#represents me when i’m smal

[peachdearest]

haiii sorry it’s been a while!! places down a pubby boy moodboard for you..

[ylangelegy]

unknown / nth ⭐ minghao x reader.

your boyfriend gives you a language lesson before bed.

★ minghao x translator/interpreter!reader a.k.a the lost in translation couple ★ word count: 1.9k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, conversation about mandarin (my reference). takes place post-lost in translation! not entirely necessary to have read the fic prior to this. title is from hozier's song of the same name. not proofread. ★ footnotes: minghao did a brief weibo live and i've been missing lost in translation for quite some time now, so i jammed this out really quick 🚬🦆 may write more for/about this couple in the near future, so take this as the first of many! ♡

“I think Cold Love really represents me well. It’s probably because I’m an INFJ.”

You press your palm to your mouth to stifle your laugh. Minghao doesn’t react visibly, but his hand waves at you off-camera. A wordless reminder of Be nice. 

The two of you are across the room from each other— him, perched on the couch of his hotel room, while you’re already tucked in bed. Minghao had promised his fans a quick Weibo live to discuss his most recent EP, leaving you to your own devices for the next hour or so. 

You didn’t mind. It was one of life’s simple joys, listening to your boyfriend talk. 

He spends the next thirty minutes or so discussing his creative process and answering fans’ questions. You don’t bother him, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world later to tease him for some of his remarks. Like his indignance at growing taller or his jabs at his age. 

As you busy yourself with mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you relish in the familiar sound of Minghao’s Mandarin. It’s probably your favorite version of white noise, really. The mellow tone of his voice contrasts the rapid, sharp way that he speaks. Despite being well-acquainted with the language, there are still some words that elude you. You make a mental note to ask Minghao about them later. 

Less than an hour has passed before you hear Minghao beginning to wind down. “Good luck on all of your exams. To the people working, keep working hard! Make lots of money,” he says hurriedly. “And good luck with love, too. I hope you all find someone who loves you back so you can experience all sorts of feelings.” 

He’s never been the type to drag out his goodbyes, so you’re not surprised when— after a final heart sign and wave to the camera— Minghao is finally clocking out of his live. 

Immediately, he slumps back onto the couch like the whole thing had drained him. Sure, lives weren’t necessarily one-sided, but he did have to hard carry when it came to the talking part of the affair. You flash him a sympathetic smile as you sit up in bed. 

“Done, xīngān?” you call out. 

Minghao doesn’t respond right away. You don’t hold it against him. He sometimes needed a moment, needed a minute or two to pull himself together. 

After staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever, Minghao lets out a shuddering exhale. “Done,” he responds, and he’s moving before you can register it. 

He gets to his feet and crosses the room in a few, quick strides. Once he gets to the bed, he wastes no time in reaching for you. His knees sink in the mattress; his hands dart out. 

You let out a slight squeal when Minghao tugs you into him. 

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. This had been a premeditated act. You can tell in the way his arms immediately snake around your waist. 

You let out a defeated sigh against his chest, but make no move to pull away. “Tired?” you ask, your hands resting on the small of his back as you return his embrace. 

He hums a quiet ‘mhm’. “I’m not built for this anymore, xīngān,” he whines. 

The two of you know that’s a bold-faced lie. Still, you indulge your sulking boyfriend lest he begin to pout even harder. “My poor baby,” you coo, running your hands up and down Minghao’s back in a show of comforting him. “Gonna blame it on being an introvert?” 

“Shut up.” 

You let out a small laugh. You can’t see it, but you swear you can feel the curve of Minghao’s smile as he presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head. 

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “It means a lot.” 

A part of you wants to insist that it’s nothing. It’s not every day that you can steal away to his hotel room, though. In between your own work of interpreting for the boys and working on subtitles for videos, there’s also the added layer of keeping your relationship on the down low. 

Tonight, Minghao had just tried to asked. Texted a couple of hours ago that he wanted to see you. And you could never really deny him anything, not even on your best days. 

“Anything for you,” you respond as you stroke the short hair at his nape. 

Minghao buries his face in the crook of your neck, his smiling mouth warm as he mumbles against your skin. “Don’t give me that much power,” he warns. “I’ll abuse it.” 

You chuckle. “I don’t doubt that.” 

The two of you lapse into another bout of quiet. This had always been your way, even back when the two of you were friends: Comfortable silences, unspoken agreements. Your new relationship had only given you two the carte blanche to be a little more touchy during your shared moments of peace. 

You’re fairly sure that Minghao has fallen asleep when he speaks up again. “How do you think I did?”

“With the live?” 

“No, with cuddling. Yes, with the live.” 

“Ask nicely.”

“Please?” 

You put Minghao out of his misery by returning his earlier gesture— leaving a quick kiss, this time to the line of his jaw. “Stellar as usual,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pick up on everything, though.” 

“That’s new.” Minghao shifts around on the bed until he can prop himself up on one elbow. He rests his chin in his hand but doesn’t stray too far. He stays hovering over you, his free arm remaining around your waist. 

He goes on to goad, “Your Mandarin must be getting rusty.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “How can it be rusty,” you retort, slipping into the language as if to prove a point. “When you’re always insisting that we use it?” 

No matter how many times that you speak to him in his mother tongue, Minghao always seems momentarily startled. The surprise always fades into affection, evident in the fond way that he gazes down at you. 

He matches your code switch without missing a beat. “I’ve told you, haven’t I? I love it when you speak Mandarin,” he says, punctuating his words with a quick pinch to your side. 

You swat his hand; he giggles down at you.

“Which parts did you miss out on?” he asks. 

It takes you a moment to recall the terms and phrases you’d wanted to question him about. “撒娇?” you ask, the unfamiliar word sounding almost hesitant on your tongue. Sājiāo.

A thoughtful ‘ahhh’ escapes Minghao. “Think of it like aegyo,” he offers delicately. “It’s— often in the setting of a relationship. Acting cute to be endearing.” 

“Like when you gripe about me not responding fast enough.” 

“Examples aren’t necessary,” he says wryly. “But, yes. Like that.” 

You flash Minghao a grin before snuggling a little closer to him, entangling your legs. The added touch makes his expression softens in the way it only ever does when it’s you. 

“Anything else?” he prompts. 

It’s not everyday that Minghao gets to play the ‘teacher’ role in your relationship. In the beginning, you had been his Korean tutor. In the longer run, you had helped him translate and transpose words that he couldn’t reach. Every so often, you would run to him for some Mandarin help, and you could tell that he relished in the shift in dynamic. 

The thought pushes you to keep asking, even though the words are inconsequential. “You used the term 暖男,” you note. “What was that one?” 

“Nuǎnnán,” he echoes, correcting your intonation. You repeat the word as he said it, and he gives a small smile of approval.

“It’s our version of ‘nice guy’,” he explains. “But it’s rooted a lot in culture. A nuǎnnán is a man who can be considered inherently warm-hearted in an otherwise patriarchal society. And no—” Minghao’s tone takes on a more chiding quality when he sees you about to interrupt. “Do not try to call me a nuǎnnán.” 

You jut out your lower lip slightly. “Why not?” 

The arm that Minghao had around your waist rises, just enough so he can tap the tip of your scrunched nose. “Don’t pull out sājiāo on me,” he scolds. 

It’s not necessary for you to act cute. Your boyfriend would be endeared by you either way. 

You chuckle at being caught, and Minghao’s sternness mellows. “One last.” You hold up a finger as you try to nail the phrase that had first caught your attention. “裸婚?” 

There’s a flicker of surprise on Minghao’s expression. “That was from a fan making a joke,” he warns before repeating the word himself. “Luǒhūn translates to— hear me out, okay?— ‘naked marriage’.” 

The sight of your raised eyebrow draws a sharp laugh from Minghao. “It’s another one of those cultural things,” he says. 

When he doesn’t add onto his words, you shoot him an incredulous look. 

“What?” he asks with feigned innocence.

“That’s it?” you prod. “You’re not going to explain what ‘naked marriage’ means?” 

“You have access to the internet, don’t you?” 

“Xīngān.” 

“That’s me.” 

At Minghao’s continued evasion, you merely huff and give up. It’s getting late, anyway, and he has to be up early in the morning for sound check. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to slip away before anyone can come looking for either of you. The boys aren’t privy to your relationship yet, and God forbid any of the other staff find out.

“Fine,” you say, unable to resist the urge to just be a little haughty. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

Minghao is undeterred by your contempt. If anything, it only makes him smile a little wider, gives him an excuse to pull you into his chest. He goes to cradle the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. 

You lean into his touch, burying your face into the front of his shirt. There it is again. Those few, precious moments where the two of you can just bask in each other’s presence. 

The silence stretches on this time. You’re properly drowsy by the time Minghao speaks up, his words quiet as he mumbles them against your shoulder. 

“No house, no car, no fancy ring,” he murmurs, his tone contemplative and sleepy. “Luǒhūn.” 

“A naked marriage,” you respond mid-yawn. 

“Mhm.”

“Nothing but love.” 

“You got it.” 

The conversation feels like it’s teetering on the verge of something consequential, something of value. But with the two of you already halfway asleep in each other's arms, there’s not much you can do besides exchange some light pecks and mumbled words.

“I think I’d want at least a house before getting married,” you say. “Or, like, an apartment.”

“What, you wouldn’t live out on the streets with me?” he teases lowly. 

Your eyes flutter close. “You would have to convince me,” you shoot back. 

Minghao responds with a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

“How long will it take to convince you?” 

It’s a little too early in your relationship for the topic of marriage to be seriously brought up. It’s fun to dream about, though. To talk about in hushed tones, to toy with in Minghao’s mother tongue. 

To imagine a time where this might be your every night— falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

“Might take you years and years,” you answer, a giggle rising from the back of your throat. 

Minghao’s arms shake as he laughs. His lips stay on your head, almost like he can’t bear to peel away from you for a minute too long. 

“I don’t mind,” he says as the two of you begin to succumb to sleep. 

The last thing you hear is his affectionate, soft promise of, “I’ll start working on convincing you, xīngān.” 

[creative-universe]

The Hellhound: To Hell And Back (part 2) (Jordan Parrish imagine)

A/N: In case you missed it, here is the first part of this story. Enjoy !

The police sirens reverberated through the streets as several cars parked around the pack. The officers, the coroner and even forensics were already rushing into the house.

« Hey dad! » Stiles greeted his not so happy father as he walked to them.

« Why am I not surprise to see you here ? » He ironically responded.

« If it brings any comfort, we didn’t really plan to find a dead body tonight » His son added, grinning at the end of his sentence.

« Can you please stop saying ‘’dead body’’? » Y/N told Stiles.

He gave her a comforting smile before turning to his father.

« Before you ask, we don’t know what happened. We just found her. »

« Anything supernatural I should know about ? »

« Probably, but we’re not sure yet » Scott answered.

The Sheriff took a look behind the boys. Y/N was still shaking, she could not keep her eyes focus on anything and she seemed ready to collapse any second now.

« Is she alright ? » He asked.

Scott pursed his lips, taking a step toward the policeman.

« She’s been through a lot tonight, could we … could we give you our deposition tomorrow so we can take her home ? » He spoke.

« Under any other circumstances I would’ve said yes, but I’ve got a dea… » He stopped when he saw Y/N picking at his words. « … A body and a couple of kids who found themselves in a house where they shouldn’t have been. »

« C’mon, dad, seriously ? » Stiles complained.

« I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to ask you to come with me to the station »

« Could we just bring Y/N home first ? » Lydia asked.

The Sheriff hesitated. He looked at the kids then turned back to his officers.

« Is Parrish here yet ? » He demanded.

Y/N instantly raised her head, the familiar name alone bringing her comfort.

« Just arrived, Sir » One of policeman answer.

Before he could ask them to call him, he saw his deputy urgently getting out of his car, not even in his uniform, and rushing to the pack. He didn’t acknowledge his boss, or even the teenagers around him, but just went straight to what mattered the most to him, Y/N.

« Are you alright ? » He frankly asked, checking for any sign of physical injury.

She faintly nodded.

« What happened ? » He inquired, turning to Scott for an answer.

« We were getting there » The Sheriff told him. « Where is your uniform, Parrish? »

« I’m sorry, Sir. I … I forgot. »

« You forgot ? » He raised an eyebrow.

« I just rushed to my car when I heard the call on the radio. »

The Sheriff seemed to ponder his answer before he turned to Scott.

« You three » He began, pointing at Lydia, Stiles and the alpha « You’re coming to the station with me. And Parrish ? »

« Yes, Sir ? »

« Get the girl to her house. She look like she’s seen a ghost »

« That’s an understatement » Stiles muttered, earning a small punch from Lydia. « Ouch! »

« Shut up! » She told him in the same tone.

Stiles rolled his eyes, already on his way to the jeep. Before leaving, Scott and Lydia both turned back to their friend, wanting to make sure she was alright.

« Everything is gonna be okay » Scott assured her, patting her shoulder.

From anyone else, she surely wouldn’t have believe them, but she knew her alpha and trusted him with her life. She thanked him with a nod before he left to join Stiles in the jeep.

« I’ll come tomorrow » Lydia told her.

« I’m sorry I scarred you » The young girl whispered.

« Honestly, I’m just glad you were not hurt »

She kissed Y/N’s cheek and turned to Parrish.

« You better take good care of her »

« You know I will, Lydia » He promised. « Thanks for calling me »

The girl nodded, ignoring the persistent look her friend was giving her.

« You called him ? » She asked, more aggressively than she intended to.

« You’ve been through a lot, Y/N » Lydia explained. « Just for a couple hours, allow yourself to stop overthinking everything and let him be there for you, okay ? »

She didn’t answer, only rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

« Good. » The red hair smiled. « I’ll see you guys tomorrow »

And with that she left. The atmosphere was awkward, she didn’t dare to speak and instead followed Parrish to his car in silence. They didn’t talk. For the five minutes the drive lasted, they kept starring straight ahead. She couldn’t stop thinking about the girl she saw. Was she really a ghost ? What was she trying to say and why did she scream ? There were so many questions rushing inside her head.

« Y/N … » Parrish gently called.

They had stopped for a couple minutes but she hadn’t notice, so engrossed in her own thoughts.

« Are you alright? » He asked.

« Yes… yes, I’m fine »

« You don’t look fine »

She pursed her lips and got out of the car without a word. As she walked to her house, she realized he wasn’t following. He was still behind the wheel, watching her.

« You’re not coming ? » She said.

« I’m not sure I should » He answered.

He cursed at himself when he saw the look of hurt crossing her face. Instantly, he opened his door and walked to her.

« It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N. But you didn’t seem happy about Lydia calling me » He explained. « You’ve had a rough night, I’m not gonna stay if that’ll make you feel even worse »

She starred at him, trying to hide her smile before finally raising her arm toward him.

« C’mon » She just said, silently inviting him when she opened the door.

He didn’t waste any time and grabbed her hand, following her inside. He made no move when she walked to the kitchen, taking her jacket off and tossing it on a chair. He simply watched as she got two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

« Tea, coffee or alcohol ? » She asked.

« Coffee, please. » He answered. « … Should you really be drinking ? »

She rolled her eyes.

« Rough night, I deserve a drink »

He pursed his lips, not wanting to add anything that’ll make her angry. Finally, he went to sit on one of the kitchen stool. She kept herself busy, giving him her back. She looked stressed, almost scarred, and while she didn’t notice her composure fading, Jordan did. He worriedly kept his gaze on her, trying to read into her expressions.

« Y/N … » He called.

She didn’t answer, but instead kept working on making his coffee. He sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be easy. He got up, walking to the teenager. He could have put his hand on her shoulder, a small sign of his presence for her, a sign that didn’t represent at all what they meant to each other; but instead, his hand went to her waist as his chest got closer to her back. This was the closest they had been and both of them were savoring that proximity.

« Are you alright ? » He whispered in her ear.

She tried to ignore him, fixing the coffee machine instead until he put his other hand on top of hers in an effort to make her stop. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the feeling of having him so close, of feeling safe for the first time that night.

« Talk to me » He said.

She unconsciously leaned back against his chest, seeking comfort.

« I’m scarred » She admitted.

He squeezed her hand, silently showing her he was here.

« What happened ? »

They stayed in the same position as she told him what had happened. She closed her eyes as she remembered the girl, alive to her but oh so very much dead. She could practically still hear her, feel her pain, her loneliness. She had tried to say something, to reach out to Y/N but all the girl could remember was her scream. She sounded terrified.

« I just don’t get it, Jordan » She said. « What is happening to me ? How did I saw all that ? »

« I don’t know » He answered.

« Do you think something’s wrong with me ? » She muttered as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

He took a step back and grabbed her wrist to make her turn toward him.

« Hey, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Y/N » He vehemently told her, looking right at her.

He sighed when he saw how unconvinced she looked. He closed his eyes for a moment, going against his best judgment, and put his hand against the skin of her face. Stroking her cheek, with all the kindness he could mustered, he kissed her forehead.

« We’re going to figure it out » He promised.

« You don’t know that »

« I know I trust you. I trust us. There’s nothing this team hasn’t been able to overcome » He reassured her.

« Thank you, Jordan »

« I’m just doing my job »

He knew he had said something wrong when he saw her pursed her lips. She took a step back, reaching for the small cup of beverage she had prepared and silently handed it to him.

« Your coffee, deputy » She stated.

« Y/N… » He tried to apologize.

« You don’t have to stay. » She told him while busying herself behind the kitchen counter. « Nobody’s after me, I’m safe here »

« I don’t think you should stay alone tonight »

« As soon as the guys get back from the station I’ll ask Lydia to come »

« It might take a while »

« I’ll manage on my own until then »

He didn’t try to arg, he knew it would be useless. Whatever he had said to make her upset, he couldn’t take it back now and she fully intended to make him regret his words.

« Do you really want me to leave ? » He asked, almost fearing the answer.

« No, I don’t » She truthfully stated. « But I’m not a job you need to get over with, I’m not some cases you’re trying to solve. Nor am I a responsibility you need to carry »

« I never implied any of that »

She didn’t answered, remembering his words. She was too tired to have that argument with him. They had been there too many times, she had tried to make him admit his feelings on countless occasions.

« You’re relieved of your duty, deputy. You can go now. »

She didn’t wait for an answer and left the room. Shaking her head as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she convinced herself she had experienced enough in one night to be bothered by that interaction. It would have been too much to process all at once. She would deal with Jordan and her feelings for him, but not that night. It was when she climbed in her bed that she noticed the small light outside her window. She took a quick look and saw the deputy in his car, still parked in the alley. He hadn’t left. Sitting inside the engine, he was guarding her house, he was protecting her. She smiled when she saw he, too, was getting sleepy. She almost felt guilty to have kicked him out of her house. She stayed a while against her bedroom’s window, just watching the man, before she felt her phone buzzing next to her. It was a text message, from the deputy.

‘You can sleep now, I’m not going anywhere’

It was all the assurance she needed. She let herself fall back on her bed, closing her eyes, savoring the moment of peacefulness. She knew the day that would follow would not be easy. Questions to answer, leads to follow, worry to have. That full night of sleep would probably be the last one she’d have for a while.

She woke up a couple hours after that by a noise downstair. Somebody was in her kitchen and she knew it wasn’t Jordan. He wouldn’t have come back without her knowing. She got up, slowly, and grabbed the baseball bat Stiles had offered for her last birthday. Trying not to make any noise, she walked down the stairs, hands grasping tightly the weapon.

« Geez, what are you doing with that, Y/N ? » She heard not far from where she was.

Instinctively, she screamed in fear, dropping the bat, the sound of it reverberating inside the house as it touched the floor.

« What the hell, Stiles ! » She shouted at him when she noticed who it was.

The teenager smirked, amused by her reaction. He walked past her, picking the weapon up on his way.

« Told you it’d be useful » He simply said.

She rolled her eyes, annoyed, and turned around. Lydia was fixing breakfast in the kitchen while Scott sat on the couch, researching something on a laptop.

« What are you guys doing here ? » She asked as she sat on one of the stool.

« Making sure you’re okay » Lydia answered, putting a fresh cup of coffee in front of her friend.

« And accessorily trying to find out what happened yesterday » Stiles added.

Lydia pursed her lips, glaring at him in a non-so subtle way.

« What ? » He told her, a pancake halfway in his mouth.

The ginger-haired girl shook her head at his childish behavior. Scott, still on the couch, got up and joined his friends.

« How are you feeling ? » He questioned Y/N as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

« Better. Still not fully understanding the situation, but less on edge than yesterday »

« That’s good. » Scott nodded. « They kept us pretty late at the station, otherwise we would’ve come back earlier »

« It’s fine, guys »

« By the way, wasn’t Parrish suppose to stay with you ? » Lydia inquired.

« Yeah, what happened exactly ? » Stiles added, crossing his arms on the counter right next to her.

« What do you mean ? » Y/N pretended not to understand, sipping on her coffee.

« Don’t play dumb with us » He smiled. « The guy was asleep in his car when we got here »

She knew there was no way she was avoiding this when she saw three pairs of prying eyes on her.

« Okay … » She sighed. « I might have … kicked him out … last night »

« Ouh, rough » Stiles joked before his friend kicked him playfully in the ribs.

He laughed it off before grabbing a plate and filling it with pancakes.

« What did he do ? » Lydia asked.

« Said something he probably regret » She shook her head.

« He stayed in his car all night to keep an eye on you » Scott told her.

« I know… It’s … it’s complicated, guys. » She explained. « I don’t want to talk about it. What happened at the station ? Did you find anything ? »

« We know who that girl was » Scott answered.

« Her name’s Anya Scortley » Stiles continued. « She was a junior at Beacon Hills. Ring any bells ? »

« Not at all. »

« She didn’t live in the neighborhood where her body was found. Her parents have been notified last night. They came to the station »

« It was heartbreaking » Lydia commented.

« They didn’t even know she wasn’t in her bedroom. They have no idea what happened. But she has a little sister, and she didn’t seem that surprised by the news »

« Do you think she’s involved ? »

« Can’t be sure for now » Scott explained. « What we need to figure out first is what you saw »

« What do you mean ? »

« We don’t know what’s happening to you yet, but maybe figuring out what you see will help us understand what you are »

« What I am ? » She repeated.

« Honey » Lydia carefully stated. « Normal people don’t have vision of dead people. Maybe it’s something that happened to you, or maybe something you were born with. We don’t know yet, but we do know there is something. You are something »

« Something else than human »

« Something more » Scott corrected.

He reassuringly smiled at her.

« Whatever it is, we are going to find answers » He promised her.

« But the only way to figure out what happened to that girl right now, is through you » Stiles said.

« I … I don’t know if I can » Y/N carefully answered.

« Close your eyes, and try to remember » Lydia encouraged her.

The teenager took a deep breath, already knowing she wouldn’t like the next couple of minutes.

« How ? » She fearfully asked.

« Forget the pain you felt. Let your brain go back there without apprehension. Think about blank pages, about writing her story. Moment by moment, write what you see, what she felt. »

Y/N slowly closed her eyes, trying to follow the instructions her friend gave her.

« I heard a voice first » She started. « I thought it was the wind until I realized it sounded like someone was whimpering. I felt cold and scared and it felt like … like those feelings were not mine. The more I focused on it, the more my head was hurting. And that’s when I saw her »

« What was she doing ? »

« Nothing. She was just standing there, pointing at the empty house. She looked at me and disappeared. When I looked back, she was in front of the house. I tried to get closer, and that’s when she started to scream. It was like … it was more than pain. She was in agony .. and I … I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. Almost like someone was stabbing me »

« Did you notice something else ? Maybe in her appearance ? »

« Hm .. she had … she had marks on her wrists. Scars. There weren’t knew. I saw it when she raised her hand toward the house. Bruises too, around her neck and on her arms. She was awfully pale and I swear she muttered something to me, but I can’t make out the words. I think it was a name. She said it with so much fear »

She opened her eyes, shivering at the memory.

« That’s … that’s all I remember » She told her friends.

« This is more than enough, Y/N » Scott reassured her.

« Is that how she died ? Stabbed ? »

« Yeah, every detail you gave were right on point » Stiles answered. « On a scale of basic to creepy, we’re on a solid what the fuck »

« Geez, thanks for the reminder » She rolled her eyes.

« What do we do ? » Lydia asked, turning toward their alpha.

« For now, we go to school. If she was a student there, that’s a good place to start » He informed them. « After class, we’ll go back to the station. See if they know more »

« Why do I feel there is more » Stiles added. « We have to go back to the house, tonight » Scott told them.

« I was hoping you wouldn’t say that » Y/N made a face.

« We might have missed something the police didn’t see » Stiles agreed with his best friend.

« Everything’s gonna be fine, don’t worry »

« That’s the problem, Scott. I have a feeling something’s gonna go terribly wrong »

Tag list: @callie-bear15​ - @dark-night-sky-99​ - @unicornsxfandoms​ - @dempseyislife​​

[themadauthorshatter]

WHAT TIME IS IT!?

NOT angst time, if anything we're an hour past that now.

IT'S FLUFF TIIIIIIIIIIME!!!!!!

This does feature a younger, slightly new born Virgil being introduced to the "dark sides," so prepare yourself! Roman and Remus are already separated, King Creativity and Orange are their own characters, don't worry one of them will have a name😉

No one expected it, expected a small, dimly colored baby to appear in their own homage of the main room Thomas and the core sides met in, clad in a small onsie and barely having hair on his little head.

The three grown sides and the royal with them approached him carefully, the infant staring at them as he nibbled on his fingers.

Janus tilted his head to the side and the child copied the action. He stuck out his tongue and the child giggled.

"You're a really little one, aren't you?" The yellow side asked as he picked up the new side. "I wonder what you represent?"

"Janus," Remus cringed, "no. No. Don't play the dad in this. That's Patton's job."

"He has a point, regardless," the orange side admitted. He stood at Janus's side as he ran a hand through the child's hair, letting the boy hold his finger. He smiled as the baby teethed on him.

"Eat him, kid," urged Remus. "Bite his finger off."

"Majesty, are sides usually born like this?"

"They are, but..." The tallest side noted the shade of the onesie and the light grey half moons under his eyes. He quickly pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and dampened it on his tongue before wiping gently at the half moons, his curiosity increasing as they stayed where they were. "Not this dark of a side so young. The last time a side like this was born was logic."

"Maybe he represents problem solving," Janus shrugged as he turned to the now wide eyed, curious side. "Is that what side you are?" He asked sweetly. "Are you problem solving?"

The baby put a hand to the snake half of Janus's face, intrigued by the cool, smooth scales the opposed warm skin.

"Aren't you a curious little one?"

Remus groaned as he flopped onto the couch, giving the king a "gag me" gesture.

"He can't be curiosity," the orange side stated as softly as he could, gesturing to the dark clothes and half moons. "Maybe he's...fear?"

"Only one way to find out," Remus beamed as he shot to his feet.

Janus held the child close to his chest as the green side pranced forward.

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing." Remus's blatant smile and wild eyes made Janus back away slightly. "You really don't believe me, bananaconda?"

"If all due respect, I do," Janus hissed.

Remus flared his nostrils as he glared back at him. "Don't use that shit on me, Deceit."

"Gentlemen, language infront of an infant," the royal chided. His eyes wandered to the now nervous baby, taking the orange side's words into consideration. "Put him down for a second."

"But-" Janus choked as Remus cheered, "Yes!"

"Antonius, he's just a baby. You can't let him-"

"It's just to see what he represents."

"But-"

Antonius glared at him, silencing him immediately.

Janus bit his lip and put the baby on the couch, the infant whimpering as he back away.

"He'll stop Remus before he does anything extreme," the orange side murmured.

Janus's eyes locked on Antonius, who watched Remus. The two were similarly dressed, but the king's outfit was far more extravagant, the shoulder pads having golden tassels draping just off the edges, the small ropes the size of Janus's middle finger. His suit was trim and hugged his body perfectly, every curve and angle, much unlike the Duke's outfit, which left room for comfort more than form. His Majesty was adept with maintaining his powerful appearance and power in general, especially amoung the sides he was surrounded by, keeping them on leashes as if they were dogs, even though he let them run free quite often.

Janus bit his lip. Don't let Remus hurt him, he willed.

Remus crouched infront of the baby, who instantly wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Too much deodorant, Dukey."

Remus scowled at the orange side's words, the baby giggling, "Dukey!"

Janus snickered to himself.

Antonius hid a smirk behind his hand. "His first word."

Remus's scowl melted into a smile as he began laughing. The baby giggled with him, only stopping when he cackled loudly.

The half moons darkened beneath his eyes.

Both Janus and Antonius practically stood on their toes as Remus backed away.

The child whimpered and whined, holding out his arms for the green side to return.

Remus shrieked aloud, making the three grown sides jump slightly.

The baby stared with furrowed brows and a quivering lip.

Janus, Antonius, and the orange side meet his eyes, Remus shrugged at them.

"I tried-"

A horrific wail filled the space, all four dropping slightly as they held their ears and gritted their teeth. Unlike Remus's, which was high pitched and only surprising, the baby's crying sounding like a wild animal had been injured and was in need of help.

Antonius scooped the child into his arms, holding him to his chest as he shushed and rocked him. The child quieted and buried his face into the king's shirt. Anxiety, he marveled in his head. "You're alright, little one," he assured quietly. "Everything is okay. We will not do that to you again." He turned to Remus, who stumbled to his feet. "Right?"

Remus opened his mouth to protest only for the king to raise an eyebrow and jerk his head to the sniffling infant in his arms. He rolled his eyes nodded, a small grin on his face.

"Right," the green side amended as he bent down to meet the child's admittedly frightened eyes. "And I'm so sorry for scaring you," he exaggerated. "Can you find it in your heart to forgive me my wrongdoings?"

The baby carefully reached his hand out and felt the Duke's mustache under his small fingers.

Remus gave a smal laugh as he stared at Antonius. "Forgiv-" The green side yelled as the baby yanked his mustache, the three males laughing slightly as Remus pulled free and hid behing Janus.

"The brat's evil. Don't trust him."

"Oh, hush, Remus, I'm sure little Anxiety still accepts your apology," Antonius mused.

Remus fumed. "Well, he can take that 'apology accepted' and-"

"Wait," Janus backpedaled. "Did you saw 'Anxiety?'"

Antonius nodded. "Something tells me our host is more... protective of himself than most others."

Remus oohed childishly as he eyed Janus. "Hear that, Janus? You're being replaced."

"Or he's getting a partner," the orange side hummed as he rubbed the child's cheek. "You would be surprised at how useful it can be to fly instead fight."

"And I serve to keep Thomas safe mentally. Dukey," Janus added.

The baby Anxiety chuckled slightly.

Remus sighed as he ruffled the boy's hair. "I'll keep it in mind, Snake."

Antonius sat down and held the baby in his hands, letting him stand on his lap.

"Think Patton will approve of this? Us looking after him?" The orange side asked cautiously. "If he finds out a core side was born here and that he's in our care..."

The thought made the colored sides queasy.

Antonius flicked his wrist, producing a plush spider out of thin air and handing it to Anxiety. "He already has his hands full with Remus's fairytale brother and a never ending machine such as Logic, not to mention keeping Thomas in line, however thin that may be." He folded one leg over the other and let Anxiety sit down, waving one of the outer spider legs at him as he held its head and front legs. "Consider this a favor on his part that he won't have to pay back."

"Sounds like you have a plan brewing," Remus reveled as he shook and hugged himself.

Antonius brushed some hair off of Anxiety's forehead. "Roman and Patton have a black and white perception of the world, and of us. Can you imagine what they would say if he'd appeared with them, let alone done?"

Remus bit his lip and Janus clenched a fist.

"We're the bag guys, that's what Roman says."

"Ah, but he forgets without us, who would Thomas be?" Antonius asked th Remus as he pointed a finger. He turned his attention back to Anxiety who squirmed off his knee and crawled on the couch, the spider trailing beside him as he held its leg. Janus smirked as he lowered to the ground and reappeared two cushions infront of the child, Anxiety perplexed by the sight. The royal chuckled at the two before turning back to the sides.

"When people are anxious about something, their judgement shifts like a broken pendulum, trying to decide what is right and what is wrong in a heartbeat. Exposed to anxiety, morality tends to become more of a guideline than a code. Creativity is a wonderful thing, but introduce a hint of fear of rejection, of losing everything you've worked so hard to have, and it all comes to a halt. Logically, when one gets anxious, they would think "calm down," even when all they can do is wallow in whatever caused them to be anxious in the first place." The king leaned back, seeing Anxiety and Janus had been listening.

"If Patton or Logan saw Anxiety, neither one would take him in."

"Doesn't Logan know there's this thing called a "grey area" where people do bad things for a good purpose?" The orange side pointed out.

"He does," Antonius agreed, "but the others don't and try to keep Thomas on a path that is inevitably going to destroy him."

Janus perked up as he helped Anxiety stand like Antonius had done before. "And that is our job. To keep Thomas safe and make sure he's taking care of his mind and body equally," he explained to Anxiety in a sweet tone. "The other sides want him to be a good person, but he has to take care of himself, too."

Anxiety swung his arms at his sides, smiling widely.

"That's right, little Anxiety. We're just as important as they are, and they need to know that."

Antonius's smile grew.

"Can we keep him?"

The three males averted their eyes to Remus, whose smile dropped when he met their gaze.

"What?" He asked innocently. "Evil kid's grown on me."

Antonius tsked as he shook his head and stood, Anxiety holding his arms out so he could be picked up, which he did. "Where do you see evil in taking time to collect yourself in the aftermath of a long day?" Antonius asked as he gestured to Janus, who fixed his posture to sit straight. "Where do you see evil in allowing yourself to know whether you had done something to wrong another and need to tell others you regret your actions towards them?" The orange side brightened as he nodded. "Where do you see evil in being vigilant of your surroundings?" Despite asking Remus, Antonius held Anxiety in his arms, but far enough to be staring directly into his eyes. "To take care of yourself is to be aware of what can hurt you and what can help you. I see no evil that."

"The others do," Remus said bitterly.

Antonius nodded. "Unfortunately." He smiled at Anxiety. "However, opinions change when people see the full picture rather than just one corner."

The three grew lively, agreeing and smiling as the king's eyes moved from one to the next, then back to Anxiety.

"Let this be your first lesson, little Anxiety. Self preservation, integrity, even intrusive thoughts, none of us are evil; we only wish to reach the same finish line as the core sides, even though our start was a little sloppy."

The more he said the side's trait, the more it left a bitter taste in his mouth, almost like saying Deceit when Janus helped a situation rather than make it worse.

Thomas's vigilance and awareness, he mused inwardly as Anxiety fidgeted and teethed on the ring on Antonius's thumb. Virgilius is too big of a name for a child like you. Even as you grow, it still may not fit you.

"Virgil."

The role the child would have to play was too big for him now, but at least his name would fit just right.

Antonius held his forehead against Virgil's, letting the child's hands touch his face.

"The others don't like that word, evil. They tend to pity and hate themselves and then lash out at each other. Alas, the core sides are blissfully ignorant of the damage they cause." He sat down once more, holding an intrigued Virgil on his lap, the infant mesmerized by the words his elder spoke, despite barely understanding them. "Always remember that, Virgil, my boy.

"None of us are evil, and neither are you. We're all just as important as they are."

Virgil's eyes fluttered as he yawned and Antonius adjusted his hold to where the child's back was against his forearm and his head was against his upper arm and chest.

"Sweet dreams, Virgil," Antonius cooed softly. "And welcome to our family."

The warm and fuzzies!

They feel...

Really weird after writing so much angst.

I like it😊

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records - Chapter One

Read the order. Stamp. Pass along. When Victoria had started working for Fieldworks Studios she had expected her life to be a little more exciting that this. Read the order. Stamp. Pass along.

Of course there were tasks that she loved doing, such as writing smal reviews of up and coming bands that no one else cared about, but those had been few and far between on her internship. She hadn’t been expecting to meet Arctic Monkeys right away, but after six months it might have been nice to be doing something other than stamping invoices. Was this even a job that she should be doing as a marketing intern? Surely someone in accounts should be doing this?

Rolling her eyes she took another sip of her coffee, pushing vibrant red hair away from her face and glancing up as she heard footsteps walking toward her desk. Cindy, her manager, walked across the open plan office with a girl that Victoria had never seen before, her curly brown and green hair enough to ensure that the girl would have noticed her had she been working here before.

“And this is your desk…” Cindy spoke, poker straight blonde bob swaying slightly as she pulled the chair out for the new girl who sat cautiously. Victoria looked up at her manager who gave a small and fake smile before offering no further information and walking off into the direction of her office.

The new girl settled herself on her desk, pulling green stationary from her green bag and organising the desk before she switched the Mac on by the screen.  

“So you really like the colour green, huh?” Victoria spoke, smiling at the girl and hoping beyond anything that she wasn’t going to be one of those stuck up bitches that she so frequently came across in this industry.

The brunette looked up at her with a bemused smile, blue eyes meeting each other and she nodded, “How could you tell?”

Cindy called a meeting at 3pm that day, the entire floor of their building cramming into a boardroom meant for 12 people, and she started a presentation on facts and figures over the last months. Victoria had seen a similar presentation each month, and she had long since stopped caring about what was actually presented in them. Of course she wanted to climb the ranks in this business, but she couldn’t see what the point was of her, and now the other intern who’s name she had found out was Juliet, sitting in on something that was so above their pay grade.

“And our final item..” Cindy spoke, flicking to the final slide on her presentation, a list of bands that she had never heard of appearing and she felt the rest of the room recoil at the sight. This was a new addition to what she had seen, and she leant forward to try and understand the small font size, trying to figure out what the hell it was.

“Now as you know, every February the big boss hikes up the discovery targets. I’ve split this list into four quadrants for each of your teams, I’ll send you the names and dates of the bands you will be going to see. This is quite a good list, only a few that i’m not sure will be right for us.”

“With respect,” James piped up, and Victoria stifled a groan - he always had something to say, thought he was too high up to do anything when he was really only a Senior Talent Scout - two levels up from an intern, “Why are we going to see bands that we don’t think are right for us?”

The room muttered in agreement and Victoria tried her hardest to bite back the words that were about to erupt from her chest. But she had never been one to hold back. You had to take risks in this business, and she didn’t want to remain an intern forever.

“We’ll go.” She spoke, Cindy’s eyes darting to her own and she assessed the girl. The manager had always seen these interns as an inconvenience, had given them the menial work to do because if they really wanted to be anything but an intern why had they not applied themselves? But finally, there was one with some spunk.

“What did you say, Victoria?” The blonde questioned, more to stop the room from talking, and the younger girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat as everyone’s gaze fell on her.

“I--” She spoke, clearing her throat and sitting up straighter in her seat as she glanced momentarily at Juliet, realising that she was volunteering this new girl without knowing if this was actually want she wanted to do. What if Juliet wanted to be in accounts?

“I said that we’ll go -- we’ll go and see the bands that you don’t think are right for us.”

The silence was deafening, and while Victoria would have appreciated some backup from Juliet, she appreciated that it was her first day - and that Victoria had just thrown them both off the deep end in a meeting with 25 talent scouts and their managers, as well as the boss of the entire floor.

“I mean --” Victoria continued when no-one spoke, “You guys know what you are looking for, you know that you need to hit targets and that you are most likely going to find the bands that you do something with out of the pool that Cindy has signed off.” She turned slightly in her chair as she addressed the room, swallowing the lump in her throat and ignoring the part of her that was telling her to shut. up.

“Why don’t you let me and Juliet go and see the ones that you’re not sure will be any good. We can report back, do some recordings - I’ve been here months and have filed hundreds of scout reports. You can then look over them without having to actually waste your time going to see them right?”

Cindy leaned forward, both arms resting at the head of the boardroom table as she mulled it over. Victoria was right of course, and she would much rather reject a shitty band from the comfort of her office than go to a dive bar in Shoreditch, but she was acutely aware that the brand needed to be represented properly. Her eyes narrowed and she ran her eyes over both Victoria and Juliet, and she stood up as she made her decision.

“Fine.” She spoke, and Victoria’s heart almost jumped out of her chest. She hadn’t really expected it to work - had expected their manager to shoot her down and perhaps keep her in mind the next time they were planning something. “I’ll give you two a shot at one band” She held a digit up as her eyes ran between the two of them, acutely aware that she was giving a bit chance to a girl who had been here only a few months, and a girl who had only started that morning.

“Amazing..” Juliet sat up straighter and Victoria let out a breath that she hadn’t realised she had been holding. She did want to do this.

“Rest assured that if you fuck this up, you will not be given this chance again.” She spoke, eyes still uncertain as she looked between the two of them and it felt like the entire room was against this.

“We won’t fuck it up.” Victoria sat up, trying her best to not show how excited she was, “Who are we seeing and where?”

“I’ll email you with the rest of them.” She stood up, placing her hands on her hips as she stepped away from the table, “Now get back to work, the lot of you.”

The stood, and Victoria glanced over at Juliet, smiling a little more as she could see that the girl was also doing her best to play it cool.

Sitting back down at their desks, Juliet glanced around and waited until everyone was back at their desk before she leant across to Victoria, “You’ve got balls” she grinned, “cheers for involving me.”

Victoria shook her head, glancing around and allowing herself to let the facade slip slightly, “Don’t be silly - we’ve got to stick together in this place.”

The girls smiled at each other, and both held in their excitement when the promised email landed in their inbox.

The Dangers - 8:30pm - 11 Hoxton Square, Shoreditch

[weemsbotts]

A Promise Fulfilled: The Gift and Joy of Local Hand-drawn Maps

By: Lisa Timmerman, Executive Director

Connecting with friends and relatives in the 1960s posed the same challenges we face today but with different solutions. In 1966, Mrs. Carlene Schmitt sent Mr. Edward McKnight a Christmas card along with a hand drawn map. The card’s message and map provide a mini-historical explosion of local history as Leo indicated old, new, and eye-catching landmarks to help their friend navigate the region and town of Heathsville.

Letter Postmarked: 12/14/1966

Dear Mr. McKnight,

I’m truly sorry a whole year has passed since your tel. call to Mary Jo’s & at that time I promised to send you one of Leo’s maps, should you care to drive down sometime to see our “Windy Blue Breakers” – Leo’s dream of a lifetime come true. One thing or another came up and, in all justice, I must admit too that I hate to write letters; and the older I get the more of a chore letter-writing becomes. I do want to fulfil that promise made, so I am enclosing herewith the map. A new road has been built since Leo made this map so follow the red line and I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting here. No doubt you would prefer to come in the spring time rather than in winter but if you’d care to come you’d be very welcome. Be sure however to let me know prior to your coming so I’d be sure to be here, for sometimes I decide to run up to Mary Jo’s or to Richmond to visit Leo’s brother and wife of whom I am very fond. So if you do decide to come, do let me know. Leo’s map begins at the Potomac River Bridge near Morgantown and it is so clear you’ll have no trouble I’m sure Watch out at Templeman’s Crossroads – and bear Left there and Don’t continue straight (towards Kilmarnock & Warsaw).

I hope you will have a wonderful Christmas and may 1967 be a great year for you and your loved ones filled with good health, happiness and an abundance of God’s choicest blessings throughout.

Sincerely,

Carlene Schmitt

While our hands probably do not tire from actually handwriting a letter, we no doubt can relate with her desire to know when to expect company. The fact that it is just one of Leo’s maps is even more intriguing. Did he document all his travels? Did he keep older maps? Could we study the changes to the town and surroundings and learn more about the community of Heathsville from them? Leo identified types of trees, stores, neighborhoods, road signs, and mileage in a precise map of his community, highlighting and emphasizing what he considered important.

Located in Northumberland County, Virginia, Heathsville shares a rich history with Dumfries in nearby Prince William County. The first courthouse and taverns appeared in the 1680s, as Heathsville held a prominent location near Coan River, a tributary of the Potomac River, in the Northern Neck of Virginia. While the Scottish named Dumfries as a nostalgic throwback to Scotland, Heathsville honored John Heath, a prominent member of the U.S. House of Representatives from 1793-1797. Heathsville experience rapid growth and change as the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, and the Civil War all took a toll on this central location. While it can be easy to consider our towns isolated throughout the 1700s and 1800s, this was certainly not the case! Social networking was and is a prominent feature of our society and we see it most clearly through letters, maps, and the desire to visit and share knowledge.

(Sources: HDVI Archives: McKnight Letters – Misc. Letters; Historic Heathsville Inc comprising The Northumberland County Historical Society, Hughlett’s Tavern Foundation, the Northumberland Public Library, and the Economic Development Commission of Northumberland County, https://historicheathsville.wordpress.com/our-history/)

Note: The Weems-Botts Museum Gift Shop is the perfect place for local history lovers! From historic maps to local artwork to embroidered shirts, sweatshirts, and fluffy quarter zips, we offer a range of delightful merchandise that supports our non-profit. Historic toys and small game sets make the perfect and unique gift as many of our items are only available at our store. The gift of membership and program tickets are other inventive and local ways to contribute to our community! Visit our website here and our Square store here (select items & memberships available online). Email: info@historicdumfriesva.org.

[intrepidolivia]

Tarot: 0--The Fool

The Fool represents new beginnings, having faith in the future, being inexperienced, not knowing what to expect, having beginner's luck, improvisation and believing in the universe.

Pairing: NeganXOlivia (OC)

Warnings: cursing, violence, implications of abuse, threats, death

Summary: A/B/O AU. An Omega, Olivia is used as a bargaining chip to bribe the leader of the Saviors, the Alpha named Negan. Things do not go as planned.

A/N: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I’m not stopping on my Alexandria Country Club AU, but that one’s wrapping up in a couple chapters, so here we are....

Olivia kept her head down as Kevin tugged her toward the compound gate. The metal cuffs chafed her wrists, and he was tall enough that for every step he took she had to take two, but she didn’t dare complain, or even make a noise when she stumbled. The men at her back had no compunction about shoving or hitting her if she ‘made a fuss’ or anything that might give them an excuse.

The gates loomed high above, and the dead moaned, trapped tethered to the chain link. The scent of decay was thick in the too-hot air as they waited for the doors to open. They’d approached the compound openly, in vehicles, and already there was activity from guard towers and on the ground. The response was fast, sure, and aggressive. Clearly they were practiced. The place was enormous and imposing, and if the chatter from the others on the way over was anything to go on, the Saviors were taking over the entire area. She shuddered to imagine what sort of monster might keep a place like this under his rule. She supposed she wouldn’t have to imagine very long, considering.

They’d parked several yards away from the gate, approaching on foot. Trying to make a peaceable first contact she imagined. Kevin took the lead of course, standing confidently in front of her as they waited for someone to come down and talk to them. He kept a pleasant smile on his face, even when he turned to glare at her.

“Best behavior, Omega,” he hissed. “You screw this up for me and you’ll regret it.”

She swallowed, looking down. Knowing he’d want some sort of acknowledgement she nodded.She didn’t trust herself to try to speak, but that didn’t matter. He prefered her silence. He’d made that much clear in the weeks she’d been in captivity. Had it only been two? It felt like an eternity.

Activity at the gate distracted her and she dared a glance up as the doors opened slowly. Three men exited, all armed, but she only really noticed the one in the lead. Even before his scent reached her she knew. Alpha. This had to be Negan, king of the Saviors. The man Kevin meant to make her a gift to.

He was tall and lean, his dark eyes sharp in an achingly handsome face. His grin was wide, toothy, and predatory as he stepped out, flanked by his minions. He spread his arms wide, a barbed-wire-wrapped baseball bat held loosely in one hand.

“Well, what the hell do we have here?” he asked, with deceptive cheer. “A whole little envoy at my gate, hats in hands.” He paused, nostrils flaring, his pupils dilating as he caught her scent.

“You might say that,  Negan, sir,” Kevin said mildly. His whole manner was a lie. She’d seen the arrogance and volatility that was his usual personality. The primary reason he was in charge of the little compound of survivors was that anyone who questioned him bore the brunt of his wrath. She’d seen it when another Alpha objected to his plan to broker peace with the Saviors by offering her. And she’d felt it when she’d tried to run.

Negan’s grin widened, if such a thing was possible. “I’m guessing my reputation precedes me,” he purred. His eyes flicked to her, mostly hidden behind Kevin, and she dropped her gaze to his worn black boots. “So, I take it you’re here to ask to be in the fuckin’ fold and avoid us having to convince you?”

“Yes, sir, that we are.” She could tell Kevin was smiling from his voice. And why shouldn’t he? Things were going smoothly. “Our community has a lot to offer. Good workers, we’ve gotten some good salvage locations scouted out. We’d like to work with you, Negan, sir. I’ve even brought a down payment.”

The big man’s laugh had an edge to it as he clapped his hands slowly. “Well, will you look at this, Simon?” he asked the man next to him. “This fuckin guy is a fuckin go-getter. Why the fuck can’t we have this all the time without all the bullshit? What’s your fuckin’ name, friend?”

“Kevin. Kevin Masterson.” He was practically glowing with pride. “I’m the boss up at the old horse farm, a couple miles from here. We’ve fortified it pretty well, doing okay for ourselves. And as for our down payment…”

The yank on the chain startled her. Olivia stumbled forward as Kevin pulled her in front of him. Before she could react, he had a hand in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat.

“An unmated Omega,” Kevin said, undeniably proud of himself. “No idea how she managed this long, pretty as she is. Redhead, too.” He chuckled, forcing her head from side to side to prove she had no mating mark on her neck. “Might as well be a unicorn. I figure that’s worth something, huh?”

Kevin didn’t seem to notice what she did. Negan’s expression hardened as Kevin forced her forward. His dark eyes flicked to the chain, then up to her face. His jaw worked, and his hand tightened on the bat. Kevin had expected him to be pleased. He was not.

It made it all the more terrifying when he smiled, a wide stretch of teeth. “Well would you look at that. Kevin here’s giving me a sweet little Omega as a fuckin’ present.” He reached out, snatching the chain from the other man’s hand. Kevin released her hair, giving her a little shove toward Negan.

She was close enough to really catch his scent then. Leather, and something like cedar mingled with musk and whiskey. Despite herself she responded, pulling in a deep breath. Kevin, and the other Alpha at the farm had smelled wrong to her. Too sharp and sour and sickly, like metal and rust. From everything she’d heard, Negan was a monster to be feared, but in that moment all she wanted was to bury her face in his chest.

He caught her by the shoulder, steadying her, his eyes fixed on Kevin. More gently than she expected, he moved her to one side, handing off the chain to the man he’d called Simon.

“I gotta tell you, Kev. That ain’t no way to treat a fuckin’ lady,” Negan said pleasantly. “Makes me wonder what you’ve got goin’ on with your little farm.”

She saw the play of emotions across Kevin’s face. Puzzlement, then anger. He squelched it as much as he probably could. “Look, she’s an Omega we found wandering. Any other Alpha would have taken and knotted her by now,” he began.

“But not you, Kev. You haul her off in chains like a fucking dog to give to an Alpha you think’s more dangerous than you are. Not like you give a fuck, huh?” Negan rumbled. “You gonna show your belly and piss yourself, too?”

Kevin showed his teeth at that, his eyes darkening. “You’re the one going around demanding supplies. I figured you of all people would appreciate a little Omega fucktoy.”

The barbed wire wrapped bat made a sound unlike any she’d ever heard when it collided with Kevin’s temple. He went down like a felled tree, crumpling at Negan’s feet. His people reacted with shock as Negan continued, the bat rising and falling with a savage violence she’d never seen, even since the world ended.

She stumbled back, Simon catching her shoulders and turning her face away. It didn’t block out the sounds, though.

The horrible wet noises went on for an eternity. When it was finally over, the hush was unbearable.

“Now then. First of all, which of you sorry fucks has the key to that girl’s cuffs?” Negan’s voice was a knife’s edge.

Olivia didn’t dare look at what was left of Kevin, though it was easy enough to imagine given the state of Negan and his bat. Gore dripped thickly from the barbed wire, and when he glanced back, she saw blood spattered across his handsome face. She closed her eyes, trembling. Simon patted her shoulder in what she was sure he thought was a reassuring manner.

“I--I have it,” said Alan. The other Alpha. The one who’d wanted to keep her for himself. He was cowed, afraid. He handed over the small, silver key without a word of protest, his eyes on the ground submissively.

Negan plucked the key from his hand. “All right, let’s get this crystal fucking clear,” he growled. “I’m going to be visiting your fucking compound. Half your shit is mine. I fucking own you. I fucking own your shit. You fucking exist at my pleasure, and because of this dead fucker here, you’re on fucking probation.” His voice was loud, commanding. “If I get there and you’re treating women or Omegas like the dearly departed treated this little girl, we are going to have fucking problems.” He pointed the bloody bat at Alan. “Do we fucking understand each other?”

Alan’s eyes were wide. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but didn’t dare. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Good. Then get the fuck out of here. We’ll be visiting in a week to take our shit,” Negan grated. “And don’t even fucking think of bucking up on us.”

The group fled, as she imagined they would. Alan was an Alpha, but he knew his limits, and he knew when someone else was a bigger threat. Since the world ended, Negan was the biggest threat she’d ever come across. And now, he had her.

The man strode over to her, towering head and shoulders above her. “Let’s see those wrists, baby girl,” he said.

She didn’t dare look up, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground as she held up her wrists for him to unlock the cuffs. She’d thought about running, or fighting. That was the reason for Kevin’s warning; he knew there was fire in her. Despite her situation, despite being an Omega. Faced with Negan, however, she was much too afraid to do anything.

He unlocked the cuffs, making a dissatisfied noise at the chafing around her wrists. She resisted the impulse to rub at them as the chain fell away. She tried to remain as still and small as possible, though it was a silly thing to do. She already had his full attention.

A big, leather-clad hand caught her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

He was handsome. It was unfair, really, that such a terrifying Alpha would have a face that was so very appealing. Beautiful dark eyes, a salt-and-pepper stubble across his cheeks and chin, a hint of dimples as he smiled down at her.

“There we are,” he said, his voice soft. “Damn. That dead fucker was right about one thing. You’re pretty as can be, doll. How the fuck can you not be mated?” He shook his head, grinning down at her, sharp white teeth on display. “What’s your name, doll baby?”

It took her two tries to speak, her voice lost in her dry throat. “Olivia,” she said finally.

His thumb feathered over her lips. “Well, hello there, Olivia. I’m Negan. Welcome to Sanctuary, little Omega.”

Tagging the usual suspects:  @noodlecupcakes @glittered-unicorn-lava @genevievedarcygranger @adair-donovan @feistybaby @negans-network  @ask-kakashihatake

[thehabilableheart]

April 22, 2019

I lived in North Carolina for five and a half years. For five and a half years, I had dreams of being hunted, chased, abducted, locked up, and almost killed. It was always the same dream, but I could never see the faces of my attackers. Only once did I see them, but they were creatures.. not human beings. Morning after morning I would get up wondering why in the world I was waking up scared and thinking that someone was after me. My mom’s biggest fear is drowning. She’s told me a couple of times about her waking up from a dream where she was submerged in dark, deep water, not able to swim or hold onto anything or call out to anyone to save her life. Scary, right? Dreaming of your biggest fear and waking up even more anxious and stressed out than before you went to sleep in the first place? I thought sleep was supposed to be our bodies natural way of recovering from a long day. How are we supposed to recover if night’s in our heads are just as stressful as days in real life? 

My biggest fear? I have a couple, actually. Losing any of the natural 5 (or for me, 6) senses…or being brutally murdered. Murdered in general, honestly. It doesn’t have to be brutal. But anyway. Because of these dreams, I began to think, since I was under a lot of stress and serious confusion pertaining to who I was and what my purpose is in this life, that my head was projecting my fears in my sleep so as to keep my body in a constant, neutural level state of stress whether I was awake or asleep. Sort of like a self defense mechanism. A natural, mental and physical balance. That’s not how I view dreams anymore though. So many people are going to say “Those aren’t dreams you were having in the first place. They were nightmares.” No. A dream, I think, is your subconscious’ way of talking to you, or teaching a lesson. I don’t believe in nightmares anymore. Just conversations between my physical and inner self. It’s a language. I think I finally figured out what I’ve been trying to tell myself for so long, with some help translating from a friend. We talk about pretty far stretched stuff. We discuss lots of opinions, ideas, and beliefs. I think it’s truly incredible the way two human beings can be so intensely connected.. but I’ll write about that another time.

We got to talking about some of our dreams the other night, and what they could mean. In all of the dreams where I’m being hunted down to be murdered.. they’ve all occurred in a big empty house and somehow, I always managed to escape to a safe room hidden away in a closet full of boxes and clothing. No one else could find or see it, and when I tried to share it with anyone that I knew wasn’t trying to hurt or kill me.. it was gone. I didn’t understand what the dream was telling me until he told me that the house represented me. He told me about a friend of his that translates dreams. She says, that in a dream, a house represents you. I think I finally realized what that hidden room actually was, and why it was always in the core of all the chaos. It was always where I ended up at the end of the dream to save myself. The room was my inner self preserving who I really am. Who I was in the past. The stuff in the closet was a wall put up to defend that part of me. To protect my genuine self from who I was being on the outside. I think, and this is just my interpretation, that my attackers weren’t really set out to attack me. I think they were really out to scare me and push me into remembering who I was by leaving me terrified into that smal;, hidden space. Running and hiding inside of myself always saved me. Imagine me being the girl I used to be. Imagine that girl being the one that saves my life completely.

Growing up, my aunts and my grandfather like to remind me, I was always so kind, loving, and thoughtful. I was always so caring about others and had a huge heart. I didn’t know a stranger. If anyone needed anything at all, I’d get or give it whether I had it or the means to get it anyway. I’d always find a way. While I still don’t know a stranger, I haven’t been the kind, loving, thoughtful person I used to be for years. I don’t know what flipped the switch in North Carolina to make me such a manipulative, inconsiderate, bitch to everyone that surrounded me. I’m sure if I sat down and evaluated myself, I could figure it out. But I don’t think I want to be reminded of what did it, so I probably won’t do that. 

I keep repeating how good this move to Texas has been for me, and today I realized it so much more when reanalyzing the conversation my friend and I had about the reoccurring conversation between myself and my subconcious. I think this move to Texas is me turning that safe place in my dreams inside out into my new, happy home. Coming home is me fighting for the me that’s been hidden in that secret room. That dream was my inner self telling me to open up and exist again. To be who I truly am, and stop hiding. Stop running. Stop guarding. I don’t need to be guarded. I hurt so many people hiding who I really am. The worst part about that, is I hurt myself the most. I allowed myself to believe everyone around me was the problem, but I was subconsciously telling myself that it’s been me the whole time. I’m the reason I’ve been so hurt and so broken. No one else can control me, but I thought I had to change to fit everyone else’s idea of who “being me” was. 

Being home now, FEELS like home. I finally want to wake up every morning. I finally find joy in little things like actually getting up when my alarm goes off. Making coffee in my French press. Making my bed in the mornings. Seeing my dog’s excitement when it’s time for her to be fed and get taken outside. I don’t hate myself anymore. I don’t feel confused. I don’t beg God to take my life from me every night. I don’t talk down to myself. In fact, I’ve been feeling a lot prettier and much more confident lately. I’m falling back in love with me. The REAL me. Not the me I’ve been murdering in my head for so long. I guess in a sense that’s what I needed to do, right? Murder the person I’ve been pretending to be, so who I know I am in my heart can finally run free. Not run away, but run openly. Fly. Without any fears. Without any set backs. I finally have my own place all to myself, decorated and organized the way I want it. It’s MY home. No roommates. I don’t have people coming over to party. I don’t have other people living with me trying to change something or control anything. I started Real Estate school, and I’m enjoying every minute of it. I finally get up and out of bed at 8:00 every morning, even if I stayed up late the night before. My apartment stays clean. I have my somewhat of a routine. I finally feel like I exist. I feel like I belong. I fit. I haven’t felt anxious or depressed since I started school. I finally made girlfriends that actually care about me FOR me and not what I have or what I can give them. They aren’t using me, or trying to “compete” with me. We met up for coffee and they brought me house warming gifts. Not just me, but Iris too! The other day when I posted that my day had been “blah” on Snapchat.. immediately they facetime’d me to make sure I was alright. Not to be nosy, not to feed a hunger for drama or to gossip about me to someone else…but called because they really do care. That’s a new feeling for me. Them and two guy friends I made as well that don’t just want to get laid or leach off of me..Genuine, strong, smart, kind, loving human beings. I thought they didn’t exist. Now I know they do. 

One of my aunts made the comment that I grew roots in North Carolina and I’ll either go back or always want to. This past weekend I finally realized I don’t. I don’t want to go back to where I lost myself. I did it once, I ruined so many relationships with so many good people because of who I pretended to be. I don’t want to do it again. I don’t want to be whoever that was again. Another reference to a comment someone else made a while back when he also knew I genuinely lost who I was.. “Where is the Anissa I first met? The confident, loving, happy girl who knows who she is?” I don’t know, dude. But I’m glad I finally got her back in my grasp. I planted seeds here in Bedford, Fort Worth, Texas. I’m finally nurturing MYSELF instead of everyone else around me. I’m growing. I want to wake up every morning. I don’t feel the need to run. I don’t want to die anymore. I don’t hate myself. I belong. I exist. I’m alive. I’m living. I can stop hiding. I can finally stop running. All of this self awareness from one tiny translation from a language we build naturally within ourselves. Who knows? I could have it all wrong.. but I think this interpretation sounds pretty good considering the result, don’t ya think? Releasing me again. Believing in who I am and who I can grow to be in the future. Believing that I HAVE a future. Being able to walk and enjoy the light, instead if run and hide from the storm.

I don’t feel alone anymore. I don’t feel empty. I don’t feel homeless..

I don’t feel homeless. I’m home.  Finally. 

I’m me again. And God, does that feel good.