#i'm so glad that you reach out for me and give us comfort towards ourselves tqsm dear 🫶🫶🫶

[gxtzeizm]

i relate to you SO hard except i had a man united game to watch right after instead of a bayern game. i’m presuming the bayern game went well but i for one was stuck with 90 minutes of liverpool DESTROYING us while ten hag fucked around with our formation 💔depression on depression for me….but football is always a comfort and at least your game went okay!

noooooo i also feel for you tho for the man united defeat 🫂🫂....but yeah really, like seriously like football really brings me more comfort than ever ngl 🥺🥺

[arthropod-concoctions]

(part 4)

Jimmy wasn't quite sure what to think, as he comforted the strange copy of Joel that was now crying into his shoulder. His skin felt like hardened clay, and he was in a hole dug by Pix when he first saw him. Jimmy didn't know anything about living statues, but he knew two things about this man: He liked Jimmy, and the god of Stratos hated him. That was enough for the sheriff.

Joel sniffled, then let go of Jimmy and looked at him through tears mixed with sand. Or... were his tears made out of sand? It was hard to tell.

“You're not the Jimmy I knew, are you?” his voice was quiet, morose.

“I don't know. I might not be.”

“Right.” Joel looked at the ground. “That's embarrassing then.”

“Nah, don't worry about it. If you were friends with one version of me, you can be friends with this version too,” Jimmy responded. Does that mean I should be friends with the other Joel as well? He quickly dismissed that thought. He'd be friends with Joel once Joel respected him; which this version seemed to do.

Joel was looking around now, peering at the buildings in the village a little downhill. “So... what is this place exactly?”

“This?” Jimmy grinned at him, and spread his arms wide. “This is Tumble Town! I'm the sheriff of this place. Built it from the ground up, and now I provide everyone with terracotta and gunpowder. And, of course, with the Law.”

Joel's expression darkened. “Lore? I don't like lore,” he said.

“Excuse me? No, not lore. The Law. L-A-W.”

“Oh, the Law. Of course.” Joel chuckled, shook his head, then began walking downhill towards the settlement. “Of all the people to inherit this land...”

Inherit? What was that supposed to mean? Jimmy jogged up to him. When he'd caught up to him, he said: “Sorry, what'd you say?”

“Oh, nothing. I was talking to myself. Don't worry about it.”

“I think I will worry about it, actually,” Jimmy said, getting in front of Joel. “Did you say 'inherit'?”

Joel sighed, and looked into the distance again. “I used to be the king of this place, you know?”

Jimmy stopped in his tracks. He was not expecting that. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. The kingdom was called Mezalea. We exported terracotta too. Not as much as we used it ourselves though. I made a massive palace. It was- it was beautiful.” Joel's voice cracked as he spoke. “At least until everything broke.”

Jimmy was quiet. He'd never heard of a kingdom called Mezalea; he thought Pix would give anything to have learned this information. At the same time, he felt bad for prying. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It was my fault, to be honest. I could have repaired the buildings at the time, but... I never did. And I guess it's too late now.” he looked at the horizon. “Speaking of late. Do you have a bed?”

Jimmy turned around, and saw the setting sun. “Oh my gosh, it's getting nighttime already. Er- hang on, I'll show you to the inn. Follow me.”

They walked to the inn in silence. Jimmy showed Joel to his room in the wooden building. “It's not exactly fit for a king, but... it'll have to do, I'm afraid.”

“It'll have to do,” Joel replied. He turned to him. “Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Forget what I said earlier. I'm glad you're the one living here now.”

Jimmy smiled. “Thanks, Joel. Have a good night.” And with that, he closed the door, leaving the Mezalean by himself.

* * * * *

Joel didn't sleep. Tired though he was, the last time he went to sleep he didn't get up again for years, and he wasn't looking to repeat that experience. What business do I even have being tired anyways? I've done nothing, he thought. Instead, he got up, left the inn, and began walking around Tumble Town.

It was a bizarre sight, seeing these wooden buildings, so Jimmy-like, in the dry mesa. He looked at water tower illuminated with torchlight in the distance, and could easily picture it standing in the swamps of the Codlands. But the landscape was also familiar for a different, more haunting reason. This was his mesa. He almost saw the silhouette of his palace in the mountain peaks. When he reached the lowest part of the valley, he touched the ground, and thought he could feel the remnants of the Mother Tree below him. It was so faint he could just as easily be imagining it.

He sat there until the sun rose and Jimmy walked up to him.

“You weren't at the inn. Have you just been here all night?” There was a slight accent to his voice that Joel couldn't place. He supposed it must been the accent of the people that lived here now.

“I'm made of terracotta, Jim. I don't need sleep.”

“Right. Sure.” Even though he wasn't facing Jimmy, Joel thought he could see the skeptical expression on his face. “You did ask me for a bed though.”

“Oh, right. I guess I did, huh?” Joel replied. Jimmy didn't respond. The awkwardness was palpable.

“Jimmy,” Joel started, and turned toward his old friend: “Can you tell me a little bit about, like... the world these days? 'cause you're here in Tumble Town, and I've seen Pix as well, so... is there anyone else important I should maybe know about?”

“Alright.” Jimmy sat down next to him. “So, we're in Tumble Town right now. Way off to the east is the Eversea, where Pirate Joe lives. Me and him have a deal for gunpowder. There's also the Evermoore, a witch called Shubble lives there. Let's see...”

Joel nodded along. Joe and Shubble. Could those be distortions of Joey and Shrub? Neither of them were immortal as far as he knew, but then again, neither was Jimmy.

“So, you've met Pix. I think he's like... head of the archaeologists' guild? Something like that. He's discovered this giant ruined city up north, he tends to hang around there. East of that is-” he faltered. “Nobody important. Near there is also Animalia, with mayor Lizzie, and actually below there is-”

Joel's heart skipped a beat. “Lizzie?”

“Yep. As I was saying, below Animalia in the caves-”

“Wait. Hang on a second.” he suddenly felt a chill, and his head spun. Lizzie was here. He could see Lizzie again. “where is Lizzie's kingdom exactly, relative to here?”

“Uh, northwards I think. Why?”

“...do you have a spare elytra i could borrow?”

(ch 1 | ch 3 | ch 5)

[barsformars]

Tricky

//

g - fluff, slighttttttt angst, suggestive

p - san x reader

w.c - 1.9k

t.w - san touching reader's naked body

c - san takes care of you when you get injured and are left all alone at home. the catch is? both of you obviously have feelings for each other but.....san

a.n - uusjsjjs this was requested through private message! im sorry it took so long lmao uh, this is just 1.9k of plotless words nothing will be solved by the end of the story so its almost like word vomit???

t.l - @closer-stars @jeongyunhoed @fairyofdusk

//

"It's not funny," you snarled at the pink haired boy who seemed to be overly amused at this situation in which both your arms were put in slings. You had slipped over a puddle of water, and that had sent you flying down the small flight of stairs right outside the taekwondo dojang, resulting in two dislocated shoulders. San pressed his lips firmly into a tight line to stop the corners of them from quirking up. On one hand, he does feel really bad, but if he said you didn't look ridiculously hilarious right now, he'd be lying. "I wonder who was on the verge of tears earlier on."

"That's because you were in so much pain I felt so bad for having asked you over for a sparring session!" San defended himself, a small pout forming as he did so. "At least the body and shin guards saved you from breaking your bones."

Once the elevator reached your floor, San pressed on the button to hold them open while keeping a close eye on you as you slowly exited. You've never noticed how much arm or shoulder action happens when you walk, until now.

It was only when you stepped through your front door and noticed your roommate's house slippers still sitting on the bottom of the shoe rack do you remember that they were out on a business trip. Being alone at home right now wasn't an option for you when you couldn't do anything by yourself, but your roommate wouldn't be back till next week. You didn't want to burden any of your other friends so late in the night, you had no choice but to rely on San.

But things...are always a little trickier with him.

"I can only stay for tonight," San sighed as he placed his phone down on the coffee table. You don't know if it was a sigh of relief or one of frustration; he had pleaded over the phone for ten minutes. "But my manager said that they can send someone over to help you out for the next few days."

"It's alright, I'll ask Jimin for help tomorrow. If they aren't available, I'll let you know, yea?" San nods, though rather reluctantly. He trusts that you'll be able to take care of yourself, except physically for now at least.

San holds you by the waist to support you as you got up from the couch, keeping an arm wrapped around it as he brought you to the bathroom. "Please tell me you have a bathtub."

"I insisted on having one, glad it's finally of actual use."

"Oh yeah."

As you soaked in the warm bath that San had ran for you, you couldn't help but think of everything that has been happening between the two of you. The lingering touches, the jokes with double meanings, the way he gazes at you so softly, and the sudden tension that fills up the atmosphere following all those. San hasn't put a title over what this relationship was, and you've been too afraid to take the lead even though you knew that friends don't act like that towards one another. You didn't want to pressure him, he already has a lot on his plate. But he ought to give you an answer soon if he's about to see you in your most vulnerable state, right?

There comes another knock on the door, the tenth one in the whole duration of your bath. "I was being serious when I said don't try to act tough and do everything alone." The knocking continued on non-stop until you replied.

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" You joked. "I'm done, I need help getting out."

"Not impatient, just worried." You hear his back leave the door for a moment as he stood up from the floor. And as politely as he could be while intruding into your private space, San pushed open the toilet door gently and stepped in after informing you first. You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your throat when you took sight of him, his eyes shut close in consideration that you might not want him seeing you naked.

"Oh, you're laughing? At me?" San asked in disbelief as he pulled his arms that were searching for the wall back and rested his hands on his hips, a playful smile growing on his face. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're cute," you cooed, much to his dismay.

"I'm not cute!" San argued, his eyes now open and glaring at you, still rather adorably. But before you could tease him any further, San practically stomped his way to the bathtub, leaning down to your eye level as his arms gripped onto the sides. "Don't mistake my manners for cuteness, I'm not." He said, almost with a growl, as he reached into the water and wrapped his strong arms around your torso, pulling you up so that you could stand. Taking pride in the way your eyes widened in surprise, San couldn't help but smirk before giving you a quick peck on your forehead. "You're cute."

Once he got you out of the bathtub, San tried his best to not look at your body as he dried you up with a towel while you stood there blankly, still at a complete loss for words. "You're so rude," you told San after finally able to process whatever just happened a minute ago. The boy merely raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed. "Taking advantage of my injuries to show off your strength when you know how I feel about it."

"Well, you're not stupid, you know how I feel about you. It's only normal I act cool a little," San replied nonchalantly but you could tell that he was too afraid to look you in the eye. "Come on, let's go get you dressed."

"Also, just thought that you should know...." San paused for a moment to make sure that you dried your feet properly on the mat before continuing. "I almost patted your bare ass earlier on." You can't even blame him. With how touchy he and his members are, you aren't even surprised that touching people's butt has become their second nature. But even then, he really didn't have to tell you.

"TMI dude."

San had been watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on shirts with a dislocated shoulder while waiting for you to wash up earlier on. You wouldn't have known either if he wasn't showing off all the knowledge that he had learnt less than half an hour ago by trying to convince you quite passionately, and with demonstrations, about why a dress shirt would be much easier to put on than a t-shirt, especially in your case.

"I will. I will wear dress shirts until my shoulders recover," you sighed heavily in defeat. "But just for tonight, can you help me with a t-shirt? I want to sleep comfortably even if it's just for tonight."

This time it was San's turn to sigh as he reached out to pinch your cheek. "I already told you that it will hurt."

"Make it not hurt then." You shook your head so that he would let go.

"Just sleep naked then," San mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, causing you to scowl at the boy. He catches your expression and sticks his tongue out at you. "Am I wrong?"

"T-shirt," you stated firmly, refusing to comply even when you knew San only had the best intentions for you in mind. You already don't think you could sleep with two injured shoulders, much less with your crush staying the night with you, and definitely even much lesser with an uncomfortable sleeping outfit. "Or I'll bite you." Those words becoming a reality became much more probable when his dimples makes an appearance once again, resembling the dent on a mochi when you press into it with a finger.

"I don't think that's a wise idea right now, maybe next time-" he gave you a gentle boop on the top of your nose with his finger-"now, your majesty, may I help you put on your gold thread shirt made from silk of the finest quality on so that both me and you can be spared from getting ourselves into a tricky situation?" If you could throw a punch at San right now, you would, but all you could do right now was to sit on the bed quietly and accept the teasing. And also whatever San was about to do to help you put on the shirt.

You wonder if it's too late to change your choice of clothing after San kneels down behind you on the bed, his chest and toned abdomen almost plastered onto your back as he reached over your shoulders to grab your forearms. "I need you to put your arms a little closer together, we'll have to try to get both through the sleeves together," he explained clearly and waited for your nod before he moved your arms as cautiously as he could, his eyes studying every twitch of your facial expression to check for discomfort or pain. "Tell me if it hurts okay? Don't act tough, I keep telling you that but please, please don't act tough."

All you could manage was a soft "mhm", your throat feeling too tight for proper words to come out of your mouth. You wonder if San, like how you could feel the warmth of his hands and body, could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks too. "I'm going to pull both sleeves up now, it may hurt a little," San warned, one hand coming up to pat your head affectionately before he gripped onto the sleeves again. Even with how gentle he was being, a wince still manages to escape from you, putting a pause on San's actions as he tilt his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, it will be over soon." You nodded, fully trusting him.

Though there were still a couple more times your shoulders hurt before the sleeves were fully through, the little apology he makes every time that happens comforts you, and also, makes your heart beats embarrassingly fast. Getting your head through the hole was a much easier feat and it didn't take long before your shirt was on.

San got off your bed to fetch his backpack and for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out the painkillers that you were prescribed with but instead, he took out two boxes of shoulder brace. "When did you even get that?" You asked, amused and touched at the same time. The shoulder slings the hospital had put you in was terribly uncomfortable and while the brace may not be way better, it was still better than the sling.

"When you were getting your x-ray done," San replied with a proud smile.

"Aw, I would give you a pat on your head if I could."

Upon hearing that, San practically shoved his pink hair into your face as he bent down. "You can kiss me on my head."

"I will bite you."

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[one-boring-person]

I Trust You.

Marko (The Lost Boys) x Chiraptophobic!reader

Warnings: very vague mention of abuse, but they do not apply to the reader necessarily.

Context: The reader suffers from chiraptophobia (the fear of physical human contact/touch) and has somehow found themself in a friendship with Marko, who has somehow managed to understand how to not constantly need to touch his friend to show affection, until they take a ride on the Ferris wheel.

A/N: This was interesting to write, so j hope it's turned out alright. I guess I took a little inspiration from Death Stranding's Sam, but I thought it would be fun to do which it was. I hope it's enjoyable!😊💛

Masterlist

It took Marko weeks to finally figure out why I always shied away from his advances, why I'd stared uncomfortably at his offered hand until he withdrew it when he'd tried to shake mine in greeting, why I always wore gloves even in the suffocatingly hot summer air (despite him doing the same), and why I wouldn't go near people I don't know personally, often doing my hardest to steer clear of others in general. Rather than ask, he tried to work it out for himself, observing my behaviour and mannerisms for hours on end, though he still couldn't get what was up with my actions. He'd had to ask for some help from the others, though only David and Dwayne could offer any plausible reasons as to why: maybe I'd been abused in my past and was now averse to unfamiliar human contact, or maybe I was a germophobe. When the young vampire had asked me about both, I'd quickly denied them, thinking that it is unlikely he'd understand the real reason for my odd behaviour. It was only when he saw another person try to shake my hand that he finally noticed the emotion passing through my eyes at the prospect, at which point it all clicked into place. I was afraid of the contact.

Explaining to him what chiraptophobia is was surprisingly easy, though he was a little disappointed by this fact, being a very touch-driven person when around others, even when not in a relationship, though he did manage to take it in his stride, taking time to inform the boys of this as well, in case one of them accidentally made me uncomfortable. He'd nearly ripped Paul's head off when the taller vampire tried to wrap his arm around my shoulders, only letting up when I told him it was alright, that there was no harm done, despite how uneasy I felt afterwards. Since then, Marko has become almost like a bodyguard for me, making sure no one ever comes into my personal space, all while keeping his distance, too, respecting my limits.

We became fast friends, so much so that he eventually told me his secret, revealing his true self to me on one of the nights we chose to hang out together, alone, on the beach, a night I'd never forget. Naturally, I'd been shaken by this revelation, but soon grew used to the idea, knowing that my friend would never hurt me, not intentionally. After a few months, I finally felt comfortable enough to let him touch my gloved hand, though it still made me feel a little uneasy, the sensation of another person's fingers on mine unfamiliar and disturbing to me, but it made the vampire unbelievably happy, a bright smile plastering itself across his face for the rest of the night. He tells me he had to fight off the urge to hug me, for which I'm very grateful - touching a covered hand is very different to being enveloped in an embrace. Since then, he's taken any chance he can get to hold or touch my hand, always beaming like a beacon when he does so, my discomfort in the contact fading a little over time, though I'd soon found that it was only with the curly haired blonde that my body reacted like this, having asked Dwayne to try at some point, to see if it improved overall. Having come up negative in this test, I gave contact one last try with David, who never seems to take off his gloves, only to find that his touch made me uneasy as much as Dwayne's had, despite the two layers of cloth between our respective fingertips. The memory still sets me on edge, though I am well aware it has nothing to do with either David or Dwayne, rather my own mentality.

A shiver goes up my spine as I feel a hand slip into mine, though I quickly recognise the young vampire stepping in beside me, my stance relaxing again when my body realises whose touch it is, though my arm still remains a little tense, out of habit. Reassuringly, Marko swipes a thumb over the back of my glove, glad that I haven't rejected the contact yet, meaning I'm doing better than normal.

"Hey Stranger." He greets, grinning widely at me.

"Hey Blondie." I reply, smiling back at him in return, before casting a quick glance around for the others, "What'd you do with the other three?"

"They're around. Not sure where." The young vampire shrugs, dismissing the question quickly, "How was your day?"

"Not too bad. I didn't get much work done though, I was too preoccupied."

"Preoccupied? With what?" Marko inquires, raising an eyebrow at me in confusion, though his lips are still quirked up into an amused curve.

"That's for me to know, and for you to figure out." I chuckle, tapping the side of my nose secretively.

"Challenge accepted." He smirks, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

I smile at him as we walk, knowing he'll figure it out eventually, the answer being a little closer to home than he thinks.

"Anyway, how'd you sleep?" I question him, eyeing the Ferris wheel off to the side of the Boardwalk.

"Better than usual, actually."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Paul didn't snore so much for once, and David wasn't muttering in his sleep either, so it was pretty quiet, altogether." He explains, smiling when I laugh at the mention of David.

"Wait, David talks in his sleep?"

"Yeah, but you can't tell anyone! And especially don't tell him that I told you, or I'll have my ass kicked to the moon and back." Marko grins, biting his thumb as if nervous, though I'm aware that this is one of his signature mannerisms.

"That's a lot of ass-kicking. Probably quite impressive to watch. " I muse, noticing his arm lift slightly, as if to give me a playful slap on the arm, as he normally would've done with someone else, only to briefly squeeze my hand instead, shaking his head in mock exasperation. I grin at him, before turning my gaze back towards the Ferris wheel, admiring the glittering lights in the black night sky, wondering what the view is like up there.

"Wanna take a ride?" Marko interrupts my thoughts, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Huh?" I blurt out, not having heard his question, quickly snapping my eyes back to his.

"Do you wanna go on the wheel with me?" He repeats, gesturing with a nod of the head to the great circular structure a little way away.

"I would love to, but I don't have any money on me tonight. I forgot my change." I say, somewhat remorsefully, using my free hand to pat my pockets to check for any loose coins, though I'm well aware I have none, having spent it all on food earlier in the evening.

"Who said anything about you paying? Come on, it'll be fun!" The blonde vampire promises, pulling me into the crowd, which parts around us thanks to his reputation (and choice of company), meaning no one comes into touching distance. At one point, my arm brushes past some surfer's bare bicep, which sends uncomfortable shivers and goosebumps through my body, the bitter, irrational fear that comes with it soon biting at the back of my mind, my pulse picking up slightly in response, my muscles turning rigid under my clothes. Marko notices this, briefly stopping to make sure I'm ok, before turning to memorize the surfer's face, most likely intending to take it up with him later, before we continue on, swiftly reaching the shortening queue for the Ferris wheel. Beside me, Marko fidgets and shifts in place, clearly eager to get on the rotating structure, his thumb between his teeth as usual, doe eyes focused on the ticket booth.

"Calm down, Blondie. The wheel isn't going anywhere." I laugh, watching the people around us as they amble to and fro, inching out of the way as a group of made-up girls push past, wincing as I brush against Marko, only to feel surprised when I don't feel the usual discomfort rising up in me from the contact, setting a train of thought into motion. I barely notice as the queue diminishes, only really returning to the present when we reach the booth, at which point Marko buys two tickets and leads me into one of the seats. An attendant comes over to help us secure ourselves, but Marko quickly stares him down, doing the job himself with efficiency.

Not too long after, we've reached a decent way off from the ground, our feet swinging gently in the air as we watch the Boardwalk from above, grinning and joking with each other as we take it in turns pointing out random individuals, making comments about them until the other laughs. At one point, the young vampire manages to spot David, Dwayne and Paul, making some sort of remark about how the leader's hair "looks like a pineapple from the top", before comparing the latter's to a mop. I do my best to hold back my laughter, but it only results in me nearly choking as he starts pointing out more and more likenesses between his friends and everyday objects, tears threatening to spill as I struggle to contain myself. It is only in this moment, that I realise one thing, but it takes me a couple more minutes to act on the thought that has sprung to mind.

Slowly, I pull off my left glove, teasing each finger out of their designated space with a deliberate hesitation, wriggling them a bit once I've exposed them to the air, enjoying the sensation of the light breeze around my heated digits. Marko makes a point of ignoring this, turning his gaze up to the star-strewn sky instead, only to snap his eyes back to mine when he feels a single finger touch the skin of his hand. Gingerly, I trace it over his knuckle, expecting to feel a rush of discomfort, my movements careful and calculated, knowing this is the first time in years that I've had deliberate contact with another person's skin. From my fingertip, it feels as if an electric shock has travelled through me, butterflies suddenly appearing in my stomach. Biting my lip when nothing bad happens, I continue this movement with the rest of my fingers, cautiously slipping my hand into his, enjoying the feeling of his icy cold palm against my warmed one, my eyes finding his shocked ones as our fingers intertwine. In them, I find a tonne of questioning, though he makes no move to actually ask, instead remaining quiet, carefully tightening his grip around my hand as he tries his best to feel as much of my soft skin as he can, the calluses from the handlebars of his bike rubbing slightly.

"What does this mean?" He eventually queries, elated that he can finally hold my hand without a glove being in the way.

"It means that I trust you. I've had no reaction to your contact, and I think it's because I enjoy being with you, and also because you've increased my confidence levels a lot since we first met. I've been trying to figure out why I'm ok with you touching me and no one else all day, which is why I was too preoccupied to work, but I finally worked it out." I inform him, telling him part of the truth - in reality, my trust goes a lot further than wanting a platonic friendship.

Marko is quiet for a moment, as if not quite understanding what I've told him.

"You trust me?" His voice is laced with disbelief, eyes fixing on mine again.

"I do."

Eyes widening again, he smiles, his other hand coming up, as if to try and wrap me in a hug, but the awkward positioning of the barrier, as well as the reminder of my usual discomfort, stop him in his tracks, his hand tightening around mine instead .

"I'm really glad you feel that way, (Y/n). Not many people do." He chuckles, referring to the naturally predatory air he gives off, being a vampire and all, still surprised that I let him touch me.

"I feel safe around you because I know you're my friend, but not many people can have the same claim." I point out, watching the view a little, enjoying the sight of the many glittering lights sprawled out before me, admiring the tiny orange specks of fires on the beach, as well as the rapidly moving headlights of a train passing through the outskirts of Santa Carla, most likely heading out towards the Bridge.

"Fair point." Marko agrees, still staring at our joined hands, which he continues to do until we reach the bottom of the wheel again, at which point he has to let go in order to remove the barrier from our laps. As soon as we're back on the Boardwalk, however, I slip my hand back into his, a small feeling of warmth welling up in me as I see the bright smile splitting his face, clearly happy that I've willingly made contact with him again.

A whistle behind us draws our attention, the sound belonging to a grinning Paul, who approaches us, along with David and Dwayne, who are both smiling at the sight of us, the latter more so than the former, though both seem glad to see their friend happy. As they come closer, I make eye contact with Dwayne, who lifts an eyebrow in questioning, a smirk making its way onto his face when I silently give him a nod, knowing he understands what it means.

I've fallen hard for the blonde vampire who's helped me get over my fear.

[dindooku]

Now you’d had your fair share of tense meetings and interrogations before, but this one definitely takes the cake.

rating: E (swearing)

word count: 5,236

You stood in the middle of a large, circular room, surrounded by beings of similar attire to Kenobi. Some looked to be human, whilst some most definitely did not. Kenobi had given you a brief rundown of some of the council members on your way over, but the only two names you could remember were Windu and Yoda. He’d also advised you to address all as master, and that Yoda was referred to as the grandmaster, although he wasn’t too strict on formalities — which relieved you…a bit.

Before you had the chance to say anything, Obi-Wan introduced you.

“Council Members, this is Amy. She is a Commanding Officer for the 118th SAS forces from a planet named Earth. Unfortunately, we have never heard of the planet Earth, and Amy has found herself in an unfortunate circumstance. Amy, please can you explain to the Council Members how you arrived at Coruscant?”

Kenobi was being incredibly punctual towards the council members, and you got the hint. So, you tried your best to return the formalities in your response, using your Officer tone should do the trick.

“Council Members. Unfortunately, I would not call my presence to Coruscant expected, as to which you are most probably aware. On my planet, Earth, I am a commanding officer in our Special Services, who operates specialist operations and undertakes highly strenuous, dangerous, and tensile missions, including counter-terrorism, sieges, reconnaissance, and more. My most recent mission, however, is the cause for my attendance on Coruscant today.”

“My mission was to lead a command group of 6 into a classified area of uncharted forestry within the Amazon Rainforest. Upon entering the target co-ordinates close proximity, we happened upon an ancient temple, of sorts — which was decorated in the same symbols which line the pillars of this temple. Upon breaching the ancient temple, it became apparent that it was abandoned, or had not been interfered with for centuries. Upon reaching the center of the temple, I made my way through and into the middle of the room, in which I found myself blocked by an invisible force…a wall of sorts — it was nothing I had ever encountered before. I made the fatal mistake of touching this…wall, and if I remember correctly, it… it electrocuted me. It was odd… the whole room was static beforehand, and there was a significant shift in the temperature too — but what was even more abnormal was the fact that I was the only one that felt it. Anyway, after touching the…wall, I found myself waking up on the floor of one of the streets here, on Coruscant, and the rest is history.”

After finishing your little speech you took a deep breath in, and out. You needed to relax, your nerves were getting the best of you. You chanced a look over to Obi-Wan, who gave you a comforting look and a small, friendly smile.

“Unusual, this is. Heard of, it is not…” the little green frog thing spoke, and you quickly recognized this to be Grand Master Yoda.

“Yes, I agree. Say, you said you’re from a planet called, Earth?” Another Master asked.

“Ugh, yes, Master…” you stutter, realizing you didn’t know his name.

“Master Windu, but you can call me Mace,” Windu replied. He was just as stoic as Obi-Wan, however, his presence seemed to be darker, more stern, less patient — not necessarily a bad thing, but you knew you couldn’t give this guy shit, you had to be straight with him.

“Mace, um, yes, my planet is called Earth, from the Milky Way Galaxy,” you re-iterate.

“And you say you…you touched this invisible wall? And it electrocuted you?” He asked, leaning forward slightly on his chair, now resting his chin on his hand which was situated on one of the armrests.

“Yes, Sir, it… I could see my reflection, even though there was no mirror or ‘wall’, I can’t really describe it, it’s nothing I have ever experienced,” you mutter the last part of the sentence, you’re still just as puzzled by the strange events as you were as they happened.

“Interesting, this is,” Yoda chimes in again, his big ears drooping slightly as he rubbed his chin in thought. You glance back to Obi-Wan, who again meets your gaze with his, this time however he seems more concerned, his face wasn’t graced with his smile, and instead, it spoke of uncertainty. This certainly didn’t make you feel any better.

“And, you say that you felt a change in the feeling of the place?” Mace pressed.

“Yes, Mace, it…when we first entered the temple. The first thing I noticed was the temperature change, it felt hot, stifling even. But the biggest shift was odd, there was electromagnetic interference, my intercom stopped working, making a static sound from my mic piece. It also seemed to have an effect on my thought processes…everything became clouded almost like I was in a haze. Then, once I entered the central room, the temperature shifted to ice-cold, and the static grew even louder, to the point that when I was close to touching the wall, I couldn’t hear my men shouting at me. They…they were…” you couldn’t finish your sentence, the look of pure fear in their eyes had ripped you open. Now that you look back at the memory, you can feel the brutality of what has transpired in the last 24 hours. Their screams were hoarse, terrified. You’d never heard them like that, and the pure horror on their face, as if you’d just disappeared, it terrified you. Sensing your distress, Obi-Wan interjects.

“I think it’s wise we come up with a contingency plan, Masters,” he suggests. You hear his words but you’re still in a haze, the gravity of the situation was pressing down on you with an unbelievable weight.

“Hmm, stay with you, she must. Protect her, you will. Trained, are you, in combat?” Yoda asks.

“Uh, yes, Master Yoda. I have over 10 years of SAS operations experience. I’m specially trained in hand-to-hand combat and tactical assault.” You confirm. You were proud of your experience within the Army, but not necessarily proud of all the things you’d done…some haunted you, and those were secrets, admissions you were not yet ready to face.

“Great, this is. Accompany Master Kenobi on missions, you will help each other, you must.”

A wave of comfort and relief rolled over you. You’re glad that you know that you won’t be separated from the one person you trust on this god forsaken planet. If it means being escorted everywhere, you’d rather that than be left on the street, trying to find your way back across the Galaxy, home… if that was even an option anymore. You turned to Kenobi, who once again greeted you with a smile, this one wider than the others. It was infectious, and before you could control yourself, you were smiling giddily back at him. Jesus, what was this guy doing to you?!

“Master Yoda, may I ask where Amy will be staying? Surely there is a spare block or room she can—,”

“Padawan room, do you not have, Kenobi?” Yoda asked, interrupting Obi-Wan.

“Y-yes, Master Yoda?”

“Then stay there, she will. A close eye must be kept on young Amy, dangerous times this is, odd circumstances we find ourselves in. Time for doubt, there is not.” Yoda sternly replies. He really is one grumpy frog.

“Yes, Master,” Kenobi replies, keeping himself civilized despite his clear questioning of the living arrangement.

And with that, the council meeting was adjourned. Masters instantly began to filter out, obviously having places to be. You waited to be dismissed, as was habit, and after waiting you found yourself drifting into a distant trance of concentration — reliving the haunted events of your last mission.

Again, cutting you from your thoughts, Obi-Wan places a hand on your shoulder. His touch makes you jump, and you instantly crane your neck up to his, your eyes searching his for a hint of emotion other than pain and fear. And with a little quirk of his lips, he brings you out of your stupor, returning the feeling of giddy happiness you had felt only minutes ago. You relished in his ability to read you like a book and pull you out of your own mind, bringing you to the present moment, layering positive, good emotions over your soul. He was helping you in more ways than you could imagine, and you were helping him in more ways than he could, too.

“Come, let’s go get some food. I know a place,” he smirked, and you couldn’t resist the giggle which tickled your throat, so you caved, relishing in the moment. You followed him out towards the exit of the temple.

_____

Words simply could not describe what you were feeling right now. Maybe going to Dex’s on your first day was a step too far.

The complete multitude of emotions you were feeling was unfathomable. You’d compiled a mental list of things you’d never thought you would ever see in your lifetime:

* Flying cars: check

* Aliens: check

* Floating buildings: check

* Actual motherfucking wizards: check

These were just a few, and unsurprisingly it was the last one that caught you off guard.

“So I'm going to start calling you Gandalf now… or Potter…actually, space Jesus suits you better,” you chuckle from the diner seat of Dex’s restaurant. Obi-Wan had insisted that this was the best diner in town, and it was odd really, giving off a homely vibe - American diner aesthetic. This, you could get behind.

“Gandalf, Potter, Spa—Space Jesus? Who in Maker's name is Jesus?” Obi-Wan laughs heartily, these names really were something — he was truly awestruck in your imagination, the depths of your mind, and its ability to pull off wild stunts and stories like this.

“Well, Jesus is some guy from Earth, he’s from a Religion called Christianity. He’s the son of God, who some believe created all things. Kinda crazy if you ask me but each to their own, I don’t blame them. Potter is a wizard, he’s a kid’s book character who is basically going through what I am right now. Gets sucked into a world of magic and has to find his way through it, learning along the way. But Gandalf, he’s the real legend—,”

“Legend? Now, tell me about this Gandalf guy,” Kenobi chimes, leaning forwards in his seat, placing his head further over the table. He was completely and utterly enthralled by your descriptions.

“Well, see, Gandalf is known as Gandalf the Grey. He was a fine man, who was quick to anger, but just as quick to laugh. He had incredible wisdom, something he earned over his time in middle earth along Valinor. He was a mighty warrior, but also a gentle creature, who cared for all creatures of good-will and took pity upon those who were weak,” you scrambled. Finally being able to express your inner nerdy bookworm was therapeutic, especially when the one listening was as invested as dear Obi-Wan.

“Go on, don’t stop!” He nearly shouts, leaning closer in, his smile pulling an infectious grin from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat.

“Well, Gandalf had immense power, but he would only use it to protect the innocent and good-willed. He fought for himself and himself alone, he was a server of Justice and Morality, no matter the consequences. Gandalf was a wise, wise man — funnily similar to Dumbledore, in fact,—”

“Who is the God’s name is Dumbledore?!” Obi-Wan laughed, completely dumbfounded that there was, even more, to go by. He loved his life on Coruscant and wouldn’t change it for anything, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t envy your experiences or knowledge of said wisdom-full wizards.

“Don’t even get me started on Dumbledore!” You laughed, leaning even further into the table. Never in your life had you gotten along with someone so well. It was weird, it almost felt like you’d known each other forever, and where just catching up after a long vacation. You were instantly best friends, and you certainly wouldn’t complain about being best friends with a man like Obi-Wan. The higher powers were certainly shining down on this boy when he was brought into the Galaxy. Something just clicked between you both, and you couldn’t feel more alive if you tried.

But, before you could give your hour-long prepped speech on why Dumbledore was the best wizard of them all, a robot had rolled over to arrive with your meal.

“Here’ya’are Darlin, ya new around here, aren’t ya?” The machine asked.

“Ugh, yeah, yeah I am, how could you tell?” You asked, slightly uneasy by the clear Artificial Intelligence of the robot.

“Honey, I would have remembered that pretty face of yours if I’d seen it before, sweetheart. Ya stunnin”,” she exclaimed. You instantly blush at the compliment. Even though she was just a machine, you felt like you were talking to a living being, and you didn’t mind that if all droids were this nice. You chance a look at Obi-Wan, only to see him nervously tugging with a loose chord at the end of his sleeve, although he couldn’t hide the smug blush that was plaguing his cheeks, bless.

“Thank you for your compliments... and the food looks delicious, thank you!” You chime back, eyes now glued to the incredibly crunchy-looking fries in front of you.

“Corellian taters’ are the best darlin’, enjoy!” She jingles before scooting off to serve the next customer.

You both quickly delve into your meals. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had any food of some sort of sustenance. You lived of ration packs in the Army, and a specially cooked hot meal was like Christmas for you. But, curiosity still has you in a bitter grip, so you pause for a moment and peer up to Obi-Wan.

“What is a��Jedi?” You ask, now completely and utterly interested in understanding who exactly he is.

Obi-Wan stops mid-mouthful, slowly putting the fry he was about to devour back into the basket. He clears his throat and straightens up a little as if he’s about to give some sort of memorized speech.

“Well, my dear, Jedi are warriors of the Light, we are a force of good upon the land we live in. We are protectors who are united in our ability to utilize the Force, and maintain inner tranquility through seeking balance, avoiding emotions of anger and hatred, as those emotions lead to the Dark Side—,”

Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, Hercules. The Force? Light side, Dark side… elaborate,” you interject. This was all a bit crazy.

“Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi their power. It’s an energy field created by all living things, it surrounds us and penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together.” He exclaims. The worlds roll like honey off of his tongue, and you can tell you’re already addicted to his voice.

“…continue”

“Well, the Light Side of the force is the path that Jedi choose to walk, making ourselves vessels to the Force. The Dark Side is quite the opposite. Those that choose the path of the Dark side are considered Sith, and their intentions are solely individual, profitable.” He finishes. You can feel his emotion rolling off him in swathes. As soon as he mentioned Sith, his emotions dropped, the smile that once graced his handsome face is all but banished, instead, a hurt frown cripples his emotions. Trying to pull him out of his stupor, you blurt out the first question that comes to mind.

“So what powers do you have?” You ask, blunt as a knife.

“Well, for starters, I can do this,” he chuckles, and without moving a muscle a single fry starts to hover in the air right in front of your face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whisper in astonishment. The fry drops immediately, and you bore a daring stare in Obi-Wan.

“How many times have I got to reprimand you on your language?” He chides, placing a hand out to quickly pick up and munch on the chip that had just been ceremoniously dangled by some invisible strings in front of your face.

“Do it again,” you demand, you have to see this again, just to make sure you’re truly not seeing things.

“If you insist,” he chuckles and points to a speeder parked just outside the window. And without even a hint of strain, the speeder lifts precariously in the air and swivels slowly around on an axis. You glance back at Obi-Wan, who is intently staring at the speeder. You look back, only to watch him gently place the speeder back down, now facing the opposite way from before.

“This is some Matilda bullshit right here,” you mutter, eyes plastered open in awe. You couldn’t imagine this man to be any better. He was incredibly handsome, so kind to an extent it hurts your heart, and now he’s just revealed he’s some sort of telekinetic space God. But your thoughts are cut short but the firm grip on your chin. Your eyes dart back to Obi-Wan, who is now glaring daggers your way.

His grip is firm on your chin, and he brings his head in closer to yours, maintaining strict eye contact.

“Stop. Swearing. Or I will have to make you.” This wasn’t an aggressive threat, not one that is meant to scare you or frighten you — no…this was something else. Obi-Wan Kenobi was flirting, and God’s… did he know how to press your buttons; all the right ones at least. And he seemed to have done the trick because now you’re completely and utterly breathless. All you can do is stare intently at the man you are now absolutely, one hundred percent reeling for right now. Fuck, you love space wizards, especially ones named fucking Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“I can read minds too, darling,” he mutters, slowly removing his grip on your chin, satisfied that he’s made his point…obviously pleased with the results.

“Hold up, you can read minds!? So you know what I’m thinking all the time?”

“Not all the time, only if I pry, but you are incredibly loud sometimes, dear,” he counters, getting back to eating his fries before they turn cold.

“…loud?” Okay, now you’re genuinely confused.

“Your thoughts are loud, but only sometimes. Yours is an odd case, sometimes I can hear what you’re saying, and sometimes I can't. Your energy in the force is…unstable. See, everyone has a Force signature, and when you have a large affinity of Midichlorians, you’re able to harbor the Force in greater ways, however, with you, it seems…the opposite, like you...repel the force, sometimes -- when your emotions are getting the better of you. This is something I haven’t seen before, and I think that is why Master Yoda wanted us to stay together, to make sure that we keep this under control,” He confesses, he begins slowly rubbing his chin in thought, clearly perplexed by whatever theory that was running around in that incredible head of his.

“Well, okay, Midichlorians? Force signature… I, I’m sorry but I don’t understand what you mean…and, maybe…could you maybe teach me to not be so…loud?” You ask, trying not to show your hesitation. Force signature? Did he say I repel the Force? As exciting as being next to Obi-Wan, it was also quite terrifying to know that, or to feel like there was something wrong with you, and that they had no idea how or what to do…and that for the meantime you’re just going to have to sit around and make yourself useful. But, thinking about the incredible telekinesis you’d just witnessed, excitement at the possibility of living out an actual dream gripped you again. Maybe he could teach you a few tricks, in return for you teaching him?

“I don’t see why not?” He replies, that beautiful smile of his returning to his lips. It truly was marvelous, and you knew you’d never be able to get enough of it. “Come, finish up your food and we’ll head back, you need sleep, you’ve had a busy day.”

______

 For the second time today, you found yourself stood outside of Obi-Wan’s flat…apartment…condo…whatever it was. Pressing a button like before, the door whooshes open and you both walk in, with it closing with another electronic hum behind you.

Obi-Wan instantly heads into the kitchen to switch on what you assumed was the kettle. Not knowing what to do with yourself you stood like a lost child in the middle of the living room, rolling on your feet a little and swinging your arms. This whole day was incredibly overwhelming, and you couldn’t, even in your wildest dreams, even begin to imagine what you’d experienced…and even though your circumstances could be seen as quite horrific and terrifying, you couldn’t help but feel happy to be here, happy to be in the presence of Obi-Wan and other incredibly magnificent beings, in this huge temple, on a grand planet, in the middle of another motherfucking Galaxy. The pure scale of your circumstances isn’t comprehendible, and you don’t think it ever will be.

“Tea, darling?” You hear faintly, like a whisper from deep within your mind. Odd, you don’t remember thinking about Tea…Tea isn’t really a deciding factor in your circumstances right now, why are you thinking of —

“Hello? Amy, my dear, where have you gone?…she was here just a second ago…” you hear, turning around you see Obi-Wan, walking from the kitchen and walking around his apartment. He was…he was looking for you? But you’re right here, can’t he see you?

“Obi-Wan, stop playing I’m right here,” you say, but no sound leaves your lips. Huh, that's weird. You go to take a step towards him to pat him on the shoulder but as you go to touch him, your hand falls through his shoulder as if…as if you don’t exist. Okay, this was starting to freak you out, this was like back when you were on Earth when the Boys couldn’t see you. You quickly glance around the apartment, remembering that you left your backpack in the bedroom. You rush into the bedroom and try to dig through it but like before, your hands just slip through the objects in front of you. You need to concentrate, center yourself. So, you close your eyes, control your breathing and reach out, again, trying to touch the bag. As soon as you make contact, something shoots through you like ice, and before you know it, you’re touching your backpack in the bedroom, for real.

“Oh! There you are, I didn’t hear you creep off, would you like some tea, my Dear?” Obi-Wan asks, leaning on the doorframe casually. You don’t have the mental capacity to admire it right now, you’re still trying to process what exactly just happened. “Are you…are you okay?” He asks, now slipping off the doorframe and heading towards you, clearly concerned over your sudden change in demeanor.

“Yes, yeah, I’m fine, thanks, just…I think the events of the last day or so are starting to catch up on me..aha,” you say, laughing awkwardly towards the end in a sorry effort to convince him that you’re just tired and not absolutely shitting it at the fact that you just disappeared for a minute or so.

“If you’re sure…Tea will help, come,” He says, holding out his hand to you. You go to take it but hesitate slightly, and he notices but doesn’t let on. You take his hand, and you make your way into the kitchen.

_____

 “So what Tea would you like?” He asks as he sets two cups out on the counter.

“Um, well, just regular…Tea?” You reply, completely unsure if Tea here is the same as Tea at home.

“Well, I’ve got Corellian, Naboo special, Coruscant special blend…” he says, but before he can finish his sentence you remember something.

“Wait, gimme a sec!” And before he can process what you've said, you’re bounding into the bedroom once again to grab your food pack. Once back in the kitchen, you open the tin and pull out a Teabag. “Tetley's will do—” you say, grabbing one of the cups and placing the teabag inside. Then, you grab a sachet of sugar from the tin and pour it in.

“…Tetley’s, I can’t say I’ve heard of that kind of Tea before?” Obi-Wan mumbles.

“Well, it’s alright, not the best and not the worst, but still good ol’ British tea!” You laugh. Tea was your savior during excursions, it was one of the only homely comforts you could bring with you, having possessions and trinkets just wasn’t an option, but Tea? Everyone has time for a cuppa. Just as you finish the kettle goes off and you make a move to grab it, pouring the hot water into the cup. Next, you take one of the spoons Obi-Wan layed out and twirl the teabag in the cup, making sure to get the most out of it. “Do you, um, have any Milk?” You ask.

“Milk, I mean, I have blue milk in—,” he says as he fills his cup of tea up too.

“Wait…Blue. Milk?” You chuckle, dumbfounded by what you’re hearing.

“Yes…Blue milk,” Obi-Wan reiterates, almost in a way as if to say are you crazy? What, you don’t know what blue milk is?

“I—I think I'll pass on the Blue Milk—,” you chuckle, today couldn’t get any weirder. Instead, you fish out the teabag from the cup and place it on the small plate before you, and then you grab the small sachet of condensed milk from your rations tin and pour it in, swirling the mixture with the teaspoon from before.

“Wait, you put milk in your tea?” He asks, again absolutely dumbfounded by what’s going on in front of him. Milk…in tea? That's criminal!

“Ugh…yeah? Here, try this,” you say, fishing once again through the ration tin to grab a small bag of malted milk biscuits. You dunk one into your tea and quickly fish it out again, then hand it over to Obi-Wan. He looks at you hesitantly before slowly taking the biscuit, giving it a small sniff before taking a small bite. You watch him patiently with eager eyes, hoping that hell enjoy it.

“Oh…My God’s,” He mutters, his eyes blown wide at the new experience. “This…what is this?” He asks again, before sticking the whole biscuit into his mouth, practically hoovering it up.

“It's a malted milk biscuit, and this is British tea…on Earth, were pretty much the Godfather's of Tea” you laugh, enjoying the show of emotional turmoil playing out on Obi-Wan’s face.

“Malted Milk, British—Godfather?” He asks, completely and utterly lost to his own train of thought.

“You wouldn’t get it…” you say, taking a sip of your tea, but still maintaining eye contact with him as he revels in this new experience. And with that, the two of you sit and chatter on until both your pots of tea have gone cold, but neither of you cares, you’re both too enthralled in the conversation you’re both having to even realize a whole hour has yet again passed.

You chance a look at your watch only to see it's sitting comfortably at 11:48 PM. “Christ it’s late…” you mutter, blinking your eyes again to make sure you’re seeing it right.

“What is that?” Obi-Wan cuts your gaze, leaning over slightly and taking your wrist. He examines your watch intently, watching as the second-hand jumps around the watch face.

“It’s a watch,” you say, a little confused as to why it’s such a question. Surely they have clocks here?

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it, um, what are the three little spikey things? And what do the symbols mean?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Well—,” you say, leaning further in so your heads are only centimeters away as you both peer down at the watch on your wrist, “The spikes things are called hands, and they sit upon the watch face. The one that is jerking now is called the second's hand, as it counts each second. This hand,” you point to the biggest hand, “is called the minute hand, and this one, the smallest one, is called the hour's hand,” you finish, but Obi-Wan stays silent, like he’s in a trance of sorts, so you continue, “And, and these symbols, they’re called Roman Numerals, they’re an ancient form of literate numeracy used by the Roman’s, who were fierce warriors who existed thousands of years ago on my planet. They were incredibly intelligent for their time, I mean, all things considered. They invented many things, but they destroyed many, too.” You finish. And you just sit there, intently watching the metaphysical cogs turn in that astronomical mind of his. Normally manners would dictate it is rude to stare, but you can’t help yourself. Something about him is just so…right, so pure and genuine, innocent yet, violent, powerful, wise. People say that God’s and beings of mystical nature never existed, that it's just a hypothetical way of education and hindsight that humanity uses Legend and Fairytales to demonstrate the lessons of life; but at this moment you know that you’re in the presence of a truly, incredible being and that isn’t a fairytale, this isn’t legend, this is real, and you’re sat right next to him.

He slowly peers up from where he’s leaning over your wrist, and you lock eyes, once again, but now closer than you’ve ever been. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as it twists and curls around your lips, kindly caressing and making your breath hitch uncomfortably in your throat. But you welcome this discomfort, for you cannot believe you have lived life, thinking yourself happy, only to not have known Obi-Wan; and now you question few moments of your experiences on Earth, knowing that you would trade anything just to spend another second under his spell.

“We should, you…you should get some sleep. We have training tomorrow.” He quickly snaps, shaking his head slightly as he stands from his seat and grabs both cups, leaving them in the sink. He…did he not feel the same?

You cringe at yourself a little, silently kicking yourself for being so foolish and letting someone get under your skin like this. You’re better than this, for Christ’s sake! No, if he doesn’t feel the same, then you won’t force it. You’ll keep to yourself, and you’ll be respectful, no matter how much you want to be closer. And just like your previous thoughts, the tales of Legends burn a painful pinch of hindsight into your conscience — like Icarus, you flew too close to the sun.

“…You need your sleep if you’re to have any chance against me…” Obi-Wan mutters from the sink. And with that you instantly laugh, the titanic of emotions finally capsizing as you break your self-deprecative destruction.

“I could say the same for you, Master Kenobi,” you giggle, and before he has time to counter you’re skipping off to the Padawan bedroom which you’re now to call home…for the foreseeable future.

[gerardwritestuff]

May 7th 2018

I wonder what happened that day.

I wrote something in phases.

If you want a written entry on what happened I'll tell you.

But only you, I don't think I can trust anybody with this. Plus, no one wants to help me with it concerning my best interests so there's not much done with it.

Well for starters, you want the truth. Right?

You want the absolute truth but how am I warranted to give it to you? What can you do for me that's not euthanasia or some fucked up solution to helping me? What's your grand scheme that's supposedly shrouded in mystery that you can't tell me?

I don't know where to start.

"I think they can help. No, they can't."

It's a cycle.

This carousel of indecision had me so tied up in my own skin, I couldn't trust a soul. I felt like I was bound to perish and not a single person would help my cause.

You think you can help, but then you're faced with something much bigger than yourself and that's when you'll coward out because no one will ever want to take the stand for someone else.

Because that's love.

And no one's big enough to accept that. We shroud ourselves on the façade of help and care but people only care enough for you to stop being their problem after a while.

Pain is a real motivator; and I mean real, unfiltered, physical, raw pain. And the human body loves routine. So when you make pain a part of your routine your brain gives you an outlet.

And that's exactly what happened.

I lost my goddamn mind, at least I think I did. People love telling you things to shield you. No one wants to tell you the truth. It hurts. I thought I was doing the right thing all this time by telling people what they wanted to hear, but the truth is I only played the role of being this useless pawn in the game of life I've been living.

Now read between the lines.

Oh yeah, I remember, end of my second year of college.

Things were going all right, to say the least, I'd been having a blast and I'd thought I'd been doing alright but then I went to that damn counselor.

He gave me an alternative to religion. Told me that I could pour my heart and soul into this idea that everything around me was a message from God. That God was talking to me through the things around me. What the fuck.

My life changed completely.

People say schizophrenia isn't something that one could call an observable science. You can't make sense of it. Hell, it's been 2000 years and we still haven't made anything of it. Not like we're close to cracking the code to the human genome or anything of the sort.

I don't know what to tell you. I felt scared at the start. It was like the world was a chasm of wrath and evil and that everything around me screamed for an escape. But really, who was to blame? You can't expect one to live their lives normally after the truth comes out.

That's insanity. Isn't it?

There'd been a couple of things to contribute to this episode. I'd become shrouded in the fact that whatever I'd witnessed till now had been an amalgamation of my memories and that my perception wasn't driven by inference but by incredulity. The more I got lost in my thoughts, the farther away my sense of discernment drove me. Until then, I'd only ever seen life through the eyes of a fawn, and in this forest, there hadn't been a lot going on. Well, at least for me, that is.

I looked on with disbelief as everyone around me playing this game of pretense would never read between the lines. I fell to the ground thinking of how much I'd lived through basking in a bath of whim and false security. It suffocated me, pushing hard against my back as I sank face-first into the dirt. Nothing was ever the same, because nothing was ever as it seemed.

We try so hard to forget. It helps us, comforts us. We do it every day, as we see the crippled on the street and pay a deaf ear, to be guiltless about how destitute they seem; it makes us feel powerful, to know that if we never remember the pain we once went through, we'd be okay. We hope we will someday.

But that's not the point I'm ever going to try to make. I'm here to tell you that what happened to me, wasn't an option neither an accident. I'm certain things turned out the way they did because nothing would have given me a way out until I reached that point of utter desperation.

What if they can hear my thoughts?

What if they know exactly how much of a monster I really am?

Once I'd entertained that thought in my head, it fed on my psyche like a virus. I let it get a hold of me and very soon I wasn't acting like myself anymore. I didn't know what to do except paint a picture, a picture that made it seem like I knew what I was doing. Like I knew what I was talking about and had me acting like I knew what I was messing with.

Commence a feeling of awe and daring carefree. Something in me had cracked like a glass rod and my sense of self-preservation hadn’t left. It was more toward being swept under the carpet or shoved in the back of a car.

I was playing spectator now because someone else was at the wheel.

And God did it scare me. It made me a complete fanatic. Buzzing my hair and preaching about shit I had no clue about?! I was way in over my head, acting like a prophet no less, and even after I'd gotten over it, it never really left. I needed the world to know that I was losing it, and that it made me special, and that it drove me to believe things. Things that were driven by my convictions and not my real feelings. I drove my family and friends away, made them afraid of who I’d become, and now, I couldn’t be more sorry for acting so numb.

I really needed a change, I didn’t want this to be a one-off thing. I couldn’t believe anyone. When they told me that they were thinking up a solution that was the best for me, I saw it as a ruse. In my head, they were just pretending to care because they were scared that I’d keep acting crazy and wouldn’t let up until my head had cleared.

But there was some good out of it, I guess. I’m not really sure. I can never really tell with all the castles in the air. But I’m glad this shit has blown over, and I’m better now. I hope I never go back to that holier-than-thou shit. I had a few demons that I’ve fought with. Those monsters are in the past now, they’ll turn up more often than not. But that won’t keep me in a whirl, I won’t let them. The future’s in my hands, the past is how I’ll forget them.

Then and only then will I realize,

That the real monsters never existed under my bed, they never did.

The real monsters exist right inside my feeble mind.

Black and white, followed by a question at the end of the reel.

But they never stop.

Days bleed into each other and the one thing you’re left with is the only place you started from.

To draw a line between determination and desperation.

To be able to feel like you needed something else from the mind-numbing regret that just enveloped you and continues to coalesce your being.

Make it stop.

Please, just make it stop.

[notyour-mariaclara]

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥

ᵃᵏᵃᵃˢʰⁱ ᵏᵉⁱʲⁱ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵍᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᵈʳᵃᵐᵃ, ˢˡⁱᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 2635

ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐʸ 1ˢᵗ ᶠⁱᶜ (ᵇᵒᵏᵘᵗᵒ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ). ʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ. ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ.

I woke up one morning without you by my side. Nothing new, really. Not until I sat up from the bed. I sniff once then twice, the familiar scent of bacon and pancakes is not present.

Maybe she went to work early. I thought to myself and prepared myself to go to work too. Pushing the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach.

After fixing my tie, I grabbed my phone by the nightstand. No new message. It's not that we leave messages anymore if one of us leaves earlier. Not anymore. I sigh and headed to the dining to eat my breakfast. But the emptiness of the table welcomed me. That's when my gut feeling got stronger. Something is not right.

I hit the realization that you never went home last night. The house was empty when I got home, thinking that you just have to work overtime again. Which oftently happens lately but you always send me a message about it. I don't wait up for you 'till you get home because I always fall asleep.

My eyebrows met as I speed dial your number. It rang for few seconds then followed by a beeped.

"Hi! I might be busy as of this moment. Just leave me a message, I'll get back to you soon!" You giggled before the call dropped.

I stare at my phone, wondering when was the last time I heard you being cheerful.

<!-- more -->

"I'm home." I said as I removed my shoes and change into my house slippers. You welcomed me with your pout and arms crossed.

"What's wrong, love?" I chuckled because of your cuteness. 4 years of being together and I can't still get over you.

"It's Saturday and you left without me."

"It's too early for you to get up and I did text you, I need to drop by the office for the new storyboard." I pulled you closer as my arms snaked around your waist.

"But what took you so long?" Finally giving in and you put your arms on my shoulder.

"Because of this." I took a step back to show my bag.

"Yes, hun? That's still the same bag." You said in confusion.

I chuckled and tugged you towards the sofa to make ourselves comfortable. I pulled out 2 boxes from my bag and you gasped.

"Wh-what? But why? You don't have too." You said with a pout.

"Love, your phone will barely make it 'till next month. Your screen is smashed from last month's incident." I stated.

"Yeah, thanks to Bokuto-san." You rolled your eye but laughed.

"One for you and one for me." I said and you squealed.

"Thank you, thank you!" You threw your arms around me and showered me with kisses.

"Anything for you, love." I said and kissed your lips.

We both excitedly opened our new phones. That's how we spent the rest of our Saturday afternoon.

"Hello. I'm busy and I'm not sure if I can get back to you unless you're my husband."

I looked at you and you just flashed me your gummy smile.

"What was that?" I asked.

"It's for my voicemail." You said innocently.

I facepalm myself and shook my head at your antics.

"What will your officemate think if they hear that?"

"What? It's cute." You laughed. I scoff before laughing too.

"No, change it."

I whined and you refuse until I attacked you with tickles just so you change it.

"Stop! Stop! Okay! Okay! I will!" You surrendered.

I put my arms around you just to secure you that you won't run to hide because I know you well enough. You giggled at my action and started recording again.

"Hi! I might be busy as of this moment. Just leave me a message, I'll get back to you soon!"

You giggle and ended the record.

You looked up to face me and smile. I held you tighter as I snuggled my face in your neck. And traces some butterfly kisses.

"Now, it's time for you to pay back the phone."

"Ohhhhh, sir, I am more than willing to pay."

You said and we both fell into laughters.

It's been a year since you did that record. I sent you a message but I received none until I reached the office. Still no you. I can't help but to worry and be distracted the whole day. I'm already thinking of things, why you didn't come home and contacted me. Maybe, you slept over to some friends and your phone ran out of battery or maybe you suddenly went home to your family or maybe all of the hundred reason I thought of, doesn't make sense because you weren't careless like that and you don't want other people worrying about you.

That's when I started thinking of the worst that maybe you caught up in an accident. It was lunch time when I decided to go to your office.

______

"Good Afternoon, I just want to ask if she's in?"

I ask the receptionist. She's also your friend so she's pretty much familiar with me too.

"Eh? She's on leave for 4 days. It started yesterday. Didn't she tell you?" The lady behind the desk asked confusedly.

"I…" I was lost for words.

"Is everything okay between you two? She seems so distant lately and she's even the first one to go home every time." She explained

I can't mask my upset feeling bubbling in my chest.

"But she always works overtime." I stated.

"Overtime? Our company no longer extends our working hours due to our financial setbacks for months already. Surely, you know that we're considering to file bankruptcy, right?"

I was surprised because I don't know a thing about the bankruptcy let alone her lying to me about her overtime.

"Is boss there?" I heard some random staff ask the receptionist.

"Thanks." I said to her and walk my way to the exit but stopped when I heard her replied to the staff.

"Nah, boss is on leave too. As if the company ain't crumbling already." She scoffed.

My hand shakes and exited the premise. I sent a text to the office saying I have an emergency before trying to contact you for the nth time. My emotion is slowly rubbing in me, I lossen my tie. To no avail, I can't still contact you. Frustration slowly creeps in me. I drove home, my thoughts driving me crazy.

You said you're going to work yesterday but the thing is you filed for a leave since yesterday. You lied.

"She lied." I threw my briefcase without a care and crashed myself on the couch.

You've been working late recently, I can't even remember when it started but you lied. You're lying for some time now. Slowly, anger is penting up inside me. Inno Kei, your boss. He use to hit on you, is it only a coincidence he's on leave too?

I untangled the tie and whipped it on the floor. Unbuttoning my dress shirt because suddenly, I feel suffocated. I raked my hair, shaking my brain to reason out your action. I don't even want to think the worst. Because you're not like that but why does everything's falling into pieces. The possibility of you cheating on me, is no longer impossible.

The day went by, by me contacting your phone, I even called your family just to check but they don't know a thing. I even lied to them because I don't want them to worry. I called your best friend Kiyoko but she's not answering my call. I resorted into alcohol while waiting but still no traces of you.

The next day, I didn't go to work in case you come home. I tried to look to for you. Places where you like to go. Places I hope where you'd be. But still no you.

I don't want to think that you'd go to another man but I realize, these past few months after that incident. Everything changed, the cold shoulder, the emotionless responses, just everything. My chest starts to heave as I slowly see things clearer. Even if you do go for another man, I wouldn't blame you. There, I realize what truly is happening lately, how come I didn't see this sooner.

"Oh, God." I buried my face in my hands. Brimming tears of frustration, worry and sadness, consumed me. I don't want to lose you. It's all my fault. The day goes by, waiting for you to come home as I drown myself in alcohol and regret.

_________________________

3 days since you've been gone. I plan to stay home to wait again but my team called because the pitching for the new book is today, as much as I want to be alone and wait for you, I can't risk other people's job. So, I went to work, still thinking of you.

"Hey, Love. Please come home. Let's talk, please or just tell me you're fine. That'll be enough for me. I love you. I love you, please." I sent my 18th voicemail to her number. 115 missed call and 84 unseen messages, still not enough for you to come home.

_______

When I saw your shoes by the door, I don't know what to feel. Ecstatic? Anxious? I don't know. I quickened my phase inside our house. No signs of you in the living room and even in the kitchen. I went to our bedroom. My heart increased it's beat, nervousness is eating me the moment I saw the room empty but the closet was left ajar. I open it only to see most of your are clothes gone. My hand began to shake.

"Love?"

I went to the next room. My hand slowly reached for the knob. When was the last time I went inside this room? 3 months ago? I took a deep breath and open the door.

There I see you on the floor. Your body leaning on the crib. I felt my chest tighten and I took a step forward but you woke up. Fluttering your eyes open and snapped your head towards me. Your eyes widened in surprise. Your lips quiver.

"Keiji…" you call me breathlessly.

Why do you sound as if you're leaving me? I glance at your bag beside you. You followed my gaze and I heard you took a deep breath.

"Where were you?" I asked worriedly and took another step forward. You stood up.

"I…" You look on the floor looking for answers.

"I can't get a hold of you for 3 days. I was worried, Love." I enveloped you in my arms. Nourishing your scent that I miss for days, scent that I took advantage for months.

I hugged you tighter, feeling your warmth. Caressing your hair, letting you know how glad I am that you're back. You started to sob in my arms. After awhile you break off the hug and I swear I heard my heart break.

"Keiji," No, call me love.

"I waited for you for 3 days, where did you go? I got worried. I even went to places to look for you." I said pushing the stinging pain in my eyes.

"I was at Kiyoko-san's--"

"But I went to her apartment. She said you weren't there." I grab hold of her hand

"I told her to lie."

"I-Is there something you want to tell me? How come you didn't tell me that you're having problems with the company? When did you start keeping things from me?" I can no longer hide my frustration and pain.

She shrugged off my hand and took a step backward.

"I-how? How can I? I cannot even talk to you about our own problem. So tell me how, Keiji?" You said exasperatingly. Trying to conceal your emotions but everything can be seen in your eyes with welled up tears.

"Is that why?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I-Is that why you went to ano--"

"Oh my god!" She scoff and laughed bitterly while tears stream down her face.

She lost it. She went back further in the room. Putting good distance between us.

"You actually thought I was with someone else!? Tell me!?" She challenged. My breath hollowed as I brushed my hair due to frustration. My other hand on my hip.

"What do you want me to do!? I came to your office and found out everything. That you're lying about your overtime and you filed for a leave when you didn't said a thing to me. You grown distant and cold the passed months--"

"Did you just realize that in the past 3 days that I was gone? You just suddenly notice, just now!?" I shut my mouth because she's right. I only took notice of everything, too late. She started to cry harder. I took a step closer to reach for her but she moved back. She's hurting so much.

"What I want you to do? I just want you to see me again. To talk to me again like we used too. I want you to look at me without hurting. Without pain."

I tried to call your name but you only shook your head.

"You waited for three days? I waited for six months! Ever since…" you choked on your tears.

"Ever since I lost the baby, I lost you too." She look at me in the eyes. I can no longer control my tears .

"The first three months was bearable, because I know we're both mourning but it seems that we never got the chance to go back to each other. We got lost. I lost my husband." You sobbed.

"I was scared. It was my fault that I can't provide for the both of you. That you needed to work too because my salary is not enough. I-I should have insisted you not to work but I didn't. Then we lost our baby. I saw you broke. It hurted me so much because there's nothing I can do to take the pain. I fought strong in front of you but by the end of the day, I'm so weak. That's why I pretended as if nothing happened because I don't want to make the same mistake. I worked hard for the promotion because I know that will help us a lot. That promotion, is enough for us. Even if you stop working. I-I... didn't know this was the consequence." I explained with tears and shaky breath. Feelings from losing our baby came back again. But this time it hits harder because I might lose you too.

"You are by my side but I still miss you everyday. You slowly fell out. I waited for you everyday, waiting for you to look at me with love again. Until one day, I realize that I can't continue like this anymore. It hurts me to see you but I can't even feel you. I can only take so much pain, love. That's why I stayed late outside drinking or I'll crash at Kiyoko-san's. I was hoping you'll come through and ask me but you never did. I don't know what to do anymore with our marriage." You broke down and fell on your knees.

"I have my fair share of regret, love. We both struggled. There was never a day passed without thinking of our angel. I thought losing you was my consequence because I failed to protect our baby." I rushed by your side and nestled you in my arms. We're both on the floor. I held you tighter than ever.

"No, don't say that. I don't want to lose you. I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, okay? I'm sorry, if I hurt you." I buried my face to your hair, until you tangled your arms to my waist and cried harder. I shifted our position and cradled you in my arms.

"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't mean to push you away. I neglected you all these time when you needed me the most. I'm so sorry. Please, don't leave me. I beg you." I cried as I held your head to my chest.

You shook your head and look up to me.

"I won't. I-I can't. I love you too much."

"I love you too." I said as I wipe your tears away. I held your face as I brushed your hair away from your face and tried to dry your face but you kept crying. I place a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you so much." Then kissed your lips and you hiccuped because of crying to much.

"Let's try again. Let's fix our marriage, hmm? Let me make it up to you."

You nodded and I carried you to our bed to tucked you in bed and hold you all night.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Trials of Emi

Pairing: A little Minho. A sprinkle of Frypan. Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, her twin brother Thomas, and a small group of gladers had been rescued and taken to a safe haven. Or so it seemed. It doesn't take long for Thomas to realize something is wrong. What happens next is a true trial for all of them but Emi's trials began the moment she was ripped away from a dying Gally. Watching someone you love die right before your eyes truly takes a toll.

Finally meeting the right arm could have been the end but betrayal leads to even more chaos and loss. A new mission to rescue those taken from them leads them to a city. The last city. After Emi finally comes to terms with everything that's happened something unfolds that changes everything again. She will have to not only deal with helping her brother take down WCKD and save their friend but also deal with all the new problems in her head and her heart.

Rating: As of right now it’s at most PG13. Some strong language that’s about it but it could change.

(This is the 2nd part/book to my other story "The Maze trials: A Gally Fanfiction". This will cover the events of the scorch trails and the death cure.)

Chapter Twelve

Six months. It took six long months for us to finally reach the place Vince had told us about. We immediately made the place our base. Vince and some others made the decision to see if they could get one of the old docked ships fixed up enough to use. We needed a way to the safe haven after all. If we had a ship we could get far away from WCKD but we had other things to get done first.

I was currently sitting next to Fry watching Jorge and Brenda argue over what was needed to fix one of the jeeps. Over the past six months, I had spent most of my free time with Fry. He’d been there for me on all my bad days and nights. He comforted me and made me laugh. I could feel the two of us growing closer but I was careful to keep the line drawn. As much as I adored Fry I couldn’t give him more than my friendship. Not yet anyway. He knew that and was incredibly good-hearted about it. He had his arm over the back of my chair as I leaned against him.

"We got it!" Thomas and Newt both shouted as they ran out of one of the old buildings.

I jumped at their sudden outburst. The two boys sat down in front of us looking excited and out of breath.

"We found them!" Thomas said excitedly.

The four of us shared a surprised look as we starred at Thomas. We'd completely lost WCKD for months. The trail was completely cold and now they suddenly knew where to find them?

"What did you find?" Jorge asked.

"We got a transmission. There's a train coming threw about an hour or two from here. It's hauling a bunch of the immunes to a new location." Newt said quickly.

"How do we find this train?" I asked them.

"We passed the track on our way here." Thomas smiled.

"So what's the plan?" Brenda asked.

"We'll need a few more hands. I'm thinking Harriet and Vince. Maybe a few more." Thomas said.

"I'll get Harriet," I told him.

He nodded.

"I'll get Vince. Fry and Newt see if you can get us a few more hands." Thomas ordered.

We each nodded then hopped up to do as he said. I found Harriet in one of the buildings going threw supplies.

"Hey H," I said to get her attention.

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Emi, what can I do for you?" She asked setting down the supplies in her hand.

"We found them," I told her simply.

Her smile grew even wider as she laughed.

"Where?" She asked quickly.

"On a train that's gonna pass close by," I informed her.

"What do you need?" She asked walking around the table she was standing at.

"Thomas has a plan but he said he needed a few extra hands. Thought we'd see if you were interested." I explained.

"Hell yea! Let's do it!" She cheered.

Harriet followed me out of the building then back up to where Jorge and Brenda were working on some of the trucks. Fry and Newt were there with about four others. Thomas hadn't made it back with Vince yet.

"Who are they?" I asked pointing at the newcomers.

"I'm Alex," one boy said with a charming smile as he extended his hand to me.

"I'm Emi," I told him as I shook his hand.

"You're Thomas' sister right?" He asked.

I nodded.

"It's amazing none of us realized it immediately. You two look like the same bloody person." Newt chuckled.

“That’s Ashley, Drake, and Eric,” Fry said pointing to the other three.

"Good you're all here," Thomas said from behind me.

I turned to see him and Vince with two other boys. They joined the group.

"Here's the plan. Jorge and Brenda will take one jeep. Vince and I will take another. Brenda and Jorge will be our distraction as Vince and I get on the train. Newt, you and Emi will be close by with torches to get the compartment loose. These two, Daniel and Greg, will be with Newt and Emi for added protection. Harriet, Fry, and the rest of you will be our hidden backup to jack the aircraft they will most likely send in for help. Brenda, you and Jorge will need to lead that aircraft to them. Once you take it you need to come back to the train to get the compartment and us." Thomas explained.

"When is this going down?" I asked him.

"In two days around midday. We will discuss more details once we have all the equipment we need." Thomas said.

We all nodded then went our separate ways to gather what was needed. Over the next day, we went over every small detail of the plan. It seemed we had every possible outcome thought up and dealt with. When the day finally arrived Brenda and Jorge took Fry, Alex, Ashley, Drake, Eric, and Harriet to where they needed to be while Thomas and Vince dropped me, Newt, Daniel, and Greg off to hide close to the tracks.

"Be careful out there," I told both Vince and Thomas as they climbed back in their jeep.

As they drove off Newt and I took cover behind a larger boulder. Daniel and Greg each hid behind their own boulder. Thomas would signal us when he needed us.

"How are things going with you two?" I asked Newt as we sat in the dirt.

He chuckled.

"Pretty great actually." He smiled.

"I'm glad things worked out for you two," I told him happily.

"Thanks Em" he chuckled.

"Are things getting better for you?" He asked.

I thought about it for a second. Things did seem better. I was sleeping threw the night and didn't feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I felt like I'd finally made my peace.

"Yea, I'm good. It's been rough dealing with losing him but I've finally come to grips with it. I have enough memories of him to keep me going." I smiled at him.

"Maybe one of these days you can completely move on and give all that love you have to someone else. Maybe Fry.” Newt said softly.

I chuckled at that.

"I doubt it. I may have come to terms with Gally's death but I don't think any other guy, even Fry, will ever be able to make me feel like he did. If I happened to meet a guy who did then maybe but I don't think that will happen." I shrugged.

“What is going on with you and Fry then?” Newt asked.

“We are friends,” I said simply.

“Looks like a bit more than friends to me and Tommy.” Next chuckled softly.

“No, just friends. He’s been there for me while everyone else has been so busy. He did confess to me that he’d like to be more than a friend to me one day but he knows that’s a while down the road.” I explained.

“So he is your friend for now until you’re ready to completely move on?” Next asked with a smirk.

“Yea, sure” I chuckled softly.

A train whistled in the distance instantly gaining mine and Newt's attention. We righted ourselves to wait for the action to begin. We could hear the train getting closer and closer. It was traveling pretty fast from the sound of it. I barely peeked around the boulder to see the engine not far from us.

"Brenda and Jorge should already be close to it," I said aloud.

It didn't take long for the engine to reach us. I couldn't see the end of the train but I knew that was where Thomas and Vince were.

"They're on top," Newt said.

I could see two shadows running across the top of the train.

"They have company," Newt said worriedly.

On the opposite side of the train, coming from the engine, was four or five people running towards Thomas and Vince.

"What do we do?" I asked him trying not to panic.

"Nothing, we wait for Tommy's signal," Newt said slowly.

I watched as Thomas and Vince's figures dropped between the compartments. I could hear shots being fired in the distance then a loud explosion. The back half of the train came to a screeching halt. We stayed hidden until Thomas called for us.

A loud whistle rang out. Newt popped up to check it out.

"Newt!" Vince shouted.

"Let's go! Move!" Newt said gesturing for me and the other two boys to follow him.

We ran over to the train as fast as we could. I could hear Thomas on the other side shouting for Minho. The kids inside the compartment we're shouting back. Newt went to the side Thomas was on while I dropped down on the other side.

I pulled my goggles on over my eyes as I pulled out my torch. I got to work as quickly as I could to cut through the thick metal. Thomas and Vince climbed on top of the compartment to start hooking the ropes together. Daniel and Greg were standing on the ground trying to hold off the WCKD guards.

"Newt, how you doing?" Thomas asked loudly.

"Don't rush me!" I heard Newt shout.

"Emi" Thomas said coming to my side of the train.

"Working on it!" I shouted up to him.

Shots rang out in our directions making me jump. I kept my eyes on the torch but I could hear the bullets hitting the metal all around me.

"Newt! Emi! Get up here!" Thomas shouted.

Daniel and Greg were already climbing on top of the compartment.

"Almost done!" Newt shouted back at him.

"Newt! Go!" I heard Vince shout from the other side of the train.

"Emi get your ass up here now!" Thomas shouted down at me.

I finished cutting threw the metal then shoved the torch back in my bag. I slung my bag over my shoulder as I started to climb up the ladder. The boys were lying down and I was quick to join them as a bullet zipped right past me.

"Where the hell are they?" Newt questioned loudly.

"I don't know!" Thomas shouted back as he tried to shoot down some of our attackers.

The sound of a large aircraft had me and Newt rolling onto our backs as Thomas, Daniel, and Greg kept shooting. The aircraft hovered right above us then the bay door opened. I could see Brenda and Fry smiling down at us as they released the large hook. Thomas, Newt, and I jumped to our feet to grab it.

"Come on!" Thomas shouted as he tried to jump for the hook.

"Lower!" Newt shouted.

Thomas grabbed the hook. He and Newt tried to pull it down faster. When we could we quickly hooked all the ropes onto it.

"Go! Go!" Thomas shouted up to our friends inside the craft.

Slowly the ropes started to lift.

"Vince! Get up here!" Newt shouted.

The compartment started to lift off its frame.

"Now Vince!" Thomas shouted.

Vince jumped grabbing the bottom of the ladder. He climbed up quickly as we rose higher into the air.

"Yea!" Thomas shouted excitedly.

We did it. We actually did it. We just stole a whole damn train compartment full of immunes from WCKD. Damn this felt good.

—

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

[shiningmystic]

helloo!!! I sent an ask some time ago and you answered like a month ago! I've not been very active on here lately, I apologize for the delay! Your reading was so accurate! I was in fact not feeling really well and very lost at the moment I sent the ask and around the time you answered! As you said I do overthink things and situations a lot and doubt myself, my abilities. also It's interesting that you mentioned my creativity bc that's something I struggle with a lot, I have never really considered myself a creative person for that same reason, but I guess that blockage or feeling of lack has a lot do with those same self-confidence issues and my fears.

you are really spot on about that parental figure, and about feeling lost in that freedom. Adulthood has been kind of a struggle for me, the whole~~ living life~~and figuring things out lol I always had strong desires and impulses, but a lot stuff happened growing up and at that - teenage to adult- period specifically that dimmed my desires, that 'spark', so it wasn't the smoothest transition for me and thus instead of becoming more independent I became more fearful, indecisive, and started holding myself back and retreating, making me feel even more lost and kind of trapping me in a loop of fear and anxiety that I've been trying to work on.

I'm definitely still figuring out how to do things, life is still scary for me (idk perhaps it will always feel that way)lol, and I still feel hesitant, but recently I have gathered more courage and been taking some small steps forward, reconnecting with people, giving myself the opportunity to do things, figuring myself out and learning to feel more comfortable in that freedom. It's definitely too soon to say things, and my own mindset, have changed completely, but hopefully I can continue feeling more postive and keep improving. I really appreciate your words, your advise, and giving me encouragement, it means a lot to me and I will have it very present! thank you so much for answering my question! wish you all the best! ☀️☀️

I honestly am struggling with the same freedom which is why I probably received the message pretty clearly 😂. Some people are so used to the “cage” of there old life; now that they are free to do what they want it’s hard to decide when there are so many avenues. I struggled through my teenage years as well and had a hard time finding stability outside and inside of myself.

Creativity is usually stamped out of us as we grow up, especially if it wasn’t cultivated in a natural manner. Creativity isn’t just related to art but invention and innovation. Creation. It encompasses many things so you may just be creative in a different way! The “spark” isn’t something to go off of because when the spark isn’t lit anymore we assume what we are doing isn’t worth it when we didn’t give it a full chance. Love doesn’t suddenly disappear when the honey moon phase is over. At that point it’s a decision of if you want to keep going or not and if it still gives you some joy even with the lows. We create our own happiness, it isn’t something to search and struggle to reach. Like how you can create your own love towards yourself. I believe you are going through your own small awakening and that’s awesome!

Experimentation and trying things out has helped me find what interests me even though my spark isn’t always there I still know that I love what I do even though I do have really heavy days where I can’t do it 😂. It is the fear that always holds people back. Fear is always a root of why people decide not to do something or to avoid and doubt but maybe that fear is trying to beacon you to something greater. Pain in life is always a teacher and has lead us into strange places and circumstances. Maybe the pain was put into our lives to lead us to discover ourselves in a world that finds no value in us connecting to who we are and what we want to grow into.

I’m glad this resonated and I hope you find the path that you most desire ❤️ maybe even doing little things to build trust within yourself.

Life is never a straight line so detours and back ways will always be discovered and opportunities will come when you begin to expand. We don’t always have to be working on ourselves it’s just discovering ways you can work together with yourself. Don’t be afraid to ask for another reading when my asks are open again!

May luck be in your side friend 🍀

[peterknowsshit]

Road trip (Leg 2, Part 1) Engagement at the Beach

Peter:

-With Arizona and all the glittery fun behind us, we found ourselves in California. I had been dying to get my Pretty Bird to a beach, and now I finally was going to have the chance. Sure, Texas had some. But nothing beats the California ones. There was one in particular that I had in mind to show her. I had only been there once before. But the second we decided to add this part of California to this leg of our trip, I knew that was the one I wanted to show her. It would require a little bit of a hike. But I knew she was good for it. And the payoff was so worth it. We would have privacy and a view. Both pluses in my book. Pulling the bus into one of the parking spots for the main beach, I killed the engine, and just gazed out the windshield at the rolling waves in the distance for a few seconds before turning my attention to @MyJokersWild- You ready, baby?

Tori:

Am I ready? [Smiling ear to ear when you pulled in to park, I gazed out that same windshield for a moment before turning my full attention to you. This trip had so many legs to it that each pitstop we came to was just another item marked off the bucket list. So far, we had stopped in Arizona, Nevada, and New Mexico, was not that long ago from our sights. Each one more amazing than the last and this time, your destination of choice did not disappoint either. The views in sunny California were already stunning.] Of course I am! [Giving a soft nod of my head, my smile permanent, I reached for your door handle to let myself out, climbing right over into your lap to give you a kiss before doing just that.] You've been so secretive about this place, Peter Pan. Show me what it's all about.

Peter:

-my brows popping when you opt to climb over my lap to get out instead of using your door. Instinctively moving my hands to your hips and giving a playful squeeze when you kiss me, and letting out a disapproving sound when you climb out of my lap- We are revisiting that later. -offers you a smirk and a wink before climbing out of the bus myself, and shutting the door shut- I’m glad you chose those shoes. -drops my eyes to the shoes you had put on today- Instead of flip flops. -waves my hand in the direction of the wide expanse of beach in front of us- This is nice. But it’s got nothing on where I want to go. Getting there wouldn’t have been fun in flip flops though. -moves around to the back of the bus while you’re getting Rilla out. Reaching for my black backpack and stuffing some special muffins I had stopped to pick up earlier in. Along with some Kool Aid pouches, and a few other necessities. Then leaning to make sure you’re adequately distracted before checking one last thing in the side pouch and grinning to myself before zipping it up and swinging the backpack on to my back- It’s not far. -slams the hatch closed and comes around the side to meet you and Rilla- Just rocky.

Tori:

Of course, we would be revisiting that, mine. I did it on purpose. [Alright, enough with the torture.. Laughing this time, I watched as you gave me that look and went to the back to get ready, knowing we would be needing some supplies as I bent down to tie my sneaks with a double knot. Poor Rilla was already giving me the what for as I made my way over to the side door finally and I let him out too.] I'm sorry, boy. Lets get you ready. [The beach did look fantastic but I was growing more curious by the second of this secluded paradise you had been describing to me and I clip Rilla's leash on him, slamming the door shut before I meet you on the other side of the bus.] Rocky, I can do. I think a bit of a hike could be fun. You ready to lead the way?

Peter:

-places a hand at the small of your back and pulls you closer for a lingering kiss. Only stopping with a chuckle when Rilla starts to bark his disapproval at all this standing around- See those rocks built up over there. -points off to the west where there seems to be a natural end to the beach- That’s where we’re headed. -pulls my sunglasses from the top of my head and pops them in place with a grin before taking your free hand and guiding you across the sand-

Tori:

Okay, Rilla, we're going, boy! [Letting you take the lead after that lingering kiss, I can't help but give your hand a squeeze as we make our way down the beach. Rilla's own excitement bubbling over as he tugs on the leash to pull us faster. Having been cooped up for too long in the bus for his liking, I couldn't fault the young at heart old man for wanting to stretch his legs too. While there was no rush for either of us, no itinerary to keep up to, we were pretty much on our own for a Tuesday afternoon once we had broken away from the small group of people that had along the way had laid claim to their own spots on the beach. Our eager feet carrying us swiftly to the starting point of our hike.] How far up are these rocks, mine?

Peter:

Not high at all. -glances over my shoulder at the smattering of humans spread out on the beach in various places- They are just too lazy to figure that out. -brings my attention back to yours with a wink- Lucky for us. -takes the leash from you now- I’ll take Rilla though. I don’t want him to knock you off balance. And there’s going to be at least one place I’m gonna have to lug his ass. -allows you to start out ahead, smirking to myself at how the view I was getting was an added bonus then follows you up the sides of the rocks-

Tori:

[I had a feeling the suggestion of taking Rilla was heavily laced with more than the good manners you were undoubtedly raised with as a human. A tall, warm blooded male human at that.. So.. Of course, that didn't bother me in the slightest and I made sure to give you the best show of your life with my hips and ass playing the leading role in the slight peeks you were given. Climbing up over one rock, the boulders starting to cluster closer the further I went before it started to taper off. Waiting for you to catch up to me, I took a glance over my shoulder to see how far back you were and if you needed help with Rilla when I saw you were almost right on top of me with our boy in your arms.] You want me to take him?

Peter:

-looks down at his grinning spoiled ass in my arms and laughs- I got him. But what I do want you to do is check this out. -guides you a few more feet to the right and over one last rock before the view opens up- It’s all downhill from here. -sets Rilla down, stumbling a little when he attempts to take off down the path toward the beach, and ultimately just lets his leash go so he can run off ahead of us to our own private cove-

Tori:

[Just a few more feet and one more rock before the view took my breath away for I don't know how long. Reaching the clearing, I just stood there, soaking it all in before your voice and Rilla's broke through, catching my attention too.] You've been here before? [I couldn't help it. I literally gasped at every new sight I took in as we made our descent back down.] This is gorgeous.. Baby... [Gazes over to you finally and squeezes your hand, letting you pull me when I see that grin of yours widen further and I whistle for Rilla to hold up. Not wanting him to wander too far away from us when we finally reach the sand.]

Peter:

-I had to stop myself from pulling a Rilla and yanking you now as my excitement grew with each new gasp you let out- Only once before. I’ve been dying to show you this since we first started making plans for this trip. -chuckles, coming to a stop when we finally reach the sand- I doubt anyone will be joining us either. -releases your hand to pull my backpack off, dropping it on the ground so that I can squat down and pull out a couple of beach towels, and holding one out to you- I have Kool Aid and some special muffins. -catches your eye with a smirk to make sure you caught the meaning behind that- Or we can chill here...swim. Whatever my Pretty Bird wants.

Tori:

Whatever I want? [Ponders this for all of two seconds before giving you a wink.] What if I want both? [A kid at Christmas had absolutely nothing on you in the excitement department. It practically radiated off of you like a 1970's San Francisco heat wave once we reached the landing you had chosen and we pulled up some sand. Quickly rolling my towel out, I give it a quick "pop" before laying it down. My eyes never leaving yours once I do.] I'm down for whatever you had planned for us. I know one thing, I'm taking off these shoes. [Rilla was already snooping around your backpack with you, wanting his own beverage of choice while I worked at the knots I had made on my sneaks.] You really think it will just be us out here? [The wheels were already turning when shoe number one went, then number two.] No tan lines..

Peter:

-the mention of no tan lines had my brain misfiring as I froze in place, my eyes the only thing moving as they quickly flicked over to you to make sure I wasn’t missing anything important- I am confident that we will have no visitors. -looks over my shoulder at the rocks we just crossed over then back at you, bringing my hand up so I can tap my temple, signaling my gift- As a matter of fact, I know it. -falls back on my ass now when Rilla nudges me, and laughs- Listen, man. When a woman says something like that, you have to give her your full attention. -digs through the backpack for the collapsible dog bowl and a bottle of water, setting the dude up so he’ll get off my case-

Tori:

[Part of me knew it really didn't matter. If the likes of anyone were to round the bend, and cross over those rocks, I knew you would probably be up topside to greet them before they could fully acknowledge my naked ass. Even so, I laughed as I watched you with Rilla, taking the opportunity to tug on the back tie of my top and dropping it to the ground first, my bottoms went next before I got comfortable on my towel beside you, and stretched out, basking in the sun and your stare for a moment.] You hungry for a muffin yet, mine?

Peter:

-thank fuck I already had my ass planted in the sand. Because the sight of all that sun kissed skin never ceased to rendered me temporarily stupid as I allowed my eyes to trail over every last inch. The smirk on your face as you kept your eyes closed, enjoying the heat, let me know that you were well aware of my gawking, and I let out a low chuckle- I’m hungry for something all right. -refocusing on the backpack, I plucked out the two muffins I had picked up earlier before scooting my way closer to you, careful not to kick up a bunch of sand as I did- They’re blueberry. -grins proudly at that fact as I hold one out to you-

Tori:

Blueberry! Really? This is the most perfect date, mine. [Between the view, you and the blueberry goodness I now held in my hand, I knew my night was about to be made. You knew they were my favorite and as I propped up on one elbow, turning toward you when you handed me my mine, I leaned in further to press a tender kiss to your lips when you met me half way, naturally so.] I don't think this could get any better. Beside well, obviously, the muffin. Your kisses. You. [Laughing softly, I only pulled back long enough to slide the blueberry muffin up between us, giving us each a big ole bite. Humming softly as I began to chew with you.]

Peter:

-watches you with a playful glint in my eye as you speak- You sure? There’s nothing else that could make this day even better? -takes the offered bite, and takes my time chewing as I wait for your answer-

Tori:

Is @Snoopdogg going to pop out and smoke a blunt with us later? [Quickly, taking another bite to hold back my laugh, my smile was infectious once again when that memory comes to mind. I was only somewhat kidding but seeing you give me that look again, I was two stops short of pretty bird wasted as we liked to call it. Holding your gaze, I swallowed those last few bites I had and moved to lay back on my elbows again, watching you for a moment longer as I really gave the question some thought.] Are you going to make some fireworks? Paint the sky?

Peter:

Funny you should mention Snoop. -pauses long enough that you glance over my shoulder as if you’re expecting him to start descending the rocks next and chuckles- Unfortunately, he won’t be making it. But, I did get you this. -unzips that side pocket of my backpack meant for laptops and pulls out a box, waiting for you to sit up a little again before holding it out to you-

Tori:

Are you serious right now? Is it really his stuff? I love it! [Sitting up a little straighter when I see you go for a box, I pull it over into my lap for a better look with you when I flip the lid back open, seeing the bong inside. My laugh carried across the waves next as I started to look around you to the bag, then back to you once more.] You want to load it now or wait? You feeling your muffin yet?

Peter:

I’m always down to load it. -smirks- But wait. There’s a little more. I also got you an extra accessory to go with it. -digs a little deeper into that same pocket, pulling out a smaller box and palming it so that you can’t really make out what it is first. Taking your left hand in mine, and clearing my throat- Fuck. -chuckles nervously- You know I suck at words and feelings and shit, yeah? So, don’t hold my lack of suave against me when you answer. -Watches you for a few seconds until you humor me with a nod of your head and starts again- I have tried the love thing a couple times. Failed a couple times too. But this time around, things are so damn different. I mean it when I say, I am convinced you were molded inside and out specifically for me. My pretty bird. -grins wide- There isn’t a single damn thing I would change about you. But there is something I want to change about us. -finally reveals the little brown heart shaped box in my hand and flicks it open with my thumb to reveal the ring inside- Will you complete our little family, and marry me?

Tori:

[If there was ever truly an out of body experience, this was it... I knew something was up but when I saw the new bong I really thought that was it. Maybe some literal sex on the beach a little later and let's be honest, after this, it was for sure happening now BUT as I listened to you pour your heart out, those words you thought sucked so bad, struck so deeply. The arrow you fired met its intended target, me. Of course, it was then that the muffin really hit and only a soft sigh left my lips as I grasped fully what you had asked me at the end. Marry you. That really happened. And now, just now. Sitting up with a start fully, you still had my hand and was holding the box. Waiting for that answer.] Oh, Peter... [Those terms of endearment I gave didn't seem nearly enough. Your words were on repeat in my ears.."There isn’t a single damn thing I would change about you. But there is something I want to change about us." Yes. Yes, a million times, yes. There I was, naked as the day I was born being proposed to and nodding my damn head like my life depended on it. To the outside world, to anyone that truly knew us, it kind of did.] Yes, I will be your pretty bird forever. [I was, heart, body and soul, but watching you slip that ring on my finger, that bong was forgotten about as I moved to climb into your lap, my lips seeking out yours instantly.]

Peter:

-blows out the breath I was holding when you agree on a chuckle before welcoming you into my lap, one of my hands sliding up into the back of your hair to keep your lips against mine for a slow, tender kiss while the other rests at the small of your back, and allowing the kiss to linger a little longer before slowly releasing your lips with a grin- I fucking you love you, baby. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.

Tori:

And I love you. You're still all I see and you make me the happiest pretty bird on the planet. [It was true. From the moment you had come back into my life, you had been this light in what had been a rather dark chapter. Forcing me to want more than I ever wanted for myself with a gentle kindness that you bestowed to me all those moons ago. Bringing my lips to yours again, I got real comfortable then, having no shame when my body fused to yours, my hips rocking as I spoke low. Those swim trunks absolute torture by now I was sure.] What all did you bring in that back pack, mine? [Nipping at your bottom lip, I laughing again too.] I want to stay the night out here.

Peter:

-lets out a low groan when you rock your hips against me then grins up at you, my fingers brushing through your hair now- Luckily, I somehow knew you would want that too. And I figured you wouldn’t mind sleeping under the stars, yeah? -reaches over with one hand, patting the backpack- I’ve got all the necessities for a night out here. Just us and the beach. -winks-

Tori:

You got it. Us and the beach. It couldn't have been more perfect, baby. [If we needed to hike back we could but for now, I wasn't leaving you or this cove. Rilla had settled down, gathering himself a drink before tearing into the back pack for a snack. A laugh escaped my lips again when I catch him and get him to park it before I turn my attention back to you, thinking a dip in the ocean could wait, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of our engagement night in your arms.] #PrettyBirdWasted #PeterPanStoned

[ohfrickfanfic]

Home For The Holidays

Pairing: Virgin Tyler x Reader

You've been working for the Joseph family for a few months as a live-in housekeeper and nanny for their two youngest children, eleven-year-old Jay, and fifteen-year-old Madison. You love your job; it's so easy. The Joseph's are tidy people, so the cleaning doesn't take long at all, and Jay and Madison are the sweetest kids. You just have to help them with their homework after school, give them a snack, and make sure they don't get into any trouble. Plus, the pay it great.

It's Saturday morning, you and the Joseph family are eating a breakfast of pancakes and bacon together at the kitchen table when suddenly the door opens.

"Hey guys," you hear a voice say, looking up to see a gorgeous boy clad in a black, short sleeve button down shirt, black basketball shorts with two white horizontal stripes along the bottom, black leggings underneath, a red beanie hat, and a red backpack with white straps. You can't take your eyes off him.

"Ty!" Madison and Jay screech, running to hug him.

"Tyler, we weren't expecting you home for Christmas break until tomorrow. What a pleasant surprise!" Mrs. Joseph exclaims.

"We're glad to have you home, son," Mr. Joseph adds. "Where's your brother?"

"There was a snow storm headed towards the area near our school, so I decided to leave a day early, but you know Zack, he's stubborn and said he was still leaving tomorrow. Who's this?" Tyler says, eyeing you.

"Oh, this is Y/N. She’s our wonderful, live-in housekeeper and nanny. She just started a few months ago. And Y/N, this is our oldest son, Tyler. He's been away at his second year of college with his younger brother, Zack, who's in his freshman year. Hopefully he makes it before the storm tomorrow and you can meet him too."

Second year of college. Well, at least I know he's legal now.

"Hi," you smile flirtatiously, hoping no one else notices the look of want in your eyes.

"Hey," he smiles back, looking away shyly, cheeks flushed.

"Your dad and I were going to take the kids to the museum after breakfast. You’re welcome to join us," says Mrs. Joseph.

No, please stay

"Thanks, mom, but I'm just gonna relax at home if that's okay. I'm tired from the drive."

Yessss

"That's fine, honey. Come join us for breakfast; you must be starving."

Tyler takes off his red beanie and backpack, hanging them on the coat rack near the door. He then kicks off his shoes and takes the empty seat to your right. You reach to grab the orange juice, your leg brushing against his. You feel his body tense up and you turn to look at him to find his lips pursed tight.

Did I just imagine that?  

You decided to try it again, this time on purpose, obvious and playful. He does it again, shifting in his seat.

The family leaves the table to finish getting ready, leaving you at the table with Tyler to finish eating. You keep feeling him stealing glances at you and decide to have some fun, dragging your finger through the syrup on your plate and bringing it up to your lips, sliding it into your mouth to suck off the syrup. Tyler clears his throat, shifting in his seat again as the sound of footsteps get closer to the kitchen.

"Okay, we're heading out now," Mrs. Joseph says. “Y/N, if you could just clean up breakfast and do sheets today, that would be great. Tyler, be a gentleman and help her out."

Oh, I got something he can help me out with

"So… what do you wanna do now that everyone's gone?" you tease.

"Uhhh, I'm gonna help you with chores and then I was planning on just hanging out and playing video games,” he says, sounding slightly confused as he helps load the dishwasher.

"Oh ok," you say, disappointed he didn't take your bait. "What are you gonna play?"

"Mario Kart 64," he says, closing the dishwasher.

"Mind if I watch?"

"Uhhh, sure," he says, sounding nervous.

Upon entering his room, you see rows of trophies above his bed. You've lived with the Joseph's for a few months, but you never had any reason to go into Tyler's room before, so you've never seen them all.

"Wow, are these all yours?” you ask, crawling on his bed to get a better look.

"Ummm, yeah. I play basketball," he says, swallowing hard, his hands palming at his thighs nervously as he stands near his bed.

"You must be very talented," you say teasingly while looking at Tyler, still on all fours on his bed.

"Yeah, I guess," he says biting his lip, his hands quickly clasping in front of his basketball shorts as he tries to disguise his growing bulge, his eyes still glued to you.

"C'mere," you flirt, kneeling on the edge of his bed now. He stays put. "C'mere Tyler. I don't bite... I mean, unless you’re into that," you tease. He smiles, taking a step forward to stand in front of you.

"I see that way you look at me, ya know. And I see the effect I'm having on you right now," you say, trailing your hand up his inner thigh, palming his bulge through his shorts. He lets out a shaky breath, his head rolling back just slightly as he does, his bulge hardening by the second. "Mmmm, and I can feel the effect I'm having on you too."

"Oh frick," he moans as you pull him down on top of you on his bed. You crash your mouth against his and tease your tongue along his lips until he finally lets you in,  darting his tongue sloppily into your mouth. You grab onto his shirt, pulling for leverage as you roll the two of you over to straddle him. You unbutton his shirt and kiss down his tattooed chest and down his stomach, stopping at his waistband before kissing back up and sliding your hand into his boxers, gripping his length. You can feel his heart rate and his breath quickening beneath your lips.

"Oh frick, oh frick," he breathes out rapidly, gripping the comforter on either side of him, borderline hyperventilating.

"Why are you so nervous? It's not like anyone is gonna catch us, Tyler; we have the house to ourselves. They won't be back for hours. They're at the museum looking at rocks and dinosaur bones, meanwhile I'm touching your rock-hard cock and we're gonna bone." You laugh at your own pun. "You're acting like you've never had a girl in your bed before. Just relax.”

There’s a long pause.

"Because I haven't." Tyler finally speaks up.

"What?" you ask, unsure if he's saying what you think he's saying.

"I haven't — I haven't had a girl in my bed. I'm... I'm… a... a virgin," he admits.

"Fucking Christ, Tyler! Why didn't you say something? I'm sorry!" you exclaim while climbing off him, embarrassed by your own actions of unknowingly seducing this poor virgin.

"No," he says, pulling you back, "I want this."

"Tyler, how old are you?" you ask

"Just turned twenty-one on the first, why?”

"Ok, sorry. Just making sure you weren't some underage genius who got accepted early into college," you laugh. "Sorry, I'm just shocked. You're so gorgeous, I don't know how it's possible."

"No," he laughs, blushing. "It's just that waiting until marriage has always been instilled in me since I was a kid, from Church and from my parents, but lately I've been thinking, like, how long can I really wait? I don't even have a girlfriend, never mind getting married, and, like, what if I never get married? I'm supposed to be a virgin forever? So I'm telling you the truth when I say I want this. I can't wait anymore. As long as you’re okay being with a virgin that is?"

"I'm okay with it as long as you are,” you answer.  So, what have you done with a girl?"

"Well, I kissed a girl once and she put her hand in my pants," he laughs nervously.

"Tyler, wait, are you referring to me, two minutes ago? No way! You had never even kissed a girl before?"

"Nope. But I wanna do it again," he smiles.

You bring your lips to his, straddling him again. "One more question," you say, breaking the kiss. "What's with saying frick?"

"Umm, I've never been allowed to swear and I've always tried my best to obey my parent’s rules, so it's just a habit. I say frick instead of… of… you know."

"Mmmmm, so you like to obey?" you ask suggestively.

"Yes," he smirks, squirming under you.

"Okay, well, since you like to obey so much, there will be no more 'frick'. It's ‘fuck’! Don't censor yourself, got it?" you bark.

"Got it," he responds, biting his lip.

"Good. Let’s have a little practice run," you say, slipping your hand past his waistband and back into his boxers. "So what do you want me to do to you?"

"Uhhh, fr —  fuck, I-I want you to... to… fu... fuck me," he moans.

"Mmmmm, much better, see how much hotter that is? Mmmmm. you listen so well. Tyler," you whine, slowly pumping your hand over his length, still inside his pants. "Hey, let's get these off of you." You slip your fingers under the waistbands of his clothing, pulling down, as he lifts his hips off the bed to help. You pull them all the way down to his ankles, taking them off completely.

"Cute red socks," you smile, crawling back up over his body. You keep your head low, dipping down lower as you approach his length. You run a slow lick from the base to the tip, grasping his length, lifting it from its place tight against his stomach, and continue to lick over the slit where his precum has gathered, tasting him. You slide your mouth over the head, teasing with your tongue under the tip before moving your mouth down, bobbing over his length.

"Fuck," he pants, propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at you.

"You like watching me suck your cock, Tyler?"

" God yessss," he whines.

"MMMmmmm listen to you. Somehow I don't think your mommy and daddy would approve of that use of the word," you tease, licking up his length. "Here, you wanna watch? Gimme your hands; hold my hair back," you say, guiding his hands into your hair. He obliges, leaning back and grasping your hair tighter than you would have expected him to.

"Mmmmm, Tyler!" you exclaim, surprised he's coming out of his shell. You bob over his length only a few times before you feel a warmness suddenly spilling into your mouth.

"Sorry, your mouth just felt so fucking good," he pants.

"It's ok. It was your first time, it's to be expected. Just warn me next time," you smile, wiping the corner of your mouth.  "Besides, now you get to play with me until you’re ready to go again," you smirk, pulling your shirt over your head.

Tyler looks like a deer in headlights. "Don't just stare, Tyler, touch me," you say, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your breast. Tyler scoots closer to you, placing his free hand on your other breast and massaging them through your bra while he kisses you. He then reaches behind you, fumbling with your bra clasp.

"Here, let me help you with that," you breathe between deep kisses, unclasping your bra and slowly sliding it off your shoulders.

Tyler quickly resumes touching you, and your mouths find each other’s again. You fall back down on the bed, Tyler on top of you. He moves his mouth to your neck, trailing wet kisses to your chest. His tongue finds your nipple and he licks and sucks softly as he cups both your breasts.

You place your hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing down to silently suggest he go lower. He obliges, slowly kissing down your body as you squirm under him. He stops at your waistband, looking at you for reassurance.

"Keep going," you whine encouragingly. He slips his fingers under your waistband, tugging your pants and panties down together, pulling them off. He teases the small strip of hair above your slit with his finger. "You like?" you ask, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip.

"Yeah," he breathes. "It looks so good."

"And it tastes even better," you suggest.

"Can I?" he asks

"You better," you smirk. He trails his fingers down in between your wet folds, finding your entrance and sliding them into you, moving them in and out.

"Uhhhh, fuck, that's good. Now try curling them like this," you groan, modeling the motion."

"Like this?" he asks, doing just as you said.

"Fuck... yeah… Tyler… just like that. Don't stop," you moan, fisting the comforter. "Tongue!" you bark, unable to form a full sentence. He obeys, licking teasing circles around your clit, driving you insane, before placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your clit, sucking lightly. "Fuck, Tyler, where does a virgin learn... to… to uhhhh… eat pussy like this?” you moan.

"Uhhh, in his dorm watching porn I guess," he laughs. "Mmmm, you're dripping all over my bed," he says, looking down to where his fingers are still pumping inside of you, licking his lips.

"That means... uhhh... uhhh… fuck! That means you're doing it right," you moan, but you can't take it anymore, you need to feel his dick in you now.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, using your hands to then pull yourself up into a sitting position. You grab Tyler's wrists, pulling his fingers from you and push him down on the bed. You straddle him, bringing his fingers that were inside you to your mouth, tasting yourself.  Tyler's eyes go wide.

"Oh FUCK! That's hot," he whines. You pull his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand trail lightly down your body before pinning his hands to either side of his head. "Ummm, do you have a condom?" he pants.

"No, do you? But I am on birth control," you reply.

"No, I don't either. Ummm, fuck it. I don't even care. Fuck me!" he begs.

Bringing your feet underneath you and grasping his length, you guide him into your entrance, slowly sliding down his length. His mouth opens but no sound comes out as his eyes roll back.

"God damn, Tyler, you're letting all these girls miss out on this dick?” You moan, riding him.

"Mmmm, you like it?" he teases

"Fuck yes!" you exclaim, slamming down on him, your skin clapping together. Tyler lets out a loud moan as his eyes dart to the left. Your eyes follow his gaze to the full-length mirror on the back of his door, catching your reflection.

"Mmmmm, you like watching me fuck you, Tyler?"

"God you have no fucking idea how much," he breathes, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, then pointing it at you.

"Fuck, Tyler, are you recording this? You're fucking filthy! Recording me taking your virginity like this," you tease. "Keep it going, I'm so close! You gotta record me coming for you." Tyler unexpectedly thrusts up deep inside of you. "Oh fuck! Tyler, do that again!" He obeys, causing you to moan his name loudly.

"I'm gonna cum," he whines.

"mmmmmm, good boy, you remembered to tell me," you tease. "Me too."

You feel Tyler's warmth pooling inside you as you ride out your orgasm, collapsing down onto him and rolling off to his side.

"I'm saving that for later," he smiles, out of breath as he stops the recording.

"So how was it?" you ask. "Was it everything you expected?”

"I didn't know it was possible for anything to feel that good; that was incredible," he huffs, still trying to catch his breath.

"Come on now, get up. I gotta get this comforter washed, dried, and back on your bed before your parents get home."

The two of you play Mario Kart 64 until the comforter is done, and he helps you put it back on his bed.

"We should probably head back downstairs now. Your family will probably be back any minute," you say.

Back in the living room, the two of you sit on the couch and put the T.V. on.

"So, what do you think your parents would do if they found out?" you tease

"Ummm, fire you!" he laughs. His smile, his laugh… it's just too perfect, and you find yourself kissing him again, only to be interrupted by the sound of keys jingling in the door. You tear apart from each other, jumping to opposite ends of the couch, as his family walks through the door.

"Hey, Tyler. Your brother just called, he said he's sorry he should have listened to you because now he's snowed in. Do you know when the next school break is? I really want to see him," Mrs. Joseph asks.

"Not soon enough," Tyler says, sneaking a look at you.

Back to School is pt.2 to this