#if your high school was anything like mine you also had these clique girl friend groups | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 1: Wolf Moon (Part Two)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Stiles and Y/N finally talk! Yay!

————————

I nearly jumped out of moms car as she skidded to a stop outside Beacon Hills High School. Somehow, I was late on my first day. Not a good first impression. She started her new job at the hospital today, too, but she didn’t have to be in until around noon.

“Good luck honey!” She called out and I sent a dismissive wave over my shoulder.

I slammed the passenger door shut and walked briskly toward the school. I was supposed to meet the principal out here for some reason, so I found a bench to sit on while I waited. I plopped down and immediately noticed a girl sitting on the bench across from me, talking on the phone. She had long dark hair that fell over her shoulders in loose waves and dark brown eyes. She looked tall and slender as she crossed her legs and ruffled through the beige bag beside her.

“Mom, a call on my first day is a little overdoing it.” She huffed and continued searching in her purse. “Everything but a pen. Oh, my God. I didn’t actually forget a pen. Okay. I gotta go. Love ya.”

Just then, a man wearing a grey suit approached us. He stopped in front of her and smiled politely at us both.

“Sorry for the wait.” He greeted.

I stood and slowly made my way toward both of them, assuming that she was another new student getting a chauffeur to her first class, too. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and sent me a timid smile. I returned the favor.

“Allison, meet Y/N. Y/N, Allison.” The man started walking and we followed silently. “So, you were saying San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?”

I figured he was talking to Allison since I’ve never lived in San Francisco nor spoken to him before.

“No, but we lived there for more than a year. Which is unusual for my family.”

That piqued my interest.

“Y/N, I take it you recently moved here as well?” The principal’s eyes met mine and I nodded.

“We move a lot, too.” Allison looked relieved not to be the only one and I had to admit that I was glad too. It was nice to know someone who could relate to my weird upbringing, even if we didn’t end up being friends.

“Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be both of your last stops for awhile.” Our tour guide said cheerfully with a grin.

He led us into the school and through the halls casually. They were empty since we were late, and everyone was in class already. I glanced around, noting that it looked utterly normal. Normal was good. Normal was safe. Despite that revelation, my heart rate picked up and I wiped my sticky palms on my jeans. I always hated starting over. It made me incredibly nervous every time.

The principal made a right turn and opened a wooden classroom door. He stepped inside and both Allison and I followed. We must have the same first period. She looked even more nervous than I felt. She was constantly fidgeting with her hands and wasn’t making eye contact with anyone as we stood before the class. I, on the other hand, let my gaze sweep over the room as he introduced us.

“Class, these are our new students, Allison Argent and Y/N Y/L/N. Please do your best to make them feel welcome.”

He left quickly, leaving us to find empty seats. Allison instantly started walking toward the back of the room, probably not wanting to be the center of attention anymore, but I hesitated as I caught sight of two familiar people. It took me a second, since I’d only seen them in the dark, but those two boys were definitely the same ones from last night.

The one with shaggy hair, Scott, was staring at Allison with a small, dopey smile. His friend with the buzzed hair was glaring at the back of his head, as if he could sense that he was thinking something stupid. He, once again, was wearing too many layers. He wore a t-shirt, a grey zip-up hoodie, and a black jacket. I figured it must just be a style choice.

I forced my legs to move when I noticed that Allison was already sliding into the chair behind Scott. I made my way to the only other free desk, which was a row over behind his friend. Once I was seated, I let my bag fall to the floor beside me and tried to relax. That had been pretty painless.

I fished inside my bag for a pencil and watched as Scott turned to Allison. He handed her a pen and she took it with a quiet, “thanks”. My brows furrowed. How did he know she needed a pen? She’d said she forgot one while outside, but she had barely just sat down. He had no way of knowing.

“We’ll begin with Kafka’s Metamorphosis on page 133.” The teacher announced, and my attention snapped back to the front of the room.

Well, that was weird.

————————

The bell rang to dismiss us for the day and I rose to my feet quickly. My first day hadn’t been awful. I’d chatted with a few classmates and hadn’t felt too lost in my classes. Sometimes it was hard moving from place to place, because not every state teaches on the same schedule.

I glanced down at the piece of paper I’d written my locker number and combination on and made my way toward it. It was only when I started dialing in the numbers that I noticed Allison was standing beside me at her own locker.

“Following me?” I joked, and she laughed lightly.

“Hey, us new kids have to stick together, right?” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and concentrated on opening her lock.

She popped it open and glanced across the hall. I followed her gaze and rolled my eyes when I saw that Scott was staring dreamily at her. He was leaning against his own locker, looking like a lost puppy. She sent him a timid smile in return and turned back toward me.

A sudden voice from behind had us both turning around. “That jacket is absolutely killer.”

The compliment had come from a petit girl with strawberry blonde hair and an outfit to die for. She was wearing a red, white, and blue plaid mini skirt with a royal blue sweater tucked inside. Her beautiful green eyes were expertly framed by subtle makeup. She looked more like a model than a high school student.

“Where’d you get it?” She prodded when Allison didn’t respond right away.

She hesitated for another moment. “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco.”

The girl’s gaze moved in my direction and she looked me up and down. I prepared myself for the worst but was surprised when her eyes lit up in excitement.

“Those shoes!” She gasped. I looked down at my ankle boots then back up to her. “Is your mom a fashion buyer too?”

“No,” I chuckled, relieved that she was actually being nice to me. I didn’t have a great track record with the popular crowd. “She’s a nurse.”

“And...you are my new best friends.” She smirked as Allison and I shared a quick, uncertain glance. This girl was nice, sure, but also a bit over the top for my liking.

Just then, a guy walked up and put his arm around our “new best friend”, who I realized still hadn’t formally introduced herself.

“Hey, Jackson.” They shared a brief kiss before both of their gazes were on us again. Well, at least I know his name.

He was admittedly a very attractive guy. His blond hair was short and spiked at his forehead, and he was clearly muscular beneath his thin t-shirt and plaid button up. He even had a strong jaw and striking turquoise eyes, to boot.

“So, this weekend there’s a party.” The girl crossed her arms and leaned back against Jackson’s chest.

“A party?” Allison echoed with a swallow.

“Yeah, Friday night. You should come.” Jackson chimed in, smirking devilishly.

“Oh, I can’t. It’s family night this Friday. Thanks for asking.” She quickly brushed them off. It was clear that she was lying. To me, at least.

All of their eyes moved in my direction and I glanced between them as I weighed my options.

“Sure. I’m in.” I shrugged.

I had never been a big partier, but it wouldn’t hurt to socialize a little. I’d never been invited to something on my first day at a new school, so I took it as a good sign. I wanted to make friends here. I wanted normalcy. And fun.

“We have tryouts in a few minutes.” Jackson suddenly announced. It took me a moment to realize that he was inviting us to watch. “That is, if you don’t have anything else...”

“Well, I was going to...”

“I actually have...”

We were both cut off as the girl gripped each of our wrists lightly.

“Perfect.” She smirked and urged us with her eyes to comply. “You’re coming.”

———————

I took a seat next to Allison and Lydia—yes, I finally asked her name—in the stands, rubbing my hands together against the chilly late afternoon air. I was slightly surprised to learn that we’d be watching lacrosse. I just assumed the tryouts would be for football.

I watched as Allison and Scott stared at each other from across the field very obviously and wondered what their deal was. It was almost like they had a history or something.

“Who’s that?” She suddenly asked, her eyes still on him.

“Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?” Lydia’s tone was slightly judgmental, giving her feelings away easily. She clearly didn’t like to associate with anyone outside her clique.

“He’s in my English class.” Allison muttered, seemingly embarrassed to have asked.

I saw him cock his head to the side out on the field, almost as if he could hear us. I narrowed my eyes as the coach blew his whistle and Scott covered his ears like it physically hurt him.

“His name is Scott.” I said without thinking about how I shouldn’t know that.

Both girls looked at me in question and I shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I’m observant.”

They easily accepted my answer and turned their attention back to the tryouts. I winced as the poor guy took a ball to the face. After that one hit, he did surprisingly well. He caught each pass that came his way without effort. After Scott caught another round of balls, Jackson shoved his way to the front of the line, looking pissed off.

He threw as hard as he could, jumping a couple feet in the air as his body twisted from the force of it. We all watched with baited breath as the ball flung toward Scott. The stands erupted into cheers the second he caught it. His friend with the buzzed hair jumped up and waved his hands excitedly. Even Lydia stood to clap her hands.

“That’s my friend!” The guy shouted. Jeez, I really need to learn his name already.

Lydia cheered again and sent Jackson a pointed look. It was as if she were scolding him from afar and saying, “I’m only dating you because you’re the best player, so shape up.” He glared back, his nostrils flaring in anger.

—————————

“I made a complete and total fool of myself.”

I rolled my eyes and shut my locker with a quiet click. Allison was freaking out over nothing.

“He asked to you to go to the party with him.” I reassured her, leaning against the cool metal while I waited for her to gather her things. She had graciously offered me a ride home from school since my mom was working until late tonight.

“Probably out of pity or something.” She sighed and shut her locker.

She was nervous that she had scared Scott off after rushing into the animal clinic last night with a dog she’d somehow run over. Clearly, it was fine. Despite her “utter hysterics” as she called them, he’d invited her to the party this weekend. That was a good thing. It meant he didn’t care that she was an over emotional dog-hitter.

Speaking of Scott, we were quickly approaching where he stood at his locker. We were still at the end of the now empty hall when Jackson walked up and harshly slammed the metal door shut. On instinct, I grabbed Allison’s arm and dragged her into a nearby classroom.

I moved my head into the hall just enough to see them. She looked at me like I was crazy until I pointed in their direction. She seemed to catch on and ducked down beside me.

“Alright, little man.” Jackson huffed, invading Scott’s personal space. “How about you tell me where you’re getting your juice?”

“Juice?” Allison murmured, and I shushed her.

“What?” Scott sounded breathless.

“Where are you getting your juice?” Jackson enunciated each word, as if dumbing it down for him to understand.

He hesitated for a long moment. “My mom does all the grocery shopping.”

I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep my giggle from outing us. I mean, come on. That was so dumb. Allison glared at me for laughing at her crush, but I saw her lips twitching as she fought a smile.

“Now listen, McCall. You’re going to tell me exactly what it is and who you’re buying it from, because there’s no way in hell you’re out there kicking ass in the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.” Jackson spat the words in Scott’s face, sounding incredibly angry.

“Oh,” Scott’s eyes lit up with recognition. “You mean steroids. Are you on steroids?”

Jackson slammed him into the lockers and both Allison and I jumped in surprise at his aggression. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“You wanna know whats going on with me?” He shoved Jackson away harshly. “You really wanna know? Well, so would I! Because I can see, hear, and smell things that I shouldn’t be able to see, hear, and smell. I do things that should be impossible! I’m sleepwalking three miles into the woods—.”

My shoulders tensed as memories of me doing that exact thing the other night flashed in my mind. He’d been sleepwalking too?

“—and I’m pretty much convinced that I’m totally out of my freaking mind!” He breathed out a heavy sigh and let his head fall back into the lockers.

Allison and I stood completely still, stunned by his words. So he had been listening to her phone call on the first day. That’s how he knew she needed a pen. And he’d heard us again in the stands at tryouts. He’d just confirmed it, he had supernatural abilities. By the sounds of it, they were new, too. But how?

“You think you’re funny, don’t you, McCall? I know you’re hiding something. I’m gonna find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.” Jackson slammed his fist against the lockers and stalked off.

I shut the door to the classroom we were hiding in and leaned against it, my head swimming with information. My eyes caught Allison’s and she looked back at me, slightly terrified.

“What. The. Hell. Was. That.”

————————

I shifted my red solo cup between hands and leaned against one of the thick columns on either side of the pool. Lydia really knew how to throw a party. The outdoor space was packed with dancing bodies. Music thumped loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood. It looked like everyone was having the time of their lives, my friends included.

Scott and Allison were dancing a few feet away from me. On the car ride home, we’d decided to investigate his weird outburst another time. It was just too much to deal with right now. It appeared she’d moved on from it already as they got progressively closer. Lydia and Jackson were grinding against the column beside me, although she was glaring in Allison’s direction with a hint of jealousy, which was weird.

Just then, someone bumped into my shoulder, causing my drink to spill down my arm. I jumped back, trying to keep it from going all over my clothes, and glared at the perpetrator next to me.

“Ah, sorry.” He winced before turning away. I rolled my eyes at his quick departure. Great, just great. It was bad enough that I was fifth-wheeling at this thing. Now I was cold and sticky.

Surprisingly, the guy returned a moment later with a handful of napkins. Way too many napkins. I let him dab at my arm for a few seconds until he was satisfied that it was dry. He glanced up at me, and I realized it was Scott’s spaz of a friend.

Now that I was less than a foot away from him, I noticed how adorable he really was. His boyish features were littered with small freckles and his thin lips were pulled into a sheepish smile. His light brown eyes, the color of molten caramel, were warm and kind.

Those eyes flickered around my face before landing back on my own.

“Stiles...” He mumbled, sounding breathless.

“What?” I wasn��t sure if he’d just sneezed or had a stroke or what, but that was definitely not a real word.

From the corner of my eye I saw Scott suddenly wince in front of Allison and stagger away from her. She watched him disappear into the crowd, looking both confused and concerned. His friend called his name and immediately ran after him, ending whatever weird conversation we were starting.

Just then, I felt a dark presence behind me. My heart started racing and my shoulders tensed as an ominous feeling overwhelmed my senses. I turned slowly to see a tall man in a leather jacket staring straight at me.

That is definitely not a teenager.

He took a step forward and I took one back.

“You know, you shouldn’t make a habit of trespassing on private property.” His voice was deep with warning. He stared straight into my soul and I gulped.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

I was suddenly missing the goofy boy’s company. Before the creepy guy could say anything else, Allison appeared at my side with tears in her eyes.

“I wanna go home.” She sounded incredibly upset that Scott had just up and left her. I couldn’t really blame her, either. He was acting really weird. “Who’s this?”

“My name is Derek.” Creepy guy shoved his hands into the pockets of his thick jacket. “I’m a friend of Scott’s.”

I eyed him carefully. I’d never seen the two talk and he looked way too old to be friends with a sophomore in high school. The guy practically exuded dishonesty.

“Need a ride?”

I was about to politely decline when Allison nodded enthusiastically. She just wanted to get out of here, and since we both drove with other people we were kind of stranded. She started walking away with him so I had no other choice but to follow along, I didn’t like it one bit. My stomach was churning uncomfortably at the thought of us being alone with this guy.

Whatever happened to stranger danger, anyway?

Although the ride was a little awkward, we both made it home safely that night. Little did we know what was lurking just around the corner.

Episode 1, Part One Episode 2, Part One

#stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #stiles #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf series #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #teen wolf season one #derek hale #dylan obrien #stiles x original character #stiles x oc #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf rewrite

116 notes · View notes

vcidgalpin · 4 years

Text

Wolf Moon Pt 1

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 1748

A/N: This is kind of short, but I wanted to get out what I’ve written so far. I hope you enjoy this. I’m going to focus a few parts on each episode. Also I am sorry if I get anything wrong about american high schools, I am from the UK.

Warnings: Mention of a dead body?

---

“Ugh, this doesn’t look right either,” I say, staring at my outfit in the mirror. This is the 4th one I’ve looked at, and it still isn’t perfect. Usually I am not one to get hung up on silly things like clothes, but tomorrow was the first day of sophomore year, and I made a promise to my mum that I would be more confident. Sighing, I walk back over to my closet, fishing through until finally I see something that catches my eye. A pair of low rise jeans that I painted butterflies onto hang near the back of my closet. Grabbing them and a white, cropped tank top, I walk into my ensuite and change into them. Standing in front of the mirror, a smile grows on my lips. ‘Finally,’ I think to myself. ‘This is the one’.

Slightly to the left of my mirror, I can see two people arguing outside my window. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. The family that I live across from always seems to be getting up to something at the most unbelievable hours. I think the boy who lives there is called Scott Mccall? Him and his buzz-haired friend, who’s name I never learned, seem so outgoing, but they seem to blend in when they’re at school. I only moved here around 2 years ago, after I was discovered by some hunters, so maybe I’m missing something, but it is a curious thing. Listening in on their conversation, with my ever so helpful werewolf hearing I lean more towards the window to get a better look.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods,” One says, way too cheerily for the matter at hand.

“A dead body?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body. And here’s the best part. They only found half,” My brows shot up upon hearing that. As I attempt to take another step towards my window I kick the corner of my desk, yelping out in pain, a few things clamoring to the floor. Still wincing in pain as I heal, I look up to see the two boys with their wide gazes directly on me. I push the curtains closed, embarrassed, and facepalm.

Swapping out my clothes for some sweats and a hoodie, I flop onto the bed. If I hadn’t been caught, I would’ve been tempted to follow them out into the woods, but now all that’s on my mind is how awkward that was. Switching off my light and setting my alarm, I eventually drift off to sleep.

---

Beacon Hills High School. Getting out of my car, I hang my head, staring at my feet as I approach the school. I see those two boys from last night again, and am instantly hit with a wave of discomfort, remembering how I had been caught snooping on their exchange, so I pick up my pace in hopes of avoiding confrontation. Bursting through the doors, I catch my breath, and see a lot of people I’ve never seen before. Freshman. Some of the boys stare, and I start to think my slightly revealing outfit was a bad idea. I make a b-line for my locker, and see a stunning, doe-eyed girl standing, looking around, lost.

“Hey, it’s a bit overwhelming isn’t it?” I speak up, and she looks up at me, a shy smile on her face. “I’m Y/N. Are you a freshman?”

“Sophomore, actually. My family just moved here. I’m Allison.” She reaches out a hand, and I shake it with a grin. ‘Wow, this is going better than usual for me,’.

“I would be happy to show you where you need to go, I’m guessing you are looking for the office?”

“Actually, I was told to wait in the courtyard?”

“Ah, that’s their fancy word for the seating area in front of school. This school is all about pretending to be something it’s clearly not,” That gained a chuckle from Allison, making my few remaining nerves ease up. “Come on, I’ll walk you there before the bell rings.” I go to take a couple of steps and see her with her arm out, for me to link. Now it was my time to giggle. Linking our arms, I lead her back outside and then we part ways.

---

At the back of the flow of people, I walk into first period English, to see only two seats are free. One behind Scott, next to the other boy, and one in front of said second boy, next to Scott. ‘Great, just my luck,’. I lower my head down again and go to sit in the seat available next to Scott, instantly sinking myself into the chair, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Turning to pull my books out, I see Scott and the guy, who I should really learn the name of, exchanging looks and gesturing towards me. ‘Yeah they definitely saw me’. I try to shrug it off, delving into the syllabus on my desk instead. The teacher starts to ramble on about the body found last night, but I’m not in the headframe to listen to his monotone voice, so I try to block it out. From the corner of my eye, I see Scott wince, which seemed odd as the only noise that could be heard around the room was the rustling of papers, and the groans of the other students in the room. I focused my hearing, and came across the chiming of someone’s phone.

Outside I can see Allison sat at a bench, clearly still waiting for the teacher’s aid, or whoever, to show her around. She starts talking to her mum, fishing through her bag as she does so.

“Oh my God, I didn’t actually forget a pen,” She huffs out, scrunching up her face in annoyance at her mistake. I turn back around, to see Scott also watching Allison. ‘No, he can’t be- It’s not possible, there isn’t an alpha in Beacon Hills. I’m just being paranoid,’ I convince myself. Just a moment later, the principal walks in with Allison at his side and everyone looks up.

“Class, this is our new student. Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome,” Her eyes twinkle as they meet mine, and I give her a gentle nod. She sits in the seat behind Scott. The boy quickly grabs a pen from his pencil case and turns to her, holding it out. ‘Okay, I don’t know if I can logic my way out of that one if he isn’t a werewolf. But why is he so jumpy, he can’t have been recently turned. Then again, I would’ve smelled if- Wait! That’s it.’ I tried to get a scent from the young boy, and what I didn’t want to be true, ended up being confirmed. He’s a werewolf.

---

Leaning against a locker, I chat idly to Allison, as she swaps a few things out of her own. My eyes wander down the hall, finding Scott trying to listen in, but clearly in pain from all the slamming lockers, and hundreds of conversations going on. Allison closes her locker, and he winces. I breathe out a laugh, ‘That’s what he gets for trying to listen in’. We moved to walk down the hallway before stopping, Lydia Martin now stood in our path.

“That jacket is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?” I can’t believe she’s talking to us. She seems so untouchable, and high-key threatening. Of course, Allison doesn’t know her, so she casually replies,

“My mum was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” Okay, that’s kinda cool.

“And you,” She scans down my outfit, her eyes fixate on my jeans. Nerves start to crawl over my whole body under her judging stare. “Those jeans are incredible. Are they from Urban?”

“Oh-Uh, no. I actually got them from a thrift store and painted them myself,” I stutter, hoping that she doesn’t make a comment on how thrift stores are cheap or something.

“And you are my new best friends,” That caught me way off guard. Her voice seems kind of fake, but at this point, I think that’s just how she talks. Before I can register what is happening, another person hops into the conversation. Lydia’s scary boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore. She greets him with a kiss, that I avert my eyes from. I hear one of the girls from my Biology class, Harley, gossiping away.

“How is it that New Girl is here all of 5 minutes and she’s already a part of Lydia’s clique. And Y/N is too all of a sudden,” I roll my eyes at her tone, she’s a lot nicer to my face than she’s being now. But I can’t really blame her, I don’t know how I got into this situation either to be honest.

“Cus they’re hot. Beautiful people herd together.” My cheeks burn at that comment. I don’t really get compliments that often, I definitely didn’t expect to be labelled as ‘hot’, so that’s a pleasant surprise.

“Is that why Lydia isn’t herding with you?”

“Lydia’s a long term project, okay? And trust me, I’ve got all the patience in the world for a high yield investment like her,” Ah. So he likes Lydia? Interesting. I mean, I’m sure hundreds of sophomores are gunning for her too, so I guess that isn’t a shock. Hell, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.

“Anyway, I don’t think they’re that pretty. Scott, do you think they’re hot? Scott-” Ouch. I can see Scott looking in my direction, likely at Allison, but I switch my focus back onto Lydia and Jackson so as to not be noticed.

“So, this weekend, there’s a party,”

“A party?”

“Yeah, this Friday. You two should come,” Jackson looks me dead in the eyes, and I shuffle uncomfortably at the intense eye contact.

“I can’t. It’s family night this Friday. But thanks for asking,” Allison says, seemingly apologetically. But from her heartbeat, I can tell she’s lying.

“You sure? Everyone’s going after the scrimmage.”

“Like, football?”

“Lacrosse actually,” I finally found my way into the conversation. “Football is kinda laughed at here, I guess,”

“We won state championships three years in a row thanks to a certain team captain,” Lydia presses into Jackson affectionately.

“You should come and watch practice. You don’t have anywhere to be right after school do you?” Me and Allison shake our heads and are instantly grabbed by Lydia,

“Perfect. You’re coming.”

Part 2

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #scott mccall #allison argent #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #reader insert #teen wolf series #teen wolf season 1 #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #i dont know how to tag

94 notes · View notes

thosesouthparkimagines · 4 years

Text

For You, Anything. (Cartman!Reader x Kyle)

(Y/N) Cartman. My full name. Sibling to the well known as an idiot, Eric Cartman. We were twins, I was born 10 minutes earlier, much to his dismay,and he always made my life a living hell for it. He did not think it was fair to him that he was younger, but that was the way it was.

“(Y/NNNNNN). Come on. We’re gonna be lateeeee” my brother groans, his annoying voice slipping out as he whines. “Come onnnnn.”

“Relax Eric, I’ll come when I come” I say, irritated.

“Haha. Thats what she-”

“Finish that statement and I’ll punch your teeth in” . He goes silent. I’m the only one he’d listen to because he knows I won’t put up with his bullshit.

“Finally. Jesus woman, you take forever to get ready” Eric says, sighing in relief when I finally come downstairs ready to go.

“Yeah, yeah. Lets just go before we miss the bus.”

This was the first year I was attending school with Eric. When we were younger, we did not get along, so I went to live with our father. He got sick of me and sent me back to live with my mom and Eric, telling me to never contact him again, and then I was forced to finish my senior year of high school in a new city, with new people, with my twin brother, who I have learned, has the reputation of an asshole.

We arrive down at the bus stop, where we are met with four other boys our age. One with black hair wearing a red and blue hat, one blonde haired kid, hiding most of his face in a parka, and the last one, a red haired boy, wearing a green hat.

“Hey Cartman.” The one in the blue hat says, referring to my brother, but pauses when he sees me next to him. “Um. Who’s this”

“Yeah she’s hot. I’d like to get a piece of that” the orange parka boy says.

“I’m (Y/N) Car-” I’m cut off.

“Her name is (Y/N). She just moved here. We’re neighbors.” He gives me a death glare which immediately tells me to shut my mouth.

“Uh, Hi” I notice the guy in the green hat still hasn’t said anything to me. He just stares. It’s really creepy.

“Fatass. What did you do to this poor girl?” Green hat guy asks, looking at me in concern. “She seemed scared out of her wits.” Oh I wasn’t scared. Eric wanted to pretend I wasn’t his sister, fine, but I’m going to play this to the best of my abilities.

“He didn’t do anything to me” I say sweetly, batting my eyelashes, and the green hatted kid’s face goes bright red. “I never did catch your name. I don’t think its fair you know mine, but I don’t know yours”

“Uh, K-Kyle” he is a red, stuttering mess. But his name fits him. I don’t exactly know how it fits so well, but just by looking at his face, it matches. The green eyes, freckles littered around the bridge of his nose like stars at twilight. It’s soothing. We both get caught up in our staring we forget about the other three boys standing next to us, carrying on with their own conversation, or the fact that the school bus pulled up and was waiting for us to board. It seemed as if we were in our own little world.

“Hey!”. It’s Eric’s screaming that breaks us out of our trance, both looking away with red cheeks that didn’t come from the freezing Colorado air. “Let’s gooooo” he whines, for the countless time this morning.

“Jesus, fatass, okay we’ll get on” Kyle says, irritation easily changing his entire attitude. He looks towards me and notions for me to get on the bus before him, after the other three had boarded and taken their seats. The entire bus ride was boring, just Kyle and Eric going back and forth between each other, insults making their way in every other word. I sat next to the boy with the blue hat that introduced himself as Stan, and behind the parka wearing boy named Kenny, who remained turned around in his seat no matter how many times he got yelled at.

The bus ride to the small high school was short, too short for my liking. Talking with Stan and Kenny was a lot of fun, and I didn’t want to end it. But as quickly as our friendship had come, the conversations had come to an end.

“Hey, (Y/N)! What class do you have first?” Stan asks, as we exit the bus and stand at the entrance of South Park High. It reminded me of the school back home, with the obvious cliques seen just by gazing around the campus, and the judgemental looks I felt by anyone who walked by.

“Um, English, with um Mr.Garrison?”

“Oh shit dude” Kenny speaks “You’re with me!”. He slings his arm across my shoulders and flashes me a bright smile.

“Woah, Kenny, you got Garrison?” Cartman asks, bursting out laughing. “Oh man that’s great”

“What’s so bad about Garrison?” I ask, shrugging off Kenny’s arm, blind to the glare Kyle sent towards the parka wearing boy.

“Oh man what isn’t wrong with him? He was our fourth grade teacher and underwent like 4 sex changes, went from being gay, to lesbian, to straight, back to gay, and then became president and tried to build a wall between us and Mexico. He insane” Stan says, making elaborate hand gestures to show effect.

“He seems crazy, you guys must have had a rough childhood from that. I’m sorry”. All three boys laugh at that.

“You have no idea how rough our childhood was” Kyle chuckles. The second he finishes laughing, the bell rings, sending us in our separate ways in promise to meet up for lunch. I follow Kenny towards the classroom, eager to see the man that seemed so bad. Upon entering the room, Mr.Garrison is standing in front of several rows of desks, a chalkboard behind. Could they not afford computers and screens? The old school I attended had them. Mr.Garrison was an older man, half balding with grey hair as the little he had. Some sort of puppet was on his left hand. Great, he seemed as crazy as the guys made him out to be.

“Oh. You must be the new girl.” Mr.Garrison says, and I nod, and walk up to him.

“Could you not mention my last name please? I’m trying to avoid people knowing” I say quietly to him, and he looks at his roster and his eyes widen.

“(Y/N) Cartman? You’re related to that little asshole?” He says loudly, but not loud enough for anyone to hear, just the person standing behind me.

“You’re related to Cartman?” I hear Kenny’s muffled, but shock filled question. I turn around and cover his mouth, or where I think his mouth is.

“You can’t tell anyone! You have to promise me!” I say quickly, and Kenny chuckles.

“Oh man, Kyle has a thing for you and you’re related to that fatass. Good luck”. He turns towards the rows of desks and sits down, patting the seat next to him, motioning for me to sit. I take the desk next to him, and next to another kid. He seems to be wearing a letterman jacket, with brown hair. Just by the way he was sitting, it was easy to see that he was cocky. The second I sat down in my seat beside Kenny, he turns his entire body away from the blonde girl he was talking with.

“I haven’t seen you around here. Are you new?” He asks “I’m Clyde, Clyde Donivian” he says, extending a hand out towards me.

“(Y/N).” I give him a smile.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl” he says, flashing a smile, when Kenny interrupts.

“Back off Donivan. Kyle’s called dibs” Kenny chuckles, and in return Clyde pouts, going back to flirting with the girl in the opposite side of him. I turn towards Kenny.

“What do you mean that Kyle called dibs? I’m not something that you can just, claim” I say, before turning and facing forward as the bell rings. Kenny attempts to get my attention throughout the rest of class but I chose to ignore him, still a bit upset.

Soon enough lunch comes, and I make my way towards the cafeteria, after stopping and asking for directions a few times. Entering the loud, crowded cafeteria, instantly notoicing the orange parka and green hat, she makes a beeline towards the only group she really knows. She makes it about halfway when she’s whipped away by a blue hooded man, towards another table.

“What? Hey!” She says, attempting to getr out of this strangers grasp. Being this close to him, she began to notice a few things. His black hair stuck out in small parts of his hood, and he had extremely blue eyes. He leads me towards a table. I recognize the brown haired boy from class, Clyde, but there was also two other boys seated there.

“Craig-ack! You can’t just-just drag her here!” the blonde haired boy says, his words stuttered.

“Yeah! You should have asked her!” he turns to me. “I uh, I’m sorry about Craig here. I’m Token. These are my friends, Tweek-” he points to the blonde one, “Craig” he points to the one still holding onto me, who in return flips them off, “and Clyde”.

“Uh, hi? Why am I over here?” I ask, turning towards the boys at the table

“Well, you’re hot, we’re hot, you should be with us” Clyde speaks up, attempting to wink.

“Yeah- uh, no. I’ll be going back now” I say, attempting to leave, but Craig, still silent, grabs hold of my arm.

“Sit” his voice finally speaks. Not wanting to go against him, I sit on the empty side of the table, as far as I could from the boys, which becomes futile as Craig sits right beside me.

“So, (Y/N). What brings you to south park?” Token asks

“I decided to move back with my mom who lives here” is all I say, not really wanting to talk to the guys who quite literally kidnapped me.

“Ack- you’re-you’re from here?” Tweek says, to which I give a nod.

“(Y/N)!” I hear a voice and my head whips around, and I see Kenny storming towards me. He grabs hold of my arm and takes me from the table, much to their irritation. “Why are you with these assholes? You’re supposed to be with us!” he says, beginning to drag me back towards their table.

Stan seemed to be interested into the black haired girl sitting at the table, while Kyle and Eric were arguing over something. The second I arrived back at their table, they go silent,. Kyle sends me a smile as I sit, which I return.

“Where the hell were you (Y/N)? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!” Eric complains “Not like you care, but Craig and his crew apparently had something important to say to me”

“You were with Craig's crew! Stay away from them! They’re not good influences!” I roll my eyes

“It wasn’t like I wanted to go over there”

“Whatever. Give me my cheezy poofs-” Eric mumbles, before I throw the bag of the chips at him.

“Fatass- stop harassing the new girl! Bring your own cheey poofs” Kyle says

“Well our mom packed them for me but then she put them in (Y/N)’s bag instead of mine.” Kyle freezes

“Wait- are you- related to fatass” Kyle asks, looking towards me.

“I-uh, yeah. He’s my twin” I admit. Instantly Kyle is up out of his seat and making his way into the hall.

I look towards Stan, since they seem to be the closest, but he shrugs, as if not knowing what to say.

The rest of the day goes without a hitch. I finish my classes and make my way home, choosing to walk rather than ride the bus. Kyle refused to look me in the eye the rest of the day, which really hurt.

Once I arrive home, I head straight up to my room, not stopping to listen to Eric calling our mother all the names he could for the mix up at lunch. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I sigh, pulling out my headphones and starting my homework. I had a lot to catch up on, especially since I came in the middle of the school year, but It was easy, especially because I had already learned most of it from my other school.

A solid and hard knock on my window is what jolts me from my focus. I whip my head around to see the familiar green hat outside my window. Instantly I go and open it, allowing him to crawl in and sprawl on my bedroom floor. A few puffs of his red hair stuck out of his hat as he went to catch his breath.

“What-what are you doing here?” I ask, sitting back on my bed. Last I checked, he was angry at me for being related to Eric. It’s not like I could change that.

“I-I wanted to apologize” he says, sitting up after catching his breath. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I just, couldn’t believe you’re related to the fatass”

“Our parents separated when we were young. Our father took me away with him. He soon sent me back here” I say. “I hardly know Eric.”

“You both are so different. You’re so amazing. You’re smart, kind, pretty-” he pauses, his cheeks going bright red. “I-I didn’t mean that. No- I’m mean, you are pretty, I just didn’t mean to say it- no I did mean to say it agh!” he says, before falling silent.

“Kyle-”

“Damnit! I have feelings for you and the fact that you’re related to that asshole-”

“Kyle”

‘You’re so much different than he is and I really like you, and I-”

“Damnit Kyle just shut up!” I shout, which finally gets his attention. “I like you too okay? Now stop being such a baby about this” I say

“Wait-you-you feel the same?” he asks, to which I nod.

“I thought it was obvious-” I can’t finish my sentence before he throws himself onto me, kissing me. I’ve read somewhere that the first kiss feels like fireworks, but this seem to feel better.

He doesnt stop, even when we both need air, he pulls back and goes right back into kissing me, shifting until he’s hovering over me on my bed. When he finally pulls away, we’re both panting, red in the cheeks.

“Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” Kyle asks, before lying next to me.

“That depends, if you’re willing to put up with Eric”

“For you? Anything”

#eric cartman #south park #south park x reader #kyle #kyle x reader #stan #kenny #craig #tweek #token #wendy #cartman #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #tweek tweak #wendy testaburger

257 notes · View notes

flowerslut · 4 years

Photo

Merry Christmas @tragicallywicked! And SURPRISE! I was your Jalice secret Santa! 🥰🎄🙈

Now, let me introduce to you the 15k+ idea that was born last night and that I vomited up and edited in roughly 24 hours. Trust me, it doesn’t read like it’s a hastily-scrapped together fic; I pinky promise. I’m very proud of this fic. Sorry about the whump though. It wasn't unintentional; honest.

Summary: He contemplates telling Peter about Alice’s visits, but something holds him back from doing it. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like Alice whenever she’s lying on his bedroom floor, curled in an old blanket that’s too small for him but perfectly sized for her, utterly still and silent even while awake. A part of him feels like it would be a betrayal to reveal this side of her to someone even as close to him as Peter is. After all, Peter is his friend. And Alice is… well, not.

Title: No Friend of Mine Words: 15,199 Rating: T Read on: AO3 // or under the cut

He’s not friends with Alice Brandon.

Not really. But in the time it’s taken for him to even properly learn her name—Alice, not Mary-Alice, he hears her cheerfully inform a group of girls making nasty comments one day; comments designed to hurt, and to be overheard—she has apparently decided that Jasper is her friend, and that’s where things become a little confusing.

Maybe she’s just a glutton for punishment. After all, if she wanted an easy time of it, there was an entire list of things she could do to avoid it. That sounded mean, but it was true.

She’s just a weird girl. Plenty of those in the world. No crime about that. About girls who dance in the hallways between classes, or who talk to strangers with the friendliness of someone who’s known them for years. There is nothing wrong with the fact that Alice Brandon wears her hair in bizarre styles or wears clothes that... alright, well maybe that is something that he doesn’t understand, either. Not that he is an expert on fashion, but even Jasper knows her choices are strange.

Alice Brandon being weird doesn’t affect him in the way that it apparently offends most of the students in their tiny school. He can picture her fitting in better at a larger school in a different school district, perhaps. More students always meant more variety, diversity, and cliques. More students would’ve meant that there would have been a whole slew of other weird kids of Alice’s type that she could have hung out with.

But not in Fork’s high.

Which meant the day Alice showed up at his corner of the cafeteria, tray in hand as she grinned over at him and Peter, he felt something in him twist as she sat down beside him, making a remark to Peter he couldn’t quite focus on as he realized that with an absence of overt weirdos at the school, Alice was going to come to the next-best thing. Their little group of ‘misfits’.

He had glanced further down the rectangular table and made quick eye contact with Edward Cullen and Bella Swan, who had also noted the tiny dark-haired girl’s presence, but neither of them made a comment, and Jasper spent the rest of the lunch period wishing she’d sat down next to those two, and not himself and Peter.

It wasn’t to be mean. Truly. But Jasper preferred to go through life (and school) as completely unnoticed as possible. And for the first few weeks Alice Brandon had attended Fork’s high, it seemed that’s all she did: attract attention.

He’s not exactly friends with Alice Brandon.

After all, he knows so little about her. Only that she moved to Washington state about a couple months back with her family. That she’s a sophomore; a year behind both Peter and Jasper. And that she doesn’t need much encouragement, or participation really, when it comes to conversation. Alice can talk about anything and everything at length.

He knows, only because of the way she pronounces certain words, that she’s probably from the South. He knows, because his sister Rosalie has art with her, that she struggles a lot with simple tasks and often misunderstands requests from teachers. And he knows, because adults like to gossip when they don’t think teenagers are around, that the story as to why Alice’s family moved to that town is shrouded in some layer of secrecy.

Even when Bella, on one of the days Alice attempted to unite both ends of their lunch table in one cohesive conversation, had asked her a simple question about her ‘old school’ Alice had ignored the question entirely, before delving into an at-length explanation of the way she’d designed her favorite skirt.

Jasper had stood up and left lunch early that day. It wasn’t that he hated the girl, or even that he dislike her, but she bothered him so fiercely sometimes.

And they definitely weren’t friends.

So when she shows up unannounced at two o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday night, tossing tiny rocks up against his window, he doesn’t understand why.

He whispers down a series of questions at her, too shocked to understand what was going on.

What is she doing there? (She needs somewhere to stay for a few hours.)

Why? (Just because.)

How did she find his house? (School directory.)

Why did she come here? (It’s cold. Please.)

Later, he tells her she’s lucky his parent’s bedroom has windows that face the opposite direction of the house, meaning that they aren’t privy to their first conversation. But he shares a wall with Rosalie, he whispers to her as he leads her up the stairs, so she has to be quiet, he emphasizes the point with a look, as if doubting such a task is within her abilities.

Thankfully, it is possible for Alice Brandon to be quiet.

In fact, she doesn’t say anything that first night after he sneaks her up to his room and lets her curl up with an extra blanket on the floor beside his bed. Jasper isn’t even sure she’s slept; she’d been awake when he’d crawled back into bed, and then still awake when he’d awoken extra early the next morning. And when he explains that he can’t just drive her to school that day without getting in trouble—besides, Rosalie will have a fit (for more reason than one) if he emerges from his bedroom with Alice Brandon behind him—she only nods, asks for a drink of water, and thanks him as she sneaks out the front door, off back toward her house, he assumes.

Lunch that day is the same as any other. Alice’s bright smile greets him and Peter, her voice filling the space where comfortable silence and companionable conversation used to linger, and that’s when he starts paying attention.

To the fact that she rarely, if ever, eats anything. That her clothes, while layered strangely and often mis-matched, barely fit her small frame.

One day, a week after her first appearance at his house, Jasper is walking through the halls when he overhears Lauren Mallory loudly exclaim “God, do you know how to shut the fuck up?” Only to turn and watch Alice’s smile deflate.

He stops in his tracks at the sight because no ones comments have ever affected Alice like this. At least, as far as he’s seen. He even wonders if he should step in and say something, because Lauren isn’t finished with airing her frustrations at the tiny new girl, and each statement is growing more cruel than the last.

Before he can force his feet to move Bella Swan is already there, all stern words and deadly glances as she wraps an arm around the smaller girl and turns her away. Jasper can’t hear what she says but Lauren looks incensed and none of her friends are chiming in to help. And then Bella quickly whisks Alice away and Jasper realizes he’s still standing there, in the middle of the hallway, staring at their retreating forms.

He skips lunch that day, feeling like a coward for forcing shy, introverted Bella of all people to come to the harmless girl’s rescue, while he stood there, watching the scene alongside half a dozen others who happened to overhear the platinum blonde girl’s tirade.

Alice comes to him again that night, another handful of pebbles tossed to his window, but this time she doesn’t speak even when he does lean out his window to ask her questions.

What happened?

Is she alright?

Does she need a place to stay?

She nods at that question, and it’s all the reply Jasper needs before he’s closing the window and tiptoeing down the stairs, guilt and worry dancing around inside his brain.

But Alice is quiet as a mouse as he leads her up into his room. She quickly occupies the same spot on the floor next to Jasper’s bed. Like before, she has brought only a small backpack with her. Whether she owns a phone or not doesn’t occur to him—he’s never seen her use one before, even at lunch—but she never once retrieves anything from the bag.

With the pillow and blanket Jasper tosses her way, she’s curled up and asleep in minutes. This time, it’s Jasper who doesn’t sleep as he lays awake, his attention torn between this small schoolmate of his and his guilty conscience that makes him wonder if today would have gone differently if he’d come to her aid.

But morning comes, Alice leaves, and then when he sees her at school later she’s good as new. Talking and laughing and dancing through the halls like always.

He contemplates telling Peter about Alice’s visits, but something holds him back from doing it. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like Alice whenever she’s lying on his bedroom floor, curled in an old blanket that’s too small for him but perfectly sized for her, utterly still and silent even while awake. A part of him feels like it would be a betrayal to reveal this side of her to someone even as close to him as Peter is.

After all, Peter is his friend. And Alice is… well, not.

It’s something he wishes he could tell Rosalie about. He loves his sister more than anyone else in this world but she’s too… involved in everything. He knows that she second she finds out it will mean the end of his privacy for the foreseeable future. It doesn’t help that he isn’t entirely sure that Rosalie won’t also say something rude to Alice. Nothing as cruel as Lauren Mallory’s blow-up, but still. Rosalie isn’t typically known for her warmth and consideration when it comes to outsiders…

It’s the night she shows up to his house for the third time, when things begin to change.

Her purple hoodie is pulled up tight over her head when he opens the window to get a good look at her. The material is certainly too thin for the weather she’s out in, but Jasper’s never seen her in anything warmer.

Alice tilts her head up toward him, and when his eyes fall upon her split lip, he doesn’t ask a single question. He almost slams the window shut and moves so fast down the stairs that he knows if he isn’t careful he’ll wake Rosalie and their parents.

She’s waiting on his doorstep when he finally swings the door open, ushering her into the house quickly and quietly.

The instant his bedroom door is closed he flicks his standing fan on it’s highest setting and pushes it close to the door. He’s going to need the white noise to drown out any noise their conversation makes. And he’s going to need her to talk tonight.

“Alice,” his voice is barely more than a whisper, but she ignores him. “Hey, Alice.” And when he ducks down to look her in her eyes, she averts her gaze. “What happened?” His head is swimming with thoughts and ideas and worst-case-scenarios, and as he looks at her face—the split lip, her bleeding cheek, and her swollen eye—he feels worry and fury at war within himself.

These are no ‘accidental’ injuries. Jasper knows with a sinking feeling that running into a doorframe, or tripping on the stairs, didn’t cause this injury.

(His mind is filled with images of the night Rose came home looking similar, and the rage that ignites in his body is hard to reason with.)

“Who did this?” Jasper’s words are slow and careful, but they are not quiet and he doesn’t know if he can be anymore. But Alice doesn’t reply, instead looking anywhere but him, as if she’s embarrassed or ashamed of herself.

But she came here, a voice in his head reminds him. And he doesn’t know if she’s aware of the weight of that—of this trust she apparently has in him—but he is.

He asks her to sit on his bed and then sneaks off to the bathroom in the hall, and then while Alice cleans blood off of her face with a damp rag he tiptoes downstairs to grab an ice pack from the freezer. When he returns she’s already pulled the spare blanket tight around her shoulders, and is lying on the ground.

“Alice,” he says softly, his chest aching at the sight of her, curled up so small on the ground, hurt and quiet. “Get up, I’ve got ice for your face.”

But Alice doesn’t movie, so he’s forced on the ground beside her. It’s when he places a tentative on her shoulder that he realizes she’s shaking with silent sobs. She only curls up tighter at his touch, and Jasper withdraws his hands immediately. He has the thought that maybe he should wake Rosalie, and let her come help. Surely, and despite all of his sister’s prickliness, Rose is better suited for a task like this. Jasper has never been good at comforting people with his words.

“Alice,” he doesn’t know what to say, and has less of an idea of what to do. But eventually she rolls over to face him and reaches out for the ice pack wordlessly. He hands it over and watches, speechless, as she simply presses the ice to her cheek, still not looking up at him.

“Will you tell me what happened?” He asks, feeling as if he already knows the answer, and when she shakes her head and closes her eyes tighter, the pain in Jasper’s chest throbs. “Okay,” he says, because no matter how badly he wants to know, he knows that her showing up here is significant. That there is trust here, despite the fact that Jasper hardly understands why. But it’s trust that seems so fragile that he’s terrified of shattering it if he pushes too hard.

By five o’clock she’s up and moving, and Jasper—who hadn’t slept a wink, instead choosing to lie awake and watch Alice, to make sure she was still breathing as she slept—is requesting that she stay. He offers to play hooky and encourages her to do the same.

She contemplates the offer before nodding to herself. But she leaves anyways, accepting a new ice pack on the way out of the door. She’s gone seconds before his dad is padding through the kitchen, ready to turn on the coffee maker, and Jasper’s heart is palpitating because he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re up awfully early,” the man grumbles as Jasper wanders into the kitchen. Joseph Hale is a quiet man. A good father, despite how rarely he’s at home due to work. They aren’t alike in many ways other than disposition, but Jasper always enjoys when his father is around. During his absences, his mother often disappears for days at a time, only appearing to change clothes, or argue with Rosalie. With Joseph around Jasper can almost pretend they are a normal, happy family.

His father’s words rip him out of his reverie. “By god… what happened to you?”

Jasper blinks up at his dad before realizing he’s holding the bloody rag Alice used to clean up her face. He blanches at the sight, forgetting he’d even been holding it, and then just shrugs. “Woke up with a nosebleed.”

Joseph shakes his head, frowning as he gestures to the towel. “Your mom’s going to have a fit that you used one of her good towels.”

“I’ll clean it before school.”

Joseph hums, already moving on from this conversation to dig through the cabinets for a bowl for his breakfast. “There should be peroxide under the sink.”

Jasper spends twenty minutes dousing the hand towel with hydrogen peroxide in an attempt to clean Alice’s blood out of the fabric. And by the time the stain is just a faded brown against the cream-colored towel, he can hear Rosalie’s alarm going off.

The drive to school that morning is tense, and the hours leading up to lunch pass by in a blur. Jasper’s mind isn’t focusing on anything, and when Mrs. Chapel calls on him in math class he realizes he hasn’t even pulled his textbook from his backpack.

When lunch rolls around it’s clear to him, as he walks into the cafeteria with a mixture of relief and disappointment, that Alice isn’t there today. He isn’t the only one who has noticed her absence, and as he’s passing through the cafeteria he hears one of Lauren Mallory’s friends make a loud remark.

“Looks like the clown got stuck back at the circus today,” Carson Keys declares loudly enough for Jasper to hear him, three tables away. He turns to look at the dark-haired jackass, knowing that these are the comments they usually reserve for Alice’s eavesdropping ears. But Alice isn’t here today, and Jasper knows why.

And Jasper also knows that there’s a reason he’s never been the victim of any bullying at this school. Despite his misanthropic nature, he isn’t a very easy target. Maybe it’s because he’s one of the taller ones in the school, or maybe its the rumor that circulated last year when he was a sophomore, that he’d killed a senior for messing around with his sister.

But despite the very thorough beating he’d been given, Royce King was still very much alive, despite his swift disappearance from both the school district and social media. The King family had wanted to quiet the ‘incident’ as quickly as they could and had quietly moved somewhere East of Seattle.

The days spent in juvenile court and subsequent six months of house arrest had been worth it, in Jasper’s eyes.

It doesn’t bother Jasper one bit that many of the students are convinced Jasper has killed someone. Anything that keeps people away from him, and prevents others from harming Rose any further, is worth it in his eyes.

Jasper watches as Carson’s joke causes their table to erupt in giggles and head-shakes. Before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to the table, a twinge of fury forcing his feet forward.

He goes unnoticed until he picks up one of their textbooks and drops it from shoulder-level. The noise makes a sharp clap that causes the surrounding table to flinch and turn towards the source. Silence seizes most of his classmates as their eyes turn to bore into his form, and Jasper is almost thankful for this awful, unwanted attention. Their unease will certainly make this more effective.

Carson realizes it’s Jasper Hale standing beside him a few seconds after his friends are quiet and staring, and the grin slips off his face so fast it’s almost comical. “Hey Hale,” he says stupidly, and Jasper can almost feel the regret filling the air. “What’s up?”

Jasper doesn’t speak at first, and for a second he wonders if maybe he does have some sort of anger issue like his lawyer suggested, because watching Carson squirm in his seat while his other tough-talking friends are suddenly suspiciously quiet is very, very enjoyable.

He doesn’t issue any threatening quips or waste time with a joke of his own. No, instead Jasper leans in close, forcing Carson to back up a few inches, his eyes wide. “Say it again. Go on.”

Carson of course, doesn’t. Instead looking to his friends for help. It’s Whitney Barnes who chimes in first.

“It’s just a joke,” she says nastily, rolling her eyes at Jasper’s presence as she moves her attention to her phone, lying on the table. “It’s not a big deal.”

Whitney’s dismissal of Jasper’s actions seems to encourage Carson again. He pulls a grin back on his face, “We mean no harm, bro. Mary-Alice is a fun little thing.” He looks back to Jasper but something in his expression makes his smile fall again. “No harm, man,” he’s backpedaling again, lifting his hands up in front of him, as if to claim he doesn’t want any trouble.

It’s only Rosalie’s appearance at his side that keeps him from doing anything he regrets.

He can tell its her immediately by the way she grips the side of his shirt, bunching up the material in his fist and tugging twice. (Something she has done for as long as he can remember.) “C’mon,” her voice is quiet but annoyed. “Old man Bakers is watching.” She speaks, referring to the assistant principal that roams the halls during the student’s ‘free’ periods.

Carson’s face brightens at the appearance of his sister, but before he can open his mouth to say anything mindless, she chimes in. “I don’t want to hear it. Just keep your mouth shut.”

“But I—”

“No. Stop. I have a test next and I’m losing braincells. Shut up.” Rosalie is already walking away, Jasper’s shirt still gripped tightly as she leads him back the way he came. “You too, Miss Perpetual-Understudy.” Rosalie calls over her shoulder to Whitney, hitting the girl where it hurts. Always a very Rosalie thing to do; to say as little as possible while inflicting the most damage she can.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it,” she grits through her teeth once they’re out of earshot. “If you start a fight at school they’ll slap that ankle monitor back on you before Carson’s dumb face will hit the linoleum.”

It’s an amusing thing to imagine, but he doesn’t want to irritate Rosalie any further, so he just shrugs noncommittally.

“What’s that all about anyways?” She demands as she drags him to her table. It’s still mostly-empty, thankfully. Only Emmett is there yet, and a couple other members of the football team that are nice enough. He likes Emmett for the most part. Most of the guys in school had been afraid of Jasper, and too terrified to get anywhere near Rosalie after last year’s incident. Emmett, on the other hand, had cornered Jasper the day he’d been allowed back at school and thanked him for doing what he didn’t get the chance to.

Jasper tries not to have to many opinions on his sister’s dating life now, but some days he thinks that Emmett wouldn’t be the worst choice if Rosalie decides to reciprocate the big guy’s obvious feelings.

“Nothing,” he speaks quietly as Rose sits in her seat. He knows that she wants him to sit with her and fill her in, but Jasper has never been comfortable around her friends. And he isn’t about to entertain their companionship on today of all days; he’s far too wound up.

“I heard Carson say something rude about that Alice girl,” the boy next to Emmett, whose name Jasper doesn’t know, chimes in. “Loud as shit, of course. But I didn’t hear much else,” he looks up at Jasper and shrugs. “You gotta do what you gotta do man. I would fully support your decision if you clocked him. Morally support, I mean. I can’t physically or I’ll lose my scholarship to UW.”

“No one is getting ‘clocked’,” Rosalie shoots the guy a glare before turning to Jasper and tugging on his shirt again. “Also, if you tried intimidating every person who’s been mean to Alice you’re going to have a long list.” She tugs on his shirt a third time, “sit.”

As Jasper settles into the seat beside his sister, absolutely dreading the next half hour, Emmett chimes in. “She’s a funny girl,” the curly-haired guys speaks, taking an enormous bite of his sandwich, “she told me she’d make me a bracelet the other day because I told her I liked her hair.” The boy next to him snorts and Emmett laughs, “What?” He speaks, mouth full, “like I’m going to say no to a free bracelet?! You’re out of your damn mind.”

“She’s friendly alright,” Rose speaks, turning her gaze back to Jasper. “Don’t know why she likes your prickly ass.”

“I’m not prickly,” Jasper deadpans, accepting the bag of chips Rose shoves into his hands.

Emmett laughs at that one. “Because you’re so warm and cuddly.”

“Em, hush.”

“I’m just playing around. But seriously. I like her. She’s fun.” He takes a sip of soda and fixes Jasper with another look. “Besides, I don’t think she has an easy time of it. My little sister is in her sister Cynthia’s class down at the grade school,” Jasper’s attention perks up at that. Alice has a sister? “According to Jennie, some accident that killed their mom messed Alice’s head up. I think it was a car accident. I’m not sure. It’s really sad though.”

A few members of the table nod at that, a morose feeling falling over them as more of Rosalie’s friends arrive, and then when Daniel Langfield starts telling the story of his uncle’s life-claiming car wreck, Jasper feels his mind wander.

He supposes that’s the day he halfway ‘befriends’ Alice Brandon.

Of course it would be the day she’s not even at school.

If anything he feels less like a friend and more like a protector. Or a guard dog. Like someone willing to do what it takes to keep people off her fucking back, and out of her goddamned business.

Later that night, before he climbs into bed, he rips a piece of notebook paper out of his binder and scribbles a small message on it.

I’m here if you want to talk about it.

He doesn’t see her the following morning, but he slips the note into her locker anyways. It isn’t until he’s walking to his first period class when he realizes he never signed the paper, and up until lunch he kicks himself, feeling much like a weirdo or a creep for delivering such a cryptic, out-of-context note.

But Alice is already waiting for him by the doors of the cafeteria when he finally sees her for the first time that day. She grins up at him, like she always does at school, big and wide, and Jasper is nearly stunned by the fact that she looks completely fine.

Whatever makeup she’s painted her face with that day has made her look entirely normal. But when she chatters at him, walking at his side as they wander across the cafeteria, he notices that her left eye is still a bit swollen, and blinks a bit slower than her right. Her expertly applied lipstick has nearly hidden her fat lip completely.

Peter isn’t there that day. He’d had a dentist appointment and left during the last period, so it’s only them today.

He knows that no one is listening in; if anything, the students of Forks’ High have begun practicing the art of tuning out Alice Brandon’s voice, but he still keeps his voice low when he asks her how she is.

“I’m fine,” she smiles up at him, before she opens her sketchbook and asks him for his input on her current art project.

“Did you get my note?”

She pauses then, smiling down at the still-life on the paper in front of her. Then, she reaches out and grabs the top of his hand, squeezing tightly before releasing it. She doesn’t so much as glance at him while she does this, and in seconds she’s already back to discussing her day.

Jasper knows that he isn’t going to get anything out of her today, and instead he pays attention to her every movement, and every quirk, watching her closely as she explains her current portrait and pulls out colored pencils, slowly working while she prattles on about some anecdote from gym class.

And with each day that passes he finds himself more curious about her. She doesn’t reveal anything during the school day, instead using their lunch period to talk and hum and laugh. He sits at her side, forgoing his music or books to simply watch and listen to her. But as the days pass, her face heals, and Alice reveals nothing.

He knows its only a matter of time before she shows up in his yard at night.

But the next time it happens, he has some warning.

Alice isn’t in school for four days. He hasn’t heard anything from the other students, and why would he? He’s the one she spends most of her time around anyways. If anything, the other students probably assume he knows whether she’s sick or not. By Thursday, even Peter asks him if he knows where she is. Jasper hates how he feels when he wordlessly shakes his head, anxiously picking the bread off the burger in front of him.

It’s Friday when Bella Swan approaches him in the parking lot while he waits for Rosalie. She startles him at first; he’d been sitting in his car listening to music when she tapped on the window. And when he turns the music down and lowers the window, she swiftly apologizes. He just barely takes note of Edward standing a few feet away.

“You haven’t heard from Alice, have you?”

Jasper shakes his head. “No.” He says simply, and then, “I don’t have her number.”

Bella frowns. “She doesn’t have a phone,” she explains, “I’m just…” she straightens back up, folding her arms and she turns back toward Edward. The redhead nods and Bella turns back toward Jasper. “I’m really, really worried.”

“Why?” Jasper shuts the car off then. Something in Bella’s expression causes alarms to go off in his mind, and he’s climbing back out of the old sedan before he can help it. “What makes you say that?”

Bella looks back at Edward again, and the redhead sighs and approaches. “You didn’t hear this from me,” he speaks quietly, looking around to make sure no one overhears. “My dad asked me last night whether I was friends with Alice. And I didn’t even know that he knew who that was. I…” he looked a bit embarrassed then, “I sort of weaseled a little bit of information out of him. But I think something happened to her that put her in the hospital. My dad didn’t say much but, you know how adults get when they want you to befriend someone else or ‘keep an eye’ on them or whatever? It was really weird and… kind of telling.”

“Do you know anything?” Bella asks, and her voice is so pleading, her face filled with so much worry that eventually he starts talking. He tells them about her first visit, and then about her second. And he’s rambling by the time he gets to her third, and most recent visit. It isn’t until he’s talking about her bloodied face and the fact that she cried as quietly as she could, curled up on the floor of his bedroom, when a voice chimes in.

“So that’s where Mom’s good towel went.”

His blood freezes in his veins when he realizes that Rosalie has snuck up behind them, unnoticed. Emmett McCarty is standing behind her, looking nervous at the fact that they have just overheard Jasper’s hurried confession.

Bella looks nervous at their intrusion, and Edward’s face is stern. Rosalie is glaring daggers at her brother, and it’s Emmett that chimes in eventually.

“What can we do?”

When their eyes all drift to Jasper, he feels as if his chest is about to cave in on itself. He doesn’t know how to tell them that he doesn’t know what to do. “Bella says she doesn’t have a phone.”

“Can’t we pull up to her house? Check on her at least?” The concern scrawled across Emmett’s features make him look far less menacing than he usually comes off as—he’s the only one in the Junior class taller than Jasper.

“That’s the last thing we should do,” Rosalie snaps, her words quiet. “The second you try to white-knight your way into whatever situation she’s dealing with, you’ll immediately make it ten times worse for her.” Rose speaks her words with the confidence of someone who truly knows what Alice’s situation is like, and it shuts everyone else up immediately.

There’s silence, then, Edward speaks. “We still don’t know what she’s dealing with. Let’s not assume.”

Rosalie glares at him then. “If your dad was dealing with her at the fucking emergency room, it wasn’t just a check up or a misunderstanding. Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’ll talk to Jennie when I get home,” Emmett offers, referring to his little sister who is classmates with Alice’s sister. “See if Cynthia has said anything at school.”

Bella nods, “Kids see and hear a lot more than people give them credit for.”

Rosalie speaks only to Jasper. “If she comes to you again, that’s a good thing. I can help cover your ass if you need it, but if you push her too much you will drive her away. Whatever you do, don’t go getting yourself arrested again, or I’ll beat you to a pulp.” Then, to everyone else, “If you really want to help her, give her space and mind your business. She’ll either come around, or she won’t. You can’t force it.” She climbs into the passenger seat, “Let’s go, Jasper.”

The drive home is quiet, and painfully awkward. Jasper keeps waiting for Rosalie to snap at him, or for her attitude to catch up, but when she reaches out and grabs a fistful of his shirt, holding it in her hand, he understands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough,” she speaks as he turns into their neighborhood, approaching the house. “I wish I had asked for help before it was too late. But,” there’s another patch of silence as he parks in the driveway before she speaks again, “Alice is trusting you with whatever is happening. Don’t take that for granted, and don’t fuck it up. She’ll decide what you can do to help her at her own pace.” Opening the door to the car she stands up as she gathers her things. “Don’t go trying to fuck your life up again. Please.” Then, she slams it and walks toward the house.

Alice doesn’t visit that night, but on Saturday night he’s restless. He picks up his phone and re-reads that day’s text messages. He’s comforted knowing that he isn’t the only person who has been plagued with worry over Alice that day. Bella confesses that she name dropped Alice in conversation with her father—the chief of police—who also pulled something akin to Edward’s dad, requesting his daughter to be nice to the girl and perhaps invite her over sometime.

It is confirmation enough that whatever is happening to Alice was known by both hospital workers and police. This information is enough for Jasper’s concern to turn into something far more nauseating. He’s not even comforted by the involvement of people outside of Alice’s situation, because if what was happening to her was severe enough for the police chief and Doctor Carlisle Cullen to be involved, it wasn’t good.

He’s up late, re-reading Emmett’s most recent texts, explaining that Jennie didn’t see Cynthia on Thursday or Friday, when the first rock knocks against his window.

He doesn’t even rush over to it, instead flinging his bedroom door open and zooming down the stairs as quick as possible—he’s never been so happy for his father to be on a work trip and for his mother to be off and absent once more than he is when he barges through the front door and runs to the side of the house.

The sight of Alice standing beneath his window, preparing to fling another pebble, her face wincing in pain, is both a relief as well as a worry.

She jumps at his sudden appearance, stumbling back as fear flickers across her face. It only takes her a second to realize who is rushing toward her, but by the time recognition calms her, Jasper has already slowed himself.

She’s wearing her purple hoodie again, and her face is black and blue. She reaches up to pull her hood tighter around her face and that’s when Jasper takes note of the pink cast encasing her forearm.

“Alice,” he breathes, approaching slower as he reaches out to her. Thankfully she doesn’t recoil from him and instead walks directly toward him. When she wraps her arms around him, Jasper doesn’t hesitate to hold her close. With her embrace he feels all the tension slowly seep out of him, and it’s when he feels her shivering that he steps back, keeping an arm over her shoulders as he guides her toward the house.

She’s as quiet as she typically is during all of her visits, so Jasper decides to fill the silence instead.

He talks at her mostly, prompting input here and there, but Alice is content to sit quietly on his bed as he rifles through his closet. He eventually finds a winter coat that stopped fitting him before high school and tosses it on the bed beside her. He tells her that it belongs to her now and that he wants to see her wearing it next time she decides to make the trek to his house at night.

He asks her how far she lives, and even when she doesn’t reply he informs her that he has a car, and can pick her up at a moment’s notice if she ever needs him to. He also asks about her phone situation, knowing that she doesn’t have access to a cell phone, but that if she has access to a computer, his phone dings when he gets an email. He can put her email in his contacts so that it rings loudly any time she sends a message his way.

He offers her food, and even when she doesn’t accept (or decline) he disappears for a few minutes, returning with some reheated pizza and a couple of glasses of water.

She accepts the water with a smile, and seeing the light in her eyes, despite how battered her face looks, does something strange to Jasper’s chest.

It’s when he asks her if she’s tired that she finally gives him a response, shaking her head.

“In that case,” he walks over to his desk, unplugging his laptop and carrying it over to the bed, depositing it in front of her. “We can watch a movie.”

He sneaks back into the hallway, and is rifling through the hall closet, retrieving extra pillows and blankets, when Rosalie’s door opens and he freezes, turning toward her with a look akin to a deer caught in headlights.

“Here,” his sister whispers as she tosses something his way, “she can keep these.” Before they can fall to the ground Jasper plucks the cotton pajamas out of the air, nodding toward his sister. With her voice low she then tacks on a threat, “and don’t eat all the pizza. I was saving some for lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles at her as she closes the door softly behind her, trying to decide whether its best to lie to Alice about the blue pajamas or to just tell them they’re a gift from Rosalie.

In reality, he doesn’t need to say anything, because when he presents them to her she smiles up at him, softly thanking him before placing them on the bed beside her.

“I’m serious,” he remarks as he turns the laptop toward him, opening and starting it up. “They’re all yours. They were Rose’s in like, freshman year before she got her growth spurt.”

“I doubt they’ll fit,” Alice’s voice finally rings out clear, and Jasper counts that as a win.

Jasper smirks over at her as he logs into Peter’s Netflix account. “Trust me, I wasn’t the only one who grew nearly half a foot freshman year. The money we spent on clothes that year was a little excessive.”

Alice excuses herself to the hallway bathroom a minute after that, and when she returns, dressed more comfortably now, Jasper smiles. “My uh, parents aren’t home by the way, so you can stay as long as you need.”

She doesn’t reply, but she does climb back into his bed, and when she wraps the old blue blanket around her shoulders—a blanket that Jasper is beginning to view as hers—she scoots herself into the corner of his bed, resting her back against his headboard and pillows.

Jasper is careful to keep his distance as he settles himself beside her, but Alice is quick to scoot closer, and when he asks if she has any suggestions or requests, she simply shakes her head, smiling at the screen, her chin resting atop her knees.

She is asleep twenty minutes into the movie, her head knocking against his shoulder as her exhaustion wins out. Jasper remains still for a while after that, barely paying any attention to the random animated movie, afraid of waking the girl up. Eventually he moves her carefully so that she’s lying down more comfortably. Closing the laptop he moves to place it back on his desk when her hand shoots out, gripping his arm tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he speaks quietly, his heart breaking at the flash of desperation—of fear—in her suddenly-open eyes, depositing the laptop on the ground and climbing back into his bed. It feels strange, to lie down beside this girl that he knows hardly anything about, but when she wraps her good hand around his, Jasper turns toward her, wrapping his fingers tightly around hers, returning the gesture. She is asleep again within minutes.

Multiple times he attempts to remove himself from his own bed. After all, he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be staring at this girl as she sleeps, entirely unguarded, her face swollen from what could only be a beating, and for a while he lies there, frozen in both anger and helplessness.

Because Alice is good. A sweet girl with nothing but a smile to offer and friendship to give.

When he wakes up late the following morning, he doesn’t know why he feels sour at her absence. Deep down he knew she wouldn’t be still lying beside him, but in some far off part of his mind, he’d hoped for it.

It’s when he’s sitting up in bed, orienting himself with his surroundings when he hears familiar laughter echoing from Rosalie’s room.

He’s up and in the hallway in seconds.

Rosalie’s door is propped open, and inside of her bedroom there are people. It seems during the few extra hours Jasper stayed unconscious, his sister had invited over company.

Emmett is sitting completely still in the chair of Rosalie’s vanity, far too big for the tiny white furniture, and looking ridiculous as Rosalie leans forward, carefully applying makeup to his large face. Bella Swan stands at her side, holding Rosalie’s iPad in one hand, displaying a picture of whatever look his sister is trying to achieve on the face of Fork’s High’s star linebacker, and in her other hand are a slew of makeup brushes.

Edward is standing closest to the door, recording the entire debacle on his phone while Alice, who is lying across Rosalie’s bed, still clad in her blue pajamas is laughing and laughing and laughing.

It’s such a strange group of people, he realizes abruptly. Jasper is only acquainted with Bella and Edward through the far-off lunch table they all share, since it’s the only corner of the cafeteria that offers an escape from the rowdiness of their classmates. Emmett, of course, he knows through Rosalie, and has always been a friendly, funny guy, but Rosalie has always been careful about who she lets into her social circles. Especially now.

And last Jasper knew his sister couldn’t stand the pretentious red-head in the grade behind them. But if Jasper knows anything, it’s to never underestimate Rosalie Lillian Hale, and quickly he realizes that in the time between her handing off pajamas to him last night, and this morning, she’s carefully calculated this entire thing. From the guests to the activity.

Because the only thing everyone in this room has in common, is Alice.

When she notices him, she sits up, grinning widely at him. The yellowing bruises on her face stick out sorely against her skin that is pink and flushed from laughter, but when she beckons him inside of the room, drawing everyone’s attention from Emmett’s face to Jasper’s presence, he can’t help but smile back.

He carefully turns down the invitation to be ‘next’, and when Rosalie remarks that there are plenty of photos in tucked away albums of their older cousins putting Jasper in makeup and dresses when they were small, the entire room of teenagers look delighted at that information.

“Oh, please tell me you have that album handy,” Alice exclaims, gripping his hand fiercely as she bounces on Rosalie’s bed.

“Hell no.”

“I’ll show you some other time,” Rosalie comments dismissively as she holds Emmett’s jaw tight in her hand. “Now, do we want to go more pink or orange-ish…?”

And that’s how their Sunday begins.

Eventually they make their way from Rosalie’s room into the living room and then soon they’re piling into Jasper’s and Emmett’s cars, after Bella’s stomach had rumbled and Emmett declared that it was time for food. Of course, he took every ounce of makeup off before they left, and Alice changed back into the clothes she’d arrived in the night before.

The day passes so quickly and it’s so fun that Jasper hardly realizes how much he’s enjoying himself until the sun is nearly down and they’re hanging out in the parking lot of the bowling alley they just played in. But Bella has a late shift at Newton’s and Emmett needs to take them back to his car, which is at Rosalie and Jasper’s house. Then Rose declares that she has a paper to finish tonight and suddenly the day is spiraling to a close.

“I’ll see you at home,” she nods at him as she climbs into the passenger seat of Emmett’s Jeep. He simply nods, waving at them as they pull away.

And then it’s just him and Alice left.

He turns toward her after Emmett’s car disappears into the night, only to see her staring after the Jeep, a deep-set frown in her face.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, because he knows it has to be her decision now.

She steps up next to him and grabs his hand tightly, and that’s when Jasper feels her shaking again. He knows it’s not because of the cold; she’s finally wearing the jacket he’d given her the night before. But she’s shaking now and he doesn’t know what to do other than pull her against his side and hold her close.

“We can go back to my house,” he offers firmly, but quietly, as she nestles closely against him, her face pressed into his own coat. “You can stay as long as you want. I mean it.”

She shakes her head after a long moment. “I have to go home.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

She doesn’t answer his question.

Turn by turn directions are all she has to provide for him; she’s still so new to the town that even despite how small it is she only knows her way around when they’re close to the school. So he loops back toward Fork’s High and then Alice begins directing him from there.

They’re only a few streets away—surprisingly close to his house—when she grabs his hand suddenly. “Stop the car.”

Jasper slows the car down to a crawl, pulling it over to the side of the road. He doesn’t see anything that would cause her to erupt in fear like that; they’re still several yards from the next turn, bringing them toward where Alice said her house was.

“Here is fine,” she says in a hurry, unbuckling herself swiftly. When she starts to remove his jacket he reaches out and grabs her arm.

“Alice, that’s for you. Keep it, please.”

“I can’t,” she says desperately as she shimmies her arms out of the sleeves. It takes her a while to yank her left arm, cast and all, out of the jacket, but when she pushes it unceremoniously into his arms, he’s so confused. “Please, understand.”

“I don’t,” he says honestly, a little hurt by her actions, “that’s… that’s fine. Just—” he frowns, “how do you usually get to school? The bus?”

She shakes her head as she lifts her small bag up and throws it over her shoulder. “I walk. It’s fine, I’ll see you in school this week.”

He reaches out again, careful not to grab her broken wrist, and his hand lands softly on her shoulder. “Not tomorrow?”

Alice is anxious now, her eyes looking for something out in the dark, and Jasper hates this. Hates that she comes to him at night but doesn’t let him help. Hates that she does so much talking, but doesn’t reveal anything. Hates that he can’t fix whatever is wrong.

“I’m worried about you,” he eventually says when she flings the door open and moves to depart.

The look she fixes him with then is stern, and Jasper worries that he’s said something wrong.

Alice leans back into the car, and with her good hand she reaches toward him, cupping his cheek warmly, and stunning him into silence. He’s frozen for a few seconds, watching her every move cautiously, and when she smiles up at him, soft and beautiful, any other words he was thinking are suddenly wiped clear.

“Don’t.” And she’s gone in seconds, running off into the dark faster than he can keep up with his eyes.

He doesn’t go directly home afterward. Instead he drives around for a little while. Alice wouldn’t give him her address, and he’s almost nervous to accidentally stumble across her house now, so he steers clear of the residential streets. He’s halfway to La Push when he realizes he needs to go back home, because Rose will be waiting for him.

Rose and Emmett are waiting for him when he returns. It’s something that sort of surprises him, because as far as he knows, his sister has sworn off dating. Not that the two appear to be an item. But again: it’s not a secret that Emmett McCarty loves his sister.

When he walks through the door they’re in the kitchen, and their conversation dies when they note his presence.

“How’d it go?” Emmett asks, frowning from where he sits at the kitchen table across from Rosalie.

Jasper shrugs, turning to walk toward the stairs.

“Jasper,” his sister calls, standing up from the table. “Did something happen?”

“No,” he finally speaks. And it’s true. Nothing happened. No progress in their ‘friendship’. No discoveries on his part. Instead the status quo remains very much unchanged. He still doesn’t know how to help Alice, and she is still unwilling to let him in.

It’s when Rosalie takes note of the small jacket under Jasper’s arm when she finally closes her mouth and nods, turning back to sit back at the table, looking strangely defeated.

He doesn’t sleep well that night, or the next.

The rumors start circulating quickly then. It seems that some senior was at the bowling alley with their parents on the same day they’d taken Alice out on her outing. Word quickly got around that the tiny girl looked like she’d been in a boxing match, bruised and broken and still missing from school.

The worst of the rumors made their way back to him through Edward. Some group of kids in the freshman class were apparently under the impression that her absence and physical state were due to Jasper’s actions. Of course, it is a widely-known fact now that Jasper has a ‘reputation for violence’; whether it’s misplaced or not isn’t for Jasper to decide. But that rumor makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It becomes so bad that, with his dad still away on work and his mom god-knows-where, Jasper stays home from school on Thursday. Rosalie doesn’t even attempt to rouse him out of bed, just accepting his keys and telling him she’ll see him after school.

It’s around noon that he forces himself out of his bedroom. He doesn’t have an appetite so he simply shrugs on his coat, pulls on his boots, and goes for a walk.

He wanders through the neighborhood for a while, down one street, up another, until he finds himself wandering through Tillicum Park. He used to come here more often when he was younger. It was the one place his parents would let him and Rosalie wander off to on their own. And then when he was in middle school a man in a van had pulled up beside some of his classmates and he and Rose had been forbidden from walking there alone after that.

It has been several years since he’s sat on the swings here. And as he wanders toward where he knows the play equipment is, he finds himself freezing in his tracks.

Because there is a little girl sitting by herself on the swings.

He looks around then, but it’s barely one o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, and this girl can’t be any older than seven or eight. He contemplates moving on with his walk—after all, it was barely a decade ago when his mother would shoo him and Rose out the door and off to the park—but something forces him to approach the child.

He doesn’t want to scare the girl, so he gives her a wide berth as he loops around to the front of the swings, approaching from where the kid can see him. And when she looks up at him, Jasper hates that her terrified expression is vaguely familiar to him…

But when she the fear disappears, relief is quick to take it’s place on her face. The girl smiles at him and releases her grip on one of the chains to wave at him. “Hi!” She exclaims, her legs dangling beneath her as the swing sways in the wind.

Jasper looks around then. “Hi there.” He doesn’t even see any cars parked in the lot across the way. “Are your parents around?”

She shakes her head as she starts pumping her little feet, and then she starts going higher and higher on the swing set. “No, my Mommy is dead,” she says matter-of-factly, and Jasper frowns at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says awkwardly, hands in his pockets as he keeps his eyes on the horizon, waiting for someone to come claim this child. Something in him tells him not to wander off. Sure, he doesn’t want to seem like a weirdo creep, talking to alone little girls, but he doesn’t want an actual one to come and snatch this girl up while she’s swinging here, all alone.

“S’okay,” she mumbles sadly as she swings back and forth. “I miss lots of people. And stuff. And my friends, too.”

“Is your dad around?”

“No,” she shakes her head, and a dark, angry look falls across her tiny features. “He’s at home being a jerk.”

“Are you supposed to be at home?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She kicks her legs angrily as she talks, “Not allowed to be at home. And I don’t wanna go to school.”

“You don’t like school?”

She shakes her head, still pouting as she swings back, and forth. “I told the teachers Daddy was being mean and then I got in trouble. And I told them not to say nothing!”

That revelation didn’t sit well with him. “Being mean?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds, her feet ceasing motion as she thinks to herself. Then, she’s pushing and pulling her feet back and forth again. “I’m not supposed to say things to adults, so you should go to your job or something.”

“I don’t have a job,” he offered, “but I didn’t go to school today either.” He looks around once more. “Is there someone I can call to come get you? Someone that’s not your dad?”

The girl shakes her head. “Alice isn’t allowed to. Dad says she has to stay at home so we don’t get in trouble again.”

Jasper’s entire world shifts with those words. “Alice?” He steps closer. That’s when he notices the little girls arms, full of brightly-colored beads, homemade bracelets that Jasper suddenly recognizes. “Is Alice your sister?”

The child nods, and when she pouts again Jasper suddenly realizes why this girl looks so familiar.

There’s a memory somewhere in his mind where Emmett revealed this little girl’s name, but that particular piece of information is out of his reach. “My name is Jasper. What’s yours?”

And then she says, “Cynthia Brandon” confirming his suspicions.

“Is Alice in trouble?” He begins to approach Cynthia then, but then stops and hesitates. Then, he walks to a swing several feet away and sits down on it. “I’m friends with Alice. We go to school together.” He digs around in his pockets then, knowing that he never had the nerve to actually attach it to his key ring, but when Alice had handed him a hand-made keychain a couple of weeks ago, he’d stuffed it into one of his jacket’s many pockets and forgotten about it. He finally wraps his fingers around the beaded thing and sighs in relief. “She made me this.”

The girl leans toward him, frowning as she studies the keychain he holds out toward her. “No,” she shakes her head, “I made that. Alice just takes them to school for her friends. But I definitely made that.” She sounds put-out by the idea that her big sister is stealing all the credit, and Jasper quickly backpedals.

“Oh, it’s very nice. Alice did give it to me though.”

“I know,” and then she’s smiling again as she kicks her feet. “When Daddy gets mad Alice puts me on her bed and lets me listen to all the music and make as many bracelets and keychains as I want while she talks to Daddy.”

“Does…” Jasper hesitates, “Is Alice alright? I’m very worried about her.”

“I’m not allowed to talk to people about what Daddy does.”

Jasper’s frown intensifies. “Because you’ll get in trouble?”

When Cynthia nods Jasper has to bite back a swear. He doesn’t know what to do now. It’s clear that something sinister is at play here, but with a little girl too afraid to say anything, and with Alice also refusing to give any hints as to what happens to her behind closed doors, Jasper is left lost.

But when his phone buzzes in his pocket, an idea strikes him. Retrieving it from his pocket he ignores the random email notification and, as quickly as he can, he types a message to Bella, placing as much urgency in his words as he can in a short text.

He stays there, sitting with Cynthia, chatting idly with the girl about her favorite way to braid and design her tiny pieces of ‘jewelry’, when Chief Swan’s police cruiser pulls up, parking in the lot behind them without the little girl noticing.

“Are you hungry?” Jasper eventually asks the girl, turning his head and nodding toward Bella’s dad when the man begins to approach, a random deputy at his side. “If I got you some food, would you eat it?”

“I’m always hungry,” she whines. “Alice was supposed to go to the market yesterday but then Daddy—” she slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide when she realizes that two policemen are approaching. “Oh, no,” she hops off the swings and scurries closer to Jasper. “Please tell them to go away,” she says in a whisper loud enough for the two cops to overhear.

“Hi Cynthia,” Charlie Swan smiles over at the girl, “how are you today, sweetheart?”

“Going home,” she declares loudly, reaching out and grabbing Jasper’s hand, quickly pulling him after her. “I’m going home now mister police man! Thank you! Goodbye!”

Jasper takes a few steps after the desperate little girl, turning to look at Chief Swan with a confused gaze. ‘What do I do?’ He mouths as the girl begins to drag him toward town.

‘We’ll follow’, Chief Swan mouths back, nodding to where the little girl is heading. Then, he places a hand on his partner’s shoulder and they begin moving back toward where the squad car is parked.

The pizzeria Cynthia drags him into is one he used to frequent as a child. The amount of birthday parties he and Rosalie had attended in the establishment were most likely in the double digits. His grandfather had been best friends with the owner of the place, and for years Jasper and his friends had been allowed to bring their report cards to the restaurant every marking period. Each ‘A’ entitled the kids to one free slice of pizza.

He leads Cynthia into a booth, sitting her in the side facing away from the parking lot. And minutes later when he sees the squad car park at the opposite end of the lot, he pulls his phone out again and starts texting Bella again. Thankfully she’s quick to send him her father’s number and for the first time since his arrest over a year ago, Jasper is willingly talking to a police officer.

He half-focuses on Cynthia as he starts texting Chief Swan every bit of information he has. It isn’t until Marnie—a waitress who has been working at the restaurant for as long as Jasper has been alive—brings them their order, a small cheese pizza to share and two lemonades, that Jasper realizes he has more information than he realizes.

Marnie gives him a serious look, glancing between the cop car and the little girl, and Jasper has to subtly gesture to the older woman that she needs to be quiet. When Cynthia is distracted with emptying more sugar packets into her lemonade, Jasper flashes the woman his phone. When the woman sees ‘Charlie Swan’ on the top she frowns and then nods, before retreating back into the kitchen.

You have to check on her, Jasper emphasizes more than once in his text messages with the Chief of Police of their tiny town. You have to go over there and make sure she’s alright.

It’s nearly two hours later—and Cynthia is stuffed full of pizza, cookies, and one warm brownie sundae—when Chief Swan finally exits his vehicle and approaches the building. Jasper hasn’t heard anything from the man in over an hour, but he knows that they’ve sent a few of his people over to the Brandon residence to perform a wellness check.

Marnie and Steve—the owner’s son, and current manager of the establishment—cleared out the restaurant nearly an hour ago, so after the two policemen step through the door, Steve locks the door behind them and flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to read ‘CLOSED’.

“Hi Cynthia,” Charlie Swan speaks again, and Cynthia turns toward the door and lets out a pitiful whine. “It’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me that!” She shrieks before ducking beneath the booth and reappearing at Jasper’s side. “Go away! I’ll go home later! Leave me alone!”

Chief Swan leans down to eye level with the little girl, and when she grabs Jasper’s arm, hiding behind it, he doesn’t know what to do. “Well, Cynthia. I’m here to tell you that you aren’t going to be able to go home today. In fact, a good friend of mine is going to come by and talk to you, if that’s alright?”

“I want to go home,” Cynthia’s words began to wobble as tears begin to spring to the surface. “I want Alice. I want to go home.”

“Alice is getting some help right now,” and Chief Swan meets Jasper’s eyes quickly then, before looking away, “but when she feels better you’ll be able to see her, alright?”

“I wanna go home,” she cries, burying herself underneath Jasper’s discarded coat, where she continues to cry. “I wanna go home.”

It isn’t until Edward’s parents show up—somehow Jasper had forgotten all about the slew of foster siblings Edward had when they were young—and Esme Cullen spends a few minutes calmly talking to Cynthia, that the little girl appears more willing to go with them.

When Cynthia is packed away into some random car with a borrowed booster seat Jasper turns toward Chief Swan. “Please tell me she’s alright.”

The man nods, and Jasper feels his shoulders deflate, relief almost suffocating. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to say that if we’d waited another day or two to check, but their father is in custody and Alice is at the hospital.” The man fixes Jasper with a long look then. “I don’t know why, or how it is that I always find you at the center of these situations,” he remarks, somehow looking down his nose at Jasper, despite the fact he was a shorter man, “but you’re good man, Hale. Just make sure to talk to your parents about this.” He turned to walk away, “And thanks for not going rogue again this time.”

The underlying message was clear: ‘thanks for not trying to kill Mr. Brandon’.

When he walks through his front door an hour later, dragging himself up the stairs with heavy feet, he’s met with an avalanche of people suddenly. And when Rosalie’s arms are wrapped around his neck, he almost feels himself break down then.

“Tell us everything,” she mutters quickly against his neck, and that’s when Jasper realizes that Emmett, Edward, and Bella are all standing behind her on the stairs or in the hallway above.

He gets through the story slowly, starting with when he left the house and stopping when he realized that he was talking to Alice’s little sister.

“I’m so glad you texted me when you did,” Bella sighs. “I don’t usually have my phone on me during school, but it’s my Mom’s birthday, so I’ve been waiting on messages from her all day.”

“I knew something was up when Bella ditched English last period,” Edward comments from where he’s leaning back against Rosalie’s wall.

“Bella ditching class at all should be a red flag,” Rosalie remarks from her spot on her bed beside Jasper.

“Your parents have her sister, last I saw,” Jasper turns toward Edward as he speaks, as if hoping the younger boy could provide more information.

Edward nods. “They called a few minutes after I got here. They’re technically still registered as foster parents, so if they can’t get a hold of any other relatives in the area, I’m going to have some foster sisters soon,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal to him to have Alice and Cynthia moving in. And the idea of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen taking care of the pair of girls is enough for force Jasper to look away from everyone, afraid that he might start getting emotional again.

Jasper stays home from school again the next day, and Rosalie does, too. It doesn’t take long for news to travel through the town of Forks and Jasper knows that if he hears any disrespectful gossip at school, he’ll likely be disappointing Chief Swan much sooner than anticipated.

He tries to visit Alice at the hospital but since there’s an ongoing investigation they turn him away at the front desk.

Joseph Brandon eventually calls one of them—the school must’ve finally gotten a hold of him about their absences—and gets the full story from Rosalie, promising to be home within the day and giving them permission to use the emergency credit card to get a bouquet of flowers sent to Alice’s hospital room.

When Monday rolls around he doesn’t want to go to school, but his father and Rosalie force him out of bed and down the stairs. He’s sort of glad he’s pushed out the door that morning, because when he returns home that afternoon, Mom is back, which means he’s missed out on a huge fight, and he’s relieved that at least it happened while he and Rosalie were at school this time.

The news of the newcomers—John Edgar Brandon and his two daughters—is such hot gossip around town that when Jasper and Rosalie come home one day to their mother’s belongings packed away in a U-haul truck, and some strange man helping her pack, the news doesn’t even make it to his classmates. Because the story of Joseph Hale finally kicking his unfaithful wife to the curb is something that the people of this town have been waiting for him to do for years now.

But the story of the twice-widowed John Edgar Brandon being arrested for abuse, neglect, and suspected murder, easily trumps the news of any simple extra-marital affair. Jasper hates the relief he feels, knowing that his deadbeat mother isn’t going to be the talk of the town, and instead the fact that John Edgar beat his eldest daughter within an inch of her life, is.

He’s been back at school for a full week when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s nearly the end of the day; the bell is set to go off within minutes and he knows he won’t get a demerit if any teachers see him on his phone at this point on a Friday.

The first message is from Edward.

I told her not to go overboard. But he’s my apology in advance.

The second is from an unknown number.

hi jasper!!!!!!!!!!!!

He pockets the phone with a frown, staring back at the clock on the wall before realizing that his teacher is wrapped up in conversation with a few kids on the opposite side of the classroom. Trying not to be seen he ducks out of the classroom swiftly, pulling his phone out of his pocket to stare at the text message again.

It takes him two more seconds to realize who is texting him and before he can stop himself he’s pressing the ‘call’ button and rushing out the front doors as fast as he can. As he listens to the phone ring on the other end the knot in his throat is so thick that he’s afraid he might choke if he tries to say anything.

“Um,” her voice on the other end of the line sounds like a miracle, and Jasper finds himself clinging to his phone even as he strides into the parking lot, rain pouring down heavily on his head. “Hello?”

“Alice?” He can’t keep his voice from cracking as he makes it to his car, struggling with the keys to open the door and make it inside. “It’s Jasper.”

“I know,” and her voice sounds so small, so unsure that Jasper’s chest hurts hearing it. “Esme and Carlisle got me a phone.”

“That’s amazing,” he finds himself smiling as he talks, slamming the car door shut once he finally manages to climb inside and avoid the downpour. “Is it hard to use?”

“Kind of,” her voice sounds raspier than usual. Whether it’s due to misuse or injury, Jasper is still unsure. He hasn’t heard anything about her physical state, yet. “Edward’s helping me a lot though. Which is nice.” Theres another pause. “He’s nice.”

“He is,” Jasper agrees, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. “It’s so good to hear from you, Alice.”

“Jasper,” she sounds sad, then, “I want to apologize.”

“What?” He sits up abruptly, his eyes open again. “Alice, no. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I lied,” she whispers, “so, so much.”

“No, you didn’t. You kept quiet to keep yourself safe,” his words are stern but kind. “That’s different.”

“I’ve made everyone so, so miserable,” and when her voice cracks, Jasper feels something in his chest crack right alongside it. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Alice, listen to me,” clinging to the phone with both hands he finds that he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to tell this girl and he doesn’t know how to repair something that neither of them are responsible for damaging in the first place.

The entire situation is a mess.

“Are you allowed to have visitors now?” He asks instead. “I’d really like to see you.” There’s a slight pause. “And Cynthia,” he adds on. “I’m not sure if she’s told you about our adventure the other week.”

Alice laughs then, “Yeah. She keeps telling me she likes my tall friend with the pizza.” Jasper smiles at that. “I told her I do, too.” Theres the sound of shuffling on the other line, and then Alice speaks again. “I’m… not sure if I’m allowed…”

“Can you ask?” Then, he realizes what he’s requesting of her, and changes his mind. “I can have Edward ask, I mean.” The idea of asking a parent for permission for anything is something he’s sure Alice has no experience in.

“Um, maybe, yeah. That might be better.” After a slight pause, she sighs into the phone. “I miss you.”

Jasper’s stomach does flips then as he deflates back down into the seat. He can hear the sound of the final bell going off in the background, but he’s too focused on his phone to care. “How about I text Edward, and see if I can come over later?” The idea of inviting himself over to the Cullen household is as bizarre as it is bold, but Jasper doesn’t care. He wants to see Alice, badly. “Maybe I’ll bring some pizza for you and Cynthia.”

Alice giggles at that. “I think she’d really like that. Yeah, okay.”

It isn’t until minutes later when Rosalie wordlessly climbs into the passenger seat that he realizes he’s been crying. She gasps at the sight, leaning forward and grabbing his hand and demanding to know what’s wrong, and only when he wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands and shakes his head, telling her that Alice is safe and home, does she deflate, pulling him into a hug.

Esme Cullen declines his offer to bring pizza, but is happy enough to see him when he and Rosalie walk through their front door that night. Cynthia is excited to see him and wants to show Jasper her new bedroom, informing him that it’s ‘full of books and shelves’, prompting Rosalie and Jasper to share a strange look with one another and prompting Esme to quickly explain that they were still in the process of packing up her husband’s study to convert into another bedroom for the young girl.

The house is huge—easily one of the biggest homes Jasper has ever seen—and when they eventually reach the kitchen in the back of the house, Alice is already sitting at the table, her eyes wide and smile bright as they cross the room toward her.

“Alice! Alice! Your friends are here!” Cynthia exclaims before climbing into the chair beside her sister.

Alice laughs and looks over at her sister, beaming, “I see that! I’m so happy!”

“Me too!” The girl giggles before hopping down off the chair and running after Esme. “Let’s finish dinner now, please, please!”

Alice looks better than Jasper expected her to, if he’s being honest with himself. One eye is still quite swollen and what used to be her ‘good arm’ is in some type of sling, but her smile is bright and there is color in her cheeks. Judging by the ill-fitting button down Jasper can tell it’s a collarbone fracture, and even though he can’t see her legs, there is a wheelchair resting a few feet behind where she sits.

“Good to see you,” Rose smiles at the small girl, leaning forward to wrap Alice in a light hug. Alice looks delighted at such a reaction from Rosalie, even grinning excitedly over the blonde’s shoulder toward Jasper, and when she lifts her pink cast to give him a thumbs up, he has to refrain from laughing out loud. “I’ll have to drag Emmett by sometime this week. He can’t wait to see you.”

“Oh, please do!” Then, Alice freezes, turning toward where Esme and Cynthia are across the room, “I—I mean, if I’m allowed to.”

Esme’s smile is kind and her words are steady when she calls calmly toward the anxious girl. “Guests are welcome any time before eight PM on school nights and ten PM on weekends. Carlisle and I will let you know beforehand if we have any exceptions on any days.”

And with the gentle setting of boundaries Jasper watches as Alice calms visibly, her shoulders losing their tension as she turns back toward Rosalie and smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I want to see Emmett, too.”

“He might be over sooner than this week,” Edward chimes in as he enters the room, waving his phone toward them. “He and Bella are on their way now, apparently.”

Rosalie manages to look a bit irritated at that. “He didn’t tell me he was coming.”

“I thought you didn’t care what Emmett does with his free time,” Edward speaks knowingly. It takes Jasper several seconds to realize that Edward is teasing his sister. And not only that, Rosalie hasn’t retorted; instead, she’s turning bright red where she stands.

Oh. Well, that was certainly a development.

“I’m glad I planned on having leftovers,” Esme laughs good-naturedly from the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Despite the unexpected guests, the dinner at the Cullen household goes like this: He manages to sit himself on Alice’s opposite side and hardly leaves it the entire night. She has difficulty picking up food with her fork, and even despite Esme’s insistence that she can help the girl Jasper insists on doing it. It’s when he realizes that most of the foods he’s scooping onto her utensils are soft, easily chewable things, that he wonders, as he helps her wrap her fingers around her fork again and again, what other unseen injuries she possesses.

Emmett and Rosalie insist on helping Esme clean up dinner, and Edward shows Jasper how to fold and unfold Alice’s wheelchair, before the younger boy helps Alice into it. Jasper feels nauseous as he sees that both of her legs are injured. Her left is in a cast up to her knee, and her right foot is in a black boot.

They’re ushered from the kitchen into a giant living room with a television so big that it makes Jasper wonder how they got it into the house.

As they wait for Emmett and Rosalie to join them Cynthia takes control of the remote as well as the trajectory of their night. Edward groans and Bella shushes him when the little girl announces they’re watching some animated movie Jasper knows nothing about, but after an hour into the film Emmett has declared that it’s his new favorite movie and Cynthia has declared that Emmett is her new favorite person.

They’re halfway through the sequel when the little girl finally passes out, one too many musical numbers zapping her energy. Esme laughs and Emmett remarks that his dance partner has underestimated her endurance as he helps collect the girl and carry her off to bed.

They turn the cartoon off after that and put on something a little more suitable for a group of teenagers. Some mindless comedy that Esme decides to forgo as she prepares to retreat to some other part of the house.

“Dude, your mom kicks ass,” Emmett whispers to Edward after Esme finally leaves them, bowls of freshly popped popcorn and pitchers of juice placed on the coffee table before them all. “What the hell?” He gestures to the TV and the popcorn. “HBO max and the gourmet buttered shit? You’ve been holding out on us, Cullen.”

“Edward’s spoiled,” Bella remarks with a grin as Edward turns to glare at his girlfriend, but when she pokes him in the ribs, causing him to jump nearly a foot in the air, they all laugh. “What? It’s true.”

The movie has barely begun before Jasper feels Alice begin to drift at his side. He turns toward her, hyperaware of her every movement, watching as she begins to nod off slowly, her head dipping and eyes fluttering shut every few seconds.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asks quietly enough that no one else hears him over the noise of the surround-sound in the room. But Alice shakes her head stubbornly before sitting up and adjusting the pillows beneath her arm in the sling. Then, she snuggles up close to Jasper’s side and lets out a long sigh.

“Not yet,” she mutters to him, even though her eyes are already fluttering shut again. “I want to stay here, please.”

Jasper barely pays attention to the movie after that. Instead he spends the next hour and a half letting his mind run rampant. His thoughts are so swept up in all things Alice that he hardly notices when the movie has ended and Emmett and Rosalie are standing up and stretching. Emmett starts to talk loudly before Rose smacks his shoulder, gesturing to where Alice is fast asleep at Jasper’s side.

They all slowly disperse after that. Rosalie hitches a ride home with Emmett, and before Edward leaves to drive Bella home he goes and fetches his mother to help Jasper move Alice to bed.

While Esme is unfolding the chair Jasper simply stands, maneuvering Alice into his arms as carefully as possible, all while trying not to jostle her too much. “It’s fine,” he whispers to Esme, shaking his head and gesturing for her to lead the way.

The room that has become Alice’s room is the only bedroom on the main level. Originally a guest room, Esme explains, it didn’t take much to transform it into the type of a room a teenage girl would love. In addition to the new cell phone, there’s a small desktop situated on a new-looking desk in the corner of the room, and there are pink and white twinkle lights cascading across where the walls and ceiling meet. The bedspread is also pink and white, and knowing that they’re Alice’s favorite colors, and that this room was hurriedly designed with her in mind, is enough to force Jasper’s throat to tighten up with emotion again.

The bed is low enough to make it easy for Alice to get in and out with minimal assistance, which means that Jasper has to bend down quite far to gently deposit Alice against the covers. Despite his care, she wakes up the instant his arms are back at his sides, sitting up with a gasp and then a wince, and when she cries out in pain both he and Esme are at her side.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Esme presses a firm hand between her shoulder blades, pressing forward until she’s sitting up straight. “There we go, good. Try not to bend sideways, that-a-girl.”

Gritting her teeth together Alice blinks up at the pair of them, visibly relaxing at the two people in front of her. “I need to pee,” she manages to rasp between pained gasps.

“I’ll go get her chair,” Esme says as she stands back up, swiftly exiting the room.

“Are you alright?”

Alice nods quickly, despite the pain apparent on her face. “Just hurts,” she wheezes as she closes her eyes. Reaching out she grabs for his hand, which Jasper is all-too-happy to give to her. Squeezing it tightly she manages a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be alright,” Jasper sighs. And he means those words so wholeheartedly that it makes him emotional. Her injuries would heal, both physical as well as mental. It was so clear, in just the way that the Cullens had quickly outfitted their home to take in the two girls, that they would be safe here, and loved, and cared for.

Everything they hadn’t been afforded before.

“Is it after ten?” She asks, her eyes looking for the clock on the nightstand behind her. But when she tries to twist to see it and winces, she laughs. “I keep forgetting I can’t do that.”

“It’s nearly ten; 9:48.”

“That means you have to go soon, then.”

He nods as Esme enters the room, wheeling her chair in and helping Alice scoot herself off of the bed and into it. “We’ll be right back,” the kind-hearted woman smiles up at him as she wheels Alice out of the room. “Carlisle will be home any minute now.”

True to her word, the sound of the front door opening and closing brings Jasper’s attention toward the hallway as he watches Carlisle Cullen move carefully through his home.

Upon sight of the teenager standing alone in Alice’s room he approaches with a smile. “Good to see you, Jasper,” and when the older man offers his hand, Jasper takes it firmly, realizing this is the first time he’s actually spoken to Edward’s father. “I heard you all had a fun night.”

“Yes, sir,” Jasper nods, “Dinner, some movies. My sister and I appreciate the hospitality.”

Carlisle smiles warmly. “And you’re both welcome any time. Friends of Edward’s, and of Alice’s, are always welcome here.”

Jasper is taken aback by how much he dislikes that particular statement. Thankfully, Esme and Alice return seconds later, but the idea that he is simply that—a friend to Alice, doesn’t sit right with him.

It’s a ridiculous reaction to have, of course. And he continues to think this even as he helps Carlisle move Alice out of her chair and into her bed. It isn’t until Alice releases her grip on his hand that he realizes the cause of his disdain for the title.

He isn’t friends with Alice Brandon. Not really.

He cares about this tiny girl far, far too much to use the word. And when she smiles up at him almost shyly when Carlisle kindly reminds the two that ten PM is as late as guests can stay, Jasper can’t help the heart palpitations he feels when she turns to the older man and promises she’ll let Jasper leave after she properly says goodnight.

Jasper can see the unamused look Carlisle gives his wife, but Esme is hiding her grin well as she grabs her husband’s hand and drags him from the room, even closing the door behind them both; a luxury that even Jasper’s lenient father never grants to him and Rosalie when they have guests over.

The alarm clock on the bedside table blinks a bright pink 9:57 at him, and he knows his time is nearly up.

Alice reaches over and takes his hand in hers, tugging slightly until he’s sitting on the bed beside her. Carlisle already propped her up on the pillows and blankets she’ll be sleeping on until her collarbone heals, so Jasper has to nearly crawl across the bed until he’s sitting at her side. And even though most of her injuries are now hidden from him with a blanket tossed over her, he knows they’re there. That her bones are broken and her injuries are still too extensive to even properly see all of them. That the state of her body is far worse than it was that night she came to him, lip and cheek bleeding as she quietly sobbed on the floor of his bedroom.

“I have so much I want to say to you,” Alice eventually speaks, her eyes staring at his hand as she grips it tightly. “But I know I don’t have a lot of time, so I think ‘thank you’ is good enough for tonight.” She stares intently down at his hand as she speaks, and Jasper is so hypnotized by the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips pucker when she frowns that he has to force himself to focus on her words. “If you hadn’t found Cynthia that day, and if you didn’t do what you did, I would be lying in a pool of blood in the basement of that house, dead right now.”

The sorrow that fills him, upon hearing those words from her mouth, is something Jasper can’t even begin to properly sort through. So when Alice continues talking, he files that feeling away, knowing he’ll need to process it eventually, but that right now, Alice and her words are what is important.

“I owe you a lot; not just my life. But explanations. And stories and,” Alice swallows and forces herself to look back up at him, “and I owe you. All the answers I have to give.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he needs to emphasize that before she makes up her mind. “You will never owe me a single thing, Alice.”

“Well, what if I want to volunteer the information? What if I want to tell you every little thing I couldn’t before? Every detail that was dangerous before?”

He stares back into her eyes, realizing for the first time that they’re a deep, dark blue color. “I’ll listen to any little thing you want to tell me, Alice,” he promises as he holds her gaze.

Alice releases his hand then, lifting her hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb against his skin as the palm of her cast presses against his face. “What if I tell you to kiss me?” She whispers, her gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips as she attempts to lean up.

“Are you sure?” He feels himself leaning down before he can even gather her reply, and the second she has enough of a grip on the back of his neck she’s pulling him down toward her.

“Please kiss me,” she whispers against his lips, and when he finally obliges her, she sighs against his mouth. It’s the most beautiful sound Jasper has ever heard.

The kiss is sweet, gentle, and far-too-short, as a sharp knock on the door forces him to draw back quickly, turning at the sound of Carlisle on the other side of the door, reminding them that it was after ten now.

Alice laughs when she hears Esme scold her husband, and then the two voices are far away when Jasper turns back down to look at her. “Oops,” is all he can think to say.

Alice’s laughter fills the room as she reaches up again. And when Jasper kisses her once more before pulling away, Alice sighs against his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose before nodding. “Tomorrow.”

“If visitors are allowed as late as ten o’clock,” Alice muses softly as Jasper crawls out of the bed. “I wonder how early they’re allowed…”

Jasper laughs, walking over to the side of the bed Alice is on before leaning down, capturing her lips in one final kiss. “I’ll ask on the way out.” And when Alice pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, Jasper scoffs at his own train of thought.

He and Alice Brandon definitely weren’t ‘friends’.

And that was more than enough for Jasper.

#jalicesecretsanta20 #twilight fanfiction #Jalice fanfiction #I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ANNA I HOPE YOU LOVE IT TOO!!!!!#twilight saga #its a drama-filled high school human AU so please forgive me for the whump and the sands #SADS*

32 notes · View notes

stanskzseungmin · 5 years

Text

HHJ ~ Tragic Fairytale

Inspired by a dying relationship I tried to make work

Also not proofread...or beta read

Today WE DIE LIKE MEN.

(Also I can't find the original owner of this gif help)

Genre: Angst

Soulmate! AU

Prompt used:

Forbidden (Angst): I will write about my character longing for something they can never have.

You and Hyunjin had always been close.

You were quite literally fetus friends. Both your moms had a long lasting friendship dating back to middle school. So its no surprise that you and Hyunjin grew up together.

You had a rare gift. Everyone has a soulmate with their names tattooed intricately on their wrist. However, they can not see the names. You could.

And on your wrist, delicately tattooed in white cursive, Hwang Hyunjin.

On his, Y/N.

However, there is some interference from the universe. You can not physically tell people who their soulmate was and you can not drop any hints as well. You can however, change the soulmate name on someone else’s wrist.

You and Hyunjin were still as close as ever when you both entered high school.

However, puberty hit Hyunjin well. He grew considerably taller and his features got more eye appealing and refined. As his visuals got more and more attractive, his popularity soared. Of course this means Hyunjin will get swept away by people and will get dragged into cliques; thus, Hyunjin and you never really hung out as much during school hours.

You both were still close, fortunately.

You both walk home together and would often crash at each other’s places to do homework and hang out until nightfall since you both lived a few houses apart.

“Hey can you do me a favor?” hyunjin asked out of nowhere.

“Hmm?” you hummed in response with your eyes still glued to your homework.

“There’s this girl I really like,” Hyunjin started.

He broke your heart that night.

Hyunjin asked if you could change his soulmate name to hers. You loved him. You really do, so you did.

That night you delicately write her name on Hyunjin’s wrist and watch your own fade away. Overtime, you would watch Hyunjin’s name fade from your wrist.

You watch Hyunjin fall more hopelessly in love with his crush. You watch him smile and laugh at her every word. You watched how his eyes would turn into small crescents and how his nose crinkles every time he let out a genuine smile or laugh.

You feel your pain subside.

It was unnerving at first, losing everything about Hyunjin.

From once you felt butterflies with every interaction with hyunjin to pain and heartbreak and finally

to nothing.

You were scared. Many thoughts were running through your mind as different scenarios formed, each one worse than the last.

You told yourself. If Hyunjin was happy, then so were you.

But now, there was nothing.

You sat on a bench at the front entrance waiting for hyunjin as always. He was late, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. It was unnerving how little you felt for Hyunjin now in such a short amount of time.

Since you couldn't be bothered to care, then why should you wait?

You gathered your things as you slung your backpack over your shoulder. You stood from your spot and turned to leave.

“Hey!” Hyunjin called out to you.

you turned to face him.

“Hyunjin,” you merely stated. You flinched inwardly hearing you cold monotone voice.

Hyunjin visably flinched at your tone.

“I-I thought you were going to wait for me?” he breathed out with an awkward smile.

You shrugged as you turned to leave. Hyunjin deadpanned momentarily as he lightly jogged to catch up with you. He easily caught up to you with his long legs and slowed to match your pace.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you responded quickly.

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not,” you quipped.

“You’re not?” Hyunjin exasperated stepping in front of your path. “If you’re not, then why are you being so distant?”

“I have no reason to speak with you,” you merely responded attempting to walk past him.

He sidestepped to block your advances.

“Do you really need a reason?” his tone was stern yet offended.

“Yes.”

“What? Why?” Hyunjin gasped out as he felt a pang of pain in his chest. “We’re best friends.”

“Were,” you corrected as you deadpanned at him.

Hyunjin’s face softened to one of hurt and confusion. His eyes held pain as it became glossy with tears.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “Y/N please. What did I do?”

“Nothing,” your eyes trailed off to the side in disinterest.

“Then why?” Hyunjin’s voice cracked slightly.

“You didn’t do anything,” you clarified. “I did.”

You lifted up your wrist and pointed at the flesh knowing full well Hyunjin couldn’t see the name inked there by fate.

“Did you do something to your name?” Hyunjin asked worryingly.

You didn't respond. You gently grabbed at his wrist gently rotating it towards his view and pointed at the flesh there. Hyunjin’s mouth gaped open in confusion. In his moment of confusion, you took your opportunity to walk past him.

“Wait! What does this have to do- I’m sorry if I made you do this” Hyunjin rushed forward grabbing your wrist.

You turned to look at him.

“But it doesn't matter right? I’m still your best friend?” Hyunjin chuckled nervously.

Anxiety crawled up Hyunjin’s chest as he wondered what did he do to lose his best friend, his rock, his partner in crime.

“I don't have a name,” you clarified.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in horror.

If a person loses the soulmate name, not only do they lose their soulmate, they also lose their soul unless anothename can be imprinted.

“No no no no,” Hyunjin panics as his hands reach for your shoulders gripping it lightly. “W-why? What happened?”

“I changed yours,” you stated.

“B-but, how does this-” Hyunjin choked finally putting the pieces together.

Hyunjin shook his head repeatedly whispering “No” to himself. Tears were streaming down his face not wanting to believe the answer he was presented with.

“You can write a name on your wrist, right?” Hyunjin lifted up your wrist to his lips and kissed the soft flesh lightly. “Like you did to mine?”

“I can’t change my own,” you finalized,

Hyunjin sobbed, realization finally hitting him from what he has done.

“Please,” he choked out. “Please tell me it’s not me.”

Hyunjin’s heart constricted painfully as it felt as if he was suffocating.

“Please,” he repeated weeping. “Please say it’s not me.”

“It’s not.” Hyunjin looked up at you with hope glimmering in his eyes. “Not anymore.”

Hyunjin felt as if his entire world has fallen apart.

Hyunjin fell to his knees on the sidewalk crying like s fool. You stood there momentarily staring at him before turning to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Hyunjin chanted with more pain laced in each and every word.

Hyunjin grabbed pathetically at your legs in an attempt to stop you from leaving him only for you to easily walk out of his grip.

“Please,” he whispered. “I need you.”

His words fell to death ears.

You didn’t show up to class the next day.

Hyunjin sat at your desk with a book all about soulmates on his lap as he awaited your arrival.

Hyunjin can hear the whispers around him, but Hyunjin didn't care. his eyes were glossed over and they were red and extremely puffy. on his cheeks were dried tears as he sniffled often to stop the snot from running.

By the end of the day, he watched as his world became broken beyond all repair.

Those with the ability to rewrite the soulmate tattoos can only merely change the appearance of the name to spur the change. The rest is up to the “client.” For the change to be solidified and recognized by the universe, they would have to fall in love and have the love be reciprocated.

However, since the name has been changed, the other half will have their soulmate tattoo fade and disappear. If a new soulmate can not be registered and mated again to another soul, then their souls would disappear forever.

Your mom called Hyunjin in a frantic after school. Hyunjin rushed over to your house with his legs taking him there as fast as they could. His lungs burned and his legs ached as he proceeded with his full sprint.

Hyunjin couldn't remember much of that day.

He remembered bursting through the door of your room.

He remember your mom sobbing hopelessly.

He remembered embracing your soulless body sobbing and apologizing profusely.

He remembered blacking out on your bed with you in his arms.

This became routine for him: wake up, go to school, go to your house afterwards, read you the lecture notes so you wouldn't fall too far behind, occasionally bringing you your favorite snacks and hopefully pressing the snack item against your lips until your body’s mechanical skills kick in and take the food item, finish homework, take care of you, go home, repeat.

You sat upright on your bed in a slight slouched position. Your half lidded eyes faded to a dull grey color void of any emotion. Your cheeks grew paler by the day. You were no longer responsive, never flinching, never feeling, forever broken. all because of him.

It was all his fault.

Hyunjin’s heart broke more each and every day.

Hyunjin can't let you go. Not now. Not ever. In fear of letting you down once last time.

Your mom was thankful for hyunjin constantly taking care of you while she was at work.

After high school, Hyunjin moved into an apartment with you. He had a simple cafe job for flexible work hours.

You both were lying on the same bed. Hyunjin figured it shouldn't really matter since you both shared beds every time you crashed at each other’s places too lazy to go home. Hyunjin was laying his head over your chest. your heart was beating slow and steady like a metronome. Hyunjin finds some comfort in your heartbeat because it serves as a reminder that you're still alive. hyunjin lifted up his wrist into view, the name of his dumb crush was brilliantly shown in black ink.

The soulmate name will appear before both soulmates if they were to fall in love with each other, the names would be presented in brilliant white ink for all to see as proof of their love. The other case of appearance is when their soulmate dies resulting in the name presented in black.

You were Hyunjin’s soulmate, but he had you change it to his crush. The name served as reminder of Hyunjin’s greatest mistake with it dyed a brilliant black to signify your death. You weren’t dead per se, you were still living and breathing but you were an empty shell void of a soul.

The sound of Hyunjin’s alarm blasted deafeningly loud, but Hyunjin didn't want to go about his day. However, he needed money for rent.

After the daily necessities, Hyunjin sat you opposite of him and cooked up a simple noodle soup. Hyunjin decantently fed you blowing each spoonful generously and bringing the spoon to your lips. Eventually you body would kick in and accept the spoon into your mouth to chew briefly and swallowing.

After breakfast, Hyunjin would slowly walk you to the living room couch in front of the tv. He made sure to keep everything within arms reach: the tv remote, your phone, a sandwich on a plate and a glass of water incase you get hungry. He would place the items near the edge of the table and push it closer to you.

Afterwards, each and everyday without fail, Hyunjin would cup your face into his hands. He would delicately kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your chin, your temples, just anywhere before finishing on your lips. His lips would mold softly into your unmoving ones pouring all of his emotions, his pain, his regret and mainly his love for you, into that final kiss. He held onto the small hope that true love’s kiss would prevail. You both were soulmates afterall.

But life isn't a fairytale.

Every single day was the same. Hyunjin would return home after work to see you in the same position where he left you. The food and water were left untouched. Your phone and the remote were unmoved. It would most definitely collect dust if left long enough.

Hyunjin would push the table back far enough for him to situate himself on the floor in front of you. Hyunjin would position your hand palm side up and rest his cheek there with his arms loosely wrapped around your legs. Hyunjin would sometimes place the plate on your lap and with his left hand he would hold the sandwich to your lips. Sometimes your body will allow consumption but it often doesn’t.

The pain Hyunjin feels day by day doesn't get easier. The ache in his chest was forever present as he felt himself suffocate more and more everyday. Some days the pain would get too unbearable and it feels as if all the weight in the world was on his chest depriving him of oxygen. his heart would beat loudly in his ears as he gasped and sobbed as the panic from a mental breakdown wracked his body.

Today was that day.

Hyunjin passed out with his tear stained cheek resting delicately on your hand, the sandwich left forgotten on the plate on your lap.

Hyunjin was living through punishment for his sins. Some days he wondered if he was punished enough and the universe would recognize his repent and offer forgiveness, but Hyunjin knew he doesnt deserve it.

However, the universe had their own plans.

Hope.

Hyunjin didn't know how long he was passed out for. When we awoke, the room was dark. outside the window was the star lit night sky. You were still seated in the same position. You were upright with a slight slouch, your arms limp on either side of your body, your head was tilted downward with half lidded dull grey eyes as your chest steadily rose and fell.

Hyunjin nuzzled into your hand softly yearning for your touch. Hyunjin let out a small huff and satup running his hand through his hair and rubbing his puffy face.

His eyes gazed over the sandwich in your lap. He was sure it wasn't there before. It’s small and barely noticeable, but it was most definitely a bite.

Hyunjin didn't hesitate. Day by day, he recreated the same conditions as that day. Hyunjin would sit there for hours even until the morning light peeked over the horizon.

It has been two weeks since then. Hyunjin was beginning to lose sight if that hope.

But another hope glimmered one day when Hyunjin returned from work. Hyunjin briefly planted a kiss on your temple before heading straight to the shower because he accidentally spilled coffee on himself. He has failed to notice a singular bite in the sandwich.

Hyunjin left the shower drying his hair with a towel. The towel obstructed his view as he made his way over to you. He swung his towel over his neck just to meet eye to eye with your dull gray ones. Your head was turned towards him. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide and blown out. His heart started to beat rapidly.

“Y/N?” he breathed out walking to you slowly. Your head turned slowly following his every movement.

Hyunjin delicately grasped your hands in his as he kneeled before you.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin sobbed out quietly.

You didn't answer, you merely stared deeply in his eyes and didn't make any sudden movement or reaction. Hyunjin can feel you staring deep into his soul with your dull gray eyes. You were difficult to read. Your eyes showed no emotion whatsoever.

Hyunjin wanted to speak to you but he felt his words latch onto his throat as his chest ached horribly with heartbreak. He desperately wanted to tell you his feelings but he was choking in his sobs.

He wanted to. He needed to.

Because what if this was the last Hyunjin would see of you before you become forever unmoving once more.

Ugly sobs erupted from Hyunjin as he tried to choke out his words. Tears were flowing down his cheeks in neverending streams and snot dribbled down from his nostrils.

"Im s-sorry," Hyunjin forced out. His voice weak, broken and breathless.

"I’m so sorry," he choked out once more with more structure and support.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Hyunjin sobbed, his voice accidentally raised with raw emotion as his hands gripped yours tightly.

Hyunjin coughed and wheezed as the pain in his chest became increasingly more unbearable. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours as his entire body shook with sobs.

"I love you," Hyunjin whispered out. "I love you so fucking much."

Hyunjin desperately looked into your eyes for any type of emotional response. He didn't care if it was rage, anger, or disappointment. He just needed anything.

But he never got it.

Hyunjin skipped work the next day calling in sick. He opted with staying in bed with you held securely in his arms.

Hyunjins phone vibrated softly against the night stand, but it fell to dead ears. Hyunjin know it was Jisung that was blowing up his phone. The two were best friends throughout high school and even ended up working at the same cafe. Jisung tended to nag Hyunjin a lot due to him looking more and more dead each day. Annoyed with the constant vibrations, Hyunjin quickly grabbed his phone and set it to do not disturb. The last message he saw was "I heard you called in sick. Do you need me to come over later?

Hyunjin didn't answer and tossed the phone over his shoulder missing the night stand and fell with a soft thud on the floor.

Once again Hyunjin rested his head on your chest with his arms wrapped securely around your body.

The soft metronomic heartbeat that once kept him sane with the knowledge that you were still here alive and well now caused anxiety to crawl up his chest.

He was so close. He was so fucking close. But you went back to your soulless state. No eye contact. No head following his every movement.

Hyunjin felt as if he lost you all over again. Pain ripped through his chest as it got harder and harder to breathe. Hyunjin felt as if metal barbed wire was wrapped around his heart and lungs and is slowly getting tighter. Hyunjin felt the sobs wrack through his body again as his mental state deteriorated.

Hyunjin would then make another fatal mistake.

Hyunjins body would shoot up as he straddled your waist. Hyunjin huffed and sniffled as tears flood his vision. Hyunjin felt as if he was suffocating, he wanted you to feel the same.

In his fit of madness, Hyunjin pressed a pillow onto your face. He was desperately wanting you to feel just anything.

Hyunjin froze when he heard a faint voice yelling at him at the back of his mind. At first Hyunjin couldn't tell whose voice it was but he quickly realized it was his own voices screaming at him to stop.

Hyunjins voice hitched as he rejoined reality. Horror bubbled within him once he realized what he's done. Hyunjin very quickly tossed aside the pillow and he's met with your blown out eyes and your mouth open in a silent scream.

"N-no," Hyunjin choked out.

"No no. Y/N, I'm so sorry."

Hyunjins hands shook as his fingers ghosted over your cheeks afraid to. reak you even further.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked "Y/N please…"

Hyunjin weeped as he delicately cupped your face. Hesitantly, he leaned down pressing his ear against your chest.

Hyunjin weeped.

The metronomic heartbeat is stilled to a stop as your chest remained unmoving.

Hyunjin snapped.

With loud wailing and sobbing, Hyunjin began grabbing at everything. He ripped off the curtains, the metal rod clanged loudly against the floor. With loud ugly screams, he knocked over the drawers and closet. His hand reached for the picture that stood on the nightstand. The photo captured both your smiling faces as you completed each others hand heart. You both had taken that selfie with your polaroid on the first day of high school. Before you lost your soul. Before Hyunjin Getting that stupid crush. Before everything fell apart.

With a loud sob, he tossed it towards the wall. The force of the throw had Hyunjin’s arm aching in pain as the frame and glass broke and shattered against the wall.

Hyunjin kicked his discarded phone as it slid and bounced into another wall. The phone illuminated the message.

HJS: Hey my shift ended. I’m going to come over to see how you're doing.

Jisung stood outside Hyunjins door with an americano and a croissant that he brought over.

"Yah! Hyunjin! You better open up," Jisung called out knocking on the door harshly.

No answer.

"If you are not opening up, I'm coming in!"

No answer.

"Fine by me."

Jisung bent down to grab the spare key that hyunjin hid under his welcome mat.

Jisung at first didn't notice anything strange when he entered the apartment.

"Hyunjin?" Jisung called out closing the door behind him.

Everything looked clean. There were dirty dishes in the sink but other than that, everything looked fine. Jisung set down Hyunjin’s drink and croissant on the kitchen table. He made his way over to Hyunjin's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.

"Oh my god!" Jisung exclaimed loudly. Backing up quickly tripping over his own feet. Jising landed ungracefully on His bottom with his eyes blown out in shock and horror.

"Oh my fucking god," Jisung stammered. "Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do?"

The room was messy with things thrown all around with many of them broken and shattered.

Jisung stood in horror upon sight of his best friend swinging softly back and forth, arms limp at his sides, his eyes were hooded with tear stained cheeks, his mouth parted slightly with drool dribbling out hanging on a noose tied to a ceiling fan.

Life wasn't a fairytale.

Soulmates was supposed to be a beautiful story, but for Hwang Hyunjin and Y/N,

life was a tragedy.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids angst #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

163 notes · View notes

polyamorouspunk · 4 years

Note

🌻

The very first Warped Tour I went to I went specifically to see Palaye Royale and when I arrived I was looking around for their tent and I ended up finding Remington Leith first so I ended up tagging along with him looking for their booth and just making casual conversation with him and I was like “my mom baked blueberry muffins this morning and I brought you guys some and I made you bracelets” because that was like my first fan experience in anything and I was like idk what protocol is.

Being in Ag meant I traveled around a lot and on the night I was getting home from Boston my best friend texted me like hey Corey Feldman’s gonna be here wanna go see him and I was like fuck yeah so I have a picture of us and Corey Feldman and a signed poster of him I brought with me and I look disgusting my hair is greasy it was like midnight but like it was Corey Fuckin’ Feldman, you know, the dude that she had a framed photo of before this one that she used to carry around school with her and that I had like 200 pictures of on my phone and could recite movies he was in.

I looked at the Teacher Crush Community yesterday for some laughs and there was a meme of the character I’m currently crushing on being like “I’m a slut for older men” and I was like well fuck call me out why don’t you but like I 👏🏻 Don’t 👏🏻 Actually 👏🏻 Want 👏🏻 To 👏🏻 Date 👏🏻 An 👏🏻 Adult 👏🏻 Man 👏🏻 like yeah Savvy fangirls and like yeah I had a small crush of like “this man is attractive” on one of my teachers who my best friend and I would whip out our framed photo of Corey Feldman and put it on our shared table and I would go back and forth with him about how AC/DC is actually a very good band and about how no actually all their songs don’t sound the same thank you smh but like I never had a secret blog dedicated to him because 👏🏻 yikes 👏🏻 but my heart goes out to all the thirsty high school girls who can’t see their hot history teachers in quarantine stay strong queens.

My boyfriend and I actually have no idea if our main teacher even knew we were dating even thought we like held hands under the table and stuff he was a bit of an airhead and had major “weird uncle” vibes but like that was like our dad you know? Like at least one of my classmates called him dad and he called him son like for real you want to talk about family try being in Ag.

Throughout high school it was kind of custom for some kids to hang out in cliques in different teacher’s rooms during our free periods and lunch. My senior year I had like 4 study halls so I bounced between taking a morning shift watching the dogs and letting them out to pee and play with them and stuff and then being in my English teacher’s room where one time I literally commandeered a corner of her classroom to make crafts for my canoe regatta because my best friend and I were captains and I was like this shelf? Mine now. And she was like okay sounds good, and she was such a lax teacher that literally during her class we’d be like can we go in the hall and she’d be like sure or she’d be like it’s a nice day let’s call and let the office know we’re going to go read outside but I had one class that was a new special class I ended up placing into (they called it Advanced Choir, it’s exactly what it sounds like) but that ran on a middle school schedule so half way between our 4th and last period we would have a study hall and we were technically assigned to said English teacher literally only because her classroom was the closest but we would be like “I’m fucking off to ag” and she’d be like okay have fun and I would just go hang out in Ag and plan our second trip to Boston or take a maple syrup shift. Being in Ag had so many perks like literally my teacher would be like oh? You’re on a canoe team? You race canoes? Your partner is also in this school? You wanna come teach my class? Yeah I can pull you out of period two let’s go canoeing and eat exotic foods like black bear instead of what, Latin? Yeah.

I could go on for hours about both Ag and Canoeing as they’re honestly like my two favorite things in the world.

#punk gets mail #punk overshares

4 notes · View notes

bxcketbarnes · 5 years

Text

Injuries

gif source

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: 1800+

Author’s Note: I got this request, “Not sure if you take requests, but could you possibly write about Steve caring for the reader when she’s on her period or sick or something?? You are an amazing writer ❤️” from a lovely anon and I want to thank you. I’m glad you think I’m an amazing writer and I hope you like this! I went a bit darker than probably needed and I also chose or something for Steve to care for!

High school is a rough time for anyone who isn’t apart of the cool kid's clique. I’ve been bullied by Steve Harrington’s friends for months, without the boy even knowing about it. Steve happens to be my rarely new boyfriend. We’ve been together for a little over a month, but his friends don’t accept me as one of their own.

I tread through the halls cautiously, looking out for Tommy H and his stupid friends as Steve had skipped school today. He ended up calling me this morning, telling me he planned to skip because of the argument he and his dad got into last night before the old man left town with his wife. I grab the books I need, shoving them into my bookbag before closing the locker, twisting the combination lock a few times.

“Look what we have here,” Tommy’s voice calls out and I tense up, looking to my left to him, Carol, and Brian. “The King isn’t here to protect his Queen today.”

Not saying anything to them, I try to walk past them, Brian’s hand landing on the back of my books, roughly pushing me back against the lockers. “Please,” I quietly beg as Tommy knocked the textbook and notebook from my hands, hearing them hit the floor with a slap.

“Aw isn’t that cute. She’s begging,” Carol snickers and tilts her head to the side. Her boyfriend cowers over me and I look up at him, fear swimming in my eyes as he smirks.

I was too preoccupied with him and didn’t notice Brian throwing the first punch to my ribs. A pained groan leaves my lips, doubling over as I slide down the lockers. “No, no. Get back up sweetie,” Tommy tells me as he grabs my arm roughly, making me stand back up. “You know that Steve’s only with you out of pity, right?”

“N-No,” I stutter, feeling my eyes sting a bit as the tears began to form, “you’re wrong.”

“Oh, I wish I was. He would never care for someone like you,” Carol adds in before Tommy grips my chin for a few seconds before he throws a punch to my face. My lips part as my eye throbs, the older teen grabbing my face once again before throwing another one. I cough, seeing the blood drip from my lips as his ring had cut it open.

“Please…” I trail off, tilting my head back against the locker, “please stop.”

The three of them snicker as Brian knocks me to the ground, him and Tommy beginning to kick me in the ribs. Screams leave my lips as I cower in fear and pain. “Shut the fuck up,” Carol mentions and manages to kick my face.

“Hey! Get out of here!” Someone yells out and the three scatter as Tommy gets one last hit in before running after his friends. The person crouches down in front of me and I whimper, shuffling back against the cold lockers. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.”

I move my arms away from my face, seeing Jonathan crouching in front of me with a sad expression on his face. “T-Thank you,” I whisper as tears run down my cheeks.

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here. I’ll explain to the teachers why you left,” he mutters and I nod, sniffling a bit. Jonathan helps me up, wrapping an arm around my waist as I see Nancy come running towards us.

“Oh my god, Y/N. What happened?” She asks while running a finger over my eye that’s swelling up. I wince slightly, moving my face away from her touch as she frowns.

“Tommy and his stupid friends were relentlessly beating on her,” Jonathan answers for me.

A gasp leaves her lips as her eyes move back to me. “Where’s Steve? He’s usually with you,” she mentions.

“He’s at home. He and his dad got into it last night and he called this morning saying he was skipping. Can you bring me there, please?” I ask Jonathan and he nods his head reluctantly, him and Nancy helping me out of the school.

Jonathan pulls into Steve’s driveway, parking behind his BMW as I unbuckle my seat belt. The boy unlocks the door and I open it, wincing as I turn my body to get out of the low-riding vehicle. “Do you need help?” Nancy asks from the passenger seat and I shake my head.

“No, no. I’m okay,” I mumble to the two, working through the pain as I slowly get out of the car. Once I’m out I take a deep breath, laying my hand on my ribs as the tender touches hurt. “Thank you for bringing me here and scaring me off. I don’t want to know how far they would’ve gone.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N. You don’t deserve that,” he tells me and I nod, tears filling my vision.

I give the two a small wave and he pulls out of the driveway. I make my way towards his doorstep, knocking on the door as loud as possible for him to hear it.

“Coming!” I heard him yell and I sniffle, the tears streaming down my face as the door opens. “Can I hel-Y/N?!” Steve cuts himself off at the sight of me, his face dropping as his eyes roam over my face.

“Hey, handsome,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood and my lip quivers almost immediately after.

Steve wraps an arm around my waist and I wince, a whimper leaving my lips. “W-What happened to you? Who did this?!” He asks, anger and sadness laced in his voice as he rests his hand against my back. He led me to the bathroom that’s in his bedroom, gathering the supplies he needs to treat the wounds on my face.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” I mutter to him sadly and he cradles my face, looking into my eyes.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I believe you?” He mentions while stroking my cheek.

I sigh, glancing towards the mirror to see how much damage has been done. My right eye is swollen almost completely as it’s also black and blue. “Tommy, Carol, and Brian did this to me,” I tell him quietly and look towards the floor, afraid to see what his face would look like.

“Are you serious?” He asks and I nod my head, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I’m gonna kill ‘em.” I snap my head up, seeing his brown eyes filled with anger as he douses some toilet paper in some peroxide. “This is gonna hurt a bit,” he softly mentions and I nod.

Steve takes a gentle hold of my bottom lip, dragging the soaked paper across the cut. I hiss at the feeling, my fingers gripping his wrist as he mutters an apology. After cleaning up the dried blood on my face, he takes the bloodied toilet paper and tosses it into the trash. His fingers grab a hold of the hem of my shirt, looking up at me to make sure it was alright.

“You’re fine, Steve,” I whisper to him and he nods his head, hair bouncing as he slowly pulls up my shirt, tucking it into my bra strap. I keep an eye on his face as his eyes were set on the bruises that are placed all over my torso.

“Jesus,” he mumbles and presses his lips together, “if only-”

“This isn’t your fault. Don’t place the blame on yourself, Steve. They’ve been assholes to me ever since we started flirting. They just don’t do it around you,” I confess to him and his head snaps up to mine. “T-They told me things, Steve… things that I know aren’t true, but can’t help but think about.”

Steve’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he grabs my hand, leading me back into his bedroom. “I’ll be right back. Lay down, okay?” He mentions and I nod my head, slowly getting onto his bed. He came back with an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth, climbing onto the bed beside me before setting it against my bruised ribs. He stayed quiet for a few moments before speaking up. “What’d they tell you?”

“They said that you were only with me out of pity,” I quietly tell him, looking up at him as his fingers graze against my exposed skin.

“They’re lying. I’m with you because you’re truly amazing, beautiful as hell. Your personality brightens up my life, makes me wanna be better. I truly do like you, a lot,” he explains to me and my heart flutters, a smile coming to my lips.

“I like you a lot too, cutie,” I giggle and he lets out a chuckle as well before leaning down to capture my lips with his. I raise my hand to his face, stroking his cheek as he pulled away about a minute later. Steve smiles down at me as my fingers move to his hair, giving him a small smile in return.

Steve and I were heading to the convenience store as it was a movie night at my place. It’s been a few days since the incident with his now-former friends. The two of us step out of the vehicle once we get there, a loud laugh escaping my lips as he told me some stupid joke.

“Well, well, well,” Tommy’s voice reaches my ears and I freeze in my spot. Steve’s arm pushes me a bit behind him as the three walk up to us. “Aw, are you protecting her?”

“Yeah, I am. Since you jackasses decided to corner an innocent girl and beat the shit out of her,” Steve growls as he narrows his eyes at him. Tommy laughs maniacally, shaking his head as he steps up to Steve.

“Are you really defending her? You know she’ll ruin your reputation, right?” He asks Steve.

“I don’t give a fuck about my reputation anymore. I actually care for her and you guys don’t like her because she’s not miserable, like you,” he tells them and shoves a finger against Tommy’s chest.

The freckled boy shoves Steve’s hand away from him. “What are you gonna do? Stop me?” He says and Steve lets out a laugh before suddenly throwing a punch to Tommy’s face.

“Steve!” I cry out as his next punch went to Brian. He and Tommy were lying on the ground as Steve began to kick in their ribs like they had done to me. Carol ends up pushing Steve, giving Tommy time to get up from the ground and attack the teen.

Tommy’s fist met Steve’s face, my hands clutching the sweater I’m wearing as Steve spits some blood out of his mouth, eyes filled with anger before he punches Tommy back two times harder. It knocks the freckled man out, Carol crouching beside him as Steve’s chest pants.

“If I were you I’d stay down and do me a favor? Stay the fuck away from us,” he mutters angrily and wraps his arms around me before heading into the store.

Stranger Things Taglist: @daisyxbuckley @lovefilledtragedy @morningfears @whiitee--sxxl @vanitysfairr @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @fangirlinganditswonders @ria132love @rissa067 @omgdani17 @sadgirlhours247 @radicalbilly @lizziejean13 @thecurlsofgod @makeupbychio @laurmillen @puppylover12222 @mishaphades @billyhargrovescigarette @l0ve-0f-my-life

131 notes · View notes

brianamorganbooks · 5 years

Link

Even for an all-girls boarding school, the first day of classes feels normal. I wake up a little before my alarm, anxiety roiling in my gut. No way can I go back to sleep. Waking up early turns out to be an unexpected blessing, though, as a knock sounds at the door. I glance over to the other bed, but Charlie isn’t there.

I yawn and manage to roll out of bed. When I answer the door, a security guard informs me that I have two visitors, but I’m not expecting anyone. To my surprise, two movers, both men, stand in the hallway. The security guard supervises as they haul two giant trunks into the dorm room, setting them down at the foot of Charlie’s bed.

“Here you go, Miss Masters,” one of them says to me.

With Charlie missing, it looks like I’m living in this room alone. I kind of feel like I am. I’m not so sure that Charlie unpacking will change that.

“I’m not her,” I say. “I don’t know where she is.”

The first mover grunts. “We need someone to sign for this. Do you think you can do that?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

The second mover passes me a tablet, and I scrawl my signature on the screen. He hands the tablet to his colleague and nods to the trunks. “Clothes and everything. Mr. and Mrs. Masters said if she’s missing anything, just let them know.”

That must mean they’re not coming to help her move in. As awful as she is to me, I feel a pang of pity. I may not be on the best terms with my parents right now, but at least they cared enough to make sure I’m settled.

The first mover nods. “Well, have a nice day.”

“You, too,” I answer.

Without another word, they shuffle off, talking loudly down the hall. The security nods and escorts them out.

Once they’re gone and I’ve closed the door behind them, I look over at the giant trunks—large, ornate, and ancient-looking—and wonder what to do. Charlie isn’t here to unpack them herself, and I wouldn’t dream of helping. She’d probably kill me for it.

The movers also brought an easel, a plastic storage tub labeled PAINTS AND ART SUPPLIES, and a bucket full of paintbrushes. Charlie’s an artist? Now the Monet makes more sense.

I finish my routine without touching her stuff, somewhat surprised when she doesn’t show up. My uniform is stiff and scratchy, but it doesn’t look too hideous. The Livingston standard is a red-and-gold pleated skirt, white dress shirt, red tie, and tan blazer with the Livingston crest emblazoned on the chest. As far as uniforms go, it could be so much worse. Still, my knee-high red socks and low-heeled shoes make me feel like a Catholic schoolgirl.

I sit alone at breakfast, fighting the urge to dump my tray and crawl back to my dorm room. I nurse my glass of orange juice like it’s something stronger and push my scrambled eggs around my plate with my fork.

I knew it would be hard for me to make friends here, but so far, I haven’t met a single person who isn’t in a clique. After my weird encounter with Charlie and the other girls in the bathroom, I’m less sure that was a fluke and surer that it’s par for the course. My mom thinks opening up is the key to getting closer to people, but how can I open up to anyone if I can’t get them to look at me, let alone maintain a conversation?

Not far away, Charlie, June, Billie, and Ronnie all sit together, eating and laughing. Some girls in hijabs sit at the table closest to me, also laughing. A squeal of delight cuts through the air, and I turn to see a group of black girls reenact a story. Nearby, more girls trade food items with each other.

I would give anything to know what that inclusion feels like.

After halfheartedly pushing my eggs around on my plate until my phone reminds me it’s time for class, I dump the content of my tray in the trash and sling my bag over my shoulder. Charlie and her gang are still seated, still laughing. I don’t want to bother them.

Classes are predictably boring. Thankfully, because this isn’t a movie, none of the teachers single me out for an introduction as a transfer student. None of the students pay me much attention either. I’m getting used to being ignored.

By the time my English class rolls around, I’m beyond grateful to see two familiar faces—Ronnie and Billie. Unlike June, however, they don’t seem keen on making me feel included. They don’t even acknowledge me as I slide into the desk adjacent to Ronnie’s.

“Hey,” I try.

“Hello,” Billie says.

Ronnie takes a brush out of her purse and runs it through her hair without saying a word. She digs out an eyeshadow palette and a rainbow-handled makeup brush.

Billie takes out her notebook, turns to a new page, and scribbles something across the top of it. Hand-lettering, it looks like. Fancy penmanship stuff. I bet she keeps a bullet journal.

“Have you had this teacher before?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Ronnie says. She doesn’t elaborate.

“Not me,” Billie says. “Doesn’t matter. Heard he’s easy, anyway. Also, it’s English, which we all happen to speak.”

This is probably the most they’ve ever spoken to me, and I’m not sure how to keep them talking. In my earlier classes, I didn’t dare try to even speak to anyone. My nerves got the best of me. Plus, I was too busy making sure I was in the right classroom. This school is too big.

I lean forward in my seat. “I like your glasses, Billie.”

“Thanks, Daisy.”

“It’s Rose.”

She flicks her gaze toward me. “Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

She presses her lips together. “You’re settled in with Charlie then?”

The change in topic pricks my ears. “She say something bad?”

“Not in so many words.”

I look to Ronnie, hoping for some kind of tell. She pulls old receipts and tubes of lipstick out of her purse.

“Charlie’s nice,” I say, and then feel like a giant idiot. Charlie isn’t nice. Anyone can see that, surely even her friends.

Billie quirks an eyebrow. “Is she though?”

“I… no, I guess not.”

I swear to God she smiles. “Haven’t lived with her long and you already get the gist. She’s a right terror. You’re in our thoughts.”

“I’d rather live outside than bunk with her,” says Ronnie. “You’re stronger than I am.”

“Well, so far so good.” I mirror Billie’s smile, hoping I look more comfortable than I feel.

The teacher, a man named Mr. Preston, enters the room and calls us to attention. I spend all of class trying not to look too eager, either to impress the teacher or for friendship, even though I’m starving for both. Once class ends, Billie and Ronnie get up. I start to follow them out when the teacher pulls me aside.

Billie and Ronnie either don’t notice, or they don’t care. I’m not sure which is worse.

“Uh… Rosemary, is it?” Mr. Preston begins. I can already tell from his tone of voice that this won’t be a fun conversation.

“Rose,” I say.

He falters, then forgoes my first name altogether. “Miss Abbott, I wanted to let you know… well, given what happened at your last school…”

Wait, he knows about that? My face catches fire. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss that.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. I just wanted you to know, I’m happily married. And, if you want to make a good grade in this class, you’ll have to work hard, like everyone else. Any… extra credit will be announced in advance and will be open to everyone. During school hours.”

My whole body burns. “Excuse me?”

“I won’t repeat myself. Do you understand?”

All I want is for the ground to open up and eat me. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Have a good rest of your day.”

How can I do that, though, when my teacher insinuated that what happened with Nathan is my fault? That I’m a predatory temptress who lured someone saintly off the straight and narrow?

The rest of my day follows a similar pattern. I have no classes with the other girls, save Charlie in my history class. Relief washes over me when I realize that none of them see the way the teachers here treat me. If it’s any consolation, at least none of the faculty single me out during class.

I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around the idea that news of what happened has traveled over here. Sure, what happened in Salem was local news, but I didn’t think it made it all the way out here. Clearly, I was wrong.

Maybe the faculty have all seen my file.

After my classes, I head back to my dorm room. I pray Charlie isn’t there, but even if she is, it’s not like she’ll talk to me.

Meyer Hall sits sad and empty. Most of the other students must be out in classes, at the library, or hanging with their friends. I get on the elevator and head up to my floor without running into anyone else. While I fish my keys out of my purse, I consider calling my parents. It’s been less than two days, and while they’re not exactly thrilled to speak to me, at least it might be nice to hear a familiar voice.

Then again, if I call them now, it will feel like giving up. Like I’m a scared little girl who still needs her mommy and daddy. I’m not sure I’m ready to give up yet.

When I open the door to my room, Charlie is sitting on her bed. Ronnie, Billie, and June are sitting on mine. Their heads all snap up as they notice me. It might be my imagination, but I swear they all frown.

Ronnie snatches something out of Billie’s hand and holds it to her chest, hidden from me. “What is your roommate doing back here?”

“I don’t know. I thought she was in classes all day.” Charlie shoots me a look, like it’s somehow my fault that she hasn’t memorized my schedule. “Rose, do you mind? We’re in the middle of something.”

It’s the first time she’s gotten my name right, let alone tried to display any semblance of manners toward me, but anger heats my blood. “It’s my room, too. I’m staying.”

Charlie’s eyes narrow. “It’ll just take a second.”

Is she serious? Are they all so self-absorbed they think I’m not offended? This is my room as much as hers. She has no right to kick me out.

I square my shoulders. “I’m taking a nap.”

Ronnie mutters something under her breath. Billie titters. I probably don’t want to know what she said, especially as June won’t look at me or her—or anyone, for that matter. Ronnie is still holding whatever it is tight against her blazer, hidden from sight. What could it be?

I keep my eyes locked on Charlie’s, daring her to try again. Maybe it’s not wise to cross her but they’ve all treated me like shit so far and I just want to crawl under the covers and forget about the day.

Charlie blinks. Ronnie looks to her for guidance, as do the others.

“Fine,” Charlie spits. “Guess we’ll go somewhere else.”

She gestures toward the other girls. Ronnie rolls her eyes, tucks the object she’s been holding into her purse, and heads for the door. June and Billie follow. June shoots me a look so warm, it could almost be sympathetic. Even her sunflower earrings seem to smile at me. Charlie gets up from the bed and glares.

I try my best to ignore her, but she’s not leaving until she says her piece. “What is it?”

“Watch yourself.”

“What?”

From the open doorway, Billie laughs again. Charlie shoots her a look, then returns her attention to me. “You need to work on your attitude.”

Jesus. “You’re the one with the attitude here.”

She clenches her jaw, but she doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she grabs her purse and keys and heads out into the hallway. When the door slams behind her, it rattles the hinges.

I sink down on my bed and flop onto my back, staring up at the ceiling once more. Maybe I’ll never find my place here.

I roll onto my side and stare at Charlie’s bed. It’s unmade, the comforter rumpled from where Charlie sat on it. Her belongings haven’t moved since the movers brought them this morning. Maybe she’s not unpacked yet as some form of protest. Though I don’t know her well, I can see her doing that.

Maybe she hates her parents as much as she hates me.

Keys jangle in the lock, and I sit bolt upright. Charlie rushes in, flushed and anxious. Speak of the devil.

“Forget something?”

“My phone.” She grabs it from her nightstand, pausing to look at the unpacked trunks. “You didn’t touch them, did you?”

If I weren’t so tired, I’d be offended. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would you touch my vial?” Charlie counters.

I bristle but don’t take the bait. I’m too tired to start any more fights with her. One of us needs to be the bigger person.

Charlie checks her latest-model phone, frowns down at something on the screen, and types something out. She mutters a curse. “Gods, I hate boys. They’re so stupid sometimes.”

Surely, she’s talking to herself, right? She can’t possibly be trying to strike up a conversation with me.

I don’t respond. After a second, her gaze flashes toward me, like she’s only just registered she said something to me, someone she hates.

“I’m sorry about your vial,” I say. “I didn’t mean—”

“Charlie!” Billie shouts from the hall.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I continue.

“Don’t worry about it.” Charlie tucks the phone into her pocket and heads for the door. “Thank you.”

Once the door closes, I lie back on the bed. Despite the shitty day I’ve had, I feel a tinge of hope. Maybe Charlie and her friends will come around. If not, I can reach out to other girls, right?

tag list (let me know if you’d like to me removed/added): @lady-redshield-writes @smokescreens-n-otherillusions @cogwrites @nicholewrites @fireflys-locket

#livingston girls #writeblr #writerblr #my wip #my writing

8 notes · View notes

zanybonkcreatorzine-blog · 4 years

Text

Hi anyone, I have been struggling my whole life to stay alive. The way I feel about the world teeters back and forth everyday. With that being said it makes it almost impossible for me to keep going day after day.

My Father went over with the Navy to Iraq when I was 5 and he never came home the same man. My family is whole But i have never felt like I had a father. More like a silhouette man coexisting in my life.

When I was 9 and many impressionable people from my inner family circle passed away. My grandfather passed away a month after I was born, my grandmother from ovarian cancer 9 years later, their daughter- my aunt to brain cancer, and her sister my other aunt to a car crash. My aunts died 2 years prior to my grandmothers death.

Then boom human hormonal phase, from 7th-9th grade full torment from all my classmates. Any name they could think of I got, mind you I went to catholic school, and my 2 best friends were a little peculiar. Years later it turns out my friends are happily dating one another..

As high school rolled around life seemed to become less foggy and more stable but the loneliness, empty feelings and total numbness grew and grew. Unhealthy habits developed mentally and physically as a coping mechanism. I broke up with someone for wanting to just be there, Someone who wanted to stay. It was something that can never be forgiven. I picked up as senior year came around, applied to colleges, went through all the motions.

The summer after senior year I attended a local college 30 minutes from home. As a freshman wanting the whole college experience I opted to live on campus. Upon starting college I broke up with my 2nd boyfriend of 2 years after having to beg him to let me leave. We just were not right for each other. I began speaking to my ex again but later dismissed it for a college boy, never giving him an explanation for it other than I had a new boyfriend. I wanted to be in that clique in college. I wanted to make those amazing memories dreamed about and once freshman year drew to an end I though I had done that. The people I associated with were utter assholes to say the least. They pushed me toward alcoholism and reckless habits. They even placed me in positions of sexual abuse. I picked up habits of smoking, binging, and slacking off on work.

Ding ding ding you’re correct if you guessed that college boyfriend of mine cheated on me.. multiple times, multiple girls. Ding ding ding you’re also right if you guessed that in between all the little fights and final end to the relationship that my ex was there, open arms admitting to loving me still.

The trauma from abuse in my previous relationship and college flashbacks made me feeel helpless. I knew I couldn’t commit to anyone or anything. I took time to myself and eventually enrolled into a trade school. I love the career path I had chosen. I also evemtually caved to the charming and charismatic personality that was my first love. We chose to rekindle our old relationship on one Memorial Day.

For awhile it really did help boost me up. However as of June the year prior I had began seeking a therapist and medication for my mental state. As the summer seemed to be a perfect love story it drew to an end and so did the honeymoon phase. I quickly realized there was someone else in my mans life. A talk was had and the random girl was dismissed. But it happened again.... after a break so he could think and much heart ache on both ends we wanted to keep pushing. Leading to a much more helpful therapist and new medication, severe depression, uncontrollable emotions, no self control, and no desire to leave my bed. After time I pulled out of it. The relationship has since improved and the love is just as strong. It is electrical. But the feeling. they are always there. I feel like all I do is push people away, after drinking or just having a bad day arguments seems to arise with everyone in my life.

To top off the most relevant times of my life, I have lost 3 of my very close friends all one month apart between November- January. My birthday lies in December, it was my 21st birthday.

I lost one of my best friend, I lost the only person who really understood my sadness and could connect with me. He passed 8 days before my birthday. 8 days before we were going to go out and have a blast smoke, drink, and make those amazing memories I had always wanted. Losing him was a blur.v”life goes on” it always did. After everyone that has passed in my life that’s what I’ve always been told. He was a classmate, my boyfriends bestfriend, my coping mechanism. My boyfriend was the one to find him, first thing in the morning after a party. Unknown causes to this day.

All I want to know is how does life go on. I have been able to rough through all other chaos in my life, but without you, I feel so empty. It has been months, losing people as you grow up is eye opening. People you chose to place in your life are just people you are invinting to your funeral. I am 21 years old and I am high anxiety, I am severely depressed and I miss you friend so much. I am doing this for you.

Hello everyone I desperately want to think more positively and try to express myself and the mental illnesses I have in a way I feel comfortable the same way I used to be able to do with my dearly loved angel.

Thank you if you took the time to read this, it’s appreciated! Please reach out share things, follow me, I’m new here, I need friends.

3 notes · View notes

agentbarton12 · 5 years

Text

Sticky Business

AN: so, yeah, i was bored and decided to post this so here we are! also, just in case it wasnt clear, this is a slow burn. like, really sloow. strap in, folks, its gonna be a looong ride.

masterlist | series masterlist

CHAPTER TWO

About an hour later, I was saying goodbye to Mr Torres and promising that I’d visit him tomorrow. I walked out and left for my apartment. I expected to see my mom waiting outside the locked door but the voices I heard from next door were a clear indication that she wasn’t done. Instead, I found a tall and well-built boy in basketball shorts and a loose Lakers jersey hanging off his body, revealing his perfectly toned arms. I swear he wears tanks on purpose.

“Where have you been? I have been waiting here for fifteen minutes,” he said when he noticed me. I brushed him off with a wave and proceeded to unlock the door.

I walked in with him on my heels and watched as he rushed to the bathroom. I chuckled at his childish demeanor and poured myself a glass of water. He came back with an angry look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“Where were you?” he asked reaching for my now empty glass and moving around the counter to fill it again.

I shrugged. “I was visiting Mr Torres.”

“Why?”

“Felt like it,” I said shrugging again.

He pushed no further. He looked around the room and sighed. “Where’s your mom?”

I pointed to the wall separating our apartment and Miss Crux’s.

“Miss Crux?” he asked incredulously. “Why?”

I shrugged for what I assumed to be the third time since I stepped foot in the place. “Spider-Man,” I said as if it explained everything. Apparently, it did not.

“Ah, because that makes sense,” he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the couch and switched on the T.V. “Michelle? I’m talking to you,” he said frustrated.

“You know where to find me,” I called over my shoulder not looking back once. I was too transfixed on the T.V. to notice what was happening. Before I knew, he had dropped his heavy behind onto my lap and was squishing me with his weight.

“Terrance! Terrance, get off!” I screamed hitting his arm. It was no use; those things were like bricks.

“Do you promise to give me your full attention?”

“Terrance, off now!”

“MJ?” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Fine,” I huffed out. “You have my attention.”

“Thank you.”

“Now get off,” I said pushing him off my lap. I crossed my arms in annoyance and blew a strand of my curly hair out of my eyes. I shot daggers at Terrance who was looking over with me a cocky smirk. “What?” I snapped.

“Why’s your mom there?” he asked pointing at the wall behind the T.V.

“Spider-Man asked her to go.”

“How did she run into Spider-Man?”

“She was out on the terrace looking for me when he swung by.”

“Why was she looking for you?”

“I might’ve been on the roof.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow but continued nonetheless. “I thought you were with Mr Torres?” he phrased more like a question than a statement seeing as he didn’t know the details. I could’ve easily lied to him and he’d believe me, but when it came to Terrance, I felt inclined to tell the truth. Sometimes.

“That’s what I told mom after I came down from the roof. I just decided to visit him for an alibi, you know?”

“Wow. Using poor, defenseless men to keep you out of trouble. You are a monster.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I think that is all the honesty I can release for the night, so if you’ll excuse me, I was watching something.”

He raised his arms in defense and walked over to my room. It was silent for a while, just the sound of the voices from the T.V. filling the space, until Terrance broke it with his big mouth. “MJ!”

“What?” I yelled back.

He came out of my room and came around the couch to face me, standing directly in front of the T.V. Again. “You need to stop doing that,” I said gesturing to his body and the T.V. behind him. He ignored me and lifted a pair of shorts that he got from my room. His shorts.

“What did I say about taking my clothes?”

“Don’t,” I admitted.

“So why did you take my shorts?”

I shrugged. Terrance didn’t like that answer. He bent over me, his face inches away from mine. His breath fanning my face. “I’ll steal your sketch book,” he threatened. That sketch book was pretty important to me and I swear if he lays a finger on it I will not hesitate to snap his hand in two.

I kept my face indifferent when I spoke. “You…you smell like…sweat, perspiration and…broken dreams.”

He sighed as he backed away. “Sweat and perspiration are the same thing,” he said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “You’d think that someone going to that school for smart people would know that.

“Oh, I know. I said it thinking your little jock brain wouldn’t catch on. And besides, you sleep in my room, so of course your clothes are going to be in there.”

He flipped me off as he went back to my room, no doubt rummaging through my clothes looking for any other items of ‘stolen clothing’.

Terrance had been living with us since his last year of high school when his mom left for a year long work trip to the Middle East. Seeing as his mom is my dads sister, it made sense for him to live with us until she got back. He slept on the couch I was sitting on until we were able to bring his bed into my room. It was a tight fit, but we made it work anyway.

As the year past, we grew closer; no longer just cousins but siblings. Brother and sister. We kept the bond we had created even when his mom came back, and he went back home. We still had sleepovers and we’d go to the movies together, but ever since his mom found out about my mom and what she did, Aunt Rey wanted nothing to do with us. We never bothered reaching out to her, because we didn’t blame her. My mom was involved in some shady stuff and it made sense that she wanted to steer clear of that. We stayed in our corner and she stayed in hers. The only bridge between the gap being Terrance. He had some knowledge of what had happened, but he wasn’t going to walk away from the relationship we had created.

He came over more and would sleep on the floor in my room. Even though his mother opposed of it, she never said anything because that would require her actually talking to my mom about it. And anything that required talking to my mom, she stayed away from.

It was the second weekend Terrance had spent here since he went back to college. I was glad for his company because, and I will never admit this out loud, I kind of enjoyed having people around me. Select people. People that I liked.

I focused my attention back to the movie that was playing. I wasn’t really enjoying it, but laziness had overridden my distaste and I didn’t change the channel.

My mother walked in not so long after and dropped bags on the kitchen counter. I turned around to see if she had bought food. She had. My mood lifted substantially at the sight of it.

“Michelle?” I heard her call from the kitchen. I murmured in response. “Is Terrence here?” I murmured an affirmative answer. “Cool.”

“Terrance! Mom’s here!”

“Coming!”

Terrance stumbled out of my room not too long after and greeted my mom. He offered to help her prepare dinner, but she shooed him away. He came and plonked himself next to me on the couch. My mom heated up the food in the microwave and brought three glasses of juice and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

When the microwave dinged, my mom brought the food. We sat together and ate, laughing at the movie that was playing. By the time nine rolled around, I went to my room to read after saying goodnight to Terrance and my mom, and I could’ve sworn I felt someone watching me through my window, but I didn’t see anything. I shrugged it off and climbed into bed with my book without bothering to change into my pajamas.

An hour later, Terrance stumbled in looking groggy and gravitated towards the matrass at the foot of my bed.

“Night, T,” I said from my perch.

“Yeah, MJ.”

The sounds of his soft snoring filled the room and I decided to join him in the land of slumber. I switched off the light and pulled the duvet over my head. ~~~~~

Being a loner was harder than it looked.

On the bus ride to school, I sat in the middle row — everyone gravitates to the back to do their…things or the front to avoid the people who are doing their…things — on the chair by the aisle. That way no one will bother asking if they can pass and sit next to me. At least that’s what I was hoping for.

A girl and her oblivious crush asked to occupy the two seats next to me. I’ve been watching them since they were the last people we had to pick up. Riley and Blake, Sophomore’s. When they got on, I did a quick and discrete sweep of the bus to see where all the empty seats were. There were a couple scattered around, but there were none where they could sit together. And I could tell that is exactly what they wanted to do.

I released an inaudible sigh as I realised that the only option for them was to sit together…next to me.

They didn’t seem to want to though. My reputation seems to have spread far and wide. Blake, being the oblivious gentleman, he is, opted to sit next to me. Bad idea.

You see, I had already pegged Riley as one of those groupies. Seeing as Midtown is more of a STEM school, it didn’t really focus on materialistic hierarchies (which is why no one cares about how much money Flash’s family has) but more so on the intelligence level. That doesn’t mean it didn’t have the occasional clique of people who thought the only way to showcase their brains is by making everyone else feel bad.

“She’s got to be kidding,” I heard Riley whisper not-so-discretely to her friend. “She is really wearing pajama pants. Pajama pants, Blake.”

Blake shrugged, glancing over at me ever so slightly. “So? Maybe she’s comfortable.”

“Or, she needs a serious fashion intervention.”

“Not everybody is a denim skirt loving fanatic like you, Riley,” Blake countered sounding a little exasperated.

Riley scoffed at that. “I think she purposely tires not to care, actually caring that she doesn’t care.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Riley.”

“Trust me, Blake. Girls do crazy stuff for attention.”

Blake merely rolled his eyes and stole a quick glance in my direction. I couldn’t tell (yet) if he had some personal struggle in the past when it came to clothing or if he really just wanted Riley to shut up because, duh, I was right there.

I kept my face devoid of emotion and burned my gaze into the chair in front of me. The bus finally pulled up in front of the school and I rushed to get off, not before confronting the Undercover Fashion Police.

I turned to Riley who was starting to get out of her seat. “I’m not looking for attention. You and this whole school just seem to want to give it to me because I don’t want to conform to the social standards of what is deemed ‘normal’ to wear. The same way no one says anything about your obnoxiously miniskirts because you want to wear them, I want to wear my pajama pants. So, you and everyone else can take their unwanted attention and shove it because in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t want it.”

And with that I turned around and got off the bus, leaving a very shocked bunch of students gaping at me.

It didn’t take long for word to travel about the scene I had caused on the bus. Did I care? No. Well, kind of. Did I care that I had caused a scene? No. Did I care that I was now the centre of everyone’s gossip? A little bit, yeah. But my loner reputation didn’t allow me to confront too many people about it. Two annoying girls in the bathroom, okay. A boy in my English class, allowed. A whole cafeteria full of people? No.

The staring didn’t bother me much. While I was eating my stale and sad excuse for pizza, eyes trailed all my movements. It didn’t bother me. I could always shield myself with a book thicker than my head and bury myself in the contents of its pages. And that’s what I did. Despite the thickness of the book, I could still feel a pair of eyes boring into my skull. It was unnerving and the fact that I knew exactly who it was, bothered me even more.

Without so much as a glance up from my book, I turned my head in the direction of the person in question and snapped. “What?” Brown eyes bulged out from their sockets after realizing they had been caught.

~~~~~

Peter was staring. Not Liz-Allan type staring, but creepy-stalker type staring. (Although Ned would argue and say they were the same thing. They weren’t.)

Could you blame him, though? He had just saw one of his school mates in their natural habitat and had to adapt with this knowledge, act nonchalant like he didn’t see them fall off the railing of a roof. Sure, he met a lot of his fellow class mates — sometimes teachers too — when he was out on patrol, but he wasn’t close with any of his class mates (besides Ned) so it was easier to act like it wasn’t him who saved their life. Like it wasn’t him who fetched their cat from a tree, or helped their grandfather cross the street. Because it wasn’t him, it was Spider-Man, and Peter had gotten pretty good at keeping the two separate.

But it was different now. Michelle was different. It was hard for him to act like he didn’t cover for her when her mom was looking for her on the roof the day before. Like he wasn’t worried that she was planning on jumping. Like the sight of her didn’t make him feel nervous about looking cool, because it sure did.

If there was one thing Peter knew about Michelle, it’s that she was a very tough cookie to crack. Really tough. It was hard enough to get her to acknowledge when one of his jokes were funny or when he got something right in AcaDec practices as Peter, but she didn’t know Spider-Man and he sure wasn’t going to ruin her first impression of him by doing something stupid, like staring at her without speaking (oh wait. He did do that. He was doing that right now).

It was worse when he found himself ignoring his usual route home after patrol and swinging in the direction of her apartment, ignoring KAREN’s constant reminder that home was in the other direction. It was even worse when he decided to watch her through her bedroom window. He was pretty sure she didn’t see him, but it was hard to tell. Again, tough cookie.

He didn’t know what time he left but he eventually did. (Keyword being eventually.) He swung back to his apartment and crawled through his window, only with the thought of Michelle sitting in her bed, her curly brown hair free of its hairband.

Telling Ned about it had been the absolute worst part of that day. He wouldn’t stop teasing and offering unhelpful Star Wars quotes as advice. It was in that moment Peter thought that he and Ned should widen their movie viewing spectrum. Ned didn’t like that idea.

But now, in this moment, with Michelle giving him her famous steely glare and pursed lips look, he was unable to form words. He knew exactly what she was talking about. The staring. He was just surprised she didn’t catch on and call him out on it sooner seeing as he’d been doing it the entire day. Then again, the whole school had been too.

“Your words, loser.” Michelle’s monotone voice broke him out of it. He needed to speak. Like now.

“Uh-I-um…”

“Right.”

Peter sighed. She was impossible.

“I like your book,” he blurted out. That was not supposed to happen. He didn’t even know what book it was. Ned and Michelle both seemed to have caught onto this and gave him skeptical looks.

“Dude, you read?” Ned asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I agree with nerdier over there,” Michelle admitted motioning with her book to Ned who was sitting in front of her. “I’ve never seen you with anything that the school didn’t hand out to us, and this,” she held up her book, “was not handed out.”

“Umm…I-uh meant I like how it looks. Yeah, yeah. I meant I like how it looks. Like the cover. It’s cool.” Nice save, Peter. This lie only caused Michelle’s eyebrow to rise higher (if that’s even possible).

“I didn’t know that you found black slaves being tortured and stripped naked purely for the amusement of the white man ‘cool’.”

Dang it. Peter had really just put himself up against a wall. How to get out of this one? “Well, I meant the concept of the cover was c-cool. You know, the-um raw and-and brutal truth of the uh…cover hits home. Like the honesty is super cool.”

That only caused Michelle’s eyebrow to rise even higher (how? Seriously how?). “What home does it hit for you, Parker? Were your ancestors slaves? Taken from the only home they ever knew and forced to raise children that weren’t their own?”

“What? Of course not. I just meant — ”

“ — Dude, shut up.” Thank the heavens for Ned Leeds. He shot Peter a warning look and shook his head. Peter read the signal clearly: Don’t even. Peter saw this look a lot on Ned.

The table was silent as Peter stared at the table and the wall behind Michelle, and the double doors over on his right and well, anywhere besides Michelle’s face.

If he didn’t look at her, it was as good as her not being there, right? Wrong. It was hard not looking at Michelle. It’s not like she wore a sign above her head that read Look at me! (if her scene earlier was any indication) but it was the absence of one that made it impossible for Peter to look away.

His neck hairs were on edge (like they have been since Michelle gave them her attention) and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still watching him. Why? Maybe it was payback for the staring that he was doing, but it felt…different. Analyzing, even.

He heard her release a sigh. “You never answered my question, loser.”

He looked up and saw her giving him an unreadable expression. He glanced over at Ned, but he was no help at all, seeing as he had been watching the whole exchange with an amused grin. Ned raised his arms in defense signaling that this was Peter’s fight and Peter’s alone.

“I-uh-I did. The book remember?” It came more like a question than a statement, which was not what Peter was aiming for. He was trying to be confident, not to reveal too much about how nervous he was, but nervousness was in his DNA.

Michelle gave him a disbelieving look. “You and everyone here knows that is a lie and — ”

“I don’t think everyone knows that — ” Peter interrupted, gaining enough confidence to defend himself even though his attempts were thwarted by Ned’s comment.

“Dude, everyone does.” Guess who finally decided to join the conversation. Peter gave Ned an incredulous look because this was the second time Ned had sided with Michelle and Peter couldn’t tell if it was because he truly agreed with her or if he was just avoiding getting reprimanded. Peter chose to believe the second one.

Michelle regarded Ned with a nod as if to say to Peter, see? Even he gets it.

“Don’t worry, loser, I don’t blame you. I know you were born with this inability to lie and it shows in your everyday activity,” Michelle admitted shrugging. Peter just stared at her, mouth agape.

When Ned reached over and pushed his bottom lip back up, Peter finally collected his words. “W-wha-what are you talking about? I don’t lie every day.” That was a lie. He had lied on three occasions to excuse himself from being late. Peter hated it that Michelle was right.

“Yes, you do. You wanna know how I know?” She rested her chin in hands as she stared at Peter in a challenging manner, daring him to say yes, her book long forgotten. Peter wasn’t able to form words under the intensity of her gaze, so he numbly nodded, afraid and unsure of what he had gotten himself into. If he knew where it would lead, Peter would had said no.

“You are hiding something, Parker. The constant flaking, the unmistakable injuries, your inconsistent excuses, your — spider.”

Peter’s mouth fell open for what seemed to have been the fourth time since lunch started. His eyes were darting out and when he looked over to Ned, he wore similar expression of shock and bewilderment. How could Michelle possibly know? Sure, she was one of the smartest people at school and did have a reputation for sitting silently and watching and observing the lives of those around her, but Peter never thought he’d be the centre of her observations. He was sure that he and Ned were discrete and always spoke in hushed tones when talking about Spider-Man. They were always extra careful about where and when they brought it up — Peter more so than Ned — making sure there were no ears that might put them at risk.

But Michelle was known for being able to fade into the crowd, so it wouldn’t be so farfetched if she had happened to catch them when they were whispering to themselves.

But Peter couldn’t risk another person finding out about his alter ego — he drew the line when Aunt May stumbled into his room with the suit on — so he did the only thing he knew how to. He lied and denied.

“Wh-what I-I-um…I’m not a-uh-a spi-spider? Why would you-uh…why would you think that? Me? A spider? That makes no — ”

“What are you talking about?”

It never occurred to Peter that Michelle might be joking. Why would she? They weren’t friends (at least that’s what he thought), so it didn’t cross his mind that maybe, just maybe she was messing with him. Hoping to reduce him to a blubbering, stuttering mess. If so, mission accomplished.

“Uh, you-uh called me a spider? When you were making your point?” Peter wasn’t sure why he phrased it like a question. It’s like the fact that Michelle questioned him, he was questioning himself. She had that effect on people. Just one look from her could send you in a spiraling pit of self-doubt.

She cocked an eyebrow. Peter was now convinced that her eyebrow had a life of its own and acted whenever it saw fit. “I never called you a spider. I was making my point and then I noticed a spider and informed you about it.”

“What spider?” Ned asked, as scared and worried ad his friend, seeing as Peter was too dumbfounded to speak.

“That spider,” Michelle said pointing at a small creature moving near the sleeve of Peter’s grey hoodie. Peter and Ned released a breath they had both been holding.

Michelle noticed it and Peter hoped that she’d at least give them a break, but Peter knew better than to hope for the best when it came to Michelle. “But calling you a spider wouldn’t be too far from the truth.”

Peter looked for any signs that would inform him if she knew. He found nothing. Just a nonchalant look and a hint of a smirk on her lips, although that could be from the amusement that came with watching him squirm.

Michelle’s eyebrow quirked even higher. “It’s a metaphor, loser. A direct comparison between — ”

“We know what metaphors are, MJ.” Ned deadpanned. “But why would you compare Peter to a spider?” The nervousness in Ned’s voice was so evident, you could hear it from India.

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Please, Leeds. If I wanted to, I could make an entire list about the similarities between your friend and spiders.”

“Prove it.”

The words left his mouth before he could even begin to comprehend what he had just gotten himself into. His eyes widened and he visibly paled. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Peter wished he could time travel and stop whatever cosmic event happened in the past that caused him to be such an idiot.

“Fine.” Michelle shifted her body to face Peter and he swallowed the lump in his throat deep down to the deepest parts of his stomach. “Both Peter and that spider — a wolf spider, pretty venomous, someone should tell a teacher — are both small for their average age. Seeing as Peter is what, sixteen, and still looks like a fourteen-year-old, says a lot, and wolf spiders aren’t known to live quite long — unless they’re female — and the average size is around about thirty-five millimeters, this one is roughly nine.

“Both Parker and the wolf spider are dangerous yet are not known to cause any harm — don’t try and deny it, Parker, your oversized shirts are fooling everybody but me. I know that you and this spider could both easily take Flash down, but that’s just not how you role.

“That was merely a comparison between you and that spider. Not all spiders in general. If it were to be about all spiders in general, we’d be here way longer, and I don’t feel like spending any more time with you guys today.”

She had left both Peter and Ned speechless (major accomplishment) with nothing more than a few words and the casual eyebrow lift. She had returned to her side of the table and had gone back to ignoring their existence.

Peter and Ned shared a glance, and both just shrugged. Before any of them knew what was happening, she had gotten up and was making her way towards the door.

“Michelle,” Peter said to her retreating form. He considered it a minor victory when he saw her slow down and stop. She turned around fully and looked in his direction. He missed the way her eyes glanced down at the table, because it happened so fast it almost didn’t even happen.

Next thing Peter knew, Michelle was screaming in mock fear.

“Aah! Spider!”

She pointed at Peter’s table and sure enough, the spider was there. Everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing and started panicking and running out of the cafeteria. Amidst all the pandemonium, Peter still managed to find Michelle’s figure and what could be a smile on her face. He watched her weave her way through the melodramatic teenagers and exit in a calm manner. (Peter was sure that they were the only three who had even seen the spider.)

He watched until he was sure she had left.

And yeah, Peter was still staring.

| prev | next |

#spideychelle #peter parker #peter x mj #marvel #spiderman #michelle jones #ned leeds #may parker #oc #hoco #sm: hoco #spiderman: hoco #spiderman: homecoming #post hoco

13 notes · View notes

momracha-blog · 5 years

Text

my heart breathed ― kim seungmin

word count : 5.1k summary : it takes several years, a camera and an entire exhibit, curated by one kim seungmin to finally understand what a SOULMATE was. pairing : photography student!kim seungmin / gender neutral!reader note : it’s been a while since i’ve written anything so long so have mercy on me. i’ve tried my best but would appreciate some feedback ?? it’s also heavily unedited so i apologize for weird grammar. yikes. and i discovered i can’t write endings for life, so even more apologies.

I -- soulmates, who ??

you grew up with seungmin, there were no secrets between the two of you. everything was SHARED amongst the two of you -- if one had it, the other must also have it. it wasn’t a surprise for your parents to find items belonging to the other at their home...seungmin and you were each other’s family’s honorary member ( if that made any sense ). you two embodied what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours in perfect harmony...sharing is caring is what you’d say but only if it was with seungmin. when boys teased you about having cooties, seungmin still grasped your hand tightly and stuck his tongue out at the other boys, “only dumb-dumbs like you would get cooties !! y/n !! don’t go near them, you’ll catch their dumb-dumb germs !!”. he always came to your rescue, always stood right by your side ( even if you may be in the wrong ) and defended you. when girls bullied seungmin for having more crayons or drawing better, you didn’t HESITATE to yank some pigtails, “leave minnie alone !!” you would demand, “you’re just jealous because your picture sucks and the teacher will never put it up !!” you continue, sticking out your tongue then go right back to helping seungmin pick up dropped crayons or smooth out crumpled papers... you relied on seungmin as he relied on you ; you kissed each other’s wounds better, protected one another and clung to one another. everyone knew you two came and went as pairs ; if there was ONE of you, the other wasn’t far behind. you two always knew where each other was and would be, as if your minds are connected. your parents said it was probably because seungmin was your SOULMATE, your friends say that maybe seungmin was your long lost twin some long time ago -- both incredulous explanations. whatever the explanation was for how the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle, it didn’t matter to you ; what mattered was that you hoped you got to spend the rest of your life with on KIM SEUNGMIN. your parents never failed to remind the two of you about the one time the two of you pledged to marry one another once you two were old enough and that he would take care of you and make you the happiest person on earth... at the time, you’d scoff because seungmin was your best friend, your brother from another mother...you can’t marry your own family !! if only you knew that life had something else for you.

II -- cliches, niches and cliques

entering high school, another milestone in your life, was both exhilarating and scary but you knew you can handle it if you had seungmin. the first few days were hectic, rushing from one class to another, getting lost in the hallway, making new friends, losing connections with old ones. losing...that was a terrifying word, yet somehow, a few months into the school year, you found a new group of friends and you know seungmin has also found his own niche to meld into, his own CLIQUE to be with. he always invited you to sit with him during lunch, any outings with his new friends, he’d invite you along...he never forgot about you because you were his other half but you always felt like you were intruding. “hey, y/n !! jeongin and the others wants to go karaoke after school. wanna come ?? it’ll be fun, c’mon !! it’s been a while since we hung out !!” “sorry, minnie....i have a lot of homework to do tonight,” -- a lie “c’mon !! we can do homework together later !! i just wanna hang out with my best friend !!” -- it’s different, you think...it’s not just the TWO of you. it’s you and THEM. you feel like you’re fighting a losing battle because seungmin has found other people he wanted to be with. “i really can’t, seungmin. i seriously need a headstart on all this work.” -- you left it at that, not another chance to convince you to go, you just turned to leave. you always knew about seungmin’s love for PHOTOGRAPHY so hearing that he joined the club was no surprise to you. when he first discovered his love of photography, he was always so EAGER to show you the photos he had taken, and that made you feel special. but now, he shows them to anyone that wanted to see, you were no longer FIRST in his list anymore. you tried to find something that interested, something to distract you from the forming loneliness in your heart -- maybe this is your fault, you were pushing him away after all -- but never found any, so you spent many afternoons walking home alone. that was the FIRST time you come to realize that you two were so DIFFERENT, the thought struck you hard. the two of you always thought you were halves of a WHOLE, but high school changed that thought -- you two were as different as two sides of the moon...sociable and fun-loving kim seungmin with quiet, timid you.

III --- puberty hit too HARD

puberty hit like a truck...or at least, you thought it hit seungmin like a truck while you remained the same old ( blegh ) you. he got handsomer as days wore on, you swore each time you see him, your heart skips a beat. you have always loved the way he smiles and laughs, the way his eyes twinkle with mischief...but as he got older, more features filled in and accentuated his visage perfectly. god, how can someone be so DORKY and so handsome at the same time ?! BE STILL, MY HEART !! seungmin is your best friend !! your brother !! your half to a whole. don’t ruin it with your gross imagery. but you will always admit and proudly so, that your best friend was one of the HANDSOMEST in the school, yet you could never work up the confidence in yourself so you resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never be as beautiful as seungmin. “our seungminnie is growing up !!” your mother’s coo at the male. “eomma, please....we’re trying to do our homework !!” “it’s so odd to hear my voice like this...” seungmin frowns, the way his voice was unsteady and cracks every few sentences. sometimes it was DEEP, sometimes it was a bit higher pitched... “you’re gonna be a heartthrob once everything settle down,” your dad chuckles, hand reaching out to ruffle seungmin’s hair. “appa !! enough !! out !! we’ve got homework to do !!” you screeched, was it because you were JEALOUS over what your father said ?? that seungmin is going to get handsomer and handsomer, while you’re just stuck where you are ?? not getting any taller or prettier or whatever that was supposed to happen during puberty ?? insecurity grew in your heart as people flocked to seungmin -- people were starting to notice your best friend more and more, you became an extra in his life. you withdrew more and more...anxiety and upset ate at your mind -- you’re not perfect, not BEAUTIFUL like the photographs seungmin always excitedly showed you. you were a black stain in the perfect world seungmin captures through his viewfinder. you wished the world would forget you, so you got quieter and quieter...you made yourself smaller and smaller. but there was a problem -- SEUNGMIN never forgets you, you were the half to his WHOLE, you were his ‘special’ someone.

IV -- running away ?!

graduation was approaching and that meant it was time to DECIDE on a career, a school to go to. you knew that seungmin was definitely going to a school where he can further his photography career...maybe this was your chance to RUN, hide from him and the stormy emotions in your heart. problem ?? your life was so TIED with seungmin, you couldn’t imagine a day without seeing him ( god, you sound like you have separation anxiety ). you thought you’d always be with seungmin that you never really THOUGHT about what you wanted to do, what interested you. now that sounds pathetic -- you just totted behind seungmin like a lost child, doing god knows what and now you’re stuck. “do you know what you wanna do when you graduate ??” “no....i just, i’m not sure yet.” you admit, this was probably something you should have tried to figure out earlier, not just a few weeks before applications and testings were supposed to happen. “do you ??” you returned the question, not that you needed an answer, you knew what he was going to say. “yeah, i’m applying for photography. i’m hoping i get in but i hear it’s super competitive.” he frowns ( you hate it when he frowns...it doesn’t look good on his face ). “have faith, minnie....you’re the best photographer anyone knows, you’ll get in, believe me.” you declare, despite the bubbling anxiety ( and maybe a slight dislike ), you still wanted to be SUPPORTIVE of him. “you’re right !! who could deny entry to the great kim seungmin anyways ??” he states. god, you wished you had his confidence sometimes....you wished you had a lot of things seungmin had but settled on imagining. that was the last you two spoke about post-secondary school...a part of you was glad he didn’t continue to pry, yet another part of you was BITTER that he didn’t follow up or tried to support you in seeking out your life goals. graduation came and went, and you ended up in the SAME school as seungmin, again -- much to his DELIGHT and your slight resentment. you wanted to get away but you couldn’t -- that night, you come to realize why...in the midst of your storming mind, the pounding of your heart, you realize that you have FALLEN for your best friend ; the how and why, you had no clue but your mother always said LOVE worked in mysterious ways. you blamed the fact that you two grew up together ; that you were mistaking familial love for romantic love. as you fell asleep, you ponder -- does seungmin remember the childhood pledge ??

V -- conceal, don’t feel

good thing about post-secondary ?? the school is SO freaking huge, you never had to worry about not being able to avoid seungmin. bad thing about knowing kim seungmin for so long ?? he knew you well...which meant, he knew just how to always catch you outside of lecture halls when your class ended. he knew where you liked to have lunch ( and always came prepared with your favorites ). even worse ?? you two were ROOMMATES...expected but not welcomed, you had no idea how to avoid seungmin around the flat and you couldn’t say NO to your best friend whenever he wanted to crash in your room to study together. “okay, so we both know that we’re TERRIBLE at keeping on track when we’re studying, so !!” seungmin declares, barging into the room with his laptop in hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder. “you mean you have a terrible track record of procrastinating and slacking off,” you retort. “y/n ~~” he whines unhappily as he promptly settles on the floor next to your bed, “humor me and help me out !! i really need to study, it’s 25% of my marks !!” “okay, okay. fine. but why my room ?? we can just study in the living room....” you huff, watching him make himself comfortable in your room. “your room is bigger and this reminds me of back when we were in high school,” he responds, and you fall silent....a bitter taste forms on your tongue -- high school, the beginning of your agony over your feelings for and about seungmin. you managed to work up a way to cope, to hide EVERYTHING beneath a thinly veiled facade -- saying enough but not everything whenever seungmin asked questions. you know he’s catching on -- the look he gives you ( you almost cracked and told him ), the concerned gestures he takes ( was he pitying you ?? you can’t tell if he pities you or actually cared anymore -- your mind was a dangerous place ). the answer was -- seungmin never forgot the pledge because he never forgets about you and he wants nothing more than to fulfill it ; you weren’t just his best friend but his SOULMATE.

VI -- the crack

were you prepared for the stress that came with school ?? yeah, of course !! it was expected, your parents warned you about it...so did your high school alums. were you ready to deal with that stress, along with your mind and feelings for seungmin that was bubbling forth ?? hell, no. it was just so much, TOO much. you had no idea what to do except CRY. seungmin had a late class that day and you saw it as a CHANCE to finally let loose. you barely held yourself together, seams ready to burst. you gave a hurried good bye to your friends and rushed home, ignoring the looks of concern and surprise on their faces as you grabbed your things and you rushed out the door. the moment you were through the door, you don’t make it to your room and you were on the ground of the living room as the tears began to POUR. sobs shook your tired body, you didn’t bother holding back your cries. as you bawled, you felt as if a WEIGHT was lifted from your shoulders, if you knew that was the case...maybe you should have cried more instead of holding it back. in your bout of crying and sobbing, choked babbling about how sorry you were and how terrible you felt to absolutely no one....you hadn’t received the text from seungmin that his class had ended early and asked if you wanted to grab something to eat...in your incoherent litany of apologies and insecurities, you didn’t hear the front door open and shut and worried steps heading into the room. “y/n, oh my god !! are you okay ?!” seungmin asks, arms immediately finding hold around your shaking frame...worry etched in his handsome face. it hurt to see you cry, how long had you been crying ?? why were you apologizing ?? your heart clenched at the sight of upset on seungmin’s face -- you did this, you made him frown, you made him sad. you don’t notice how your frame fits snugly against his, how he holds you so tenderly as if you’d break but just tight enough to hold you together as you did. all you could do was babble apologies to seungmin about how you were ruining the friendship and how you felt like you were ruining his picture perfect world because you weren’t pretty enough. you don’t notice the way his frown gets continually deeper as you released all your stress and anxiety out to your best friend...he did this. he was a terrible friend, how could he call himself your SOULMATE when he didn’t even realize you were suffering so much ?? how long did you feel this way ?? cursing his own blindness, he never meant to make you cry...of all the times he’s been with you when you needed a shoulder to cry on, this time hurt the MOST. fatigue finally hits you and your sobs diminish to whimpers before your breathing evens out to signal you had fallen asleep, but seungmin never lets you go, he holds you to his chest as he rocks the two of you gently, humming the nonsensical tune the two of you made as children to calm you. “you were ALWAYS pretty enough, y/n. no, you’re beyond pretty...if i didn’t want to keep you to myself, you’d always be the subject of my photos.”

VII -- project discovery

you and seungmin never spoke about your crying spell...you had woke up, still cradled in seungmin’s arms. guilt had washed over you as the boy had slept in an awkward position to make sure you slept peacefully and COMFORTABLY. you left him some salonpas for the aching muscles and treated him to breakfast as a thank you but not a WORD was spoken about what happened. “sorry....you should have just woke me up,” you mumble over your food, having been pushing the tofu around in your bowl. “and risk waking a sleeping bear ?? i know how you’re like when you’re disturbed from your beauty sleep,” he retorts, then he REGRETS. how could he say something so inconsiderate to you after you having told him you felt terrible about yourself ?? he stuffs his mouth full of rice and side dishes to stop himself from saying anything more. “then don’t complain to me later when you’re sore,” you huff, slight annoyance taking to your tone as your attention returned to your food. you wanted to LEAVE as soon as possible, you don’t think you can stand being around seungmin any longer...at least, for the day, you couldn’t stand it if you had to listen to another uttering of harsh words from the photographer. you didn’t notice the look of guilt hanging on seungmin’s features as you barely finished your food before excusing yourself. the two of you continued on with your respective lives ; perhaps after the entire thing, seungmin was finally realizing he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you...he was finally discovering that you were UGLY and didn’t fit his aesthetics. relief and sadness washed over your heart -- relief because it meant you no longer had to avoid him, he’d avoid you, yet sadness because you were going to lose the person that meant the most to you ( your special someone ). it’s okay, you’ll come to terms with it...you did this to yourself, this was your endgame. it’ll be painful but hey, it couldn’t be more painful that that time you broke your arm falling out of a tree as a kid, right ?? ( you recall, seungmin cried HARDER than you did and you ended up comforting him and awkwardly patting his back as you nursed your injured arm in the emergency room ). but, boy...were you WRONG about everything. after hearing how you felt about yourself and ( he hopes he wasn’t misinterpreting ) the feelings you had for him, he was on a MISSION. a mission he had with renewed vigor, he was beginning to lose MUSE because you had become so distant and disinterested, but now, he’s found his inspiration again. he knows what he wants to do for his FINAL presentation at the end of his program.

VIII -- why do you always have a camera ??

much to your dismay, things return to normal...seungmin still sought you out, brought you lunch, made sure you were taken care of. and it seemed that he was doing it more...intensely if you must give it a word. his gestures made your heart skip a beat -- bringing you lunch, buying you coffee...waiting outside your lecture hall to walk you to the next one, if you had a late class, he’d wait until you were done to walk home together. your friends swear that the two of you seem like you were DATING but you denied all claims ( you swore you saw seungmin’s face drop when you said it was impossible for him to like you beyond a sister ). “seungmin’s here again...are you SURE you two aren’t dating ?? this sort of dedication isn’t just sibling love...my own brother wouldn’t even do this.” “we are NOT dating, for the last time !! we grew up super close and we’re tight with one another,” you huff, walking towards seungmin slowly. “ugh, but damn, you’re so lucky...where do i get me a boy like kim seungmin, who’d wait for me outside of class and bring me food or coffee or walk me home late at night ??” she dramatically sighs, irritation floods your heart. “we live together...” you point out. “valid point but he still doesn’t have to wait. if you’re sure you two aren’t dating, mind if i go for him ??” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows. “OW !! WHAT WAS THAT FOR ?!” she screeches when you sock her in the shoulder ( okay, so you were jealous ). “he’d never go for someone as dramatic as you,” you call back, waving dismissively as you bound towards the male. well, if he wasn’t going to abandon you ( thank god ), maybe the two of you can reconcile...patch things up as you slowly put away your feelings. you were willing to try because you knew...it was better to have SEUNGMIN in your life as a friend than not at all. you were going to try, even if it means pretending. you began to notice that whenever you two were together, he always had his camera...and not so subtly training it on you. “what are you doing ?! stop taking ugly photos of me !!” you complain, shoving your hand into his lens to block out your image. “can’t i try to document some memories ?? be nice, i send them to the ‘rents !!” he argues, a valid argument. one he always used whenever you caught him taking photos of you, that or he gives you the excuse that he’s trying to buff up his portfolio with some huge photography word you can’t understand so you’d just ignore him.

IX -- it’s the final countdown !!

last year, senior year....things were starting to get really busy, the two of you barely saw one another. but you two always tried to make time for one another....tried being the KEYWORD. canceled dates, being stood up...it was infuriating and frustrating but what can you do when kim seungmin became the star pupil of his program ?? you were still a NOBODY while seungmin was reaching fame somehow. the thought you had all those years ago strikes you again...the one you had when you were a senior in high school. shoving those thoughts away, you remind yourself that he had PRIORITIES to take care of and you just didn’t happen to be one of them -- that’s fine. you’re supposed to be an understanding, supportive friend, after all. you don’t fail to notice how secretive seungmin has gotten...it’s almost as if he’s trying to keep you out of the loop for some reason. was this it ?? was he finally cutting you out of his life ?? you choke up, you weren’t ready for this ; you convinced yourself that you were but in reality, you can’t part with seungmin...after all...your life was infinitely better with seungmin IN it than out of it. your phone buzzes -- seungmin was calling. shoving aside your uncertainty, you respond with a cheery tone, “i hope you have some expensive chocolates and ice cream to make up for ditching me,” you greet, watching your breath form smoke in the space in front of you and disappear into the sky. “sorry !! i got really caught up with setting up the exhibit, it has to be perfect because the prof said --” “i’m just joking, calm down, dandy boy. i get it. do you want me to get you anything for dinner ??” “uhh...well, i was hoping you’d swing by and give the set up a look-see and give me some feedback. and then maybe we can grab food ??” “are you sure ??” “yeah, but bring me something to drink ?? i think i’m gonna die of dehydration.” “so dramatic. i’ll be there in 15 minutes.” “thanks. love you. bye.” and a beep to signal the end. your heart skips a beat when he said love you. no, he means as a FRIEND, as your BROTHER. thank god, no one was around to see or hear that...because he only just realized what he said when he hung up and his face FLUSHES. did he really just blurt out LOVE YOU as he was hanging up ?? so casually ?? so nonchalantly ?? god, he was EMBARRASSING.

X -- and my heart breathed....

standing in the studio, you felt so SPECIAL...seungmin was letting you see his final project before anyone else. you haven’t gone any further in, waiting for seungmin to come meet you and maybe walk you through it...until you got a text that said he had been called away to deal with some questions his professor had. no issue...that didn’t mean you couldn’t wander the exhibit. you chose a random photo to stop by, your eyes dart to the small caption then to the photo...it was a familiar scenery -- was that the park the two of you first met ?? you two had fought over who got to go on the slide first and ended up going together in an odd tangle of limbs. must be a coincidence...but it was a beautifully taken photo. continuing to walk, you come to realize there was a NARRATIVE with the photos -- wow, seungmin really went ALL OUT with this. a few more photos, you pause in front of a photo with a girl...unsuspecting, smiling...that’s YOU. you feel your breath catch as you looked the the next one. then the next....and the next. YOU were the subject of his photographs, YOU were the narrative. every photo had you in it, whether you were looking at the camera or not and it seemed there were more CANDID photos of you than not -- save for one, the one you had shoved your hand into his camera to stop him from taking photos ( captioned : i could never stop picturing you ). your phone buzzed almost as if seungmin’s realized you were just moving around, all it was was you need to READ the caption, dumbdumb... just before the photo of you, you spot a picture of the living room of your flat, a complete mess...why would seungmin even take a picture of that ?? you read the caption -- jealousy leads to agony, and i’m sorry. you didn’t understand so you continued on. starting with the very first one you had spotted yourself in -- the viewfinder can never do you justice. what does that even mean ?? was it supposed to be sarcastic ?? moving slowly through the gallery, you read the captions...it confused you more and more. just what was the boy trying to get at ?? was your heart clouding your mind by eliciting some sort of HOPE ?? the hope you had locked away after the ‘incident’ ?? turning the corner to the last one, you stare at the blank canvas and empty caption...was it unfinished or not a part of the exhibit ?? but seungmin was never the type to leave things unfinished...almost on cue, you see seungmin walk towards you -- camera in hand -- before he stops a few steps in front of you. “before you say anything. i just...want to know the answer to this question.” seungmin starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “you....uhm...remember....” he struggles. “out with it, seungmin, the suspense is killing me !!” you jest, maybe if you lighten the atmosphere...it would be better ?? or maybe you just wanted him to tear off the bandage quickly so you can go home and have another cry. “you really aren’t the romantic type, huh ??fine, i want to ask you if you...would still like to honor the pledge we made when we were kids,” he said, spoken so quickly it sounded like a RUSH of air. “what ?? the pledge ?? you mean the one when we said we’d marry each other, get a house together and you’d make me the happiest person on earth ??” “yeah, that one and you missed the one where i said i was gonna take care of you...though, i kinda already failed, considering i made you cry a while ago...” “you didn’t make me cry. i made myself cry.” “no, i made you make yourself cry. shut up, i’m tryna confess here.” he shushes, and so you do. lips pulling taut as you wait, anxiously...but you know what he’s going to ask, and you know what you’re answer is going to be. “would you allow me....to renew that pledge, honor it and maybe...uhm...let me...stay by your side ?? forever ?? and let me show the world just how BEAUTIFUL you are ??” he scratches the back of his neck, “no, wait. that wasn’t...i had something better,” you didn’t wait for him to amend his question or confession or whatever it was because you knew what he was going to ask. you knew him like the back of your hand, you knew him so well that he never had to VOICE his thoughts and you’d know what he’s thinking. you closed the space between the two of you, practically throwing yourself at the boy...stumbling with him when he tries to balance himself from the force of your tackle. “i can’t believe...even after all these years and a crying spell, you still had to ASK, kim seungmin,” you murmur, your heart was pounding so loudly, you were sure he could hear it too. “well, i’d like to be SURE, you know ?? you’re a little hard to read these days and that’s probably because i’ve been a terrible person and i just...” you cut him off mid-ramble. “yes. yes....please. there’s no place else i want to be than right beside you,” you mumble against his shoulder as one arm came to wrap around your waist as the other cradled the camera, “thank god. i was gonna die if you said NO and that i misinterpreted everything because you told your friends that there was no chance we were dating and you were really distant and you just --” you remembered that when seungmin was nervous and anxious, he tended to talk TOO much. your first kiss, your first love, your first photo exhibit....seungmin’s your FIRST, ALWAYS, and FOREVER. it may have taken a lot of pain and struggling but in the end it was worth it because you were right where you needed to be, fate had your place saved right next to kim seungmin, world famous photographer to be.

the final photo in the exhibit, a favorite amongst romantics, was the FIRST hug you had with seungmin in years, the first one you two had as your relationship began ; you didn’t quite like it because of how CLOSE it was ( how did he even manage to sneak that photo ?? he never told you but you didn’t care...he’ll tell you eventually, he was terrible at hiding secrets from you ) but you also loved how he managed to capture a moment of JOY and happiness in just one photo -- AND MY HEART BREATHED, FINALLY.

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kim seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios

82 notes · View notes