#tall ruth is just ever so slightly cursed

[letsplaypixeldolls]

Ruth Phelps

Self-Assured | Outgoing | Genius

[whaleofatjme1920]

Right Back Where You Started

Right Back Where You Started

[Masky/Timothy Wright X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight blood, slight violence, language]

[AN: Four of my OC's are in here! This was also requested from a friend a while ago.]

The beauty about being able to live a life outside of murdering people and being at the whim of a monster that fancies itself as a god is a variety of your own accord.

For instance, you can wake up whenever you feel like, take a job wherever there’s openings, meet new people and not have to bash their brains in just for asking about your life and only need to pick up a blade to cut food or occasionally packages you impulsively bought on the nights that feel like too much and not enough all in one. You can breathe and not worry about inky black tendrils crushing your throat for doing so without his permission. You’re able to sleep at night knowing that no higher up in your group will attempt to kill you in an act of proxy related hazing. You can clear your mind temporarily of the thoughts of what may come next in trade for semi-normalcy even though you know those thoughts won’t go away anytime soon. The weight of what you’d done was too much to bear, and Atlas can only disappear for so long.

When you first decided to betray your boss, the tall man in the woods, the faerie that steals children away, you acted on impulse. It was an impulse that was born from being all too exhausted with risking your life, committing sin upon sin and other terrible, no good things that should ever be uttered. The decision you made on impulse had no foresight or planning, and when you decided to run, you ran as far and as hard as you could away from him. Away from them. Away from it all. Of course, you know there were going to be repercussions for running like so few others did.

The ire of the Slender Man being the worst.

Most days, you try not to think of him. There’s no point - well, maybe there is a healthy fear you still have - but to worry yourself into a stupor would be silly now. You’ve been free of him for a year. He hasn’t sent you any signs, nor has he sent anyone… Maybe you weren’t important enough to set him off like some of the others had.

These are the things you like to think about as you sit on your couch watching the late night news that’s barely audible as you scroll through your phone. You never really did like the total silence an empty house provides. There’s a simmer cup of tea on the coffee cup and a few snacks laid out that you have little plans of eating while you relax and enjoy the midsummer night. Outside, you can hear crickets sing and cicadas accompany them. It’s peaceful, and while your mind would like to think of it as such, you can’t ignore the ringing in the back of your head. Things have been pleasant, too pleasant. There’s bound to be a storm due to roll in.

Still, you try not to think of these things, and instead focus on the content that scrolls in and out of your vision. It’s nothing particularly interesting, but helps get your mind off the things that often keep you up. And you continue to sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a light blanket to combat your AC as the hours of the night tick by. Your mind is completely off of really, any higher cognitive thought, when you hear something. It’s soft, low, sounds like two, maybe three people and they’re out in the distance. Must just be stumbling onto the borders of your ‘farm’.

See, the funny thing about trying to integrate into normal human life is that you physically can’t. You can follow all their customs, get into their society, look like them, but you’ll never be fully human. You want to know why? Proxies can never go back to what they used to be. They’re forever changed, and no force on heaven of earth can ever get rid of that. He can take your memory and dump you on the side of the road, but your biology has forever been changed. In most cases, it’s a nice thing to have: faster healing, better pain tolerance, heightened senses, and a better sense of problem solving than most people. Other days, it’s a hindrance for reasons you can’t quite explain. Some call it Slender Sickness, and the only way to remedy it is to be under the tall man’s care.

Because you’re not, you’ve found other ways to remedy the sickness he inflicts on practically everything he touches. Pills. You find them in odd, strange places, but they get the job done. So long as you have them, you can be free of his grasp and his connection.

But goddamn, the hearing is mostly a hindrance. On the account of you living on the edge of a college town, you’ve got land and are surrounded by farmer’s fields. You heat it all- critters in the night, teens messing with the patches, arguments, sometimes crimes, and it keeps you up at night. That’s a downside to not having him in your life- he’s not there to dampen its effects when it becomes too much. However, in this specific instance, your heightened hearing is a blessing.

The feeling in your gut only furls together tighter as you hear the three strolling down your dirt road. They’re close, much too close. You know that they’re here for you.

Frantically, you jump off the couch and start to damage control by making the place look like no one inhabits it. The TV and lights are turned off, the mug emptied of its contents, snacks put away and other leads buried. Your heart pounds a mile a minute - you know that if he finds you, it’s all over.

He’ll kill you - the Slender Man is not known for his mercy.

You feel like a chicken with its head cut off as you look around the house for weapons before settling on the kitchen knife. It’s cliché and reminds you of someone you once heard whispers about, but it’s all you can think of in this moment. When you left this life, you left the physical parts of it as well. All your gear, weapons, they’re hidden in a place that’s too risky for you to even attempt getting. Armed with the kitchen knife, you debate running out the back or hiding, then running. You always were good at staying out of sight, hiding it is.

Your eyes dart to the basement door and you slip through right as you hear the three outside your front door. There’s a window that opens in the direction of the town. If you slip out of it, you’ll be able to get a good headtstart through the field. The moment you start booking it down the stairs, you hear your front door get blown open.

“Wallace, what do you think?” You hear a male’s voice ask.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” a deeper male voice responds - must be Wallace, eyeing over your living room.

In the darkness, you quietly maneuver the crowded, cluttered basement, mentally cursing you left your phone upstairs in your haste.

“It feels like someone’s been in here,” Wallace’s voice continues. You can practically hear him smelling the air. “Ruth, tell Nyein to sniff this one out.”

You hear boots scuff against your wooden floor and stop somewhere in the doorway. “You could always just ask them yourself,” the female voice identified as Ruth verbally shrugs. She clicks her tongue, and you hear even more steps. How many of these people are there? You hope it’s just four. That’s a well sized group, come to think of it. “Ny, can you please sniff this one out? Seems like they’ve done a good job at scent covering.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Don’t give us any attitude,” the first male voice hisses slightly. “Do what you’re told-”

“Theo,” Wallace sharply reprimands.

You hear Theo sigh right as you reach the window. You pray to whatever deity will have you that it won’t squeak or make any loud noises, but the thing hasn’t been opened in gods know how long. You use the blade to lightly cut through the layers of off-white paint before the window is free. You mentally smile before attempting to lift it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Nyein got your scent. Their pupils dilate upon realizing you’re the one the Slender Man has requested alive. You hear someone rapidly padding to the basement.

Panic fills your veins as you struggle to get the window open, not even caring that it’s making all the noise in the world. You need to get out!

“She padlock this thing?” You hear Ruth ask before she grunts. The door can’t hold them back forever.

You frantically push up on the window - it's a quarter open, not near enough for you to slip through. Shit, shit, shit! You need to go NOW.

“Jesus- just break it already,” Wallace sighs.

A few more grunts and you hear the wood splinter. You hear them descending the steps quickly.

“There!” Theo points.

You hold your breath and push the window up with all your strength before hosting yourself up.

“Shit! Out the front! Ny, keep on her,” Wallace commands as he smacks Ruth and Theo’s shoulder, the two quickly following him up the stairs.

You begin to shimmy out the narrow window as the being called ‘Nyein’ eyes you down. You don’t think you’ve ever seen an independent like that before. They look absolutely feral, and the scent of you has them locked on your crawling form.

Their eyes narrow, teeth bared, and they quickly lunge across the space for you, right as your legs reach the windowsill.

You cry out in surprise as their clawed hand digs into your ankle, drawing blood you know you can’t afford to worry about.

“Get off!” You shout in retaliation, kicking at their face. Freed, you begin to sprint into the field.

Nyein snarls and crawls out the window as well, running after you with a speed that has you on edge. You continue to run. Behind you, you can hear the other three quickly gaining on you as well. How badly does the Slender Man want you? Your lungs light on fire as they chase you through the field. Soon, you’ll be hitting the small stretch of trees before you reach the town. With other people, you’ll have a better chance at being safe. But the stretch of woods is an awful mess of brush and loose soil. You can’t afford to misstep now.

You take in a deep breath as you hurl into the small stretch of trees, all too aware of the proxies and independent that are hot on your trail. In the back of your head, you can tell they’re tired of you. Good. They should be. You narrowly avoid twisted roots and piles of mud and grow closer and closer to other people.

It’s so close that you can almost touch it.

Lost in your thoughts and too tunnel visioned in on reaching the town, you fail to recognize the steel jaw trap in the darkness and send your shoe right on it. It clamps down, bites, and holds you. You screech and fall forward, careening into the forest floor. The pain in your leg is absolutely agonizing, and you claw at it in vain to free yourself as your pursuers close in on you.

“Gave us quite the chase, Reader,” Wallace says with a slight scowl as he crouches a healthy distance from you. “Should let you rot here,” he muses. You can’t see his face both from the darkness of the night and the fact he’s wearing a mask, but you can tell he’s upset.

“Or let Ny eat her. Been a while since they’ve last had anything,” Theo adds on, glaring at you through the eyeholes of his mask that’s the head of a pig.

“He said he wanted her alive,” Ruth chimes in, a sigh in her tone. “She’s already fucked herself up enough, let’s not rub salt in the wounds.”

“Put her to sleep then,” Wallace shrugs.

You look up at these people like a caged animal, your eyes narrowing and slightly watering at the pain of the steel jaw trap. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to the earth subconsciously as Nyein eyes you like a prize.

\ They reach their hand out to touch you before you smack them away. Their snarl, their eyes traveling down to your ankle where the blood smells the strongest.

“Do it before they eat her,” The deep voiced man says again. “Though, last I checked, Ny doesn’t eat proxies.”

“She’s a traitor, not a proxy,” Ruth lightly corrects, her gaze alone shushing you from making any noise.

Not wanting to work yourself up, you settle for cursing them under your breath.

Without any other words, Ruth comes up to you, resting her boot on your chest to keep you down. You attempt to grab at her leg, throw her off balance, but she’s stronger than you on account of still being an active proxy. Her dark eyes scan you up and down before she reaches into her back pocket. “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmurs before smacking the rag to your mouth and nose.

You flail about, screaming and cursing before reluctantly taking that breath.

“... Thank you, you’ve done well. Head out to - yes, that’s right, Theo - head there and I will give you further instruction.”

You blearily come to on the carpet of an office you hoped you’d never be back in. The smell of jasmine and incense hangs in the air. You hear a door shut and catch the boots of the people who brought you back to him leave the room. He must be sending them out to their next assignment; it’s probably some poor other bastard that won’t escape like you did. You take in a few timid breaths and allow the light to filter in.

There he is, your boss. He stands in front of you like a god. He has no face, but you can tell he’s more than upset.

“Miss Reader, what a pleasure,” he says in a deep, authoritarian tone.

On instinct, you feel yourself shrinking.

“Really?” He muses, inky black tendrils sprouting from his back. “You have the nerve to run from me, suppress me, and now you do this? You dare show your submission?” He hisses. The tendrils move like bolts of electricity as they wrap around your exhausted, terrified form.

You cringe as the tendrils take over every part of you, squeezing as if they’re threatening to break your bones if you so much as breathe out of turn. Tears well in your eyes as you remember the fear you used to feel rushing back and overloading your senses.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” he spits as the tendril wrapped around your neck begins to constrict. You notice his body language bristle as he looks at you longer. “I could pop your eyeballs out of your sockets. I could tear you limb for limb,” the Slender Man continues like it’s nothing.

You feel nothing but malice radiate off his form. It’s heat that singes your very soul. “S-Sir,” you gasp out. “Why would you b-bring me here just to k-kill me?” You attempt to reason, eyes watering and vision going fuzzy. You weakly attempt to use your fingers as a barrier between the constrictor and you. You can’t take this low oxygen any longer - not with him physically inhibiting you.

A cold chuckle reverbates in your head while the vision of wolf’s teeth smile at you, as if they’re ready to snap. “You always were smart,” he notes, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “I could rip your head from your shoulders and it would make none of the difference.”

“Answer my observation,” you weakly cough out before he holds you tighter. You struggle to move your limbs. Your blood feels hot.

“Masky,” he suddenly calls out, hand gesturing to his office doors.

You’re barely able to move your head and settle on shifting your eyes instead to those large, oak doors as they open just a crack.In slips a man in a tan coat. He’s got dark hair, bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted - more exhausted than you feel. He doesn’t look at you but instead focuses on the Slender Man.

“Sir,” he greets, bowing his head slightly in reverence.

The Slender Man hums, clearly pleased. You see the wolf’s jaws smile in your mind’s eye.

“Reader, you will be under his care now,” the Slender Man says. “If you successfully spend half a year at his side, I will reconsider tearing you apart.” He says it so nonchalantly that you feel chills run up and down your spine.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you oppose me?” The Slender Man asks. “I am being more than generous, aren’t I?”

“Don’t take this offer for granted,” you hear Masky quietly add. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you can hear Masky telling you not to push him too far.

Hesitantly, you nod, voice too weak to say anything physically.

The Slender Man’s tendrils suddenly retract from you, sending you roughly to the carpeted floor.

You yelp as you come into contact with the carpet and slowly gather yourself as you try to push down the aches and pains that bloom on your joints and shins that hit the ground particularly hard. You cough a bit as air returns to your lungs and struggle to stand.

“Do what you must,” the Slender Man waves off, turning his back to both you and Masky.

Masky finally breaks from his stance and moves quickly to your side to help you up.

At first, you try to smack his hand away, but upon realizing you’re too weak to even see straight, accept his hand and his arm when you’re standing upright. He smells of cigarettes and some out of date cologne. It’s not bad.

The two of you hobble out of the Slender Man’s office with Masky’s eyes never leaving your form. After all, you are his responsibility now. He continues to lead you through a mansion you’ve grown to despise and out into the warm summer morning. The Slender Man could never imitate the beauty of earth to its entirety, that much was apparent.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a rough voice, attempting in vain to clear it by coughing.

“Stop that,” Masky sighs as the two of you cross the lawn. “To the parking lot, getting in the car, then driving across the border to Mississippi. We’ve got a temp there,” he murmurs. “You good?” He’s mentally wondering why your healing hasn’t damage controlled this yet. Probably the boss still being mad at you is the best reason he can come up with.

“Do I look like I’m good?” You dryly respond, eyes squinting slightly as the fog begins to kick up. You know you’re reaching the end of his reach. Once the fog clears up almost as quickly as it appeared, you realize the Slender Man’s practically kicked you both out of his realm. The walk was always longer when you truly were his. He must be severely pissed off at you. In a way, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you from the get go.

It’s best not to dwell on that thought though.

The rest of the walk is quiet and you’re in the car before you can count to 100 (your numbers are very jumbled though). You slide into the passenger seat and feel a little better at being able to rest.

Masky slides into the driver’s seat and sighs as he grips the wheel. “You have any questions, you ask them now in the car. I’m not putting up with your bullshit when we get to the temp.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window. “Who are you?”

“Masky, you heard him,” he’s pulling out of the parking lot and mentally thanking the gods he wasn’t killed alongside you. When the boss is in such a questionable mood, there’s no telling what’ll happen.

“You know damn well what I meant,” you cough slightly.

Masky scoffs before reaching into the backseat for a moment. His fingertips brush a water bottle, and upon realizing that’s what it is, grasps it and then tosses it to you.

You nod and take a sip, mentally frowning that the water’s been heated in the morning summer sun.

“I’m a group leader. Probably haven’t heard of us though, we’re not terribly monumental,” he begins as he flicks the turn signal on. “You’ve got three other people to watch out for. Hoodie, he’s the right hand, Toby, he’s essentially our middle child, and Kate. You’re replacing her and the hazing process will start up,” he finishes, now matching pace with the other cars that sparsely decorate the expressway.

You pout slightly and press your lips into a thin line as you gaze out the window at the rolling scenery. You’ve been here before. You’ve brought people back here this exact way before. They’re all unwanted memories. In response, your body language becomes unreadable.

This does not go unnoticed by Masky. “Yeah the attitude isn't gonna work,” he says as he glances over at you. “C’mon, you’ve been through this process before. We all have - what gives?”

With a sigh, you flick your eyes over to him to gauge his mood. He seems genuinely curious. “You do know that I ran away for a reason, right?”

Masky nods. “Sure, it was stupid though.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to open his window. “What did you think would happen?” Sounds like he’s trying to pick at your brain.

“Anything but this,” you gesture angrily to your current situation. “I hoped to never see him again,” you groan, clearly frustrated. You chug some more water.

Masky breathes out slightly, as if he’s judging your answers. “Whatever. Forget about pulling something like that again because I’ll personally come after you if it comes to that,” he claims in a tone that’s far too serious.

You roll your eyes slightly, “sure, like you’ll-”

His eyes shift on the expressway, and after ensuring there’s no one that’ll cause a pile up on behalf of him, he hits the brakes, sending you lurching forward into the dashboard.

“What the hell?” You cry out in an exasperated tone, struggling to peel yourself up from the dashboard. You cry out in shock again as you feel his hand at the back of your head, successfully grinding your skull into the heated polyvinyl chloride.

“Get that thought of your fucking head,” he hisses, raising your head slightly before smacking it back down.

You growl back and relent. Once the pressure from his arm is gone, you shove him off of you. The car picks up pace again and you notice him wave to a person who passes by - they have a mildly concerned expression - and he smiles like he didn’t just slam your skull into PVC.

Welcome back to the proxy life.

You make it to Mississippi by mid afternoon. Masky brings the car down some dirt path where a house lays right on the Mississippi river, and you can smell traces of blood. They must’ve cleared the previous residents out.

There, on the porch in a muscle tee holding a can of coke is a man with his left cheek missing. He twitches slightly as he waves at you and Masky.

“T-This her?”

Masky nods.

“Can’t b-believe she g-g-gave Wallace’s g-g-group the s-slip,” he says in a slightly amused, slightly annoyed tone.

“Word travels that fast?” Masky replies with a slight chuckle.

The proxy before you nods with a small smile, “c’mon. I wanna g-g-get out of this h-heat. It’s a-a-awful out here,” he says with a playful grimace as he slowly rises from the front step where he had been sitting.

“Is Kate happy?” Masky asks as he watches Toby head in, then nods for you to go.

With a small frown, you do so. At least it’s air conditioned.

“Over the moon,” a feminine voice cuts in from the kitchen. She’s stirring a thing of lemonade.

Masky smiles slightly and takes a seat at the table. “We weren’t that bad,” Masky notes as Kate slides a glass of lemonade to the group leader.

She raises a brow at Toby who glances down to his open pop can. “So, this is the one he wanted alive for this term?” She questions as she glances at you, silently asking if you’d like some.

You mouth a ‘please’ before getting comfortable at the table.

“Weirdly, yeah,” Masky replies before taking a languid sip. “Thought he was gonna go for someone with more street cred, but, whatever. She’s our problem now,” he shrugs.

You look down into the pastel yellow liquid and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. All of this, it was wrong. You hadn’t had to play by proxy rules in a year, and here you were, bottom of the rung, the runt. You hadn’t been a runt in gods know how long.

Conversation begins to flow between the three people around you as glasses of lemonade are poured. You sit in silence, listening because you know it’s not your place to speak. As far as proxy culture goes, you don’t really have any rights. Well, you’re in a better place than independents, but according to other proxies, you’re a glorified errand boy. They say to jump and you’re supposed to ask ‘how high?’ Your group’s word becomes gospel.

Apparently, Kate was this group’s runt before you came in. But, runts only stay runts for a certain amount of time. It’s possible for groups to not have runts - and that’s essentially what this group was doing. Kate had outgrown her runt status and was well considered the youngest (in experience) member of their group but had the same social standing as Toby. While it was a joke to refer to her as a runt, they hadn’t had one for a while.

That’s where you come in. You’re the first member to be considered a runt in quite some time. And you can tell they’ve been itching to take it out on someone.

“Where’s Hoodie?” Masky asks as his fingertips trace the lip of his glass. “Should be thrilled to see we’ve got another one.”

“Only t-thing holding h-him back from h-hurting you is the f-f-f-fact the O-Operator asked f-f-for us to t-take her,” Toby giggles slightly as he crushes another pop can. “He’s h-h-handling something, Should be c-c-coming back now, though.”

“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear,” you hear another man’s voice chuckle as the front door swings gently open.

Standing in the doorway holding a crowbar and wearing a white t-shirt is Hoodie - sans hoodie. It’s much too hot to be wearing one anyways. He haphazardly tosses the crowbar to the floor before closing the front door behind him, then begins walking towards the kitchen.

“This is her?” He asks as he takes a seat next to Masky, silently thanking Kate for the lemonade.

“Disappointing, right?” Kate lightly jokes, making Hoodie smile.

“In this form, sure,” Hoodie observes as his hazel eyes rake over your form. “She looks weak, scrawny, low endurance, probably forgot all her skills, what, with her being missing for a year?” He says it like it’s a game but looks at you like he despises you. “Not training her. Not my problem, and especially not in this heat.”

“She’s part of our group,” Masky replies in a slightly exasperated tone.

“No-Nose goes,” Toby suddenly blurts out.

Everyone presses their index to their nose except for Masky, who sighs dejectedly.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “Let’s go, Reader. You’ve been awfully quiet.” The brown haired man says in a less than pleased tone, picking his glass up and momentarily pausing to place it in the sink.

You quietly follow in suit, nodding to your other comrades before following him out.

The nice thing about waiting for Hoodie to stir things up was that it was the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and a breeze was beginning to shift through the air. It wasn’t near as hot due the sun no longer beating down on you. Besides, it was nice to get out of the house for a bit.

Masky and his group must have been staying here for a while, because he walked into the woods on this deer path like it was nothing and led you to a clearing. There were a few training things, but nothing of any substance - just a temporary fix until they were somewhere more permanent. Proxies are nomadic, after all.

“You still have a knife on you?”

“I would’ve stabbed you with it.”

He shoots you a look as if to tell you to watch your mouth and you holds your hands up.

“I’m joking,” you defend. “When I meant I wanted to never look back, I truly, deep down to my bones, meant it.”

Masky’s hand goes to his belt loop where he takes out a knife. It’s… severely dulled. Looks like he doesn’t trust you just yet.

“See that dummy? Show me what you remember and I’ll decide if we’re out here until midnight or not.”

The dummy in question looks gods awful. It’s missing an arm, the stuffing is all over the grass, and the poor thing looks like it can’t support its own weight anymore. You wonder which one of your comrades got it to this state of if this was a group effort.

You narrow your eyes and get a hold of the blade in your grasp. It’s much nicer than a kitchen knife - reminds you of what you used to use when you were but a shadow in the night. You glance at him, then the dummy, and decide to get to work.

There’s no use in running. The Slender Man will hunt you down regardless, and he won’t be as merciful the second time around.

“Stop stalling,” Masky chides.

You take in a breath, and do as told.

To say six months passed with ease would be a lie. It’s been six months of hell - and that’s mostly because you’re a runt paired with the fact you never wanted to be back here to begin with.

It’s been strange, you’ll give it that. The proxy in you took over faster than the human side of you could and you integrated back into proxy culture and society far easier than anyone expected. Of course, there were some moments where your group members would ruffle your feathers and put you in your place, but that was expected. To be a proxy is to be put under fire until you prove yourself otherwise.

You’ve gone on operations with them. Took lives again. Stole things again. You settled back into the life you originally left behind as if you’d never departed to begin with. That’s how deep the proxy mindset and muscle memory is embedded into those it takes hold of. It sets itself out to be the only thing you’ll ever know. You live by it, you die by it.

So, where have you been for the past six months? Well, still in Mississippi. About two weeks after you first arrived with your new group, you and the group moved down south near the ocean and have been staying there the entire time. Luckily, this place was considered a temp house for the people who owned it - they liked spending time in Europe - which left this place as yours. Besides, the Slender Man likes having you close. He was able to periodically check in on you with you being a few hours away as opposed to days. Why he was so interested in you, you’ll never know.

According to both him, and Masky, you’d been making good progress. By the end of your six months (lovingly referred to as a “trial run” by your group), you were half way back to what you used to be. It was disheartening to only hear ���half” but it was better than nothing. A part of you wonders why you’re so inclined to get better when you should be focusing on leaving.

It’s not like you didn’t try.

You tried so many times that your group started a tally board and whoever found you first got a mark under their name. Whoever hit five before the board was reset got the next operation (or operation of their choosing) off. For the first few weeks when you were but a stranger with them, the punishments were harsh and unforgiving, like they hate you to your core. But, as the months went on, they went from fists to phrases. Eventually, you stopped trying to run so they no longer had to beat you. Every time you got that far off look in your eye, someone would reprimand you. It’s probably because they cared about you.

That’s common for proxies, bonding with your teammates on a level outsiders can’t understand. It’s mostly to keep you safe while out in the field. And unfortunately for you, you’ve been feeling that way towards your group. You’ve covered for each one at least once, and that gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re in a strange place, if you’re being honest.

Take for instance now, back in the passenger seat of a car and heading back to Rosswood with Masky (he told you his real name is Tim) to talk with the Slender Man face to face. While the others in your group have been keeping up with him regularly, you haven’t seen him in person since well, six months ago. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach as you draw closer to the woods you once considered home.

“You nervous?” Masky hums as he turns the radio down.

“Yeah,” you reply, gazing out at the rolling fields again. “What if he-”

“It’d be stupid of him,” Masky cuts you off. “Six months of putting all this time and effort only to off you? Just… Just don’t say anything stupid,” he reminds you, a slight teasing tone lingering on his words. He looks at you with gentle eyes.

You scoff playfully. “Eyes on the road, weirdo.”

Standing in the Slender Man’s office this time as a welcome guest is weird. There’s still the scent of jasmine and incense, but there’s also something sweeter - like a memory he’s trying to provoke specifically for you. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, and it doesn’t feel near as suffocating as did that first time.

“You’ve certainly changed,” a deep voice says with an audible smile as it reverberates through your head.

“Sir,” you bow your head slightly.

“I’m going to make this short,” the Slender Man begins. “Miss Reader, I am satisfied with your progress these past six months.”

“Thank you, Sir,” both you and Masky reply.

The tall man hums. “However, you have only reached half of what you used to be. I believe the longer you stay in this group, the better you will become.”

You take in a sharp breath.

“Does that bother you?” The Slender Man doesn’t sound mad.

“I…”

Masky mentally clicks his tongue at you, and you glance over through the corner of your eye.

You decide to respond carefully. “I know normalcy… Sir, I don’t know if this life was ever meant for me, but,” you take in a deep breath and ball your fists to ground yourself. “If this is what you want of me, I will do it.”

The Slender Man chuckles. “Timothy, you’ve done an excellent job with this one. Perhaps I should have placed Pariah with you,” he emptily thinks aloud with another slight laugh. “I regret to inform you Miss Reader, that normalcy was never an option. You will go back with your team and you will continue to better yourself until I say otherwise.” He makes no move to stand from his desk, but his hands reach out.

Taking that as a nonverbal cue, you and Masky stand and each take a large hand.

The Slender Man’s fingers close around your much smaller hands before his hand leaves your grasp entirely. Instead of striking you, he gently cups your cheek. “Now go. I look forward to seeing you in six months.” The warmth is gone from his tone but lingers like doused coals in a still simmering fireplace.

“Thank you for your time,” Masky bows slightly, nodding for you to follow.

Without any other words, you nod to your boss and follow Masky out. The two of you trade silent conversation as you exit the mansion and back to the car. You slip in just like you did six months ago, and so too does Masky. The car comes to life, and you begin to peel out of the parking lot, back to Mississippi.

“How are you feeling?” Masky asks as he pulls down the sun visor after squinting at the beams of light.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you say in slight surprise. “Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Or,” Masky begins. “You were always meant for this.”

You laugh in response and smack his shoulder lighter. “You know you’re not slick, right?” You tease as you stick your tongue out.

Masky chuckles deeply and gets back on the expressway. “I try when I can.”

“Oh really?” You pretend to be shocked. “Where was that smooth talking when I first met you?”

“Out the window because I just met you,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You are literally the worst,” you teasingly scoff.

“Right back at you,” Masky breathily laughs. His dark eyes stay focused on the road as

you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Really though,” you say as you stretch slightly. “Thanks for not killing me.” You look at him with such gentle eyes that he can’t help but smile just as genuinely in response.

Masky won’t lie, he was admittedly worried for you in the beginning. What with you running away all the time, speaking ill of literally everyone, almost getting everyone caught by the cops… You were colorful, for lack of better words. It’s been nice cultivating that into something better. Maybe you’d make something of yourself out of this garbage fire of a hiccup.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “It’s my responsibility to watch out for you anyways,” he says as before honking at someone who almost swerved into your lane. “Besides, you’re not all too bad, and as long as it’s me making sure you don’t set shit on fire… Think we’ll be just fine.” He looks over at you and smiles warmly - it feels like the sun - before he turns back to the road.

You hum contentedly as your hand reaches for the radio. You turn up the music and let it play, a serene, comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

[allicekitty13]

Born To Run: Chapter 1

Mary-Alice Brandon has just returned to her hometown after an incident causing her to relocate just a year ago. Meanwhile, Jasper has become increasingly frustrated with his home life and decides to uncover just what exactly his brother had been hiding. In 1957 two people, with two drastically different personalities meet for the first time. Will their worlds clash or will they realize the only ones they can truly trust with their secrets are each other.

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

Her eyes fluttered open at the prompting chime of her alarm clock currently ringing on the bedside table to her right. Mustering up as much energy as possible when one was just pulled promptly frum slumber, Alice rolled from the comfortable position on her side to lie flat on her back. Despite the powder blue clock still ringing throughout her bedroom, Alice couldn't help but to reflect on the wonderful dream she'd been having.

In the night vision, she'd been back in Paris shopping with her step-sister Kate. Being in France the past year had been like a dream come true, a much-needed break from the reality she'd been forced to return to. Kate was newly engaged and thus had decided to return home to Nevada with Alice and her fiance, Garrett, in tow. 

Alice's stomach grumbled loudly and painfully, pulling her from the reminiscing session. She snapped her eyes shut tightly, attempting to ignore the alarm's offending bell and the painful ache in her stomach.  Of course, it was no use; her vacation was over. It was time to come down from the clouds and return to reality. Needing to focus on one issue at a time and the alarm still prompting to her side currently being the most prominent, Alice took a deep breath accepting her fate. Summing the energy to flick the little tab on top of the clock to the off position effectively silenced the alarm blanketing the room in silence. 

Willing herself to sit up fully, Alice removed the pale pink sleeping mask covering her eyes, finally greeting the day. She pulled the plush comforter away from her small body and swung her left over the mattress, placing her feet in the house slippers kept neatly next to the bed. She pulled the think pink satin robe that hung from her bedpost over her thin shoulders as she crossed the room to the window overlooking the back garden. Pulling open the lace curtains, Alice gazed down at the flowers.

It was just before dawn, her favorite time of the day. Alice reveled in the way the dim twilight touched down on the beautiful flowers and the small white iron bench she had coerced her father into placing in the middle of the lovely space. The scene was peaceful; day had started, although night hadn't quite ended. Nature reflecting how nothing was black and white; there were gray areas in everything, in everyone. Nothing like the reality she would be walking into in only a few hours. 

Turning her attention back to the clock, the small teen accepted that she had been staring out the window, lost in thought for far too long. Something her step-father, whom she was meant to meet for breakfast shortly, was regularly scolding her for.

She didn't remember her biological father, and her mother rarely spoke of the man. The facts she had were that her parents had been wed young in an arranged marriage in 1938, Edgar Brandon had been drafted to join the war just two years after Alice was born. The man had gone missing in action, presumed dead. 

Shortly after Alice's fourth birthday, Lilian had met a charming man by the name of Eleazar Burke. Before the year was out, the happy couple were married. Eleazar was the only father Alice had ever known. The now seventeen-year-old adored her unusual family; Kate was more than she could have ever asked for in an older sibling they, of course, fought at times but very close. While they may not be biologically related, Alice couldn't imagine a kinder, more understanding father in Eleazar. He loved all three of his daughters, including Alice, equally never playing favorites. He didn't play favorites, distributing the wealth and opportunity attached to his name evenly between the three girls.

Once she'd gotten moving, preparing for the day came like second nature. She now stood in front of the mirror with her hair and makeup done. She was fully dressed in her favorite skirt and sweater set, complete with the new petticoat she had picked up shopping with Kate over the summer. She'd been saving it specifically for her first day at school back in her hometown since the incident. The way it flared out the red skirt was both fashionable and made her hips look just a bit thicker. The matching cardigan hung somewhat loose, also in line with the current trends while slightly masking the frailness of her frame. She smoothed down the skirt and straightened out her pan collar perfectly before pinning both sides down with the lucky pearl collar pins inherited from her maternal grandmother. Alice took one final look in the mirror with a deep breath and silent prayer. She plastered a smile on her face, ready to face the day.

Meanwhile, across town, Jasper Whitlock was in for a quite literal rude awakening. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're gonna' be late for school." With a groan of annoyance, Jasper opened his eyes to the familiar face of his cousin Rosalie. The sassy blonde was simultaneously one of his favorite people yet also the curse of his existence. Jasper frequently shifted between feelings of gratefulness for having such a fun-loving relative living next door and wishing her family had never moved across the country to help out after his mother's passing.

With her presently standing next to his bed, hands on her hips, very likely fully prepared to throw something at him if he didn't get moving. He was currently feeling the latter. "Since when do you care about school?" He groaned, sitting up on the thin mattress lying on the floor. "More importantly, why are you here, and how did you get in my room?"

"The door, your dads passed out again and it was unlocked." Rosalie shrugged, crossing the room to take a seat at the only chair not covered in clothing, sheet music, or records as she examined her nails. "Anyway, I don't care about school, but I don't want to miss the fireworks, so we're at least going to morning classes. Now, get up and get dressed."

"What are you yammering on about?" Jasper responded as he threw the worn, tattered blankets to the side and grabbed a white t-shirt from its place, lazily shoved into an already open dresser drawer directly to the side of his mattress.

"Mary-Alice Brandon is coming back today."

"Yeah," The other teen rolled his eyes. "Well fuck Mary-Alice Brandon."

"Oh, come on, tell me you don't care about the inherent entertainment of watching everyone flock back to following her lead and leaving poor Charlotte in the dust."

"You're demented."

"You know how petty high school politics amuse me so." The tall blonde woman shrugged before she stood straightening out her leather jacket as she crossed the room. "At least come to support your best friend? Charlotte is either going to be elated or upset. If it's the latter, it's going to make Pete upset. Relationships are kind of like dominos that way. Now hurry up, Riley's waiting outside, and we need a ride, oh favorite cousin of mine."

With that, Rosalie confidently strutted out of her cousin's room, down that hallway. In the Whitlock's living room, her mother and uncle were engaged in the same decade-old argument they'd been having from the moment Ruth and Joseph Hale had packed up their family moving from New York to Nevada. Rosalie had only been one at the time, having no memory of what actually happened. The backlash, however, had caused a ripple effect through the lives of everyone in the family. Because of this, it was no secret that Irene Whitlock had passed away shortly after Jasper's birth. That uncle Thomas had fallen into deep despair losing his job and drinking the days away. 

It was concern for the boys, James and Jasper, that had prompted the move. Her mother so worried for her nephew's well being that they'd relocated their entire lives to be there and help take care of them. It was meant to be temporary until Thomas got back on his feet. Seventeen years later, the siblings were still arguing over it. Her mother pleading for the man to think of his children. 

Unwilling to witness the same fight yet again, Rosalie left the house and headed to the street where her twin brother stood leaning against Jasper's car. "Is he coming?" Riley asked, disinterestedly kicking absently at the pavement, scuffing up his shoes in the process. 

"Yeah, I had to guilt-trip him, but he's coming."

Just as the words had left Rosalie's mouth, the seventeen-year-old in question came shuffling out of the house. Once the door was carefully and quietly shut behind him, Jasper's demeanor shifted, and he confidently stalked down the sidewalk, climbing into his car without uttering a single word. No sooner had the twins piled into the vehicle behind him than Jasper had peeled out of the driveway headed in the direction of the local high school, barely giving Riley enough time to pull the door shut.

Outside the school, Peter, Jasper's best friend, a tall boy with dark hair, was standing in the parking lot talking to Charlotte. The pair had begun dating over the summer, much to Jasper's annoyance. Their relationship had started in the fall when the girl had entered the antique shop owned by Jasper's uncle that Peter worked in part-time. The two had hit it off as instant friends. Despite a plethora of drama involving Charlotte's now ex-boyfriend Demetri and her friend Jane, the pair had entered into a romantic relationship.

While Jasper didn't particularly care for the girl or her crowd, Peter was gone for her. So the teen put up with Charlotte, and more often than he'd like the teenage queens who followed her around like puppies. Over time, though he would die before admitting it to anyone, he'd even begun to almost like her.

So, when he exited his car, Jasper nodded in greeting to the new couple from across the parking lot before turning to his own social circle in the parking space next to his own. The teens were gathered around admiring Benjamin's new car that he'd won in a race just a few weeks prior. Maria, one of his oldest friends having grown up in the same neighborhood, was already stretched out across the hood leaning back against the windshield. A cigarette burned from its place tucked loosely between her fingers as she chatted with Lucy and Nettie about their plans for the afternoon once they'd ditched.

Jasper was well aware that most if any of the assembled teenagers would be ducking out before the end of the school day. Personally, he intended to be long gone as soon as Rosalie's attention was elsewhere. Which, judging by how engaged she seemed to be in her conversation with Benjamin and Randall on the mechanical details of the new car, wouldn't be long. However, he was already here, and it wouldn't hurt to at least stay for first period. So he elected to join in on Riley, Makenna, and Charles's conversation about the new Buddy Holly single.

Jasper had just made plans with the latter two to head to the local diner later and play the song on the jukebox when Peter, followed closely by Charlotte, headed over to collect his best friend for homeroom. Bidding his friends goodbye, Jasper followed the other boy, his girlfriends, and the group of students she associated with into the building where their lockers were located. As always, because lockers were assigned alphabetically by surname, Peter and Jasper's lockers were right next to each other. 

Not planning on being an active student, let alone showing up at school more often than necessary, Jasper hadn't brought alone anything to warrant keeping in a locker. So, he took a seat on a bench located under a window next to the set of lockers letting the other teens chat as they placed their belonging in the metal storage structures. 

"Is that Mary-Alice?" Eric Yorke, a rather talkative and, in Jasper's opinion, annoying boy gasped out capturing his and Charlotte's attention. The latter turned away from her conversation with Bella and Jane to look at the boy in confusion. 

Charlotte had known her best friend was back in town, but when they'd spoken earlier Alice, as she'd decided to begin going by dropping the first half of her name, had stated her parents would allow the tiny teen to skip the first week of classes. Being an exceptional student well on the way to becoming valedictorian, and taking the incident into consideration, the school had happily accommodated.

"I thought you said she wasn't coming back until next week Char?" Bella spoke quietly, her eyes now following the same trajectory of Eric's

"Looks like the reign of Charlotte is over." Mike snickered, also staring at the top of the stairwell. Following her friends' gaze, Charlotte's expression quickly morphed from one of confusion to that of utter delight. 

Jasper didn't care much for the particulars of high school politics. Prior to Peter's entanglement with Charlotte, the name Mary-Alice had been nothing more than a blip on his radar. The two ran in vastly different circles, he being a proud greaser surrounding himself with like-minded truants who cared more about races and the newest records than anything else. She, a spoiled overachiever. The goody-two-shoes type who headed every committee whose word the majority of student's hung on. Still, even he'd noticed when the girl had disappeared a year ago. So, he turned his attention to the sight that had captured everyone's attention, curious as to what the commotion was about.

 He was met with the sight of a girl who's smile was so pure she almost seemed to glow. Short despite her blatant attempt to make up the difference with the kitten heels she wore. Her slightly curly hair was a chocolate-colored brown rested just short of her chin. Based on the perfect angles of her collar and the way she kept nervously smoothing out her skirt, it was apparent that she'd taken great care to ensure every aspect of her appearance was perfect. His dislike for the teen was instant; he hardly tried to hide the scowl from his face as he watched her scan the hallway. Once her blue eyes landed upon the small group, she burst into a bright smile and a somehow graceful run down the stairwell.

"Charlotte!" Alice exclaimed in a melodic chirp as she reached the gathering. 

"Alice!" The taller girl responded with equal enthusiasm throwing her arms around her friend. "What are you doing at school?" She questioned the smile never leaving her face as she released her friend.

"Papa thought it might be best to just jump right in if I was up for it since I'm home already." Her smile faltered at the statement but returned quickly. "Who are our new friends?" She asked catching sight of Jasper and Peter eyeing the two with curiosity. The former of whom rolled his eyes at the assumption, he was not nor would her ever be her friend.

Jasper opened his mouth to inform this 'Mary-Alice' of as much, but Charlotte responded before he could get the words out. "Alice," She stated grabbing Peter's hand. "This is Peter, my boyfriend. And that's his best friend Jasper."

"Wow," Alice's eyes widened. "I have missed a lot. It's lovely to meet you both." She smiled once again as she took a seat on the bench next to Jasper, expertly tucking her skirt underneath her slim legs as she descended. "The four of us should go bowling after school; I'd love to get to know the both of you better."

Jasper's annoyance grew at the suggestion, unable to put up with anymore he stood in a haste. "That's never going to happen." He shot the small girl a glare and stormed down the hall out of the building. Forget Rosalie, he thought approaching his vehicle in the parking lot. Forget school, and most of all forget Mary-Alice Brandon.

[mileycyprus-hill]

Feliz Navidad! A RDR2 Secret Santa Fic.

A @rdrsecretsanta​ fic for @chaoticneautral​ I hope I did your OC Ruth justice with this. I had a lot of fun writing this for you! Merry Christmas and I hope you like it!

Summary: The gang celebrates Christmas (Pre-Blackwater) and new member Ruth feels left out until a special someone comes by to give her a present. 

Word count: 1610

December 24th, the day before Christmas. Ruth had barely known the holiday, let alone celebrate it. She only slightly recalls her nanny telling her the story of some baby born to be the savior of humanity, or something like that. The other gangs Ruth rode with? Well, they took no part in such a humbling ceremony that is Christmas, let alone speak about it.

Sitting quietly from her spot on the log, Ruth tries to avoid the awkwardness of taking part in such a celebration that she’s ignorant of. The warm fire in front of her roars and crackles as more logs are heaped onto the flames. The dry desert air is crisp and cool, as the warmth of the desert sun has dropped below the horizon hours ago.

Lyrics sung in broken melodies carry through the air by the cheerful members of the Van der Linde gang, who surround the bonfire with their joyful songs. Their words slur from the relaxing taste of whiskey and beer.

Ruth holds her bottle in her cold hands, still nearly full of the malty beer. Watching them quietly from her lonely spot, she meekly taps the glass bottle with her fingertips. The soft tapping clinks in time with their drunken songs.

O come, all ye faithful

Joyful and triumphant

O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem

Come and behold Him

Born the King of Angels!

O come, let us adore Him

O come, let us adore Him

O come, let us adore Him

Christ the Lord

The night drags on and so do the festivities. Reverend Swanson gives a short sermon and a prayer before stumbling to his tent, most likely to pass out from the combination of liquor and morphine, Ruth guesses. Shortly after the reverend’s drunken sermon, Dutch speaks. The patriarchal leader thanks the reverend and continues on with his regular poem of faith, love, and family. In his rich voice, Dutch speaks proudly of how thankful he is to have such loyal followers.

Ruth’s heart grows warm with pride and immense joy at Dutch’s words. Never before has she had a leader so open, so loving. From her first impression, he would seem cold and careless, but in just a short amount of time, Ruth found out there’s much more to the man named Dutch van der Linde.

In fact, there’s much more than what meets the eye when it comes to all of the members of camp, including one who caught Ruth’s eye.

She looks around her, sitting on the dry log just at the edge of the circle and resting her elbows on her knees. Nearly everyone encircles the fire in front of her; their cheeks red from beer and whisky and rum. They all seem to be having a good time, enjoying each other’s company, but Ruth still feels empty.

Mary-Beth stands from her spot to sing a beautiful Christmas carol, to which the gang shortly join in. Her sweet voice carries across the campground while Ruth takes her cue to step out quietly into the shadows.

Her footsteps back to her tent are muffled by the arid dirt and the loud voices of the party. As Ruth steps closer to her private tent, she’s reminded of how grateful she is to have one all to her own—no one barging in to use her for their own selfish pleasure. For once, she’s safe and can finally be alone.

But it indeed saddens her. For someone so used to the life of a lone wolf, the effects of loneliness can still wear on their spirit.

Christmas is a fairly new concept to her, at least the gang’s version of it. If only she could bring herself to celebrate it with them. She can’t help it. Ruth’s used to being so alone that celebrating in a party makes her feel out of place.

Standing at the open entrance of her tent for what felt like minutes, Ruth shakes her thoughts and steps forward to shut herself out from the rest.

Until she feels a soft, yet firm tap on her shoulder. It nearly startles her as she gasps softly and turns to see who’s behind her.

Johnny Marston, the handsome devil who caught her eye months ago after she joined. His black hair blends into the surrounding darkness behind him, while the distant amber fire glows in his eyes.

He greets her delicately with a smile and asks in his scratchy voice, “Turnin’ in already?”

Nervously biting her lower lip, she answers, “Yeah, ahem. I’m just, uh...tired. Thought I’d call it a night.”

“You ain’t gonna stay up with us?” John asks her. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t singing with all of us.”

Ruth fidgets with her hands, feeling put on the spot by him. Sensing her nervousness, John quickly grabs into his back pocket and pulls out a small box.

“Here,” John nearly whispers. “I got this for you.”

The small, red wooden box gleams in his hand. It looks brand new, with its freshly lacquered wood and golden inscription.

“Feliz Navidad,” John says.

Ruth looks to him in surprise. He had never bothered to learn Spanish before, let alone speak it. To hear such a thoughtful greeting in a familiar tongue, it lit a spark in her heart.

John notices her confusion and shrugs sheepishly, hoping he pronounced the words right.

“Javier taught me it...thought you’d like it.” He says. He raises his arm out to her to offer her this small token of holiday affection.

Ruth’s eyes dart down to the box and back up to John, her mouth agape and speechless.

“Shit, did I say it wrong? I’m sorry.” John mutters in shame, now cursing himself. He wonders if Javier taught him a dirty phrase instead of ‘merry Christmas’. Boy, does he feel foolish now. He thinks to himself how he’s going to strangle Javier the next time he sees him.

Smiling at his slight humiliation, Ruth takes the gift from his hand. Her own palms are sweating.

“No, it’s right,” Ruth consoles him. “Feliz Navidad, John.”

She cracks open the cherry wooden box to find a spectacular, sparkling brooch. A bright ruby gemstone sits in the center, surrounded by leaves made of silver and diamonds.

Her heart stops and her knees lock into place. It’s perhaps the most beautiful jewel she’s ever seen. And it’s for her, she wonders?

Ruth stumbles upon her words, trying to thank John for such a wonderful gift, but her tongue is numb and fat and her thoughts are wavering.

Staring at him in surprise, she sees him smiling and wheezing a scratchy chuckle.

“I knew you’d like it,” John gleams. “Cause of ‘Ruby Ruth’, you know? I thought it’d be kinda funny.”

“How did you manage to afford this?” Ruth finally manages to speak and think coherently.

John simply smiles and looks to her. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “It’s Christmas.”

Suddenly Ruth doesn’t know how she mustered the bravery, but she finds herself wrapping her arms around John’s shoulders. The box still in her hand, she hugs him tightly. Her heartbeat races while John returns the hug with his arms wrapped around her waist and his face nuzzled in her silky hair.

“Thank you,” Ruth whispers.

“You’re welcome,” John responds with his voice muffled in her hair, relishing the tight embrace.

He breaks the hug for a moment to pull out a tall bottle from his satchel.

“I also got this,” he says, holding a bottle of red wine in his hand. “I’d like to share it with you, if you’d like.” His cheeks flush to match the dark red wine inside the bottle.

“I would,” Ruth answers, accepting John’s hand and allowing him to lead her to his tent across the way.

With the gang still singing at the fire at the far edge of camp, the two of them slip inside John’s tent unnoticed. The sound of a match strike is soon followed by the soft glow of the oil lamp on the nightstand.

“Can I...see it on you?” John asks sheepishly, pointing to the gift box in her hand.

Ruth nods her head and gathers her hair behind her, turning her back to John while he plucks the brooch out of the box.

She feels a gentle tug of the brooch against her hair as John places it in the notch of her simple updo. Her scalp feels flushed with heat at the touch of John’s fingertips against her head. Strands of hair hang down near the front of her face, framing her with their flattering black ink.

“Beautiful,” John whispers, taking in the beautiful sight before him.

The twilight of dawn approaches as the early morning sun announces its arrival. The dark blue horizon glows in subtle pinks and violets, like brushstrokes on a canvas. The once boisterous noises of camp are now silenced, with only soft snores and drunken hiccups left behind.

But there is still one faint sound coming from the tent of John Marston.

An empty wine bottle lays abandoned in front of the entrance, tossed onto the dirt with not a drop left. A muted song sung by two contrasting voices barely pass through the thick, green canvas. The song is lead by John’s voice and memory, guiding Ruth’s sweet, angelic air through the melody and lyrics.

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth,

To touch their harps of gold:

"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,

From heaven's all-gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

To hear the angels sing.

————————-

Merry Christmas!

[synthsoup]

see you again (john shelby x reader)

Request : Hi! Could I request a John Shelby x reader where she wants him but she thinks he likes her friend so she's thrown off when he starts to show interest in the reader?

Words :1.3k

A/N : not totally sure if this is good (its bAd and i got carried away), but I tried and this was really fun to write w o w, please enjoy.

***

Sparkling champagne trickles into your mouth as you feel silk cascade down your body. This was probably one of the most luxurious days of your life, you couldn’t even begin to fathom the money everything you were surrounded with would cost you if not already payed for. At the present moment, you were in a fancy dress shop with your best friend, Ruth.

She had told you about her encounter with the eldest Shelby brother, Arthur, telling you of some inconceivable party that she was supposedly invited to. It all sounded like one big fantasy to you– that is until she had informed you that she could bring a guest, and not long after that when a wildly expensive car showed up at her house. You were instructed to follow her, being the chosen guest, and you found yourself in the sort of shop you had only dreamed of since your youth.

“Oh Y/N! You look stunning!” Ruth exclaims as she runs her gaze over the dark maroon dress that hugged your figure in all the right places. She was right, it was as if the dress was made just for you.

“I could say the same about you Ruth. I can’t believe this is happening!” you say, and she gives a breathy sigh. While examining herself in the mirror she talks,

“Me either. But honestly, while all the brothers are easy on the eyes, it’s John that’s really got my attention.”

“Oh really?” you say genuinely curious. “And why’s that?”

“He’s just got a way about him. His face Y/N, and he’s so tall and- I don’t know.” she says while a woman pins her hemline. Ruth seemed to fit into this life perfectly, you think as she smiles at herself in the mirror. You giggle a bit,

“Well who knows Ruthie, in a few hours anything can happen.” you say cheerfully and she squeals back at you.

And indeed the next few hours go by in a blur, and before you know it your hair is all done up, and someone is opening the car door. In front of you is an huge, royal looking building. Though you didn’t know its purpose, you didn’t quite care as you saw the elegant people gliding across floors. It seemed like a million possibilities could be flooding through the windows along with the warm light, contrasting against the night sky. What a life, you thought.

You walked in, and while you’d never believed in fate or anything, when your eyes clicked with another pair across the room, you didn’t know what to think. His tall frame stood, and he stared you down with an incomprehensible look before a small crowd of people moved between you and him, cutting of your line of sight.

You turn to find Ruth, and you walk to the side before she grabs your arm.

“There he is!” she says, and when you look where she’s looking you see the handsome fellow from before walking in your direction, but this time with his gaze on Ruth. Of course, you thought. It was John Shelby.

“Hello there miss. And I suppose you’re the girl Arthur’s been talking about?” he says with a smile.

“That’s me.” She giggles. Oh boy. You could tell she was going to lay it on thick for this man, so you decided to step away and give her space. You wanted so badly to push down what you’d felt when you looked at him. Perhaps fate wasn’t real, but you felt pretty cursed at this moment.

The night was whirling by, and while several men asked you to dance, you tried to accept and enjoy yourself. Hell, you did enjoy yourself, you just couldn’t shake off the feeling in your stomach. While you were dancing, you would occasionally pass Ruth and John. He seemed to enjoy her company, every time she asked him to dance he would politely comply.

People were quickly settling down with the night, passing out drunk on chairs, dancing sloppily and slowly on the dance floor. You were wandering around the gigantic room for a while, simply observing when you saw Ruth, head propped up in her hand gazing at John who was about half way across the room. Her head looked about ready to plop down right on the table however, based on how drunk she looked.

You chuckle to yourself, and as you’re about to make your way to her you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. You turn and automatically feel a slight pink tinge appear on your cheeks. You can’t help it with the way he stares at you, and the corners of his mouth tilt up.

“Hey love, i’m-”

“John Shelby.” you finish in a breath.

“My reputation precedes me.” He chuckles.

“That’s quite the understatement.” you say, quickly warming up to him.

“Well, would you- would you like to dance with me?” he questions, holding his hand out.

You freeze for a bit as the wheels in your head turn rapidly. Was he not just dancing with Ruth all night? Was it just her eagerness? You think as quickly as possible and decide to take his hand. His face breaks in a smile and he takes you slowly in his arms, putting his large hand on your waist and holding your hand with the other. You sway for a bit getting comfortable and eventually leaning into him. He lets out a breath,

“Can I be honest? I’ve been thinkin’ about you all night, ever since you walked through the door.” he says. You look up at him and his eyebrows are slightly pushed together as if he’s in deep thought.

“Really? ”

“Yeah. I mean, sorry if I-”

“No, no it’s fine. I have to admit I've felt the same.” you both release the tension in your bodies at the same time, and continue to dance to the slow song, winding around the room.

“Say, what’s your name anyways? I don’t think iv’e ever seen you before.”

“Well i’m only here because my friend was invited.” You say nodding over at Ruth. He shakes his head,

“She’s certaintly.. persistant.” he says cautiously. This garners a laugh out of you, and the look in Johns eye is priceless, looking so proud as if he had just made the whole world laugh.

“It’s Y/N, by the way.” you say still with a lingering smile. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you had gotten until you were nose to nose, breaths intermingling.

“Y/N.” he repeats testing it out on his mouth. “Beautiful.” he whispers, and before you know it it’s as if a magnet has been pulling you together the whole night, and finally you were allowed to feel each other. His lips brush yours, and you grab his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his. He puts one hand on your cheek and the other glides over your hip moving you closer.

You sigh as the kiss grows deeper and you move your hands from his forearms to wound them around his torso. Eventually the two of you reluctantly pull away from the kiss, and a silence follows as you stare at each other with dazed eyes.

“John, I-”

“I have to see you again.” he breathes, and your breath hitches when you realize you feel exactly the same.

“I’m telling you John, i’m not from here. I know nothing about this life, how am I ever going to-”

“Y/N, I will do whatever it takes to be with you. I have to see you again.” he practically pleads with you. It doesn’t take long for you to nod rapidly. You’d never felt like this before, and based on the way Johns slightly unsteady hands gripped yours you were fairly certain he felt the same.  You would see him again, you had to. After all, life is full of change.

***

requests are open!

[cianmars]

If they had a kid meme: If Red Snowing in the "Three's Not A Crowd Verse" had a second baby? (Or more) :)

Ooo I shockingly haven’t actually thought about this one… (Putting this under a read more as lets be honest the Charming brood is massive) 

From THIS verse (if you haven’t read it you might not understand the dynamics between Em and her parents)

After the curse broke they find that the adults age very very slowly, like the magic is trying to make up for them losing so much time. People still celebrate birthdays but as soon as they hit 21 their body slows down its ageing. Because of the curse Emma doesn’t age at all for the next 28 years, Emma is obviously pissed off that her siblings surpass her in age (they were all  more mature than her since they were like 10) but there’s nothing they can do about it so she has to get used to it.A year after the curse broke there’s two kids who desperately need to be fostered, they aren’t sure if Emma’s ready for it, but the kids need their help so they take them in intending to keep them for a couple of weeks. They have werewolf genes (like a quarter wolf) so Ruby was asked to look after them as a precaution (there’s still some wolf prejudice from the residents). They become quite attached to these kids and Emma clearly loves them (though she still acts out sometimes) so they continue fostering them and eventually adopt them.

Name: Emma Ruth Charming (20) 

Gender:  Female

General Appearance: Very much a tomboy, she could live in pyjamas if she could, but when she’s not wearing them she wears comfy clothes mostly plaid shirts, beanies, jeans, sweats whenever she can. She’d rather die than wear a dress or anything pink. She’s barely 5 foot tall (she often whines about people in her family moving things up onto high shelves).

Personality: She’s very young for her age because of her past and because of the curse, she’s a complete troublemaker, mostly because she tries to prove she’s mature and that she doesn’t need to be looked after by her parents but as often proved she does. She’s stubborn, impulsive, a spitfire, and has her father’s tact - but she’s also kind, funny, and good.

Special Talents: She has strong magic but it’s extremely temperamental. 

Who they like better: She adores all three of her parents and has a special connection to each other them… that being said she’s a complete daddy’s girl.

Who they take after more: She’s the perfect mix of all three of her parents, but personality and looks wise she’s a little bit more David than her mothers. 

Personal Head canon: - She’s immature and childish, she acts more like a 6/7 year old than an adult, it’s not her fault it’s down to her childhood and the curse, but she has a hard time accepting that. When Cassie and Zac first move in she tries to hide it but they show her they don’t care after Ruby, Snow, and David explain it to them.- She almost always ends up sleeping in her parents bed, along with her blanket and the teddies her parents got her, it’s a good thing that her parents had a huge bed.- She’s always cold and hoards blankets, especially when she’s sick, her parents have to stop her wrapping like 8 fleece blankets around herself as she’ll overheat.-She’s a very fast runner.- She acts out a lot when her parents tell her that they have to move to a bigger place, her siblings and parents eventually help her to get used to them having to move to a house, but a small part of her will always miss her first home. Face Claim: Britt Robertson

Name: Cassidy Emily Charming (Cassie or Cas)

Gender: Female

General Appearance: She looks very much like Ruby despite not being her biological daughter, she’s also got a similar style to Ruby, she’s pretty good at keeping up to date with fashion but can often be found in tanks and sweats when lounging around or after cheer practice. She has dark brown hair and brown eyes with flecks of gold in her irises. 


Personality: She’s one of those popular girls at high school, who everyone assumes would be a massive bitch, but she’s actually one of the nicest people ever, she sticks up for people and really cares about her studies. She is fierce, she had grown up basically raising her brother so she had to be, but she’s completely mellowed out from when she first moved in with her family. She tends to not lose her temper often, she prefers to find logical solutions to problems rather than just complaining, but once in a blue moon she will completely lose it. She’s the queen of sarcastic retorts.


Special Talents: She’s a quarter wolf which means that she turns every other new moon rather than every full moon. She’s really good at gymnastics.


Who they like better: She works in Granny’s sometimes at the weekend (she’s the one who always sneaks Emma sugar filled treats to make her hyper before going out and leaving her parents with the consequences) so she gets along well with Ruby, they’re both similar temperaments and very rarely clash. She wasn’t used to having a dad so was awkward around David at first but she has him wrapped around her finger. She admires Snow’s personality and morals, she’s only admitted it out loud a few times but she’s her inspiration and she hopes to be like her.


Who they take after more: Ruby’s absolute double, just slightly more sarcastic, her family always joke that she’s secretly their biological daughter and in a few more teary moments she admitted that she wished that they really were her birth parents.


Personal Head canon:
 - She was 17 when she was officially adopted by her parents, she at first thought she was way too old to be adopted or to need parents but she quickly got used to being able to just being a teenager. - She and Zac were looked after by their grandmother in the Enchanted Forest and during the curse, she died a year after the curse broke, this is when the Charmings started fostering her and her brother, before they adopted them.- She’s very academic and has high aspirations to go to the nearby college to become a teacher like her mom.- When she was 17 she realised that she was in love with her best friend, like Love with a capital L, they eventually started to date and she realised that she’s a lesbian and that’s why none of her relationships with boyfriends felt right.- She’s very maternal and protective of all of her sibling, especially Zac and Emma.

Face Claim: Samantha Boscarino

Name: Zachary Stephen Charming (Zac)


Gender: Male


General Appearance: He tends to favour a t-shirt, jeans, and his football letterman jacket (pretty sure that’s what they’re called). The rest of the time he wears the leather jacket his parents got him for the first Christmas he was with them. He runs hot so used to wear shorts even in the snow until Cassie started saying “We get it, you’re straight” every time he did it so he stopped and dressed weather appropriately. He goes between having his brown hair fairly short and letting it grow a bit, he normally just swoops it to the side and it looks good. He has hazel eyes.


Personality: He’s really mellow and chill, he’s kind and fairly quiet in crowds of people he doesn’t know but it outgoing with his friends and family, he is a bit of a class clown. He’s kind hearted and tries to bond with his siblings in anyway they like best - letting Cassie style clothes on him or paint his portrait for art class, he plays with Emma and her toys without making her seem embarrassed over it, he lets Neal give rambling reviews on books to him and convincingly pretends he’s interested, and he helps Cole with his science experiments (which have been banned because they’ve made things explode 8 times). He’s protective of his friends and family, especially his younger siblings (Emma especially) Always wanting to please his parents despite them telling him that as long as he’s happy and safe then they’re happy.


Special Talents: He’s a quarter wolf which means that she turns every other new moon rather than every full moon. Very talented footballer and learnt how to sail from Eric. 


Who they like better: He tends to gravitate most to David, who teaches him loads of different things, they even fix up a car for Zac together.


Who they take after more: He’s very much like David personality wise, with Snow’s constant positive attitude, he looks as though he could be Ruby and David’s biological child.


Personal Head canon:
- He was the first one out of him and Cassie who could make Emma come out of her shell when they moved in there, when he was 15, he just started to play with her action figures until she joined in.- He’s an early bird, a trait which annoys half of his family to no end, and will often wake up with only Snow already awake, he takes the time to go for runs while the town is quiet.- He knows how to play the drums.-School’s a little bit harder for him than it is for his siblings, that being said he’s normally a B+ student as he’s not afraid to ask his mom for help with things he struggles with. - He’s pretty good at maths and physics and he claims it helps him with his football.

Face Claim: Froy Gutierrez

Name: Neal Robert Charming


Gender: Male


General Appearance: He wears comfy clothes, hoodies and t-shirts normally with skinny jeans or a sweatshirt, pretty much anything he can comfortably read in (he’s often found curled up with several books in the window seats around the house). He has dark brown hair and blue eyes, his hair is general a mop until he started to become more interested in boys and styled it more (he asks Cassie for advice on what to wear and how to do his hair as he’s nervous). 


Personality: He’s the quietest of the five kids, but that doesn’t mean that he’s necessarily shy, he just often gets caught in his head or caught in a book. Otherwise he’s funny and very intelligent, after getting up his confidence he eventually becomes very good at speaking in front of people after several speeches in school. He’s a natural leader when he speaks up about issues. He’s very mature and responsible for his age. He can be very sarcastic. 


Special Talents: He has magic, but he doesn’t bother to use it very often, he has a special affinity for water magic.


Who they like better: He’s a bit of a mommy’s boy, Snow seems to always have  a very calming presence so he tends to stick around her the most. 


Who they take after more: He’s very much like Snow but with David’s chill disposition. 


Personal Head canon:
 - He knew that he was gay from a very young age, by the time he was 6 he had announced that he would marry a prince not a princess (his sisters are both queer as are all his parents so no one batted an eyelid at him telling them that). - He can bake pretty well, his mama taught him, he often bakes cakes and brownies for the household. He and Ruby tend to catch up while baking. - He prefers healthy food like vegetables and fruit over things with sugar in them (he and Emma could not be more different)- His brother tried to teach him how to play football but he was terrible at it, he just watches games because he has a crush on one of the guys. He’s on the swim team and was very surprised to one day find his crush had started attending his swim meets. (he eventually has the courage to ask his crush out who turns out to have a crush on him too)  - He loves books, he has a million books and reads to Emma all the ones he thinks she’d like, when he leaves high school he goes to study Literature at Yale, he becomes an author like August and Henry. 

Face Claim: Logan Lerman 

Name: Cole Jacob Charming (CJ)


Gender: Male 


General Appearance: Whatever he throws on after finding it lying around on the floor of his room


Personality: He deeply values his privacy and hides a lot of things from his parents, like Neal he’s often in his own head and people in the town think he might become a villain but this is because he’s scheming or planning to build things to help people. He’s quite and kind at heart, he hides problems he has until he has no chance other than to reveal them like when his mom walked on him having an anxiety attack (before which he had hid them completely). He’s secretly very funny, a bit of a trickster, with a sardonic sense of humour. His sarcasm and sass could give anyone a run for their money.


Special Talents: He’s the only one of their biological children to have both magic and werewolf genes but he chooses not to use them most of the time, he says that he prefers science over magic, his mama gives him a bracelet 


Who they like better:


Who they take after more: He looks like his two mother but with his father’s blue eyes. He is fairly quick tempered in certain situations which he also gets from his father. 


Personal Head canon:
- He’s a genius, particularly in science, he’s always coming up with robots or mixing chemicals together or something in his room. - He and Emma are the troublemakers in the house, Cole often enlists Emma to help him pull pranks of people, despite constantly being told not to try and convince Emma to do so.-Only his family call him Cole, most people call him CJ or Cee, he doesn’t speak to anyone outside of his family who tries to call him Cole.- His middle name was his great grandfather’s name, when Ruby told Granny she cried, Granny claims that he gets his brains from her husband too.-He’s pansexual and has been dating someone for over a year without his family knowing, the first one to know was Emma as he introduced her to them, he eventually told his parents who were shocked but welcoming to his partner.- He and Emma were together when she was injured by George, she became deaf in one ear, Cole worked tirelessly and in secret to make a hearing aid which would work best for her giving her almost her old hearing range back, he used a little bit of magic for the first time in one of his inventions. 

Face Claim: Asa Butterfield

[ktrsss1fics]

I’ll Be Your Safety: Two.

The early morning sun beat on her skin as she headed back to her car with a warm coffee in her hand. She had spent a majority of the morning meeting with advisors and roaming around her campus trying to get a feel for everything. To say that Ronnie Michaels was excited for this next step in her life would be an understatement. As soon as she reached her car, she called her mother to gush about all the important details. A permanent smile was plastered to her face.

“I just can’t believe it Mom.” She said shaking her head. “I mean it’s real.”

“I know Sweetie. I mean you are actually doing it.” Her mother said.

“The campus is beautiful and everyone that I talked to today was really nice and helpful. I think I’m going to really like it here.” Ronnie said opening her door.

“That’s wonderful, Ron. Your father and I are happy for you.” Her mother said.

The young girl just sighed happily before getting in her car. “Thanks Mom.”

“So have you met anyone yet?” The older woman asked sounding hopeful.

“Yeah actually like two days ago, one of Aunt Ruth’s neighbors um helped me bring stuff up from my car.” Ronnie said as her smile grew. “He’s really nice.”

“Oh it’s a he, is it?” Her mother said teasing her slightly. “One of the boy band guys?”

“Yeah one of the boy band guys.” She said blushing softly. “I saw him on tv and it just clicked after that.”

“Does this boy have a name?” Mrs. Michaels asked as Ronnie shut her door.

“Niall.” Ronnie replied. “He’s Irish.”

“Uh oh.” Her mother said before laughing softly. “An Irish boy.”

“I know, I know.” Ronnie said shaking her head with a smile. “Just my luck.”

“You and an actual Irish boy, I can’t wait to hear about how this relationship unfolds.“ Her mother said. “You have to keep me posted.”

“Mom.” Ronnie sighed. “We’re just friends and that is how it’s going to stay.”

“You are going to have to get back out there some time, Veronica. Not every boy will break your heart. There are some good ones out there you know.” Mrs. Michael said with a sigh. “I just want to see you happy, Sweetie.”

“I am happy, Mom. I don’t need a boy right now.” Ronnie said trying to reassure her mother. “Besides, I’m sure I won’t have time for one with school starting again.”

“Well that is true. Are you nervous for it?” Her mom asked as she sipped her coffee.

“Kind of but more excited than nervous.” The tiny girl replied.

“I’m sure you will do fine, Sweetie.” Her mother replied trying to be as supportive as she could. It was an odd sensation for Ronnie. Her relationship with her parents wasn’t typical. There were times when they adored their only daughter but there were times when she was seen as the scum of the Earth. She didn’t know why this was but she learned to deal with it.

The line went quiet for a few seconds before her mom spoke.

“Veronica, I have some news for you.” Mrs. Michaels said as her tone went serious.

“What is it?” Ronnie asked nervously.

“Ryan and Jackie are getting married.” Her mother said softly.

The tiny girl’s stomach churned as her face fell. “What?”

“Yeah, I ran into his mom at the store this morning. Ryan proposed last night and Jackie said yes.” Her mom said. “Stupid son of a bitch.”

Veronica was silent. She didn’t know what to say.

“I know they both hurt you so much but those two deserve each other. I can’t believe after fifteen years of friendship that Jackie would go and betray you like that. I mean you were best friends since kindergarten and Ryan, I mean I thought you two were going to settle down and get married. He seemed perfect.” Her mother rambled on nervously.

“Nobody’s perfect, Mom.” Ronnie said softly before biting her lip.

“Are you okay, Sweetie? I’m sorry I had to tell you over the phone. I just didn’t want you to—“ Her mom started to say until she cut her off.

“I’m fine, Mom.” Ronnie said lying through her teeth. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Ronnie, I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Her mom offered sweetly.

“Don’t worry Mom, I know you are. I’m fine really.” She said.

“Alright Ron, I have to go pick up your brother. Are you sure you are going to be okay? I can stay and talk if you want.” Her mother asked one more time.

“Mother, I am fine. It doesn’t bother me. They deserve each other. I hope they live a happy life together.” Ronnie said frustrated. “But if I change my mind and want to talk about it, you’re the first person I’ll call. Okay?”

“Okay honey.” Mrs. Michaels said surprised by her daughter’s response. Aunt Ruth would have been the first person Ronnie went to for help. “It was nice talking to you.”

“You too. Tell Roger, I miss him.” Ronnie said sweetly. “I love you, Mom.”

“I will, Sweetie. He misses you.” Her mother said. “I love you too Veronica.”

After a long goodbye on her mother’s end, the phone call ended.

Her skin grew warm as she threw her phone in the passenger’s seat. The high she was on from her morning adventure was now completely ruined. She couldn’t believe it. Her ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend were getting married. Out of all the people in the world, they were going to be bound in holy matrimony. She had spent months trying to forget that they even existed. It was difficult but something that she needed to do.

Ronnie started her car and let out a frustrated groan. Just when she thought her day couldn’t get any better, her mother had to go and ruin it. Frustrated, the tiny girl decided she needed to stay out in the city. She knew if she went home at that moment, things would not end well. After driving past a group of teenage girls with bags in their hands, she knew exactly what she needed to do to make herself feel better.

After about two hours of retail therapy and a trip to get groceries, her small red car made its way back home. She slowly drove through the gate and watch it shut behind her. She turned the corner just as a dark skinned boy stepped into the street. He stopped and looked at her. Ronnie had to admit he was quite attractive. The boy casually waved her on but she just shook her head. She insisted that he go instead. A large smile formed on the young boy’s face as he stuck out his hand thanking her. She smiled kindly and headed to her parking spot after it was safe to go.

Ronnie got out of her car quietly as her phone repeatedly went off. Four text messages from friends back home came through at the same time. Each text message was the same. Each text message let her know that her ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend were getting married. Each text message made her want to vomit. She mumbled a few select curse words under her breath before sending out politically correct replies about the situation. Her mind started to focus on the situation. What did he see in her? Why was Jackie so much better than her? Granted, Jackie could be a model just based on looks alone. She was extremely tall, curvaceous, and had a pair of bright blue eyes. Her skin was always flawless and her long brown hair was the envy of every girl around.

Veronica Michaels just didn’t stack up. She was barely five-foot-six and extremely small. She looked a like a child compared to her curvaceous friend. Her long hair was a dull dirty blonde color and her eyes were a rich shade of green. However, for what she thought she lacked in appearance, she made up in personality. Her phone buzzed twice more pulling her out of her thoughts. Both texts were about the wonderful engagement—just what she needed. The tiny girl grasped her phone before kicking her back tire out of frustration.

“Ya know kicking tires isn’t good for you.” A very unique British accent said quietly.

She looked up to find the boy she had seen earlier. He was standing in front of her car, a cigarette pressed between his lips and a smug look on his face.

“You know smoking isn’t good for you either.” She replied with a smirk.

“I know I’m trying to quit.” He said softly as he removed it from his mouth.

“I went to art school, I know how it is.” She nodded. He just looked at her confused. She realized he wasn’t in on what she had meant.

“All my friends smoke.” She explained. “I know how difficult it is to try to quit.”

He nodded slowly before flashing her a gracious smile letting her know he understood. He took another hit of his cigarette while watching her closely. She opened the back door of her car and started grabbing bags to take inside with her.

“So what was that back there?” He asked referring to her little tantrum.

“Oh nothing.” She said with a sigh. “A little emotional breakdown.“

He nodded before exhaling slowly smoke filling the air around him.

She quickly flashed him a smile, “Nothing to worry about.”

Ronnie ducked back inside her car before grabbing some more bags.

“D’ya need any help with those?” The boy asked politely.

“Oh no I’m fine.” The tiny girl said shyly.

The tall boy took one more hit before killing his cigarette. He headed to the opposite side of her car and opened the door before grabbing the rest of her bags.

“My mum would be disappointed if I didn’t help.” He said sweetly. A tiny blush formed across her face as she grabbed her keys and locked her car.

“Well we wouldn’t want that.” She said softly as they headed towards the stairs.

The tall boy followed behind her quietly. He didn’t say anything at all. In fact they didn’t talk until they reached her front door. She thought it was nice—she was quiet too. After she unlocked the door, he followed her into the kitchen where the bags were dropped off.

“Thank you for the help.” She said trailing off at the end.

“Zayn.” He said sticking out his hand for her to shake.

“Ronnie.” She said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry to hear about Ruth.” Zayn said softly.

“Thanks.” The tiny blonde said with a small smile.

“She always made a point to talk to me whenever we saw each other.” He said sweetly.

“That’s Aunt Ruth for ya.” Ronnie said with a smile.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’d be happy to return the favor.” He offered.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of you.” She said softly putting the milk carton in the fridge.

“So what was really going on out there?” He asked raising an eyebrow. She just looked at him before a sigh escaped. He looked harmless.

“My ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend got engaged this morning. Everyone from back home has felt the need to inform me. I decided to do a little retail therapy to get my mind off of things. When I thought I escaped it, more texts came in about it.” She explained.

“Let me guess, they got together when you two were still dating.” He asked quietly.

Ronnie just nodded slowly. “Yeah um on the night of our three year anniversary. Instead of going out to dinner with me, he was going down on her.”

He let out a sigh before continuing. “Fuck that. They definitely deserve each other then and you deserve so much more than that—even if you don’t think you do.”

“How did you do that?” She asked extremely impressed.

The quiet boy just shrugged. “I’m good at reading people.”

“Well I’m impressed.” Ronnie said with a sincere smile.

“Good, you should be.” He said with a playful grin.

His phone started to ring softly. He excused himself to answer it. After a brief conversation, he walked back into the room with a slight sigh. “Sorry I have to go.”

“Oh no worries.” She smiled. “Thanks again for the help and uh listening, Zayn.”

“Anytime babe.” He said with a smile before heading towards the door to leave. “If you ever want to talk, I’m just a few doors down.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said with a smile.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Zayn said with a playful wink before leaving her apartment.

For the first time since that morning, a genuine smile formed. She then realized that her talk with this complete stranger was what she needed all along.