargeback, but even if I do get it, again, I know that I'm not going to enjoy it. They agree to a refund. Great!

They suddenly can't find my transaction, they ask for some details that would not have even been related to the transaction. I give them those details and the real details they need (order number, transaction email etc) and then they vanish again for nearly another week. It's nearing two months. I start looking for someone else to commission for the idea if I do see this money again and am ever up for it.

I reach out for an update yesterday, and they give me a winky face and imply that my commission will be delivered this morning. I stress again that I no longer want this commission, I want my money back.

Never got a response, still have not received anything, refund or product. Extremely tired.

I don't think this person is trying to pull a scam, pretty sure they just struggle with executive dysfunction, but man!!!! If that's the case you ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT be using a storefront system that automatically accepts money for you, full cost upfront, without you being able to vet it first. You then should absolutely not be promising something within a few days. If I was given honest expectations upfront I wouldn't feel so cheated right now. I HAVE waited months on commissions before, I'm very used to it! but I'm also used to receiving communication about it. Jesus Christ.

[brekk3red]

On Lizzie and Tommy Shelby

☆ A Yapping Session ☆

Notes: I've recently finished the last episode of Peaky Blinders and I have so much on my mind regarding the relationship between Lizzie and Thomas. There simply isn't enough content online to accommodate for my internet surfing, so I'll post my thoughts on here instead, mainly about why I don't think the ship would ever work out. Spoilers and (probably) many grammatical errors after the cut!

It isn't that I don't want to like Lizzie x Tommy - in fact, I was on my knees the entire show praying that they would work out. Eventually, though, I lose hope seeing their relationship struggle to move beyond a painful, one-sided love for the majority of the entire show (except towards the end, but more on that later). It gets to a point where they need a miracle to work.

I should also mention Grace. To me, her significance in the show seems greater when she's dead than alive. I didn't even think that she would make an appearance again after season 1, and that her role is to solidify the distrust Thomas has in others (caused by their entanglements followed by her betrayal). I don't dislike her at all, but I don't think I ever got the chance to truly invest myself in her story before she is already killed. What the show stresses most is the impact her death leaves on Thomas. He is tortured by grief, self-blame, guilt, etc.. So while I don't care much for Grace x Tommy, it's not difficult to see that Thomas will never love anyone as much as he loves Grace.

As for Lizzie, she is who Thomas turns to after Grace's death. They haven't had much of a romantic history beforehand, but a sexual one turned professional when he offers her a job as his secretary (I will try to avoid recounting everything in the show lest this gets boring). During this time, Lizzie acts as his emotional crutch. This doesn't mean much, just that he uses her body to distract himself from the grieving of his late wife. Although he is the one to promise her complete exemption from her past job as a prostitute, he breaks that promise once at the Derby race, then again by basically treating her like one to cope with the loss of his wife. The only difference now is that she is exclusive to Thomas, almost willingly so because she harbours feelings for him.

Their sexual relationship continues throughout the seasons, and he turns to her once more when memories of Greta (pre-war Thomas' lover) resurfaces. So really, up to this point, there isn't a time when he has sex with Lizzie, with Lizzie in mind.

Lizzie's pregnancy prompts their marriage due to the stigmas surrounding children born of wedlock at the time, so it obviously isn't out of love. Nothing particular changes afterwards and Lizzie remains a long shot from ever comparing to Grace. I probably will go back to this topic a lot, but the difference between Thomas’ interactions with Grace contrary to other women is huge. Their sex scenes (often in slow-motion with backing music, etc.) is exceptionally intimate in contrast to the furniture-thumping, lustful fucking he has with prostitutes. Lizzie unfortunately falls into the latter category. Where even well into their marriage, she has to personally demand they do it on the bed.

That whole episode really stands out to me regarding their relationship. Thomas has no qualms in bedding other women while married to her, and Lizzie knows this. Yet she only goes as far as to forbid him from doing it in their own home and not within a day of holding their daughter’s hand (I think). It’s pitiful and only gets worse when Thomas drops the statement that she is “his property” and no one else may touch her. That sounds like something younger me would read on Wattpad and giggle and kick my feet (shame on me), but there is nothing commendable or romantic about this. While Lizzie has to negotiate against his cheating, he brazenly chalks her up as an asset in his inventory, like he would a car or a horse. Possessiveness also isn't love (‼️). There is a clear power imbalance in their dynamics; Lizzie is never in control, Thomas is. He almost never listens to anyone, let alone her. It is always him who makes the decisions and she could argue all she wants but inevitably, she would have to be the one to submit.

More specifically about Thomas' infidelity, I would understand if he has sex with other women for the sake of furthering his plans, such as with Jessie. After all, he isn't in love with Lizzie or their political marriage, so it wouldn't burden him to cheat on her if it means that he gets what he wants logically. However, he doesn't just do that. He hires prostitutes and speaks to Lizzie within the span of seconds and doesn't bat an eye. At some point even basic respect is lacking in their relationship, a relationship that Lizzie has been so loyal to, yet she is constantly met with nothing but humiliation. She holds the title of being his wife, but what supports it other than some rings and legal documents?

Heading towards the last few episodes, Thomas strives to change his ways due to false news about his impending death. He becomes more considerate of Lizzie, shows his care more often and more openly, but their relationship couldn't be salvaged with the given time constraints. At some point, Thomas says "I love you" for what is probably the first time. The way I see it, though, is that he is pushing himself to love her because he knows that is what she wants, what will make her happy. It couldn't, and doesn't work, especially given the short time they have. Even if what he says is true, Lizzie ends up leaving him.

I like this ending. Thomas is right when he says that she deserves better. My gorgeous, breath-taking, soul-stealing queen does deserve better than him and it's about time they let go of whatever relationship they have. While Thomas cares for Lizzie immensely, their relationship is more toxic than not and he ultimately couldn't give her what she needs and deserves after all these years. Sometimes things don't work out and that's okay. I hope that they do not return to each other in the movie (if it comes out), but find separate, better lives for themselves.

Notes: that is all of my late night rant, i may just be spewing nonsense atp so do tell me if i've gotten anything wrong or if you have different takes on these topics. thank yew (❁´◡`❁)

[stromuprisahat]

Though compared to other characters and ships in the books, do you think that darklina could be called toxic from both parties (Aleksander + Alina)? Sorry if this offense anyone I only read the first book.

First of all- fuck offending people. Fiction is written to be discussed among other things and asking a question without ill intent should never be something to be afraid of.

As for the matter at hand- yes, absolutely.

There's plenty written on how did Aleksander wrong Alina and although most of it could be chalked up to caution, strategy and having to deal with mentally damaged girl necessary for his plans alongside more pressing matters like war and incompetent leadership. It's undeniable his feelings got involved, so he hardly remained simply cold and calculating.

He's also a petty bitch, who won't let an offense against himself and his goals slide, if he is in position to take revenge. (See: Genya's punishment, Nikolai's volcralization, partly burning that Saintsdamned orphanage..) Plus he knows words don't cost him anything, but often could work as well as actions (threatening to skin Alina, kill Grishenka etc.).

The main issue is that neither Alina, not plenty of readers see the difference between Alina as a person and her as a strategically important figure, later a leader and figurehead of part of his opposition. Or cannot grasp that a single action rarely has just one purpose with the Darkling.

For example burning that orphanage isn't necessary to prove how far he's willing to go- Alina already sees him as evil incarnate-, but it:

Destroys symbol of the past Alina keeps clinging to, even though it's holding her back.

Destroys one of few things she truly cared for.

Lures her out of hiding, so at least the Civil war can end.

Frees Alina from her shitty mother figure.

Settles the score of dead horrible women that kept damaging their "children" even from afar. And no, I won't cry for Anne Cunt any more than for Ol' Bags.

The other way around is often overlooked. Partly because Aleksander's viewed as a heartless monster by plenty of people, partly because he's the bad guy AND a ("white powerful") man, so he "cannot be abused", especially not by the heroine, from whose POV we see the story unfold.

Aleksander's only role model regarding long lasting relationships is his toxic mother, so he treats harm as affection, therefore we never see him complain, but let's be fair- if he were the one promising Alina to join her, only to proceed trying to kill them both through her powers, he'd be judged for it even more than he already is.

Alina from the first book never saw him as a human being. She found him attractive- yes-, but denied him something as basic as ability to have feelings. and once a salvation in a form of older female figure with puritan attitudes appears, Alina embraces her lies as a word of God, and immediately flees from him, never to stop and think about wider consequences of her sudden disappearance. Her dehumanization of him in the tent scene is quite something.

Alina from following books has fleeing moments of empathy, only to slide back into her "Evil man-needs to be destroyed" attitude. She feels ashamed of wanting him, she finds funny the notion he might've been sexually assaulted, she never considers his points or losses. There's probably more, but this already got longer than I intended, so I'll drop a link to my tag on their interactions I write as I go through the books.

While his unhealthy treatment of her is a combination of centuries of losses, damage caused by narcissistic mother and desperation of a cornered leader, hers of him is about bigotry, shame and will to be responsibility-free no matter the cost.

It's rather ironic, that he keeps trying to teach her- even though it's often the "tough love" he was taught at Baghra's knee-, while she uses "wisdom" of the same woman as ear plugs

Actually, the only truly nice action from her side I can think of is her honoring his last wish.

[elcorhamletlive]

no one asked but here are some of my thoughts on the one piece live action show

the things I didn't like:

Nojiko not knowing about Nami's scheme and plan. I get that it was probably a way to raise the odds and emphasize Nami's loneliness, but to me it cheapened their relationship and took away one of the most touching moments in the manga, when the reason for Nojiko's tattoos is revealed.

humorless, stoic, sexy man Zoro. of all the characters it was the one adaptation that didn't work for me, and Zoro is one of my favorites so it was a bit frustrating. the actor gives a good performance, but whereas the rest of the crew is a perfect translation of their manga selves to the screen, Zoro feels like a fundamentally different character. which is unfortunately because the mix of goofiness and badassery is what makes Zoro so engaging. here's hoping that he's allowed to emote more in season two.

in a similar vein as the previous point, I wasn't a fan of all the "Zoro and Nami exhasperated over Luffy" scenes. imo making Zoro so mature changed the dynamic of the crew and made his relationship with Luffy ring a bit hollow, even when the show wanted me to be emotionally invested in their bond.

Mihawk's introduction makes him come across as way less of threat than in the manga. I get cutting Krieg because they had less time and ultimately I don't think it was a massive loss, but having Gin show up destroyed and hyping Mihawk up is sooo much more effective than just showing him in the middle of a battle.

Nami was also a bit too serious for my taste, but I'll chalk that up to East Blue being when she's still not fully comfortable with the crew yet.

this is the most nitpicky annoying thing but. Arlong was too small. like obviously realistically speaking the actor is jacked but he does not give off the same threatening air that he does in the manga when he's towering over everyone.

the things I liked (most of it!):

from a plot perspective I think they were very smart and strategic about what to cut, they managed to trim everything to make it fit in eight hours and it worked. having Koby and Helmeppo throughout the season was a great way to keep the story from feeling too episodic, and they're both really well cast and I loved watching them. They are in love

removing the jokes on Alvida's appearance: yes. Overall I think they did a good job translating the humor, keeping the absurdness and silliness while also removing what wouldn't fly very well in live action.

Luffy should have been Brazilian but Iñaki Godoy is truly a finding, his performance is top notch and I can't imagine anyone else playing the role. Also in the "might have been created in a lab specifically to play their role" category are: Jacob Romero (there was not a second Usopp was on screen that didn't fill my heart with joy), Craig Fairbrass, Peter Gadiot, Aidan Scott.

special bullet point for Buggy because yeah. you have already heard that but my god he is THAT GOOD. SO much fun to watch.

another special bullet point for Taz Skylar. I didn't mention him in the list above because I guess you can say that technically Sanji is significantly different in the LA than in the mange, but tbh the change was for the better. amping up his charm and giving him a wannabe womanizer vibe was the perfect choice. his chemistry with Zeff was amazing (that one second in which they're fighting and you can see Sanji mouthing along to what he's saying because they've had this fight so many times before? CINEMA). their goodbye broke my heart.

Baratie might have been my favorite arc. and it's a really good arc in the manga so I'm amazed by how much they got it right.

Usopp/Kaya kiss!!!

obsessed with the absolutely random flirting between Zeff and Garp. old men yaoi stays winning

Koby and Luffy's hug was everything I didn't know I needed. also Koby getting drunk. just... Koby.

usually I'd find "omg they did it exactly like the manga panels" kind of a meaningless compliment but the scene where Nami asks for Luffy's help hit me like a brick. it was perfect.

their vows at the ending of the season gave me chills. Watching this show was so much fun and made me relive the excitement this story gave me as a child; a lot is said about an adaption having to capture "the essence" of the original which is of course super vague, but however you interpret it, I think it happened here. This show has so much heart and passion and is just a joyful, fun thing to experience. I can't wait for next season

[eliceislandent]

Cliff Ahead

Ah, the dreaded "30-day cliff" on Amazon. You've probably heard the term if you're an author. It's that moment, about a month after your book launch when your once soaring sales suddenly start to dip. Why, you ask? Blame it on Amazon's ever-fickle algorithm that has the attention span of a goldfish. One minute you're the belle of the ball, and the next, you're old news. This is when Amazon ads, specifically AMS ads (Amazon Marketing Services), enter the picture.

Amazon Ads: AMS vs. AMG

Before you go, "Hold on! What about AMG ads?", let me stop you right there. Yes, AMG is another tier of Amazon advertising, but is usually reserved for more established authors with larger back catalogs because AMG requires a minimum monthly spend (usually around five figures a month). Unless you have enough books in your catalog to make the read-through factor work in your favor, AMS is the way to go after 30 days.

Pre and Post-Launch Strategies

Yes, it’s true that AMS ads can (and probably should) be used leading up to the launch of a book, and third-party promo sites like Bargain Books and Fussy Librarian (just to name two) are a must during the actual launch of your book. However, after your book has been on sale for a month, shouting about it via advertising becomes a must. As an indie author, advertising is a necessary part of the book-selling business. The same as it does for Random House or Harper Collins.

My Experience with AMS Ads

Understanding how to utilize AMS and FB ads. So, today’s post is about my experience with AMS ads on my book The Double, and some things I’ve learned thus far that hopefully will help make me (and you) more successful in utilizing AMS and Facebook ads.

The Art of Advertising

After the magical 30-day mark, you'll need ads. Sure, some people call it "pay-to-play," but I see it as I’m paying to find my readers. I’m no expert, of course, this is only my second book, but the way I see it is every company has to do marketing, but I've come to realize that marketing isn't just a necessary evil; it's an art form.

The Platform Wars: Facebook vs. Amazon vs. TikTok

Now, onto the platform wars: Facebook vs. Amazon vs. TikTok, the new kid on the block. The winner? Well, there's no unanimous champ, and different people find that different platforms work better for them. Which only proves that marketing truly is more art than science.

The goal is not to lose money.

It’s to make money.

I started running AMS ads a couple of weeks ago. I set up Sponsored Product Ads with Standard text, and manually selected targets, in this case, product targets (books) rather than keywords. My focus was targeting 5-10 authors who write in the same genre and whose audience might also enjoy my books. As an indie author, the strategy is to target other indie authors because the thinking is that those readers tend to be more willing to try new authors, and tend to be more voracious readers who are constantly in need of something new. What better audience to serve ads to for a new novel?

Targeting and Adjusting Your AMS Ads

My first week with a bid strategy of $1 per click yielded no results. And by no results, I mean none. Amazon did not spend a penny of my money. In other words, no one was seeing my ad, let alone clicking it. What this means is that other authors with the same strategy were bidding more to get their books better placement. So, I upped my bids. At this point, I started to see sales. Thing is, the cost of those sales was losing me money. Now, some of that loss can be chalked up to ‘customer-acquisition costs.’

Still, the goal is not to lose money. It’s to make money.

This meant some adjustments were in order. So, I went back to my ads and played with my audience targets, my bids, my ad copy, and even the images I used in the ads. Again, there is an art to the science. As for TikTok, that requires more creative videos to work as a platform, and this summer I’ve been a little too busy to get to it. However, the main appeal of TikTok right now is its organic, exponential growth. So, I do intend to up my TikTok game. I’ll keep you posted along the way.

Growing Your Mailing List

In addition to driving sales of my book on Amazon, I am also looking to grow my mailing list. My aim is simple: to expand my pool of potential readers for my upcoming book and to create a connection with my audience that extends beyond the books. So, whereas I’ve focused exclusively on AMS ads for selling my book(s) on Amazon, I’ve recently thrown my hat into the Facebook ad ring, shelling out five bucks a day on a couple of ads driving people to my Newsletter, “Elice Island,” which I publish weekly on Substack. I optimized my landing page to offer a free short story, "The Panama Deposit" (a crime story with a twist). All my platforms are linked up! BookFunnel, MailerLite, and Substack—I'm covering all my bases. Overkill? Maybe. But every step is a lesson learned.

Paying Attention to Data

After nearly a week of ads, I almost pulled the plug because I wasn't seeing any sign-ups. Despite following all these best practices, five days in I found I was failing to generate any sign-ups from the Facebook ad. At the same time, my cost per click was four dollars on one ad and two dollars on the other. Way too high. Especially for zero results. I couldn’t understand but but figured the data doesn’t lie. So, despite thinking the ads were pretty good, I checked my ego and hit pause on both. Right after I did, it occurred to me that I ought to check Book Funnel to see if there was any activity there.

Voila! Turns out I’d added sixteen new subscribers in just a handful of days! I immediately turned the ads back on.

I realized I was looking at the wrong metric. I was trying to track actual subscribers, whereas what I needed to pay attention to was CTR or click-through-rate. The subscriber sign-ups were happening on Book Funnel and the ad could not track those, (raising another optimization I need to incorporate: adding my Facebook pixel to my Book Funnel page; cue the YouTube “How To” videos) In the meantime, I’ve continued to see subscriber growth.

Switching Gears to Hollywood

Switching gears to Hollywood...sigh…unfortunately not much good news to report. The WGA-SAG strike is still dragging on (Day 127, but who's counting?). I feel a little like a man shipwrecked on a deserted island trying to keep track of the days he’s been stranded. People are sinking further into debt while studios squabble among themselves. It's a mess, and theories abound on how it'll all pan out.

I talk to writer friends who all have theories about what that’s about or what it will take to end the strike - some call for the heads of the CEOs at the AMTPT for the pain they’ve inflicted on writers and actors (“heads need to roll.”). Others await a federal mediator. Others fear that the studios will strike a side deal with the actors (SAG) as they did with the DGA (Directors Guild) which would pressure the writers into accepting a deal. The studios meanwhile cry poverty despite the fact it is on them that they squandered the golden age of TV, and broke the broadcast-basic-cable-model in their rush into streaming which they wildly overestimated and which they’ve yet to turn into a workable, profitable, business.

What we do know is that if the strike ends tomorrow, most new projects won't see a dime until 2024. How much longer can this go on? Your guess is as good as mine, but at this rate, it might stretch into the new year. If the last meeting between the Union and the AMTPT negotiators was any indication, the outlook is not good.

The Final Word

That’s all I got for now. Hopefully, everyone enjoyed their summer and is easing into Autumn, new school years for the kids, and the final quarter of 2023. Make each day count.

If you find posts like this entertaining and informative, please consider becoming a paid member of Elice Island. As a paid subscriber you have access to private posts, book giveaways (advance copies and autographed editions), cover reveals, and discounts on new releases.

Thank you.

[sorrycory]

The dreams afterwards weren’t as consistent as the rest. They started up whenever, and didn’t seem connected in any way. But they still felt like that same surreal experience- I felt everything. I felt warmth, I felt cold, I felt the texture of the dirt and blood on my palms- it felt like I was there. I felt alive, but the memories I had weren’t mine.

The dream after that was in the backyard of my house now. It was strangely more empty than it was now- to say my backyard is an acre wouldn’t fit, but it’s a fairly big plot of grass. Leads up to a hill where my house is, but that’s besides the point. It was fairly foggy, I couldn’t even really see that far ahead of me. Little dandelions were patched into the grass, and the center of the dream was this tree that’s around the middle of my yard. It’s not even that big of a tree, but there was this treehouse there. I climbed up the ladder, and saw one of my friends- I should probably just call them A? They were drawing on the walls of it- looked like it was all drawn on with chalk, but they were holding a pencil. We just spent the dream drawing on the walls of my treehouse- giggling, cracking jokes- passing time until I woke up.

The weirdest part of it is that I never got to have a treehouse as a kid, but I really really wanted one- I drew up concept designs and all, but my parents said that none of the trees near our house were sturdy enough to hold one. Maybe it’s a sign for a loss of childhood or something, I’ll never know- but it was a nice dream while it lasted. I always had nightmares as a kid, never had a proper dream at all- so it was a surprise. I think that was the start of something else, though- I’ll talk about that in the future.

Once again, I’ll draw some things up in a little bit. My hands are a little full In trying to remember all these details- this is everything in the span of a year, so there’s a lot to try to dig up. I took notes about a lot of them, so there should be plenty to talk about-

[wheres-my-pencil]

surprise surprise i kinda actually kept writing by accident again fhsbfh. i never write like. fanfiction fanfiction or anything so this is new to me and will probably still be trash but i like this chapter (?) a little bit better :] keep reading to . well. keep reading fjfhdf. this is now 2/2, it's kinda finished now 💥💥

maybe stanley can only be expressionless at the discovery, and maybe it scared the narrator a little. he has no idea what stanley is thinking. he never does. he pretends he does so that nothing stanley might really feel about him could hurt him, or god forbid, reach him. he insults him to keep him at a safe distance.

stanley notices the narrator curl in on himself upon approaching, or maybe just at the thought of stanley seeing him be so .. embarrassing...

god, how could he let this happen.

stanley steps back to where he was and raises his hands in promise of peace, as if facing a scared animal.

they stay at a tense stalemate for a few seconds. the narrator looks at stanley's hands with a glint of hope in his eyes, and then swiftly looks down and away. for once, the narrator is at a loss for words.

stanley cautiously walks a little closer, sits down, and waits for him to find them again.

"i truly am sorry, stanley. it's hard to admit even to myself why i would do such a silly thing," he starts to mumble, shuffling himself from his spot in the air towards the floor into more of a sitting position, "but i seem to have taken some sort of.."

he looks up at stanley and is faced with the most overwhelming feeling he's ever had at just seeing stanley so close, face to face, and seeing him stare back for real. he looks away again and braces for something.

"some sort of. possibly. non-platonic.. liking... to um. you."

stanley sits up straight suddenly. the narrator pulls his knees closer toward his chest.

"now i know what you must be thinking- and you would be right. this is simply unacceptable. there must be some..." he hides his face in his hands, "some terrible sort of- glitch or mishap in the files that messed with my head."

he then folds his arms and burrows most of his head between them. stanley scooches closer, subtly trying to catch his eyes from where they glare at the floor behind him.

"this must be sickening to you, and i apologize. with deepest sincerity."

he wants some sort of answer. he lets himself (take a minute to gather himself to be able to) stare into stanley's eyes again with a furrowed brow. they seem far deeper than they should look. he would chalk it up to an optical illusion or prank, but there's a feeling in his chest that shouldn't be physically possible either.

"it sickens me too, in a way."

stanley hasn't moved. possibly out of disgust? shock? he's unreadable. the narrator shifts his focus to the ceiling.

"i'll be sure to take this up with the developers, or i'll fix the files myself somehow. better yet, i could delete a few and it should take care of this whole m-"

a hand touches the narrator's, where it sits clenched to white knuckles on his knee. it's strange and somewhat inorganic, but it's there. it's all computer code, all part of the game, but both of them felt it. they stare at the point of contact.

the narrator looks up at him, his lips tight.

"..stanley?"

stanley follows his gaze, and once again, and the narrator is struck with the same fear he felt during the first time they accidentally made eye contact. stanley gently lifts his hand off of the narrator's, and the narrator feels like he could die.

stanley turns his palm upwards, presenting it to the scared, slightly ghostly figure in front of him. the narrator starts to unfold his arms, still stiff in the shoulders, and hesitantly places his hand in the other's palm.

"is this.. um.. pardon me but um. what exactly do you mean by this?" it was the first time he had admitted to not knowing what was going through stanley's head.

"are we... ok like this? i mean- um. goodness something really must be wrong with me."

before he gets the chance to look away again, stanley pulls their hands towards his chest and holds them there. it feels unnatural and new, and it looks a little wrong, but stanley something odd with his face. stanley has seen pictures of it around the office, so he vaguely knows it's a positive gesture. he hopes not to get it wrong.

stanley smiles at him.

"oh." the narrator finds himself smiling all weird too. a little bit wobbly on his end. "that's. strange." he wipes something off of his face with his sleeve.

"oh stanley, i think i really must be bugged."

his other hand reaches for their joined ones.

"although, i don't think i mind it too much, if you don't," he chokes through a shaky laugh.

in an attempt to answer somehow, stanley moves himself to the narrator's side and tries to mimic the situation he found himself in earlier. his head doesn't quite rest the same way on the narrator's shoulder as it would if he approached from behind, and their hands are clasped together so he can't exactly wrap his arms around the man, but this was nice too.

and with the narrator leaning his head on stanley's, it seemed to have worked as an answer.

(read more for a short pseudo-fic?? that i wrote kinda by accident?? it's kinda shit and doesn't have anything about stanley and it's mostly just describing a half baked idea but have it if you want. also this has definitely been done before but whatever)

au where the narrator, unbeknownst to stanley, finds out that he can be physically affectionate in a form that stanley can't see or feel.

after countless careful testing of stanley's reactions to confirm this, he starts to casually sort of. walk side by side to him and brush their hands together.

after a few hundred resets, he's at a point where he constantly holds hands (phases them through each other) with stanley as he yammers on as usual. sometimes he floats around him in circles and studies the folds in his clothes and the way stanley moves, still blabbering about, until, carefully, he leans reeeal close to stanley's face. he takes in every wrinkle and dimple, every reflection across his eyes, and watches the way his character model's hair sways a little as he walks, still pretending to have some sort of strong opinion about whatever he's talking about. once again, he starts to do this regularly.

when stanley happens to look at something that lines up their eyes to seem like eye contact, the narrator gets all freaked out and goes strangely quiet. he makes up some excuse (let's see here.. the next door is .. hmm .. .. (the first time it happened he actually did get them both lost)), and the next few times it happens, he starts rambling faster, trips over his words, and flusters himself in his own monologue.

after another few hundred resets he calms down and gets used to the fake-outs and gradually forgets it was ever even a worry.

during one reset in this peaceful phase, the narrator hugs him from behind, wraps his arms over his shoulders and around his chest, and sighs somewhat like a dog as he rests the underside of his chin on stanley's shoulder.

of course, sighs of yearning and disappointment sound similar enough that this one fit nicely for his current monologue. in fact, he starts getting so caught up with sarcastically praising stanley for staying in the employee lounge for more than two whole minutes, that as he leans into his face, yawning mid-sentence from the pseudo-warmth of stanley's neck and left cheek, he doesn't even notice that stanley has not only stayed in the same room, but hasn't moved an inch for the past five minutes.

worse yet, the narrator only finally realized when he happened to look up admiringly again, and nearly flew across the room at the sheer intensity of stanley's eyes staring dead into his own. he paused his berating. he didn't even have an excuse prepared, and he wouldn't need one, considering how stanley's first movement after the narrator's nearly endless stream of complaining was to turn to look at him where he hovered slightly above the floor, somewhat disheveled and panicked.

that's all i got for now fhdwds

[chimielie]

cw: bruises and mention of slight injury , implied past nsfw if you squint, not angst or fluff just. (maybe both)

“Dump him,” your friends advise sagely. They advise you like you do them, cautious and apologetic but still insistent.

You know that you should. Sometimes it seems like he likes you, a lot a lot, and sometimes it feels like he’s forgotten about you entirely. You’re not even sure he knows your last name. You also know that you’re leaving to work in another country for six months in a week and a half, and his schedule will be beyond full in two (business owner, full-time grandson, nicotine addict, and boys’ volleyball coach) and cutting it off a little early is hardly a loss.

You’d woken up full of resolve (and a little hungover), but you’d stumbled sometime around the time you got into the shower and were reminded of the last time you’d had one with him. It’s not like Keishin hasn’t demonstrated that he cares about you—he has, thoroughly and often multiple times in a row. Drying yourself and catching sight of your form in the mirror, you notice a patch of discoloration on your upper right arm, an almost perfect circle of bruised flesh.

Weird. You wonder where it came from, and chalk it up to your last date.

It looks fresh.

If you agonize a little too long over what to wear, that’s nobody’s business but yours. You finally settle on the perfect blend between casual and put-together, comfortable and sexy, and arrive five minutes early to the cafe you’d agreed on.

Normally, he drives you, but you don’t want to rely on someone you just ended things with for transportation. For a depressing moment, you imagine that he wouldn’t really care either way.

Keishin slides into the seat across from you, breaking your train of thought. It’s just not fair how good he looks: his hair is ruffled like he drove here with all the windows down, and his eyes are bright, and the sleeves of his dark, loose-fitting t-shirt expose too much of the lean curvature of his arm muscles.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, in his heart’s-thief voice.

Well, actually, I don’t think you should call me things like that anymore, is what you mean to say.

“You have a bruise,” you say instead, nodding to a near perfectly round bruise on his upper right arm.

“Oh, yeah,” he looks down at it. “One’a the kids got me with a pencil. I think they were doing dares to procrastinate on homework or some shit.”

“Fun,” you say in a not-so-fun voice. ��It’s funny. I have one just like it.” You tug your own sleeve up, showing off the contusion. You twist a little, trying to examine it further, missing the expression on his face.

"You always bruise easily?" You look at him, and there's a taste of haze in his voice that's probably just from the smoking.

"Yeah, ever since I was a kid," you shrug. "I swear, I was rambunctious, but I couldn't explain half of the marks I came home with every day. My parents actually took me to get checked out for anemia at one point, but they ran tests and just told me to stop falling out of trees or that it might be a..." You shut your mouth, aware that you're rambling, trying to put off the inevitable.

"Soulmate thing," Keishin finishes, and you can hear his swallow. Soulmates are a rare phenomenon, and no one ever assumes that they're one of the lucky ones. Better to be pleasantly surprised when—if—they ever meet and figure it out. "Hey, um, I'm sure it's nothing, but I've got this nasty scar on my foot, right—"

"On the pinky toe, the size of a penny," you interrupt. "My toenail fell off when I was twelve and it took forever to grow back. I wouldn't wear sandals all summer."

"I think I was fourteen," he's pushing up your sleeve, looking at the pencil-bruise again. His hands are calloused, his nails cut short. "I fell skating, and then I let it get infected. I had to wear a fucking boot, really killed my vibe."

"Shit," you say. All at once, you remember what you came here to do; remember that you'd texted him We need to talk, prepared to explain why this wasn't working out. Told him you didn't need one last ride in his pickup truck. His thumb rubs roughly over your (his?) bruise, and it aches and it's soothing all at once. Your coffee is no longer steaming, forgotten on the table between you.

"Shit," your soulmate echoes.

[maschotch]

I've gone a little deeper about Emily's past in my fic 'Unrequited' and 'As It Was'. I'm just obsessed with her character and the backstory both she and Hotch have. And I just finish reading the little backstory you did about Emily and I loved it!!

i’m really not much of a jemily fan (partly because i think fanon characterizations of jj are completely delusional, partly because i think fanon characterizations of emily are beyond insulting, and mostly because i cannot fucking fathom what anyone could possibly like about jj), but i went ahead and read those two pieces because i figured you came into my inbox already knowing that. it’s just… not how i see either of those characters. not even necessarily the shipping aspect, even ignoring my reservations about jj, but because of the way i think emily approaches relationships

this sounds hypocritical after writing about emily + family, but i feel like emily doesn’t really care about her biological family anymore. at least i’d like to. i’d like to think she’s accepted that she’ll never be what her mother wants and that she’ll never get what she wants from her mother. she’s 36 when she joins the bau—surely that’s enough time to realize she can’t hold onto those childish fantasies anymore. not that i disagree with what i wrote, i just think it's given her a complex ab family rather than it actually being something she truly craves. it was a setup for her life: she wasn't meant to be with others, which is something she eventually tries to change about herself

i’m a big fan of low-empathy emily, so i feel like she has to put active effort into caring about relationships. as a child raised by an extremely distant parent, she probably chalked it up to never having connections growing up, so she never learned how to make connections in the future. it’s easier to assume she’s broken, and it’s easier to blame her mom for it

but really, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, she’s just different. at some point i think she had to wrestle with that: it’s hard to think she fell into the job best suited for her personality just by coincidence. being a spy requires that cold, calculating observation and analysis of relationship dynamics. she can view things objectively because she isn’t naturally inclined to get emotionally attached. she can witness unfathomable horrors without a flinch—things that would rock jj to her core, things that would perturb the unflappable hotch. she knows she’s better equipped to handle those types of experiences because having empathy was never really a priority. (it's part of why i think she was the only one who could've walked through hotch's apartment that day: she wouldn't get distracted)  

that being said, i don’t think connections are impossible for her. the bau proves that, declan proves that. but i think that was a conscious choice on her part: she had seen enough—caused enough—pain and grief to realize that she should feel guilty for it. so i think she wakes up every day and decides to care. she decides to be a good person. eventually she confronts that she's tired of living a life she doesn't feel like she could be proud of

she’s not heartless, by any means. she just doesn’t become emotionally involved until she comes to the logical conclusion to do so. she has a soft spot for kids because they haven’t had a chance to truly know themselves and the world they live in. she loves the team because of how deeply connected they are to each other. so, when push comes to shove, she’s always willing to leave if it means keeping them together. it’s easy to make that choice because she loves them: in season 3 when the choice is between her and hotch and she knows hotch’s loss will devastate them; in season 6 when she’s making them potential targets for doyle’s vendetta; in season 7 when she feels the tension that never quite settled upon her return. i don’t know if any of the others would’ve made those decisions as easily, even if it was the best choice for them as a whole. not even hotch, who is terrified that his proximity is enough to hurt people he cares about. she’s detached in a way that can separate her from others, but she’s able to turn that into her strength: whether that means manipulating her way into terrorist organizations or walking away from the only chance at a family she's ever had just to keep them safe

i have my bits and pieces of evidence for it that i can scrounge into a semi-believable character analysis, but ultimately i think it’s so i can enjoy more of her character without getting irked by aspects of the archetypes she could fit that would typically annoy me. i’d like to think she’s above some of that: she’s too cool to have mommy issues, too badass to spend years pining over relationships, too self assured to be insecure about her decisions, too smart to let anyone see through her. 

i say all this as a hotch fan, who has traits very similar to these. but it suits him. it makes him more interesting, to know that there’s a vulnerability behind his stoic appearance. but with emily i think it’s far more admirable for her to choose to suffer because she wants to care. minimal loss is the perfect example of that: she makes the logical choice to put herself at risk because she wants to protect reid. she’s not running away from who she is anymore, and she’s not really fighting it either. she chooses to be a good person, not out of guilt or even love, but because it’s something she values. 

for me, emily is the cool brooding hero who could be a villain so easily. maybe, in an earlier time in her life, she was. but she’s done being selfish. she’s willing to make sacrifices for others because she decided that living by a code is better than living for nothing at all, even if it causes her pain. guilt and love—two burning sensations that were so opposite yet so intrinsically linked—were burdens she chose to bear so she wouldn’t feel so hollow anymore. and it does cause her pain. so, so much pain. to me, it makes her endlessly more fascinating. i’d rather her be a knife that dulls its edges than something soft chiseled to a jagged point. 

[arthrimyalgia]

I have made separate post giving updates but I haven't updated this post yet, so here we go. My roommate/best friend and I had to resort to staying at an Airbnb in a much more expensive city. We really lucked out with the Airbnb hosts, and the apartment we are staying at is well furnished and stocked. However, it's three times the amount of money to stay here than our old house, and we are both struggling to adjust to this new city and find jobs.

We don't have a car but I made sure to find a place that has decent public transportation, so we are able to take the bus places now. Our old town didn't even have a bus system because it was so small and rural. We are adjusting to this new city and how to get around.

My bestie found a job, but from the start it was extremely toxic and chalk full of red flags. They ended up threatening to write him up on his THIRD day of computer training because they expected him to somehow cram 16+ hours of training into 10 hours. They were already breathing down his neck and watching him like hawks, being completely rude and insulting him for his age and saying our generation is lazy.. The entire place was soulless and full of utter bullshit rules. One of his co-workers was written up just for lifting a box the wrong way. I told him to get out before they burnt him out completely, and to look for a different job. He probably worked about 12 hours total before throwing in the towel. With his chronic fatigue, current paranoia and stress, and his likelihood of autistic burnout, and the minimum wage and expected maximum effort, it just wasn't worth it for his mental and physical health. He is going to have a couple of rest days and will be scheduling interviews for next week. I really believe in him, he just has been out of work for the past couple of years so he needs to be able to adjust.

I was able to find a part time job in retail that barely pays over minimum wage, I am not sure how many hours I will get since my schedule is pretty limited due to relying on the bus schedule. I was told some weeks I may get 12 hours, and others I'll get 20, and that it will depend on my limited availability. I really am hoping it's on the higher end of the spectrum, but I have to be prepared for it not to be. I should be starting this job next Thursday and will luckily be paid weekly, but I am unsure of how this will work out in the long run.

We are fortunate that we got our tax returns at the perfect time to pay for a second month in our Airbnb, and I am glad I got some credit cards right before moving to keep us afloat until we get paid. But I am already paying $400 a month on both a loan and my debt consolidation, which are paying for closed credit cards I still owe so much money on. I am terrified I will trap myself in the exact same situation with these new cards. I was struggling all of last year trying to manage my chronic pain and my mental health with my job, and I ended up making less than $15k all year due to it. I can't afford to be stuck in that situation this year, not with prices rising the way they are.

I am incredibly grateful to those who have donated to me so far, I don't have the words. I was so happy with my second donation that I was able to buy myself a cane, something I have been needing for a long time to help manage my pain in my legs. But I really haven't gotten much, and I am at a loss of what to do. At this point I am begging for help, for advice, for anything. I am petrified and have so much trauma around financial stuff like this. This situation isn't ideal but I know I can make it work if we can both get decent jobs and work together, I just need a little extra help in the beginning..

Please if you have any suggestions or advice or are able to afford it, please help us in anyway you can if you're able. I am quite literally begging. From the bottom of my heart I am so grateful for anything anyone can offer us. I am so thankful for those who have shared this post, and those who have been fortunate enough to be in a position to be able to donate. I know it's not something everyone can do, I completely understand. Even just sharing this and boosting it would mean the world to me. I know that is all I am able to do as someone struggling financially. Every note counts though.

Again, if it's something people are interested in I will try my hand at art or writing commissions. I have written 50k+ fanfictions in the past that I am quite embarrassed about, but I promise I am really proud of my writing and think I really can create something beautiful. I am out of practice with my art, but I have retained a lot of muscle memory and can whip up some nice portraits and love to play with color. I need some practice again, I have just been so stressed I can't even think of what to start with. It's difficult to create for myself when I am so frozen in fear. But if you have a character or a friend you would like me to draw a portrait of, I will try my very best to create something beautiful for you. Honestly just hit me up and give me an offer. Maybe I should try to dig up some old art and writings and see if anyone would be interested? I have a unique style of digital painting, I just lack inspiration.

I am desperate and I am begging, please share this and help boost my voice. Thank you so much. 💕

Just got an 90 day eviction notice today.. I have no idea what we're going to do. My savings shrank down to $800 due to hour cuts at work.. I don't have a car and I live out in the country in a city with no public transportation. I am taking this entire thing in okay but gotta admit I have no clue how we are going to manage this along with disabilities and no car. I feel scared but I am trying to be brave.

[crowsmybeloveds]

Shadow and Bone Series: Chapter Two

In Cold Blood

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Summary: The Crows continue to visit Y/N at the Emerald Palace, and make some interesting developments.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Implied suicide (don’t take it too seriously hint hint); abuse; Pekka Rollins; again canon typical violence/slave stuff (this time it’s described more, but again nothing graphic); the Menagerie;

A/N: Thank you so much if you liked the first chapter!!! This one is a little longer and I promise the end isn’t as bad as it might seem.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~

Jesper Fahey liked to do his own thing. Sure, as a member of the Dregs he had to listen to his boss and go on jobs, but he loved his free time in between. Hence, he often avoided going on little arends for Kaz at all costs. It would be a waste of his time.

Jesper Fahey was now talking to Kaz. Volunteering for an arend. For the fourth time this week.

Kaz, Inej, and Jesper had been visiting the girl in the basement regularly since their first meeting with her. Kaz chalked it up to business, the girl and her potions were powerful assets, but the other two would admit they had found a new friend.

There were rules to these visits. First, only go during the day. Even if it seemed counterintuitive to sneak there in the broad daylight, Y/N insisted she would be unavailable in the night, as that was when her “work” was done. Also, if you are there, you must hide well behind the crates, and remain armed. You were lucky every time you made it out of there alive.

It was a daunting task, but Jesper was always up for it.

“You’re going to go there again?” Kaz asked him, eyebrows raised, “You know it’s Inej’s turn, correct?”

“Yes, and I also don’t care,” Jesper answered, “Also, she probably has things to see, people to do, and whatnot. I, on the other hand, have my whole day cleared. And I couldn’t deprive the lovely basement girl of this face.” He smiled, pointing to himself, “I mean, come on.”

Kaz stared at him, seeing through his antics in a minute. Jesper had taken a liking to the girl. What will happen the day he visits to find she’s not there anymore? Kaz thought. His hopes are too high.

“Fine, Jesper,” He agreed, “but be careful not to draw attention.” He scrunched his nose. “Do your best not to dawdle.”

“Right, I’m off then!” Jesper exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and ran off.

“I’m going tomorrow!” Kaz shouted after him.

The sharpshooter knew his boss was suspicious of his actions, but in all honesty he didn’t care. Normally he would have thought there wasn’t much spending time with her could do, as she had told him many of the same things over and over. That must have meant she had told him all that she knew. But Jesper was not going for information, he was going to be with her. He liked to think they were friends.

Jesper was often distracted. Whether he saw a pretty person to flirt with or a table to gamble at, he always found a way to not be doing whatever he was supposed to. Everything around him was so appealing and stimulating, especially in the Barrel. Even so, he sped down the streets without a single double take or second thought as he headed to the Emerald Palace. He really wanted to see her. So bad it was addicting. At first he thought that maybe the girl was drugging him, seeing as that is her particular expertise, but soon he realized that he just liked her. She was funny, and she laughed at all his jokes. She was also so intriguing. So powerful yet rendered powerless. He was enchanted, but he knew something was missing. It seemed it wasn’t her fault. He wanted to help.

That day when he arrived at the window (after making sure no one could see him, of course) Jesper saw Y/N sitting against the wall with her legs hugged to her chest. He called her name softly, and waited for her to reply. She didn’t reply, or even move. Against his better judgement, he shouted louder, risking being discovered by one of Pekka’s crew. He didn’t care. He banged the windows. Praying she would say something. Or turn her head. Or nod. Anything. She didn’t. A single tear rolled down her face.

Y/N had been sitting there for three hours. There wasn’t much to be said about what had happened. Only that she did not remember, whether her loss of memory was intentional or not. It was an off day, that’s all.

Jesper was panicking. He had no idea how to get her to wake up. That is, if she was asleep. Truthfully, he did not know what was wrong with her or what to do. Unfortunately, his noise making had roused a different group of people. Jesper had to run down the alley as he heard shouts coming his direction. He ran the rest of the way home, still in shock. He was not haunted by his near escape with the Dime Lions, but the look on the girl’s face. What had they done to her?

“And she didn’t move at all?” Inej asked. Jesper had just explained to her what happened after he showed up to her room at the Slat. She hadn’t appreciated being woken up from one of her rare naps, but she didn’t complain when she saw the look on his face.

“Not that I could see,” he replied, shaking his head, “Inej, I swear she could hear me.”

Inej did not know what to say. This kind of behavior was not usual for Jesper. He had his normal amount of energy, but it was not often it was all directed to one place: worry. It was odd that something upset him and he did not distract from it by going to gamble or making a joke.

“I just, if it were you I’d understand, but who could ignore me?” he said, “Going unnoticed is not a Jesper talent.”

There it was.

“You’re deflecting” She called him out, “It’s not funny. We should tell Kaz.”

“That's not funny,” Jesper replied, “what is Kaz gonna do? Tell us to stop talking to her?”

Inej sighed. It’s possible that he would advise that. But he also wouldn’t just let Pekka Rollins keep his most dangerous weapon. Especially not when she didn’t seem to have much loyalty. She had told Inej so many times. The girls had a bond due to the Menagerie, and Y/N told her much about her past and present. She explained different chemicals she had made and plans she had heard to Kaz. But with Inej, she explained how she felt about them.

Y/N hated every second in that basement. She had told Inej as much. Repeatedly. But she was rather scatterbrained. She repeated herself often and forgot things that she had already been told. She would forget what day it was and what she had done the night before. Inej had experience with trauma and sleep deprivation enough to shrug this off. She didn’t want to cause her friend anguish by questioning it.

The incident Jesper was describing made her think that maybe she should. Y/N was smart. Hell, she was a self taught Grisha fabrikator. So good, she could kill people from miles away. How could she be so forgetful? Someone so scientifically gifted must have a better mind than that. Someone must have been messing with it.

After some convincing to Jesper that Kaz would not kill or give up on Y/N, the pair made their way to their boss’s office.

“I was waiting for this to happen,” was Kaz’s response.

“What, that’s it?” Jesper raised his voice, “You have nothing else to say?”

Kaz glared at him from his desk. “I don’t know that you thought through your attachment to her, Jesper. You should never have assumed she was on our side.”

Jesper stared bullets at his boss in front of them. They seriously weren’t going to help her at all? She needed to get out of there, he knew that for certain. If it wasn’t because he cared about her then it should be because she is an asset. A good investment. Saints, he hated calling her that.

He didn’t say any of this, however, and instead started to walk out of the office. Just before he was out the door, he heard Brekker speak up.

“I’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

When Kaz Brekker reached the girl’s window, he gave it exactly seven taps with his cane, with a very specific beat. It was a signal he had made with Y/N so that she knew to open the window and talk to him without him having to raise his voice.

The girl turned toward the window at the sound. She set down the bottle she was currently working on and walked over. Kaz started speaking as soon as it was opened.

“How long have they been drugging you?”

Y/N scoffed, “Hello to you, too!”

“How long?”

“Um, never?” She replied, getting confused. “They don’t drug me with anything. I’d notice. That’s kind of my job description.”

Kaz looked to the side, thinking. The only way to explain her odd behavior, forgetfulness, and calmness in her position was that she was being manipulated. And because she was constantly making poisons and “potions” for Pekka, it made sense that she was being given her own drugs without her knowledge. He had thought this since he’d met her. She had to be on some sort of relaxers when he first saw her. Why else would she have so willingly opened the window for strangers?

“Why did you ignore Jesper when he was here yesterday?” He asked, hoping to get the information from her in a more roundabout way.

“I didn’t?” Y/N asked, “Inej was here yesterday, she got those vials of knockout gas you asked for.”

Kaz squinted at her, “Y/N, that was two days ago.”

She shook her head, “No, no, because I was working on those just yesterday and I just finished them when she stopped by. I haven’t seen Jesper in a couple of days, Kaz. Are you feeling ok?”

Kaz wasn’t sure how to react to this. She had missed the whole day? He was sure things like this had been going on this whole time, but never in the month since they began speaking with her has she forgotten a whole day. She had to have taken something.

“Are you self medicating?”

“No! Why- what are you talking about? What is going on?”

“Y/N, Jesper came here yesterday and you were sitting in that corner near catatonic. You wouldn’t speak or even move.” Kaz informed her.

“He must not have shouted loud enough, I was probably asleep.”

“You normally sleep with your eyes open?” He is tone was sharp. “Jesper said you were crying.”

She didn’t respond. She was shocked out of her mind. It was possible Kaz was lying to her to get some sort of information out of her, but it didn’t seem that way. He looked uneasy, the kind of unease that comes from not knowing something. He was a very smart man, and when something did not make sense to him he got nervous. So, this must have actually happened. And if she could not remember it, something was terribly wrong.

“I’m sorry, Kaz. I just don’t remember.”

“Fine. Then I need you to stop eating the food they give you. I’ll have Inej stop by with something to eat during the day.” Kaz paused, thinking. “And I would like to get you out of here, and have you join the Dregs. I just have to figure out how.”

“No, Kaz. I can’t leave.”

“Why? You have loyalties to Pekka Rollins?” He asked, anger clear in his voice.

Do I? She thought. While she knew his treatment of her was unfair, she wondered whether or not she still cared about him. In her time at the Emerald Palace, Pekka had told her many things about how he was the only one who would ever care for her. He claimed that he had saved her from the Menagerie, and he was taking care of her because he loved her. He also said that he would help her find her sister, often claiming that the potions Y/N was making was helping him follow leads about her.

When he started bringing men down into Y/N’s room, she was only a teenager. The first man that had ever touched her in that room also told her information about upcoming trips, which Pekka used to choose the perfect time to rob his house. Y/N felt disgusting in her skin ever since, but Pekka reassured her. I’m sorry , canary. I’ll protect you. Those men are not like me. While any sane person would call giving her food and shelter supplying her basic needs, Pekka called it courtesy. A gift because he loved her. A gift that could be taken away. He let men take advantage of her just so she could get him information, and then called it love. And she believed him. Until one day.

A man had come down into her room, which was usual for her on any given night. However, this man started out rough and stayed that way for the rest of his visit. She had tried her best with past men to get as much information as she could through simple flirting and drugging, but he was not there for small talk. For a brief moment, she considered saying no. In the moment following, she remembered what happened the other times she had done so.

She didn’t get any of the information she had been asked to draw from the man. Pekka was livid. The argument following had been explosive and painful. Not just emotionally.

“This isn’t love.” She tried to say it in a firm voice, but it came out broken and weak.

“How could you possibly know?” Pekka replied.

“Because you don’t deny it.” She said, summoning the strength to look up at him. “The men who come down here sometimes mention their wives. They might not be the pinnacle of married men, but I know they would never do this. This is bad for me.”

“Oh, is it so bad for you?” He raised his voice. “And who is going to treat you better, hm? Who out there would possibly care about you like I do?”

She turned her back to him. She sniffled as she cleaned up her worktable, silently hoping he would just leave.

He grabbed her arm, whipping her around to face him. “I don’t care if you hate me. You will stay here because of Anais. You will stay because you need me.”

The memory was scarring.

Kaz watched as Y/N got lost in her own thoughts. His voice startled her out of her memories. “Y/N, do you have loyalties to him?”

“My sister, Anais.” She breathed. “He is helping me find my sister.”

“Is that all?”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need to find her. Have you ever had any siblings?”

Kaz paused for a moment. The comment seemed to toy with him. “No.”

“Then you don’t get it. I want to be with people I belong with. To figure out where I’m from.” She sighed. “Pekka is helping me with that.”

“And he has proven that he is actually doing so?”

“He said that he knew she was involved with the slavers who took me away. He is getting in with them to try and figure out where they took her.”

“Y/N, I don’t think he is actually doing that.” Kaz said, shaking his head. “This is your reason for staying?”

“And I have nowhere else to go!”

Kaz took a deep breath. He had decided what he was going to do for the girl since the day he met her. She was an asset. With her power he could complete jobs and gain kruge with record speed. Not to mention, if Kaz had her on his side, Pekka didn’t. The sweet taste of revenge covered his tongue just at the thought.

“I have an offer,” he began, “You come with me. Not now, but soon. I’ll come everyday to ask questions and we’ll plan your escape. In the meantime, you gather your things discreetly and try to find as much dirt on Rollins as you can.”

“But my sister -“

“If you are a part of the Dregs, you will help when asked, but the rest of your time is yours. Look for your sister, gamble your money away, take up baking, — I don’t care. You’ll be free.”

The offer was good. Great, actually. So why was she hesitating? Was Pekka’s manipulation really enough to make her turn away an opportunity like this? I don’t know.

And what about Kaz? Could she really trust him? The man wanted her for her powers, too. How was he different from Pekka? In her limited experience, he wasn’t. I should stay.

But Jesper. In the short while she had known him, Jesper had become her favorite part of being alive. And Inej, who was the kindest soul she had ever encountered. If they were with Kaz, he couldn’t be the demon he tried to be. At least not like Pekka. I should go. I should have gone a long time ago.

“Deal.”

In the weeks following, Kaz came every day to discuss every aspect of the Emerald Palace with her, in the hopes that he could get her out. Getting her out of the building would be simple, but keeping her from being hunted by the Dime Lions for the rest of her days would be complicated. The plan would have to be completely airtight, so Kaz needed time.

A few days later, Jesper was at the window speaking with her. The other members of the dregs would often visit along with Kaz and stay to talk to her, or they might come in his place. Today, after describing her entire tailoring process to Kaz, Y/N was speaking to Jesper about music.

“It’s like this huge golden machine made by Fabrikators, right?” Y/N smiled as she excitedly spoke. “And you take this small disc, place it on the machine and put the needle on it, and then music comes out!”

Jesper grinned at her. He loved the way she looked when she was excited about something. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before.”

“Well, it’s wonderful,” she sighed, “Not to mention there’s thousands of the disc things, and each one is a different song. I wish more people had them than just the rich men who can afford it. I mean I wish I could have one.”

The two had been known to discuss things that had nothing to do with her escape, which Kaz had scolded them for plenty of times. But they enjoyed talking to each other, and they often got distracted. Odd topics of discussion were bound to happen whether they liked it or not. However, when Jesper realized that they had strayed from their original reason for speaking, he redirected the conversation.

“So, you get tailored nearly everyday?”

“Well, whenever anyone comes to see me. Only Pekka knows what I really look like. And you and your friends. Maybe it's a security thing.” She told him, thinking as she spoke. “Also, if anyone sees me who isn’t supposed to, I’m meant to drug them so they forget. Pekka really just does not want anyone knowing I’m here. Some bastard might try to steal me away.”

Jesper smirked at her. “I cannot imagine who would ever do something like that.”

Visits were going relatively well. Kaz had nearly enough information to finalize his plan for her escape, so he visited less and less. Y/N was becoming a solid member of the Crows even though she had so little time with them. She matched Jesper’s humor, built trust with Inej, and had a shared anger for Pekka with Kaz.

Today was Inej’s day to go visit Y/N, and she was running rather late. She knew the girl had mentioned not to visit after the sun went down, but Inej had been busy all day and could only find time to make it to the window after dark. When she got there, however, she realized why Y/N had made the warning.

When she looked through the window, she noticed that Y/N was not alone. When she looked closer, she realized Y/N was with Pekka Rollins. Luckily, Inej was the Wraith, she could watch what happened next without being seen.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to eat your dinner,” She heard Rollins speak first, in the most condescending tone she had ever heard. “Not after I worked so hard to get your favorite.”

Y/N sat on her cot, avoiding eye contact. “Not hungry.”

Rollins grabbed her by the jaw roughly, forcing her to look at him. Inej noticed tears shining in Y/N’s eyes. “Not hungry, hm? We both know that’s not true.” He laughed, with a terrifying lack of humor behind it. “Why are you lying to me, canary?”

The girl shook her head as the tears fell down her face.

“Your tears will do you no good.” Rollins snarled. “Do not forget what you are.” He paused, raising a brow. “What are you?”

The girl sniffled and didn’t respond.

“What are you?” He shouted and raised his voice this time, causing her to shake.

“A canary.” She whispered out.

“Good, and if I give you a song...”

He raised her chin higher, prompting her to finish his words. “I sing it.” The words fell from her lips like something rehearsed, but unbearably painful.

He gave a tight lipped smile. “Right. Don’t forget it again.” He sat down next to her and handed her the plate she had sat on the table beside her. “Now you eat and I’ll tell you about the man who is coming here tonight.”

Inej felt like she was going to throw up as she travelled the rooftops of Ketterdam back to the Crow Club. She knew Y/N was being mistreated at the Emerald Palace, but seeing it take place was something entirely apart.

As she walked in the doors of the club she felt a presence beside her. She looked over to see Jesper walking with her. He must have been guarding the door. He was waiting to ask a question.

“Yes, Jesper, I went to see her.” Inej spoke to him, her voice rough.

“And?”

“And Pekka Rollins was there.”

Jesper stopped in his tracks. “Saints, is she ok? Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Inej assured, “But I’m not sure about Y/N. He is anything but gentle with her. And he forced her to eat the dinner he gave her. I don’t think she’s gonna be able to avoid the drugs they give her anymore. If only she could remember to take an antidote before her mind goes.”

“Shit, we need to get her out of there, soon.”

The pair once again went to Kaz to discuss the girl, only to find him at his desk, writing furiously with two bottles in front of him.

“Kaz, Inej -“ Jesper was cut off.

“She told me how she’s been killing all those people.” Kaz stared at the bottle in front of him, observing it scientifically.

Inej and Jesper looked at each other before looking back at their boss. What was he on about?

“I don’t understand.” Inej had a confused look on her face as she tried her best to make eye contact with Kaz. She wanted to try and read him like she knew she could, but right now the man in front of her was like a blank page.

“Y/N. She gives them a liquid of her own design, but it isn’t poisonous,” He kept his eyes trained on his work, “At least not until she makes it poisonous. She can give someone poison hours in advance but it kills them right at the perfect moment. Right when she can get away. And, once they are dead, she can change it back to something nontoxic. It’s flawless: not a single trace is left.”

“Great, boss,” Jesper said, growing impatient. “Can we talk about why we are here?”

Kaz frowned, “What, because you want to get Y/N out sooner? She’s in a terrible situation?”

“Exactly,” Inej pleaded.

“If I tried to save everyone in the Barrel I’d be broke by dawn.” Kaz said, looking back at his work. Inej and Jesper stood there in shock. “If you don’t have anything else to say…”

Inej placed a hand up to keep Jesper from exploding. “Kaz, you told us that you would help her escape.”

“I needed information, Wraith, you wouldn’t help me if I told the truth.”

Jesper spoke up, “So you lied to us? And what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She’s prepared to leave the Emerald Palace tonight.” Kaz tsked. “I doubt she’ll make it two feet out the building without our help. Solves all of my problems.”

Without another word, Inej slipped out of the room, leaving the boys to fight. Through the walls, she heard muffled shouting.

“How could you? You act like you have nothing you believe in but really you are so terrible that you’ve made yourself your own Saint!” Jespers voice was desperate, filled with rage. The betrayal he felt was clear even though he was muffled. He sniffed. “Put too much faith in that saint and he’ll kill your friends.”

Inej cringed, hating the harsh truths her friend was sending toward her boss. She had always known partnership with Kaz would mean conflict, but it also meant freedom. She and Jesper often commented on their cold-hearted boss. “We are both too good for him.” Jesper would laugh as he said it, but now it seemed to be a reason to leave. But where would they go? When it came to Kaz Brekker, no one was better, and no one was worse.

One thing was for certain, Inej was not going to let her friend die. She had just pulled Y/N up from the grave, and she’d be damned if she let Kaz Brekker push her back in. If he was so certain the girl would be dead by tomorrow, she’d get to her before then. She didn’t have time for Kaz’s lectures and Jesper’s shouting. There was a life at stake. She begged the Saints to help her, but deep down she knew that this was up to her and her knives. If Inej couldn’t save Y/N, the Wraith would.

When she reached the Emerald Palace, a nauseous feeling spread throughout her stomach. She willed her hands to stop shaking, but the tremor remained. She reached the window after carefully checking her surroundings and gasped at what she saw. Nothing remained in Y/N’s room but a white letter and dark ash, both standing out against the gray stone floor. Inej frowned in confusion. So, she is gone. Where could she be?

Y/N was a smart girl, she could be out of Ketterdam by now. However, she had barely had any human contact and had been drugged and manipulated for years. If she was not already found by Pekka Rollins, she could have already been killed on the street. But no one knew who she was, and only Pekka and the Crows knew what she truly looked like. She had become one huge question.

Suddenly, Inej remembered something.. Specifically, a conversation she had with Y/N not long ago.

Inej, this might be the worst thing I’ve ever made. She had said, a fire in her eyes.

Then why are you smiling? Inej replied.

Look! Y/N had pulled a thin glass bottle of a swirling liquid and a small flower out from behind her back. She then poured a drop of the bottle on the flower, which disintegrated into a pile of ash within seconds.

Saints. Inej was amazed.

Wild, huh? Footsteps came from the stairwell in the corner of the room. Shit. Inej, go. Inej hesitated. Go! He’ll see you!

Now, looking at the large pile of ash on the floor of the room, Inej realized what had happened.

“Saints,” She whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “She’s drunk it.”

She heard footsteps approaching in the alley, and immediately grabbed two of her knives, ready to protect herself.

“Easy,” Jesper appeared, holding his hands out toward her. “It’s just me.”

Inej lowered her knives as she stared back at him. “We’re too late, Jes. She’s gone.”

He laughed, nervous. “No, she wouldn’t.” He lowered himself down to the window. “No.”

Inej stood up and looked up at the stars, praying to any Saint that she could think of that she wasn’t dead. That her friend was out there somewhere. Alive. “Jesper, we need to get out of here.”

“But,” Jesper paused, his voice weak. “She was just here.”

“She’s not anymore.” Inej looked at him with pity. She could tell how much the girl had meant to him. “I’m sorry.”

“She was just here.” He repeated, voice cracks littering his words.

Inej grabbed his hand, forcing him out of this frozen state. “I know, Jes. I’m sorry.”

[elvish-sky]

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

A.N: OK GUYS- i literally tied my hand to my sister’s to figure out some of the logistics of movement for this. She thinks I’m crazy now. But I loved this request! I’m currently catching up on requests and also dealing with some personal issues, and I haven’t been happy with anything I’ve written in a really long time, but I’m really happy with this! It would mean so much to me if you guys liked it too, I put so much work into this and I’m so proud of it!

also- a thousand thank you’s to @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth for giving me an idea for this fic. i appreciate you letting me use it so so much. thank you.

Requested by @raineeace on Tumblr: Your recent request you wrote was beyond cute! You’re an amazing writer, so catch me reading the rest of your LOTR content !! I also wanted to request something as well! Can you do a Faramir x Fem!Reader and Gandalf and/or Pippin try to get them together? I loved the how you wrote Aragorn as cupid, and I wanted to ask if you could make these two matchmakers as well? Lots of fluff please and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,334

Pairing: Faramir x Reader

Summary: You and Faramir have been mooning over each other for months, but nothing has come of Pippin’s efforts to get you together. What happens when Pippin enlists the help of a certain wizard?

Warnings: Fluff, Humor

****

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

Pippin leaned over the banister, watching you and Faramir walk together below. You smiled at something the man said, then nodding your head goodbye and walking away. The hobbit watched as Faramir stood there, watching you go, looking oddly lonely.

Pippin had been watching/trying to get you and Faramir together for a while now. He had first noticed the chemistry and romantic tension between you when everyone was gathered waiting for Frodo to heal, and decided to do something about it. Now, months later, nothing had happened. Pippin thought that at this point neither of you was ever going to confess your very obvious feelings for the other.

At least, not without some extra help.

“Come on, Gandalf, please?”

The wizard shook his head, “I cannot believe you are still going on about this.”

“They need the help,” Pippin told him, “Plus, getting them to admit their feelings to each other would help them, and ease your exasperation with the two of them for walking in circles around each other!”

The wizard shook his head. “I’m not going to help you with this!”

“It’s for the greater good! Can you really stand to see the two of them mooning over each other all the time?”

“That’s true. It’s getting ridiculous,” Gandalf sighed, “Fine. I’ll help. Where do we start?”

Back in your room, you lifted your head from your desk as a loud, hobbitish whoop rand through the air. You chalked it up to Pippin hitting another elf, probably Legolas, with an apple, and returned to your work. You hoped that it wasn’t Legolas that Pippin had hit, because the last time that happened Legolas had promptly eaten the apple, and Pippin had bemoaned the loss of his snack for weeks.

That night, you left your room, closing the door behind you and setting off down the hallway. You’d barely made it fifteen feet when another door opened right in front of you and Faramir came rushing out, crashing into you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I feel terrible!”

“It’s okay!”

You shuffled your feet, nervous to be so close to the person you’d been in love with for months.

It was also weird how close your rooms were- Aragorn had given everyone from the Fellowship and friends special quarters after his coronation. You could understand why the hobbits’ rooms were so close together, but wondered why Aragorn had placed you and Faramir almost directly across from each other. Probably because the two of you worked together the closest on negotiations with the other kingdoms.

Eventually, Faramir broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

“So, late to dinner?”

You smiled, glad he’d spoken first.

“Yeah. I got so focused on drafting that new trade agreement with the Iron Hills that I didn’t realize how low the sun was.”

He nodded. “I completely understand, I’ve done that far too many times, working on something like that or staying outside the city for far too long.”

Laughing, you looped your arm through his. “We should get to dinner before Aragorn yells at us.”

You entered the hall together, pushing open the doors to see your friends all seated around the high table. Dinners with the group had started when everyone was waiting for Frodo to heal and wake up and had just continued on, everyone reluctant to give up the time spent together.

Letting go of Faramir’s arm, you took your usual seat between him and his brother.

“What prompted you two to arrive together?” Boromir winked at you as he whispered.

“Huh? Oh, we just bumped into each other in the hall.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirked as he spoke.

“Pass the potatoes, please, Boromir.” You were determined to change the subject, and, happily, it seemed to have worked.

What you didn’t notice was Gandalf staring intently at you and Faramir, muttering something under his breath as Pippin watched gleefully.

You yawned, pushing your empty plate away with a groan.

“I’m stuffed. And tired. I think I’ll head to my rooms.”

Everyone said goodbye, and you pushed back your chair and went to stand.

But you couldn’t.

There were handcuffs on, one on your wrist, and the other on Faramir’s. And they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Who handcuffed us?” You were bewildered.

“Gandalf…” Faramir glared at the wizard.

Gandalf glanced behind himself, and, seeing no one, turned back around with an innocent expression.

“What could I have done to make this happen?” He gestured to your hands, still handcuffed together.

Faramir said, “I don’t know, but it had to have been you!”

“Ask yourself this, Faramir. What motivation could I have possibly had? I think one you probably just ran astray of something else?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, then, how do we make it stop?”

“Only time will tell,” the wizard nodded sagely.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You exclaimed.

“Just stay together? Do everything together?” Pippin looked all too pleased by this.

“Fine. C’mon Faramir.”

The man rose, and together you marched out of the hall, handcuffs clanking, never moving further than five inches apart.

Once in the hallway, you turned to Faramir, panicked.

“What do we do? We’re stuck five inches, or less, apart from each other for Eru knows how long, we both have important duties.”

“And there’s going to the bathroom, and sleeping, and eating..” he was just as freaked out as you.

You turned to each other.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Y/N, Faramir, chill.”

You tried to turn, but the clanking and tug on your wrist stopped you as you spun the wrong way, twisting yourself with Faramir.

“Ok, no wait,” he backed up, accidentally taking you with him.

“Here, go this way, move your hand left.”

“No, no, my left, my left.”

“Spin this way?”

“You go under, I go over?”

“Aha! Yes, that worked!” You high-fived each other clunkily, and turned, making sure to bring your arms over your heads so that your hands fell back again.

“Oh, Pippin! What were you saying?”

Pippin smiled at Faramir. “I can help.”

“Would you mind telling us how?”

“You just have to accept it!”

“WHAT?” You screamed in unison.

Back in the hall, Aragorn winced at the echo of the yell.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” He questioned the wizard.

“Of course not,” Gandalf replied, “but it was not mine. It was all Pippin, and if anything goes wrong that’s who we’ll blame.”

Legolas chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll leave it all on Pippin.”

Boromir raised a mug of ale. “TO-”

He was cut off by a resounding shush, and, chastened, began again.

“To Y/N and Faramir”

Everyone echoed the sentiment, quietly, and clinked their mugs.

Back in the hallway, you and Faramir were glaring at Pippin.

“You want us to just live like this?”

“Yes! You’ll be fine, maybe it’ll wear off soon, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Ughhhhhh,” you stormed away, dragging Faramir behind you.

Approaching your door, you were suddenly stopped when Faramir halted behind you.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet. “Whose room are we staying in?”

You considered. “Which one is bigger? We’ll need all the maneuvering space we can get.”

You walked together over to your doorway, poking your heads inside before moving back to his.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” He asked.

“Yeah. You have more space and a bigger bed. Let’s just go back to my room so that I can grab a few things if I’ll be staying with you indefinitely.”

“How are we going to do this?”

You stared at Faramir’s bed.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You hadn’t thought this situation could get any more awkward, but there it was. The crown jewel of awkwardness, coming out to torment you. It had been bad enough attempting to change into your nightclothes, which you’d managed by turning your backs to each other to put them on, and only wearing one sleeve. But this was worse.

You decided to just go for it, and climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Your movement pulled the handcuffs so that Faramir went with you, and you ended up on one side of the bed, him on the other, hands cuffed together in the center.

“This is not very comfortable,” Faramir observed.

That was true. You were lying flat on your back when you always slept on your side, and you were literally handcuffed to another person. Unable to stand the absurdity of it all, you broke out into laughter.

Faramir joined in, and you laughed together until you had tears in your eyes. His smile was so bright in the dimly lit room, and you could listen to his laugh for a thousand years without getting sick of it.

When the laughter subsided, you decided nothing could be more uncomfortable than the position your body was currently stuck in.

“Do you usually sleep on your side?”

Faramir nodded, looking a little confused.

“Ok. I’m going to try something, it’s going to be really awkward, but we might actually be able to sleep.”

“I trust you, Y/N. Whatever you’re going to do will be fine.”

You smiled at him, internally still freaking out that you were sharing a bed with Faramir. But there was no time to panic, your shoulder was killing you.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped so that the handcuffed arm was now underneath you, chain stretching up to where Faramir’s arm hovered.

“Would you be alright with putting your arm over my waist?” You wanted to make sure he was comfortable with all this.

Craning your neck, you saw a faint blush creeping up his face in the dusky light.

“Only if it’s ok with you,” he seemed nervous.

You were too, but you nodded and felt him slowly settle his arm around your waist.

Once it was there, his hand gently hanging near your stomach, you both relaxed, letting out sighs as the tension left your bodies simultaneously.

And then you giggled. Again, because this was just too ridiculous.

He laughed too. “You alright?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bumping into his chest as he sucked in a breath.

“I’m good.”

It took a while for each of you to fall asleep, brains spinning with thoughts of the person next to you. But eventually, you did.

It was the best you had slept in years.

The next day, the two of you began to figure out how to go around with your hands stuck together. You ate by spooning the food into each other’s mouths one at a time, which you were pretty sure Boromir was sketching to memorialize forever.

You blinked your eyes open the next day to sunlight streaming through the windows, and soft breathing behind you. Carefully, you turned around so that your hands now rested between your bodies.

Faramir’s face was glowing with the light of the morning sun, hair spread on the pillow. You’d never seen him so peaceful, and he looked gorgeous like some Vala come across the world to Gondor.

Unable to resist the impulse, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

You quickly moved back, only to notice that the weight on your hand was gone.

You looked down.

The handcuffs were gone.

“Faramir! Faramir!” You shook him awake.

“What, Y/N?” He asked groggily.

His morning voice was perfection itself, and you had to bring yourself back to reality.

“The handcuffs are gone. Look!”

He shot up at this, looking down at his now-free hand.

“Wow! We should probably go let Gandalf know.”

You nodded. “Meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and the last thing you saw as you closed the door was Faramir marveling at his now-free wrist.

Later, in the room that Gandalf had claimed as his office right next to the large hall where you usually ate, you sat together.

The wizard inquired, “What exactly happened?”

“The handcuffs were gone when I woke up,” Faramir told him.

“That shouldn’t have just happened. They were supposed to disappear when a physical manifestation of your affection for each other happened.”

“You did this?” You were outraged.

“Yes, Y/N, I did.”

Sensing that you were about to interrupt in outrage again, he added on.

“It should have been a physical manifestation of affection that was not circumstantial because of the handcuffs.”

You sighed, knowing what it was.

Faramir turned to you. “Do you know what it could have been?”

You stared straight at the floor.

“I… kissed your cheek when I woke up this morning.”

He blinked at you, shocked. Gandalf discreetly slipped out the door.

“You just looked so handsome in the sunlight with your hair glowing and I couldn’t resist and I’m so sorry and I’ll leave Gondor right now and never come back and what you must think of me no-”

“Y/N.”

You stopped rambling, looking at Faramir. He leaned closer to you, and in the depths of his eyes, you saw nothing but love. He paused for a moment, head tilted as if asking for your permission.

You nodded your head.

Faramir moved closer, tilting your chin up so that his lips met yours, kissing you oh-so-gently. Then somehow you were standing, lips still touching his as he surged closer and kissed you harder, like all the passion and feeling in the world was just pouring out of him and into you.

Finally, you broke apart, smiles on both your faces.

“I think I love you.,” you said, then clapped a hand over your mouth.

Faramir smirked. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you too.”

You gazed at each other for a few moments, before you grabbed his hand.

“Now, let’s go kill a wizard.”

Opening the doors to the hallway, you saw said wizard suddenly disappear.

You corrected yourself.

“Let’s go kill that wizard once he returns from wherever he’s hidden himself.”

Faramir laughed. “Let’s kill Gandalf later. For now, would you like to go for a walk?”

You smiled at him, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Lead on, my love.”

Everything tag❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fic tag: @eru-vande @annkdarar @lust4crust @the-reformed-ringwraith @ethereal-earendil

[calwrites]

one of those days (s.r.)

Summary: You’ve had a really awful day. Luckily, your boyfriend always seems to make life better.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader

word count: 5k

we’re going to ignore civil war and just pretend everyone is a big, happy family in this one

request from @maximeevansblog

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

You know those days where everything is going so wrong that you can’t even bother being upset about it anymore? As you stood on the sidewalk, staring at the coffee you had just paid too much money for and then dropped after taking three steps out of the coffee shop, you realized that your day had officially reached that point. It shouldn’t have been surprising that your day would turn out like this. You had started off the morning with a new case. One that was actually going to earn you money this time, which should have made you excited. Except your client was suing the Department of Damage Control, which meant going another round against Tony Stark and his legal team. Somehow, you had become the go-to lawyer for New Yorkers suing the DODC. While you and Tony got along on a personal level, you most certainly did not on a professional level.

You had barely had time to read over the new case before going to a meeting about another case you were working on. It was very obvious to everyone involved that your client didn’t have a very strong case, but having to deal with smarmy corporate lawyers rubbing it in was almost unbearable. Still, you managed to cut a deal that was better than anything your client would get in court, though you thought that they weren’t likely to see it that way. You were right. So that probably should have been the low point of the day. 

It wasn’t.

A large bouquet of your least favorite type of flower was sitting at your desk when you got back to your office. Unsurprisingly, a note from Tony was attached, which meant that he had heard about your newest case. Underneath the ugly bouquet were two letters from potential clients asking for your help pro bono. You would take the cases. You always took the pro bono cases, even though you didn’t have the time and could really use the money.

The text was what you thought was going to make you lose it. You had stared at the screen for a minute, wavering between wanting to throw it at the wall and wanting to lay your head down and start crying. Steve was stuck at the compound upstate and wouldn’t be able to make it into the city for date night. He didn’t offer a reason, but he rarely ever did when Avengers things were concerned. There were some things that he didn’t think you needed to know, and you were perfectly fine not knowing them. Still, you had been looking forward to seeing Steve. He had been stuck at the compound for most of the week, and you really missed him. At least he had promised a weekend at the compound, which was the closest thing to a vacation you ever had, to make it up to you.

You and Steve had been dating for a few years now. Though he technically lived at the compound, the two of you basically lived together. Whenever he wasn’t upstate, he was staying in your little Brooklyn apartment. Your friends often teased you that it wasn’t fair that you were the one to snag Captain America when he wasn’t even your favorite Howling Commando. It had been Dum Dum Dugan, but only because eight year old you thought his name was the funniest.

According to Steve, he had known the minute that he saw you, or actually heard you, that he was going to fall in love with you. He hadn’t even opened the door to Tony’s office before he was able to hear you ripping Tony a new one. Perhaps storming into Stark Towers to yell at Tony Stark wasn’t the smartest move, but you were young, it was your first big case, and you were fired up. Plus, the DODC needed to get it together because whatever system they had at that time wasn’t working. You ended up winning the case. Steve had known then and there that he had to know you. And Tony had decided that he needed you on his legal team. Only one of them got their way, and it wasn’t Tony. Not that he wasn’t still trying, you thought, glancing at the ugly flowers again.

It was impossible to be mad at Steve for missing date night because he had superhero responsibilities, but it still bummed you out. You managed to plough through the rest of the afternoon before heading home. As you passed your favorite coffee shop, you thought that you would treat yourself to some caffeine, since you would probably be up late working on the new pro bono cases. Of course, you had dropped the coffee almost immediately, which you took as a sign to just chalk up the day as a loss and head home as quickly as possible before lightning struck you or a tornado swept you up or aliens abducted you.

Morning came too quickly. Though you had gone to sleep earlier than you had anticipated, it was still hard to peel your eyes open. You glared blearily at the clock. It told you that it was still early in the morning, so why were you awake?

The answer came in the form of the creak of your bedroom door. You barely had time to panic about the possibility of an intruder before Steve poked his head in, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight of your sleepy confusion.

“Surprise, honey,” he said quietly.

“What are you doing here?” Despite your confusion, you reached out to him, pulling him onto the bed and snuggling into his chest.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled deeper into the bed. “I felt bad that I had to cancel on date night after you had such a bad day, so I thought I’d surprise you. I’m taking you out and spoiling you today before we head upstate for the weekend.”

“I have work today, Steve,” you protested, though you were too happy to see Steve to really worry about work.

“I’ve already talked to your boss, and he told me that you were taking a half day today. I managed to talk him into giving you the whole day off. One of the perks of being Captain America.”

You hit Steve’s arm lightly. “I don’t know why everyone thinks you're such a golden boy. You’re a bad influence, Rogers.” Steve’s loud laugh caused your heart to soar. You’d stay in bed with Steve all day if you could.

As if he was reading your mind, Steve said, “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a bit? We have a reservation at your favorite brunch place in a few hours. You could get at least another hour of sleep.”

“I won’t argue with you, but you have to stay in bed with me.”

“I like that deal.” Steve kissed the top of your head gently as you snuggled into his side, already drifting back off to sleep.

An hour later, you woke up feeling much more rested. Opening your eyes slowly, you immediately found Steve gazing at you.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“No.”

“You’re a bad liar, babe.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re sleeping, honey.”

“Ok, Edward Cullen, calm down.” You didn’t really want to get out of bed, but you forced yourself to stand and stretch, leaning down quickly to give Steve a peck on the lips.

“I don’t understand that reference.” It was hard not to laugh at the small pout on Steve’s face as he watched you walk into the bathroom.

“That’s because you refuse to watch Twilight with me. Now, I need to get ready for our day out. You can stay there and pour, or you can take a shower with me.” You didn’t bother waiting to see if Steve would follow you, confident that he was already scrambling out of bed.

After your shower, Steve insisted on picking out an outfit for you while you did your hair and makeup. Once the two of you were ready, you left the apartment and walked down to the restaurant, holding hands the entire time.

It was sometimes a bit strange when you and Steve went out in public. Steve managed to blend in pretty well when he was dressed in casual clothes, but he was occasionally recognized. Many New Yorkers had grown fairly used to seeing Avengers out and about and were content to leave them alone, but tourists were prone to getting over excited and star struck. Luckily, Steve flew under the radar during brunch. You thought that the waiter probably recognized him, but the only sign he gave was charging you for only half of your meal.

As you ate, you caught Steve up on your work, and he told you about some of the stuff the other Avengers had been up to. Bucky was settling into the team well, which you knew was a big relief for Steve. You had only met Bucky a couple times. He wanted to make sure that all of the Hydra brainwashing was gone before you spent much time together, despite both you and Steve trying to tell him that you trusted him.

After brunch, Steve let you drag him into some of your favorite stores. He played the doting boyfriend as you tried on clothes, showering you with compliments and even picking out a few pieces that he thought would look good on you. Despite your protests, he bought you way more than you were planning on getting, and silenced you with kisses when you tried to tell him you didn’t need it all.

You had assumed that you would head back to your apartment to drop it all off and then head up to the compound, but Steve led you into a nail salon on your way home and insisted on paying for you to get your nails done.

“You’re doing way too much, Steve. Honestly, we could have just gone to read in the park and it would have been a perfect day,” you told him. He looked a bit funny sitting on a small chair surrounded by shopping bags.

“I told you that I wanted to spoil you, honey. You work too hard. You deserve a day all about you.” You were about to protest more when your stomach let out a loud growl, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. Apparently all of that shopping made you work up an appetite. “Wait right there,” Steve laughed as he stood up and made his way out of the nail salon. As if you had much of a choice, considering a woman had just started painting your nails.

The lady had just finished your first hand when the door opened and Steve walked back in, a fast food bag in his hand.

“I got the feeling you were hungry,” he teased as he sat back down next to you. He opened the bag and dug out a couple of fries.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something, babe,” you laughed, nodding your head at your hands that were splayed out on the table.

“That’s why I’m going to feed you,” Steve said as if it was obvious. He held the fries up to your mouth. You shook your head in amusement, but you ate the fries anyway. You knew that you were incredibly lucky to have a boyfriend like Steve, who was willing to sit and feed you fries and chicken nuggets as you got your nails done.

“You’re the best. You know that right?”

“Are you just saying that because I got you food?”

“No. I’m saying it because I love you.”

Steve’s smile spread shyly across his face. “I love you too.”

The two of you had finished the food by the time your nails were done. Steve once again took up all of your shopping bags, and the two of you walked back to your apartment. You packed quickly, eager to leave. To your delight, Steve had ridden his motorcycle into the city rather than taking a car, so you got to press yourself into his back as the two of you rode up to the compound. You loved riding the motorcycle with Steve. It was often too windy and loud to really talk, so you got to enjoy each other’s presence in silence.

“Where is everyone?” you asked when you got to the compound. Normally, you ran into at least one other person on your way to Steve’s room, but it was like a ghost town.

Steve shrugged. “Maybe they’re out. Or training. I think most people should be here this weekend though. They’re all looking forward to seeing you.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you had been nervous about meeting all of the Avengers. Your worth had been needless, though, as all of the Avengers had been happy to meet the mystery girl who was helping Captain America settle into the 21st century. Now, you could comfortably say that many of the superheroes were some of your best friends.

“Weird,” you muttered, but you weren’t really too concerned. They all had their own lives, so you couldn’t really expect them to be sitting around waiting for you all the time.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Steve had decided that the two of you were making your favorite dinner, though you didn’t really do much. You sat on the counter and watched as Steve cooked. Music from the 40s floated gently through the room. You knew from Steve’s slightly wistful smile that he was remembering his old life. It broke your heart a little bit whenever he got quiet like that. You could never understand what he went through, but you hoped that you helped make it more bearable for him.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts and made you realize that you had been staring at him.

“You,” you answered simply.

“Me? I’m flattered.”

“Do you miss it? How your life used to be?” It was a subject you tended to skirt around because you were afraid of the answer.

Steve was silent for a minute, his face introspective. “I used to wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t been frozen. Or if I hadn’t been picked for the serum at all, I guess. Now, I don’t think there’s any point in that. I can’t change what happened. I don’t think I would even if I could. I have everything I could ever need here.” Steve took your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles gently.

“There’s nothing you miss? The food? The clothes? The dancing?”

“Food is much better in this century. We used to boil everything. And we can still dance now just fine, honey.” To prove his point, he stepped back and dragged you off the counter. He pulled you against him, and the two of you swayed gently. You weren’t sure how many songs you danced to before the oven timer went off. Steve wrapped up in a hug and kissed you deeply before pulling away to get the food.

Dinner was delicious. Steve’s cooking had made great strides the last few years. You insisted on clearing the table while he got dessert ready. The two of you sat and chatted as you ate your dessert. At one point, Steve laughed so hard at something you said that he knocked his fork off the table. Shaking your head fondly, you bent down to pick it up.

When you sat back up, you were confused to find that Steve wasn’t in his chair across from you. Instead, he was kneeling on the ground next to you. You gasped, your hands flying up to cover your mouth, when you saw the small box in his hands.

“Y/N, you are the most amazing person I have ever met. I was a man lost in time before I met you. You’re my home. You’re the love of my life, and I hope that you’ll let me spend the rest of my life with you. Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you laughed, tears falling down your face. “Yes! Yes, of course, Steve.” He took your hand and gently slid the ring onto your finger. He had barely finished before you were throwing yourself into his arms. 

“I was so nervous,” Steve admitted. His voice was muffled slightly because his face was buried in your neck. “I’ve been trying to decide how to do this for so long. Tony offered to book a private island, but I thought that might be a bit much.”

“Just a bit,” you agreed. You pulled back slightly to kiss him. Your hand shook slightly as you held it out to look at the ring. “It’s gorgeous, Steve.”

“It was my mom’s.” Your head snapped up quickly, your eyes once again filling with tears. You hadn’t known that Steve had anything from his family. “Howard and Peggy managed to keep some of my stuff. I guess they never stopped hoping I’d come back.”

“I’m glad they did.” You leaned in again, letting yourself get lost in the kiss. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too. Now you have to win your next case so you can pay for the wedding. Unless you want Tony to pay.”

“I can’t even imagine what that wedding would be like,” you groaned. “You might need to get a real job.”

Lucky for Steve, it didn’t come to that. You won your next case. And the one after that. And the one after that. In fact, your career was on a high leading up to your wedding. Not that you needed much money for the wedding. It was a small affair, only close friends invited since neither of you had any family. On Steve’s side were all of the Avengers and their friends. On your side were your friends from school and some of your coworkers, all of whom looked a bit overwhelmed to be in the presence of so many superheroes. You and Steve decided to have the wedding at the compound so that you wouldn’t have to worry about security or paparazzi or anything like that.

“I’m nervous,” you groaned for the hundredth time that morning. “Why am I so nervous? I feel like I’m going to be sick.” 

“You better not be sick. You just got your makeup done,” Nat pointed out dryly.

“And you need to get in your dress soon so you’re not late to your own wedding,” Wanda added.

You and Steve had agreed on having small wedding parties, so Nat and Wanda were your only two bridesmaids, while Bucky and Sam were Steve’s groomsmen. You opened your mouth to respond, but quickly clamped your lips together and rushed over to the toilet, making it just in time to avoid making a mess on the floor. Fortunately, Wanda was able to use her powers to hold your hair back.

“Are you sure nerves aren’t the only reason you’re feeling sick?” Nat asked as you sat back. “I noticed that you didn’t have anything to drink at your bachelorette party.”

Wanda’s eyes grew almost comically wide. “Oh my gosh, Y/N! Are you pregnant?”

Your mind whirled as you tried to come up with a way to spin this, but you realized it was pointless. “You can’t tell Steve.”

“He doesn’t know?” Nat asked. You felt it was a bit hypocritical of her to be judging you for keeping a secret when she was an actual spy, but you decided to let that slide.

“I didn’t want to tell him until I was sure and then he was so stressed about making sure the wedding was perfect. I didn’t want to make him more stressed.”

“This is amazing, Y/N,” Wanda squealed, wrapping you in a hug. After a second, you felt Nat’s arms circle around you too. “Now let’s go get you married.”

Any nerves that you had melted away when you saw Steve standing at the end of the aisle. His eyes filled with tears immediately when he saw you, causing you to become misty eyed too. You tried to hold the tears back, knowing Nat and Wanda would kill you if you ruined your makeup so quickly. However, you lost that battle once Steve started to say his vows, his voice breaking with emotion.

Most of the non-Avengers guests left after staying at the reception for a couple of hours because they didn’t want to be driving back into the city late. Once they were all gone, Sam started urging you and Steve to start opening up your presents. Eventually, you had to give in.

“Let’s see whose gifts are lame,” Sam cheered as everyone took a seat. The first gift that Sam declared lame was from Scott, who claimed that he had shrunk your gift to make transporting it from San Francisco easier and then lost it somewhere in his room.

“Cmon, small fry! Just admit that you didn’t buy anything,” Sam teased. Scott tried to defend himself, but soon everyone was piling on. You had to move on to the next present to put him out of his misery. Most of the others had given you things you mentioned needing for the bigger apartment you hoped to get soon. Even before you knew you were pregnant, you and Steve had decided that it might be time to upgrade from your small, one bedroom apartment.

Peter was a bit embarrassed by his gift. He couldn’t exactly afford to buy anything fancy. He was a high school student after all. Instead, he had made some sort of toaster, microwave, air fryer hybrid that he assured you didn’t explode...anymore. You weren’t sure how confident you were in that, but you acted thrilled anyways.

Vision bought you what he assured you was the safest baby essentials. You almost choked on your water when Steve opened the box for the crib, which Vision told you he would put together. Everyone else was too busy laughing to notice the panicked looks you, Nat, and Wanda shared. There were a lot of jokes about how Vision must be eager for some kids running around the compound, but he didn’t seem to understand why everyone was laughing. You were sure that he had somehow used his super robot brain to figure out that you were pregnant, but apparently he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else.

Tony insisted on going last, of course. His gift was a world class realtor showing you some of the best apartments in New York, which Tony insisted he would pay for. Steve tried to refuse, but you stopped him.

“We’ll think about it,” you said. Steve looked at you in surprise. Since the Avengers didn’t get paid, Steve usually had to rely on Tony’s money, but you were the one who was always insisting on paying for things yourself.

“We will?”

You shrugged. “There’s no way we’ll get a fancy penthouse or anything, but we could use a good realtor. And let’s face it, Tony will find a way to end up paying for most of it anyways.” You knew that your family would no doubt spend a lot of time at the compound, but you wanted a nice place in the city where your kids could go and be normal kids. If accepting Tony’s help was what it took to ensure that your family would have a nice place to live, you were willing to live with that. Plus, not having to worry about rent would allow you to take more pro bono work. 

Everyone sat around chatting for a while after the presents were done. Steve had you tucked into his side as the two of you lounged on a couch and watched your friends.

“You wanna get out of here?” Steve whispered in your ear.

“I’ll have to ask my husband if that’s okay,” you teased, enjoying the chuckle you got out of Steve.

“I think he’ll be fine with it. Not that you ever listen to anything he says.” Steve stood, pulling you up with him. Your face burned when everyone started cheering the two of you on, but Steve just laughed and waved goodnight to them. The two of you walked through the compound to Steve’s room in comfortable silence. Tomorrow, you would head out for your honeymoon, so you were enjoying your last peaceful moments at home.

“Do you actually think we need Tony’s realtor?” Steve asked suddenly. “I thought you liked that place we saw the other week.”

“Are you trying to start our first marital fight?” you joked, trying to get Steve to drop it. There was no way to explain why you were second guessing the place you and Steve had both liked without explaining that it wasn’t as child-friendly as you would like.

“I’m serious, honey. What made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking about how a third floor walkup could make some things difficult. And that place isn’t that much bigger than where I live now. There are also much better neighborhoods. Maybe we could look for somewhere closer to a park with a few bedrooms in a building with an elevator.”

“A few bedrooms? Sounds like you're describing a mansion. This is the city we’re talking about.”

“I’m not asking for a penthouse or a townhouse or anything. Just something that isn’t very cramped.” You tried to pull away from Steve, but he wrapped you up in a big hug.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I just want to know what made you change your mind so much. I thought you said the third floor walkup would ensure we both stay in shape.”

You chewed on your lip thoughtfully, which made Steve know immediately that you were considering something important. Instead of answering, you grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him down the hallway and into his room. Once you shut the door, you turned to face him. He was alarmed slightly by the nervousness in your eyes. You and Steve hadn’t talked seriously about kids. You both wanted some, but it seemed like both of you thought about them in terms of the future, not right after getting married.

“I’m pregnant,” you said finally.

“What?” Steve had heard you perfectly, even though you had barely whispered it. Perks of being a super soldier. It looked like his brain was short circuiting, though.

“I’m pregnant,” you said again, louder this time. Slowly, you put your hands around Steve’s waist. “Steve? Babe, talk to me. Where’s your head at? I know we weren’t expecting to have kids so soon but-”

“This is amazing,” Steve breathed. He picked you up and spun you around. “Oh my gosh! This is amazing.” He gently set you back on your feet, then kneeled to kiss your stomach. “How long have you known? Does anyone else know?”

“I’ve only known for sure for about a week, but I was suspicious. Nat and Wanda know. And Vision, apparently.”

“That explains the crib,” Steve laughed breathlessly. He hugged you again.

“That explains the crib,” you agreed.

“And the apartment. Honey, I don’t care how much money Tony has to spend. Your kid is going to have the best place in all of New York City.”

“It doesn’t have to be the best. It just has to be home. And just so you know, you’re not allowed to miss the birth because you’re on a mission. You’re taking paternity leave as soon as I’m close to popping.” Steve laughed and agreed before picking you up and carrying you towards the bed.

Steve shouldn’t have been surprised by the text. Of course you would go into labor while he was across the country. You weren’t due for another three weeks, so you and Steve had both thought it would be safe for him to go on one last mission. It had been a quick one, luckily, so he had a chance to get there before you actually gave birth.

A few people gave him strange looks as he ran through the halls of the hospital, almost sliding past your room because he was going so fast. Though the looks might have been because he was still wearing his Captain America uniform.

You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw him stumble into the room. He seemed uninjured, which meant the mission was a success in your books. He was breathing heavily, not you knew it wasn’t from the running. Another perk of being a super soldier. Steve Rogers, who had fought actual aliens, was nervous.

“Thank god I made it,” he gasped, rushing over to grab your hand. “We broke about every speed limit on the way over. Sam thought I should just jump out of the plane and into the roof of the hospital, but I thought that might be a bit much.”

“Just a bit,” you agreed before being overtaken by another contraction. You squeezed Steve’s hand as your eyes screwed shut. “You made it just in time. I’m about to start pushing. I was going to ask them to go find a hot doctor to hold my hand.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Steve laughed, but he did grip your hand tighter. You smiled brightly at him. Despite what you said, it was such a relief to you that he had made it. Your smile faded when the doctor told you to push. This was the part you hadn’t been looking forward to.

Steve was on the edge of his seat next to you. He hated that there was nothing he could do to really make it easier, but he held your hand and reminded you to breathe.

Finally, you were able to collapse back into the pillows. You and Steve watched in amazement as the doctor placed the tiny, crying body in your arms.

“It’s a girl,” Steve breathed.

“It’s a girl,” you agreed. “And she’s perfect.”

“Yeah she is.” You turned to smile at Steve and realized that his eyes were already on you. He leaned in to gently press a kiss on your lips before bending down to press another on your daughter’s head.

You couldn’t help the tears of joy that ran down your face. You had the two most important people in the world with you now. You couldn’t ask for your life to be any more perfect.

[birdcoats]

wrote a little something that I thought was too short to post on my ao3 so you guys get it, have fun! It’s basically just a short take on anne saving marcy from the life support gatorade vat ft. some mind control/memory loss shenanigans. like i said, fun.

The girl is about Marcy’s age, she thinks. Around the same height at least. Curly brown hair pulled back into pigtails, brown eyes focused on the ground, cheeks scrubbed with dirt. 

Marcy tries to be cautious in her approach. She’s not doing much approaching to begin with. She’s nervous. Meeting other kids from her preschool class is one thing, but seeing one in the wild? That’s different. There’s no teachers watching, here. The brown-eyed, fluffy-haired girl could secretly be mean. 

Her hands wring themselves at the hem of her dress. She takes a tiny step forward. The toe of her shoe sends a rock clattering across the pavement. 

The girl looks up from her sidewalk chalk. Her mouth hangs open in a gasp when she sees Marcy. Then, it turns to a smile dotted with missing teeth. She pushes up on chalk-covered palms to stand. She brushes herself off, which leaves trails of pastel-colored dust on her clothes. Still bright-faced, the girl doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Hi!” she says, walking up to Marcy while waving. Marcy shies away. The girl isn’t deterred. “Do you wanna draw with me?” She points to the mass of haphazard scribbles behind her.

“S-sure.” Is it really that easy? The gap-toothed girl cheers, grabbing her by the hand and leading her over. Apparently so. 

“What’s your name?” She asks, bending down again to sift through her pile of chalk. 

“Marcy,” she answers. Her confidence builds the longer the girl goes without telling her to leave. “What’s yours?”

The chalkdust-covered girl smiles, handing Marcy a stick of green for grass to complement the blue sky she’s already drawn.

“Anne,” she says.

By sundown their names are printed together on each section of the sidewalk, under every drawing. Or sometimes written over and over just for the sake of writing them, seeing them real and together. They don’t know it yet, but their names are written somewhere else, too. A place that neither rain nor the footsteps of passersby can tamper with. A place that will send them answering to each other, time and time again, to the call of a familiar name. Until it’s etched so deeply in each of them, forgetting would be impossible.

If only what either of them thought “possible” had ended up mattering.

It’s dark. She doesn’t know where she is. It feels like floating. She’s been here for too long. The thought of waking up is too much to bear. She’s exerting enough energy to keep more than one being alive, as is.

If she strains enough, she can hear. The low hum of machinery is constant. But there’s also the sounds of footsteps. Of mumbled voices. Of clicks and hisses, though maybe that’s the machinery again. That’s what she would believe if pattern didn’t sound distinctly living. All the sounds are muffled. 

She can’t hear her own breathing. Should she be able to do that? If she were alive, probably. But she doubts she is. 

She’s in a stasis, she knows. Waiting to wake up, she assumes. It would make as much sense if she never did. If she stayed like this forever. It feels like forever. It feels like no time at all.  

There are sounds of a struggle. Those are new. Crashing, yelling, running and things breaking. The noise gets closer to where she is. Wherever she is. There’s nothing she can do. 

There is somebody else, somebody new, in the room with her.

“Marcy?” they cry out. 

Her eyes open. Not with recognition of the name, but with muscle memory at the sound. It must be her name, then? The girl in front of her, through translucent liquid and warped glass, seems to think so. 

The girl is about her- Marcy’s- height. Unruly hair and wide eyes. It’s difficult to see color. 

Her face contorts. She presses a hand to the other side of the glass. “What did he- I’m gonna get you out, hold on.”

There is nothing to hold on to. Marcy feels her eyes threatening to close again. 

Not before seeing a flash of bright blue, rippling through her confinement and through the panicked girl’s hair in a wave. For a moment, she doesn’t hear any sound. Then, the glass encasing her shatters, and she falls. Her vision blurs to black.  

The girl catches her before she reaches the ground. “Hey, hey, I gotcha,” she says. She removes the apparatus covering her nose and mouth. “Oh, shoot. You didn’t need that to breathe, did you?”

Marcy squints open her eyes again. It’s easier. She feels more like a person. The girl parts damp hair from in front of her face. Water drips from the edges. There’s water on the floor, water covering every wire and mechanism. Water trails from the girl’s eyes.

“I thought-” she chokes. “I thought you were dead...”

The voice builds in the part of Marcy’s body that still isn’t her own. From the coils of wire still wrapping her limbs and secured to her back. Her vision goes reddish-orange. Her ears fill with ringing. Something carries her out of the girl’s warm, shaking arms and onto the floor, wet and cold and strewn with glass. The words that fall from her mouth aren’t hers.

“She is.”

The girl’s mouth hangs open in a gasp. “No,” she whispers under her breath, over and over. She backs away, horrified. “Marcy...”

The scene jogs a memory, white-hot and painful. The same distraught girl, staring at her with disbelief written in her features. Crashing, screaming. Eyes blurry with tears. A familiar blackness.

Marcy hugs herself. Her head feels like it’s going to explode. The red tone of her surroundings flickers.

“Y- you hated her,” she manages. “Me. You hate me.”

The girl blinks. “No! I don’t. I could never, please just-”

She comes forward, reaches out. Marcy suddenly can’t see. She feels herself shove her away by the shoulder with more strength than someone her size should have.

When she comes to, she sees the girl crumpled on the floor, pushing herself up weakly. Words and actions fight inside of her, looking for a way out. She’s filled with them, cruel and violent and she could let them free just to hurt her. Would she? She’s done it before. Memories come back like a trickle of water breaking into a flood.

“I’m sorry.” She squeezes her eyes shut, grabs either side of her head with her hands. It doesn’t stop the noise in her skull. “I can’t- I didn’t mean to-” She falls to her knees. Glass shards cut through the thin fabric on her legs. Wires tighten around her shins. She blindly claws at them, trying to loosen their hold.

The girl, beaten up yet determined, understands. Memories of wordless communication, knowing what the other will say or do, fighting in tandem, phase to the front of Marcy’s mind.

In another blinding flash of blue, the girl is behind her, sword pulled from her belt. There’s a clean slice across the wires pulling at her. They flop onto the floor, just pieces of metal.

Marcy can breathe again. She sits up with a gasping breath. Her vision clears. She feels something uncomfortably lodged inside her chest, still, but for now, it’s at rest.

“Did that work? Please tell me that worked.” The girl approaches her, cautious. “Is it you?”

“I...” Marcy touches a hand to her face. “I think so.” She tries to stand.

“No, don’t.” The battered girl rushes over, sits down next to her. She takes her hands. “I can’t have you hurting yourself. I just got you back.”

Something pulls at Marcy. More memories slot into place. Of being kept from danger. Of losing and finding each other in a devastating cycle.

“I won’t,” she finds herself saying.

The girl chuckles sadly. “I’ve heard that one before.” She tries for a smile. Marcy remembers seeing it a million times and wanting to see it a million times more.

“Do you promise me?” the girl asks. She looks so tired.

“I promise,” Marcy says. She hopes it will mean something this time.

She’s pulled into a hug. The muscle memory that guides her in is slowly replaced with real memory. She’s done this before. For goodbyes and see-you-laters and tiny accomplishments. For joy and sadness, separations and reunions. For winning and losing. Most importantly, for never wanting to let go. For wishing they would always be real and together, never washed away by the pull of the tides, the course of the rain.

She knows it’s not realistic now. The stutter in her breathing, the thin lines of blood forming on her knees, are real enough. She’ll just spend one second longer pretending she can live in fantasy. One more second and then they’ll go.

A second passes. And then another. It’s cold. The grip around her is warm, familiar. It belongs to someone whose name is etched in a place Marcy can’t change. Somewhere real, because why would she have wanted to make up the heartbreak of always having known it?

She gives up in the strongest way she can, knowing she doesn’t deserve to be here, and accepting it anyway. She sighs, almost a sob, and sinks into Anne’s arms.

[2dmenenthusiast]

Grounded - Levi Ackerman x Reader

I had this whole thing typed out but it all got deleted cuz im an idiot so all I’ll say is that writing for Levi is hella difficicult, I hate the ending, and I hope you all enjoy. also yes there is a line from TWD in here but it fit so perfectly and it was too good to pass up okay? and I gave Hange they/them pronouns btw

(also one of my favorite fanfic writers @phen0l​ followed me and uhh I just wanna say that I’m honored?? They write amazing Levi fics and fics for other fandoms, so make sure to go check them out)

Summary: The Scouts are getting ready for the 57th expedition outside the walls, and you can’t help but let Levi know how worried you feel about the possible outcome of the mission

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings/other info: swearing, angst, death, spoilers for AOT season 1, reader has possible anxiety, reader is kept gender nuetral

No matter how many times you face them, no matter how many times you find yourself suspended in mid-air right over their gaping mouths, ready to swallow you whole, you will always have nightmares about that one fateful day in Shiganshina. The day the Colossal Titan kicked in Wall Maria and let his friends feast on the people in your district. Your friends, family, all destined to be one thing at that moment. Titan fodder. You still wonder how you made it out sometimes. How through all the commotion, a titan didn’t target you and scoop you into its mouth, effectively sealing your fate just like everyone around you. You chalked it up to luck at first before telling yourself that was bullshit. Luck didn’t have anything to do with it. Shit just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it besides roll with the punches and try your best to survive.

The sight of your sister and father being eaten by those beasts was permanently engraved behind your eyelids, seeing flashes of their thrashing, screaming bodies whenever you close your eyes to go to sleep. In those moments, you always wondered why you survived rather than them. Your sister… she was the sweetest little thing, lighting up a room whenever she smiled and constantly greeting you at the door with a hug whenever you came back from shopping in town. You swore her laugh was all you needed to take you right out of a bad mood, reminding you that things weren’t so bad if you had someone so full of joy in your life. And your father, while he was stubborn, he made sure to take care of his family the best he could, and you were forever grateful for that. He raised you to be strong and rely on yourself because in the end, the only person you truly had on your side was you.

No one really knew about your past. Well, besides your superiors who needed to know, but other than them, your fellow cadets knew the bare minimum about your private life. Although, when they found out you were from Shiganshina, they all just automatically assumed you suffered a great loss of some kind, whether it be your family or your home. In your case, it was both. Of course, you were close with some of the other soldiers. Eld and Petra were people you considered to be good friends with, along with the rest of your captain’s squad. Though, that didn’t stop you from wanting to deck Oluo in the face whenever he got too cocky, throwing his arm around your shoulders during lunch before immediately removing it when you would elbow him in the ribs.

“Jeez, Oluo. You think you’d learn by now. What is this, the fifth, sixth time?” Petra asked, pushing a stray hand of hair behind her ear.

“Seventh,” you chimed as you brought a spoonful of soup up to your mouth.

“Aw, you’ve been keeping count. That must mean you actually like me.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked over at him, placing the spoon back in your bowl before licking the remaining soup off of your lips. “You know this food is still steaming. Don’t make me throw it at your old ass face.”

He let out a noise of protest while the rest of the table laughed, and you snickered to yourself before shifting your gaze to meet Levi’s, his steely eyes almost piercing through you before he looked down into his cup and tuned back into the conversation his commander and squad leader Hange were having, watching as the dark liquid swirled around.

You always knew Levi to be a man of few words, but a strong sense of purpose. He wasn’t one to waste time on trivial things, always wanting to get straight to the point. He didn’t seem to be the type to waste time on feelings either, but you guessed it wasn’t any of your business. You knew he felt things. Experienced emotions and all that. You’d be stupid to think he didn’t. During training, when he’d survey your group to see how things were going, there would always be gossip when he left, your peers saying how he was cold and emotionless, but you disagreed. You had already heard the rumors of the captain being some type of underground gangster at that point, so when you really thought about it, it wasn’t unusual or weird for him to act the way he did. Something, someone, had made him that way, and that was okay. Something had affected all of you too. The world you all lived in didn’t have the time to spare you from grief or trauma.

“Cadet l/n.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden mention of your name, lifting your head to see your captain entering the mess hall with a signature cup of tea in his hand, and you gave him a lazy smile before looking back down at your own cup, the liquid having gone cold over the time you had been sitting there. Levi didn’t reprimand you for not saluting him, just silently walked over and occupied the seat across from you, looking at you with that stern gaze of his.

“You should be asleep. I won’t make training any easier for you tomorrow just because you’re tired.”

“This isn’t unusual for me, captain. Just needed something else to look at that wasn’t my bedroom wall,” you said, your voice quiet.

He slightly tilted his head as he studied you, lifting his hand to gesture around the room. “And you thought an empty mess hall would be better?”

You let out a scoff, meeting his eyes for a moment before sipping at your drink and immediately grimacing at the taste of it. “It’s better than the alternative. For now, at least.”

He didn’t respond at first, simply staring off into the distance as he let your words sink in before setting down his cup with a soft ‘clink.’ You thought that maybe if you weren’t so over everything at the moment, you wouldn’t be acting so casual with your superior, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Hopefully this wouldn’t bite you in the ass later

“You’re not the first one here to experience nightmares, you know.”

“Oh, so you have this talk with all of the cadets in the middle of the night?”

“No,” he answered simply, taking another sip of his drink.

You didn’t know why, but that simple interaction had been the best one you had with another person in months. Sure, you loved the company of your friends, but talking to Levi was just so… different. Almost liberating in a way. There were things you had told him that you never told anyone else during your late-night meetings, and it got to the point where you had found yourself looking forward to talking with him. Because you knew that behind his gaze was a man that felt so much, and you knew what that was like.

“You know… I only really made it out because they were too busy eating my family.”

Levi paused at that, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked at you over his cup that was pressed to his lips. He didn’t speak at first, taking his time as he leisurely drank his tea, and you could practically feel the depth of the silence looming over the both of you like it was its own presence.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” you thought, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you anxiously waited for Levi’s response.

You didn’t want him to pity you. That was never your intention. You guessed you just.... wanted someone to know what you were thinking and feeling, tired of constantly keeping it to yourself. If you got eaten by a titan one day, you’d at least want someone to know who you were. Who you really were.

“Sorry, I um…” you looked around at everything besides the man sitting in front of you, trying to find a way to fill the silence. “You probably don’t wanna hear some sob story from some cadet, I-”

“‘Some cadet?’”

Your eyes snapped over to his, mouth slightly agape before swallowing thickly. “I… Well I mean-”

“Talking like that about yourself isn’t going to change anything or make anything better. You’re not just some cadet, and I’m even willing to say that you’re not as bad as some of the shit-for-brains we have here. You came here to do the same thing everyone else is here to do. Fight for humanity. Whether your end goal is selfish or to try and relieve yourself of some guilt from the past, it doesn’t matter.” He leaned closer to you, elbows placed on the table as he pinned you with his gaze. “Every life sacrificed out there matters. So does yours, even if you don’t think it does. And it’s our job to make sure those soldiers don’t die in vain. 

You didn’t know what to say. No one had ever really talked to you like this, so how could you know how to respond? Luckily, he started speaking again so that you didn’t have to.

“Your family…  it’s a shame what happened to them. What you had to go through. But, their deaths will be avenged, and I will make damn sure of it.”

That night was the first time you cried in probably months. You thought Levi would think of you as some pathetic little soldier, trying to gain the sympathy of their captain, but he didn’t. He just placed a hand over yours and let you cry, and you remembered how you were sort of surprised by how warm he was. You remember that talk like it was only yesterday when in reality it was years ago. You and Levi didn’t talk as much as you used to, considering the fact that he was constantly busy with helping the titan shifter cadet, Eren Jaeger, and you had been recruited to squad leader, so you had your own people to deal with. But that didn’t mean you two never spoke. Whenever your paths crossed, you’d make sure to give him a little greeting, whether it was a simple wave or a “hello.” And occasionally, when you couldn’t sleep and you’d come down to the mess hall, he was there, a steaming cup of tea in front of him, and you’d talk for a few hours until you both agreed it was time to try and catch some sleep.

Now, the soldiers were getting ready for the 57th expedition, and you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling you got whenever you thought about it. Of course, every expedition was dangerous. More often than not, the scouts would come back from outside the walls with more than a few dead, and on bad days, their numbers would be cut in half. Eren was making progress, and you hoped he would be useful, but a part of you was still doubtful.

“I’m worried,” you stated, arms crossed over your chest as you stood next to Levi, watching the cadets train vigorously.

“You always worry.”

You glanced over at the man and huffed, seeing him completely focused on the soldiers before you lightly kicked your boot into the dirt. “I guess that’s kinda my thing, isn’t it? Can you blame me though? We’ve seen what Eren can do, but… he hardly has it under control. And this isn’t exactly a normal expedition.”

“Things will turn out the way they turn out. There’s nothing we can do except make sure things go the best way they can.”

You sighed. Levi was able to reassure you most of the time, but other times he did nothing to calm your nerves. It wasn’t his job to, though. His responses were straightforward, and if you didn’t like it then that was just something you had to deal with.

“Ever the optimist, Levi,” you said, a sarcastic lilt to your voice, and you smiled when he glanced at you before shaking his head.

“Hey! You’re not here to slack off. Pick up the pace before I make you all train through dinner.”

You were used to Levi giving out orders. Hell, he gave them to you all the time, but his commanding voice sent shivers down your spine at that moment.

“He’s a freaking tiny tyrant, I swear,” you heard one of the cadets mutter, and you couldn’t help but snicker as you turned your head away from your captain, covering your mouth to conceal your smile.

“Find something funny?”

You cleared your throat as you shook your head, turning to Levi with a grin and shrugging your shoulders. “Not at all, captain. Just have a little cough is all.”

“Mhm. Maybe I should make you run it off then.”

“Aw c’mon, Levi. Have a little laugh. We all need one once in a while, especially considering the day you’re all going to have tomorrow.”

He just let out a hum, and your smile slowly dropped as you looked out at the horizon, the sky painted in beautiful strokes of orange and pink. Yes, you were right, you all needed those small moments of joy in this fucked up world you lived in, but you weren’t stupid enough to believe that those moments could last forever. Sometimes you just had to face the reality of the situation you were all in, and you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled you as you thought about tomorrow.

“You’re overthinking. Stop it,” Levi said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head and gave him a smile that felt bittersweet. “I can’t help it sometimes. I wish I could go with you.”

“We have enough force and skill in the recruits we have for the expedition. It would be a waste to put you and your squad into it and leave you hanging with no real job to do.”

“No real job? We’d be doing what everyone else would be; killing titans and keeping Eren safe! How would we not be useful? You know for a fact that my squad and I are plenty skilled and-”

“We can’t risk more sacrifices by putting you out there. We have enough people to hopefully accomplish what we need to.”

“Then why wasn’t my squad a first choice to go beyond the walls this time? We’re more capable than most of the people here and you know it. Maybe if I talk to Erwin he’ll-”

“This wasn’t just Erwin’s decision, it was mine. And your insubordination is starting to get irritating, so I suggest you take a walk.”

You looked at Levi with widened eyes, disbelief clear on your face, and you swallowed down what you actually wanted to say before letting out a deep breath.

“Levi, I-”

“Take a walk, l/n. I don’t wanna hear about it.”

You simply blinked at him a few times, clearly upset by the way he addressed you, before letting out a scoff and walking away, your jaw and fists clenched tightly. Yes, maybe you were being a bit childish, but you refused to acknowledge that when you felt so pissed at the moment.

“I mean, how can he just treat me like that?! Just completely dismiss me and not even give me a reasonable answer! He’s so… He’s just so… Ugh!”

You groaned and rested your head in your hands as you sat across from Hange, your friend looking at you with raised brows as they idly tapped their fingers against the table.

“I mean, he is your superior, y/n.”

“But that’s not the point! Like, yeah okay, I know he’s my captain and all that, but… We’ve always just been casual with each other. We’ve never seen each other as our ranks. I still respect him and follow his orders when he gives them but…” You let out a noise of frustration and slammed your fists down on the table. “That doesn’t give him the right to just pull out the superiority card whenever it benefits him!”

Hange blinked a few times before letting out a sigh, brushing a piece of stray hair out of their face as they leaned back in their chair, shrugging their shoulders. “I mean, he said it was also his decision, right? So maybe… he’s trying to keep you safe?”

Your eyes widened almost comically, feeling heat travel up the back of your neck at the mention of the possibility that Levi was concerned about your safety. “I-I… I mean he- um.”

“Oh my, are you getting flustered, y/n? Does the thought of Levi caring about you make your heart race?” Hange asked, a playful smirk on their face.

“Stop! For the love of everything, please stop,” you whined, waving your hands in front of you as you tried to ignore how embarrassed you felt. 

Hange just laughed at you, continuing to poke fun until you threatened to not be a part of their crazy experiments anymore, to which they quickly backed off. You thought talking with Hange might make you feel better, but hours later when you were pacing in front of the door to Levi’s office, you still wanted to rip your hair out as you thought of what to say to him. Letting out a huff and straightening your posture, trying to gain some nerve, you raised your hand to knock on the door, only for it to suddenly open and reveal your captain, his cravat having come off and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Your incessant pacing is driving me up the wall. What do you want?”

Oh, so he had heard you. You avoided eye-contact, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of your neck before clearing your throat to try and relieve some of the awkwardness you felt.

“Um… can I come in?”

You both stood there for a moment, Levi’s gaze traveling up and down your body before stepping aside to let you in, and you gave him a small, appreciative nod as you walked inside his office. The tension in your shoulders was almost painful, your whole body almost stiff as Levi walked in front of you to sit on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was only Levi, a man you had come to know for years. And while you didn’t know everything about him, you still considered you both to be somewhat close. So why were you feeling so weird right now?

“Uh… I wanted to talk about this afternoon,” you said, mindlessly fidgeting with your fingers.

Levi raised a curious brow, letting you linger in silence for a moment before letting out a soft hum. “Not sure it’s something worth talking about.”

Lips curving into a small frown, you mimicked his posture and crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one foot. “Well, I think we left some things… unaddressed back there, and I wanna talk about it.”

He didn’t say anything, and you were starting to get pissed, your fuse short enough as it is. Your frustration finally hit its peak when he grabbed the cup of tea next to him and wordlessly took a sip, and you swore at that moment you wanted to take the cup and smash it against his head.

“Goddammit, would you stop drinking your stupid fucking tea and listen to me?!” you yelled, and you could see a flash of shock in his eyes at your outburst before he glared at you, setting his cup down.

“You wanna repeat that?”

“Oh, don’t get all fucking ‘Captain Levi’ on me. You know exactly what all of this is about. You didn’t even try to give me a reasonable explanation earlier, and I feel like I deserve one.”

“Do you? You think you deserve something for acting like this?”

“I’m not a child!”

“But I am your superior, which you seem to forget quite a lot.”

“That is such bullshit! Since when have you given two fucks about ranks when it comes to us? I follow your orders when I have to, not when you use your superiority when it’s most convenient for you.” 

Levi clicked his tongue as he got off of his desk, rounding it to sit in his chair, and your fists were clenched so tightly it was becoming almost painful, your nails digging into your palms.

“You know, you say you’re not a child, yet you constantly act like one. Throwing a fit when you don’t get your way. Sometimes I wonder why Erwin made the decision to promote you.”

Your eyes widened as you softly gasped, questioning if you heard Levi correctly, but you know you did. There was no mistaking it. You always believed that Levi knew that you were capable, that you could protect yourself. But now he made you question if he really thought those things. Did he even respect you as a soldier? After countless nights of spilling your guts to him and him reassuring you… did he think of you as just some simple-minded cadet? You felt like your heart was in your throat and tears were threatening to spill, but you just swallowed everything down and turned your head away.

“Good luck on the expedition tomorrow,” you muttered, and you were quick to leave his office and rush back to your room, tears spilling down your cheeks.

______________

When it came time for your fellow scouts to leave for the expedition in the morning, you were a bit reluctant to watch them, knowing that you’d end up automatically spotting Levi in the crowd, and the petty side of you wanted to ignore him at all costs. However, the rational side of you remembered that it wasn’t just Levi going out there, it was other soldiers as well, most of them you knew personally, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give them a proper send-off, knowing the likelihood of some of them not making it back. So, you dragged yourself out of bed and made yourself presentable, slipping on your jacket as you stepped out of your room.

“Y/n!”

You turned at the shout of your name, seeing Hange waving excitedly at you as they jogged down the hall, slowing down to walk with you.

“So? How did it go with Captain Shorty?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, bringing your fingers up to rub at your temples to try and cease the headache you already felt coming. “I don’t even wanna talk about it.”

“Dang, that bad, huh?” Hange grimaced.

“You have no idea. I just wanna forget about it”

Hange didn’t say anything more on the topic after that, simply talking about random things with you as you walked outside to the stables. You had a bad feeling settled in your stomach ever since you woke up, but as more time passed it just got worse.

“Hange,” you muttered, the squad leader turning towards you with raised eyebrows as they held the reins to their horse.

“Uh… Please be careful out there, okay?”

Hange looked shocked for a moment before their mouth split into a wide grin, and they quickly pulled you into a tight hug, which you immediately reciprocated.

“Aw, y/n! Don’t worry about me, I’m always careful!”

“That is such a lie, but I’ll believe you anyway,” you chuckled.

Pulling away from each other, Hange mounted their horse and joined the rest of the scouts at the gate, and you went to stand at the sidelines with the rest of your peers to watch them. Your eyes immediately caught sight of a head of familiar black hair, and you felt your heart grow heavy and your chest tighten, almost wishing he would feel your gaze and look over at you. But he didn’t and with Erwin’s war-cry, they charged through the open gate, the horses kicking up dirt and dust, and you only got a glance at their retreating figures before the gate was closed again.

______________

Every minute that ticked by felt like hours. You didn’t know how long they would be gone, the time usually spent outside the walls ranging from a few hours to a few days. You hoped it was the former, knowing that the longer they were out there, the more likely they were to get killed. You knew your comrades were skilled, having been outside the walls with them and seen their skills up close, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Now with the Eren being a titan shifter and a traitor in your midst, anything could happen.

You almost didn’t acknowledge the shouting of your fellow soldiers that afternoon, too focused on taking care of some of the horses in the stables. But when you finally heard it, you quickly stopped what you were doing and ran to the gate. They were back. Adrenaline coursed through you as your heart pounded like a drum against your chest, and when you finally caught sight of the returning scouts, you immediately stopped in your tracks. The look on their faces was one of defeat, and you could already tell just by looking at them that not all of them made it back. When you spotted Hange, you felt some relief wash over you and you quickly made your way over to them, walking beside their horse.

“Hange, what happened? Was the mission successful?”

Hange didn’t answer, a blank look on their face, which was identical to the expressions on all of the other soldier’s faces. It was a bad day, that much you could tell, and you made brief eye-contact with Levi before looking for your friends. Only… you couldn’t see them. Turning around frantically, you spotted Eren laying in a cart and ran over, jumping in beside him as you glanced at his hand clutching Mikasa’s. He looked even worse than everyone else did. No, loss was never easy, but Eren was just a kid, and experiencing so much of it at his age must have been devastating for him, especially when he was so passionate about saving humanity.

“Eren, tell me what happened. Who… Who did we lose?” you asked.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to know the answer, seeing Eren so broken and torn up already told you that what happened out there wasn’t good, but when was it ever? The boy had tears falling down his cheeks, trying to keep his sobs quiet, and Mikasa just looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think right now’s a good time-”

“Please!” You gripped the cape that was laid over top of Eren, eyes focussed on the blue and white wings embroidered on the back and you sniffled as you tried to hold back the tears that were desperately trying to come out. “I… I need to know. Please, Eren…”

He stared at you with wide eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before letting out a shuddered breath. “They… We were after the female titan and she… I couldn’t save them, y/n. They died protecting me!”

Your face seemed void of any emotion as Eren’s words sunk in, piercing your heart like a million knives, and all you did was nod silently before jumping out of the cart, your mind going on autopilot as you walked. You didn’t need him to explain who he was talking about for you to already put the pieces together. Levi had told you that Eren was going to be a part of his squad so that he could keep an eye on him, and his squad was in charge of protecting him. He had become humanity’s number one asset after all. Civilians were shouting at all of you, cursing at you and hurling insults at your face. You weren’t even one of the scouts on the expedition, but that didn’t matter. As long as you wore the wings of freedom on your back, you were a bastard like the rest of them. No more, no less.

You had stumbled too close to the crowd, too preoccupied with your thoughts to even notice, until a large man gripped your shoulders and pushed you in front of the horses, your body landing harshly in the dirt as some of the people laughed at you. You heard someone shout your name, but it sounded distant to you, everyone’s drowned out underneath the roaring of your thoughts. You shifted yourself onto your hands and knees, only to look up and see Hange crouched down in front of you, a concerned expression on their face.

“Y/n, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

There was a ringing in your ears as you looked at them, trying desperately to just get a grip.

The dirt under my hands, the dryness in my mouth, the shouts of the citizens, the musty smell of the horses… Hange right in front of me.

“I’m fine. I… I’m fine.”

The single tear slipping down your cheek went unnoticed by you, but it was one of the things that let Hange know that you were lying. That you weren’t fine. Reaching out to wipe the tear away Hange shook their head.

“Y/n-”

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Giving Hange a tight-lipped smile, you picked yourself up off the ground and made your way back to the Scout’s headquarters, feeling everyone’s eyes on your back, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Levi was watching you too.

______________

You didn’t keep track of how long you cried that day, keeping yourself locked in your room and sobbing until your body physically couldn’t produce any more tears. The last time you cried this much was when your family died, same thing could be said when you thought about the last time you felt this way. Like all hope was lost. You found yourself questioning what the point of all of this was for a moment before you quickly slapped yourself out of that thought. You knew why you had to do this, why the Survey Corps was important. But shit, all this loss? You didn’t know how much more you could take. Especially if days like today became more frequent.

Then you got to thinking about Levi and the stupid argument you had yesterday. At the time, you felt like your feelings were justified, and maybe they were, but now you felt like a complete idiot for arguing with him, especially the day before an expedition where it was one hundred percent possible that he could’ve died out there. The thought of your last interaction being some petty argument made more tears fall, and you gripped the sheets of your bed so tightly that you thought they might rip. Did he even want to speak to you now? Maybe he realized that you were just some immature little soldier and wanted nothing to do with you.

No, you couldn’t accept that. You wouldn’t. Standing from your bed, you harshly wiped at your eyes and sniffled, trying to look like you weren’t crying for hours on end - even though it was pointless, you knew Levi would be able to tell immediately - and exited your room to start making your way to Levi’s office. Your nerves were kicked into high gear, but you refused to let this man intimidate you. You were going to let him know how you felt and he was going to listen. Of course, your confidence immediately deflated when you found yourself standing in front of his door, but you swallowed down your nerves and knocked, taking a deep breath.

Levi’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, telling you to come in, and you let out a small huff as you gripped the doorknob and let yourself in. He didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of him when you walked in, and as the door closed behind you and you moved to stand in front of his desk with your hands held behind your back, you lightly cleared your throat to get his attention. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you could feel yourself shrink under his gaze. There was no doubt he saw what happened earlier today when they came back, and from the way he was examining you, you knew he could easily tell that you had been crying.

“Did you need me?” he asked, and you sharply inhaled at the sound of his voice. It felt like forever since he talked to you last, and hearing him speak made your stomach do flips.

“Uh… I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t really practice what I was going to say before I came in here.”

He raised a brow at you. “‘Practice?’”

“I mean, it’s kinda hard to talk to you. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… Ah shit, I don’t know. It might just be me. I’m not the best at articulating, you know?”

He hummed and grabbed his cup as you let out a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and leaning your elbows on your knees, bouncing your leg. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you wordlessly gazed at him for a moment, a made-up image of his death flashing in your mind before you shook your head and ran your hand down your face.

“Look, um… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for yesterday. For questioning your judgment when I should’ve just dealt with it. You’re my superior and I disrespected you so… Again, I’m sorry.”

Silence fell between you for a moment before he let out a sigh, setting down his cup before leaning his chin against his propped up hand. “Don’t apologize. You were right.”

Your eyes widened. Did you hear that correctly? “Uh, I’m sorry?”

Getting up from his seat, he rounded his desk to stand in front of you, and you were even more confused. You swore he would’ve been done with you by now.

“You said you and your squad were more than capable of handling the mission. You were right. Or at least, you were right at the time. The female titan would’ve wiped us all out if she wanted to, just like she did my squad. I don’t doubt that if you went after her, you’d be dead right now too.”

You stiffened slightly at his words, fingers gripping your knees as you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “Oh.”

“As captain, I’m supposed to remain unbiased. My decisions should be based on the greater good of humanity and my comrades. If my judgment is wrong, then that’s something I have to live with. Making my squad protect Eren was my decision, and they died.” He let out a long breath. “When Erwin decided to not bring you on the expedition, I was opposed to it at first. I knew that you and your squad would be able to aid us greatly, but I couldn’t sway him. However, now that I think about it, I’m glad you weren’t there.”

You were at a loss for words. When Hange had joked the other day about Levi caring about you, you didn’t take it seriously. But now that you were hearing all of this… Did he care for you? Or was it just your wishful thinking that was causing you to interpret things wrong? Slowly standing up, you briefly met his gaze before walking over to the window and looking out at the night sky, the sun having gone down a while ago, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you tried to piece together what you wanted to say to him.

“Even if you think I was right, I’m still sorry. I don’t like arguing, especially with you. And the fact that you had to go on an expedition the next day…” You swallowed thickly. “I was scared. I know you say that there’s no use regretting the decisions we’ve made, but if you died out there today and a stupid argument was the last interaction we ever had, I would’ve regretted it every day of my life.” You turned to face him, eyes glossing over. “I would’ve beat myself up when I know you’d want me to continue to be strong. But I feel like I can’t do that without you, and I feel so weak and stupid for saying that. For feeling like the only thing that gives me hope in this godforsaken world is you.”

Levi remained silent, not that you expected him to say anything, and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe at your teary eyes before sighing and giving him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t wanna hear some silly confession. I’ll let you get back to your business,” you said, walking past Levi to get to the door, but you didn’t make it that far when his hand suddenly shot out and gripped your arm, causing you to turn back and look at him.

“Why do you always do that?”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You never take yourself seriously and act like the people around you don’t either. You’re self-deprecating. You did the same thing when I found you in the mess hall years ago. Why?”

“I… I don’t know, I guess I just get nervous around you.”

“Why?”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, and your heart was racing as Levi’s grip on your arm tightened and he pulled you closer. “Because… I want to be strong in front of you. I don’t want you to see me as someone immature and incapable, and I’m scared of embarrassing myself in front of you.”

“Did you find your confession embarrassing? Do you want me to forget about it?”

“If you want to.”

“Mm. And what if I don’t?”

You let out a shuddered breath, eyes flitting down to his lips for a moment. “Then what will you do about it?”

Neither of you moved at first, your gaze not leaving one another, and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest, it was going so fast. You wondered if Levi was experiencing the same feeling. Wondered if underneath that stoic, calm expression, his blood was pumping in his ears and his pulse was going crazy. You were waiting for him to do something, anything, as he stared at you with an almost challenging look. It made anger flare up in you for some reason, and you clenched your jaw as you narrowed your eyes. 

No, I won’t let this get away from me.

Reaching up, your hand grabbed at his cravat, yanking him forward into an almost desperate kiss that had your mind reeling. His brows were scrunched up, body tense, before finally relaxing, and you could feel him almost melt into you as he brought both of his hands up to hold your face, eagerly responding. Your frustration had been building up ever since your fight, and you felt like you were both letting it all out now, each kiss hungry and rushed, barely able to pull your faces away before one of you was pulling the other one in again.

“Fuck, I can’t stand you sometimes,” you breathed out between kisses, fingers weaving into Levi’s dark locks and lightly tugging, causing him to let out a soft groan against your lips.

“Stop talking.”

You don’t know when the anxiety started bubbling in your stomach or why your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat, all you knew was that every sensation was suddenly overwhelming. Levi’s hands, his lips, his breath against your face, it was all too much. You were suddenly pushing him away, tears quickly building up behind your eyes as you panted for breath. Whether it be from the desperateness of your kisses, or the constricting of your chest, you didn’t know. You just knew that everything was suddenly hitting you at once, and you couldn't get a grasp on how to deal with it.

“Y/n…”

Right, Levi was still here, and he looked at you with a hand slightly reached out, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You hesitated, staring at his hand like you were trying to see through it, before eventually grabbing it, and he slowly pulled you into his chest. Your arms were limp at your sides, silent tears streaming down your face as Levi held you.

“They’d be proud of you, y/n. You know that.”

You felt like you had been falling all of your life, nothing to stop you, nothing to hold onto as you plummeted through an endless abyss. But now, as you brought your hands up to grip the back of Levi’s jacket and sobbed into his shoulder, for once, you felt like your feet had finally found the ground.

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 7. roof

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[warnings: violence mention, smoking, suicide mention]

"i love this feeling. this feeling of calm." — When you and Sal left the unoccupied classroom, the halls were already bustling again. It was easy to remain unseen, as the both of you gently shut the door behind you and slipped into the crowd.

You'd both missed the entirety of your first class.

The school's faculty was unreliable, though—maybe you'd get away with it.

You knew you looked like a hot mess, so you kept your head down as you walked alongside Sal through the halls. He was silent for the time being—but you knew he was there because he walked closely to you.

"Your lipgloss," you hear him say. You look away from the floor to meet his eyes, gazing up at him curiously. "It's messed up."

You nervously laugh. "I'm sure it is—that's what I get for wearing a colored one. I'm sure you're wearing some too, now."

He chuckles, silent for a moment. You bet he's licking his lips. "Yeah. Tastes nice."

Your face feels tingly all over. You raise your fingers to touch your lips, skim over the skin just around them—and sure enough, the sticky residue is all over. You'd kissed most of it off, but a good amount of it had just smeared.

"I'm gonna go freshen up," you say, gesturing toward the girls' bathroom. "I was just laying on a floor a few moments ago."

Sal follows your line of sight. "Okay. I'm gonna head toward my next class. Text me if anything happens."

You smile and wiggle your fingers in farewell as he turns and walks into the dense crowd of students. You breathe out a shaky sigh as a feeling of complete and utter disbelief washes over your body.

When you entered the bathroom, you avoided locking eyes with anyone else inside of it—instead, you made a beeline for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a sheet and crumbling it up in your palm. You moved toward the sink, turned it on, and passed it beneath the steady stream of cold water running from the faucet. You then raised it to your lips and wiped the stickiness off.

Once you'd done that, dried your lips, and thrown the paper towels away, you allowed yourself a moment to stare into the mirror.

It was kind of hard to look at yourself. Every time you made eye contact with your reflection, all you saw was the sight of a head with blue hair between your legs—and pale hands clad with silver rings holding your thighs open.

Your body began to feel fuzzy, so you whisked the thought away, fixed your hair, and continued to your next class.

When it was time to gather in the cafeteria, you ran into Ashley on your way toward it.

"Hey!" She called, approaching you from one side of the hallway. She tucked a wispy strand of hair behind her ear, blinking down at you with lash-fringed green eyes. "Let's walk together."

You had no problem with that. "Sure."

You absentmindedly watched her pull her sleeves down to make sweater paws as the two of you walked side by side.

Your lips felt dry. You wished you knew where your lipgloss had gone. It had been in your jacket pocket earlier—but had fallen out or gotten lost inside of it. You had no clue, but chalked it up as a mysterious disappearance and accepted the loss.

The both of you found Todd first, then Larry and Sal who were together.

A nervous feeling swirled in your gut. You knew Sal wouldn't, you trust him—but something inside of you feared that he'd told Larry what had happened. Which made no sense, on your part. Sal definitely wasn't the type to get up and tell someone directly after having a sexual encounter.

Your anxiety worsened for a different reason when you'd realized that Sal and Larry weren't interacting like you were used to. Larry's body language was stiff—and his features were drawn into a frustrated expression.

The whites of his eyes weren't red anymore, though, so you guessed his high wore off.

Sal didn't seem to be in the same bitter mood the other boy was, but you'd grown accustomed to reading his body language in a lot of different situations—and he didn't seem as chilled out as he normally would be.

Sal was a laidback person. Seeing him so tense was strange.

On the way into the cafeteria, you and Sal were momentarily separated from the rest of the gang after a group of students cut the two of you from the other three. Even though you had this moment of alone time, you didn't ask Sal about his and Larry's behavior. It wasn't your business.

You felt ringed fingers wrap around yours. Your heart jumps, and you seriously think Sal is going to walk you into this cafeteria by the hand—but instead, he raises your arm and places something in your palm.

You look down. It's that pink tube of cherry-flavored lipgloss.

You laugh and meet his eyes. "Where did you find it?"

"I- uh, went back into that classroom," he replies. "I left a ring in there."

The crowd is thinning out, and you watch your friends settle at a table. You redirect your attention back to Sal, inclining your head toward him. "Why did you take them off, anyway?"

He speaks to you closely, leaning toward the side of your face so he can speak lower. His hand ghosts your waist.

You've quickly begun to understand that a huge part of your.. involvement.. with Sal involved a good amount of touching. You weren't uncomfortable with touching him, and that gave him the confidence to not be scared of doing the same to you.

"I thought I'd be using my fingers," he answers, the tone in which he speaks a bit nervous, as you place the lipgloss tube in your jacket pocket. "But I got carried away, I guess."

Your heart pounds against your ribs, anxiousness rushing through your blood more so than your blood did. You want to reply, continue this conversation—but you know this interaction has been going on for too long and you can practically feel someone's eyes burning holes through your back.

You hadn't realized how close you were to him until you'd stepped back. "Come on, we should sit before-"

Before you can even finish, someone's rested their hand on your shoulder. You jerk, instinctively whirling towards the person and bumping back into Sal. You steady yourself quickly and look up to lock eyes with Travis.

"Holy shit," you breathe, genuinely startled. "What the hell?"

Sal hasn't said anything, yet. But you know he isn't very shy. He isn't really afraid of Travis.

"You're in my way," Travis sneers, not looking at you, but at Sal. "Move."

You look around you before meeting his dark eyes and giving him a deadpan expression. You weren't blocking anyone's way, as countless students were continuing to file around the both of you and head towards their tables. "There's more than enough room for you to walk around us." You reply even when he isn't speaking to you.

Travis's gaze locks with yours, pupils dilated. He looks back to Sal. "Your friend here really loves to involve herself in our business, doesn't she, Fisher?"

Your jaw clenches.

"You involved her whenever you touched her," Sal says lowly. His voice grows deeper as he speaks slower. "If you have something to say to me, talk to me."

Travis's face slowly grows red with rage. He jerks, his cross necklace glistens in the corner of your eye, and suddenly his fingers are gripping your arm. You barely have time to process before you're pulled just a bit and your blood goes cold.

It's not like he's yanked you hard enough to hit the ground—but you stumble, just a bit, and now you're closer to him. His initial grip didn't affect you, but the moment he'd tightened his fingers to pull, it hurt.

You hear the sound of someone abruptly standing off of their seat. You know it's Larry, you saw the mood he was in—and you pray something happens before he can make his way over here and beat Travis to a bloody pulp.

All because of you, everyone would be in trouble.

What happens is not what you expect.

Sal reaches forward, wraps his long fingers around Travis's skinny wrist, and hastily rips the other boy's hand off and away from you. Your mind goes blank and the feeling of your raging heartbeat dissipates when he laces his cool fingers through yours and tightens his grip around you.

He flicks his eyes over Travis' paling face, meets his wide eyes, and leads you off.

It doesn't take very long to reach the table. Just before you've parted through another small crowd of teens, Sal lets go of your hand. You have nothing to complain about—you knew it wouldn't last long.

You assume the number of people bustling through the cafeteria would have obstructed your friends' view a bit, so you doubt they saw the handholding. You knew that they'd seen the altercation, though—because you'd heard Larry jump from his chair.

As soon as you've finished easing into your seat, someone's speaking.

"So?" Larry starts, impatiently flexing his fingers atop the table. He looks you straight in the eyes and continues, "What'd Travis say? Why did he grab you? Do I need to-"

"He was just being Travis, Larry,"  Sal cut in, tone short. You witnessed each and every person at the table's eyes widen. Your heart jumps a bit, too—you've never heard him sound like that. "He'll probably try to find me after school later and beat the shit out of me. I'd let him, at this point."

"He's never done that before, though," Ashley points out warily. "This time won't be any different than any other time, right?"

"Not unless something else happened," Todd speaks up about the matter for the first time, swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

"But it was different," Sal breaks in again. "I touched him."

Larry's dark eyebrows jump. "Did you hit him?"

"No." You assert for Sal, nervously glancing his way. "Nothing like that."

Everyone at the table seemed like they wanted more information—shifting in their seats anxiously (save for Todd) and casting inquisitively wary glances toward Sal—but you guessed no one wanted to make Sal any more uncomfortable than he already seemed to be.

Eventually, Larry dissolved the intensity with a joke and eventually a conversation started back up. You put your input in occasionally, wanting to make an effort and be present.

That was a bit hard, though—considering Sal's current timidity. He hadn't spoken for the rest of lunch and barely acknowledged anyone on the way out of the cafeteria.

When your classes had finished for the day, it was time to attend detention.

That was uneventful as well. Sal was placed on the opposite side of the classroom, so even with the teacher who was nodding off and pounding rain concealing any noise you would have produced, you couldn't have genuinely spoken with him.

On the way home from school, the sound of squeaking wet grass and squelching mud beneath your feet grew very unbearable and you quickly broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Sal, but-"

"You should just stay away from me."

Your heart jumps. It seems to leap from a cliff because it seems to settle in the pit of your stomach. "What?" Your eyes fly towards his prosthetic face, wishing you could search it for anything—but you can't. "Sal, what do you mean?"

"This'll just keep happening. I shouldn't have involved myself with someone like you in the first place."

"Someone like me?" You echo, feeling a bit faint. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Someone who deserves better than the likes of me," he says lowly. "You don't deserve to be grabbed and made fun of just for associating with someone, Y/N. I don't want that for you."

"I don't give a shit, Sal," you bite, tugging at your backpack straps roughly. "I think I can choose who I hang out with."

Sal's quiet after that. It's torture, listening to the breeze rustle the tree leaves and whistle past your ears for 5 whole minutes. Something that calmed you so greatly now made you feel like punching something. You just wish he'd speak.

He does after that thought. "I just want something good for you. I don't want someone else to be dragged into the mess that's my life. Within a few days, Larry's already gotten you fucking high as a kite, you've had to deal with Travis more than once.."

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm not an angel, Sal. I hadn't gotten high before I met you because I didn't have friends—I wasn't tainted because of you or Larry. And as for Travis, he's just a dick. We've all had to deal with someone like that in our lives."

You're both now stood on the pale concrete of the sidewalk. You watch Sal's blue hair blow a bit, the sky blue shade of the strands blending prettily against the multicolored sunset behind him.

"You don't know me," he tries.

"You don't know me," you reply.

The mask shifts and he looks down at his shoes. You follow his gaze, tracing the color of his cornflower blue sneakers.

"I think we shouldn't do this anymore," Sal mumbles quickly, and you wouldn't have picked it up if you hadn't been straining to hear him so much.

You swallow thickly. "Do what?"

He does the same, Adam's apple moving against his throat. "Whatever.. this is."

Your eyebrows pull down. "For 'my sake' or because you don't want to bother with me anymore?"

Sal doesn't reply, flexing his fingers and standing there helplessly. He avoids your eyes and chooses not to reply.

"You're not supposed to choose what's right for me," you chide. "You can't-"

His head jerks up, and he seems to snap. "I don't want this anymore. There, is that good enough?"

Your heartbeat stutters, and you feel the blood draining from your face. Initial confusion and shock are quickly replaced by vexation and frustration. You turn around and hastily walk away, away from Sal and leaving him behind you.

You walk, and walk, and walk. You continue even when the sun disappears behind the line of Nockfell's horizon and when the stars show themselves in the sky. The night is even colder than the day and continues to grow even more frigid as your legs carry you away.

Eventually, your feet are too numb to continue, and you settle on the sidewalk. You shiver, the night's breeze gusting into your face. You pull the denim jacket you wore closer to your chest.

You try not to think about it too hard, but the thoughts are intrusive. You've never felt stupider than you did at this moment.

He didn't want to deal with you anymore. You should have never involved yourself in Travis and Sal's business. You'd just made it all worse for him. He didn't want to have to protect you—who would?

It was over. Whatever it was—it was gone.

Eventually, you find yourself laying on your side. The concrete is cool against your cheek, and the wind is even cooler.

The cars stop coming. You don't know what time it is, and you don't want to check.

You stare out at the sideways road for a while, and eventually the numbing cold lulls you into a dreamless sleep.

You're not even fully awake when a blinding light is shining into your closed eyelids. You groan, pressing the palm heels of your hands into your eyes before blinking them open. In front of you, a vehicle has pulled to the side of the road, just up against the curb. The headlights are way too bright to tell the make or model, or even the color.

"Holy shit, that's Y/N!"

You pull your body into an upright position, wincing as your stiff joints protest your movements. You're barely on your feet before someone's firm hands are on your shoulders. You blink, your eyes trailing from a male's chest to his face.

It's Larry. And stood not far behind him are both Todd and Ashley.

Well, that's certainly a sight to see. Despite your disorientation and overall confusion, you still find it within yourself to feel embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" Todd asks, adjusting his glasses and stepping to Larry's right. "We were driving by and saw someone sleeping on the sidewalk, and turns out it was you."

Suddenly. Ashley is on Larry's left, her pretty features twisted into an expression of terror. "What are you doing out here? It's one in the morning."

You blink fast, absentmindedly raising your hands and placing them atop Larry's which are on your shoulders. He was the only thing steadying you right now. Your body felt weak and sore and your feet were stinging.

"I'm- I'm fine," you breathe. "I sat down and I fell asleep."

Everyone in front of you exchanges concerned glances before returning their attention to you.

"Y/N," Larry speaks first. "I'm sorry for letting you smoke so much. Maybe you're still high-"

"I'm not high," you scratch the back of your head. "That wore off a while ago. I just.. was walking.. for a while."

That was when you finally realized the proximity Larry's hands were to the bruises on your neck. Nonchalantly you slid his fingers off of your shoulders and pushed your hair to shadow the bruised flesh.

It was too dark to see much out here. You doubted they saw anything.

After answering the same question a few more times over ("You're sure you're okay?") you all climbed back into Ashley's vehicle, Todd in shotgun and Larry in the seat beside you, and began the drive to Addison Apartments.

Soon after the vehicle began to move the volume of the radio had been turned higher. The tranquil sound of an acoustic guitar soothed your aching skull as you watched the streetlights pass by. You leaned your head against the window, the cold glass pressing against your forehead spreading a chill down your face.

You breathed slowly. Every puff of hot air that escaped your lips blurs the glass before the frigidity of the window itself evaporated the fog. This sequence continues until you've arrived at Addison Apartments.

You hadn't even realized Todd had been dropped off already until you looked at him to say goodbye and he wasn't there.

Ashley bid both you and Larry goodbye and drove away. Silence hung between the both of you until you entered the bittersweet interior of Addison Apartments. But, for once—the atmosphere of the ground floor calmed you. The lights were dimmed, and a shaded lamp was the main light source of the lobby. The walls were cast over with a calming golden hue.

It reminded you of home—a home you'd never known.

"Weren't you with Sal?" That's the first thing Larry says to break the newfound silence. "You had detention together."

You hesitate. "Yeah. We went to detention—didn't see him afterward."

Larry searches your face with deep, cryptic eyes. "I'm seriously sorry about the weed," he states, the tone on his tongue sincere. "That was my bad—and I see that now. Sal told me how high you got, dude."

Your heart tumbles in fear. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing—just how you'd ran into each other and you were high."

"Was that the reason things were so tense between you before lunch?" This genuinely made you curious.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I think that's why he was kinda snappy. He's never really like that when it comes to Travis. Sal's a patient guy—he usually just avoids talking about anything at all after a confrontation with Travis."

You didn't want to talk about him or any of it anymore. You wanted to climb in bed and stare up at your ceiling and listen to the dead air and the static in your ears. "I just-" you swallow. "I... never mind. I'm gonna head up and get to bed."

Larry blinks down at you, his inquisitive eyes searching for something. "Alright. Get some shuteye, dude. Okay?"

"Okay," you murmur, nodding tiredly and retreating toward the elevator. Larry walks back outside—you assume to light a cigarette—and you step into the elevator. As soon as those doors close, the light inside shuts off.

You're too tired to jump in surprise or feel fear. Instead, you wait it out and walk to your apartment once you're free.

Once you've unlocked the door and stepped lightly to your room, you fish your flip phone from the depths of the pocket in your denim jacket and open it up.

Sal :) Missed Call (3)

Sal :) just let me know you got home safe

Sal :) i'm on the roof if something's wrong

That message was sent 11 minutes ago.

Maybe he'd still be there.

But why would you want to go after what he'd said to you? Why would you want to see him so soon?

How would he have even got to the roof, anyway?

Despite yourself, and all of your better judgment, you go towards your window and slide it open from the bottom. Sure enough, the stairs of the fire escape sit just below the sill. You swing a leg over it, then the other, and pull yourself onto the metal steps. They rattle a bit, but they're steady.

You pull the majority window closed (leaving just a bit of space so you can get it back open) and head up the steps of the fire escape.

It doesn't take long to reach the top. Whenever you step on the roof, despite the fact your feet are planted on something firm, you sway dizzily.

Maybe you had a fear of heights.

There he is. He's sat on the edge, legs hanging over. His back is to you, but you can make out the fact that he's holding a cigarette by the way smoke trails from in front of him into the sky.

You walk forward, making slow movements. You then step beside him and lower yourself to where you're sitting on the edge with him.

And as you stared out into the night, felt the breeze grow warm, almost like it had done so for you—all that you felt was inner peace. Your feet swung back and forth, nothing below to catch them but a free fall and the concrete.

You looked out at the sleeping town and the golden streetlights that lit it.

"Do you ever think about it?" Sal murmurs, his voice is a bit clearer than it was normally because of the way his prosthetic was halfway unbuckled. You heard the crackle of a cigarette and then smelt smoke.

"Think about what?"

"Jumping," he replies. "What if we jumped together?"

Your chest tightens painfully. "Sal-"

"Think about it," he says. "No one would know what went through our minds when we jumped—they'd never stop talking about it. Nothing ever happens here. Something like that.. you'd feel important."

"You wouldn't feel anything," your voice shook despite your best efforts. "You'd be gone for everyone. All of the people who love you now would only lose you."

Sal stays silent, taking a drag from the cigarette and inhaling.

"I know how it feels to want to be missed. To want to feel appreciated." Your hand grows closer to his. "I know that's how you feel. The difference between us, though—you're loved, you're probably even missed when you skip a day of school," you smiled softly. "I'm not. I know what being unloved looks like, Sal. You're not that."

You turn your head to meet his gaze. Moonlight shines against the white of his prosthetic face. He blinks those blue eyes slowly, tiredly. Instead of saying anything, he closes the distance between your hands and locks your smallest finger with his.

"I didn't mean what I said," he whispers, smoke falling out of the mask. "It's sick but I told you that because I care."

Your shallow breaths are barely audible to yourself beneath your racing heart.

"I want to take it at a pace with you, Y/N," he continues. "I don't want to fuck it all up. I wish I could just get up and leave you here so you wouldn't have to deal with me but I can't do it."

You hesitated. "Why not?"

"I don't know."

"I don't want this to be over," you breathe. "I know you don't want me to involve myself with you because you're scared of what will happen. But this involves me, too. This is about both of us. Let me decide for myself."

Maybe he was right. Maybe you shouldn't be doing this—involving yourself with the mess that is Sal Fisher. There's too much you don't know about who he is.

But you wanted to try.

"We can take it slow," you assured. "I understand you're scared but there's nothing to be afraid of."

Your hand inches over his, interlacing your fingers, your palm on the back of his hand. You squeeze them in comfort, not searching for any reciprocation, but it's given anyways.

Nothing is said after that. You sit with him until you're drifting into sleep while sitting upright. You know you can't leave him here—so you wait until he's ready to go home.

You can wait.