#some of my first memories of math class are of me sobbing under my desk

[i-havenothingelsetopost]

genuine question, do you like maths?? i have a vague feeling i saw your post of tags or something that said something about it but i cannot figure out if it was in fact you or if it was even positive ahahah

Yeah that was me! I don't go looking for math problems, but when I happen to do them, I tend to enjoy it. Wasn't always this way — elementary school math was about speed and memorization and I hated that — but I had a really good teacher in upper secondary school, and it became about creative problem solving. It feels the same as writing a poem in meter or managing to untangle a really bad knot in a ball of yarn.

[imfullofworms]

My Girl

It's sorta long I guess

School days, smoking days, kissing Jackie at dark discos days. Lunch takes place in a tobacco field away from the Masters' gaze.

Emily giggles then snorts at something Terri says, but I don't laugh because I missed it; too busy staring at Jackie's adorable freckles and wriggling eyebrows who's yet to say anything.

That damn division bell echoes and Terri and Emily go, but Jackie remains, tugging at the ends of her tattered sleeves. I sense that she wants to say something to me and, besides that, I'd rip my beating heart out of my chest if it meant I could kiss her again.

As my lips part for my voice she levels a stare at me; her eyes brimming with tears. That's when I know what's on her mind—probably something like we can't ever kiss again, you can't ever hold my hand again, if anyone ever found out we'd be fucked. Close to that anyway, and without a single uttered word she kills me, my hopes, my dreams and the already-fragile idea that we could be.

Jackie, Jacksy I called her once and it stuck, my girl Jacksy.

In my sobs I see her walk, jog, run away, wiping furiously at her face and despite everything—my puffy cheeks, ruined makeup, soaked collar—I head back too and walk into maths late. Master McGeogh questions my tardiness and I tell him to go fuck himself. He sighs and nods and points me to sit down beside my... not my Jacksy anymore.

So the lesson passes as geologic time does and in every second of it I'm trying to come up with a way for us to go back, just a week, only a week. It's then I feel the prod of a finger; Jacksy touching mine under the desk.

The bell rings and the dream ends.

We never hold hands again. We never speak again. I'm barely fit to pass forlorn looks to her in the corridors of that hateful fucking place.

Years go by.

I don't get the course I want in College, but I do get College and that's enough. On my first day I see a pair of girls walking ahead of me; holding hands and swinging to and fro. One has her hair, blonde and greasy, cut short. The other is wearing a beanie, but it's dyed red and looks long. Then I notice the redhead's sleeves—torn asunder from constant fidgeting.

My... not my Jacksy.

I don't make it to a toilet (because I've no idea where they are) and vomit in a bin while nonchalantly (very much chalantly) pretending to put something in it.

It should've been us, I heave, but 9am draws fast and class with it. So I join the crowds and pretend everything's fine.

But everything wasn't fine. Everything hadn't been fine for years. Everything was fucked. My girl was someone elses. Because when we met we shouldn't have. In some perfect world perhaps... just not this one.

Only allowed to kiss and love and care for one another in the spaces between school daydreams.

ah, the memories | by me (names have been changed to protect identities and what not)

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Chapter 4

A/N: This Chapter takes place in like an hour which was not my intention when I started but here it is anyway. I really like this one and I think it leads perfectly into the rest of the story. Enjoy! CW: Swearing

Faking It Masterlist

“Get up right now!” Aelin yelled at her cousin, her body hovering above his sleeping form. “Aedion I have a math test first period that I'm going to miss.” 

She grabbed the pillow out from under his head and smacked him with it. Her moron of a cousin just groaned and rolled over, muttering something indecipherable under her breath. 

“Pleaseee Aedion.” Aelin whined, fully aware of how desperate she sounded. Aelin wasn't exactly a natural at math, and really needed to do well on this test if she was even going to pass. 

“Fuck off.” He grumbled, and turned back over in bed. He had spare first period, and didn't need to be at school for another hour and a half. Still, he’d promised her over dinner last night that he’d take her in. Aelin had woken up about ten minutes ago and got ready quickly, fully prepared to be driven by her cousin. 

She called Lysandra’s phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Without wasting anymore time, Aelin chugged the remaining half cup of coffee, needing the energy boost, and left the house. She knew Aedion would feel guilty later, but it was too late now for his future apologies to matter. 

Aelin had gotten all of half a block, when she realized that she was still wearing Doc Martens. There was no fucking way she was going to be able to walk the five miles to school in these platforms without dropping dead. Just then, as Aelin fully prepared herself to collapse on the ground and fake an illness, a car pulled up. Aelin recognized the beat black vehicle, and the small dent in the front from days prior. 

Rowan Whitethorn rolled down his window slowly, as if he was still deciding whether or not to drive away. “Want a drive?” 

She looked him up and down, than glanced down the road at the miles stretching out before her. Was getting mocked and condescended to really worth a math grade? Aelin continued to walk down the street in answer. 

Rowan groaned and rolled the car forward, keeping pace with her easily. “Just get in the car.” 

Aelin had heard those words from him before, in an ironically similar situation. Against her own wishes, a memory surfaced. She tried in vain to push it out, but it was no use. 

18 Months prior, Aelin Galathynius had been walking down this same street, a bottle of vodka in hand and her cheeks stained with tears. It had been a month since the car crash that claimed both her parents lives. In all honestly, Aelin was less of a wreck than she would've expected. She knew who she owed that fact too, but Rowan Whitethorn was currently across town at a football game with his friends. He didn't care. No one cared. 

So here she was, drunk and sobbing as she walked unsteadily down this empty suburban road. Every once in a while she’d trip and her momentum would spin her around, sending her back in the same direction she’d come. 

Aelin didn't know how long she'd been walking back and forth for, but it must have been a while. The sunset that had torn the sky into strips of different colours was gone, replaced by the blackness of night and a tiny sliver of a crescent moon. 

The alcohol must've numbed her body because when she looked down, Aelin was shocked to find that her feet were bleeding. She wasn't wearing shoes, and pieces of rock and dirt had scratched away at her skin. Aelin found it so funny that she’s forgotten shoes, that she leaned over and started laughing. Deep, wrenching sounds that had her leaning over her knees for support. When she was done laughing at nothing, Aelin continued her stroll down the road, still ignoring the raw and bloody skin of her feet. If she could handle losing both her parents, she could handle some blisters. 

Thats how Rowan found her. Silent tears rolling down her face, an empty bottle of vodka in her hand, bloody feet, and a terrifyingly empty smirk etched onto her pale face. 

She didn't notice him pull up this time, too consumed by her own grief. She did however, hear his voice. Like an anchor in the sea, she felt the tug deep in her soul. 

“Aelin.” He had said, pain lingering behind his every word. She had found it funny at the time that he was in pain. Both his parents were alive. What he could possible have to be upset about. She only realized it days later, after the breakup that had destroyed what was left of her. 

He had been in pain because he loved her. 

She hadn't answered the man in the car. Just kept on walking blindly down the street, bloody footprints on the stone behind her. 

“Let me help you Aelin.” He paused. “Just get in the car.” 

When she hadn't, he’d pulled up right there in the middle of the road and gotten out. He’d pried the alcohol out of her hands and held her against his chest until she had no tears left to cry. Then, so gently that it snapped something in her chest, he’d picked her up and taken her to his car. She was nearly passed out when they arrived at the hospital. The doctors had patched up her feet, removed a small piece of glass that had gotten in her heel. Rowan had stayed overnight with her, and when she awoke in that hospital bed, hungover and in pain, the sight of him sleeping in a tiny chair beside her bed had begun to heal her. 

“Come on Aelin. You’re going to be late for math class.” He insisted, and she snapped out of the unwelcome memory. His voice conveyed that this was her last chance to accept his offer. 

Finally, she stopped. Although a late slip was better than being ridiculed, another failed math mark was not. She sighed and walked around to the other side of his car. Something like surprise flashed on Rowan’s face, but it was gone in an instant. 

“Thanks.” She said as swung the passenger door shut. 

Rowan simply nodded and pushed down on the gas. They sat in silence for a brief moment and Aelin crossed one leg over the other. 

“So,” Rowan began, clearly trying to break the tension. She supposed it was a good idea if they were going to do this whole fake dating thing. “Are you ready for the test.” 

Math was their only class together, luckily, and the only thing they really had in common. It wasn't a shock to her that Rowan would use that for small talk. 

“Um I studied a lot but I don't really understand any of it.” Aelin shrugged, suddenly wishing she was better at math. “I guess I'll just try my best again.” 

“What’d you get last time you tried your best?” He asked.

Aelin winced. “58 percent” 

Rowan gave her a look without turning his head from the road. “What’s your current average.” 

“I’d rather not.” She started fiddling with her hands. She really, really, did not want to give Rowan another reason to make fun of her. 

“Come on.” He pried further. 

Aelin was fully prepared to lie, so it surprised even her when the truth escaped her lips. “47,″ she paused, “point five.”

Rowan shot her an incredulous look, finally turning his head fully. “How is that even possible, your marks were high eighties in sophomore year.” 

“You tutored me.” She admitted without really thinking. “It made sense when you explained it.” 

She knew it was the wrong thing to say when he stiffened, his fingers tightening on the wheel. A few seconds later, they pulled into the parking lot. 

“We’re here.” He told her, opening the door. 

Aelin waited until Rowan was halfway to the school to say, “I can see that.” 

Groaning, she started making her way to class. Luckily, Aelin didn't see anyone she knew. She used the few extra minutes that Rowan’s drive had saved her to run over formulas in her head. She knew that she’d completely forget how to apply them as soon as she picked up the test, but it didn't hurt to know. 

The classroom was full when she got there, and Aelin took her normal seat at the back. In all the commotion with Rowan, Aelin had completely forgotten that she also had this class with Chaol. Her first with him since the breakup. 

She tried not to look in his direction, a feat that was made impossible when he stood up and walked over to her desk. 

“Hey Aelin.” He said, his hands braced on her desk. She didn't like how short this arrangement made her feel. 

“Chaol.” She said, nodding her head. 

“How are you doing?” He asked. 

Aelin groaned internally and dared a glance over at Rowan. He sat two seats to her left, and was watching her and Chaol with a blank face. Swallowing, Aelin smiled up at her ex-boyfriend. “Fine.” She purposely didn't reciprocate the question. 

“Cool cool.” Chaol chewed on his cheek in a way that had never bothered her before, but she now found infuriating. “I was just wondering if you’re planning on going to Dorian’s party this Friday.” 

Ahhh. So that’s what this torturously awkward conversation was about. She gave him a shallow nod. “I think so. Why?” She added the last word as an afterthought. 

“No reason.” Then he took a long sigh. “I just think it might be awkward if I end up hooking up with someone and you’re there.” 

Aelin’s mouth fell open. That could not have been something he actually just said. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of his comment. “Don’t worry about me.” She said sarcastically. “Hook up with all the girls you want, I know I will.” 

He went slightly pale, but still spoke in a teasing voice. “You’re going to hook up with girls?” 

Aelin couldn't help but laugh and Chaol smiled with relief at her response. Out of the corner of her vision, she noticed Rowan’s eyes darken. Chaol was just about to turn away, when she stopped him. 

“Chaol,” He stiffened slightly, as if expecting her to yell at him. “I have a question about the politics of the football team.” 

He looked confused, but relieved all the same. Chaol leaned on her desk again, bringing their faces uncomfortably close. 

“Would an assistant captain be able to pick someone to try out for the team.” Her voice was quiet enough that she knew Rowan couldn't hear.

“Yeah,” Chaol answered, “If an assistant captain finds someone that they think would be a good fit then they are allowed to set up a tryout without needing permission from the captain.” 

“Thanks.” She said, pulling her pencil case out of her bag in a sign of dismissal. 

Chaol gave her a curt nod, and deciding not to ask further about her questions, went back to his chair. 

Minutes later, the teacher handed out the tests, set the timer and told them to begin. 

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

Rowan could tell Aelin was struggling. It was obvious from the frustrated look in her eyes and the slumped posture of her shoulders. She was chewing on her lip and looked quite honestly on the verge of tears. Rowan knew she wouldn't cry in class, she’d always preferred to wait and suffer alone. But the odds were that Lysandra would find her in the bathroom during lunch, locked inside a stall. 

The thought of her in pain had never really bothered him before. He’d been too consumed in his hatred of Aelin Galathynius to really mind. But now, after she’d thawed through a little bit of the ice he regarded her with, the thought was nearly unbearable. 

Rowan Whitethorn had never cheated on a test in his entire life. There was really no need to when he possessed a natural knack for academics. Shit just made sense to him, it had always been like that. So now, as he ever so slowly reached for his phone from his jacket pocket, his heart was positively racing. 

The teacher was at the front of the class with his head down, grading papers. Still, Rowan felt like the man had to be able to hear the sound of Rowan’s heart beating against his chest. Once he had a solid grip around his phone, he slipped it silently out of his pocket. 

His hands were sweaty, and Rowan silently begged the gods not to let him drop it. He carefully grabbed his test and propped it up as a shield, making it look like he was just reviewing it. Sitting in the back row meant there was no one behind to him to snitch, and he trusted the four people that sat to his right enough. With his phone on silent, Rowan quickly took three pictures of the test pages and sent them to Aelin. 

He lingered for a moment on the chat, their last texts being from 18 months ago.  

Aelin: Im really fucking sorry Rowan. Can we still be friends?

He’d left her on read and five minutes later, she’d text again. 

Aelin: I need you in my life still. 

There were typos in his next message, his eyes too blurry with tears to see straight. 

Rowan: You should've thouht of that first. Don't call me. Don't text me. I fucking hate you Aelin. I nver ever want to speak to you again.

She’d never responded, but true to his word, they hadn't spoken since then. Until three days ago. 

Pushing that from his mind, Rowan hit send on the pictures. Already done with his test, he used this time to watch Aelin. 

Her hair was down, and she kept tucking it behind her ears every few moments. Browa furrowed, she bit on her lower lip in a way that had his hand tightening around his pencil. With his eyes on her, Rowan saw the exact moment that her phone vibrated in her pocket. She looked left and right, and he turned away before she could make eye contact with him, and then turned back to her test. 

She did almost the exact same thing he had, using her test as a shield and pulling out her phone. She clicked a few things and then her mouth fell open. There were too many emotions on he face for him to pick out. Relief, shock, joy, surprise. 

Her head jerked in his direction and this time he was too late to turn away. Their eyes met and the way she looked at him had the rest of the class fading away. His heart rate sped up yet again, and there was nothing between them but wasteful space. He couldn't look away from her if he tried. 

Luckily, she looked away first, making him feel quite foolish. She began to copy his answers down, clearly making sure to get a few wrong as to not get caught. Although it seemed an eternity, it took Aelin all of two minutes to change 90% of her answers and pocket the phone once again. 

Rowan released a long breath and felt himself relax again. They’d actually done it. He felt a strange sense of pride, uncomfortably similar to the way he’d felt when him and Aelin were dating. When they broke into an abandoned beach house to jump off the balcony and into the ocean. 

The bell dismissed them and Rowan jumped up from his desk, eager to get out of class before Aelin tried to talk to him. Still, he should've known that evading Aelin Galathynius was utterly useless. 

He had barely gotten to his locker when she caught up to him. He was pulling books out and didn't look her way.

She leaned on the locker beside his - Lorcan’s - and stared at him. “Why’d you do that?” 

He just kept picking out books. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

She snorted and Rowan felt a blush rise on his cheeks. “Don't play dumb with me. Why’d you help me cheat.” 

Rowan was quickly running out of books in his locker. “No thank you?” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.” 

He just nodded and finally turned to face her, slamming his locker shut with more force than was necessary. 

He was fully prepared to leave when she spoke again. “Shall we go to lunch?” 

For the second time in who knows how long, Aelin Galathynius snapped the last bit of his sanity. He flipped them around, so her back was pressed up against the lockers and he was hovering above her. He braced both arms on each side of her head and brought his face close to hers. He could feel her rapid breathing on his cheek and see the way that gold ring in her eyes swelled with fear. He watched as her nostrils flared as she took in his heaving chest. He considered himself lucky that she didn't turn her head to peek at his shaking hands. 

“Aelin.” He said, his voice laced with venom. It was then that he realized this was the first time he’d spoken her name in nearly a year and a half. For a second, he lost the ability to speak. But then she made the smallest movement as if to escape his hold, and he regained it. 

“I don't want to walk to lunch with you. I don't want to trade answers with you. I don't want to speak to you. I don't even want to look at you. I am doing this for me and only me. We talk when it is completely necessary. Other than that please, just leave me the fuck alone. You are nothing to me and I do not care.” 

She didn't even flinch as he spoke. Almost like she knew exactly what he was going to say. There was no sign of hurt in her eyes, just ice cold emptiness. 

“Why?” She asked. The word was so quiet that he nearly missed it. 

“You cheated on me Aelin.” 

There it was. The truth that neither of them had been willing to discuss. He had loved her so much that he was completely consumed by it. But she’d slept with Chaol anyway. He never understood why and she never bothered to explain. 

She opened her mouth to say something when someone cleared their voice beside them. 

“What's going on?” Lorcan asked, Fenrys beside him with his eyes wide. 

Rowan stepped back from Aelin as if he’d been burned. She didn't move though. She stayed there against the lockers looking up at him with a crestfallen expression on her face. 

“Nothing.” Rowan said harshly, looking right at Aelin. “Nothing’s going on at all.” 

She nodded her head, murmured an apology, and disappeared down the hall. 

He watched her go for a moment and then slammed his head against the locker, trying to drown out the mindless sounds of a high school hallway and fight the growing urge to cry. 

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

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[wreckofawriter]

Redbull

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, a complete crack fic.

Song to Set the Vibe: Break Shit ~ Jasiah

Request: Reader gets extra homework from Snape and drinks redbull to finish it, she then freaks out becaue of overintake of caffeine

A/n: this is a crack fic plain and simple, kinda fun to write, I used it as an excuse to bash Snape and Pansy. It's not edited so ignore spelling and grammar(Ps I'm in love with Shigaraki Tomura so if anyone can help me that would be great)

    You rolled your eyes aimlessly flipping through your potions textbook in hopes to find something worth your time inside of it. You found nothing but continued to scan the pages, thoughts wandering to random topics. You groaned wondering if you could catch Harry’s attention from across the room. You cursed Snape for separating you, now you were stuck next to Pansy Perkins, someone you would sooner pitch from the autonomy tower than have a civilized conversation with, although you doubted she was able to have such things. You let out another loud sigh as your stares into your boyfriend’s head gave you no reaction. 

Pansy turned, glaring. You stuck your tongue out at her and she scoffed turning away. 

    “You’re disgustingly childish.” she spat inching her seat away from you. 

    “At least I’m not in love with a boy who finds me annoying and borderline repulsive.” You shot back. 

    She scowled back at you, “Shut your filthy mouth, you know nothing about me.”

    “I know you’re an uppity bitch.” You shrugged back grinning. 

    She let out a high pitched shriek as you struggled to keep in giggles. Eyes snapped toward your table and you looked towards your desk-mate pretending to be shocked by her outburst. 

    “Ms. Perkinson, is everything alright?” Snape was clearly uninterested in her answer. 

    For a second you were sure she would snitch on you but she decided to keep her dignity intact and shook her head. 

    You snickered, waving to Harry who rolled his eyes playfully, a small grin on his face. 

    As Snape went back to his lesson you smirked at the red-faced girl, “Wow Perkionson you truly decided to keep your pride on that one didn’t you?” 

    She responded with nothing no longer playing along. 

    “That’s something I would have done, you know us prideful Gryffindors. I suppose you were placed in the wrong house.” You continued to bait the girl. 

    She scoffed again, “I was put in the right house, thank you very much.” 

    “Oh sure, you were.” You bit your lip in thought before an idea revealed itself. “Oh my Godric, Draco is totally staring at you.” You gasped in mock surprise. 

    She snapped to attention spinning around to look where the blonde was seated only to find him asleep at his desk. You laughed quietly as she spun around to glare at you again. 

    “I’m only kidding of course,” You chuckled, “I’m sure he would rather stare at a troll’s ass than you, I know I sure would.” 

    Her cheeks blossomed with red anger, her eyes narrowing to slits as you held back barking laughter. “Shut up.” Her voice was shaky with fury. 

    “Ooo, looks like I’ve struck a nerve.” You jeered happily. “ ‘fried Darcy is never gonna love your little pug face?” 

    Apparently you took it too far because the girl leapt to her feet swinging her wand at you, “Flipendo!”

    You flipped straight off your chair and was flung into the desk next to you, a splintering pain shooting through your back. You didn’t let it show laughing as you stood “What?! Can’t take the truth pug-face?” You snatched your wand from your robes, “Tentaclifors!” 

    Pansy’s head was replaced by a large grey tentacle in seconds, “At least now you’ll look better!” You barked in a wide grin. Laughter and shouts echoed around you but your joy was cut in one swift flash. 

    “Y/l/n!” 

    You turned to see your professor, his anger quite evident amongst his dull features. 

    “Ms. Greengrass, please escort Ms. Perkinson to the hospital wing.” He snarled as you bit back a giggle. 

    “Since you seem to find dueling with a classmate while I’m teaching so amusing, y/l/n, I expect six pages on the essay due tonight instead of two.” He snapped. 

    “But she fired first!” You defended.

    “I simply do not care.” He responded, “I want six pages.” 

    You glared at the man mumbling some unpleasant words under your breath before taking your seat again. At least you only had ten minutes of class left. 

    Saying you liked to procrastinate would be an understatement. You were wildly in love with procrastination. You were an absolute expert at finding anything but your work to do. You shoved the essays and worksheets to the back of your mind and instead helped the twins with a prank or read a new book. You could close off the bad thoughts of school work like a pro, even Hermionie’s nagging couldn’t get you to work until the sunlight had faded and the stars were visible in the sky. 

    You had once again followed through on your usual routine and now at ten at night you were finally beginning to start your hours of work. 

    You groaned, “How can our professors be so cruel? This is a wildly unfair amount of work.”

    Hermione rolled her eyes, “Maybe if you had gotten started on it right away then you wouldn’t be so stressed right now.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled. 

    Harry who sat beside you, his head on your shoulder, arm around your waist peered at the textbooks you had placed in front of you. “Don’t you have that essay from Snape too?” 

    You whimpered, the sound of a wounded animal, “I totally forgot about that.” You buried your head into the dark-haired boy’s chest, “I’m so fucked.” 

    He chuckled earning a glare from you as you pouted up at him, “Sorry,” he murmured, “You’re just so cute.” 

    Ron groaned, “Can you not do that in front of me?” 

    Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t be jealous Ron, green is not a good color on you.” 

    “I am not jealous.” He scoffed. 

    “Whatever,” you whined, “Someone help me. I’m gonna pass out in like an hour.”

    “That’s your own fault.” Hermione pointed out, you ignored her picking up your transfiguration notes and beginning to scribble down answers. 

    Three hours later you were completely exhausted. Both Hermione and Ron had retired to their beds. Harry was beside you struggling to stay awake as he poured over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paragraph. Your eyelids felt too heavy and your mind was fogged over, memories smeared in the mud of fatigue. You were at your breaking point. 

    “I haven’t even started that stupid essay.” You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears. You hiccuped choking back sobs, “I can’t do this.” 

    Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards you. He sat next to you holding open his arms as you buried yourself into his embrace. You let yourself go, tears spilling down your cheeks onto the boy’s shoulder. 

    “Y/n/n.” He whispered causing you to look up at him. He cupped your head in his hands using his thumbs to wipe your tears, their cold temperature feeling refreshing against your hot sticky skin. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m gonna get you an energy drink and you're going to be just fine. I swear.” 

    “Energy drink?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

    He nodded, “I’ve got a whole bunch of them up in my room so I can stay up.” 

    “Okay.” You mumbled leaning into his touch which was so cruelly torn away from you. 

    “I’ll be right back.”

    Harry stumbled back down the stairs with a brightly colored box a few minutes later. You investigated one of the cans he had given you and frowned.

    “Redbull?” 

    He nodded, “Yeah muggles drink the stuff all the time, it's like super-powered coffee.” You shrugged, cracking open the can to a small fizz, “Careful it tastes like shit.” 

    You took a large swig anyway cringing at the taste but ignoring it. 

    You heard the hiss of carbonation and glanced over at Harry who was about to take a sip of the liquid. “Harry, go to bed, I’ll finish this myself.” 

    He glanced hazily at you, “Are you sure?” 

    You nodded, taking the drink from him, “I’ll be fine.” 

    “Okay.” He spoke hesitantly standing, “Love you y/n/n.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

    “Love you too.” You responded “Goodnight.” 

    He disappeared upstairs and you took another sip. 

    Harry awoke the next morning and clambered down the dormitory steps to find you pacing and what seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He scrunched his brow and continued across the room looking down when he heard a loud clang and felt something bounce off his shoe. It turned out to be a can that was sent rolling across the carpeted room knocking into three others on the way. 

You had now noticed the boy’s arrival and turned to greet him, “Harry!” You yelled a bit too loudly, “Thank Godric you’re up! I’ve been waiting for ages.” You scampered across the room laughing a bit. Harry noticed the almost hazy look in your eyes immediately, dark circles also accompanied them. 

“Y/n how long have you been up?” He hesitantly asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. 

You glanced down at your watch and did a bit of math, “26 hours give or take.” You were bouncing on your heels. 

Harry’s eyes widened, “You didn’t sleep at all?” 

“Couldn’t, that shit really works man,” You spoke too quickly, “Like really works” 

“Exactly how much did you have?” He wondered in part amazement part fear. 

“Umm like all of it.” You responded as you walked away from him and began to pack up your stuff in a rushed manner. 

“All of it?!” Harry choked out his eyes glancing around the room finding far too many can littering the floor.

You nodded, “Yep, yeppers, sure did. In fact, do you have any more? I think I might need to ride this high for a few more hours.” 

“Y/n, I’m not giving you anymore that is extremely unhealthy,” Harry said, watching as desperation filled your eyes only to be replaced by determination. 

You sprinted towards his stairs, tripping on one but standing before you could even feel the bruise begin to form on your knee. 

“Y/n/n what are you doing?” Harry called after you, “Hey get down here!” 

By the time Harry managed to make it up the stairs you had already pulled another box of the drinks from under his bed, ripped it open and was drinking a can. Ron who was shirtless apparently changing stared at you in horror. 

“The hell y/n!” 

You laughed, “Bug off Ron.” Your voice was so rushed it was almost inaudible. You then ran from the room dodging Harry and stumbling back down the stairs. Harry chased after you frantically. “Y/n!” 

You laughed again, “Let’s head to breakfast Harry!” You then skipped out of the portrait hole. 

By the time potions rolled around you had finished off almost all of the cans in the new box you had stolen before Harry managed to snag it from you. You were still hours from crashing and insisted on running on your good feeling. Literally. 

You sprinted through the halls not much caring about the students and teachers you bumped into. You ran straight through Nearly Headless Nick and shrieked at the icy temperature you plunged into but kept running. You reached the dungeons in record time before running into Malfoy who cussed at you. 

You turned to face him in a whirlwind, “You know Draco, I think I’m quite a nice person but you make me just want to break your nose.” You said it so matter-of-factly his eyes went wide and you were gone before he could answer. 

You made it to the potions room and burst inside Harry wheezed for breath at the door deciding he needed to work out more. 

“Snape!” You called loudly plopping onto your desk and removing your papers, scrawled in messy handwriting. 

“It’s Professor Snape.” He corrected you in a snarl. 

You blinked owlishly at him tilting your head to the side, “But I’m not a professor.” 

Snape frowned, dropping his mouth to say something but before he could, you lunged at him, shoving your homework into his hands and laughing wildly as he stumbled backward. 

“Y/l/n what on earth is wrong with you?” He spat. 

You shrugged, “Redbull.”��

“What is a Red Bull?” he scoffed. 

“A potion.” You responded and Harry snorted, “You haven’t heard of it? It's something muggles made, it helps keep you awake when your dickwad of a teacher gives you extra homework.” 

Snape’s face flashed, red anger crawling onto his pale visage, “10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher.” 

You snickered, “Make it twenty you greasy hairball.” 

He did. 

Pansy found sitting next to you extremely difficult, you continued to pick at your desk, leg bouncing absentmindedly as you hummed a song. 

“Have you gone insane y/l/n?” she asked in a hushed whisper refusing to meet your eye after yesterday’s duel. 

“Yes.” you confirmed loudly, “I was forced to look at you.” Snickers and laughs echoed around you and you smiled smugly. “I can’t even imagine what it's like for poor Malfoy when you shove yourself into his face every hour. No wonder he constantly looks like he has a broom handle shoved up his ass.” 

This caused Seamus who sat a few seats from you to laugh so hard his eyes began to water as his deskmate Dean chuckled helplessly. 

“Y/l/n!” Snape hissed, “Do you think this is a comedy club?”

“Considering you’re the one in charge it should be.” You answered. “But you aren’t very funny, so maybe not.” 

Seamus howled slamming his hand on his desk as Ron damn near fell out of his chair. Gryffindor lost more points and Harry decided to never give you an energy drink ever again. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[gloomyhearts]

That's life || Steve Harrington

Chapter eight

November 10, 1983

Y/N's pov

"Dustin what's wrong?" He threw the door closed.

"Mike and Lucas fought and won't talk to each other" we sat on the sofa.

"and what happened?" I turned to face him.

"We searched after the gate."

"The new north?"

"Yeah and at some point Luke's compass showed another North than mine. Luke said that Eleven would manipulate them. Mike and him discussed over half an hour and then it escalated El threw Luke with his power against a car and Luke drove away. He never left us like that when he and Mike argued. I lost my party. I've got nothing left."

"You have me." I laughed to brighten him a bit up but it failed and he started to cry.

"Dusti, sweatheart everything will be fine. I know it. You all have this inseperable bond and no one will ever break it. You have to convince Mike to apoloize to Luke and then it'll be alrigth, trust me." he burried in my arms as we lay down on the sofa.

"I hope so. I can't loose another friends beside Will."

We lay in silence when our parents entered the room, yeah their travel week has end today.

I think by the time they entered Dustin was asleep. As my mother stood by the couch she mouthed 'is he?" and I only nodded. My dad came to us and carried Dustin in his arms to his room upstairs. Dustin is a deep sleeper in the second he fell asleep the world could end and he would'nt wake up. When my dad was out of the room my mom sat down next to me.

"So what happened?" I told my mother something on the phone but not everything, she shouldn't be involved too much.

"As I told you. Will went missing and a few days after he was found in the Lake. Two days ago we were on his funeral. Dustin is really damaged through this accident. He feels sorry that he couldn't protect Will. And today Luke and Mike argued and Dusti fears that his party is falling apart." she looked shocked at me after telling the events we went through the whole week alone.

"You don't have to worry mom. Dustin and I are fine. We have got each other and he knows I'm helping him with everything."

"I'm proud that you both love each other so much." she gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

On the next day when I arrived at school there was this tension, I can't describe it but it was there. It was because of the funeral a few days ago but not that everyone was involved.

It was only the three of us, Nancy, Jonathan and me.

At lunch we sat in the nearst corner so nobody could eavesdrop our conversation.

"Ok so Nancy and I want to buy weapons and go for a hunt."

"This afternoon." Nancy adds after Jonathon doesn't seem to speak on.

"This afternoon? Why? I don't know if I can. I have to ask my mom. Maybe we could meet there or I'm coming where you're getting ready."

"Jonathan and I went to the forest behind Steve's house and there was something, we want to hunt." they both nodded as the school bell rang.

"See you later" we seperate and I went to my math class but have to stop at my locker before.

No one was in the hallway what was kind of creepy because otherwise it was full because students wanted to delay the break.

"Y/N." Someone touched my shoulder but I know exactly who it was.

"What?" I turned to face him.

"Why are Nanc and Jonathan hanging out so much lately?"

"I don't know. Ask her yourself I suggest"

"Do you know something? I saw them yesterday in Nanc' bedroom."

"Steve." I shut my locker and turn to him, "I really don't know even if I'd, I don't care about it."

"Why are you so harsh?"

"Why do you even care at all?"

"Because" he came closer and whispered, "I'm still caring about you. I still worry about you. I'm still your best friend"

He is what?! Where was he when I lost my grandmother, when Barb went missing?

"Ah no, Stephen. I don't believe you. You were my best friend yeah that's right but I wouldn't call you a friend anymore. So excuse me." I began to walk to my classroom and bumped intentionally his shoulder.

During my bike drive to the Byers house I listened to my favourite music on my Walkman including 'eye of the tiger' and 'under pressure'.

When I arrived at the location there were no one not even miss Byers.

Through the window I can see some Christmas lights hanging around in the living room and letters written on the wall.

Strange.

I took my bike and drove away.

When I drove by at the supermarket I saw Steve and his best friends standing around his car. Steve held a cola bottle to his eyes.

What happened there?

I didn't even notice that my feet were riding my bike to the entry of the market. As I arrived there Steven jumped up from his car and walked towards me.

"Y/N, hey there" he tried to hug me.

"What happened to your face" I pointed at his eye.

"Ah my friend Jonathan and I beat each other up. Nothing to worry about"

"someone has to nurse it." He approached to me.

"Maybe you could. I trust you" I just laughed. "Please it hurts really bad and my friend over there aren't a good help."

"Fine but only this time. We meet at my house, Harrington" he nodded and I began to ride home.

"What took you so long" he walked to the door.

"Thomas and I fought a bit but it's okay. He's an asshole"

oh really

"jup he is" I opened the door and we walked into the house. Mews came running to us and Steve cuddled her immediately.

"I missed her really bad" I just nodded and walked upstairs to my room.

"you coming?" I heard footsteps on the stairs and moments later Steve stand next to me.

"Sit down. Feel yourself home."

"I'm always feeling home when you're around." He held my wrist

"Steve please." The tension between us is thick you could cut it.

"I'm getting ice and some band aid." I walked to the bathroom and when I arrived in my room I saw that Steve was reading something.

Shit!

"What are you doing?" He frightened as he heard me.

"I was just" he laid the paper down. "I'm sorry" he sat down on my bed and put his hand next to him to show that I should sit next to him.

"What did you read?"

"Your homework?" I walked over to desk and picked the book which declares to be my diary.

What? He didn't. Wait.

"Did you read my diary"

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I didn't want to."

"You saw that it wasn't a normal book but you didn't stop. Steve I wanted to help you but now" I grow angry and couldn't held my anger back. "Steve you're an asshole I can't believe I was so naive to help you. Leave!" I shout at him but he didn't go.

He stood up and walked over to me.

"Y/N I'm so sorry I was and still am an asshole. I was so stupid to let you down. I'm so dumb. I can't believe I left you only to be popular, to become a completely asshole. I'm so sorry to hurt you. You were my best friend and I still hope we can be friends again." By now I started to cry and Steve embraced me.

"I read the letter you wrote and I'm so sorry. I always look at our pictures we made. I miss you everytime I see you in school I want to go to you and talk. Nancy often talks to me about you how you seem to be alone and cold towards her and Barbara and I think it's my fault. Its all my fault." I let out a sob.

"Y/N I was such a dumb boy" I heard Steve sobbing too.

"I can't believe you didn't want to say all the things to me. You know you can always tell me everything. Why didn't you told me that you love me?" I gathered my courage and spoke the first time in forever

"It's not that easy Steve."

"What?"

"First when I'm talking to you everyone would stare at us and call me a whore because I'm talking to a boy in a relationship. And second you wouldn't have cared about it. You would have left for Nancy anyways. You had liked her since ever."

"Ok wait. Nancy is hanging out with Jonathan lately I don't even think I'm her boyfriend anymore. And second because I loved you too but I was afraid to tell you"

"But you love Nancy right?"

"Yeah but it's difficult" by now I began to cry and he sat down on my bed next to me.

"I'm so sorry Steve. I couldn't handle it. And it's my fault I lost you. I wasn't enough for you."

"No.. no you were and you are still perfect" he gently put a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked down onto the floor but felt his graze on me.

"And why did you fought with Jon?"

"Tommy and Carol thought they would be funny if they would let Nancy be starring in the movie theater. They called Nancy a slut after I told them she was with Jonathan yesterday in her room. Jonathan backed up for her. He's at the police station."

"What the hell" I ran my finger through my y/hc hair.

"Nancy slapped me and then Jonathan came and threw his fist in my face and it escalated."

"You're an idiot Harrington." I rolled my eyes. Slowly it feels like it's going to be normal even after the talk before.

Don't let him in again.

"Steve you should go." He nodded and walked toward the door.

"See you in school Y/N" I only nodded as and he left.

Dearest Steve,

Thanks for the memories that you gave me over all those years. I really appreciate that we were friends until Tommy our biggest enemy brought us apart. I did everything for you even if it seemed impossible and crazy. I love you from the very first day and I always gonna love you.

Even if you'll never get this letter I want you to know that you're my everything, my life and my best friend.

I hate being apart from you and not talking to you kills me. Every time I see you and Nancy kissing it kills myself. I'm dead inside and you left. You gave me power to live to hold on but then you left. Puberty really changed you just as Tommy did.

I miss the time when we lay under the stars and talked about our wishes and dreams. My dream now is to go back; to have my Steve back. I had loved it when you were around and we acted like we don't care what others are thinking mostly when we did the weirdest things. I was proud that my best friend is a year over me at school and still likes to meet me.

But the horrible thing is that we see us at school and don't even look at each other. I miss your beautiful brown eyes which light up when you were laughing over my bad jokes. I miss your fluffy hair and your crazy secret behind it. I would love to go back but I can't and I know it. I know I treat you like shit but its just to protect myself not to be hurt again.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act I, #3 ~ Movie Marathon (Nathan Prescott)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Halloween

Word Count: 2,876

Pairing: Reader x Nathan

World: Life is Strange

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The bell rang, signaling the end of class. You stretched your arms above your head, your back cracking. For some reason, the day felt like it had passed by agonizingly slow, and you still had another class before you could go home. Unlike most of the students that attended Blackwell Academy, you didn’t live in the dorms on campus – your apartment was a five-minute walk away. The main reason you chose not to live in the dorms is that you didn’t much care to be brought into all the drama that the students thrived off of.

You gathered your things before stepping out of the classroom. Your best friend was waiting near the door, his fingers flying across the keyboard on his phone. Sean Jamison stood at five-foot-five, his thin frame covered by a pair of jeans and a chocolate brown sweater. His blonde hair looked like it had been cut using a bowl, and his brown eyes shined with mischief. He was a technology geek that planned to major in computer science and game design when he graduated.

He glanced over at you, pushing his square glasses up with his middle finger. “Last period is math, your favorite.”

You scowled at him as you passed. “Don’t remind me. We can’t all be number genius’ like you.”

Sean chuckled, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, the number genius won’t let you fail!”

“You better not. I can’t afford to flunk because of one subject.” You entered the classroom, making a beeline for the table at the back but Sean tightened his grip, pulling you back.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N.” he wagged his finger in your face. “How can you learn properly sitting in the back of the class?”

“I am not sitting in the front,” you deadpanned.

Sean frowned, pushing up his glasses. The fluorescent lights reflected off of the lenses, hiding his eyes. “Then we can compromise by sitting in the middle.”

You didn’t care for that, either, but it was better than sitting up front. There were four rows of three desks, allowing two people per desk. You scanned the room before choosing the third row from the front, sitting under one of the large windows. Sean sat beside you, focusing on his mobile game.

There were still a few minutes before class began, so you turned your attention to the window. It was the beginning of October, the sky overcast as a chilly breeze knocked leaves from the trees, colored in various shades of brown and orange. The school grounds had been covered in leaves. If you didn’t watch your step, it was easy to slide and lose your footing, hitting the ground. Just ask Miss Grant, the science teacher. She had been peddling another petition to passing students and wasn’t paying attention to the ground. Too bad she was wearing a skirt that day – her underwear choice had been the talk of the school for a week.

You felt eyes watching you and you glanced at Sean, but he was still buried in his game, hiding the phone between the desk and his lap so the teacher wouldn’t see it when she entered. You scanned the room, eyes locking with those belonging to the one and only Nathan Prescott. He was sat at the opposite end of the class in the back row. When he realized you caught him staring, he snapped his head in the opposite direction.

You frowned, turning to the teacher as she entered the room.

As expected, class was long and boring, and you found yourself zoning in and out more than a couple of times. Sean was going back and forth between taking notes and elbowing you in the side whenever the teacher sent you a pointed look. By the time class ended, your side was sore – you were sure it would bruise by tomorrow.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” he questioned as he shoved his books into his bag.

You hummed, thoughtfully, doing the same. “I’ll probably just watch a few horror movies and sleep.”

He tsked. “So much youth, wasted.”

“And what are your brilliant plans?” you scoffed, but immediately regretted it as his eyes lit up.

“Isn’t it obvious? Dino Murder Force 2 is finally being released tomorrow and I’m going to camp out in front of the store tonight so I can get my copy, then I’m going to spend the entire weekend beating the game I’m going to be the first to write an in-depth review!”

You stared at him, blankly.

He had said all of that without pausing for air, so he huffed when he finished the run-on sentence. Saying nothing, you slung your bag over your shoulder and left the room, ignoring Sean as he called after you, “You don’t understand the brilliance that is Dino Murder Force, Y/N!”

“Stop yelling, Mr. Jamison!” The teacher scolded him.

You chuckled. He was such a weirdo, but he was your weirdo.

You stepped outside, a blast of cold air stinging your skin. Autumn, in your opinion, was the calmest, most peaceful time of year. There seemed to be less drama around this time, and that was something you appreciated. Halloween was pretty cool, too.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You paused near the gate, looking over your shoulder.

Nathan was jogging toward you, his usual cocky expression switched out for a nervous one.

“What’s up?” you asked, softly.

“Can I… walk you home?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

‘It’s only a five-minute walk, it can’t hurt…’ you contemplated it for a moment before nodding. “Sure,” You walked side by side, his hand occasionally bumping against your own. It brought back a flood of memories.

The first time you had met Nathan, you were in kindergarten. Back then, he was a pretty shy kid, but he was so cute that the girls in class naturally migrated towards him. He had this polarizing aura that pulled people in. You appreciated how he tried to help others the best that he could. Deep down, though, he was already beginning to harbor feelings of self-doubt and loathing.

One day during recess, you chased a rubber ball that had been kicked to the back of the building. That’s where you found him, curled up against the building as his small body shook with silent sobs. Instinctively, you rushed over to him and brought him into your arms, running your hand through his hair as you told him it would be okay. That was the first time you had spoken to him and, from that day onward, Nathan stuck to you like glue. You were his best friend, the rock that kept him grounded.

Having him depend on you so strongly made you feel needed and happy, and you oftentimes dropped whatever you were doing to accommodate him and provide comfort when he was upset, which was slowly becoming more common as you both grew.

As your relationship deepened, his parents started to take notice of you. They didn’t think that you were good enough to be friends with Nathan, and they were sure you were just trying to get to his money. Your family had no social standing, and your single mom worked three jobs just to make ends meet. In their eyes, you were trash, but they always acted pleasant on the rare occasions you met them. You had no idea how they truly viewed you.

Nathan never told you how his parents put you down and insulted your mother, or how they pressured him to stop spending time with you, but you knew him like the back of your hand and you knew he was beginning to change. The shy, kind little boy that you had become so close to was starting to morph before your eyes, but Nathan Prescott did not morph into a beautiful butterfly, he morphed into a monster – arrogant, entitled, and full of hatred.

The time you spent together became less and less frequent until, in the second year of middle school, he completely cut you out of his life. You tried talking to him, to demand an answer, but he was always surrounded by his new friends. Every time you got close, they would make fun of you and Nathan would just stand there, acting like you didn’t exist.

You became invisible to him.

While you were friendly with the other kids in your class, Nathan had been your only friend. Now you were left alone.

Shortly after, your mom began quite ill after pushing herself to keep working. She ended up being hospitalized. It was at this time that you met Sean, who found you in a similar way that you had first met Nathan.

Sean was a loner, preferring to tinker with his games and gadgets over talking to his peers, but he knew that you didn’t have any friends and he recognized that you were very distressed. Rather than bring you into his arms like you had to Nathan all those years ago, his way of comforting you consisted of forcing a handheld game into your lap and making you play with him. It wasn’t conventional, but it helped.

Your mom passed away a month after you started at Blackwell.

Nathan came to the funeral, returning to the empty apartment with you. He held you, allowing you to cry your heart out until you finally fell asleep, clutching his shirt in your fist. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone. There was a thick envelope left on the table – ‘sorry’ was the only thing written on it. Inside was a key to an apartment on the other side of town and fifteen grand in cash.

You remember thinking how typical it was that he thought cash could solve everything.

You didn’t want to accept the money, but he gave you no chance to return it. The apartment had been paid for in advance for the next four years, but you still had bills to pay and needed to buy food, not to mention the tuition for Blackwell. No job given to a high school student would be enough to pay for everything, so you did end up using some of the money, but you used it sparingly, only taking out enough for the bare necessities. In the meantime, you had gotten a part-time job at Two Whales diner.

A couple weeks later and you found another envelope in your mail. It read: ‘Quit your job. I’ll send you a monthly payment – N.’ Enclosed was fifteen hundred dollars.

You didn’t like this at all, but Nathan did what he wanted, and what he wanted he got. He had you fired from your job, knowing you wouldn’t quit on your own. You considered confronting him about everything, but that would require stepping out into the spotlight and you didn’t need that kind of drama in your life.

Even after all that, he still treated you like you didn’t exist, despite the monthly payment that was put in your mailbox every month.

So why the sudden change? Why was he suddenly approaching you after all this time?

Nathan frowned at your thoughtful expression. He knew he had royally screwed up the best thing he ever had but was it too late for him to fix things? “Hey, we’re here.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, right. Thanks…” you paused at the gate, hesitating. “Do you… want to come in?”

He nodded, not wanting to leave you just yet. Nathan followed you to the third floor, his mind running wild – he couldn’t remember a time that he felt so nervous.

You unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him enter. “Want something to drink?”

“Water,” he added as an afterthought. “Please.”

You stepped into the small kitchen attached to the living area, pouring out a glass of ice water for him and ice tea for yourself. He sat on the couch as you set the drinks on the coffee table, absentmindedly playing with the black rope around his right wrist.

Your eyes widened when you saw it and you reached out, holding his wrist so you could see it better. “You kept this?” It was a simple piece of rope with a yin-yang symbol tied through the front of it. You made it for him in fifth grade as a birthday present.

He quickly pulled his wrist away, his cheeks tinting as he tugged the sleeve of his jacket down. “It was a gift from you, of course I kept it.”

Those words went straight to your heart, making it increase in speed as it grew warm. You looked up at his face, taking in his appearance for the first time in a long time. His brown hair was slicked back but messy, as if he had run his hands through it nervously. His blue eyes, once bright and full of life, were dull and he had deep bags under them from a mixture of stress and lack of sleep. Overall, he looked exhausted and aged.

Seeing him in such a state made you frown.

“Stop staring at me,” he muttered, starting to feel self-conscious. People around him were constantly complimenting him, saying how gorgeous he is and how handsome, but he wasn’t very good at reading people, so he couldn’t tell if they were being genuine. Whenever you used to compliment him, it always felt genuine and made him feel happy, but when everyone else did it, it felt empty.

“Have you been sleeping, Nathan?” It was the first time you had said his name in so long, it made his breath catch in his throat. His body started to shake despite himself. “Nathan, what’s wro – ” you squeaked in surprise when he threw himself at you, sending you both to the ground. His arms were tight around your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You gently rubbed his back, free hand running through his soft hair. It had been so long since you last held him, but your body remembered the position perfectly.

“I’ve missed you… so goddamn much…” he sobbed, clutching you tighter. “I didn’t want to, to push you away… I had to do it! I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you sink with me…”

“Oh, Nathan,” you chided, softly. “You’ve always been such an idiot. You’re my best friend, I would have happily sank with you. And you know what? I would have dragged you back to the surface.”

“You’re too good… for me…” he cried.

You hummed, thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

It took a while for him to calm down and stop shaking, but you didn’t mind. Even after everything that had happened, he was still the most important person in your life. You would always be there to catch him when he fell.

“Can I… spend the night with you?” he asked, softly. He sounded like a child, lost and scared. The shy boy flashed in your mind.

“Of course you can,” you smiled, gently pushing him back. He pulled away from you, sliding back until he was leaning against the couch. His eyes were red and swollen, but they held more life than they had earlier. You pulled yourself to your feet, feeling pinpricks in your back and butt, unhappy about being squished against the wooden floor for so long. You glanced at the clock – it was eleven-ten. “Hey, Nathan?”

He glanced up at you.

“There’s a Halloween marathon starting in twenty minutes. Wanna watch it with me?”

Nathan smiled, remembering all the times you had binge-watched movies as kids. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You returned the smile before heading into the kitchen to make some popcorn. When you returned, Nathan had curled up on the couch with a blanket he had taken from your bedroom. He held one side of the blanket up and you squeezed in beside him, holding the bowl up as he flung it over your body. You turned the TV on and he moved closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

The first movie began, a cheap knock off of A Nightmare on Elm Street. He reached for your hand but hesitated. You smiled, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers with his.

After two movies, Nathan’s eyes started to droop. He fought against the sleep invading his mind, not wanting this moment to end, but his body and mind were exhausted. His head fell onto your shoulder, breath evening out. You smiled, turning down the TV so the screams wouldn’t disturb his rest.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring – if he would go back to ignoring you or if you could be friends again, but that didn’t matter to you at the moment. You had your best friend at your side and that’s all that mattered to you.

You brought his hand to your chest, holding it with both hands. ‘No matter what happens, I will always be here for you, Nathan Prescott,’ You pressed a kiss to his palm and he smiled in his sleep. For the first time since he was a child, he slept peacefully through the night.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

[marauders-map-irl]

this is Not An Accident (written very poorly by me)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: R*PE, M*RD*R, SELF-HATE, R*CISM, H*MOPH*BIA

Living here, in this small, ignorant town, going to my small, ignorant high school, looking like I do, loving who I do, sucks. And that’s to say the least. For some background, I live in a small town in the countryside of Tennessee, called Greenton. I go to a high school called Cookie-Cutter, which is pretty ironic because it is much like a high school you would see on tv.

Everyone pretty much hates us here. I can’t say that I blame them, though. I hate me too. My family is the only strange family here; everyone else is pretty normal (extremely so). Everyone mocks us and bullies us. My mum is African American and my father is Irish. They both joke that we’re the 21st century version of the Brady Bunch.

There’s 7 of us, including my parents and I. I’m right in the middle of my brothers and sisters, and perhaps the most normal, but that doesn’t say much. My eldest brother is John (20), and he’s the oldest of us all. He’s mixed like the rest of us, he’s cisgender male and gay. Then comes my eldest sister, Moira (19), who’s non-binary and pansexual. There’s me next (16), and I’m cisgender female, asexual, and aromantic. After me came my trans (female-male) brother (12), Mikey, and he’s heterosexual. Lastly came my sister, Brittany (9), who’s showing signs of being demiromantic.

We’re the only people that aren’t white in the entire town, and we only came here to help dad’s parents in retirement. The town is extremely ignorant, and it doesn’t help that we came from a big city either. In school, I’m an outcast, though I suppose it’s better than being constantly bullied still. They’ve stopped all contact with me completely, deeming my lack of wanting any sexual activities at my age strange. The teachers even think I’m weird too, and as such have either called on me excessively or just stick to grading my perfect papers and not making any conversation with me if unnecessary. I tend to get perfect grades, what with having absolutely no platonic ties to anyone outside family.

That brings me to where we are currently. In math class, staring out of a window I’m somehow always seated by. The teacher, whatever her name is, is droning on and on about a group project worth half of our final grade for the year. Three people just either groaned or were making tiny grunts of displeasure, meaning I was in a group this time. This project must actually be important. I look up about 4 minutes later, when someone sits next to me and taps my shoulder. Looking up, it’s the very person that continues to poke fun at me, Jessica Kaileia. Well, Jessica, 1 of her most loyal cronies, and another nerd. Sam, I think his name is, and I recall he always eats a slice or two of pie everyday at lunch.

“Do you need something?” I ask Jessica coldly, averting my eyes quickly from her makeup-caked face.

“We’re project partners, Mckinlay. Otherwise I wouldn’t risk my wellbeing talking to you, trust me,” she smirks slightly and her cronie sniggers, but I just roll my eyes and Sam snorts.

“So we’re using last names? Didn’t think you liked your last name anymore, what with your father being a serial killer, Kaileia,” Sam says, making me hold in my giggles as Jessica shrieks.

“You forgot the part where her mum left her for a woman,” her cronie says in disgust, clearly trying and failing to conceal her own laughter.

“Mackenzie!!” Jessica says in a shriek that would rival that of Petunia Dursley.

“Watch your volume, Ms. Kaileia,” the teacher says in her monotone voice, barely glancing up from her issue of The Quibbler.

“Yes, Ms. Binns. Sorry, Ms. Binns,” Jessica says, rolling her eyes before returning to glare at Sam and I respectfully.

“What was the assignment?” I ask, wanting to rid myself of these potentially cruel people as quickly as possible.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it done by tomorrow and put your names on it. I am second in our year. Of course, I will need your first and last names, well, not yours Kaileia,” Sam states, staring at the packet of instructions and not looking up at us once.

“Yes, well I’m first so I’d actually like to do the work, if you don’t mind. Not that princess Allura and her bestie Romelle here would appreciate getting a fair share of the project,” I say, snatching the packet gently and looking it over.

“Who are they?” the cronie asks, making both Sam and I snort.

“Homewreckers one and two,” Sam says as I divide the instructions in half and give the easy half to Sam.

“Language, Mr. Avery,” the teacher’s monotone voice rings throughout the classroom and Sam apologizes half-heartedly.

“Wait, why do I get the easy part of the assignment?” he asks me offrontedly.

“Because I’m the first in our class,” I answer easily in a ‘duh’ tone, to which he nods with a slight frown.

The assignment was straightforward and easy, although to Jessica and her friend, it would be like rocket science to a 3 year old. I set to work, knowing that if I start now, my half would be done by the end of lunch hour. I didn’t pay much attention to my bullies, though them being in my peripheral didn’t support the cause at all. They were seemingly doing their nails (more like the minion doing Jessica’s nails) and talking about stereotypical popular girl things. The tiny bits that I actually heard made me roll my eyes so hard and so often I was worried they might actually get stuck.

“What’s your name? I need to know for the project,” I ask the she-devil’s minion, but she looks to Jessica for confirmation before speaking.

“Clara Maythers,” she mutters, as though the mere thought of speaking to someone as ‘abnormal’ as me scared her very being.

I nod half-heartedly before adding her name to the list and continuing the project, trying once again to ignore the ignorant bastards behind me. I turn slightly when I see Jessica forcing Clara to hold up a magazine for her to read while she blows her wet nails dry, making sure I couldn’t see them at all. When I was looking over what I had, the intercom came on and the principal spoke. Her voice shook with laughter and I’m sure her face was turned up in a smirk. It was probably another prank. This is Cookie-Cutter, after all. We’re a very stereotypical high school and I’m a very… let’s just say mold-breaking student.

“Could Ms. Alessia Mckinlay come to the front desk to be collected. There has been a family emergency,” she says family as if she doesn’t believe my strange family is one, and I’m sure she doesn’t. There’s incoherent words being said to the principal and she grudgingly continues. “Please,” and after that, the intercom cuts off and all heads turn my way.

I make my way to the front office, as asked, and am hit with sneers, sympathetic looks, and pretty much everything between hate and loathing. I’m not even able to make my way to the front office before my parents steer me away from looking in the lobby. I look at them with a mix of skepticism and worry. Principal Maera did say there was a family emergency, after all.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to look over my parents’ shoulders and failing, due to them forming a wall in front of whatever they were hiding.

“Your sister… There was an accident and…” mum cuts herself off there with a choked sob, making me look to my father for the remaining explanation.

“They…” my father then stops himself, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, either searching for the right words or not wanting to say them aloud (although in retrospect, it’s probably a mix of both).

At this point, I’m worried for all of my sisters, frustrated with my parents for not telling me what’s wrong, and attempting to stay positive and force all the negative thoughts from my head. I manage to shove through the human wall before me and my body freezes at the sight. Laying in front of my eyes is my little sister, Brittany, battered, bruised, broken, and lifeless. Her pants are down to her ankles, her rainbow underwear just past her knees, and blood is drying and caking around her…

I tear my eyes away, but they somehow end up right back at her. This time, though, I’m studying her face. It’s frozen in pain, but there’s also an air of peacefulness present. There’s bruises forming around her neck and littering her face, but I try not to focus on that. I try to focus on all her happy memories. I try to focus on her laughing as mum caught her cheating in Monopoly. I try to focus on dad hiding a grin as she stole a bit of the cake batter for my birthday last year. I try to focus on Brit. But it’s so hard. I try to focus on her happy times. But I always end up looking into her wide, horrified eyes.

My body’s seemingly on autopilot now, because I somehow make it over to my 9 year old sibling to shut her eyes properly, but I didn’t think about it. I thought about how someone could do this to a child. I thought about who could do this to a child. I thought about why someone would do this to a child.

But soon enough, a camera flashes, and then 2, then 5, and then I’m surrounded not only by my baby sister’s blood, but light from what seems like millions of phones. Soon enough, I feel like I’m under a microscope, and viscous scientists are picking apart my every move. Soon enough, I’m back to the main lobby of Cookie-Cutter High School in Greenton, Tennessee. And soon enough, the laughing, mocking, sneering, jeering students return full force.

I hear my mum crying in the background and muttering something about this being an accident. About it having to be an accident. That just makes me mad. Does she not see the freshman taking pictures of her youngest child’s corpse? Does she not see the sophomores laughing mercilessly at her and my tears alike? Does she not hear the juniors yelling at us that our whole family is a disgrace to human-kind? Does she not hear the seniors telling us that we all deserve the same fate? Does she not see my principal’s smug smirk as she watches the whole event and does absolutely nothing?

“This wasn’t an accident. How can you beat someone up on accident? How can you rape someone on accident? How can you murder an innocent child ON ACCIDENT? I get that you’re in shock or whatever, I really do. BUT HOW THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT? PEOPLE HAVE BULLIED US EVER SINCE WE MOVED HERE! THEY MOCK, TEASE, PUNCH, BUT NOW THEY’VE GONE TOO FAR!” my father is telling me to stop yelling, but I don’t hear him. All I know is that I see red, whether that be from the blood pooling at my feet or rage, I have no clue. “DON’T YOU SEE THEM LAUGHING, RECORDING, YELLING AT US?! DON’T YOU SEE HOW THIS COULD NOT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN AN ACCIDENT?!” and by now, I’m crying, but she has to know. She has to become aware. She has to stop this. She has to. “Please,” I say to no one in particular, taking my sister’s dead body in my arms and sinking down to sit on the floor.

I can’t do anything but hug my now limp sister and pray that this is just another practical joke. Hope that she’s not really gone. Wish that I could have been a good big sister and protected her.

She had so much life left to live. She was only NINE, for god’s sake! She was going to grow up! She was going to make it past the fourth grade! She was going to do well in school and get into the college she wanted to go to! She was going to be successful in her career and her life! She was going to die when she was old and senile and only after beating a terminal disease like cancer, because that’s the stubborn bastard she is. Was.

This wasn’t an accident.

[perogipoj]

all this before coffee

Dedicated to my black sheep family, who will always be golden.

 Barbed wire, blank walls and an empty sky. Cocoa Beach.  Brevard County, FL. Jail.  Also known as SHARPS.  Tammy walked into the classroom with an air of bravado coupled with the eyes of a child. I never met a teacher before she said shyly, glancing at her handcuffs on the uncomfortable chair.  Even … I hesitated, even in school, I asked gently. I adjusted my own hips to adjust for the cold hard beneath me.  I mean, a teacher for real.  Her eyes looked down, and I implored with my eyes this time to the corrections officer to remove the handcuffs.  Her shoulder length hair was marred by black roots and mustard colored ends.  There were scars on her arm from cutting.  Her teeth were perfect when she decided to smile. Opening the GRE materials, I joked that I am useless at math but fairly good at grammar.  Tammy looked beautiful.

 Some of us take many things too far.  That has seemed to be my pattern.  Even healthy habits turned into obsessions.  Jogging turned into running which became marathons and a cruel treatment of my body.  Some can run into their seventies without injury as some people live to a hundred while smoking and drinking whiskey to the end.  Mindful eating became anorexia and bulimia.  Going organic made me broke with the kombucha and hemp that flowed through my veins.  Being tidy led me to compulsive house cleaning, often with bleach scouring my hands and my eyes colored in pink tears.  Personal grooming turned to hours and dollars of hair coloring, clothes I could not afford, Botox, and breast augmentation. Wanting affirmation led to dangerous and toxic sexual situations.  

 Jaylen, I was warned, was “special.”  I would normally groan inward, used to so many parents highlighting their children as such, usually to explain poor grades.   The volunteer walked all twelve years of Jaylen, his mannerisms large and chaotic, into the room in which all toys and colors were removed.  I hate reading, he said, standing with his arms crossed in front of him like a knight.  Why? It’s stupid.  Can you read, I asked, opening the second-grade reader I was given. I don’t need to read, I can dance.

 I met The Peruvian on a last minute, pathetic online date.  I was at a job expo to acquire my first teaching job after finishing my master’s degree at a world-famous university.  I almost flunked out.  I could not focus.  I cried over social histories in German, a language I lacked grammatical skill in, dreading the meetings with just my professor and another grad student. Black tea, discussions of Marx I got lost in, his approval nodding at the stout Russian girl I already had difficulty understanding in English, never mind in German.  In college, I was stellar.  On time to each class, writing papers late into the night with a gusto of my fingers and a smile on my face.  The world looked bright. On a sweltering day with an incompressible and unimportant commencement speaker, we burnt in the sun and passed around a flask of vodka under our graduation gowns.  Life is beginning.  I held the parchment color graduation schedule. My name had a star next to it.

 I saw that Tammy was no longer shackled when she entered the gray room.  Since the week I met with her, she had elevated herself to the trusted inmates who could clean, deliver meals, and hand out the dog-eared pages of books on a squeaky cart.  So, you scored extremely high on many levels, Tammy.  Let’s take a look at the reading comprehension packet I assigned on The Scarlet Letter.  She smiled more brightly.  I pressed her for intrigue. Ma’am, she said glowing, my commissary is so lit now I don’t have to eat the garbage they give us.  They try to pass off expired food when I deliver it.  I wanted to call them out on those pistachios.  I don’t have time to answer these packets you give me. But I read the book.  What did you read, according to you?  We clasped hands.  Of course, the minster got off and Hester had to wear the giant A over her pilgrim costume.  I dipped my head. Of course.  She could read Hawthorne.  

 I will be the gladdest thing

           Under the sun!

I will touch a hundred flowers

           And not pick one.

 I will look at cliffs and clouds

           With quiet eyes,

Watch the wind bow down the grass,

           And the grass rise.

 And when the lights begin to show

           Up from the town,

I will mark which much be mine,

           And then start down.

-          Edna St. Vincent Millay  

 Jaylen came running into the room from the play center and basketball court which I assumed was a courtesy to me.  He needed to get the wiggles out.

 Nassau Point in the summer at Aunt Tillie’s, driving the Long Island Expressway until it ended to countless grey and white mottled roads.  Passing vineyards that used to be potato fields, cramming my mouth with the last bit of contraband Doritos which were called a Special Treat to nullify us on the vast expanse from New Jersey to the tiny white house.  Decorated in “Early American” with a front glass porch smelling oddly pleasant of moth balls and sunlight.  The huge lawn rolling into the bay with a dock that appeared and disappeared with the tide.  Kids took showers in the dank basement, carved out of a space teeming of a hoarder. A crusted bottle of prell shampoo and a withered sliver of ivory soap.  I met Man-Boy With Very Hairy Legs for the first and last time.  Stroking my legs up and down, he asked if I had a boyfriend.  I was ten, and smug that I could run through poison ivy and never get a rash.  Do you want to fool around, like do stuff?  He whispered into my ear everything I did not know yet.  That’s what married people do!  With his laughter, I leapt my long legs and ran, up the hill, to the driveway where my father was shucking corn.  I got away. This time.

 I was so excited to see Tammy.  But she was not in attendance.  I left the CO the beat-up copy of Antigone for her. I never saw Tammy again.  “All men make mistakes, but a good man yields when his course is wrong and repairs the evil.  The only evil is pride.” This quote was for my betterment, not for Tammy’s.

 A time of reckoning, and a time of complete growth.  A time of a schedule not placed by us.  A journey into us through the connection of others, who became best friends.  Vitamin fusions, lining up for medication in ribbed short paper cups, and Group.  Totally released from responsibility, my linens and clothes were washed, returned the same afternoon in compact squares surrounded by plastic wrap.  Jokes of communal constipation. So, this is my brain mapped.  Here is what displays depression, here anxiety, this is insomnia, that part shows a lack of memory and concentration.  What is that big blue of the Pacific Ocean?  She looked at me, clicked her keyboard.  PTSD.  

 I want to draw a Parrot! P-A-R-R-O-T and speak like one! Wordless, I handed him the blue and black expo markers for the old white board.  With precision, he drew the bird.  I need more colors, he explained in one breath can I talk like a parrot.  I smiled at him at led him to his desk. Let’s try to pay attention today, and I will get you more colors and you can show me how a parrot talks. I began my lesson, and his eyes drifted into imagination.  I needed to get him more colors.  

 I told The Peruvian I was pregnant.  Now I can never afford to divorce you he muttered, enraged.  Married two months earlier, I realized our honeymoon baby was not welcome.   The protesters were angry, and I felt sick. Him on his laptop, me crying to a social worker.  Do not sedate me, I plead, I need to feel this sin.  Sliding my shoes off in the car, my trunk grinding with mountain rolls of cramps and uncontrollable sobbing coming from a divine place, I declined lunch in West Palm.  I never want to do anything fun.  Changing my pad alone in a car beneath the ceiling of the parking garage in City Place, I then tilted my head and fell asleep again.  My birthday came and went.  You didn’t remember my birthday.  With that evil glint in his eyes, he turned his head and told me that was because he did not love me.

 I purchased a ream of paper and a new box of 42 colors Crayola, legit, sharpener in the box, for Jaylen.  He immediately sat down and drew and drew.  Can we put some words to these if we use the colors you want?  He looked up at me shyly and wrote down five words from the fifth-grade reader.  How did you know that?  Easy, my Grammy teaches me.

 I did not smoke to fit in. I smoked because it felt good out in the parking lot, vying for shade, with the Tech supplying communal cigarettes and a light.  The wave went through me and my lips burned with the dirt and smoky taste.  You look like Strawberry Shortcake trying to smoke a cigarette!  My mother was a sophisticated Virginia Slims smoker, sitting on the brick steps in her tennis skirt, so beautiful, watching my brother play in the backyard waiting for my father to return from work.  I sat next to her in awe, breathing in the sprinkler water and counting its pattern, hum hum-hum-hum, hum hum-hum-hum.  

 I took a cigarette break on my Uber ride home.  I knew I would not smoke much when I got home.   However, I did not consume much except cigarettes and black coffee.  I felt Parisian.  The house got messy, and my thighs grew softer. Investing only in ponds cold cream and drugstore mascara, I laughed deeper and threw myself into work more than ever, with determined concentration, forgetting my posture, hunched over in zeal working sixty hours a week.   Anxiety attacks did not make my head and hands shake while driving. I binged watched Law and Order.  Being unhealthy never felt so healthy.  

 I called the jail to let them know I am available for other inmates if they needed me.  I went the next day to help a young man learn English as a second language. All went well until he stood up screaming asking for a guard then switching to Spanish.  

 Here is your key, you can find your mailbox in the teacher lounge.  Here is the form to join the union, Mr. Pescatelli will most certainly find you about that.  Do you know what a block schedule is?  In the morning you will be teaching Advanced Placement European History to our magnet students.  After lunch, you have sophomore World History in the fourth wing. The afternoon will have different challenges.  If you ever need assistance, security is just down the hall.  Welcome to Ft. Lauderdale High School.  Welcome to my first year of teaching.  

 …

 I met the Sophisticated Scandinavian Man in Boston in the Spring.  A PhD candidate from a social democracy intrigued me.  I was twenty-two and he was twenty-eight.  I felt like a puppy taken in from the cold.  There is a long story for this, maybe later.  The times in which he devoured me, lavished upon me, he loved a short story I wrote, “All this before coffee.”

 Sonya met me in the prison classroom.  In anticipation of a new student, I posted Jaylen’s parrots, travel posters, pictures of presidents listing their failures before they took office.  Hello, she said, reaching her cuffed wrists out to me.  I am Jaylen’s mother.

 All this before coffee.  All this after a DUI.

[teamred]

dreams + promises

summary: soulmate au in which you keep seeing images of a mysterious boy in your dreams. when you touch spider-man’s hand, you realize he’s the boy from your dreams. || inspired by michelle branch’s everywhere pairing: peter parker x reader  warnings: fear of loneliness/insecure!reader, angst, fluff word count: 1.5k words

gif from this post, created by nalianova

You reached out to touch the faceless boy’s brown, soft hair; that was the only prominent detail that ever assembled fully in your dreams. Every night, you dreamt of him and saw only parts of his face and body, but never his entire identity. Sometimes, all you heard was his voice in your dreams echoing in the distance, or his screaming, or even him crying.  

There was tremendous joy within the mysterious boy; you felt every bit of it within yourself, but there was pain and pressure too. You didn’t know who he was, but you tried to soothe him of his troubles—to make him happy, to make him laugh...

To make him feel loved.

On the flip side, you felt alone. Insecure. You feared of being forgotten—athazagoraphobia, you think it’s called.  

Your dream boy assured you every night that it was going to be okay. You were going to be okay, and he promised to protect you no matter what. He promised that one day, he would find you, and that he would make sure that you would never, ever be alone.

And every night, you always reached out to him, raising a hand out for him to grasp, begging for him to answer your one question:  

Who are you?

But your question could never be heard by the boy. A force would always muffle you, mute you to prohibit you from ever asking that question and receiving an answer in return.

Likewise, he would reach for you, and the two of you almost embraced every night, until you always woke up, gasping for air. You sat up from your sweet slumber and reached out beside you in your cold bed for a figure that was never there.

Why do I always dream of you?

“Hey, do you have a pencil I can borrow?”

Everyone was preparing themselves for the math test and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to forget their pencil case, especially on a test day. You glanced over at your beaming classmate and began to analyze his face, wondering why he seemed oddly familiar to you—a strong sense of déjà vu.

Of course he had a familiar face; you saw him every other day in class, but why did something in your soul tell you something else? Why could you hear the thumping of your heart in your ear drums?

Why did something within you tell you to reach out for him?   

Ignoring and suppressing your thoughts, you rummaged through your bag and found your one and only extra pencil. You told him to make sure to give it back to you after the test.

“I promise,” he whispered, nodding slightly with a warm smile still plastered on his face.

The two words echoed in your head as if they were spoken in a never-ending cave. They kept repeating and repeating and repeating, bouncing against the corners of your skull. When the test began, you tried your best to finish. You really did.

However, only ten minutes in and all you did was stare blankly at your unwritten test sheets. You raised your hand, whispered to the teacher that you weren’t feeling well, and ran off to the nurse’s office.

After he finished his test, the brown-haired boy made sure he left your pencil on your desk, as he promised.

At your local park in the middle of the night, you sat on top of the monkey bars, dangling your feet from above the ground. Ever since the day of the math test, you’ve been having a hard time sleeping.

Half of it was a conscious choice of not wanting to sleep because you didn’t want to wake up again, searching for a face you couldn’t even see. The other half was fear of going insane—were you really dreaming about someone who was real, or were they just a figment of your imagination? You dropped your head into your palms, holding back an anguished scream and tears over the unknown.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be out here late at night,” a boy’s voice startled you, almost making you lose your balance on the monkey bars. You readied yourself to run, aware that it was a dangerous hour of the night. You then realized who the stranger was as he stepped under the park light; his iconic red and blue costume could be seen a mile away.  

“Don’t you have better things to do, Spider-man?” you questioned with a huff and wariness, as he was still a stranger. The hero shrugged in reply and jumped up to sit close enough to be heard by you, but not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

He paused for a moment, looking at you while you dangled your legs with your eyes glued to the ground. “You look like you could use the company.”

“What makes you say that?”

The hero shrugged again, turning his attention away from you and mimicked your expression by staring at the ground as well.

“Just a feeling, I guess.”

“Well, I’m okay,” you lied in annoyance. “Now if you excuse me, I’ll be going now, so run off and save someone who needs it.”

Normally, when you jumped down from the monkey bars, you’d usually have a relatively safe landing. Unfortunately, this time was a complete failure, and you landed on your knees, scraping yourself in the process. You felt even more embarrassed knowing Spider-man witnessed the fall.

Spider-man immediately jumped down to help you up. “Oh my, God! Are you all right?!” he asked before lifting you up with his hand on your shoulder and letting you grasp onto his hand to get up properly.

Instantaneously, a jolt ran through your body the moment you two touched, making you believe you were going into shock.

You felt as if your body was being pulled up from the depths of the ocean; an ocean filled with the long suffocation you went through every night, causing you to gasp for air in a sea of troubles and the unknown. 

No more, no more, no more.

The realization enlightened you as you began to see that Spider-man was both the oxygen and the lifesaver to keep your head above the water.

All the memories of your dreams began to materialize in your head crystal clear and everything made perfect sense. Spider-man was the boy of your dreams, and your eternal soulmate.

You looked up at Spider-man with saucer eyes, panting like you had just been awaken from one of your dreams, except this time, someone was there for you to hold.  

“You’re-you’re from my dreams!” Both of you exclaimed at the same time while pointing at each other.    

“I thought I was going crazy, that maybe-that maybe I’m just dreaming of someone who isn’t real,” your eyes began to water as your body shook unsteadily. He was real. Your dreams were real. Your soulmate was your dream boy and he was alive and breathing and not a figment of your imagination.

“I thought the same,” Spider-man panted just as heavily as you were while he rubbed his hand over his head. “Oh my, God.”  

Both of you on the verge of tears embraced each other with the tightest hug of your lives. You truly never felt anymore safer than being in Spider-man’s arms. The tears began to flow after a few minutes, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even care about knowing his identity yet, because all you cared about was finally finding him. Now that he finally found you, the boy wouldn’t dare to let you go. Soon enough, Spider-man decided to lift his mask up part way and you two ended up kissing each other, breathing and taking each other in.

“Screw it,” the masked hero grunted in between kisses before he pulled off his mask entirely, revealing himself to be the same classmate who borrowed your pencil.

“Peter?!” you exclaimed with a surprised laugh, still with tears running down your face. Images of your dreams flooded once more, but now the faceless figure sketched with Peter Parker’s face.

“I-I had a feeling that something was up that day you let me borrow your pencil. Something in me told me to do something about it, but I was so confused and overwhelmed,” Peter tucked some of your loose hair behind your ear, caressing your face in the progress. The moonlight and park lighting shined against his face, which was so beautiful, regardless of the tears running down his face. You smiled, mirroring his own smile, and made note that his smile could truly light up the whole world—at the very least, could light up yours.  

“I’m sorry you felt alone, since then, since the beginning… but I’m here now,” Peter leaned his forehead against yours. He whispered gently, “I told you I’d promise to find you.”

The boy of your dreams lifted his hands up to cup your face, tenderly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I promise to be here for you, just like every night I dreamt about you.”    

In between sobs, you stated, “And I promise to be with you, Peter, through everything and through anything.”

Peter pulled you in for another kiss, a kiss that would be the first of many, and definitely not the last.

[ahgaru]

I’LL REMEMBER // DAY6 Fic

Pairing: Park Jaehyung x Kang Younghyun | Jaehyungparkian Word count: 2,170 Summary:  Jae comes to their old school with Younghyun like what they did eight years ago. He did exactly the same thing they did except for one thing

also posted on twitter

Jae lets out a heavy breath as his eyes scan the area. His gaze drops on the small frame he's holding. He caresses the glass and paint a small smile.

It's been eight years since he last set foot in this place. The last time, he's with the same person he's with right now.

He looks up to take a glimpse of the area again. “Let's go.”

He carefully takes every step as he enters the place. It's where they spent their entire highschool life--their puberty period, where they first had flings, where they first read adult magazines during class, where they first got their hearts broken, where they first fist fought, and where they built the foundation of the unbroken bond they have had.

Jae playfully kicks the pebble in front of him slowly, like how the other did it eight years ago.

“You remember when I first dragged you here?” Younghyun asked as their eyes wandered at the soccer field of their school. “You didn't want to because you want to play badminton or basketball instead. Yet you didn't want to leave when I told you that we should head home.”

Both of them went back to their school two months after graduation day. They want to go to every corner and reminisce everything, keep them in their hearts and treasure them forever.

“My mom scolded me, you know?” Jae chuckled. “My uniform was full of dirt. My face was, too.”

“But then you asked me to play soccer the next day.”

Jae lets his eyes study the area for another minute as he recalls all the fun times they ran around the field, trying to steal the ball from each other, and dropping on the ground when exhausted.

“It was really fun playing with you, Hyun.”

Jae starts walking again, holding Younghyun in his left hand. He halts at the tree near the wash area. He traces the familiar carving on it: JPian

He laughs. “You remember this? Jaehyungparkian. You loved it, didn't you?” He looks at the other with a bright smile. But after a while, it turned into a sad one. “Let's head somewhere else.”

They go all around the campus. Jae voices out every memory he can remember in each place. Like how they both did eight years ago.

Jae doesn't let go of him as they go from one place to another.

They went to their old classroom where Younghyun would always fall asleep during class, write poems in his notebook, or read manga. Jae would always play games under his desk. They would always get scolded every time and were made to stand on the hallway.

They pass by the classroom where Younghyun would always take a peek to see what a senior was doing--a senior he has a crush on. And Jae would always appear behind him and try to surprise him. When the senior would look at their way, Younghyun would hide and Jae would wave a hi with a bright smile.

Jae opens the door of the infirmary. He remembers sitting at the edge on the bed at the corner when he sprained his ankle after jumping when he was playing badminton with a classmate and Younghyun immediately ran to check up on him. The sprain wasn't anything serious but the worried look on the younger's face has triggered something inside Jae. It's as if a candle has been lit up or a switch has been turned on.

“I guess that was the time I realized why my past relationships, or flings, didn't go well.” He caresses Younghyun with his thumb.

He also takes a peek at the science laboratory where they were lab partners and Jae confidently mixed some chemicals that blew up.

Jae smiles as he sees the cafeteria. He recalls how Younghyun would always squeeze himself to get their food. It's always a battlefield there.

Jae does not forget the library, where Younghyun sometimes go to sleep. Or write again. He strolls around the shelves, letting his hand touch the books he pass by, until he reach the last shelf and arrive at the very corner.

He slowly pulls three books at once, the last three on the middle row, revealing a hidden notebook stuck behind the books. It's where Younghyun wrote his poems and songs. His dream was to be a songwriter.

Jae flips some pages slowly and with utmost care. He can still see how bright Younghyun's smile every time he finishes a piece. But no one would seem to give him attention. Although the younger would always keep mum about it, Jae knew about his frustrations. Who doesn't want his talent to be recognized? Or at least be appreciated a bit?

They proceed to the music room afterwards. The first time Jae caught Younghyun there, he was mesmerized. He didn't tell the younger that he knew about his little secret. Jae didn't know why Younghyun didn't want anyone to know that he plays.

The song was soothing yet sad and heartbreaking. Every time Jae couldn't find Younghyun at the library, he would always go here in silent, and he would always see Younghyun sing and play the guitar; or piano sometimes.

“Shall we head to the theater?”

It was the last place they visited eight years ago. And the last place they'll go to today.

Jae's feet are heavy as he takes every step after entering the mini-theater of their school. When his eyes land on the stage, he can feel his heart squeeze.

He takes a seat as his knees are about to give in. He lets Younghyun take the seat on his left. They both face the stage.

“Remember what happened eight years ago?” Jae smiles as he curbs himself from breaking. “I was surprised, too. I really didn't know they will all come.”

He smiles softly as he plays a song from his phone. He places it on the arm rest. He listens to it as he reminisces the unexpected event that happened the last time they went here.

“You're supposed to perform here.”

“Yeah,” Younghyun smiled with a hint of sadness. “But I couldn't come.”

“You were so happy then,” Jae tried so hard not to make his voice crack.

The younger was supposed to sing his own composition during the school festival. But because of unfortunate events, he couldn't make it.

“Of course. I've always wanted for people to hear my piece.”

“Why don't you play it?”

“Now?” Younghun looked around. “But no one's here.”

“I'm here,” Jae locked their gaze until the spotlight suddenly switched on.

They flipped their eyes shut from the blinding light. Their hands in front of their faces to shield it from the light. A figure revealed itself behind it. It's their class president, Sungjin.

They heard footsteps behind them and saw Wonpil carrying a guitar, and Dowoon with a stool. The latter carefully put down the chair and the former handed Younghyun the guitar.

“We're here,” the class president behind the spotlight exclaimed.

As if on cue, people started to fill the theater. Their classmates took their seats and readied themselves to hear Younghyun's song.

There were some familiar faces, too. Their homeroom and math teacher, his favorite, at the side with some other teachers. Their P.E. teacher, who would always scold him, was there, too. Ayeon, the senior he has a crush on. Jieun, his first ex.

Jae nodded at him and motioned him to take a seat and start playing.

“I'm nervous,” Younghyun whispered.

Jae tapped his shoulder. “Don't be. You always tell me to do things with so much enjoyment.”

“As if it's your last,” Younghyun continued and Jae choked a sob.

He shook his head not wanting to think about it. “Not that, let's stop at the ‘enjoyment’ part, okay?”

But that's what Younghyun would always say. “As if it's your last.”

When he dragged Jae to the soccer field. When they first cut classes. When they jumped in the river, still wearing their uniform clothes. Everything Younghyun has been wanting to do that Jae seemed a bit hesitant, he would always say it. “Let's enjoy this, savor the moment as if it's our last.”

Younghyun showed a tight-lipped smile and sat down. Jae went down and took a seat in the front row.

Younghyun took another glance at Jae before closing his eyes and started playing.

In the passing time You’re fading away now I’m afraid that I’ll lose you Even in my memories

Jae bit his lips to prevent them from shaking. He kept on looking away to restrain the teasing tears to fall. No, he's not gonna lose him. And no, he's not gonna lose every memory of him.

The moments you gave to me They were so precious I’ll remember

Of course. He will never forget.

Jae could hear some of their classmates crying. Their P.E. teacher kept on wiping his tears, too.

Younghyun was a naughty student. But he sure brought unforgettable memories and made their highschool lives worth remembering.

Just the fact That we were together I’ll leave it in a deep part Of a corner of my heart (I’ll remember)

Younghyun was alreading shedding tears. At the last line, his voice almost cracked from trying not to cry. Jae stood up and went up the stage.

Younghyun couldn't almost continue the song but was surprised when someone sang the next verse. How did Jae know it?

In this slowly fading picture You’re fading away as well It’s sad because Time can’t be stopped

Younghyun's right hand that was strumming the guitar dropped. He stopped playing and Jae stopped singing. The latter just stood there and let tears leave wet trails on his face.

Younghyun couldn't look up. His shoulders were moving up and down from heavy breathing because of his wailing. The room was suffused with grief and tears.

Jae stops the song. It was a memorable yet painful day. He couldn't stop the time.

“As if it's your last.”

They all knew the possibilities. They all knew that it's gonna be the first and last time they'd hear Younghyun sing and play the guitar.

He was sick. He couldn't come during the school festival because he was in the hospital.

He looks at the man beside him. He holds him again. “I lost many opportunities. And even eight years ago, I never had the guts to tell you what I really feel.”

His hands softly brush the countenance of the other. “I love you,” he sobs.

Jae is now a successful singer. He became one to fulfill Younghyun's dream. “I want my pieces to be heard. Sing them for me.”

Jae's songs were all written by Younghyun. The latter gave him a couple of notebooks with his works when they went back to the hospital after visiting their school eight years ago.

Yesterday, I'll Remember, the song they sang here, was released. He went back here with him to reminisce once again, celebrate their victory, and get Younghyun's secret notebook at the library, which Jae only remembered yesterday, too.

He did every single thing they did eight years ago. He's still with him. The only difference is, he's now with his picture and not the person himself.

Jae embraces the frame before he takes a deep breath and stands up. The notebook resting on his lap falls. He takes it and is about to walk away when he notices a page with a folded part at the top edge.

He opens it and sees his name being scribbled multiple times. Some lines that are probably potential lyrics, too. Like, “You’re too much. Why do you drive me so crazy?” and “What can I do? I’ve already fallen for you.”

Jae keeps on flipping the last pages. There are a lot of lines that seem to be written in hurry. Like an idea just came and you didn't want to lose it. Maybe it was like that.

Jae drops on his seat again and holds the notebook and frame close to his chest when he sees what's written in the last page.

Everything I write is about you, Jae. I have no courage to tell you but I love you. I hope these songs and poems are enough to tell you what I feel.

I'm sorry for falling in love with my best friend. Also, I'm not sorry because that's the best thing that has ever happened to me.

They didn't hear each other say it. Younghyun didn't have the chance to know that Jae feels the same. Jae sobs some more, clutching his chest.

Yes, he won't lose him. He won't lose even a single memory of him. An even now that he's gone, he's still in his heart. And another thing to remember was added: Younghyun loves him, too.

Just the fact That we were in love No matter how much time passes I’ll remember Because I loved you without regrets I’ll leave you inside of me

Fics masterlist

[moonfireflight]

Mysme Angst Week Day 1 - Yoosung + Memories

(SFW, swearing, angst, very short)

@mysmeangstweek

“What do you mean, I can’t hold aggro? No one can hold aggro when they’re dead! Maybe try healing me next time, Kalcryx? Fuck this, I’m logging off.” Yoosung tore his headset off and threw it hard enough that it reached the end of its cord before snapping back and crashing to the floor.

“I just want to be number one at something in my life. It doesn’t matter how good I am at LOLOL if my teammates SUCK!” As he realized he hadn’t logged out of voice chat yet, he aimed the last comment at his now cracked headset, hoping the rest of the group could hear him. He stared for another moment at the screen before exiting the game, but somehow just logging out didn’t feel right.

Anger coursed through his body, causing his muscles to tense and begging him to vent it destructively. Standing up, he kicked his chair back behind him, then fell to his knees in front of his desk, pawing around under it until his hand connected with the main power cable, which he yanked out of the wall. He had put far too much force into the motion, and his knuckles cracked against a part of his desk, making him yelp. He cradled the injured hand to his chest, rocking back and forth, willing himself with all of his might not to cry. He felt so weak against the hot throbbing behind his eyes, unshed tears burning within him. No, he was done being a crybaby!

The pain began to recede, but his body felt heavy and drained. He immediately felt stupid for his outburst. If he had ruined his computer by unplugging it in a fit of childish rage, he would never hear the end of it from Seven. He didn’t have the money to replace it, so he would have to rely on hand-me-down parts again.

He curled up in a ball under his desk, feeling like he was alone in the world and as helpless as a child. He always had to rely on someone else. Nothing was really his, except for what he earned in LOLOL. Even that relied on the internet his parents paid for and the computer that Seven had built. Without those, even his virtual achievements were untouchable, locked away from him.

Would he ever have any fucking control over his life? Before he realized it, he’d punched the back panel of his desk again and reeled from the pain. How could he have any control over his life if he couldn't’t even control himself! “Control yourself,” was all he heard in the RFA chat room too. How dare he miss Rika. How dare he want to know more about what happened to her? They never even tried to understand him.

Yoosung glanced up for a moment and noticed something shiny caught between the desk and his bed, obscured behind a cloud of cobweb dotted with crumbs. Normally he couldn’t be bothered, but he had nothing to lose, bunched up under his desk like trash already.

Scraping his knuckles on the edge of the desk didn’t even register as new pain at that moment, nor did the tickling of the dusty webbing. The muscles from his shoulder to his fingertips stretched taut as he tried hard to reach the object. Once he had it pinched between two fingers, he quickly pulled his hand out of the dark corner before the spider he imagined there got mad at him for destroying its home.

The object dropped to the floor in front of him, and he recognized it as the back of a photo frame. He flipped it over, and recoiled internally. The glass was webbed through with cracks, covering up most of the image, but he remembered the captured moment so clearly.

***

“Yoosung! Come quickly! I want to get a picture of everyone together. Since you are the tallest one here, stand in the back row, okay?” He certainly wasn’t used to being the tallest one anywhere, even if his competition today was an elementary class, but he’d take any victory he could.

Summer was supposed to be for relaxing and playing games, but his parents had suggested he spend some time helping his cousin instead. He had to admit that he had enjoyed volunteering with her before, even if he didn’t like it at first. He felt a sense of accomplishment that even his grades didn’t give him. He felt important and needed. These weren’t things he thought he needed in his life, but once he experienced them, he found it almost addicting.

So here he was at a summer school at the local church, tutoring elementary school kids in math or whatever they most needed to learn. Rika had left him in charge of his group’s curriculum and how to teach them, and he felt like it had gone well. He had never thought of himself as a teacher or a leader and proving himself to be more than he’d thought gave him so much hope for his future.

He was kind of sad that it was graduation day, but he would still have two weeks before his vacation ended and spending a few days to himself sounded good. The kids all huddled together around him, with one of the smallest clutching at the leg of his pants. He even remembered how it felt to smile for the picture, easy and heartfelt, surrounded by the kids that he had helped.

Afterwards, Rika had hugged him and told him how proud she was of him. She talked with him about all of the things she saw for him in his future.  

***

“What future?” he yelled, voice hoarse from crying as he clutched the photo frame in his hands. “Why can’t you be here to tell me? Why did the world have to take you from me?!” His whole body felt like it was burning as he sat on the floor and sobbed. Everything hurt, especially his stomach. He was hungry, having put off lunch to finish the raid he had logged out during earlier. He was too tired to cook, too broke to go out and buy food, having used the last of this month’s funds already for groceries and a new skin in LOLOL.

What future was there for him, lost, alone, and unable to even feed himself like a grown man?

Before he crawled onto his bed, he retrieved one of his photo albums from beneath it. Retreating to his happy memories, he eventually fell asleep hungry and exhausted, and dreamt of better days.

[fictionbanshee]

Taking me

Request: Imagine request- you are scotts younger sister by two years. And your dating Liam. Ever since Theo came you've been having nightmares were you're wake up in the middle of the night screaming and Scott came into your room. And basicallly you get turned into a chimera. You guys were in the school and the whole pack saw you get stabbed with the needle. And the dread doctors were fighting with everyone. 

Warnings: idk, violence, character death, massive angst

A/N: This is my first requested imagine so I can´t promise anything but I hope you enjoy it anon <3

As I entered the school building I tried to keep my head as low as possible. The weird feeling of everyone staring at me crept its way through my thoughts and I couldn´t help myself with it. Shivering, palms sweaty and my eyes darted to the floor, I tried to open my locker to get the math books for my thrid period. "(Y/N)!" A pair of big warm hands grabbed me from behind and spun me around. I let out a little scream, my books all dropping to the floor. "Jesus!", I gasped, "Liam. Not necessary to scare me that much." A touch of guilt flashed throuh my boyfriends blue puppy eyes before he started grinning again. "Sorry baby. I´m just in a good mood today." I sighed. Was it just me or did everything sound just obnoxiously loud and screechy today? "Well, good for you then." I started walking. "Hey, babe, are you okay?" "Why wouldn´t I be?"

*Bzzzzz. Their heads above mine. Needles. Bzzzzz.They were talking. What do they say? What do they say? Bzzz. "More". Bzzz. Pain. Pain! Throbbing, stabbing, burnig pain. I burn, I freeze. Blood, blood, so much blood. Bzzz. A thousand cuts on my skin and explosion in my skull,it´s like they were flaying me. Oh my god! I scream: "NO! HELP ME, PLEASE! PLEASE!" It doesn´t stop. It gets worse."PLEASE DON`T! WHAT DID I DO?" Bzzz. Needles. Scalpels. Acid through my veins...*     "NOOO!" I jolt up. Kicking, crying, panting. Where are they? "WHERE ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS? I WILL KILL YOU!" Suddenly, there is light. My door bursts open and a tall dark figure comes storming into my room. "(Y/N)? (Y/N) are you okay?" Scott. It´s just Scott. With just a few steps he sprints through the room towards me. To my own surprise I instinctively shrink back. "What´s going on here?" I don´t answer him; instead I pull my knees to my chest and start sobbing. What the hell is going on here? Am I losing my mind? I can feel the matress shift under the weight of someone sitting next to me. Carefully, my big brother places a hand on my back. "The dreams again?" I nod. "And you really can´t remember what they´re about?" His voice is soft and steady, so I try to focus on it while catching my breath again. "I really don´t know. While I´m dreaming it is so vivid and the fear is real, but when I wake up ... when I wake up it´s gone- Just like a shadow, I ...", I trail off as another sob violently shakes my body. "Hey, (Y/N/N), don´t cry. It will be okay. I´ll take care of you like I always do", says Scott as he embraces me in a warm hug. I cuddle into him and close my eyes – trying to maybe get at least one or two more hours of sleep. But eventually the stinging feeling of being watched just ... stays.

"Yeah, I´m  totally fine. I have to get to my class now. Bye." Giving Liam a peck on the cheek I speed up and left. Of course I could imagine his bleak expression right now, downcast eyes and probably wondering what he did wrong. My god, I hated to hurt him in any, even the slightest way but for now I had to find out what was so wrong with me. And please don´t let my suspicions be true.

• • •

The unsettling feeling of being watched never went away during the day. I was sure that someone was following me and that it wasn´t just Liam, who I´ve had successfully avoided until now. But how the hell was I supposed to hide from a shadow? At lunch break the pressure eventually became too much or at least that was it what my body was trying to tell me. I shivered, my palms were sweaty and cold and everything was beginning to feel too hot and to cold at the same moment. I started running. I had to get somewhere ... else. Somewhere where I could be alone. Recover a little. I turned left into a class room of which I knew that he would be empty at this time of the day. With the last strength I could afford I shut the door closed and locked it, sinking to the floor afterwards. I knew that it was probably not the best idea to lock myself in an empty room right now, but a feeling in my gut – which I had acquired and trained over years of contact with Scotts supernatural troubles – told me that this wasn´t something the school nurse could help me with. The shivering had gotten worse and suddenly I felt like I couldn´t breath. It was almost like a panic attack, I ... "Hey (Y/N). Are you okay" I shrieked and tilted my head. Theo was staning at the other side of  the class room. Theo Raeken. And for some reason I couldn´t really point out that bothered me more than it should´ve. "Hey, do you hear me? You don´t look so good, you know ... ", Theo had started walking towards me now. His wandering hands were pounding what was supposed to be little melodies on the blank desks. "I mean", he chuckled, "you always look good but right now you don´t look so good!" "I´m fine." Leave me alone, I thought. I´d never liked Theo. He had something on him that made you feel a touch of danger; a touch of fear. And always that devious smirk. Ever since Theo had returned to Beacon Hills I had wondered what his real intentions were because my brothers pack and pure altruism couldn´t be his only motives. "I really think I should take you to the nurse. You´re shivering, you know?" I gritted my teeth as a sharp pain shot through my head like a bullet. "I said I´m fine Theo. I´m just resting for a moment." He ignored me while coming closer a closer. "Are you cold, (Y/N/N)? Or hot? Maybe you´re both at the same time. I bet you haven´t eaten properly for a few days now. Or slept." How the hell does he know that? "Felt nauseous? Dizzy?" I couldn´t move. A metallic whirr cut through the air like a knife through butter. What the hell was happening? Adrenalin rushed through my veins and before Theo managed to put his hand on my mouth, I started screaming at the top of my lungs. "HELP! SCOTT! LIAM! HELP ME!" I tried to stand up and run but Theo grabbed me by my arm and pulled me back. "Just keep calm and cooperate, then they won´t hurt you ... much." Memories began flashing before my eyes.

Dark figures and revolving drills ... a lonely, moist cell and dark liquid running over my fingers. A mirror. I stand in front of a mirror. I think I´m sick, my eyes are fluttering and I feel so weird. Wrong. I feel wrong. My nails are...too long. Teeth not fitting into my mouth anymore. I can taste blood and copper on my togue. What am I? What am I? My fist hits the mirrored surface. A thousand splinters shattered to the groundand so did I. No more strenght in my legs. I tilt my head and see black blood on the floor; so damn much of it. Just not on my knuckles. Already healed.

Dread Doctors. They were here. I had no idea where they´d been hiding all the time but now they were standing there, right in front of me. While Theo was holding me back the first tears of desperation started streaming down my face. Not back to this place. Please not back to this place. I can´t ... The door burst open, pieces of glass and wood shattering everywhere. Theo let go of me as we both fell to the ground. "Let her go, Theo! Otherwise I´ll rip out your guts!" Scott was standing in the doorway, Liam and Malia following close behind. Growling, claws and sharp teeth everywhere as they lunged themselves at Theo and the Dread Doctors. Malia jumped forward and tried to claw Theo´s eyes out while Liam threw a punch at the first Doctor. Scott rushed to my side and put an arm around my waist. "I´ve got you. You will be okay, (Y/N/N), come on." Shakily I managed to stand up and my eyes darted through the room, trying to understand what was happening. We were clearly outnumbered. The aches in my head were getting worse but there were more important things now. Or so I thought. "Go help them, Scott!", I whimpered. "But I can´t leave you here" "I´m fine. Go!" I tried to hide under one of the desks as my brother raced to his packs aid. Unsuccessful. Ice cold metallic hands grabbed me by my neck and started to choke me while pulling me up. It felt as if my head would explode any second and I wanted to scream but no sound escaped my lips, instead I coughed and tried to get out of the Dread Doctors firm grip. I didn´t stand a chance. Names were shouted in the distance; my name. And then the most terrible pain I´d ever experienced in my whole life pierced through my neck and seemed to burn its way through my whole body. Something cold and caustic spread in my body. The agonizing pains became dull and my vision blurry. This can´t be the end. Tears, more tears than I could´ve ever shed streamed down my face and dropped to the floor. They were silver. "Li....Liam" I croaked as I fell to the ground. Before my head could even hit the ground, he was by my side. Held me in his arms. "Baby, no." He was crying. A little bit of blood was smeared across his face, his breathing was heavy and unsteady; his eyes flickered as the gold of his werewolf orbs changed back to its usual beautiful blue. "You will be okay, I promise. I´m sure...I´m sure Dr. Deaton can fix this." "He...can´t..." He can´t and you know it. I don´t want to die. Liam, I love you. I love Scott. I need you guys. I´m sorry. There were so many very important things that I still had to tell him in this moment, but nothing came out. I could just stare at Liam and wonder how everything went down so incredibly fast. The last thing I saw before everything went black were Liams wonderful blue eyes. The last thing I heard were the love affirmations and curses he mumbled under his breath as he tried to choke back his tears. The last thing I felt were his warm hands stroking my cheeks. And then the universe took back what had always belonged to it anyways.

I think I´ll do a Part 2 on this. Opinions?