#we love sad pathetic specials ten here

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who are your top ten favorite black clover characters and ships (platonic or romantic) - talk about them

Oh boy this is going to be a long one, so Here we go.

The Characters

This is in no order, but these are my favourite. I have only watched up to episode 86.

Finral, this guy is a ride to watch. He is basically the little Brother friend of the Black Bulls and is clearly the only reason why they haven't died yet. His growth as character was a Great one to watch, both in combat as he managed to stall Langris for a bit, creating a New Spell, and even playing the key part of defeating Vetto with Vanessa and Asta. Everyone bullies him and his Rizz is pathetic and I love him.

Charmy is a character that honestly surprised me at how much I liked. I mean she is a gluton, but isn't afraid to share her food. She is easily the kindest of the Black Bulls, but is disrespful and I love her. I Like how her fights are the quickest in the show, with one or three punches and I love her Magic. I love how she wanted to eat Bell all for Yuno. I also think her crush on Yuno is adorable to me.

Luck is so fun to watch. Easily the most fun. His story is quite tragic and the way he was abused and looked down on everyone was sad to watch along. I like his character trait of his constant smile, and when he isn't smiling, you know she is about to get real. Also, his relationship with Magna as besties is so Damn Nice to watch.

Noelle is basically what you want to write with a female character, no joke. Strong? Yes. Important to the story? Yes. Growth both as a character and in power? Yes. Personality? Yes. She is a top tier female character.

Sekke mainly because how much he gets bullied by Jack, Yami and the rest of the cast.

Klaus mainly because he went from "Listen Here Yuno, just because you have a 4 leaf clover and was chosen my Vangence, doesn't mean I Will treat you the same way and you will Listen to me, no matter what." To "Yuno, did you brush your teeth today? Your hair doesn't look as clean as before. Have you eaten anything lately?". Mom friend.

Magna has been a fun character for sure, and the Fact Here has so much growth and trust in his friends. His friendship with Luck is Great, and I think he gets bullied as much as Finral.

Asta is the best New gen Protag and it isn't even close. This man embodies the idea of never giving up. No matter where he is, no matter how much he is down, he Will never give up as his Magic is never giving up. His weakness is his Greatest strength. He isn't special, but that's what makes him special. His fights are so interesting at how he uses his main Weapon and I love his rivalry with Yuno.

Yami is a retired Shonen protag. I mean think about it. He is from a different country, treated as an outsider, he has a rival with a goal in mind, has the Will to get stronger, his mentor becames a leader of a country and he has an unique skill of ki. Not to mention he is disrespect incarnate, disrespecting everyone left and right while he is on the floor.

Yuno is my favourite rival in all of anime. Sasuke is my favourite rival character, but as a rival Yuno is the best at it. He mirrors Asta in every way. He never discourages in Asta, hr has complete trust in his best friend. He looks Like an arrogant prick, but is just some shy, introverted boy who loves competition.

The Ships

For this, I have more platonic than romantic.

Asta x Yuno (platonic) - The best friendship and rivalry in all anime. Grew up as brothers and never gave up on each other and they truly care about each other.

Yami x Julius (platonic) - I Like it because od Yami's loyality to his mentor and friend, the trust between each other and that Julius was the first person to accept him.

Magna x Luck (platonic) - Basically, one who loves prankijg the other and the one that gets prankes, but they truly and deeply care about each other. Also the Fact that Magna was Luck's first friend is cute to me.

Mars x Fana (romantic) - Come on, how can I not? Mars was going to Fana's hot flames, burning up outside and inside, hugging her which was strong enough to break her out of it as they stated at each other for a long time with massive smiles on their faces.

Klaus x Asta/Yuno (platonic) - all because I love the idea of him Being the biggest mom friend to them

Vanessa x Finral (platonic/romantic) - can't really choose. I Like how both of them are so close to each other, and I Like that their main Arcs also feature the other.

Asta x Noelle (romantic) - A good hetero ship that doesn't make the female character the Protag's future baby mama, but instead encourages her to be stronger than ever and go beyond her past and limit? Sign me up!

Yami x Charlotte (romantic) - basically a girlboss feminist that could wreck anyone's shit in love with the closest looking homeless man on the planet. You love to see it.

Yuno x Charmy (romantic) - I just find it extremely cute at how flustered Charmy is around Yuno, how she would fight Bell for Yuno, gives him treats, and that Yuno doesn't think anything badly about Charmy, and how they net was adorable.

[its-all-ineffable]

This looks fun, here we go! Thanks for the tag @fandomsmeantheworldtome!

My top ten characters of 2023 (2023 Character Wrap)

Alex Claremont-Diaz, Red, White & Royal Blue: Listen, who couldn't love Alex? Both book and movie him are treasures but I'm mainly focusing on movie Alex. Like...who said he was allowed to be that pretty?! He's so aesthetically pleasing it's almost annoying. I love him very much.

Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor(Hanover-Stuart-Fox), Red, White & Royal Blue: You can't have one without the other! Henry is just so precious to me, book and movie Henry both. But movie Henry's pathetic wet cat energy has capitivated me. What can I say, I love big sad eyes. He's babygirl.

Nick Nelson, Heartstopper: Listen...listen. I love 'em all. I do! The main group of this show are all my children, and I adore them. Charlie and Tara a lil' bit more. But Nick has a special place in my heart that I can't explain. I love him so much.

Jesper Fahey, Shadow & Bone/Six of Crows: I only got into the show and books this year (yes I'm devastated it's gone), but they're both soooo good! And Jesper is just the best, like, he's so funny and complex and badass. I love him very much.

Wylan Hendriks, Shadow & Bone/Six of Crows: They're cutie pies, book and show Wylan. They're also dangerous badasses and sassy to boot. I love them both, but I fell in love with show Wylan first and honestly, I'll never look back. How can I.

15th Doctor, Doctor Who: So far we have had about 20 minutes of the 15th Doctor, and I am already in love with them. IN LOVE. I just...I am so ready for their series, and I can't WAIT for the Christmas special!

Muriel, Good Omens: How could anyone hate this bean?! Honestly a fantastic addition to the cast of characters in this show, and definitely a breakout star to me! I hope Muriel returns for season 3 because they truly were a delight, anytime they were on screen.

Jaskier, The Witcher: In it's last season (to me), The Witcher finally decided to give Jaskier the respect he deserves. As always, his songs were fantastic and his character being in it prompted me to watch spin-off Blood Origin (which I loved!). Jaskier has been my character since I began watching The Witcher, and he remains my character.

Eddie Kaspbrak, IT franchise: Fell deep back into my IT hyperfixation and actaully managed to write loads of my fix-it fic I started back in 2019. Both young Eddie from 2017 IT and adult Eddie from the 1990 movie are my babies, I adore them both. Eddie Kaspbrak is just such a fun and interesting character, especially to write!

Inej Ghafa, Shadow & Bone/Six of Crows: Yes I know, the 3rd character from this show/book series. But I can't help it, I only discovered it this year! Inej is a wonderfully complex, tragic yet strong character, and I wish the show had time to explore her and her story more. She's fabulous, and brought to life so wonderfully by Amita Suman.

Tagging (no pressure): @peacockfeatherbookmarks @mxliv-oftheendless @lunarmultishine @lonelygodsmuse @sunshinereddie @fanboy-sloth @sparklespirit @gobblegang @every-aj-needs-an-angel @hcarshipper @theredrenard @xstick-noodlesx @virginiaisforvampires @thefairylights and anyone else who wants too!

[doderyscoffee]

safe & sound (pt. ii) | z.cl

after the second rebellion, an unsuccessful attempt to overthrow panem’s government, the districts are once again subject to the notorious hunger games. except, this time, the games have been given a little twist. now faced with the possibility of having two victors from the same district return home, two district 7 tributes are forced to overcome their life-long rivalry to make it out in one piece.

PAIRING: tribute!zhong chenle x tribute!fem!reader (oc)

CHARACTER(S): ft. nct and red velvet members

GENRE&AU(S): angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, love triangle(ish), forced proximity, hunger games!au, tribute!au, dystopian!au

WARNINGS: language, major(ish) and minor character death, death, murder (descriptive), gore, blood, chemical burns, mentions of suicide/ideation, death threats, hunting, ticks, trypophobia, drinking, beginnings of alcoholism, hallucinations, mentions of cannibalism (non-descriptive), mentions of raw skin, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being cut, mentions/implications of ptsd and depression, bittersweet ending, Y/N and Chenle are both 16, Sungchan is 17, Y/N and Chenle both kill,Y/N has a scar on her leg, Y/N sees dead people, inaccurate portrayal of learning how to throw a knife, inaccurate portrayal of preparing medicine, some inaccuracies for sake of plot, please tread lightly if any of these topics are triggering to you and let me know if i missed anything!

LENGTH: 21.2k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE:      here is the second part of my fic for @neo-shitty‘s game of survival collab! i am both happy and sad to have finished this fic and it holds a special place in my heart. although i do feel like it is a little rushed in some places, i do love it! please remember that the hunger games is gory and devastating with themes of murder and death. this fic is no different.so if this is not your scene or something you might be upset by, don’t read it. this is your warning and you know what you can handle. as always, please let me know if you enjoyed this! feedback is always appreciated. and may the odds be ever in your favor. (p.s. i made a playlist for this, so enjoy the heartbreak x2)

TAG LIST:      @neo-shitty @neowritingsnet @quokkacore @jenlvr01 @fullsunicfics @winsmoke @kiiaraplay @fourleighter @4-eternity @chokowako @hotdogct @cappujeno @fixxxxxxxcs @haepii @stardust150-0 @daegalzhong @aquamxrina @malineoo​ 

Someone shook me awake when the morning light seeped into the hollow. I blinked once, twice, three times until the blur of black, brown, and green came into focus, and I nearly jumped when I saw who crouched in front of me.

Chenle watched me with a hint of an amused smile, one hand on my arm and my water bottle in the other. I pushed his hand away and took the bottle.

He looked ten-times better than when I had found him. The color had returned to his cheeks, his brow was void of sweat, his breaths no longer heavy. My theory was right: the suma root was enhanced enough to get him walking overnight. I laughed.

“What?”

I placed the bottle between my legs. “You’re healed.”

He nodded and reached inside of my pack, rummaging through it as if it were his own. He pulled out a few strips of dried beef and the bag of nuts, dividing them equally between us. Did the suma root have some type of nice drug in it, too?

I nibbled on a strip of beef. It was rock-hard and seemed to have become saltier since I had last eaten it. By the face Chenle made, I knew that it wasn’t just me who was disgusted by it.

“Did you dip these in the sea?” he asked, reaching for the water to cleanse his tongue.

I grabbed the bottle from him as soon as he stopped drinking. “Do you see a sea around here?”

He ignored my comment, holding his hand out for the water once I was finished with it. We did this for the rest of our pathetic excuse of a breakfast. Take a bite of dried beef. Drink. Hand over the water. Repeat.

I stuffed the handful of nuts in my mouth and washed it down with one last gulp. Chenle did the same, tapping the bottle’s bottom until the last drop fell on his tongue. “We need to get more water,” he said.

“We won’t be able to drink it until tomorrow morning.”

“Why not?” He put the bottle back in the pack.

“We have to purify it first. I have a bottle of iodine, but it takes a while to work.”

He nodded and closed the pack. “We should look for the quest.”

“We also need to find your pack.” I slipped the bag’s straps over my shoulders. “Do you have any idea where you left it?”

“No, I was a little too sick for that.”

Despite myself, I laughed and I thought I saw Chenle’s lips quirk up just the slightest bit.

“We should find a way to mark the tree,” he said once my laughter died down.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “How? We can’t chop a line into it. That’s too obvious.”

Chenle ducked under the hollow’s entrance. He disappeared behind the leaf and I heard his footsteps in the mud, the rustle of leaves and the creak of branches as he moved them. He came back a few minutes later, after I had finished cleaning our hollow until it appeared untouched, with a rather large stick and a handful of ripped leaves in his hands.

“I don’t think we need a fire right now,” I said.

“It’s not for a fire.” He bent his legs the tiniest bit and jumped, shoving the stick and leaves in what I assumed was a small hollow. “How dumb are you?”

“Dumb enough to find you,” I said under my breath. I remembered his words from last night and how much they must’ve struck his pride.

I’m thankful.

Not thankful enough, I thought. If he was, he wouldn’t be talking to me like I was a little girl who had yet to attend her first day of school.

Chenle rubbed his hands together, ridding his palms of dirt, and stepped inside. “Where did you find your last quest?”

“You didn’t get an envelope?”

“No.”

“I found it in a hollow of the tree I slept in,” I said, brushing his shoulder as I passed. I pushed back the leaf and looked up, basking my face in the patch of sunlight a few feet away from the entrance. “Well, get a move on, Zhong! We don’t have all day.”

He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t make out and joined me outside. We split up, looking on the ground, pushing leaves out of our way, climbing up trees to get a better look, but it was to no avail.

“Did they post it in the sky?” Chenle asked, coming to stand under the base of the tree I had climbed. His voice barely reached me and I pushed another leaf out of my way, reaching up to pull myself higher.

“No!”

“So why are you climbing so goddamn high?”

“To get a better look!”

I pushed the last leaf that separated me from the open sky out of the way, sucking in a deep breath of crisp air. I looked over the trees, at the rich green sea that went as far as the eye could see and then some. Even though I already knew how big the arena was, my stomach still filled with dread. The other fourteen tributes were out there somewhere. Maybe there were some near the cornucopia, hoping to come get supplies now that the bloodbath was over and the Careers were wandering around the jungle, cutting down leaves and tributes alike.

I climbed down slower than I had climbed up. It was harder going down, not as safe. Your feet could go anywhere. Branches could break and plummet without warning. Your fingers could give out. Your weight could become too much. Every danger invaded my mind. I wasn’t scared of heights—how could I be?—but right now, so far off the ground that I couldn’t see the mud below, I wished Pa was here with a safety rope and a warm hug.

“Hey!” Chenle’s voice was no louder than a whisper, but I knew that he was screaming at the top of his lungs. “Get down here!”

I lowered myself a little more, digging my fingers into the bark. I looked down, placing my foot on the next branch and moved my hand to rest next to the other. There was a loud creak. Gravity pulled me down. My feet dangled in the air and my fingers slipped. And even though I told myself not to, I screamed.

I wrapped my arms around the branch, trying to pull myself up, but it was to no avail. It was as if everything was in slow-motion. The bark split and the branch dipped, starting at the base and then, I was falling.

“Chenle!” I screamed even though it wouldn’t do me any good. What was he going to do? Catch me and this giant branch?

“What?” His voice was still distant. I was too far from the ground to survive the fall.

My back hit a branch, not at all softened by my backpack, and my body curved like an arch. I cried out.

“Y/N?” I heard him call. Was that concern in his voice?

I rolled over on my stomach, tears streaming down my face, and wrapped myself around the branch.

“Y/N!”

I didn’t answer, inching myself to the side. If I dropped again, I would die, and I knew then that those branches didn’t just fall because they were weak. They dropped because the Gamemakers told them to.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming and pushed myself up to sit. I wrapped my arms around the trunk and began to climb down at a sloth’s pace. When my feet hit the ground, I fell to my knees. Chenle stared at me when I collapsed, resting my forehead on my arms.

“What are you doing?”

“The branch—” I choked out. Even speaking hurt. “I fell.”

“What are you talking about?”

I looked up at him through my tears and it felt as if my back split in half at the movement. “The branch snapped.”

“The branch didn’t snap.”

“What?”

“Are you going to make me repeat myself?”

“The branch didn’t snap?”

“No.”

I looked around, careful not to move my neck too much. There were no branches on the ground. There were no branches on the ground.

“I fell,” I said again.

“Is that why you screamed?” Chenle laughed. “You fell?”

“I fell.”

“There are no branches, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“So how did you fall?”

“I don’t know.”

Chenle crouched in front of me and pressed down on my back, covering my mouth with his hand to muffle my scream. But no scream came. Wait—I didn’t scream?

“There was probably some hallucinogenic in the air,” he said. “You’re fine. Get up.”

I rose to my feet, still looking around in case I found something, anything, that proved that I wasn’t crazy. The branch had snapped. I knew that for a fact. But did I?

“I found the quest,” Chenle said.

“Where?”

“In the hollow.”

“I want to do the honors.”

He handed me the envelope and I slipped my thumb under the seal. There was a piece of paper neatly tucked inside and I carefully pulled it out.

Chenle’s eyes never left my fingers, and when I brought it up to my face, he crossed his arms. I cleared my throat. “District 7 has lost a valuable ally,” I read aloud. “Find the other and send her home. Chosen by the Capitol.” I handed the paper to him with a scoff. “What sick joke is this?”

“It’s the Capitol,” he said nonchalantly. “Everything they do is a sick joke.”

“They’re shoving Sungchan’s death in my face.”

“They want us to kill your friend.” He folded the piece of paper and looked me in the eye. “So we’re killing your friend.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’m glad she’s not dead,” Sungchan had told me on our first night in the jungle, secured in our tree, tightly tucked in my sleeping bag. “I know that I’m not exactly allied with her, but she’s from home.” And now, I would be sending her home with him.

Chenle’s voice pulled me back to reality. “Let’s go.”

I followed him into the jungle, looking back at our hollow. I told myself that we would be back, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.

Chenle swatted a leaf out of his way and I ducked before it could hit me. “Would it kill you to hold the leaf for a second longer?”

“Yes,” he said without looking back at me.

“Nice to know you’re still an asshole even after I saved your life.” I made a point to enunciate the last part.

He gave no response, but his hand lingered on the next leaf a little longer. I fell into step beside him and we ventured on foot for a while. For this, I was thankful. I didn’t want to admit that I was a little scared to climb again, but it seemed like Chenle understood and was doing me a favor. But, eventually, we would have to travel through the trees. It was safer the closer we were to the sky.

Chenle slipped his fingers in a tree’s crevice and hoisted himself up. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye as I did the same on a neighboring tree. It was as if we were in sync, reaching even branches at the same time.

I led the way, jumping from branch to branch with more nerve than I had an hour ago, but Chenle was never too far behind. And to my horror, I found myself at ease knowing he was there.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked over my shoulder.

“No.” He landed on the branch next to mine. “Do I look like I have a tribute map?”

“Do I look like I have a tribute map?” I repeated mockingly, raising my voice an octave.

He glared at me and I was thankful that his eyes weren’t daggers. “She’s District 4,” he said. “Where would a tribute from District 4 be?”

“This isn’t the time for a pop quiz.” I leaned against a trunk and crossed my arms. “She’ll be near water if she knows where to find it. Sungchan and I found a swamp on the first day and I found a swamp yesterday when I was looking for you. So there are two swamps that we know of, unless you happen to know about another one.”

“You sounded smart for once. I’m impressed.”

“Do you know of another swamp or not?”

“Not a swamp, but I know of a few streams.”

“We can’t visit every water source, so we have to choose which ones she’s more likely to be.”

“Swamps have fish,” said Chenle. “She’s probably looking for breakfast.”

I nodded. “Swamps it is. There’s one straight south. That’s where I got your medicine.”

Chenle waited for me to jump to the next branch before he did and we fell into a steady rhythm, moving much faster than I had alone. Maybe it was because I had gotten a good night’s sleep—or as much of a good night’s sleep as one could get while crying until they couldn’t breathe—or because there was someone else to help bear the weight of my actions. Whatever it was, I was grateful for it.

I paused when I saw the familiar sparkle of sunlight on water. I scanned the ground below, looking for footprints or traces of human presence. There was a crushed leaf next to the roots of a tree with the imprint of a sole, but it looked to be old and the mud around it was dry, so I moved on.

“Wait.” Chenle reached out to stop me. Once his hand touched my shoulder, he pulled it back as if I was poisonous and wiped his palm on his pants. “Over there.” He pointed with his chin towards the water and I realized we had found the swamp where I had found Chenle’s cure, but dread filled my stomach when I saw who else was wading in its depths.

He motioned with his chin for us to split up and circle her from both sides, but I didn’t move when he jumped to another branch. He looked at me over his shoulder and I shook my head. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill her.

Chenle landed on the branch next to me. “I’ll kill her,” he said.

“What?”

“You can’t do it. You’re too weak for that and we’ll die because of it. I’ll kill her.”

“I’m not weak,” I said through gritted teeth.

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Then kill her.”

I sucked in a shaky breath. “I can’t.” My voice was nearly inaudible

“That’s what I thought.” He straightened himself with a smug tilt on his lips. I wanted to smack it off. “You go over there and watch my back,” he said. “We’ll get in and get out.”

“Do you have a weapon?” I asked. “A knife? An ax? An arrow?”

“Give me your ax.”

“What? No!” I stepped away from his reach.

“Y/N, give it to me.” His voice was low, angry, and I didn’t know whether to be amused or scared. “We’ll lose her if you waste any more time. Do you want to die?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“So give me your ax.”

“I need to defend myself, too. It’s not my fault you lost your pack.”

“This isn’t the time to argue.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Give me the ax, Y/N.”

“Be quick.” I turned around and he took the ax from the pack, leaving without another word.

I reached my post before Chenle did, but for someone with an ax in his hand, he moved rather quickly. It dawned on me then that I didn’t know how he scored a ten. Only the Gamemakers did. Could he get her in one hit? How accurate was his aim? He only had one chance.

“Forgive me, Sungchan,” I whispered as Chenle raised the ax over his head. I watched his shoulders rise, his chest expand, and when he exhaled, he let go.

I would never forget the wet sound of my ax burying itself in her back or get her scream out of my ears. I would never forget the sight of her body falling face first in the water, floating in the ripples she made.

Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. The words repeated themselves over and over in my head and a tear slid down my cheek. We had killed her. I had betrayed Sungchan and killed her. And there was little consolation that it wasn’t me who had thrown the ax.

A leaf in Chenle’s direction rustled and water dripped off, creating a waterfall as it trickled from one leaf to the next. He was leaving his post. I watched him drop to the ground, running over to the swamp and our victim.

I carefully climbed down, jumping when there was only a few feet between me and the ground, and joined Chenle at the swamp. He waded out to her, grabbed her by the arm with one hand, picked up my ax with the other, and dragged her towards the shore. It was a slightly funny sight and I let out a small laugh before realizing that Sungchan was probably frowning at me from above.

“That was a good throw,” I said when he dropped her in front of me, her upper body on land and her legs still in the water.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t let out so much as a hum as he crouched in front of her and ripped the pack off her shoulders.

“Could you be any rougher?”

“It’s not like she’s going to feel it.” He motioned for me to give him my pack and I slipped it off. “She’s dead.”

“She was still Sungchan’s part—”

“Sungchan isn’t here anymore,” Chenle said coldly. “So stop talking about him.”

I stared at him and bit the inside of my cheek. Did Chenle not know what it was to mourn? Had he ever lost a loved one? A friend? But he didn’t have any friends and despite all the attempts my friend group made to include him, he rejected us without hesitation.

“I hope your mother dies,” I said before I could stop myself.

Chenle’s head snapped in my direction and he got to his feet, grabbing me by the collar. “Talk about my mother again and your head will be hanging over the hollow.”

He dropped me and I rubbed my neck. I deserved that. I would’ve done the same to him.

Chenle finished transferring everything in the District 4 girl’s pack—a flashlight, a bag of nuts and berries, a box of matches, a bottle of iodine, a coil of rope, six throwing knives, and a scalpel chain—to ours and handed it back to me. He kept the ax. “Let’s go,” he said.

There was a footstep somewhere and the zing of an arrow leaving a string. I screamed.

Chenle stared at me as if I were crazy. “What the hell are you do—” His eyes drifted to the arrow buried in the back of my left leg. He quickly scanned the area before spotting a flash of green that didn’t match the green of the leaves and raised the ax over his head, throwing it just like he had at the District 4 girl. I dropped to my knees, biting my lip to keep from crying out, but it was no use. I hadn’t felt pain like this since I was ten, when Pa accidentally cut my leg with an ax.

There was a dull thump and the boy’s body came crashing through the leaves. There was a white “10” on his sleeve and a bow in his hand. It was the same bow that the District 2 girl had tried to shoot me with. This boy was smart enough to steal a bow from a Career tribute, but too dumb to realize that shooting me, a girl partnered with the killer known as Zhong Chenle, would be his end.

Chenle didn’t ask if I was okay. Instead, he approached the body and rummaged through the boy’s pockets, finding a pair of night vision glasses and a compass. Then, he stood and crouched down next to me, putting the goods in my pack, before shoving his hands under my arms.

“I don’t need another injury,” I said, hissing at the movement.

“Be thankful I’m saving you at all,” he said, his voice strained.

“You owe me, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

With me in his arms, there was no way we could travel through the trees. We were stuck on foot and I could tell by his rigid posture that he didn’t like that at all.

Chenle handed me the ax and told me to watch his back. He carried me bridal style, and if it hurt him, he didn’t show it. I rested my cheek on his shoulder and watched the trees and dirt behind us. Nobody and nothing was there.

“Your tears are staining my jacket,” he said, shifting me around a bit and I hissed in pain.

“You try getting shot in the leg.”

“It’s not on my to-do list.”

I wasn’t sure how long we walked for, but I preoccupied myself with smacking all the mosquitos that tried to land on Chenle’s neck and head. At first, he pinched my arm in return before he realized I was helping him. He had been quiet ever since.

He kicked leaves out of the way with his feet and skillfully dodged large roots as if it were a game of hopscotch. We reached the hollow around mid-afternoon and Chenle cursed when he remembered that we forgot to refill our water bottle in the midst of the District 10 boy and his brilliant idea.

“You can go back,” I said, adjusting myself in the hollow where Chenle had put me down. “We finished the quest. We’re safe in that aspect.”

“You’ll die of infection,” he said, digging through the pack for the leftover suma root.

“Aw, you care.” I placed a hand over my heart and he looked like he was going to slap me until my teeth flew out of my mouth.

“You’re useless if you have an arrow in your leg.” He found the root wrapped in a piece of cloth hidden in the sleeping bag. “Give me your hand.”

He put the root in my hand and I popped it in my mouth. Chenle took the sleeping bag and bunched it up. Then, he picked up my leg, pausing when I sucked in a sharp breath. He didn’t spare me a look or a word of reassurance as he gently rested it on the bag, turning it the slightest bit, and dug through my backpack. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he stood. “Stay here,” he said and left the hollow.

I rested my head against the bark, closing my eyes, and focused on breathing. When I opened my eyes again, the rays of sunlight had turned to a rich gold that was beginning to fade to a deep orange and the arrow had been removed from my leg. There was a vine wrapped tightly around my thigh and I realized that I had no feeling below it.

I could barely see in the hollow, but there was no outline of Chenle or anything else. I turned to watch the leaf that acted as a makeshift door and the dimming color of the forest, which didn’t have much light to begin with.

Footsteps approached and Chenle pushed the leaf open. He held my water bottle in one hand and a knife with an impaled fish in the other. The sight reminded me of the first breakfast I had in the arena, a breakfast I had with Sungchan. I shook my head.

“You’re awake,” Chenle said, crouching next to the pack and putting the water bottle next to it. “You can be of use.”

“Thank you.” I pointed to the makeshift tourniquet with my chin. “How did you learn how to do that?”

“Training. And I owe you, like you said.” He handed me the knife to hold as he dug around in the pack for matches. “Now, we’re even.”

When he found them, he busied himself trying to make a fire with the wood he had stashed in the corner earlier this morning. The flame crackled to life and I handed him the knife. As he rotated the fish over the fire, I kept watch and squeezed five drops of iodine in the water like Sungchan had taught me. I screwed the lid on tight before violently shaking, deeming it mixed enough when my arm began to ache, and put the bottle in the pack.

“Five drops and a shake?” Chenle asked, his eyes still trained on the fish.

“Yeah.”

He nodded and we fell into another silence. He took another knife from his pocket and cut the scales off the fish just like Sungchan had. How much had Chenle learned during those three days of training?

He came to sit beside me and we split the fish evenly, and when the only thing left was its bones, he threw them in the fire. “Sleep,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“You need to sleep for the root to take full effect. I’ll take first watch.”

So I closed my eyes and let fatigue pull me under.

Chenle let me sleep in. He had gone long before I opened my eyes and part of me wondered if he had left me for dead, or maybe for tribute bait. I was unable to move after all, let alone shift around without wincing.

My leg looked no better than it had last night and although Chenle had done his best to stop the blood flow, there was still a steady trickle of red oozing out of the open wound. Johnny had said that infection was as deadly as a blade. Who knew what dirt could do if I put my leg in it a little too long.

My tongue was dry and it hurt to swallow. I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up the slightest bit. The light in the hollow was dim, but I could see just fine. The fire had died long ago. Chenle had probably stomped it out before he left. I glanced around to take inventory of what I had left and, to my horror, my pack was gone.

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep calm. Chenle had taken everything and left me with a useless, colorless leg. My water was gone. My food was gone. My ax was gone. At least he hadn’t been cruel enough to steal my sleeping bag.

Leaves rustled outside. Branches creaked. Footsteps squelched in the mud. I held my hand over my mouth, squeezed my eyes shut, and prayed. Then, someone spoke.

“What are you doing?”

Chenle. I almost cried in relief.

“You left me,” I said.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” He slipped the pack off his shoulders and I saw the silver parachute in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“What do you think?” He crouched in front of me and placed the silver basket-looking thing on the ground between us. Hidden in the silk of the parachute was a white envelope with a black “7” printed on it with the Capitol seal. I reached for it but he smacked my hand away. “I’ll open it. You can’t help me anyway.”

“No need to be a dick about it. I’m just as upset as you. Maybe even more.”

He handed me the envelope. “How’s your leg?”

“I don’t think the suma root did anything.”

“Is the tourniquet too tight?”

“I can’t feel it,” I said. “I can’t feel past my waist on that side.”

Chenle placed his hand on my leg, the color of his skin a scary comparison to the near blue hue of mine. “I’m going to touch it.”

“You’re going to stick your finger in there?” I didn’t like how scared my voice sounded.

“No. I’m checking how much you can feel.”

“I just said I can’t feel any—” I cried out when he squeezed.

“Can’t feel anything, can you?” There was a smug expression on his face and I couldn’t help but laugh. His lips quirked the slightest bit, as if he was holding himself back.

“What’s in the parachute?” I asked, pointing to it with my chin.

“How would I know?” His hands moved up my leg, settling just under my knee. “I didn’t open it.”

I reached for it and placed it on my lap, hissing when Chenle squeezed, and when he moved up to my thigh, I cracked the parachute open down the middle.

“It’s a container,” I said and handed it to him. He unscrewed the lid and tilted it towards the light. Inside was a slimy, puke-colored thing. Was that some kind of weird soup? Why the hell would Yuta send us that?

“A container with medicine,” Chenle said and I sighed in relief, resting my head back. He could stop squeezing what little blood I had left out of my leg.

“Who died last night?” I asked.

Chenle stuck his fingers in the salve and gently massaged it into the wound and the skin around it. “Girl from 4, but we already knew that. I killed her. Boy from 8 and the boy from 10, but we knew that, too. I killed him.”

“There’s eleven of us left,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him, but he nodded anyway.

He gathered more salve on his fingers. “Open the quest.” 

I slipped my thumb under the seal and broke it. “Read it,” he said. I seriously wondered who gave him the authority to boss me around, but I did as he said anyway.

“District 7 should beware of creatures that lurk in the dark. If not, you will lose the one you love most.” The one you love most? That had to be a mistake. I continued with a frown, “Chosen by the Capitol.”

Chenle didn’t say anything when he finished applying the salve. He screwed the lid back on the container and dropped it in the pack. “Is there anything else in the parachute?” he asked as if there was nothing wrong with the words on the quest.

I placed the envelope on the ground and reached inside the parachute, wiggling my fingers along the side and bottom. There was something soft, paper-like, tucked in the edges and I picked it up. Printed on the note were the words “Jaguar. Play along. -Y”

I handed the note to Chenle and he looked as if he wanted to leave the arena, storm up to the Capitol, and slap Yuta where he stood. But he took a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll find this thing and you stay here.”

“It’s not like I can go anywhere.” I took the note back and dropped it in the parachute with the quest.

“You keep the water bottle and the ax.” Chenle sifted through the backpack, pulling out the bag of berries, the water bottle, and my ax. He placed them on the ground next to me. “You can keep one of the match boxes, too. Just don’t be stupid about it.” He slipped two knives in his jacket pockets and zipped up the pack, shrugging the straps over his shoulders and pushing himself to his feet. He was halfway through the hollow when he looked over his shoulder. “Try to get some rest.” He was gone before I could speak.

When his footsteps had completely receded, I opened the bag of berries and slowly snacked on them. Despite the fact that they had been briefly soaked in swamp water the day before, they still had the sweetness of normal, dry berries.

My stomach grumbled, begging for me to eat until there was nothing left, but I knew that wasn’t a luxury I had. There was always a chance that Chenle wouldn’t come back. The jaguar took Sungchan. It could very well take Chenle from me, too.

I unscrewed the water bottle’s lid, shifting onto my hip to hold the water under the few streams of sunlight the leaf let in. From what I could see, the water wasn’t murky, so I slumped back against the hollow and took a few sips. Then, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to focus on the tingle that was barely there, the tightness of the vine around my thigh.

The one you love most. The words stuck in my head like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. Did the Capitol know something I didn’t? Did Yuta somehow convince everyone that Chenle had a secret crush on me? I laughed at the idea. The Capitol was probably trying to push a love story, just like Sungchan had said.

I tried to pull my right leg up to my chest, wincing when it moved my other leg the slightest bit and gently let it go. The District 10 boy had been smart in choosing his target although he probably had been aiming higher, somewhere more deadly. Smart, smart boy. But not smart enough.

I quickly grew bored. The hollow looked the same no matter how many times I squinted my eyes, trying to look for something different. My butt was numb from sitting on it for so long. My hands were bored from lack of things to fiddle with. Even my mouth felt lonely from the little food Chenle had given me. The only thing I could think of was to sleep, which was bad for two reasons: One, I had slept through the night. Two, I had no way to defend myself. So, my only option was to sit here and blankly stare at the other side of the hollow.

I drew shapes in the mud—circles, squares, triangles, and out of pure boredom, a heart. But I quickly grew bored of that, too. If only I had a book, a deck of cards, a child’s old, ragged toy. Anything. I was too desperate to care.

A twig snapped outside and I grabbed my ax. I held my breath and watched the space under the leaf. Gold and black spotted paws blocked the little light that streamed through the leaves. Had Chenle failed? Could I take a good swing and possibly chop its head off? Could I save myself? Or was this my end? But, to my relief, whatever creature it was—a jaguar, I assumed—passed without pause and I was once again left with nothing but the noises of the jungle.

My shoulders relaxed and I slid myself down a little, biting my lip to keep from crying out. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to try and help the pain subside. I took a few sips of water and poured a few drops in my hands to wash my face. Then, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Gold light shone through my eyelids and I blinked myself awake. It had to be early evening and Chenle had yet to return. I was still alive, though, and that was enough reason to be relieved.

I rolled myself inch by inch towards the charred wood that we had burned last night. Why had Chenle put his firewood stash on the other side of the hollow? He couldn’t have moved it near me before he left?

It took me an embarrassingly long time to set up five pieces of wood in a triangular shape. I lit a match, threw it through the open space, and watched it spark to life. I realized then, after I had gone through all the trouble to start a fire, that I had no way to put it out. 

“Just don’t be stupid about it,” Chenle had said and I had gone along and been stupid about it.

If this was to be my end, at least I would be warm and with the familiarity that came from the wood and fire and smoke distinct to my district. At least I would die with that.

I watched the flames dance like lovers, swirling around each other, wrapping themselves in each other’s warmth. Ma had told me once that fires told stories. “It can be heartbreak or it can be a spark,” she’d said as we sat by the fire one night. Which story was this? Was it even a story? I was unsure if I wanted to know.

I sat there until the sky darkened. Chenle still hadn't returned. Worry started to creep in and plant itself in my brain. I needed him to survive, especially now. I didn’t want to admit that part of me desperately wanted him to return for another reason. Was that the fire’s tale? Unrequited love? A suppressed crush? I shook my head. It was just a District 7 wives’ tale.

Something stumbled around outside and my eyes immediately snapped to the leaf. Whatever was outside would have to be blind not to see the orange light coming from inside the hollow and smoke had a strong smell, too, nearly burning my nose. I reached for my ax, falling back against the ground. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and weakly raised my ax when someone stumbled through the leaf, falling on the ground in front of me.

Chenle’s fingers dug into the mud, his knives falling out of his pockets, sliding over the dirt. He was sweating, bleeding, and his shoulders barely lifted with his breaths. He had beat the jaguar, but at what cost?

I carefully pushed myself up and inched towards him, wincing when my injured leg slid off the sleeping bag. I left a trail in the dirt where my butt dragged, and when I reached him, I hooked my hands under his arms and pulled his head onto my lap, doing my best to turn him upward.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice as soft and breathy as it had been when I saved him two days ago.

“I thought you told me not to get used to you saying that.” I brushed the hair plastered on his forehead away. His skin was shiny from sweat and he was burning up. What had happened out there?

His lips quirked upward and he chuckled softly. I didn’t think he was capable of such a thing. “This will be the last time,” he said.

“What happened?”

“The goddamn thing bit me.” He tried to push himself up, but I stopped him. “I think there was poison in its teeth.”

“Like a poisonous snake?”

“Yeah.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know anything about poisons.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you know how to tie a tourniquet, but you don’t know anything about poisons?” I tried to keep my voice light, but panic was quickly spreading. We needed to survive. How were we supposed to survive if neither of us knew anything about poisons?

He winced when I shifted the tiniest bit. “I didn’t see you doing any of the safety stations.”

“Well, aren’t you better than me?”

“I am.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and he let out a soft chuckle. I liked this Chenle much more than I liked yesterday’s Chenle, but our bonding moment was short-lived.

“We should try to treat the bite,” I said. “Can you take the pack off?”

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up on shaky arms. “Help me.”

I slipped my hands under his arms to keep him steady. He slowly slid the straps off and I placed it next to us as he slumped back against my chest, his hair tickling my neck.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he said, his eyelids fluttering slowly.

I carefully reached for the sleeping bag, rolled it up, and placed it next to the side of the hollow. I wrapped one arm around his waist and did my best to scoot us both backwards. My leg begged for me to stop, to drop Chenle and rest, but I clenched my teeth and continued on.

I nearly fell on the sleeping bag, my head hitting the fabric and I let out a deep exhale. Chenle’s head still rested on my chest and it felt rather intimate, but I didn’t have the energy to move him.

“You owe me again,” I said, my chest rising and falling. “This is the second time I dragged your ass.”

“Don’t make me say it again.” He shifted his head, resting his cheek just above my breast. His breaths synced with my heart and I soon realized he was using it to steady himself. Part of me warmed up at the thought.

“I want to hear it again.”

“Well, tough luck.”

I laughed and his voice joined mine. I wrapped my arms around him and, to my surprise, he let me. He closed his eyes.

“I’m going to clean your wound,” I said.

He made a sound of protest, but let me roll him off of my chest anyway. I reached for the bag and pulled out the salve, unscrewed the lid, and rolled up his sleeve. Staring back at me was the biggest bite wound I had ever seen. Green and red oozed out of his skin and I remembered what he had said about the jaguar’s teeth having some kind of poison. I could only hope that the salve would rid his wound of that, too.

I dipped my fingers in the container and gently massaged the medicine into the skin around his wound, just like he had done to my leg this morning. I gritted my teeth, muttered an apology, and stuck my fingers in the wound. He nearly screamed and I clamped my hand over his mouth, his wide eyes meeting mine, and I saw the wet shine in them.

“Just a little longer,” I promised. “Then, I’ll give you the tastiest dried beef in your life.”

Chenle scoffed, wincing when I moved my fingers. He watched me work, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, but by the way his shoulders slumped, I knew the salve was beginning to work.

“Are you done?” he asked when I screwed the lid back on the container. I nodded and fished through the pack for the dried beef. “You’re going to torture me with beef now?”

“I promised you I would.” I took out a strip and held it to his lips. He reluctantly took a bite. “If you’re busy dying from dehydration, you won’t notice your arm.” He considered this for a minute and took another bite. 

He finished the strip a few minutes later and, because I was merciful, I gave him some water to drink. Then, I snacked on a few nuts and three sips of water before the national anthem rang through the night. We exchanged a glance and I slowly scooted towards the hollow’s entrance, pushing the leaf away just enough to see a sliver of the sky. Two canons sounded and the pictures of District 6’s boy and District 8’s girl appeared. I didn’t know much about the girl, but I felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. He would never get to be a father. And for that, I was sorry.

“District 6 and 8 are both out,” I said as I scooted back inside. “That leaves—”

“Nine of us.”

I nodded. “We might actually have a chance of going home, Chenle.”

A faint smile touched his lips, but his eyes still held a hint of doubt. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take first watch,” I said, reaching for the water bottle.

“No, I’ll take it.”

I shot him a look. “You can barely lift your arm, let alone throw a knife.”

At the mention of his injury, his face fell and I knew I had won.

He closed his eyes and I tossed water on the flames. It sizzled to death, leaving us to the mercy of the dark.

I scooted back towards the side, my leg brushing against Chenle’s uninjured arm. He looked peaceful, innocent, and I brushed a few stray hairs off his forehead. He stirred the slightest bit.

I returned my eyes to the entrance of the hollow, resting my ax on my lap, and thought of home.

A toucan croaked as it passed over the leaf covering the hollow. I blinked, upset that that damned bird woke me up, and looked over at the entrance of the hollow. A white envelope rested on the ground just outside the leaf and my anger quickly dissipated. Thank whatever was above for that lovely toucan.

I crawled towards the entrance and it didn’t hit me until seconds later, when I sat criss-crossed in the space between the hollow and the outside, that there was no pain in my leg. There was no pain in my leg.

I looked down to see that color was beginning to seep past the tourniquet. The quest was temporarily forgotten as I pulled and scratched and bit at the vine. I laughed when it fell away, wincing as warmth and blood and color spread through my newly healed leg. I bit my cheek. I forgot how uncomfortable it was when feeling returned to sleeping limbs.

I stuck my hand through the space under the leaf and grabbed the envelope. Just like all the others, a bold, black “7” was printed on the front and the Capitol’s seal stamped it closed on the back.

I looked over at Chenle, who was still sound asleep, and flipped the envelope open. “For District 7,” it read, “poisons are tricky, but if knowledgeable, are valuable. Chosen by the Gamemakers.”

“Poison?” My voice was no louder than a whisper and, naturally, no one responded. I bit my lip.

I crawled over to the backpack and took out the medicine. I applied the salve to my leg first before rolling up Chenle’s sleeve and slathering a generous amount on his arm. He didn’t so much as stir. This was probably the most rest he’d gotten in five days.

I split the contents of the backpack, putting Chenle’s knives, the bag of nuts, the water bottle, the medicine container, and a bottle of iodine next to him. I kept everything else and zipped up the pack.

I moved six pieces of wood next to the fire I had made last night. I decided to be kinder than Chenle had been and wouldn’t make him scoot all the way over to the other side of the hollow, even though he deserved it.

I crouched next to him and shook his shoulder. He groaned. “I’m leaving,” I said although I wasn’t sure he understood me. I stared at him for a second before very carefully pressing a kiss to his forehead. He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

I didn’t look back at him when I left the hollow. Bird calls filled my ears and dew drops dampened my hair, which hadn’t changed since I had left the launch room. Of course, it was greasy from lack of washing, but that wasn’t a priority. I was sure my prep team would understand.

I wandered on foot for a while, trying to remember what I had learned about plants during training, but drew blank after blank. If I could take my brain out of my head and give it a good shake, I would. Two lives were on the line if I couldn’t find this stupid thing.

Eventually, I turned to higher ground. The air was crisper up here, but I made sure not to climb too high. I didn’t need another incident, especially not alone. Chenle wasn’t here to differentiate whether it was real or not and I learned the hard way that I couldn’t trust my judgment.

When my feet began to hurt, I sat and ate a disgusting strip of dried beef, hating myself for leaving the water with Chenle. I resorted to scraping the extra salt off my tongue with my fingernails and after a few more minutes of rest, I continued on.

I jumped in a zigzag pattern just in case there was a threat somewhere on the ground. One of the seven remaining tributes could have ripped the bow and arrow from the District 10 boy’s cold, blue hands and was running around shooting whoever they saw fit. I didn’t want to think of a string-happy teen.

I came across a stream and carefully climbed down. I crouched on the bank, grabbing a harmless leaf and sticking it in the water. Nothing happened, but I wouldn’t be so easily fooled. When I had been dumb enough to blissfully enjoy water from a stream, I had been chemically burned. I wouldn’t risk that again.

Wait—I had been chemically burned!

Would that count as a poison? I hurriedly took the backpack off and dug around looking for some type of container, but the only one I could find was the iodine bottle, and that was too valuable to give up.

I put the pack back on and reluctantly turned my back on the stream. I returned to the trees and traveled further into the jungle. 

Green leaves, brown trees, and multi-colored flowers became a blur and it felt as if I was in some type of hallucination. In the 75th Hunger Games, the Gamemakers had planted tracker jackers in the arena to throw tributes for a loop. I remembered the District 1 girl—I thought her name was Glimmer—had fallen victim to them. And the District 12 girl, the infamous Katniss Everdeen, a secret hero to the districts, had suffered severe hallucinations. I didn’t think the Gamemakers had added them here, but, naturally, there was always the chance that I was wrong. They were unpredictable.

I hit a tree face-first and stumbled backwards, landing hard on my ass. I gingerly touched my nose, praying that I didn’t give myself a nose bleed, and sighed in relief when my fingers came away bloodless. Fuck me for not paying attention to where I was going.

I brushed the dirt off my pants and carefully tested the next branch with my foot. Safe. I moved on.

There were no tributes, no traps, no mutts to hinder me from my fruitless search, and as I traveled farther from the cornucopia, from the heart of the arena, it struck me as odd that the Gamemakers weren’t throwing traps in my path to herd me back towards the center. Maybe the Capitol’s citizens were rooting for me and voted for the Gamemakers to show me mercy just this once. They knew that Chenle waited helplessly in the hollow and deemed it collateral enough for my return. The Capitol really wanted this love story. And a secret part of me thought I was starting to want it, too.

I shook my head. I was being silly. The arena was messing with my head. This was the same Chenle that promised on national television that he was going to kill me; the same Chenle that treated me and my friends like we were the dirt under his shoes; the same Chenle who had the prettiest face when he was fast asleep.

I needed to snap out of it and focus on the task ahead. I could figure out my feelings later.

“If I were a poison,” I said to myself, “where would I be?” Of course, there was no response, but it did get the gears in my head turning.

Plants needed water to survive and grow, meaning that I needed to find a stream, which had already been in my plan, but did poisonous plants grow there? The answer was yes. Yes, they did.

I slapped myself on the cheek. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve looked for plants at the stream I had passed just like I should’ve looked for medicine at the swamp Sungchan and I had camped by. This place was seriously messing with me.

I headed back towards the stream, doing my best to keep myself in the present. It was a little difficult, however, when there were a thousand different things on my mind and they all demanded to be heard right now.

My feet hit the ground when I found the stream and I toed one plant after the other, hoping that one would stick out to me. I pulled my foot away and something small and brown scurried up my shoe and under my pants. I jumped back from the stream bed and rolled up my pants to see a tick—a castor bean tick—making its way up to find the perfect place to bury its head and suck my blood dry.

I picked it off my leg with a quiet, panicked scream and threw it as far as I could, watching the stream ripple from the tick’s entrance. After I had calmed myself down and my breaths returned to normal, I began to carefully dig through the plants again. Castor bean was a plant that could be made into a poison. I remembered that now, and I needed to get my hands on as much as I could.

I picked six and quickly checked them and myself for ticks. I didn’t wash them in the stream for obvious reasons—mostly fear—and threw the berries in my pack.

From what I could tell, it was about early afternoon. I could take my time going back to Chenle and the hollow. If I wanted to, I could go scavenge for more supplies at the cornucopia. There might be something in there that could help me make the berries into something useful.

“To the cornucopia,” I said with mock enthusiasm. I wondered if I was going crazy.

The journey back was quick now that I knew where I was going. My confidence in the trees had returned and my heart finally felt at ease again—or as much ease as it could in this situation. The leaves still blurred together, but it was as if an arrow had appeared, pointing me towards the cornucopia. I followed it.

I landed on the silver platform with steady feet, brushed my hands on my pants, and entered the horn. Nothing had changed since I had left it on the first day, except for the fact that it was barren. I took a hesitant step inside. Nothing. I deemed it safe enough to continue.

The lighting was a dim, tinted blue. The weapon stands in the middle were empty. Nothing hung from the hooks on the back wall. Not even a pack was left, kicked in a corner or stashed under a stand. There was absolutely nothing except for a silver container. And despite not knowing its contents, it held hope.

I slowly wrapped my fingers around it just in case there was a trap connected. It was cold to the touch and a shiver ran down my spine. I unscrewed the lid and looked inside. Hanging from the top of the lid was a stick-looking thing with a blunt end and the bottom of the container looked rough, rock-like. A mortar and pestle. I almost laughed. A mortar and pestle!

I slung my pack onto one shoulder and carefully put the container inside. I left the horn and climbed down the main tree, landing in the middle of the launch plates. Sometimes, the Gamemakers hid landmines underground and I ran as fast as I could out of the circle just in case one decided to explode under my feet, heading for the hollow.

I pushed past the leaf, almost falling on my face from the momentum. Chenle looked up at me, his under eyes dark, as I rested my hands on my knees and sucked in deep breaths.

“Where’d you go?” he asked.

“I finished our quest.” I sat beside him and took the berries and the tiny mortar and pestle out of the pack.

“Is that more medicine?” A swirl of hope slithered around the brown of his eyes and he pushed himself up the slightest bit. He reached for the berries and I slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch it,” I said. “It’s poison.”

His face fell and he returned his hand to his lap. “Oh.”

I put the berries in the container and crushed them with the mortar until the fuzzy, red berry was nothing but mush. I screwed the lid shut and put it back in the pack. “How do you feel?” I asked, taking off my jacket to do another tick check.

“I feel better.” He looked at his arm, his jacket sleeve still rolled up. “Thank you for putting the salve on it.”

“You need to stop saying that.” I stood up. “Close your eyes.” He did as I said and I kicked my pants off, shook them over the makeshift fire pit, and patted my legs down. I did the same with my shirt, underwear, and socks. “You can look now,” I said, slipping my arms through my jacket sleeves.

He opened his eyes. “Did you bring any food?”

“No.” I took the match box from Chenle’s side and lit a match. “I forgot about that.”

“Of course you did.”

“You didn’t bring any food either.” I tossed the match on the wood and turned to look at him. “Do you want more medicine?”

“Yes, please.”

“What’s gotten into you?” I sat next to him and put the medicine container in my lap. “I’m starting to get worried.”

He laughed softly as I applied the salve on his arm. The bite mark had gone from a bloody, dirt-stained gash to a mere dog bite. Capitol medicine worked wonders.

“I should ask you the same thing.” Chenle rested his head back, resting his arms over his knees. “You’re being nice. Almost too nice.”

“Are you still bedridden or are you milking it?” I put the medicine down and checked on the fire. The flames grew at a steady pace and warmth filled the hollow. I sighed.

“I need you alive,” I said. “Nothing else.” Everything else. I pushed the thought away.

“We need to stop getting hurt. We’ll owe each other a leg if we keep doing this.”

“My leg is pretty much useless.” I rolled up my pant leg to reveal the arrow wound and the scar Pa had given me. “It wouldn’t matter to me.”

“I would leave you for the dogs,” Chenle said, but his voice held humor. I was shocked, to say the least. What had happened to Zhong Chenle?

“You’d leave me for bait?”

“What else would I leave you for?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Did you finish the nuts?”

“No.” He picked up the bag and handed it to me. “You can have the rest. I’ll be nice and take the beef.”

We switched food and ate in a comfortable silence. We took a few sips of water and I killed the fire just in time to watch the pictures of the late tributes. Chenle went outside with me and we climbed up a tree, although he moved rather slowly, getting used to his arm again. We sat on a branch, our legs dangling over the sides and turned our heads to the sky.

Only one cannon sounded and the girl from District 10 appeared in the sky. Then the anthem stopped and the world went quiet. The world went quiet.

Since we had finished the last of our food the night before, Chenle and I decided to go hunting the next morning. He woke me up rather early and when my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized that the sun hadn’t risen yet.

He grabbed the night vision glasses from the pack and offered me his hand. I took it. “We have to be quick,” he said, handing me the pack. I put it on and followed him out of the hollow.

It was nearly impossible to see and since Chenle had the night vision glasses, I held onto his hand so tightly that I wouldn’t be surprised if I broke his fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, though, as he guided me through the leaves and low-hanging branches. He didn’t lead me up to the trees and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t feel like plummeting to the ground because I thought the ground was a branch.

“Watch out,” he said quietly, almost inaudibly amongst the night birds’ songs and the buzz of mosquitos. “There’s a tree root.”

He helped me over, placing his hands on my waist. He brushed his palms on his pants when my feet hit the ground and I thought I could see red on his cheeks.

“Are you sure we have to do this right now?” I asked after a leaf slapped me in the face, leaving it wet and… sticky?

“Yes.” Chenle placed his hands on my waist again and picked me up. “So we won’t waste time later on.”

“I can walk, you know.” I wrapped my arms and legs around him anyway.

“You can’t see. We’ll move faster this way.”

“I’m hanging onto you like a sloth.”

He put me down and picked me up bridal style, just as he had done when I got shot in the leg. I didn’t say anything and he carried me into the night.

I didn’t know how Chenle knew his way around the arena so well considering that the both of us had been immobile for a few days at a time, but he seemed to have a map on the back of his hand and he took turns left and right, jumping over trunks like it was no trouble even with my extra weight, as if he had walked through this jungle for his whole life.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked, resting my cheek on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“We’re going to the swamp,” he said. “I’m good at fishing.”

“Cocky ass,” I muttered under my breath and Chenle chuckled softly.

“It’s not cocky if you know what you’re doing.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I’ll drop you.” His arms dipped the slightest bit and, for a second, I thought he was actually going to. I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Relax.” He shifted me around a little and continued walking. “I’m not that big of an asshole.”

“I beg to differ.”

He dipped his grip again.

“Okay, okay!”

He smiled smugly. “That’s what I thought.”

“You know,” I said, readjusting my arms around his neck, “I like you a lot better now.”

“I’ve always been likable.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“You know, I could say the same about you.”

“That you like me better or that I’m likable? Because I know the last part.”

“Both.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?” I placed the back of my hand against his forehead and despite being a little sweaty, he was fine.

“Look who’s being a dick now.”

“How? I’m worried about your well-being!”

“I’m worried about your well-being,” he said mockingly. I hit him in the back of the head.

We fell into a comfortable silence as Chenle navigated through the jungle. I listened to his heart and closed my eyes. Had this always been the real Chenle? The one his family knew? And, for some reason, I felt honored to know him, too.

“Wake up.” Chenle’s voice dragged me out of my nap and he put me down. “Stay here.”

He left me on the bank and waded into the swamp. I couldn’t see much, only his silhouette, but I watched him anyway. I knew I should be watching our backs, but I didn’t want to move my eyes from him.

He stabbed the water like it was his enemy and when he proved successful, he made his way back to shore. “Hold this,” he said, handing me the knife and picking me up again, “and don’t stab me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We returned to the hollow when the first rays of sunlight touched the sky. Chenle put me down in front of the leaf and cracked his neck. “Damn, you were heavy.” I could hear the humor in his voice. “With a capital H.”

“I could say the same about you.” I walked backwards into the hollow. “I had to drag your ass twice and I won’t let you forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He threw a few logs of firewood on top of the useless ones. “At least I didn’t get shot in the leg.”

“I didn’t get mauled by a mutt.”

We stared at each other, eyes narrowed, until Chenle burst out laughing and I followed suit. I realized then that I loved the sound.

“Give me that,” he said, grabbing the knife from my hand.

“Would it kill you to say ‘please’?”

“Yes.” He crouched in front of the low flames and held the fish over it. “You’ve heard me say it enough.”

“And I bask in it every time.” I sat next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest. It was as if I were eating breakfast with Sungchan all over again and before I could stop myself, I said, “Tell me a story.”

Chenle paused, staring at the flames. “When I was younger,” he said slowly, “I really loved to play with rocks. Stuff like hopscotch and rock toss, but I didn’t want anyone to know. It was too… childish, and I didn’t want anyone to think of me like that.”

“But you were a child. What’s wrong with being one? We were all kids.” After a moment, I quietly added, “We are kids.”

He nodded slowly, as if he were processing my words. “I always felt like I needed to be older… to be like my brother.” His eyes met mine. “My parents loved me either way, but I wanted to prove myself.”

“I didn’t know you were so deep, Zhong.”

He shrugged and rotated the fish. “Now, you tell me something, Kim. I want to know your juicy secrets.”

“I don’t have any. My whole life has already been broadcasted.”

“We both know that’s not true.” He smirked and my cheeks heated. “I told you something, so pay up.”

“Okay, well…” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, trying to think of something to tell him. I wasn’t the most interesting person, but I certainly wasn’t the most boring. “I like to climb.”

“Everyone knows that.”

I shot him a glare. He shut his mouth.

“After everyone went to bed, I would climb up the tree in my backyard and look at the stars. I’ve always liked them for some reason. Maybe it’s because they give me hope.” I shrugged. “The stories about them are so… romantic, you know?”

“Romantic?” Chenle took another knife out of his pocket and began to remove the scales. “I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

“Because I’m not.”

“You just admitted to it.”

“I did not!” My cheeks heated and I looked towards the hollow’s entrance. Since when did I get so flustered?

“Whatever you say. The fish’s ready.”

He cut me a piece and then cut one for himself. When we finished eating, Chenle tossed the bones in the fire and stomped it out. I slipped the pack over my shoulders and we left the hollow. Finding the quest was the worst part of the morning. There were no clues as to where that pretty, white envelope was hidden, nor was it in the same spot every day. Chenle and I did figure out, however, that the quest was never too far from the hollow.

“Nothing here!” Chenle called from behind the tree. We had searched everywhere—up and down, side to side, and I even climbed up the slightest bit to look down.

“There has to be something,” I said when he came to join me in front of the hollow. “They wouldn’t stop giving us quests.”

“How many tributes are left?”

“Uh…” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Eight.”

“Don’t you find it weird that they haven’t made the arena smaller?” He crossed his arms. “When there are about ten tributes left, they usually herd them towards the cornucopia.”

“You’re saying that our quest is to kill the other tributes?” I asked skeptically.

“I think so.”

“But how do you know?”

“I’m smart.”

“I don’t think you’re right on this one.”

“Let’s go with my plan first, and if we find a quest on the way, we’ll do it.”

I sighed and pushed past him. “Come on, then. We have tributes to find.”

Chenle followed me away from the cornucopia a little ways. He looked up at the treetops and then at me. “Y/N,” he said, “where are you going?”

“To find tributes.”

“You’re walking away from the cornucopia.”

I paused. “I know.”

“Why?”

“I want to go this way.”

Chenle came to stand in front of me. “Are you scared?”

“What?”

“You couldn’t kill the District 4 girl. Are you scared?”

“Are you not?”

“I’ve done it.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not scared.”

“We need to go to the cornucopia.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “You have to face your fears.”

“Not this one.”

“Come on.” He pushed me a few steps. “I’m not pushing you the whole way. Start walking.”

I turned to face him. “Chenle, I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t let my family watch me kill someone on a screen!”

“You have to! Do you want to live?”

“Of course I want to live!”

“Then get it together!” His face was red from anger and his fingers gripped my shoulders so tightly I knew there would be a bruise.

I leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of his breaths. “Yell at me one more time, Zhong Chenle, and I’ll kill you myself.”

He stared at me, his grip faltering, and it was clear that he hadn’t been expecting those words to come out of my mouth and, frankly, neither did I. But I couldn’t take them back and part of me didn’t want to. Why was he the only one who could give death threats?

“Threaten me again,” he said, shoving me away, “and you won’t see tomorrow.”

I gingerly touched my shoulder, but no pain came from where Chenle had grabbed me. My heart hurt the slightest bit. I felt like a silly teenager who had gotten in an argument with their partner. What was happening? Why me? What did I do to deserve to be partnered with Zhong Chenle? Why did I have to ruin it? No. Scratch that. He ruined it. It had nothing to do with me.

“Are you coming?”

I turned to look at Chenle who had started towards the cornucopia without me. He looked slightly confused as to why I froze, but I just waved him off and followed.

The trek wasn’t long but the silence between us was tense. My words repeated themselves in Chenle’s head just as much as his did in mine. I could see it in the way he walked, his gait slower than it was before, and the look on his face. Was that guilt?

“The first one is always the worst,” he said, falling into step beside me. “You just have to aim, breathe, and let go. You can close your eyes once they’re dead. It helps a little.”

“Thanks.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry… for what I said about killing you earlier.”

I froze. He stared at me. “What?”

“I didn’t think you knew those words.”

He shrugged. “Don’t get used to it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and Chenle smiled, looking down at his feet.

The cornucopia loomed high above us at the top of the tree in the middle of the launch plates. I took a cautious step inside the circle, hoping not to get blown to bits, and once I deemed it safe, we sprinted to the tree.

My fingers found home in small crevices that only those from District 7 could see and pulled myself up to the top. Chenle wasn’t far behind, his hands reaching the platform just as I pulled my feet up.

“Now what?” I asked when he stood.

“Now, we wait.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t like the sound of that.

Chenle and I made our way inside the horn. It was cooler here and there was more sunlight. I sat on a stand near the back wall and pulled my legs up while Chenle rummaged around for hidden goods. I didn’t tell him there wasn't any left.

I closed my eyes. We would be waiting here for a while. Wait—

I opened my eyes. “Chenle, does the poison still apply?”

He was standing outside the horn, overlooking the ground below. “What do you mean?” he asked without turning around.

“If we don’t find someone to kill, will the poison kill us?”

“We don’t have to find someone.” He slowly moved into the horn, hiding in its shadows. “He’s right there.” He pointed his chin towards the male tribute running through the trees. “You kill him.”

“What?”

“You kill him,” Chenle said again.

“No! Why?”

“He’s coming.” His eyes met mine. “You kill him.”

“Chenle, I can’t.” I knew he could see the desperation in my eyes, but he refused to relent.

“You have to, Y/N. You have to face your fears.”

I gulped and turned to look at the boy. He was still ignorant of our presence and there was a pang of guilt in my heart knowing that he was running right into a trap. But it was either him or us and I chose us. I chose us over and over again.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll kill him.”

I crouched behind the stands and slipped the pack off. I took the ax out with unsteady breaths, my hands shaking more than they ever had before. I didn’t know how to kill. I didn’t even know how to hunt correctly. But Chenle was waiting for me to prove myself and, to my horror, I was, too.

“Okay,” I said, meeting his eyes. He nodded. I turned my attention back to the tribute, whose feet had just touched the platform. He was running at full speed, his arms swinging like pendulums, and I wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen us yet.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself, sucking in a deep breath, and let go.

The ax spun in the air, almost in slow motion, and my mouth opened to scream when the blade stuck to the boy’s head. He dropped to the floor with a nearly muted thump and Chenle rushed to him, pulling the ax out of his head and rummaging through his pockets. The boy’s body wasn’t even cold.

I couldn’t move. It was as if I was floating outside of my body, unable to return.

“Y/N!”

Chenle’s voice sounded like it was underwater. I slowly brought my eyes to meet his, and he beckoned for me to follow him. 

My body felt like it was submerged in honey, my legs refusing to move, my arms unable to leave my sides. Chenle glanced behind his shoulder to see that I had barely moved an inch.

“We don’t have time for this,” he said almost angrily. He shoved the ax in my hands and picked me up bridal style, just as he had this morning, and carried me out of the horn.

The sun was bright on my face, warming up my cheeks and blinding my eyes. It was far too cheerful, as if it were smiling down on me for killing the poor boy. When I had regained enough of myself to speak, I asked, “Who was it? Who did I kill?”

“The District 1 boy.”

“I killed a Career?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice.

Chenle nodded. “And you did it flawlessly, too.”

I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t want to know how well I did it or how skilled I was. I didn’t even want to think about it, to have the sight play across my eyelids every time I blinked.

“But how?” I asked.

“What do you mean ‘how’?”

“How did I do it?”

“With an ax.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean how did he not see us?”

Chenle shrugged, shifting me in his arms. “That I can’t tell you.”

He put me down at the edge of the platform and pointed his chin towards the branch I had used to escape on the first day of the Games. I took a step back to get a running start and jumped, wrapping my arms around the branch and swinging myself up in an arc.

Once I was stable on my feet, Chenle did the same. We walked along the branches, letting the silence speak for us.

“Can we sit for a while?” I asked. “I need to think.”

“If you think about what you’ve done, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.” Chenle stepped onto another branch. “Let’s keep moving.”

“I just need five minutes.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Please, Chenle.”

He turned around. “Fine. Five minutes.”

I sat down, dangling my legs off the branch. Chenle sat next to me, watching the ground below.

“Who was your first kill?” I asked. I couldn’t muster anything louder than a whisper.

“The girl from 6,” he said nonchalantly, as if it didn’t bother him at all. “She was running behind me, so I thought she was after me and… I killed her.” I could hear the crack in his voice, but I couldn’t tell if it was guilt or sorrow. Maybe it was both.

I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to. It’s us or them.” And I chose us.

“I know.” Whatever he had felt seconds ago was gone. “And you shouldn’t let what you had to do haunt you either.”

I nodded slowly.

“Okay,” Chenle said, getting to his feet. “Time’s up.”

I stood and brushed the dirt off my hands. Chenle stepped onto another branch and I followed, shoving every thought to the back of my mind.

Our search was fruitless until nightfall. We returned to our hollow, thankful to have eliminated the District 1 boy, but I felt no real joy at all. Chenle tried to reassure me that it wasn’t as big a deal as I was making it out to be, but it was to no avail. How was killing someone not a big deal?

I was ready to turn in for the night, but I knew it would be a sleepless one. I reached out to push the leaf in front of the hollow back, but Chenle reached out to stop me.

“Look,” he said quietly, pointing his chin towards the tree in the middle of the launch plates. Climbing up its trunk were two tributes. “Come on.” Chenle grabbed my arm and we made our way over to the tree.

I followed him, biting the inside of my cheek. Deep down, I knew we needed to do this, to kill them, but I didn’t know if I could bring myself to. One murder was enough for a life time, but Chenle wouldn’t kill if there wasn’t a reason and he certainly wouldn’t drag me into it if there wasn’t any other choice.

“Climb,” he said, leaving me at one of the trees neighboring the cornucopia. I watched him slip into the shadows.

I reached a branch level with the cornucopia’s platform, crouching near the end of it. The two tributes were still climbing, oblivious to our presence.

A leaf rustled on the other side of the cornucopia and I could make out Chenle’s silhouette. He motioned for me to take the ax out of the pack and I carefully slipped it out. When it was safely in my hands, Chenle nodded and raised his hand. I stayed still.

The knife skimmed the girl’s arm, sticking itself in the mud below. She let out a pained cry and her partner looked up just in time to see that Chenle's second knife had embedded itself in the side of her head. Her eyes rolled and she fell backwards. Her partner watched her with horror.

I brought my eyes to meet Chenle’s, barely making out the word he mouthed: Go. I shakily raised my ax to throw at the boy, who still climbed despite the loss of his partner. I sucked in a deep breath and let go, watching the ax spin in the air until it made contact with the boy’s leg. I closed my eyes when I heard him scream.

To my surprise, he was still climbing, but it was clear that his injured leg was slowing him down. He reached up, trying to slip his fingers in a crevice, but failed and now dangled by one arm. I could see the panic on his face, could hear his scared cry, and when his arm failed him, he plummeted. His bones cracked when he hit the ground, the ax buried itself deeper, and he hit his head on the roots of the tree. He didn’t move.

I slowly climbed down, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it was to no use. I met Chenle next to their bodies, only a few feet apart.

“District 2,” said Chenle, bending down to remove his knife from the girl’s head.

I looked at the body sprawled on the roots. I remembered his name to be Jeno, the boy who had almost saved my life. Unintentionally, of course, but now, for some stupid reason, I felt like I had wronged him. The District 2 girl on the other hand, I did not feel bad for. She had tried to kill me twice and, in the end, we had killed her.

“Get your ax,” Chenle said. “Let’s go home.”

Home. What an odd word to call the hollow. But I didn’t comment on it and followed him.

Chenle pushed back the leaf and waited for me to walk in first before following suit. He made a fire with the matches we had left in the hollow and patted the spot next to him. He didn’t say anything as he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of moss and smoke, and cried.

He ran his hand over my hair and I listened to the steady beat of his heart. He rested his chin on my head, pulling my legs over his lap so he could hold me closer. I didn’t want him to let go.

“Do you want to eat?” he asked when my tears died down.

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around him. He let me. “Do you?”

“A little.”

I laughed softly. He gave me a squeeze. “You should eat,” he said.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it down.”

He nodded. “Do you want to sleep?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

We fell silent, holding each other as if we were the other’s lifeline. After a while, Chenle moved to throw another piece of wood in the fire, still holding me against his chest. We stayed there, sitting in front of the fire, until the heat burned us, but we still didn’t move. I felt like I deserved it.

“Chenle?”

He hummed.

“Are we monsters?”

“Remember what you told me earlier? About doing what I had to?”

“Yes.”

“We did what we had to and that doesn’t make us bad people.”

“But we killed someone, Chenle.” I met his eyes. “We killed people.”

“It was us or them,” he said softly. “You said it yourself.”

“I know, but…” Tears welled in my eyes and I sniffled. “It doesn’t make it any better.”

“Listen to me, Y/N.” He cupped my cheek to make sure I couldn’t look away. “You’re not a monster. You’re not a bad person. You’re not a killer.”

“But I am!”

“No.” He shook his head. “Killers enjoy what they've done. Did you enjoy it?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not a killer. Say it.”

“I’m not a killer.”

“Do you believe it?”

“No.”

“Say it again. Say it until you believe it.”

I did. I repeated the words over and over again, but they didn’t stick. In fact, I felt worse.

“Are you tired?” Chenle asked when my tongue ached.

I nodded.

He gently moved me off his lap and went over to the sleeping bag, unrolling it so we could sleep inside instead of using it as a pillow. He came back to pick me up, as if I couldn’t walk by myself, and placed me on the bag. Then, he stomped out the fire.

“Can I sleep here?” he asked.

“We’ve slept next to each other for the past two nights.”

“But this is different.”

“How?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Because our bodies will be pressed together.”

I scooted over as much as I could. “I’m getting cold.”

He tucked himself in next to me and slowly wrapped his arms around me, waiting for me to object, but I didn’t. I wanted the comfort.

“Chenle?”

He hummed.

“Tell me something.”

“I told you something already.”

“Tell me something else.”

He paused for a moment then said, “When your friends first invited me to play Spoons with them, I was really nervous.”

I propped myself up. “Why?”

“You all looked like you hated me. You, especially. You were frowning the whole time.”

“Can you blame me? You were mean all the time.”

“I know, but I still appreciated it anyway.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“What?” I nudged him. “Too childish?”

He chuckled softly. “Something like that.”

“Being nice isn’t childish. It’s actually very mature.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiled.

I snuggled closer. “I hope we win,” I said, “or I killed for nothing.”

“We have a chance. Despite what Yuta said, we actually have a chance.”

“I know.”

“What’s the first thing you’d do if we win?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Kiss Yerim and tell her everything’s alright.”

“I’d dance.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’d dance?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re alive.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have blood on our hands and you’d dance.”

“Way to kill the mood.”

I scoffed. “I can’t believe you.”

“You never do.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something?”

He went silent and I closed my eyes.

“I know you think I’m a dick,” he said.

“You don’t say.”

“But I feel just as horrible as you.”

I opened my eyes. This whole time, he’d seemed so unfazed about the deaths he’d caused, like it was a normal, run-of-the-mill activity. I remembered what he’d said earlier about being haunted by the District 6 girl’s death—a death in which he’d been the Grim Reaper. Who would’ve thought that a being such as he mourned every soul he took.

“I never would’ve guessed,” I said, unsure if the humor in my voice could be heard.

“I’m human, you know.”

I shifted onto my back. “When we get home, I’ll make sure you’re never alone. I promise.”

He turned to stare at the roof of the hollow. “Do you think the world can hear us?”

“What do you mean?”

“The arena has cameras and microphones everywhere. Do you think they can hear us? Like truly hear us?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. The world heard what it wanted to. Those in the other districts with late children would see us as monsters. Those in the Capitol would see us as victors. And those at home would do their best not to cower in fear from what we’ve done.

“No,” I said. “No, they don’t.”

“So you’re the only one who understands?”

“I guess so.”

“What a lonely world.”

“Chenle?”

He hummed.

“Can you hold me?”

He paused. “Sure,” he said.

I snuggled into his arms and he pulled me close. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping against his chest like a rabbit’s foot, could feel the way his chest rose and fell. His hand brushed over my hair just like Ma used to when she tucked me into bed. It was a comfort.

“Your hair is soft,” he said.

I laughed. “Grease and all?”

“Grease and all.”

“Should I ruffle your hair, too?”

“If you want.”

I reached up and ran my fingers through it. It was surprisingly soft and I wondered if he snuck off to a stream to wash it, but that was silly. Knowing the Gamemakers, they probably would’ve set his hair on fire.

“Your prep team will have a blast taming this,” I said.

“I can brush my own hair.”

“Shocker.”

“I can do things, you know. I’m pretty smart.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Do you believe me?”

I paused, then quietly said, “Yes.”

He pulled me closer. “I’m glad it’s you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m glad it’s you with me.”

I was quiet for a moment. The one you love most. “Why?”

“You’re not too bad.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“We should sleep,” he said. “We have to stay alive tomorrow.”

It would be a miracle if sleep would find me. I could still hear the thump of Jeno’s head against the tree roots, the District 2 girl’s scream when Chenle’s first knife cut her and the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I couldn’t forget all the deaths I’d caused, whether I was holding the knife or not.

I stared at the top of the hollow, studied the way it curved to make an arch. Would I feel better if I could see the stars? Would that bring me some kind of solace? I couldn’t be sure unless I found out.

Chenle’s breaths were slow, his face relaxed, peaceful. I carefully moved his arm off of me, pausing every time he seemed to stir, and slowly crawled out of the sleeping bag. I glanced back at him when I left the hollow.

I climbed until I could see the sky through the leaves and crossed my legs, resting my head back. Were nineteen young lives shining up there? Were they smiling down on us? If I wished on one, would it come true? I knew that Sungchan might answer my prayer—he had allied with me after all—but would the others stop him? I bit my lip, trying not to cry, but it was to no avail.

I closed my eyes as tears trickled down my cheeks. If I won, I would kill the Gamemakers myself. I would avenge the lives that had been taken. I could do it with Chenle by my side. But the last two rebellions failed and a third wouldn’t be any different.

“Save us,” I said quietly to no one in particular, but I hoped it reached Sungchan anyway and I thought I saw a star shine especially bright before it dimmed to the same color as the others.

I stayed up there for a while, crying until my eyes were puffy and there were no tears left. And when I slipped back in the sleeping bag beside Chenle, I closed my eyes and replayed my cruelty over and over again.

Sungchan crouched in front of me, cupping my cheek. “Y/N,” he said softly, “wake up.”

I blinked once, twice, three times and almost cried at the sight of him. Sungchan.

He smiled and hugged me tight. “I’m so proud of you.”

I thought you died. I reached out to touch him, but my hand went straight through him.

“I did.” His face fell and I wished I could hold him like he held me. “I promised I would protect you until I couldn’t…” He sucked in a deep breath. “And I didn’t.”

No, no, no. I tried to scoot closer, but it was to no avail and I jabbed Chenle with my hip. No, you saved me.

Sungchan smiled sadly. “You can win,” he said. “I know you can.”

I shook my head, but deep down, I knew I could, too. Chenle can win. I can’t.

“That’s not true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

Stay. You can stay.

“I can’t.”

But you’re here. You’re here right now.

He gently placed his hand over my heart. “I’m here,” he said. “I’m with you here.”

No, I need you alive.

“I’m not alive.” He hugged me tighter. “I heard your wish.”

I pulled back to look him in the eye. They still held a hint of that beautiful honey-brown. You heard me?

“That’s why I’m here.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. My wish is for you to stay.

Sungchan shook his head. “You know it’s not.”

I know.

“I can’t save you,” he said and it hurt to hear even though it was the truth, “but I can tell you one thing.”

I leaned forward as if it would help me hear better.

“Trust your gut,” he said. “Listen to it and do what it tells you even if you don’t want to, even if you think you can’t.”

You want me to kill someone.

Sungchan nodded, his face grim. “I do.”

How can you say that? I pulled away, but there was nowhere to go. He didn’t reach for me. How can you ask me to do that?

“Because you need to and you know that.”

I shook my head in disbelief. No.

“I’m not real, Y/N. I’m just a figment—”

No! No, you’re real! You’re right here!

“You’re not speaking.”

I paused. He was right. I refused to believe it.

He pulled me in. “I believe in you. You can win.”

I can’t. I sobbed and it was a wonder Chenle didn’t wake. Sungchan, I can’t.

“You can and you know it.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I have to go now, but I am so proud of you.” He held my hands one last time. “And I’m here with you always.”

I watched him dissipate like an apparition, leaving me in the dark of the hollow. I lowered myself next to Chenle when I saw the District 4 girl standing in front of the leaf. “I don’t blame you,” she said.

What?

“I don’t blame you for killing me.”

I stayed upright. Why not?

She stepped towards me until she was sitting just inches away. “Because I would’ve done the same.”

You don’t hate me?

She shook her head and looked over at Chenle. “I should hate him.” She reached out to brush his arm. He didn’t stir. “But I don’t.”

Because you would’ve done the same.

She nodded. “Sungchan loved you. He told me.”

I froze. What do you mean?

“He wanted you to live. He wanted you to live more than him…” She looked at me sourly. “More than me.”

I didn’t—

“I know.” She sighed. “But I agree—you deserve it.”

Thank you.

“My advice is the same as Sungchan’s.” She glanced around the hollow. “Do what you have to and do it well.”

I’m guessing you can’t stay either.

She shook her head. “And I don’t want to.” She slowly got to her feet. “For Sungchan’s sake, I hope you win, District 7.”

Thank you. I didn’t know what else to say.

“I ask you one thing.”

What?

“Mourn us for a day,” she said, “then let us go.”

I watched her leave the hollow, walking through the leaf as if it wasn’t there. I watched the entrance, unsure if anyone else would come and, one by one, they did. Some were forgiving. Others were not. I appreciated their company nonetheless.

When the last tribute faded, the dimmest rays of light slipped through the leaves, and that was when Johanna came. Johanna Mason, the last District 7 victor, had come for me.

“So you might win,” she said, sitting criss-crossed in front of me. “You and Chenle.”

We might.

“And I’m proud.”

I stared at her. What did I do to deserve her praise?

“Because you survived,” she said as if she heard my thoughts. She probably did.

I’m sorry… for what happened to you.

Johanna shrugged. “I was screwed over, but there’s nothing I can do now.” She placed a hand on my arm. “But there’s a fuck ton you can.”

Like what?

“We all heard your thoughts last night.” She leaned in. “You can avenge us.”

No. I shook my head. I’m not a leader.

“But you are.” Johanna leaned back and flicked back the hair on her shoulder. “You have to figure that out yourself.”

I don’t—

Johanna rose to her feet and gave me an approving nod. “For District 7,” she said. Then, she was gone.

Chenle shook me awake and I shot up with heavy, slightly panicked breaths. “What?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

I frantically looked around the hollow, but there was no sign of the ghosts that had come. “I saw—I thought I saw—”

“Hey.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down. It’s okay.”

“No,” I said and I could feel the tears well. “No, you don’t understand. They were here.”

“Who was here?”

“The—The trib—Sungchan was here.”

“Y/N, you just had a nightmare. Did you sleep?”

I shook my head, staring down at my fingers. “No.”

“You were hallucinating.” Chenle hugged me, but not as tightly as Sungchan had. “You’re just freaked out.”

“I saw them,” I said, pleading for him to believe me. “They talked to me.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Chenle placed his hand on my forehead and I wanted to cry even more. Why didn’t he believe me?

I batted his hand away. “I’m fine.”

He dropped his hand but not without question. “Do you want to stay here? We’ll have to kill again.”

I shook my head. “No.” Trust your gut.

“Okay.”

“We missed the canons last night,” I said.

“We already knew who died.” Chenle dug through the pack, searching for food, but came up empty. “We were their deaths.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know.”

“So why did you ask?”

“To make sure I’m not imagining it.” I looked down at my hands. “It doesn’t feel real.”

Chenle hummed and slipped the pack on. “We should go find food,” he said. “Then, we’ll go back to the cornucopia.”

“Wait.”

He looked at me questioningly.

“Can’t we just wait for them to kill each other off? We don’t have to do anything! We can just let them do it.”

“Y/N,” he said, crouching in front of me, “that won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“There’s only five of us left: the District 1 girl, District 11, and us. If District 11 kills her, then we’ll need to kill them. The Gamemakers aren’t going to allow us to wait for them to die.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated that he was right.

“If the District 1 girl manages to kill both District 11 tributes,” he continued, “then we’d have to kill her. We can’t just sit this one out.”

I pulled my knees up to my chest.

“We won’t kill unless we absolutely need to and if you can’t lift that ax, I will do it. I promise.” He reached for my hands and I let him.

“Okay.”

Chenle helped me to my feet. “We can make it.”

You can win.

“But let’s find breakfast first.”

I followed Chenle out of the hollow and into the morning light. Bird calls filled the air and we joined them in the trees. We left the cornucopia behind us, heading towards the swamp that had become our sole source of water. It was also where we killed the District 4 girl.

I don’t blame you.

Chenle lowered himself onto the branch under us.

“We don’t have time to fish,” I said.

“But we have time to find berries.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Did Chenle know about the poisonous berries on the swamp’s bank? Did he know about those dastardly ticks that crawled on them? I opened my mouth to call out to him when a shrill cry pierced the air.

I snapped my neck towards the cornucopia. “What was that?” My heart pounded in my chest.

Chenle didn’t respond. He climbed back up to me, grabbed my hand, and led me back to the cornucopia. Tears sprung to my eyes at the thought of watching the slaughter of another tribute, but I didn’t have a choice.

You have to face your fears.

We stopped a few trees away from the platform. The tribute let out another pained cry and I slapped my hand over my mouth before I could join them. Chenle wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. My tears stained his jacket.

“We need to get closer,” he said after a minute.

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“I know.”

Chenle carefully removed his arm from my shoulders and jumped to the next branch. I followed him. We stopped right next to the platform and Chenle jumped onto it. I stayed in the tree.

“Are you that weak?” the District 11 girl asked her victim with a sick smile on her face. She waved her sickle in her hand before gripping it tight. “I’m going to send your chopped up body back to Mommy and Daddy. That’ll teach ‘em.”

She was enjoying this. She was a killer.

I exchanged a glance with Chenle right as the wet sound of pierced flesh reached my ears. I turned to stare at the District 11 girl hack into the last tribute from District 1. Her head rolled off to the side and her back had enough holes to home colonies of ants. I bit my hand to keep from screaming and shut my eyes. I didn’t know if Chenle did the same.

The world went quiet and I slowly opened my eyes. Nothing felt real. This was all a very bad dream. I was home, in District 7, and if I pinched my arm hard enough, I would wake up in my bed, cuddled next to Yerim. I dug my nails into my skin.

Noise flooded back to my ears. The District 11 tributes were laughing, kicking the girl’s head like it was a ball. I was going to vomit.

The girl looked up as if she were to praise whatever deity was above, and when she did, she saw Chenle standing on the platform. She whistled to her partner, who was rolling a dismembered arm in the mud, and he followed her gaze. Their sick smiles grew.

“Chenle!” My voice sounded like it was underwater and even I could barely hear it. He spared me a glance and gripped the knives in his pockets.

“We’ll get her later,” the District 11 girl said to her partner as she started to climb. He grunted in response.

Chenle went to the edge of the platform and got on his hands and knees. What was he doing? If the girl got close enough, she could make his head roll with just one swipe of her sickle, but he slowly got to his feet and ran the other way.

I watched him for a moment. Then, I realized what he was doing.

I took a step back and jumped on the branch pointing away from the cornucopia. I slipped behind the trunks, out of their view, and met Chenle on the tree directly across from the platform. I wasn’t sure if the other tributes had caught on, but they continued to climb anyway.

“We can jump,” I said. “They can’t kill us if we jump.”

“We’re not commiting suicide,” Chenle said lowly.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my head to be their new toy!”

“And it won’t.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I want you to run,” he said.

“You came all the way over here to tell me to run?” Was he crazy?

“Yes.” He took my hands in his. “If they get me, there’s still a chance you can win. You can hide. You know how to get food.”

“But they’ll push us together,” I whispered hurriedly. “Chenle, we don’t have time to make a game plan.”

His voice was stern as he said, “Run.”

“No.”

“Over there!” the District 11 girl called.

Chenle pushed me away. “Go,” he said. “Now.”

I didn’t think twice. I ran. And even though my heart was telling me to turn back, I ran, stopping before I could get too far. I climbed further up the tree and jumped back the way I came, crouching at the end of the branch. I watched Chenle race back to the cornucopia, making a full circle, and when he reached the tree I had stood in, he threw a knife. It lodged itself in the District 11 boy’s head and he fell, spinning in the air like a diver until he hit the ground. The knife buried itself deeper from the impact and I heard his skull crack.

Chenle jumped onto the platform, spinning a knife in his hand. He sized up the girl and she did the same, her eyes nearly red with fury.

“I will kill you,” she said, taking a step towards him. He took a step back. “I will hurt you like no one has ever hurt you before.”

She took another step. Chenle stepped back. She was going to push him off the platform.

I chose us.

I hurried to get closer to them, and I saw her lips move, but couldn’t hear a single word. I could only think of one thing: I needed to save him.

“I will skin you and wear it as a pelt!” She swung her sickle and Chenle ducked, rolling under and standing up behind her. She whirled around. “We can play this game all day. No one is coming to save you.”

A rush of hope spread through my body. She had forgotten about me. I creeped closer.

Chenle didn’t speak, didn’t beg for his life. It was driving the girl mad.

“Fine,” she said, stepping closer. “You want to die with pride?”

Still, Chenle didn’t speak, didn’t so much as hum. She clenched her jaw and swung.

He jumped back and I wondered how he did it so gracefully. He led her around in circles, getting her close to the tree—close to me. But she didn’t know that.

“Goodbye, District 7.” The girl raised her sickle. “You don’t get any last words.” She aimed for his throat and paused. I could barely process what I had done.

She toppled over, landing inches from Chenle’s feet, my ax buried in her back. I had killed her. I had killed her. I had killed her.

“Come down, Y/N,” Chenle said.

I shook my head, not bothering to suppress the tears. “I killed her.”

I pressed my forehead against the branch, digging my fingers into the bark. My tears made rivers in the cracks and they seeped into my pants. I couldn’t move.

Chenle left the platform and climbed up to me. He slipped his arms around my stomach and pulled me up, resting the back of my head against his chest. My lower lip wobbled. The tears didn’t stop. I cried.

Chenle brushed my hair back and whispered calming words in my ears, but it was to no avail. I only cried harder, and when three canons sounded and the national anthem played and the top of the dome opened to let the helicopter in, I curled myself into Chenle. He carried me into the craft and the staff buckled me in. He sat across from me and looked as if he was going to kill the woman for separating us.

When the craft’s door opened, I was exhausted. Yuta, Joohyun, and our prep teams waited on the ground and I ran into Yuta’s arms. He hugged me tightly. Chenle stood awkwardly behind us.

“You did it,” Yuta said. “You little shits did it.”

I cried harder. There was no doubt in my mind that I looked pathetic.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up,” Joohyun said, prying me from Yuta’s arms. She slipped an arm over my shoulder and walked me towards the gray building behind us. I didn’t check to see if anyone followed.

The trees outside turned into blurs of green and brown. The sky was too bright and blue for my liking. Thankfully, dusk was only a few hours away and the shadows would surround me once again.

I discovered that I liked the dark. For some, it was filled with thoughts, but for me, it was filled with nothing. It was the only peace I had now.

My stomach rumbled and I turned away from the window, clenching my fingers around the white, silk sheets. I hadn’t eaten in days and, somehow, it didn’t bother me. The first dinner Chenle and I had back in the Capitol had been fish and I couldn’t even look at it without bursting into tears. Berries had turned to poison, nuts held no appeal, and I wouldn’t even think about dried beef.

The last few days we spent in the Capitol were mostly a blur, but I remembered the interview with Ten Lee, being crowned victor by President Colton Snow, the last feast Chenle and I had in the penthouse. Seulgi had held me after dinner that night as we curled up on the couch and watched the highlights of the Games. Watching the ends of twenty-two lives had made me sick to my stomach.

When the words “District 4” had appeared on the screen in gold, bold font, I had gotten up and retired to bed, although with no real sleep. No one had followed me and for that I had been thankful. Now, as I holed up in my room, I could only think of the Games. I closed my eyes and let the tears flow. Maybe the memories would fade with time, but I knew that would never happen—memories like that never went away.

Mourn us for a day, then let us go. I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise.

I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Nothing could hold my interest for more than five minutes and nothing could take away the empty feeling that consumed my being. Chenle had asked me once if anyone truly heard us and my answer had been no. Only Chenle understood and sometimes, I wished he didn’t.

The door slid open to reveal Joohyun standing in the doorway. “Lunch is ready,” she said, coming to sit on the bed. She ran a careful hand over my hair. “How are you feeling?”

I turned to face the window. I didn’t need to see her to know she was offended. I didn’t have the energy to speak to anyone right now, except for Chenle, and even then I only said a few words. Joohyun was too talkative, which some might find comforting—a way to distract them from their thoughts—but it only gave me a headache.

I sucked in a deep breath and said, “I’m not hungry.” My voice was monotone, dead. I felt like a husk and I guess it showed in every aspect.

“Would you like me to bring you a drink?” She was referring to those sparkly, green drinks that settled your hunger for twenty-four hours or so. I shook my head. “Okay.” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “When you’re ready, we’re in the main car.”

She stood when I didn’t reply and left the room. I wanted Chenle. I never thought I’d want him when I was Reaped. Now, I wanted him every day. What a funny world we lived in.

The room turned black when the train passed under a tunnel. I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes. When I awoke, the stars were shining and the dim, light blue night lights were on. I pushed myself up to sit, but dropped back down from the exertion of energy I didn’t have. I steepled my fingers over my stomach and stared at the ceiling.

There was a knock at the door and before I could tell whoever was outside to go away, the door slid open and Chenle stepped in. I made room for him and he cuddled under the blankets, pulling me into his arms. I let him.

We didn’t talk for a while, basking in the comfort of the other’s presence. Somehow, Chenle was still unfazed from the seven days we’d spent in the arena and was able to talk and eat and play with Joohyun and Yuta in the main car while my soul was taken bit by bit.

“We had quail and jello for dinner,” Chenle said in an attempt to break the silence.

I hummed and even that took effort.

“We played darts, too—well, Yuta and I did. I was pretty good.”

That didn’t make me feel any better. Darts had points. Arrows had points. Knives had points. Axs had points. Points could kill. Chenle didn’t seem to notice my discomfort.

“Do you know what a movie is?”

I shook my head.

“It’s a video story that plays on a screen, like the news, but more entertaining.”

We had screens in District 7, but they were only programmed to show the news and, of course, the annual Games.

“We watched a funny one—a comedy, I think it’s called—before dinner.” Chenle tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You should join us next time.”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t make me drag you out of bed.” Chenle cupped my cheeks so I couldn’t look away. “You’ll kill yourself if you don’t get up.”

“I should’ve died in there.”

“No.” He looked like he was going to cry. What a sight that would be. “Don’t talk like that.”

“We weren’t meant to win.”

“But we did.”

“And it’s killing me,” I said quietly.

He didn’t say anything more and pulled me closer. We stayed like this for a while, syncing the rise and fall of our chests, the beat of our hearts. We became one, and just like in the arena, we saved each other.

“I was never going to kill you.”

I looked at him. “What?”

“I was never going to kill you,” he said.

“Why not?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Because I wanted to bring you home.”

I paused. “But you said—”

“I know what I said.”

I studied his face, the earnesty in his eyes. “You were getting them off my back.”

He nodded. “I hoped they would leave you alone if they thought you were taken care of. They seemed to believe me for the most part.”

I fell silent, processing what he had said. Chenle had always meant to save me and I had thought I was the first one on his to-kill list. I didn’t know what to think, so I stayed snuggled in his arms, and when the clock read 1:04 a.m., I said, “I’m ready.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m ready to watch the Games.”

“Okay.” Chenle sat up, shifting me a little, and picked up the remote on the nightstand. He slid his finger over the black surface and the blue panels in front of the bed slid back to reveal a screen. I sucked in a deep breath when he placed the remote back on the bedside table and the Games began. The first boom sounded and I shut my eyes. Chenle’s arm tightened around me and I slowly opened them again.

You have to face your fears.

I saw Chenle and myself first. I had run into the horn as he ran out, jumping on the closest tree and climbing away. I hadn’t been too far behind when Jeno, the District 2 boy, reached the platform, eyeing me as his first victim, but I’d been too fast and escaped through the trees.

The first day had been boring for the most part. Only eight had died and I knew the Capitol must’ve been disappointed in such a bloodless blood bath. When the first night had ended and the sun had risen on the second day, I straightened myself and gripped Chenle’s hand.

I watched myself share one last hug with Sungchan, heard his promise to meet me back at our tree and our last goodbyes before we had to part. I already knew what had happened to me, so I trained my eyes on Sungchan.

He had wandered through the jungle for a while, twirling his knives in his hands. His walk had been peaceful while digital me ran for her life away from the Careers. I heard Sungchan grunt and turned my eyes back to his screen. He had lowered himself onto a tree trunk and closed his eyes, resting his head back. What a rookie move.

His eyes had snapped open when he heard mud squelch around him and I realized he had been waiting for the beast to find him. It hadn’t been a rookie move after all.

Sungchan had calmly risen to his feet just as the District 4 girl pushed her way through the leaves, scalpel chain in hand. The two had exchanged a glance and advanced on the jaguar. At first, it had looked as if they would come out alive, but I knew better.

Voices had carried through the air and Sungchan paused for a split second. He must’ve recognized their voices for he said to his partner, “I’ll cover you.” She had nodded and continued to fight the beast as the Careers creeped closer.

The beast had reared on its hind legs, towering over Sungchan and his partner, completely covering them with its shadow. The girl had swung up her chain and it roped around the jaguar’s neck like a lasso as Sungchan lowered himself into his throwing stance. His first knife had left his fingers as his partner tugged the chain towards her and the beast’s head fell to the ground, followed by its body.

She had made a sound of glee when Sungchan released his second knife, hitting the District 2 girl in the leg. Then, his cries had filled the air. At the sound, the District 4 girl had whirled around to watch her partner fall to his knees, eyes turning wet with tears. An arrow had lodged itself in between his lungs—in his heart.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks like waterfalls. Chenle didn’t say anything and pulled me closer. I let him.

The District 4 girl hadn’t thought twice and took off in the opposite direction. Part of me hated her for leaving him—they were partners after all—but I realized that her life had been on the line, too.

“Turn it off,” I said when the Careers had begun to chase after her. “Turn it off!”

Chenle slid his finger over the remote and the screen disappeared, covered by the panels. I let out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No.” I wiped my tears away, but they were soon replaced by others. “No, I’m not.”

“I know. It was a stupid question.” Chenle wrapped both arms around me and squeezed until I couldn’t breath. I wanted him to squeeze harder.

Of course pure-hearted Sungchan had died saving his partner. Why couldn’t he have been selfish for once? But selfish for what? So he could have come back to me? No, I couldn’t be angry at him for this—for dying for a person he had known all his life, even if they hadn’t spoken before the Games.

I’m glad she’s not dead.

“I’m thirsty,” I said.

Chenle pulled himself away the slightest bit. “Do you want me to get you something?”

“No.” I pushed myself up, throwing the covers off my legs. “I’ll get it.”

He watched me stumble across the room, placing my hand against the wall to steady myself. The door slid open for me and I stepped into the hallway.

It still amazed me how steady the train was considering how fast it raced down the tracks. There were so many wonders in this world, even though most of them were small, that Sungchan and all the other tributes could no longer experience. I had robbed them of such things and for that, I would be eternally guilty.

Yuta sat in a seat next to the window, taking sips of whiskey and staring blankly at the seat I had sat in when we first rode the train. He looked downcast, like something was eating at him, and when I sat down, he slowly met my eyes.

“Welcome back to the world of the living, kid,” he said with a chuckle that held no real humor. “Too soon?”

“A little.” I pulled my knees up to my chest. “I thought you would be in bed.”

He shook his head. “Too much to think about.” He sighed and slumped back in his seat. “You probably have a lot to think about, too.”

I hummed.

“Want to talk about it?” He raised the glass to his lips. “I went through it all, too.”

“Does it ever go away? All the memories?”

He paused mid-drink. “No,” he said, resting his hand on his thigh. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So, how do you do it?”

Yuta raised his glass, putting it near his forehead and flicking it out like a salute. “I drink.”

I shook my head. “You’re not a drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“So, how do you do it?”

He was silent for a while and I could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to find an answer. “I don’t know,” he said. “I tried to get into alcohol, but I couldn’t forget what I’d done like that. Sure, I drink every now and then, but I can’t use it as an escape.” He met my eyes. “I think I’ve come to terms with what I’ve done, if that makes sense. I learned all their names, their faces, their eyes. They haunt me every night and I let them.” Tears welled in his eyes and before I could think better of it, I hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice muffled by the seat cushions. “I’m sorry.”

He slowly wrapped his arms around me and we held each other for what felt like forever. When I pulled away, wiping tears from my eyes, I knew that I had to do the same. Twenty-two memories would live inside me and I would carry them—live for them—just as Yuta did for the twenty-three lives he took. And, somehow, I was filled with a new purpose.

Mourn us for a day, then let us go. I couldn’t keep my promise and it felt like I was betraying Sungchan once again, but they needed to be remembered. Every life deserved to be kept alive in some way or another.

“Where did you get that?” I pointed my chin at his whiskey glass.

“Cooler,” he said without looking at me.

I made my way over to the table full of food and drink. Sandwiches and pastries were stacked neatly on white plates and bottles were stashed in an ice bucket held up by a black stand made to look like vines. I pulled out the whiskey bottle at the bottom and unscrewed the lid. I didn’t know if Yuta was watching me, but if he was, he didn’t try to stop me. I brought the bottle to my lips and drank.

It burned my throat and I brought the bottle away, gagging. I screwed the lid back on and headed towards the sliding door. I looked back at Yuta, who still stared at my seat. “Goodnight,” I said. “Thank you.”

He grunted in response and I went back to my room.

Chenle hadn’t moved from the bed, the covers still bunched around him, and his eyes zoned in on the bottle in my hand. “I should’ve guessed you meant that kind of drink.”

I settled next to him and held the bottle out to him. “Want some?”

“No, I’m good.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

I brought the bottle to my lips, pouring drop after drop into my mouth. Chenle grabbed the bottle from me and whiskey spilled on the white sheets. I stared at him angrily. “Hey!”

“I think that’s enough,” he said, placing the bottle on the nightstand.

I slumped against him, closing my eyes. “How are you so calm?” Tears sprung to my eyes and my voice cracked.

“I’m mature.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. I buried my face in his neck.

“That’s not funny,” I said, but I couldn’t make out the words I had said. Chenle probably couldn’t either.

“It’s killing me, too,” he said softly. “I just don’t know how to show it.”

“You could cry.” I sniffled and rubbed my nose with my knuckles. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

“I don’t want to. It’s too childish.”

I laughed. “Naturally.”

We stayed cuddled like that until the sun rose and morning light spilled in through the windows. Chenle’s soft breaths filled my ears and I watched him, finding comfort in the face I had come to know in the arena. I didn’t want to think about how sick that was.

You’re the only one who understands.

“You should sleep,” Chenle said groggily without opening his eyes. Did he know I was staring at him? “We’ll be home in a few hours.”

“What if they’re scared of us?” I asked quietly. “What if they don’t accept us?”

“We have each other and that’s all that matters.” He pulled me closer and I rested my head under his chin. He kissed my hair and rested his head against the pillow. “Now, sleep.”

“Will you dance with me?”

“What?”

“I’m going to live for them,” I said. “I’m going to live for all of them.”

“I’ll dance with you.”

I smiled, but I still felt empty. “Can I have another drink?”

“Will you sleep?”

“Yes.”

Chenle groaned as he sat up and handed me the bottle. I took a few gulps, put it back on the nightstand, and waited for him to fall asleep. When his soft breaths filled the room again, I carefully reached for the remote and turned the Games back on. I studied everything—their clothes, their hairstyles, their eyes. Their souls possessed me and I cried for each of them.

They haunt me every night…

I repeated their names over and over again in my head.

... and I let them.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

My Maribat Betrothal AU: Take Two

Okay so people like that post that is more of a train wreck produced by my sleep-deprived brain. I expanded on it and added some changes. Fair warning: Most of my ML and DC knowledge came from Maribat fics, a few episodes and the DCU movies like son of Batman. I have Mari's pov and background stuff written and it needs some editing. Anyways, enjoy <3

It is not a continuation but: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

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

PART 1

Damian groaned.

He was not having a good day.

First, Father decided to pair him with Todd, TODD of all people, for patrol.

Second, while doing a stake-out for the warehouse near the docks which might be used as storage for criminal activity and enduring Red Hood's annoying taunts, they both were knocked out by tranquilizers and his mother's face was the last thing he had remembered seeing.

"Don't worry, little one. You are just fulfilling your duties as heir to the Demon's Head. Then, all will be perfect." She had said, just before he fully lost consciousness.

Third, he woke up to being chained up with a major headache. Taking a bearing of his surroundings, the room he was imprisoned in had two exits, an iron door and a window that had the view of his childhood home. He was dressed in wedding ensembles of the League of Shadows. Red Hood was chained up next to him as well but unlike him, still had his suit and helmet on. Glancing to the other side, he saw a raven-haired girl, chained up and dressed in the black and gold robes of a bride. She had also retained consciousness and was staring at him.

Bluebell eyes met his piercing green.

His betrothal was petite with Asian features. She had freckles dotting her button nose and rosy cheeks.

She is fragile and will break easily, he thought. Why did his mother want him to marry such a weakling?

"Savez-vous où nous sommes? (Do you know where we are?)" Her voice was sweet and trembling with fear. Her eyes were wide and seemed filled with innocence yet carrying great sadness. She was an Angel, an ordinary girl, not fit for this harsh and unforgiving world she was forcefully going to get married to.

She opened her mouth to ask another question and suddenly, she went limp, appearing to be unconscious. Damian furrowed his brows in confusion. Why did she-

A moment later, he heard footsteps approaching and the iron door opened to reveal his mother.

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

Jason woke up to the sight of the Bitch Talia and Demon Spawn, face to face, glaring at each other.

Talia broke the tense silence.

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Married? The Demon Spawn is getting married?!

Jason saw through his helmeted vision, a girl about Damian's age, chained up like them but not yet awake. He raised his hand and saw the shackles around his wrists. The chains were connected to the wall. He experimentally yanked the chains, drawing Talia’s attention.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Jason said vehemently.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Talia stood up and grabbed Ladybug’s(?) hair and yanked so that her eyes met the girl's. The girl, who unfortunately was going to be the Demon Spawn's bride, lets out a cry and starts to tear up. Jason felt anger at how she was being treated, seeing the girl as a little sister already.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Demon Spawn growled out. The girl starts babbling in French. From the little French Jason knows, she was begging for mercy.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.” Damian spat out.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection." Talia countered, letting go of the girl.

Miraculous? Guardian? What the hell?

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

The mother and son begin to bicker. Damian refusing to marry and Talia trying to change his mind.

“Yes, both have to be willing to be married but the curse placed on both of you will ensure that you will agree.”

The dark haired girl had stopped crying and started whispering in a strange language when the fight started, fiddling with the silver ring she wore. Jason saw a terrifying smile crossed the face of the girl across him that chilled him to the bones. Later, a black blur came out of her robes and went through the door. He wondered if he imagined that before he was a determined glint in her eyes.

He blinked.

Talia was choking on the chains that were previously chained to the wall and were now around her neck. Fortunately for them, Talia had closed the door after her entrance and the guards most likely to be stationed outside didn’t storm into the cell. The girl whispered something in Talia's ear, making the woman's eyes widen with what could be fear.

The experienced assassin struggled to get free and gain an upper hand on the girl but was unsuccessful, passing out from the lack of oxygen and strangely strong grip of the small girl.

What happened next was surprising. She breathed hard on her shackles which instantly disintegrated into flakes of rust.

Holy Shit! Demon Spawn's girl is magic. Jason knows his mouth was hanging open under his helmet at that realization. Damian seems to be in the same state.

Talia didn't have the keys to the locks. Being crafty like that. Bitch

"Call me Lady." she said in lightly accented English as she summoned black orbs at the tip of her hands. “Stay still.”

She then proceeds to place her hands on Jason’s shackles, turning them into nothing more than specks.

"I am Red Hood." said Jason, rubbing his wrists.

"The little shit here," as he kicked Damian's leg, " is-"

"Damian Al Ghul" she said the last name with venom. She moved on to Damian's bonds. "Son of that bitch over there, grandson of Ra's, demon heir, blah blah blah. Hold still, mon mignon. I am sure you don't want to lose a hand."

Damian stopped moving at that, due to the pet name or fear Jason couldn’t tell but by the red at the tips of his ear, it could be the former. And she used her powers to free him.

Lady somehow managed to use what remained of the chains to hog tie Talia up.

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

“How do we get out?” Damian asked, inspecting the blade that he flinched from his mother.

“Hey, kit.” A nasally voice called out. “I checked out the place we are in. Like you asked. The way to the Throne room is heavily guarded and they seem to think old Ra’s the target. The Pits are guarded too but they are nothing you can’t handle.”

“What is that?” Jason shrieked.

“Thanks, Plagg, you will get that camembert danish when we get back. This is a kwami, a god of sorts and his thing is destruction so I wouldn’t insult him if I were you. He likes to go by Plagg”, answered Lady, which doesn’t clear up Jason’s confusion.

“So, Pigtails, what’s the plan?” The floating, black cat-shaped god(?) asked.

“I was thinking of destroying the Pits to give Al Ghul a middle finger and call Maman to use the Horse to get home.”

“We need Tikki to get rid of it..”

“I will just tell Maman to bring the earrings.”

Damian snorted, “That sounds like a foolish plan. You are insane and not strong enough to take on the League alone, despite having a ‘god’ of destruction at your side. This Tikki or magic earrings will destroy the Pits, many have tried. And sorry to disappoint but no horse can make it up the mountainside of Nanda Parbat.”

“Have to agree with Demon Spawn here and I rarely do that. Your plan sounds insane, Pixie. You are just one girl. Let us help, we know the League better than you. We can come up with a better one.” Jason was worried for the girl, she was crazy if she thought her plan would work.

Lady smirked, “It is a perfectly sound plan. I know what I am talking about. Despite the weak girl act, I am no Damsel in distress. After this is all over, we will split our ways and hopefully, never see each other again.”

“We can’t separate. My mother said there is a curse that will ‘make us fall in love.’” Damian said, using air quotes. “You need to come with us so we can get someone to break it.”

“Fine. But I need to do something before I am coming with you. Plagg, Claws out.”

Bright green light flashed around her and she was now dressed in a black bodysuit with green linings. It was armoured at the chest, knees and elbows. (Add whatever details you want, I can’t do it. Jacket, designs, use your imagination) Her gloves were claws-like, reminding them of Selina and there was a belt carrying some vials, pouches and throwing stars. Her hair was now longer and braided and seemed to move on its own. Cat ears were attached to her head. Her eyes were changed so the sclera were the same shade of blue as her iries and the pupils were slitted like a cat. A black domino mask framed her face. Two ten-inch daggers appeared out of thin air in her hands.

The transformed Lady did the inhuman feat of kicking the door open. The assassins stationed outside were immediately knocked out by Lady.

“Well, are you coming or not?” She called out, before running down the corridor. Jason patted his shocked brother’s shoulder, “You doing okay there, demon spawn?”

“Tch, Let’s go, Todd.” Damian replied, trying to get rid of that funny feeling in his chest.

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Chapter 1

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of sex, 18+,hitting, sad shit, break up, heart break, angst, cursing

Chapter Summary: reader and Lee breakup.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 //Chapter 3

The world felt as if it were shattering around you, crumbling beneath your feet like the rapture was upon you. Honestly, if the world did come to an end right now you’d be elated. At least you wouldn’t have to deal with your broken heart anymore.

You sat against a wall in your room, wallowing in your own self petty. It’d be three days since Lee Bodecker had broken things off with you. He had said that you were hurting his campaign, that he still loved you but needed a woman of power to help him become sheriff of this godforsaken town.

Lee had taken you out in the same field he took you to every time y’all made love. He kissed you so passionately, held you so closely. If you weren’t so caught up in the way his hands felt against your bare skin, you would’ve noticed how distraught he was the entire time he made love to you. It was his way of saying goodbye before he actually said goodbye. After he’d broken up with you, you felt disgusting and violated.

You’d never felt like that with Lee. He was your deputy and sinner in disguise. He was your rock and your soft place to fall. When the tears finally fill, the most empty feeling you’d ever felt emerged in your gut. One day you thought you were gonna be Mrs. Lee Bodecker. You daydreamed constantly of your wedding day and sharing a bed with the man you loved for the rest of your life ‘til you were old and gray. To know now that dream will always remain a dream.. that’s what hurt the most.

After Lee drove you home, you sat in your room for three days straight, not even coming out for supper. Your momma tried to convince you to eat and it worked once on the second day, until you threw up right after.

She didn’t understand. She’d never been in love, not really. Not love like you and Lee had. People told y’all all the time how rare and beautiful your love for one another was and you agreed. Just looking back on those memories made you sick. You listened in awe of how beautiful your love was not knowing Lee would only break your heart days later.

Today was Sunday, the lord's day, and usually you never wanted to go to church, but today you really didn’t want to go. The whole town, including Lee and his new arm candy, would be there. It’s the first time you’d be seeing Lee since he dropped you off. It was too soon, especially since you knew he’d already moved on.

As you sat with your head between your knees, your momma barged through your bedroom door.

“Jesus, girl. Why aren’t you up and ready to go? Church starts in an hour and you aren’t gonna make me late again.” She stomped over to your closet and shuffled through your dresses.

“Momma.. I- I’m not ready. I can’t see… him with her. I just ain’t ready for that kinda humiliation.” You sighed, trying to reason with your Bible-thumpin momma.

“Oh, no. You’ve embarrassed me enough this week. Disappearin’ for three whole days over a boy? You’re pathetic. You know, back in my day, we didn’t get to sit around and sulk the days away. No. We had to carry on like everything was fine and that’s what you’re gonna do. Now, get dressed.” She threw you a dress, one of your favorites actually. It was a teal blue, babydoll dress that you usually saved for special occasions, but you weren’t feeling very special at the moment and now you were just pissed off.

You stood and came face-to-face with your momma, “I’m not going. You have no idea how I feel. You can’t. You’ve never felt love the way we had it, Momma. No one ever loved you or me the way I love Lee. You couldn’t possib-“

Just then you felt a sharp sting against your cheek as your momma slapped you across the face.

“Not. Another. Word. You will be dressed and waitin for me at the car in ten minutes. No poutin’ and no sulkin’ in the pews. I don’t wanna hear another word about that boy.” She turned to exit your room but turned around to give you one last dig to the heart, “And, honey, a man in love would never have done what he did to you. Remember that next time you wanna preach to me about love.” With that she left your room. Your cheek still stung from the unexpected hit to the face. Your momma was cruel but she’d never hit you before.

The slap, in a way, was kind of refreshing. For a split second you’d totally forgotten about Lee. Only for a second, though. His crystal blue eyes and cheshire lips never leave your thoughts completely. You shook your head in defeat, trying to erase him from your mind. It didn’t work, but you took a deep breath and began getting ready.

//

The church parking lot was full when you and your momma pulled in. Rickety old trucks to brand spankin new, brightly colored cars littered the dusty lot. You spotted Lee’s car immediately, thankfully he was already inside.

The whole town came to this church, which wasn’t that many people. Nevertheless, everybody knew everybody and, even if you didn’t care, everybody knew everybody’s dirty laundry. Old Man Karl got pulled over last week for a DUI, Nancy from the library cheated on her husband with his brother and.. oh yeah, Lee Bodecker dumped his long time girlfriend for the mayor's daughter.

Lee and yours breakup was the talk of the town. You were the fresh, new gossip in this boring as hell town and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You couldn’t get two steps into the church without being bombarded by women you didn’t want to know but also knew too much about, asking if you were alright and that they’d pray for you on this ‘beautiful, glorious Sunday morning’. Yeah, same shit different day, different person.

One woman stayed to chat with your momma, so you went to find your seat. Your usual spot was next to Lee and naturally that’s where you headed, only to be greeted by Lee and His new girlfriend, Laura-Jean Mancon. She was one of those girls who’d been pretty her whole life. Blind hair, blue eyes and a huge rack. Everybody thought she’d go into modeling or start an acting career but she never did. Instead, she stayed and was now going to marry Lee. In your eyes, that’s the best path she could’ve taken. You’d take her place any day.

“Mornin’ Y/n.” Lee cleared his throat, unable to make eye contact with you.

“L-“ You went to say his name but found you couldn’t. It was only one syllable, only three letters and it pained you to even think about, let alone say aloud. You cleared your throat, “Laura-Jean, nice to see you again.”

Laura-Jean said nothing in return. She just hummed, waiting for you to talk away.

“I guess I’ll go.. find me a new seat.” You took a deep breath when you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, again. Lee stared straight forward the whole time you stood there, too cowardly to even look you in the eyes. Some Sheriff he’ll be.

You scanned the crowd of people and found your momma in the front row, of course. You made your way up the aisle and took your seat next to her. The chorus sang their hems and the preacher clapped his way in on the last versus.

“How are we doin’ on this fine Sunday mornin’?” he drawled to the crowd. He got an assortment of greetings in return.

“I said ‘HOW ARE WE DOIN ON THIS BRIGHT N’ SHINY SUNDIE MORNIN’?’.”

“GOOD” the people shouted in return. You could hear Laura-Jean giggling over something but you wouldn’t dare look back. Lee always made church bearable, making wise cracks at the preaches expense.

“Now, today I’d like to talk a little bit about love. Of course, we’re always talkin’ about love when it comes to our lord and savor, Jesus Christ. But just for a moment, it ain’t about him. No. This mornin’ I’m preachin’ to you about young love.”

Here we go.

“It comes and goes so fast, but when you have it, it’s one of the most beautiful things this world can offer you.. especially when you put a little Jesus in it.” The church laughed. You knew where this was going. Your stomach churned as you sunk down into the pew.

“I’d like to ask the newly engaged folks in the crowd to come and join me up here. You know who you are, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Lee Bodecker.”

Your heart felt as if it were going to explode, a tear escaped through your lashes and you quickly wiped it away.

They walked up hand in hand, smiling for cheek to cheek. How could he be so happy, so calm after only being broken up for less than a week? Did he ever love you? Really love you. Like you loved him. Obviously not because you could never, in good conscience do this to him. You couldn’t stand on a stage wrapped arm in arm with another man while Lee sat, just as you were now, devastated and totally distraught.

“So tell us,” the preach beamed. “When’s the big day.”

Lee looked at you with a pained expression as Laura-Jean answered the preach.

“May 21st”

Your breathing heavies at the reply. Turning to your momma you whispered, “Momma, that’s in two weeks.”

“I know that. Now, hush.” She side eyed you with a full smile still pressed to her lips. Even your own mother didn’t seem to care about your feelings. You sat there, listening to Laura-Jean go on and on about their ‘big day’. Tears streamed down your face and you let them. You’d given up on trying to hide how hurt you really felt. When you looked up, Lee stared straight at you. He wasn’t crying but his pain ridden face told you everything. One look at him and you couldn’t breathe anymore. You stood abruptly, all eyes were on you and Laura-Jean had stopped talking.

“I- excuse me.” You said before booking it out the back door. Lee hollered out, asking you to wait. It was too late. You were half way out the door and couldn’t stand to be in that room for another second.

Your feet stomped against the grave, dust clouding up in your wake as you made your way to the road.

“Y/n!” Lee called out after you.

“Go away. I have nothing to say to you, L- fuck.” You cursed, trying desperately to get away from him.

“I said wait, goddammit.” He growled, capturing your bicep in his large hand.

“Let go of me!” You whined sounding out of breath.

“Not until you listened to what I have to say.”

“What, Lee? What could you possibly have to say?”

“I- I.. dammit. I know I put you in a tough position but-“

“A tough position?” You repeated.

“Let me finish.” He sighed and released your arm from his grasp, “I know I hurt you. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, but, doll, this is it. This is my only chance at becoming Sheriff. You know how hard I’ve worked to get here and you’ve always been so supportive of my dream. I- I just thought.. out of everyone you would understand.”

Your skin burned as you imagined smoke blowing from your ears. Did he really just say that? That you should understand the break up and go on with your life like nothing happened like he is? You stood there frozen, breathing heavier and heavier as your brain tried to come up with a coherent response while trying to also remain a lady.

“I- I still love you. You know that, right?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and wiping a stray tear away.

You flinched at his burning touch and slapped his hand away, “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again. I don’t love you anymore. I can’t love you. Shit… seeing you was the best part of my day and now I can’t even look at you without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I can’t even say your name anymore. Everything about you, now, fills me with so much pain and dread. So if that’s what your love is, keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Doll,” A tear ran down his cheek, you now being the one who’s breaking his heart. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear.” He sniffles.

“Well, you did. I’m in so much pain.” You sobbed, “I’m in so much pain and I have no one to go to because you were my person. You have left me completely empty and utterly alone.”

“Y/n, I-“

“Save it, Bodecker. I’m done talking to you.”

Lee didn’t chase after you this time. He let the tears stream down his face as he watched you walk away. He was just as heartbroken as you but couldn’t show it., not when he was so close to winning this election. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and headed back towards the church. He knew you just needed time and that he’d still see you around town.

Seeing you today took his breath away. You wore your favorite dress that he bought you for your birthday so long ago. You didn’t have on any makeup, which he loved. You were so naturally beautiful and he did still love you with every piece of his shattered heart. He’d eventually come up with a plan to get you back, but for now he would respect your space.

//

Once you’d gotten home and shut the door, you couldn’t help but scream at the top of your lungs. Hoping for some sort of release from all this heartache you felt. Telling him you couldn’t love him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You sat on the floor in the same position you were in before you left; head between your knees and sobbing like a baby.

There was no escaping him in this town. There was church and the grocery store and the diner you worked at part time. He was everywhere. He’d come in every morning you worked to have coffee with you. He had been a part of every little thing you do in your daily routine for as long as you can remember.

There was never a time you weren’t together. It was always just you and him. He was the one who held you when you were sad, but where was he now when you needed him most?

To you, there was only one way to fix this; get the hell out of here. Completely leave town and start anew somewhere else. You have an aunt that lives right outside of town. You can stay there until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you got up. Your aunt agreed to the plan and said you could stay with her for as long as you needed when you called her. You packed a small duffle bag and waited for her to pick you up.

When she did finally pull up out front, you hopped in the car and she drove off, leaving the dusty ole town you called home for so long. You took in a deep breath as you drove towards your new life. No Lee, no momma, no worries.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime

(Dm me to be added to taglist)

[aseioh]

Of Cakes and Late Celebrations

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be posted on Mother's day. But just like this fic, I got derailed and ended up being late. (picture taken from the internet)

It was Mother's day.

Or to be precise it will be Mother's day in 15 hours 25 minutes. It shouldn't be a problem for Alcina, she usually just buys something from the Duke to give to Mother Miranda.

Unfortunately, such a thing is not possible right now. The Duke was delayed with his routine arrival at the castle opening, something about a spooked horse and lycans trying to get a nibble.

Honestly she lost interest after the word delayed was spoken through the phone. How is she going to remedy this. The gift itself was one of the finest silk she was able to obtain, she was sure Mother would appreciate a new ritual robe.

This is bad. To show up without a gift on this special day. She was sure she would be made a mockery during the gathering. Whats worst was that fool Heisenberg would be the first to lead with his pathetic insults.

Just the thought made Alcina's blood boil.

”I should send Bela to switch that man's shampoo with dog shampoo. Although the man still smells like wet dog. No. I'll think of something more devious.“

But back to the matter at hand. It's almost Mother's day and she doesn’t have a gift. Taking a deep drag off her cigarette, she considers her dwindling options.

At western part of the village

Donna is also facing a similar problems.

"What do you mean you're not coming?! Where am I supposed to find a present at this hour?!" Angie's raspy voice filtered through the phone "do you know how hard it is to find a 1st edition book on occult and rituals."

"Apologies Miss Angie, but the horse spooked and the carriage suffered a broken wheel. Even if the servants manage to haul themselves your house to the Duke's location and back it would still be too late." The main servant said trying to sound as apologetic as he can come across.

"This would not do" Donna said finally in her normal voice.

Somewhere inside the Stronghold.

Karl Heisenberg was having a meltdown.

"YOU STUPID LYCANS! I GAVE YOU ONE JOB AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN DO IT RIGHT!!" Heisenberg paces around the small assembly hall. Ten Lycans looked very apologetic, although it was very hard to tell from their looks. One even lets out a soft whimper.

“I told you to stall The Duke for a while. I didn’t said to derail him completely. The man has a package for me, now how am I supposed to get it!?” Heisenberg seethes.

His plan was a simply one really. Stall The Duke so that he would arrive at Castle Dimitrescu late, that way Alcina would not get her package and present it to Mother Miranda. That would show her, a little payback for calling him a child.

What he didn’t count on was the utter incapability of the Lycans to follow simple directions. Now even he doesn’t have a gift. Oh Miranda’s gonna blow a gasket.

“Augh... I hate the consequences of my actions” He lamented

 At Moreau’s Reservoir

“NOOOOOOO!! That’s not fair, that’s not fair!!!” Moreau starts throwing his stuff on the floor. He had finally saved up his money to buy Mother Miranda that nice jewelry that would go perfectly with her black wings.

“Someone’s gonna pay” He vows to take revenge on the Lycans responsible for his problem.

 After all his pet fish has been hungry for some Lycan meat.

 Castle Dimitrescu (13 hours until Mother’s day)

“I have gathered you here today for a very important meeting” Alcina starts looking at the sad (Donna) and tearful (Moreau) faces of her so called ‘siblings’. Heisenberg is surprisingly calm which puts Alcina on high alert, but lets it slide in favour of the more pressing matter

“We have a big problem. The Duke will not arrive on time for Mother’s Day. That means all the presents we bought for Mother will not arrive”

“We need a solution, any ideas?”  

“We kill the Lycans responsible and feed them to my fish”

“Yes Moreau, but that’s after we solve this problem” Donna said and tries to placate a Moreau by patting him at the back.

“Whoa, that’s a bit dark but I like it. And Moreau is right, we’re gonna make fish food out of those Lycans” “Better off those basdards, after all I don’t want to implicate myself” Heisenberg thinks

“People, you’re missing the point here” Alcina says pinching her nose to ward off an incoming headache. “Listen, we don’t have time. You know Mother Miranda, She’ll say she wasn’t really expecting something and then low-key punishes us for missing the day. We don’t want a repeat of the 1967 incident do we?”

Moreau whimpers from the trauma.

Donna goes into a slight trance and starts to shake.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough” Heisenberg stands. “Why don’t we just bake something and say it’s from all of us”

 *beat*

“Do you know how to bake?”

“I work at the Factory, I make steel molds for a living how hard could it be?”

“That doesn’t answer my question Heisenberg”

“We could make a small doll” Donna pipes up

“Sorry Donna that would still take time. And I don’t think we have the right materials on such short notice.” Alcina says

“For someone who’s looking for a solution you sure are shooting down all of them”

“Because it’s not feasible Heisenberg.” Alcina huffs “Can you gather all the materials in less than 10 hours? No? Of course not”

“And I keep telling you just BAKE A CAKE!”

“I don’t know how to bake, child! I’m a BLOODY COUNTESS not hired help” Alcina bellows at Heisenberg

“I know how to bake”

Everyone turns to Donna.

“Really?”

“Of course, I used to watch my Mother bake cakes before the accident. I just need help decorating. I never got a hang of that part” Donna beams with pride as she explains the basics of baking

“And we can gather the ingredients no problem. You have a pantry here somewhere right Alcina?” Moreau asked

“Of course. We always have a full pantry for the servants.” At that Heisenberg looks at Alcina with a hint of disbelief

“What? We need them healthy to serve us. I’m not a complete monster.” Alcina defends

“In any case we should start early. It takes time to cool and decorating is hard”

 Castle Kitchen (12 hours 30 minutes before Mother’s Day)

It was truly a sight to see. In a way it was enough for the Castle’s servants to wet themselves in fear when they saw the 4 Lords gathered at the kitchen in various forms of concentration. Needless to say, everyone was warned to steer clear of the kitchen for now.

Moreau was together with Donna supporting her with mixing the wet ingredients. Meanwhile, at the other side of the cooking station Alcina and Heisenberg are charge of measuring out the dry ingredients.

“You need to be precise, don’t put too much. Remember what Donna said and look at the damn recipe”

“I know what I’m doing you damn woman. I’m all about precision. Why don’t you move away and get that mixing bowl at the top shelf.” Heisenberg grouched

“I’m not your servant. And I certainly will not start fetching stuff for you” Alcina shot back

“Alcina, we need to work together. We don’t have time and you’re the tallest of us all. Please cooperate with Karl just this once. Please?” Donna implored

“Once. I’m helping him for this one time only. When I get my hands on the Lycan responsible for this problem, I’m gutting him and throwing him at Moreau’s reservoir.” At Donna’s admonishment of Alcina, Heisenberg gives a shit eating grin, showing some rather very pointy canines.

“And Heisenberg, stop provoking Alcina.” Donna adds

“Fine, you’re no fun Donna”

Suffice to say, the baking went well. Who knew that the 4 Lords working together would be a great success? If only Mother Miranda saw her children working together peacefully she might have had a heart attack and thought that she suffered one as well.

Or she might have been dreaming.

 Castle Kitchen (6 hours before Mother’s Day)

“Alright, the cake has cooled down completely, So what color will be the icing?” Donna asked

“Yellow” “Cream” “Light Blue” the other three said simultaneously.

 *beat*

“Light blue? Really? Not everything needs to be manly Heisenberg”

“And not everything needs to be boring like your color, Alcina”

“It should be yellow, like Mother’s sunny smile” Moreau explains

“And in which ever universe has Mother ever smiled like the sun?” Heisenberg counters Moreau

“Hey now. No need for that tone!”

“Tsk, sorry Moreau” Heisenberg apologizes to a quiet Moreau

“Fine, let’s do pastel yellow it’s easier for the eyes anyway” Donna supplies, getting ready to start coating the cake with the yellow cream

 Inside the Sanctuary

“Happy Mother’s day”

“We hope you like the cake Mother”

“Yes, we poured out our love in baking it. I hope you appreciate it” Heisenberg said

“Why thank you loves. This is a wonderful surprise. And Moreau said that you all worked together in baking it. How wonderful!” Mother Miranda said grateful for once that her children worked together without collateral damage (that she knew of).

“Although Heisenberg, I heard something interesting from Urias” Mother Miranda looks pointedly at Heisenberg, who for some reason starts to sweat and turn pale.

‘oh shit’ “Really Mother? Good news I hope” Heisenberg tries to bluff his way out.

“Why it was quite peculiar really. He said that you got 10 of his Lycans for a special project. I wasn’t aware that you have some side projects”

 The 3 Lords turn to Heisenberg

“Wait what?”

“I KNEW IT!!” Alcina unsheathes her claws

“You’re responsible for this mess in the first place!!”

“Really guy relax, if anything I just proved that we need more than one traveling merchant in the village for a successful and on time delivery” Heisenberg starts to carefully ease his way to the nearest exit.

 “GET HIM”

In the end, Alcina was more than ready to feed Heisenberg to Moreau’s pet fish. Only Donna stopped her, citing Moreau would probably be inconsolable if his pet got indigestion from all the metal.

And that is how Heisenberg saw himself in doggy jail for a week along with his Lycan cohorts. Mother Miranda did get her Mother’s day gifts from her children although a bit later than expected.

 And the cake?

 The cake was surprisingly delicious.

[mae-gi-writes]

From Now On | Kevin (The Boyz)

You break down with Kevin when a loved one passes away.

Genre: angst, fluff, sad, mention of death, Kevin moon is an angel 

A/N: for a very special soul. <3 I love you. Stay strong. 

----

Numb. Empty. Void.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“My sympathies.” 

“She was an amazing woman.” 

A hand on your shoulder. You don’t bother looking up, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.” 

No, you think to yourself. You can’t. Because right now, I am walking through hell. 

There is an abundance of hushed murmurs that fill the room where your mother lays in her casket, looking so ethereally beautiful and serene with her eyes closed and a tinted pink flush scattered over her cheeks. But that’s all a lie, for you know exactly without looking too closely that her chest isn’t rising and falling as its supposed to be. 

“Y/N,” another hand on your shoulder, though this time you recognize the sadness etched in your older brother’s tone. Turning to see Hyunjae’s composed features, what gives him away is the puffiness of his eyes, the scarlet tint to his nose. 

Almost instinctively, your hand reaches out to grasp his arm. A reminder that you are here, with him. Next to him. 

“I can’t find the sandwiches,” he croaks out in the shell of your ear, quiet enough so that no one can hear, “could you help me find them? I think the guests--” 

At this point you can already feel his voice choke up and trip over itself. You squeeze his arm in a gentle manner, “I got it,” you send him what hopes is a sweet smile, though it can hardly pull up your cheeks, before slipping away intot the kitchen. 

It’s impossible to navigate through the swarm of bodies currently littering the corridors. You maneuver yourself to the best of your ability but soon get yourself trapped between a few older women who claim to be your mother’s old classmates, which does not help the tide of pain wrenching through your chest and practically snapping your heartstrings in two every single time the reminder echoes through your mind. 

“She was such a dear! So talented! You look just like her you know,” one of the ladies say with overzealous flair and with tears dotting her eyes. It makes you feel sick, though you manage to plaster a shaky smile.

“It’s sad that I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her,” another sniffled into her tissue. 

“It must be ten times worse for you, Y/N,” they throw you a bunch of watery-eyed gazes and it takes all of your self-control not to scream in their faces to leave you the fuck alone.

You take a step away, “Sorry, I’m just really busy. I’ll talk to you guys later--”

“But wait Y/N, we want to know more,” one of them cry out. 

The other tugs onto your arm, “we can’t believe it happened. And she was so young too.” 

Your brain is screaming at you to run away. To hide. Anything to stop the slow pain spreading through your limbs and causing you to freeze up, your heart clenching and your lungs squeezing so hard through your chest. It’s hard to breathe. Like drowning underwater. Ears blocked and through raw.

You don’t realize that you’ve stumbled back a few steps their arms pull you forward. The women keep on talking over you in hurried sopranos, their voices bouncing around in your skull and causing your head to pound. 

It’s too hard. It’s too much. The memory of your mother’s face surges up through you. The way she died, unfairly, too young. Tears gather before you know it and you can’t breathe and can’t breathe can’t breathe --

“Sorry, I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit.” 

A hand clamps down on your shoulder, pulls you away. The voices fall away and you take this moment to focus yourself on the warmth of the hand gently holding on to you as its owner steers you away until you are clearly out in the terrace.

It is only then that you manage to let out a shaky exhale. Your headache clears, just a little bit.

And it is only when he speaks that your eyes slide up to the said voice in question.

Kevin gazes down at you wordlessly, maroon orbs soft in the dim afternoon light. 

“Hey, you okay?”

Gratefulness rushes to your heart, just as your eyes fill with unexpected tears. 

You burst into sobs. 

It takes only a second for Kevin’s arms to wrap around your shoulders before he tugs you over to his chest, and as you bawl your eyes out at the unfairness of the world that you can’t even say goodbye to that one person who’s been present from the moment you were born, your hands find purchase onto his shirt if only in a pathetic attempt to stop yourself from getting overwhelmed by the amount of emotion that rips through your throat in the form of hoarse whimpers. 

“Shh,” Kevin mumbles a bunch of sweet nothings in your ear and though you loathe the fake sympathy that comes with a crowd that barely knows you and much less what you are currently going through, you can’t find the energy to push your boyfriend away.

After all, you do trust him more than yourself. For once, you allow your walls to come down. 

You cry and cry and cry. 

You cry, until there seems to be nothing left of your tears, until your tear ducts have dried out and until your entire body seems to be shaking with barely restrained tiredness. 

And through it all, Kevin holds on to you. He holds on like he’s never planning to let go, and your hands clench a little tighter, you hold him a little closer. 

A while later, after almost all guests have vacated your house and after you’ve managed to nod at Hyunjae when asked whether you’re doing okay, you manage to retreat to your room with Kevin in tow, his hand holding onto yours and providing you with a warmth that brings you comfort. 

He sits beside you on your bed as you both watch the sun set in the distance, pinkish hues dominating the sky and painting it in various shades of golden orange and red.

It’s beautiful and yet saddening at the same time to see the first day go by without your mother’s gentle voice floating from the kitchen. The emptiness lingers in the air, a void that mimics the hole in your heart. 

I miss you.

More tears slowly well up at the corner of your eyes and you quickly wipe them away adamantly. You’ve cried enough these past few hours. Enough is enough.

I’m sorry I never told you how much I loved you.

Kevin’s thumb rubs comforting circles over the back of your knuckles. In the silence, you allow yourself to bask in his presence. 

That is really all you need for now. Nothing more. Nothing else.

Just time. Time to heal. Time to suffer. Time to just exist until the pain ebbs away.

I’m sorry I took you for granted.

“Y/N,” Kevin’s soft murmur reaches your ears, “you want to talk about it?” 

You shake your head before biting your lip so hard you taste blood.

“Okay,” he mumbles. That’s when he beckons you into his arms, an embrace that you gladly accept as you crawl into his lap and curl up -- head pressed against the crook of his neck and hands held close to your chest -- as his head comes to a rest atop yours, but not before pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. 

“You know,” his words are muffled against your temple, lips moving against your skin with lingering warmth, “you don’t have to hold it in with me right? I don’t--I care about you. I don’t want you thinking that I can’t handle it. Because that’s what I’m here for.” 

God. This man. A sob almost crawls out of your throat. So you nod, grip his shirt a little tighter. His scent washes over you, a mixture of pine and a dash of coffee mixed in with a boyish smell that comes from his deodorant. 

 It makes you feel at home. At ease. At least with Kevin, there’s no playing pretend.

You’re unsure whether you fell asleep in his embrace, but before you know it your eyes are drowsily fluttering open to meet Kevin’s back. You go to call out his name, only for the smell of fried food hitting your nostrils and turning your head to catch sight of the plate of untouched food by your nightstand, your heart can’t help but melt a little at his thoughtfulness. 

Noticing your movement, the said young man turns before smiling down at you softly, “hey,” he murmurs gently, practically throwing his phone on the other side of the bed and crawling over to where you lie, “you hungry? I brought food. Or rather, Hyunjae did.” 

You know you should eat. God knows when was the last time you’d eaten. But the thought causes your stomach to churn slightly and you shake your head.

“But Hyunjae brought your favourite: meat buns,” Kevin pouts ever so slightly, and pairing that with the slight rumble of your stomach makes you cave in. 

So you nod and he grins back at you, quickly scrambling to your bedside so that he can feed you before you can even protest. You find you don’t have the energy to, only watching him peel off the wrapper and break it into small, bite-sized pieces. 

“Ah,” he holds one out to you and you accept it begrudgingly. You’ve never been too fond of being taken care of. But at this precise moment, you can’t find it in yourself to argue, especially since Kevin has been nothing but your pillar of support throughout the last few hours. How you would’ve managed without him, you don’t even know yourself. 

As he feeds you the rest of the bun, he talks aimlessly about the food vlog on youtube that he’s just binge-watched and how he wishes to visit New York someday to be able to try out all these fancy street foods that keep haunting his dreams. Somewhere along the line, you realize that it’s a little easier to swallow, a little easier to smile up at your doting boyfriend talking animatedly while swinging his arms around. He always does that whenever he gets overexcited. 

Right now, he’s moved on to talking about safe driving on roads implemented by AI technology, “seriously though, it’s kind of scary how technology can do everything these days. At this point we’re not going to  have a zombie apocalypse but rather a robot apocalypse. Can you imagine?” 

“Then they’d be easier to kill, wouldn’t they?” you mumble out, and while it is soft and barely coherent, Kevin’s ears perk up at your participation. That’s probably the first word that falls from your mouth ever since you woke up.

“I guess so, unless they’re already programmed with a hundred of ninja combat moves or something,” he shrugs, moves a little closer to wipe off a few bits of flour stuck to the corner of your lips, “maybe they can even google search it and analyze movements within seconds,” he shudders at the thought, “ooh, scary.” 

“Kevin?” 

“Hm?” his eyes peer into yours, coffee-coloured orbs swirling with naked affection, hand pushing away a stray strand from your face. 

When you speak next, you feel a sob catching in the back of your throat, “thank you,” you swallow hard, “for everything.” 

It happens all too fast. The way Kevin’s arms reach out to swallow you up once more in a bone-crushing hug that leaves you breathless, his lips permanently pressed to your forehead before he nuzzles his nose into your cheek. 

“You don’t have to say thank you,” he murmurs in-between the smallest of pecks he litters across your cheekbone, “that’s what I’m here for.” 

The familiar sting of tears cause your eyes to grow glossy, but this time it’s almost as if your own heart feels a little lighter, a little less burdened. Sleeping had done you some good, and eating had appeased the swelling ache in your stomach.

But Kevin. Kevin had definitely patched up a band-aid over your heart. 

"I know it’s going to be hard, these few months to come,” Kevin continues in a gentle murmur, “but from now on, if you feel like you cant handle it, you have me.” 

Your murmur out a soft agreement, but that doesn’t seem to cut it, for Kevin’s fingers clasp your jaw to tilt it upwards. Your eyes slide to his, intense and persistent. 

“Y/N, I got you. Okay?” 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

He keeps on watching you for a few more silent seconds. Satisfied then, he pulls you back against him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck once more and placing a chaste kiss right upon your left eyelid, then right eyelid. Then down to peck your lips as your breath stutters out shakily. 

“I’ll be there.” 

It’s a promise. A promise for better days. And hugging him a little tighter, you can’t help but believe in the hope laced through Kevin’s words.

-----

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 20/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall  See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

The incident breeds awkwardness between them for the rest of the morning.  Katherine moves out of his arms eventually and he helps her to gather her clothes.  She keeps her eyes down as she dresses, leaving things unbuttoned and untied, and doesn’t look at him.

“I just need a few minutes to put some fresh clothes on,” she says.  “And then I’ll see to breakfast.”

“Take your time.  I’ll need to check on the boys and see if the storm did any damage.”

She nods once and then she slips out the door.  He wonders if he should go after her or say something, but he doesn’t know what to say that he hasn’t already.  He sighs and then dresses for the day.

Melvin and Trevor already have the barn open when he makes it outside.  Richard is repairing a fencepost in the hog pen.  The ground is muddy, but the sky is blue and the sun is bright.  

“How are things?” Mulder asks.

“Everyone pulled through,” Melvin answers.  “Trevor said that them sheeps were noisy little buggers.  Queenie was fit to be tied over their restlessness, but they settled once the rain let up.”

“How did George do?”

“Just fine.  We actually moved the goats into the stable before it got bad and I put ‘em in with George.  They kept good company for each other.”

“Roof held up?”

“Just fine.”

“Good, good.”

“Everything alright with you?”

“Just fine.”  Mulder rubs the back of his head and looks away from Melvin.

“Mmhm.”

With Jesse and Jimmy away, there is just too much to be done for Mulder to dwell on Katherine’s reluctance to let him in.  Whatever happened this morning, it doesn’t change the closeness they shared the night before, that he now knows is possible to have.  He’s not angry, he’s just sad for her and for them.  Whatever Jack Willis did to her, if the man wasn’t already dead, Mulder would kill him.

It takes some time to relocate the livestock back to their pens.  The hogs romp and roll in the mud, ecstatic, ignoring their slop initially in favor of getting dirty.  Katherine rings the breakfast bell as they’re mucking the stables and Mulder sends them in ahead of him.  He doesn’t have much of an appetite anyway.

Katherine jumps up from the table when he comes in and rushes to the stove.  He puts his arm around her and takes the spatula from her hand.  “Go on and sit down,” he says.  “I know how to fix a plate up.”

“The eggs might be cold.  I covered the bacon to keep it warm.”

“That’s my fault.  I’m late.”  He kisses her cheek and sends her away.

Melvin scrutinizes them the whole meal.  He can feel the older man’s eyes on him at times and he catches him looking at Katherine as well.  

“It’s already starting to dry up out there,” Mulder says.  “I think we should send the horses out to pasture today, what do you think?  Let them run off any residual nerves and they might enjoy a nice roll in the mud, though probably not as much as the hogs.”

“You want to run the curry comb through the lot of ‘em at the end of the day, go on ahead,” Melvin says.

Mulder chuckles.  “It’s Saturday.  You boys planning on heading down to the bath house tonight?  Faithful Jenny and Blondie would probably like a nice ride.  That black stallion from the postal team, he handles well with a saddle.”

“Why do you call the horse Faithful Jenny?” Katherine asks.

Richard laughs.  Mulder chuckles around a mouthful of eggs.  Trevor turns a shade of red that would make a ripe tomato jealous.  Melvin coughs into his fist.

“Have you ever heard of Old Faithful in Yellowstone?” Mulder asks.

Katherine shakes her head no.  Mulder takes another stab at his eggs and then wipes his eyes and sits back.

“Old Faithful is a geyser,” he says.  “Some members of an expedition were camped nearby and noticed that she erupted with predictability every ten minutes or so.”

Richard pounds a fist on the table and laughs so hard he doubles over off the bench.  Mulder shakes his head, but has to laugh with him.

“We got Jenny from a rancher nearby that couldn’t take it no more,” Melvin continues where Mulder left off.  “He come ‘round with her and asked if we could just buy her off him for a fair price because he was at his wits end.”

“But, she’s a lovely horse,” Katherine says.

“Oh, yes,” Mulder says.  “She’s a good old gal, she was just also foraging in the wrong places and got herself a bad case of the colic.”

“You’re not gettin’ to the best part,” Richard says.

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Mulder tells him.  “You sure do enjoy the tale.”

“The best part is that when Mr. Miles dropped her off he said, ‘I tell you what, you can set your watch by that horse’s farts, I reckon.  Probably gives Old Faithful a run for her money.’”

“Oh, my.”  Katherine’s cheeks redden for a moment and then the corners of her mouth pick up and her lips quiver like she’s trying to suppress her amusement, but she can’t hold it for long.  Her giggles almost sound like hiccups and she covers her mouth with one hand.  Her shoulders are shaking and she lets go with a full belly laugh that has the whole table roaring in no time.

“She’s on a special diet now so her, uh, troubles have passed,” Mulder says, when the laughter has died down.  “But, we got used to calling her Faithful Jenny and so the name just carries on.”

“Poor Jenny,” Katherine says.

“You’re lucky you never stood downwind of her some years ago,” Richard says.

The table breaks up into laughter once more.

↭

She’s felt anxious and embarrassed for most of the day.  The hilarity at the breakfast table eased some of her tension, but by noon dinner she had a knot in her stomach.  Her misery is self-imposed.  She knows this.  Mulder has been nothing but gentle and tender with her all day and she returns his kindness with silence.

While the men tend to the horses and get ready for their Saturday trek into town, she launders the sheets and the week’s dirty clothes.  There’s a stain on one of Mulder’s undershirts and she realizes it’s the one he used to clean her hands last night.  The thought of what they did makes her breathless.  She has to grip the side of the washtub to keep upright she feels so faint.

She wants so badly to erase the past and move forward.  She wants so badly for this new marriage she has to feel real.  Last night was as real as it could be, but she had to ruin things this morning.  Perhaps she’s mistaking Mulder’s kindness for pity, and she wouldn’t blame him for it.  She’s pathetic and weak and doesn’t deserve all the nice things he’s done for her.

She refuses to dwell on this now.  She has chores to do and meals to prepare.  It’s why she’s here.  Not to fall in love with her own husband.  She gasps and for the second time, has to grip the side of the washtub.  Is she in love?  No, she can’t be.  She hardly knows him.  She only knows that he’s kind, he’s generous, he laughs easy, he has a slight temper, but isn’t violent.  He’s patient, he’s good to his horses and the men that work for him.  He’s good to her.  

She hears the back door close and she startles at the sound and automatically jumps to start scrubbing the undershirt in her hand.  Mulder knocks softly on the side of the washroom door and smiles at her.

“The boys are heading into town,” he says.  “I told them to go ahead and set out early and I thought I’d go ahead and make supper for us tonight.”

“You can cook?”

“I’m hurt that there’s doubt in your tone.”

“I’m not doubting, I’m just…”

“Naturally skeptical, since I have not yet proven my worth to you.”

“You’ve more than proven your worth,” she says, softly, taking the teasing tone out of the conversation.

Mulder smiles at her and reaches out to cup her cheek.  She wants to believe that she is worth the trouble if he can still touch her so fondly and make her feel so cared for.

“Need help with the laundry?” he asks.

“I’m nearly done, just need to get these shirts scrubbed and hang up this last basket to dry.”

“I can do that.”  He squeezes past her to take the basket of damp clothing and then hoists it up over her head to squeeze back out.  “That pulley you had Richard install is just about the most genius thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mulder takes the laundry away and she finishes with the shirts.  She goes out to the back to pin them up and he lets her take over the line.  She gets fresh linens on the beds, does some dusting, and cleans up the washroom.  Before she’s through, she can smell the hearty aroma of meat cooking and hear the sizzle of the skillet.

“Pork chops?” she asks.

“I confess it’s about the only thing I can cook, but I do it well.”

“Should I chop anything?”

“No, Ma’am.  I’ve had potatoes baking for some time and I brought up a jar of applesauce.”

“There are a few corn fritters leftover from dinner that I wrapped.  We could heat those as well.”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Katherine sets the table for two.  The pork chops are delicious.  He shows her how to garnish a baked potato with chopped bacon and bits of chives and cheese, which she’d never seen done before.  She tries to imagine an easy life with him and what it would have been like if only they’d met four years ago.

“Have you given any thought to what you’d like in the expansion?” he asks.

Katherine shakes her head.  “There isn’t anything in particular that I can think of.  I would like...well, I would like the porch to stay the way that it is.  Facing west.  I like watching the sunset.”

“I wouldn’t dream of changing that.  I was thinking I might convert the bunkhouse into a guest house.  And I’d like to have an office built on the other side of the kitchen.  There must be something you’d like though.  A parlor?  Sewing room?  Laboratory?”

She shakes her head at him and then laughs.  “A laboratory?”

“Some place for the science things you enjoy.”

“No, thank you.”  Her smile fades a bit as memories fall on her.  “When I was a little girl, all I used to want was my own bookcase, filled with books, but my father said that reading novels was unladylike and would rot my brain and fill it with uppity ideas.  I had a schoolteacher that did not agree, fortunately, and I did most of my reading in secret, with her help.”

“Is that the same teacher that got you interested in sciences?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a favorite novel?”

“Moby Dick always resonated with me.”

“Dense material for a young person, lady or gent.  How did it resonate?”

“The ship’s captain, Ahab, reminded me very much of my father.”  She closes her eyes for a few moments and then shakes the memories of her childhood from her head.  Her family is not a subject she wishes to think about right now.  “Do you think we could put in a magnolia tree somewhere?”

“I’ve never seen a magnolia out in these parts, but we can find out if the soil is right for it.”

“That’s all I want.”

“I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

She stands then to start clearing the dishes and to clean the kitchen.  Mulder lays a hand on her arm, very gently.

“You could have your own library,” he says.  “A room full of all your favorite books and all the ones you never got to read, but always wanted to.”

“The porch and the tree will be more than enough.”

He lets her go with a bit of reluctance and she goes on with her cleaning.  He heads out to do the evening chores in the barn and stables.  She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the evening.  She is already lying in bed when she hears him come in by the soft tread of his boots on the wood floor that she’s grown accustomed to.  She hears him open his door and there’s a long pause before he closes it.

She twists the wedding ring on her finger around and around.  When she catches herself, she shakes her hands and then starts to do her rosary, but stops that as well.  For nearly her entire life she’s been told that trusting in God and saying her prayers will bring her comfort and peace, but she’s never known it to be comforting at all.  Certainly not in the four years when she could have used it the most.  And she never knew peace until last night when she was with Mulder, so close with him, lying in his arms.

Maybe God led her here, or maybe He didn’t.  Maybe it was fate, like Mulder said.  The point is, if she wants peace, if she wants comfort, she knows where to find it.  All she has to do is get up and walk across the hallway.  Can she really ask him to do this for her though, when he’s already given her so much?  And what has she given him in return?

Katherine sighs and twists her ring again.  Finally, she kicks the sheets away and gets up from the bed.  She unties her hair and shakes it loose before she goes to her door.  It takes her some time to open it and then she stands in the dark for a few moments more before she tiptoes to his door.  The floor creaks softly under her.  She can see the lamplight shining dimly from under the bottom of his door.  It takes her another few moments and a few deep breaths, but she knocks.

Mulder opens the door.  He’s bare-chested and bare-footed.  His suspenders are slung down by his thighs and the top button of his trousers is undone.  He cocks his head in question and she drops her eyes for a few moments, but then looks back up at him.

“Could you hold me?” she asks.

He opens his mouth and then purses his lips and nods.  “Yeah, I can do that.”

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Thoughts on, Invader Zim Quarterly: Holiday Special

WEEEE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY WE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY!

Ahhhhh It’s out! I’m so excited!

But I always get excited when it has my man Membrane and my man Eric Trueheart involved with the comics. 

Also santa..   Tbh, I was excited and nervous about this quarterly. 

Excited because it has Membrane santa backstory...

But I was nervous because that it means they might bring back the santa-blob monster from the Holiday special on the TV... and The Christmas special is one of my least favorite IZ episodes...   I mean... I rewatch it occasionally, and it’s fun, but I’m just kinda used to IZ having more BITE in it’s satire if you know what I mean? The Christmas Special in the IZ universe doesn’t really say anything about the capitalism of Christmas... it’s not like IZ hasn’t made fun of capitalism before. (that’s the whole show)  The Christmas Special in the show just kinda fell flat of my expectations of what an Invader Zim episode should be....

The only thing I respect the Holiday Special for, is that it goes down the “Santa isn’t real” route in a kid’s show and sticks to it. (there’s no “real santa” that shows up and “solves everything”) All of the “Santa’s Helpers” confused the Santa mythos with the Christianity Jesus mythos. (”waiting one day for his return”) Which makes sense, since IZ is like dystopian future Suburbia Hell. I just kinda like that there’s no “real santa” that interfered to “fix everything” and that Zim himself ended up CREATING Santa when he didn’t exist previously. Like I find that kinda cool...

Other then that, I just kinda wanted something else from the Hoilday special then what I got. (It taking priority over scrapped episodes like “the trail” and “Ten minutes to doom” and “mopiness of doom” does not help it’s case in being one of my C-tier episodes...) 

So maybe this quarterly will fill the void of what I wanted out of a Holiday special? Well, let’s see. 

SPOILERS FOR THE QUARTERLY BELOW THE CUT

Ways to get Dana off-board immediately: Monster Santa is canon. 

I always never liked to view the special as canon for ways that it fell flat before.

And I had the excuse of saying that the snowman was an unreliable narrator and I could adapt it down the line in my fic as a different story. 

I just didn’t like the idea of Monster-horror-blob santa...  Like... Cool design... but he just kinda represents everything I disliked about the special...  (including the major inconsistency of when Tak’s ship got fixed...)

But then again.. I need to remember IZ’s lore isn’t as consistent as I think it is sometimes... 

Okay, fine. Monster blob santa real... what else you got for me, Holiday special?

FACE HUGGER SANTA! FACE HUGGER SANTA! I AM NOT INTO IT! 

WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?! NO. DANA HATES THIS!

Okay, kinda into it because this means that ZIM CREATED SANTA in this mythos... I am dying.... wait.. this takes place in the future then...soo...?

haoFhaGHAOhfgg 

It was all a dream?!  

GOOD.

my heart couldn’t take it if horror-santa was real... 

Also... that nightcap and bed... Does this mean we’re going to have an Invader Zim Christmas Carol?!?!?! I know that’s been adapted a schmillion times but I would be so into that.... 

Also... Flying... hamm...

Good ol’ Zim... Repressing those memories...  

Also this being the THIRD ETF reference in a quarterly, It can be very safe to say the Quarterly issues take place after the events of ETF.

Clembrane exists in the Quarterly, Membrane has robot arms, Zim remembers this (kinda)  Yeah this is definately ETF verse and it’s here to stay. 

Christmas Carol?! I’m down for this... and I can’t help but notice their claws look familiar

OH HOLY HELL I WAS RIGHT! THESE GUYS! I LOVE THESE GUYS?!

Why are you here tho?

I’m a bit lost on why these guys wanta take over the earth, but they’re hilarious so I’m just glad they’re here.

Also...   The Christmas Special is Schrodinger's Christmas... did it happen, or was it a dream, or the tales of a lunatic snowman... I guess I’ll never know. 

The issue goes on for an IZ Christmas Carol parody (heck yea) and the visions are all hilarious and I’m not gonna spoil them here... but...

Eric.... this is terrifying..........thanks I hate it. 

TINY DIB THOUGH! GHAOGHAHGAHAHA

THIS IS GREAT

THE MORE DIB SUFFERS THE MORE I LOVE IT!

“Though I am Dib and sickly father”

I’m dying XDDDDD

Also... What the fuck is Zim’s reaction here... 

I find it funny that Zim has put Dib into simulated realities before... (in the show and comics) and in the show, Dib is all powerful and in the comics, Dib is just himself and Zim is his brother..

But seeing a simulated Dib all weak and pathetic and chronically ill BOTHERS ZIM?!?!

That’s... well that’s interesting. 

Thought he’d laugh at this honestly, but he seems greatly annoyed... 

I CHANGED MY MIND! THIS IS THE BEST THING! 

(those who know me know why I’m dying over this)

YES!!!

ZIM DOESN’T LIKE WHEN PEOPLE FEEL BAD FOR HIM OR PITY HIM! 

(which confirms like a lot of my hcs and adds spicy kindling to my au much mad respect) 

This I find interesting...  Zim complepative over his lonely/abandoned grave. It’s like he really doesn’t know how to feel. It’s more of a numbness then a sadness. Or he noticed how empty his life is... 

He feels lonely and empty about it...  which tracks considering how Zim’s greatest fear in the Trial was to be deleted and never be remembered by anyone. 

I don’t know... This panel makes me feel things...

Johnen: Haha. Zim’s not that deep a character.

Eric: Hey for the Christmas special, let’s have Zim parody a Christmas carol and feel lonely staring at his own empty grave when he realizes no one cares about him or misses him.

Johnen: Cool. Do it. 

What are you two assholes doing to me, man?! I have feelings! 

AND ONCE AGAIN!

Zim hates pity and people feeling bad and sorry for him. 

Man this makes me so sad...  And it really feels like this issue looked into my brain again, cause I have some plans relating to Zim not wanting sympathy or pity from anyone later down the line (okay I’ll shut up about my au. We’re talking Zim here)

And of course, Zim breaks everything like he usually does. (this time on purpose)

Also nice callback that Zim remembered that Dib said he liked his boots one time in the Poop-wizard issue. 

Also, it ends? I guess this quarterly has a few shorter stories this time... which I’m fine with. 

Also, Zim should consider Green and Blue like D-list friends at this point and just invite them in for some fundip or something (come on, Zim, it’s Christmas.....) 

GASP!?!?!

LITTLE MEMBRANE!!!

AND GRANDPARENTS CONFIRMED!!! 

Wait... so his Parents are scientists too? Is that why he always wanted to be a scientist?

But then wait.... If Membrane inherited Membrane Labs from his parents... Why is HIS FACE the brand of the Company?..... There’s so much Membrane-face brand merch in the show. (it decorates his home..) 

Like even if they were dead, if his parents founded Membrane labs, I feel they’d still be the face. of the company... (that’s how a lot of corporate faces are these days... they show some old dead guy who made the company as opposed to the son who inherited the Company.... Like everyone knows who Walt Disney/Mickey Mouse is, but unless you pay close attention to that kinda thing, not everyone knows who the current chairman or CEO is in the modern age....)

I just find that a bit odd. 

Anyways... I feel people can still do what they want with Membrane’s parents and get away with it. I’m not changing my “his parents were farmers” headcanon. Sorry comic..

BUT I LOVE THEIR DESIGNS.

I love how Membrane looks a lot like his mother, and his father is just BUFF GAZ with a pipe.... Truely legends. 

GASP!!!

COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOKOUT DIB, THIS IS YOUR FUTURE!

I FUCKING LOVE HOW OILY HE LOOKS.. AND IT ADDS UP CAUSE...

The Membrane Men when they don’t shower or bathe in months.....

Someone help these two.

(thank god Membrane got better at personal hygiene.) 

Also Teenbrane STILL has his human arms and not his robo-arms.

This means he loses his arms later in life...  YUSH HORRAY FOR HEADCANNONS BEING VALIDATED!

He didn’t lose his arms in a shark accident when he was a KID! It happened WAY LATER!

NICE!

OH MY GOD HE IS BABY!

HE IS SO SHY AND ACKWARD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

I LOVE HIM!

He is just... all sweat and hiding his work but also very passionate and spiteful. 

Like you can see who he grew up to become, and you can also see how a kid like Dib came out of a man like him...

But I love social anxiety awkward early twenties/late teens Membrane... He is a baby! 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MEMBRANE ;w;

Basically, Membrane knows that Santa isn’t real, but he doesn’t want to be mad at his parents so he harbors a grudge on Santa instead... THAT’S SO SWEET I’M CRYING  TTmTT

LIKE THAT IS SO SWEET AND I’M CRYING!

(also I love how me and Ceph understand Membrane’s character too well that the gesture he does in the 2nd panel here are reminisant of our fic so many times... Like we have his mannerisms down and I love when the mask slips from Membrane and we get to see a real person... augh soo good) 

WHO GAVE THEM THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY MAN THIS SAD?! ONLY I CAN MAKE HIM SAD!

MEMBRANE TTMTT

AUUUGHH

Also probably guessing the parents are dead...   I’m just laughing at their designs... 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Yes you are, Professor Membrane... Don’t let anyone tell you different. (actually, please do) Well, I mean,  At least you’re trying and get progressively better.

(also... this probably means everytime Dib has asked his Dad for a dangerous weapon to fight Zim with, Membrane just gives it to him no questions asked and I’m doing a MAJOR concern about this man’s parenting skills... get help please good sir!) 

Also, Dib really saved the day again here (like he did in Dib’s big day)

Dib called about destroying santa when Membrane was in one of his lowest points...  He hides it really well...   Especially from his children..

Ah..  I loved that one.

But I’m a huge Membrane Simp though.

I did find the stuff about Membrane’s parents a little weird... like I said regarding how Membrane’s face is the brand of Membrane labs...

Could be true that they were other scientists and that Membrane founded Membrane labs later... but that seems highly unlikely... 

Also... Why does the house look that hug when in the christmas special, it looked kinda like...well... just not that, and kinda more humble from the interior and not some big rocket lab...

So yeah... AMAZING character building for Membrane (which I eat up)

Hilarious Grandparent Designs. But I still prefer @esthyradler​ ‘s Grandparents. The superior Grandparents.

Anyways... The Quarterly was GREAT! 

I kinda find it funny the Zim story is the weaker one of the two again... But I honestly blame the Christmas Horror blob connection and the Christmas Carol parody. 

Or maybe my Membrane Bias is clouding my mind here.  I do have Zim bias but sometimes Zim can frustrate me. There’s just so many times Zim can do and say the same things you know? Zim is my baby, but sometimes his denial and annoyance with everyone can be very predictable at points. Zim was just way more fun in the last quarterly than this one. 

With Membrane it’s more of a blank slate what to do with him cause he ony started really mattering as a character since ETF. Yes, I do love show Membrane, but I admit he wasn’t exactly a character then. More of a presence and excuse for why Dib had access to lab equipment. With Dib’s Dilemma and this Hoilday special, the Quarterly folks seem determined to turn him into a fully realized character with the rest of the cast and I’m extremely excited to hear that!

(Computer issue/backstory WHEN?!) 

I don’t really have ratings or systems for these but hope you liked my thoughts.

Merry Christmas everyone.

[kjhmyg]

christmas/ny (drabble)

pairing: jungkook x reader | jungkook x oc

genre: fluff, steamy at the end

words: 1.7k

summary: re!couple celebrating christmas and ny with jungkook after the holidays

a/n: um first of all, sorry. this is so bad im cry but also it’s kinda ok? idk. sorry anon if this isn’t what u wanted. i’ll try again next year 2022 lmao

𝄖

As patient as he is Jungkook can’t wait for your nightly call. You try to stay off your phone for the most part being back home, leaving time to talk to Jungkook only when it’s dark out. Of course, some days you miss him so much that you break that rule to sneak in a couple of texts or photos. Today’s not one of them. 

Unfortunately, he had missed your earlier call. Horrified seeing two notifications of your failed attempts to reach him, he’s decided not to do anything else till he hears your voice. 

Jungkook shoves a spoonful of Suga’s homemade microwave spaghetti into his mouth, eyes not leaving his phone.

“You’re staring at that thing so hard the screen’s going to crack.” Suga judges him from across the table. 

“I’m expecting a call.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs, “But it’s not like your phone’s on silent. It’ll ring once she⎼”

Jungkook jumps within the first few seconds of his phone lighting up, your name flashing across the screen. Leaving Suga to himself, he rushes into the room and takes a deep breath before accepting the call. “Hi.”

“Hey you.” Your chirpy voice makes him smile. “Missed you earlier.” 

“I know, sorry. Was busy. Did you have fun today?” 

“It was okay. We got a cute little tree and I managed to do some really last minute shopping because I just found out my cousins will be here tomorrow night.” You sigh. “Did you miss me?” 

“So much. I hate being apart, you know that.” 

“Well I did offer you to come home with me.”  

Jungkook had declined again. He doesn’t think it’s the best time to introduce himself to your family yet. Though, he had no qualms about letting your dad know. Funny enough, you decided not to. But you’re certain you heard your grandmother telling him about the couple photo you have as your homescreen. 

“Maybe next time.” He hums, thinking about the possible future. 

“I think my dad will like you.” The sound of your giggles has him cheesing so hard. 

“Is that why you chickened out on telling him about us?” 

“I did not! The timing isn't right.” 

“Sure baby.” He laughs. “You’re not embarrassed of me are you?” 

“I’m embarrassed someone like you is even interested in me.” You both laugh and let the silence engulf you. “You know I love you right? I hope we can spend the holidays together next year.” 

“I hope so too.” There’s a tiny amount of sadness in there if you’re listening right. 

“I might not be able to call you the next few nights. Since my cousins will be over. I promise to text though.” You say. 

“That’s okay.” You hear the smile in his voice. “Just have fun okay? I’ll be here when you get back.”

“One more week.”

“Right. One week. Seven days. I’m sure I can handle being without you till then.” 

“Merry christmas my love.” You send him a kiss over the phone.

“Merry christmas to you too.” 

When the call ends ten minutes later, he trots back outside, face looking even worse than before. Suga, now done with his food, shakes his head disapprovingly as Jungkook takes his seat and goes back to the sad, cold dish in front of him. “You’re pathetic.” 

𝄖

Jungkook holds his breath as the train slowly comes to a stop at the platform. Yesterday was the first day of the new year, which means today’s the day you come back. He’d planned out his route. First he’d get coffee and bagels to-go with chocolate danishes for you, in case you hadn’t had anything during the long trip. Then a short stop at the florist to get you a single rose before going off to the station.

It gets messy as everyone starts alighting and he struggles to catch you among the crowd. That’s when you come into view, head popping out between other random faces, wrapped in a beanie and scarf. Your face lights up when you see him, making hurried steps and dragging your luggage behind you. 

“Jungkook!” You squeal, running into his arms. 

He kisses the side of your face. “Hey stranger.” 

“I’m so happy to see you.” You say, squeezing him tight. “How are you?”

“You’re asking me that as if we aren’t constantly texting each other.” He laughs, handing you the rose and letting you cling onto his arm with your luggage in his other hand, headed for the car. 

“I know I’m just trying to break the ice.” 

Inside the comfort and warmth of the car, he kisses you deeply. Something he’s been looking forward to for the last three weeks. “How’s that for breaking the ice?” 

You roll your eyes but a smile plays at your lips as you properly adjust the seat belt. Gasping when you’re handed chocolate danishes, you pout at him, “You’re so sweet. Come here.” It earns him more kisses which he happily accepts. 

In the back seat you notice an odd shaped item, in purple wrapping, done quite messily. “What’s that?” You ask knowingly. 

“A surprise.”

“I have one for you too.” You smile smugly. 

 “Yeah? Can’t wait.” 

On the way back, you give him a run down of what went on back home. When he ended up confessing that he hadn’t done anything special for the holidays, not even with Suga, it made you feel bad. Even though he tries to assure you he didn’t want to celebrate it anyway. 

Back home, you lug your baggage into the room and dig something out of your bag. A packet of cookies lands on Jungkook’s lap as he takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch. “For me?” 

“Mmhm.” Nodding, you tear open the paper bag, behaving more excited than he is. “My grandma said she packed this for my friend. She winked when she told me that. And I’d already brought some back for Hana. I think she knows.” 

“About us? How?” 

“She’s always been nosy.” You giggle. “I guess she doesn’t want you to get left out.”

“Aw. She’s kind just like you.” 

“Wait!” He pauses, startled by your hand on his, stopping him from pulling one of the cookies out of the bag. “Hold on.” 

You get up and run to the room. Carrying as many pillows as you can with a comfy blanket somewhere in between, Jungkook watches as you make a barrier with the pillows and spread the blanket over him. Then, you’re off to the kitchen. 

After a minute of cabinet doors opening and closing and the clinking of glasses, you come back with two mugs of hot cocoa, marshmallows on top of course. Just the way your dad makes them. You place it right next to him then push the coffee table all the way forward to make more room to spread your legs. You put on a lame christmas movie on netflix, then snuggle up next to him. 

“Now it’s a real christmas party.” 

Jungkook laughs, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. You do the most unexpected things at the most random times. But he appreciates the way you always try to make sure he’s not left out. “Thank you baby.” 

You grin up at him and watch carefully as he takes the first bite of the cookies. His eyes go wide and you nod knowingly. It’s your grandmother’s famous recipe. One even if you had, wouldn’t even be able to replicate its taste. He hums in delight, stuffing his mouth with one cookie after the other. 

“So. Let me guess what happens after cookies and cocoa.” He says after finishing almost half the packet. 

“What?” You ask, eyeing him. 

He reaches round the side of the couch and pulls out the odd package you had seen in the car. “Presents?”

“Presents!”  

You run back to your room and appear with a small wrapped box. The rule was not to buy anything that costs more than your monthly rent. You both had agreed to this a while back. Which was difficult for Jungkook because all he wanted to do was to spoil you with expensive gifts. 

“What is this?” Jungkook holds the box to his ear and shakes lightly. “Hm.” 

“Wait I think I can guess what mine is.” You giggle, pressing into the soft parts of the wrapping. 

“Okay then you go first.” 

“Okay.” Tearing away the wrapping carefully, you find inside a soft, pink bunny with funky eyebrows. On the bottom of its little feet, there are hearts and in those hearts are both your names embroidered with a plus sign in between. “Aww no this is so adorable. I love it so much.”

“It’s not a diamond necklace but⎼”

“No this is so much better. Thank you.” You give him a hug with the bunny squished between your bodies. “It strangely reminds me of you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah it’s weird and I like it.” You giggle, pinching his cheek. “Now open yours.” 

The wrapping comes off easy and he immediately realises what it is as the box comes into view. He looks at you for a second before unboxing it and pulling out a matte black polaroid camera. Jungkook takes his time with it, carefully looking at it from each side. 

“Do you like it?” You ask. “I know you like taking photos so I thought you might like this.” 

“Y/N I love it.” He smiles, bringing the viewfinder to his eye and getting a feel of it, then putting it down to focus on you. “Let’s take one together.” 

You scoot next to him as he loads the film cassette. Then hugging his middle, he hooks his arm around your shoulders and your faces press against each other. He clicks the shutter and you both wait for the film to develop. 

It comes out perfect, both your smiling faces perfectly in frame and even bunny made it in which makes Jungkook laugh. He can’t stop staring at it, holding it by the edges so carefully like he’s afraid he’s going to ruin it. 

“I love you.” He says, looking at you when he finally sets it down.

“I love you too.” 

He kisses you, tasting of hot cocoa and love. You’re being pushed onto the pillows with the blanket beneath as Jungkook hovers over you, pushing the hair out of your face. As Jungkook removes his sweater, you pull your shirt over your head. Jungkook smiles down at you, kisses you, then reaches for the camera. “Merry fucking christmas to me.” 

You shimmy out of your jeans and hook your ankle over his shoulder. Snap. “And happy new year baby.” 

[astraljedi]

Coffee Crush (Evan Buckley)

A/N: first of all, I’m buck trash. I’ve been watching 911 with my roommate since season two aired, and I’ve been trying to fight it. But here I am, posting an Evan Buckley imagine. Secondly, I wrote this in a day? Who am I? Thirdly, we need more buck imagines.

Summary: Evan might be obsessed with a coffee shop, or a certain employee.

Warnings: none? Probably some bad writing.

Pairing: reader, she/her

____

Coffee never failed to bring people together, whether it was decaf or not. People enjoyed a hot cup of coffee or an iced cold-brewed coffee with their loved ones at any time of the day.

That's why Y/N had decided to open up Mamá Linda’s Coffee shop. Of course, Los Angeles had hundreds of know coffee chains around de City. But it didn’t stop her from owning her place, she fought hard for it and gave it her all until she finally made it.

It always packed all day, and she was on her feet since early in the morning until late at night. There wasn't a day where she wasn’t helping her staff on the bar and behind the kitchen. She was an all-hands in kind of woman.

Week 1

The job was exhausting, but a day never passed by that wasn't full of some entertainment—especially this week in particular.

“Y/N, we have a 10 in uniform,” Selena whispered to her while calling the shots for the current drink she had. They all spoke in codes, and a ten means someone attractive was in the shop. “Those piercing blue eyes could make me forget that I’m a married woman.”

Selena always made her day with her commentary during shifts and even of them during text or calls. She was a woman full of surprises.

“He’s lost looking at the menu.” Y/N chuckled, watching him wrinkle his nose in confusion. He was wearing a black firefighter uniform like he just came off his shift or was heading there. “He looks cute.”

She found it adorable, and without notice, she had a small smile splattered on her face. The cute firefighter turned his attention back to the line and caught Y/N’s eyes staring back at him. He must have felt someone was staring at him.

Blushing uncontrollably, he smirked at her playfully. He loved flirting, and he walked around, knowing he could get any girl.

Not knowing what to do with herself, she lowered her head embarrassed and ended up spilling the steaming hot milk from her pitcher on the counter and on to her apron. Y/N’s hands were now shaking as her team watched her with wide eyes, surprised with her clumsiness. She wasn’t like this at all.

The metal pitcher fell to the floor, hushing the packed shop with the remaining milk spilling on the ground as clients looked around for the source of the accident. It made it worse for her when all her usual clients were staring at her, they were worried, but she thought they were judging her.

“Y/N, get yourself cleaned up. We can handle it here.” Selena rubbed her Y/N’s shoulders while she nodded her head in agreement quietly. Darian was already cleaning up the counter while she walked away quietly towards the back. After all that, Y/N didn’t even dare to look back at the firefighter. She felt embarrassed at how nervous and shaky she got over just one smirk.

And if it couldn’t go worse, he became a regular after that.

Week 2

The second week was torture; now she knew his name after Selena had told her a few days ago when she finally caught his name for his order. Now, Harry, one of her other employees, had found him on social media during a late stalking session. He had a crush too.

“Evan hasn’t come in today, and maybe he couldn’t come by before work or after his gym session.” Harry frowned, leaning against the marble countertop after he finished with his last customer on the line. It was around 10 am, which meant a little breathing room for the team to relax from the morning rush hour.

“Did you get his social security number while you were stalking the poor guy?” Y/N chuckled, working on the pastry case. She had made the perfect Tres Leches in the morning that she thought it deserved a spot on the pastry case for others to see the newest treat on the menu.

“I only found about his family, his ex-girlfriend, and where he works. It wasn’t a full-on stalk since I know you called dibs first.” Y/N turned around, glaring at him after she closed the pantry door.

“I did not call dibs on him.”

“Well, you did spill your pitcher full of steaming milk after the poor guy tried to flirt with you. Which you never spill your pitcher, you can do this in your sleep cupcake.” Harry added as Selena had joined them in the bar.

“I’m with Harry on this, and you did say he looked cute that day,” Selena added, drying the white plated she brought from the back.

“I did not spill because of him. I just had too much caffeine that day that I was bouncing all over the place.” Y/N tried to get her self out of it; she didn’t even want to be in the topic from the first place. “Just because I find a guy attractive doesn’t mean I want to date him.”

“You’re saying that I’m not datable?” And if her nightmare couldn't have become worst. Evan was standing behind the pastry case, gym bag over his shoulders, and a tank that left his muscular biceps the main lead of the show.

It was like deja vu. Y/N’s blushing cheeks were hard to cover as he smiled back at her. He knew she was avoiding him since the milk incident, and he finally caught her. And even better, she was talking about him with her friends.

“I see you have become a regular now.” Was that the first thing she said to him? Yeah, rude.

“What can I say? I love coffee and scenery.” Evan flirted again, knowing he made her nervous.

“Well, I think Harry knows your usual so that he will make it for you.” And as expected, Harry was already finishing his order at the end of the bar. “As a thank you for your support, it's on the house.”

Harry smiled widely at Evan as he handed the coffee cup to Evan over the counter. “Won’t your boss get mad for giving away free coffee?” Evan added before taking a sip of his drink.

“The good thing is that I’m the owner.” Y/N smirked back at him before turning around and walking towards the backroom. She looked over her shoulder, thinking she pulled off the last move, but he didn’t fail to wink back at her before Evan left the shop.

Week 3

After her last conversation with Evan, she did see him a couple of times after. And she finally learned his usual order. It was a black coffee with a splash of unsweetened almond milk topped with some cinnamon.

She did get used to seeing his face around. He did seem to enjoy the coffee. “Hey, sweet face, you’re early today.” Y/N leaned against the counter, already having his order ready for him in front of her.

“Now, you’re giving me nicknames?” He did enjoy the coffee, but he loved it the most when she greeted him with her sweet smile. He had gotten her to open up to him these couple of days, and he was happy about it. She brightened up his day.

“You just always have a sweet smile, like a toddler. Always so full of life, energy, and happiness.” And she wasn’t shy anymore on holding back the compliments.

“Then, I will call you freckles.” Evan reached towards Harry to finish paying and looked at her one last time. “You should show your freckles more. They go perfectly with your beautiful smile.” He winked at her and left the store in a hurry for work.

“If you don’t date him, I will.” Selena pushed a blushing Y/N playfully while she still stared at the door even though he was nowhere in sight anymore.

Week 4

“Good Morning Harry, did you watch the game yesterday?” Evan chatted with Harry, his eyes scanning the shop for a particular face.

“I did, and after that game, I’m embarrassed to even be from here. What a disaster it was.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, giving Evan his change. “She’s not here, she came down with the horrible flu and couldn’t risk getting all of us sick.”

“Oh, I was looking forward to seeing that smile today.” Evan frowned, placing a tip in the jar on the counter. “It was nice seeing you. Take care.”

“He looked sad when he walked in today,” Selena said, while Harry agreed.

Week 5

After spending some time in bed and being miserable at home with the flu, Y/N was finally on her feet and feeling better. The first day back and she was excited to head back to her second home, and especially to see that special someone.

But that morning, he didn’t show up at all. It was like the universe didn’t want her to see him today.

“He did come yesterday, right?” Y/N asked Selena, tapping her fingers on the counter, worrying about him. She had a feeling something was wrong, especially after Selena has told her that morning that he had been looking rough the couple of times he had come in.

“He did, he still had the sad puppy eyes, but he did order your tres leches again,” Selena confirmed, handing Y/N a warm cup of tea. Y/N felt terrible, he did leave his number for her with Harry, but she just didn’t have the courage to text first.

Maybe she was crazy, but she missed his smile and his contagious laughter while she was gone. She was looking forward to seeing him again, but she might have sent the wrong signal by not texting or even calling him after he left his number.

“I’m going for a drive, think you can stay in charge until I get back?” Y/N placed the cup on the counter and folded up one of the to-go boxes.

“If you’re going to do what I think you're going to do, then I can.” Selena chuckled, helping Y/N place the whole Tres Leches in the box.

She had driven past the station a few times before she even knew him, so thankfully, she knew the way and didn’t need to waste more time by searching it on her GPS. It was a 10-minute ride, and with her luck, traffic was lighter than usual.

“Should I call him and tell him that I’m here?” She thought, looking at the intimidating station. With her shaking hands, she built up the courage and stepped out of her car with her other hand holding on to the box.

“I bet I look pathetic.” And again, the little voice in her head returned. Her eyes wandered the area, and she only spotted a pair of legs working behind the ambulance. Hesitant, she made her way towards the figure as she held tightly on to the box in her hands. “Hi, excuse me.” She felt so small and intimidated her voice cracked a bit at the end.

“How can I help you, ma'am.” She felt so bad about interrupting him while he was just trying to do his job.

“Sorry to bother you, is Evan here? I don’t know if this is the right station-“

“Oh yeah, he’s here.” He smiled a little too friendly and immediately started shouting Evan’s name until an annoyed Evan came marching from what looked like a locker room.

“Han, why in the world are you screaming?” Buck groaned, but it took him a second to realized what was happening.

“This kind woman was asking for you.” Han smiled at Y/N kindly. Buck’s eyes widened, and his cheeks we're madly blushing when he spotted her standing right behind Han. And of course, Y/N had been blushing since he had walked out of the lockers.

“This is for all of you; I made it this morning.” Y/N held out the box, and Han didn’t hesitate to grab it from her hands.

“She brings us treats. She’s a keeper, Buck.” Han said a little too loud as he climbs up the stairs towards the small kitchen.

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. I got worried when you didn’t come in, and I just had a bad feeling. I needed to make sure you were alright.” Y/N rambled, her hands moving around like crazy as she tried to explain her actions. “I don’t know if you’re just nice, but I’m pretty sure we were flirting all of this time, and I just needed to see you.” With her rambling all over the place, she didn’t even notice how Buck was walking towards her slowly.

“I wanted to see you too.” Evan chuckled, grabbing her by the waist, finally pulling her closer to his body for the first time. The heat radiating between the two met as Buck lowered down to her height to catch her lips with his.

In complete shock, Y/N’s widened at first but slowly shut them as she kissed him back. It was slow and sweet, how he imagined it to be. One of Y/N’s hands found its way towards his bicep, resting on the muscle even after he had pulled away to look at her glistening eyes. “Just as good as your coffee,” Evan mumbled, pecking her lips a few times.

They were in their little bubble until wolf whistles and cheers coming from the balcony above them. “You can come to visit us at any time if you bring more goodies as good as this dessert,” Han said with a mouth full of food. A woman standing right next to him slapped him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes at him. “Excuse my partner. He gets a little too happy over food.”

“I’ll bring more next time.” Y/N giggled as Buck held her between his arms.

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - The Get-To-Know-You Game

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

“Gosh...sorry it’s kind of a mess in here.”

“That’s okay.” Florence giggled, watching Daniel jump over to rush to tidy his desk a little the second they stepped inside the dorm room. She held one protective hand on her round stomach and the other quietly closed the door behind them. “Jack’s out?”

“Yeah he’s in class until 6.” Daniel answered, tossing his stack of music theory books into the corner of the desk.

“You don’t have to panic clean. I’m not the clean police, Daniel James.” Florence laughed lightly.

He blushed a little and dropped his backpack back onto the floor beside his desk, “Right.”

Florence smiled warmly at him, dropping her gaze to her belly when she felt a little flutter and she ran her hand over the spot where her baby kicked.

“Here. Come sit.” Daniel offered quickly, pulling out his desk chair for her.

Florence thanked him sweetly and sat down and he took Jack’s chair from across the small room for himself. She admired the cluttered dorm room from the clothes tossed in piles on the floor to Daniel’s guitar resting in the corner and Jack’s skateboards thrown around and posing a dangerous slipping hazard. It clearly was a boys’ room.

“Usually we’re really clean but midterms have us a bit...messy.” Daniel said with a sigh, rubbing his hands together between his knees as he scanned his shamefully chaotic dorm room that he was regretting bringing his new friend to see. A friend who was a girl at that.

“I’m not put off, Daniel James.” Florence assured him. “I have a messy room myself too.”

Daniel’s relieved little sigh had her smiling discreetly to herself.

“What do you want to do?” Daniel asked, trying to be a good host. “Can I...Do you want water? Or a...protein bar?”

“An honest selection but I’m okay for now, thanks.” Florence said sweetly.

Daniel nodded.

There was a momentary silence.

She smiled at him.

“Do you want to play a game?” Daniel offered.

“What are you proposing?” Florence asked.

“Well...we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well this last week...texting every day and had lunch at least twice...but we don’t really know a lot at the same time.”

“Truth or dare?” Florence peaked an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Alright.” she smiled and shifted comfortably in her chair. “You start.”

“Florence Margret...truth or dare?”

Florence giggled, “Hit me with a truth, Daniel James.”

Daniel thought for a moment, “When was the last time you cried?”

“This morning.” Florence answered easily.

Daniel’s face fell, “What? Why?!”

“I’m seven months pregnant.” Florence laughed, “I cry if the wind blows in the wrong direction.”

They shared light laughter and then it was her turn to ask. Daniel chose truth too.

“Who’s your favourite sibling?”

“Oh come on you can’t ask me that.” Daniel frowned in exasperation.

“Why not? My favourite brother is Callum.”

“He’s your twin. It’s in your DNA for him to be your favourite. I don’t have a twin.”

“So what? Not like I’m going to call up your family and say ‘omg guess what Daniel hates you except for one of you’.”

“Fine.” Daniel took a second to think through his answer. “Christian.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. He just is. My turn.”

“Okay, okay.” Florence giggled.

“Where is the farthest place you’ve travelled?”

“Florence, Italy. My name sake. Lived there for about a year.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. We moved with mother and father’s work a lot but mostly were in LA...but you knew that.”

“Do you miss LA?”

“Hey. It’s my turn. But no, I don’t. Not one bit.” Florence thought of her question for a second, “What’s your favourite thing about yourself?”

“I dunno.” Daniel mumbled, dropping his gaze to his lap. “My eyes I guess.”

“Your eyes are very nice.” Florence complimented.

Daniel glanced back over at her with a bashful smile, “Thanks.”

He swallowed back his desire to gush about every gorgeous thing about her in return. He took his turn to ask a question instead.

“How many people have you kissed?”

“Oh my, spicy questions now, Daniel James?” Florence teased. “But just one person.”

“Really?” Daniel pressed.

“Yep. First kiss, first relationship, first baby.” Florence patted her swollen stomach.

Then it was her turn.

“Boxers or briefs?”

“What the- briefs.” Daniel blushed pink.

“Really? Does it not get squishy down there?”

“I mean- like- no! It’s- it’s fine! It’s underwear!” Daniel laughed nervously. “What underwear do you wear?”

“Nasty granny panties currently because of this little girl.” Florence tisked, rubbing two hands over her stomach.

Daniel smiled at her.

“What’s your biggest dream?”

Florence let a small sad smile play at her lips and she looked down at her swollen belly before answering, “To make a good life for my baby. To fall in love. To raise her around a family that’s loving and supportive. I dunno...that’s silly. I just want her to be safe and provided for I guess. That’s it.”

“That’s not silly.” Daniel said gently. “That’s a good dream.”

“I guess.” Florence shrugged. “What about you? What’s your biggest dream?”

Daniel spun around in the desk chair once in thought before answering, “Just want to do something with my life. Make an impact somehow. Maybe put out a song? I want kids one day...maybe raising them will be enough.”

“You want kids?”

“Yeah.” Daniel smiled softly, spinning around once more in the chair, “Three or four would be good...having siblings was always fun growing up. Family trips and move nights and stuff. I think that would be nice. Do you want more after darling Clementine?”

Florence shrugged, “I dunno. Never really saw myself as a mom in the first place. Never had a solid example of what a parent is supposed to look like growing up so I’m going into this blind and bound basically. Can only hope I don’t screw her up.”

“You’re not gonna screw her up. I already know you’re going to be a great mom. Whether it just be to baby Clementine or to a whole schoolyard of children.”

“Oh thanks.” Florence scoffed playfully.

“I mean it, Florence Margret. Clementine is a lucky baby to have you.”

Florence bit her lip for a moment before replying with a wavering voice, “Okay, stop it. Baby hormones are gonna make me cry if we keep this up.”

“Okay, new questions.” Daniel laughed. “Whose turn was it?”

“I dunno. You go.” Florence said.

“Alright, lemmy think.” Daniel hummed. “What was the craziest party you’ve been to?”

“Well this last one I was at...there was this super annoying guy named Daniel-“

“Hey!”

“Just kidding.” Florence giggled. “No, honestly, Callum and I threw a party back in the spring at our parents house - so many people showed up and someone almost broke into my father’s award cupboard. Thank God my brother stopped it before anything was broken.”

“Where were you?”

Florence cleared her throat nervously and let out a little nervous laugh, “Upstairs getting knocked up.”

“...Oh.” Daniel looked to the ground.

“Daniel James.” Florence called for her turn.

He looked up at her expectantly.

“Are you a virgin?”

Daniel’s cheeks flushed red and he quickly dropped his gaze again, “I-I...no I have...I have had lots of s-sex.”

Florence peaked a brow, “Oh really? How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many people?” Florence crossed her arms over her chest in amusement at watching her new best friend squirm.

Daniel sighed in defeat and slouched back in his chair, “None. I’m a pathetic virgin.”

“It’s not pathetic. If I wasn’t such a lightweight I would be in that club with you. It’s not something you should just throw around...save it for someone special, okay?”

“Yeah.” Daniel sighed. “Jack says get it over with but that doesn’t feel right.”

“Jack doesn’t know jack-shit.” Florence scoffed. “You are going to make some girl very lucky one night. When you’re ready.”

“I know.”

“And wear a condom.”

“Oh gosh...I know.”

“Good. This has been sex-ed with Florence.”

“Very informative. Like I said, mom-ready.” Daniel chuckled nervously.

The best friends shared light laughter.

“So you’re a virgin, but who was your first kiss?” Florence asked noisily.

Daniel opened his mouth to answer but then shut it and cleared his throat nervously with a nervous cock of his head.

“Oh wow, you’re a kiss virgin too?” Florence gaped.

“Yeah.” Daniel cringed. “Isn’t it embarrassing? I’m 18 for goodness sake.”

“Has it almost happened?”

“No. I don’t really know how to talk to girls yet alone make a move. I’m literally the most innocent guy in the whole country.”

Florence stared at him in thought.

“What is it?” Daniel pouted.

“Do you want your first kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“So get over here.” Florence whispered cheekily.

Daniel’s eyes went wide, “Wait like...now? Here? With you?”

“We don’t have to if-“

But Daniel was already out of his chair and standing in front of her.

Florence smiled at his eagerness and sat up straighter, “Just to get it out of the way. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right.” Daniel nodded. He licked his lips.

Florence smiled and linked her finger in the collar of his shirt to pull him down towards her slowly. Their eyes closed habitually and were only centimetres apart when the door burst open and Jack came traipsing in. Daniel never moved faster in his life; nearly throwing himself away from Florence with saucer wide eyes and pink cheeks and she just giggled softly.

“Hey.” Jack said loudly as he dropped his skateboard down and took off his headphones.

“Hi.” Daniel replied as casually as he could muster.

“What were you guys doing?”

“Just...you know…” Daniel cleared his throat, “Chilling.”

Florence smiled gently at her frazzled friend. He wouldn’t have his first kiss until ten months later but at least it was with the girl who had promised it to him.

[talkfastromance4]

Lost Without You-- Calum Hood oneshot

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

A/N: based off of Fly By Midnight’s new song Lost Without You. Give it a listen as  some of the lyrics are incorporated in the piece! 

Warnings: angst, moody and broody

Word count: 2,577

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

Calum is a man of deception; the Houdini of keeping his six-year relationship hidden from the media sharks’ eyes. He’s the mastermind of averting their invasive questions of why he hasn’t found a special someone yet, what’s the hold-up, to the attention of this awesome bass riff he’s been working on. It’s not that he was ashamed of you or your love, he wanted at least one part of his life to stay private.

Part of his deception is keeping his lips sealed. He’s perfected the silent-yet-observant role of the band, only speaking when he deems it necessary and if it’s related to the band, Duke, or their music while simultaneously he was having a full conversation with you on his phone about how all the planets share the same sun.

For six years, your relationship worked amazingly well. He adored your compassion for his dream, always referring to you as his biggest fan which always made you laugh. It’s been six years of late-night calls, paragraphs shared of how much you meant to each other filled with promises of the adventures you’d have when you’re reunited again. It’s been endless voice notes of a new song he wrote, memories upon memories printed on polaroid’s and saved in a lot of albums on your phone.

For six years it worked until it didn’t.

Complacency became very apparent and the feeling of being stuck in one place crept up your neck and whispered in your ear while your friends were getting engaged left and right. While out and about you felt jealous of other couples who could freely kiss one another. Seeing the guys and their girlfriends cuddle while you were all out dinner left a burning hole in your heart while Calum was three seats away.

For six years it did work, but the comfortable bubble you were in for so long suddenly became uncomfortable and claustrophobic. It was a long break up that left you both teary eyed, your makeup cleaned off from the salt in your tears, and your voices hoarse from talking. You tried talking it through, but the only solution seemed to be taking a break.

A break from your best friend of six years, a break from a love so genuine.

It’s been six months since that miserable night where half his heart was taken and Calum doesn’t want to be by himself these days, he doesn’t want to think of himself this way without you. But he has been thinking about it, every second, every day. He’s been thinking of you constantly.

And you’ve been thinking of him too. Recently you’ve been seeing a new guy, someone from the gym you go to who has shown interest multiple times. He’s the opposite of Calum, so you thought you’d give it a try. Something different, something new.

“Why’d you decide to give me a chance now? I’m glad you did, don’t get me wrong, but I’m curious,” Matt asks while you’re out for coffee.

“I haven’t been alone since I was eighteen,” you confess. You felt a release as you finally opened about your relationship with Calum, leaving his name anonymous so Matt wouldn’t blab to the press you were dating a member of 5 Seconds of Summer.

Your heart burst open of your whole relationship, six years of memories, love, a friendship set on fire, finally released into the open.

“Then why did it end?” Matt asks while he walked you up to your door. You hadn’t realized you talked about your relationship for the whole date, how pathetic is that?

Instead of answering him, you pulled him in for a kiss that traveled to your bedroom. Opening up about Calum opened your sadness of the breakup as well. The whole time you were with Matt, you compared him to Calum in your mind. His fingers were clumsy while Calum’s were sure and precise, years and years of bass playing under his belt did wonders. His hair was thin between your fingers while Calum’s was thick and fluffy. Matt’s movements were jerky while Calum’s were fluid as water.

When it was over, you rolled over to gaze out the window, tears brimming your eyes because for the first time in six months, you felt lost without Calum. There’s another body where he used to be, and you can’t stand the thought. Thoughts of Calum left you awake until Matt kissed you goodbye and left.

Calum’s over at Michael’s, he’s on his fifth white claw and he feels the alcoholic bubbles taking effect. In his impaired state, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to your text conversation, six years’ worth of conversation still held in his phone’s memory.

Him: I miss you when it hurts

Knowing you won’t reply but hoping that you do, he stumbles to the hammock. With one foot on the earth he sways from side to side staring at the stars through the trees. He’s wondering if all those stars have been in the sky since your relationship started when his phone does the two-toned ding reserved only for you.

Excited and nervous all at once, he almost falls out of the hammock reaching for his phone that falls between the netting of the hammock. Cursing under his breath he stretches until his fingers grab hold of the device, the light of the screen illuminates his face.

Her: I’m sleeping in your shirts

His heart skips a beat, his mouth goes dry just imagining you in his shirts. He hasn’t seen his sensation shirt in two years because you stole it and claimed it yours. Every couple months he’d get it back so that it would end up smelling like him and you’d steal it all over again. He loved seeing you walk around your place in nothing but his shirts, he loved the way your ass peeked out from the hem.

Him: but seeing you would make it worse

He impatiently waits while your gray bubbles pulsate on his screen. Then they stop and then your pretty face is on his screen followed by your ringtone. Surprised, he nearly drops his phone again before answering.

“Hello?” he asks breathlessly.

“Can we still talk on the phone sometimes?” you ask.

Calum falls out of the hammock this time because he hasn’t heard your voice in so long. Six years he’s been hearing your voice in his head, on his phone, in his ear while you whisper dirty things. Six months without your voice has been hell and hearing it now, it’s like he’s at the gates of heaven.

“Of course, we can,” he finally responds climbing back into the hammock. He licks his lips. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I’m okay,” you respond softly. He knows every nuance of your voice; he can tell you’re telling him the half-truth. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now.”

Over the next several weeks, you’ve been talking on the phone more frequently. You’re still seeing Matt every now and then, just to give you something to do and hopefully not think of Calum. That’s damn near impossible.

You’re on the phone with Calum while you’re sitting out on your balcony watching the sun go down. Both of you haven’t said a word in about five minutes, but hearing his breathing makes it feel like he’s right there with you. The two of you always had comfortable silences of enjoying each other’s presence.

“Can we be the exes that still stay friends?” he asks.

Your feet slam to the floor that were perched on the railing at his question. It filled you with butterflies.

“I’d like that, Calum. I’ve missed my best friend,” you admit shyly.

“He’s missed you, too.”

Matt spent the night and after your morning coffee, you laid on the floor staring at your ceiling fan as it rotates. The cool air blows on your skin and it reminds you of all the times you and Calum would lay on the floor or the grass, heads next to each other, as you talked about random things. Matt found you like that and asked what you were doing.

“Come lay with me, let’s talk,” you say reaching for his hand.

You feel his hesitancy as he lays next to you.

“What do we talk about?” he mumbles in confusion.

“Anything. Don’t you think it’s weird that Mars has the same sun we do?”

“No,” he snorts.

Suddenly, your door opens and with a rush of panic you sit up expecting to see Calum thinking that it’s him. Part of you wants him to see Matt and the other part of you wishes Matt weren’t in the picture at all. Crestfallen, it’s one of Matt’s friends who came by to pick up a video game he had. Matt leaves you on the floor and you send a text to Calum asking him about Mars and the sun.

He replies quickly with how that fact still blows his mind and you smile.

Ten months have gone by and Calum is pacing back and forth in his kitchen. Duke is following his motions, tongue lolling out and panting while the rest of the band follow the dad and dog duo. You’re coming over for the first time. For the first time since the breakup he’s going to see you and it has his stomach reeling.

“Why are you freaking out so much?” Michael asks.

“Because, it’s been so long! It could either go really well or end horribly,” Calum huffs continuing to move back and forth.

“Will you stop pacing?” Ashton demands, “you’re making me dizzy. It won’t end horribly. You’re already broken up.”

That stops Calum instantly. He glares at his best friend for his blunt remark, Michael and Luke share the same look.

“What?! I’m not wrong! What could be worse than that?”

“We’ve only started being friends again…she could decide she doesn’t even want that,” Calum sighs leaning against the counter. Duke sits at his feet.

“You’ve been friends for six years…yeah, you were also a couple, but I don’t understand how you can just stop being friends with that much history,” Ashton shrugs.

“Yeah, you don’t understand,” Calum shakes his head. Only you and he know where your relationship stands. He’d give you the moon if he could, lasso it and all that like from that movie you love so much.

The doorbell rings and Calum stands up stick straight, he breaks into a cold sweat. Michael offers to get it and when he returns, it’s only Andy and Sarah. At every doorbell Calum waits for you to walk through his door again but is met with disappointment when it’s another party guest.

Feeling defeated he collapses onto the couch, swiping through apps on his phone while the party blurs around him. Duke hops up and lays in his lap.

“Hey guys. Where’s Calum?”

Upon hearing your voice, Calum and Duke both perk up with Duke bounding off his lap and running to wherever your voice came from. Calum stands slowly, hearing your sweet words to Duke as he rounds the corner. Seeing you after all this time is like he can finally breathe again. You’re giving Duke kisses and Calum notices that your hair is different, the new cut and style takes him by surprise but you’re beautiful as ever.

Then your eyes lift to his and he swears he felt the planets align within him. When you smile it’s like he’s seeing the sun for the first time.

“Hey, you made it,” he says gruffly then mentally slaps himself. He should have said something cooler, more riveting but you smile all the same and stand up.

“Hi. Yeah, I did. I wouldn’t miss it.”

After grabbing you a drink he ushers you to a quiet corner where he awkwardly asks for a hug. You share a timid embrace, but it still feels like home. He wants to hold you forever but reluctantly lets go so you can catch up some more.

For the whole night you stay in that spot, unless he left to refresh your drinks, or you grabbed a snack that you shared on the same plate. As the last people left, you and Calum were left alone on the couch, the lights dimmed, and the music changed to something more chill.

“I thought you would’ve brought Matt with you,” Calum says. The other guy’s name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and his next sentence tastes like bile. “I want to meet him.”

“I thought about it,” you sigh leaning your head against the couch. Your head presses against Calum’s arm that’s slung over the back and he sucks in a breath at the contact. “But it’s not working with him.”

“No? Why’s that?” he tries to sound polite.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his dark eyes, the slight curl at the ends of his hair, his tattoos peeking from his shirt and the three moles you’ve always loved to kiss.

“I’m lost without you,” you confess.

He stares back for a beat.

“You’re lost without me?”

“These ten months have been so hard. I think about you all the time, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to come over and beg for you to take me back. But I hurt you. I know I did. I hated that night we broke up; it was one of the worst nights of my life. But why would you want me back after I threw in the towel because I was feeling affection deprived? That’s not fair. And then when you texted me…I felt so happy. This whole thing was stupid, and I understand if you don’t want—”

Calum silences you by pressing his lips to yours. You kiss back eagerly, welcoming the comfort of his soft lips against your own, your fingers immediately flying into his hair. His own hand cups your face, you melt at the warmth of his skin and a chill runs through you when his tongue slips between your lips. The world stops, the music drifts away as you kiss your best friend, your soulmate after so many days apart.

The kiss leaves you both breathless and gasping for air as you break apart, but you don’t move far, his forehead rests on yours. You caress the back of his neck while his thumb caresses your cheek.

“I’ve been lost without you, too, cupcake,” he mumbles and your heart rushes at his nickname for you. “I was nervous as shit before you came, I didn’t think you were going to.”

“I almost didn’t come,” you chuckle, “I kept imagining I’d see you with some new girl hanging off you.”

“The only girl I need is you.”

You’re kissing him again, then ask on his lips, “Maybe we should--?”

“Baby, we should start again,” he finishes for you. “We’re both different now. We’ll be different, we’ll…we won’t hide this time. You’ve been a part of my life for so long, you held my childhood that I didn’t want to let go of yet.”

“It’s not letting go, it’s moving forward,” you trace his eyebrows then poke each one of his small moles that you love because they’re like stars.

“Move forward with me?” he asks, nudging his nose against yours kissing you again. You nod against him as he pushes you onto the couch. Your love lost was found again.

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin​ @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod​ @myloverboyash​ @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​ @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal​ @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @notinthesameguey​ @wastedheartcth​ @atlcalm​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @another-lonely-heart​  @calumhoodaf​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid​ @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​ @mayve-hems​ @morguelth @haikucal​ @thatscooibaby​ @meghanrose05​ @idontneedanyone​ @dinosaursandsocks​ @cassie-sos​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @burstintocolor​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @dead-and-golden​ @mymindwide​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

**if your url has a strike through it’s because your blog didn’t show up as a tag! :(

[frostedfaves]

To Build A Home (10)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: some emotional grieving with everyone involved, brief moment of soft!Rosa 

A/N: this is the last chapter of the series! I’m sad that this is ending (aside from future blurb requests) but I’m excited to have more time to work on other things! I haven’t really worked on I Don’t Feel Alive much in the past few weeks so posting dates are TBD, but I will be opening my requests again soon while I figure it out! anyway thanks again for all your feedback, comments, reblogs, any little attention you gave to this series, I appreciate it all.

Previous chapter here

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A frantic knocking brings Jake and Amy’s attention away from their book or phone, the two of them locking eyes across the table. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” 

Jake shakes his head, following Amy as she jumps to her feet and heads to the door. Upon opening it, her heart breaks at the sight of you on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers that caught a few of the tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for popping up so suddenly,” you spoke hoarsely, attempting and failing to clear your face with one sleeve. “It’s our first wedding anniversary and I was going to visit her grave but before I knew it I was here. I don’t want to speak to her that way and I don’t want to see her that way again and I don’t want to—”

You fell into Amy’s waiting arms as you broke, repeating “I don’t want to” until it turned into mumbled sounds mixed in with your sobbing. Jake quickly came around to close the door, putting the flowers you dropped off to the side before sandwiching you into a hug from the other side. 

After you’d finally calmed down enough to breathe the three of you moved over to the couch, sitting in silence until you were ready to share what was on your mind. You held the bouquet in your arms once more, cradling it to your chest with one arm while you organized your thoughts. 

“I didn’t even get to call her my wife for a year before she was gone.”

Amy shifted her teary gaze to you, placing a hand on your free one with a gentle touch. Jake sat on the other side of you, listening while trying to get a hold of his own emotions. 

“We’ll never get to celebrate one year, five, ten, fifty. I wanted all of that time with her and it was stolen from me so easily.”

“Why don’t you write her a letter?” Jake suggested quietly. “When my grandma passed, Gina and I wrote letters to thank her for everything she did for us, and basically say anything we didn’t get to say before she went. I actually, um...I actually wrote one to Rosa the other day.”

Your eyes watered as you turned to him, a tear dropping as you addressed him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, brows pressed together in confusion. 

“I’ve been so lost in my own grieving that I forgot you lost someone too.” You turned to Amy. “Both of you have.”

“Y/N,” Jake placed his hand on your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. “Yes we all lost her, but she meant something different to each of us. We can’t always relate to each other’s pain with this because it’s different for all of us, and it’s not selfish to take the time to focus on working through what you feel.”

You returned his sad smile with a little more hope behind yours, placing the flowers on the table in front of you and grabbing both of their hands. 

“I love you guys. Thanks for always being there for me.”

Amy chuckled a bit, squeezing your hand between both of hers. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

-

You’d barely been home from Jake and Amy’s apartment five minutes before there was a knock on your door. You opened it and a grin appeared on your face at the sight of Terry and the twins. 

“Hi, Auntie Y/N!”

“Hi, sweet angels!” you greeted them as you pulled them into a group hug. “Hey, Sarge. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just picked the girls up from a playdate and I needed to bring you this.” He handed you a plastic bag that you instantly recognized. 

“Is this the—”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I was going through the case file and realized this was still in evidence. I was able to sign it out because it had no relation to anything, and based on what today is, you may need it.”

“Daddy let us put something in there for you, too!”

“Yeah! It’s an invitation to dinner tomorrow and your favorite cookies,” Cagney added, her eyes suddenly widening. “Sorry, that was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s okay, Cagney,” Terry assured her with a pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. “Are you going to be okay? We would love to have you tonight, too.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow. Thanks for the gift, angels,” you addressed the twins as you hugged them one last time.

You took your time opening the bag once you were alone, setting the card and cookies to the side and using your shaking hands to sift through the rest of the items. Underneath things like toothpaste and deodorant sat a little booklet titled “First Year of Many”.

You took a deep breath and opened it to a page with a handwritten note, handwriting you knew to be Rosa’s. Blinking back a few tears, you stroked your finger along the page carefully before finally reading her last words to you. 

“Y/N Diaz, I love you. I was going to stop there, but I know you love it when I get mushy or whatever. So I’ll add that this has been the best (almost) year of my life. Being your wife and having you as mine is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, especially after the horrors of coming out to my parents and being framed. You’re my favorite person in the world, and I can’t wait to celebrate our wedding day every year for the rest of our lives.”

By the end of the note you were sobbing again, and you had to take a few moments to breathe before you could move onto the pictures. Each one was from different days in the past year starting with your wedding day, and you admire her beauty through nonstop tears. Some were taken on special events like birthdays, with or without friends, and others were simply selfies from lazy days where you fell asleep before she did. 

You closed the book and took the bag in your bedroom, setting the book on your bedside table to look at again later and placing the other items in the bathroom. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, dialing Rosa’s number and trying not to cry again when you heard her voice for the first time in months. 

“Rosa Diaz’s phone. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Hey, baby. Um, happy anniversary. I really liked your present, by the way. Nowhere near as good as what I was going to get you.” You laughed a bit, sounding somewhat pathetic mixed in with sniffles. 

“I miss you so fucking much. I miss your voice, your snorting laugh, riding on the back of your motorcycle, and cuddling morning, afternoon and night. I’ve never known pain like this before and I never want to again.”

A couple seconds of silence passed before you started again. 

“I hope you’re safe and happy wherever you are. I hope you have unlimited axes to throw, and the Nancy Meyers movies are easily accessible. Most importantly, I hope you don’t miss me as much as I miss you because this really fucking hurts. Arlo and I feel like an incomplete puzzle without you. Anyway, I love you and—”

The automated voice cuts you off and you hang up instantly, not needing another reminder that you’ve run out of time to talk to Rosa. Part of you felt lighter after spilling your thoughts out to her, even if she couldn’t hear them. You smiled as Arlo padded sleepily into the room and climbed onto the couch to lie next to you, resting his head on your thigh. You thought back to Rosa’s vows, realizing that her wish of building a home with you had been granted.

You just wish she’d gotten the chance to live in it a little longer.

-

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @jay-is-groovy @gaulty74 @xetherealbeautyx

[atinykidult]

The Wind in His Ears — Choi San

[angst w/fluff] [2221 words] — A prompt taken overboard, wherein San loses his heart but finds it again. Disbandment!au, be warned. No tws except for loneliness (and reference of sex, I guess)

[prompt] — Travel!au, strangers to lovers, “That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

[dedication] — If you like soft or sexy stuff please check out @sanflowerseeds‘s works! They’re phenomenal (and written by an also phenomenal person!) I’m so sorry this took so long! I love you, Nanda, and hope you’re doing well!

[a/n] — This may be my worst fic ever, bc it has gone through so many directional changes. But it’s been a WIP so long, I just wanted it posted haha If you have time, please leave me some notes on what went wrong/right! Thank you for reading!

.

When Choi San hits his mid-thirties and feels his joints crackle a few decibels too loudly, he knows his body won’t take much more. So when their second round of contract negotiations roll around, his decision has already been made for him. 

But when Hongjoong delivers the official group stance, his heart still cracks.

.

And when they have their final performance, San’s the last one to cry.

Because his tears will last the longest.

.

The crack in his heart spreads into a veritable canyon in his world.

A scattering wind blows through that empty cavern, pulling Hongjoong to mentoring a new rookie group and Jongho to OST deals. But San gets to stand with Yeosang at his wedding; he grabs coffee with Wooyoung every other week, usually...

So San pretends he’s fine for six months.

After all… Mingi sends memes to the group chat all the time—

And Seonghwa makes sure to Facetime regularly—

San wanders the streets of Seoul, hands stuffed in his pockets, the loud wind in his ears for his only company. At home, whenever he stands up stiffly, there’s only him to laugh at his cracking joints. Well… he laughs at himself, to begin with. Then he doesn’t laugh.

One day, he’s wandering the streets again when he sees it. An ad for a travel agency.

There’s only wind in his ears as he considers it.

“A toast to San!” announces Hongjoong, voice forcibly cheerful. “Who’s going on a world tour!”

Eight glasses are lifted in the air; seven pairs of eyes look incredibly worried.

Someone wraps themselves around San as other voices chime in.

“San, fighting!”

“Let’s gooo!”

“World travel!” someone shouts in English.

San’s heart both heals and breaks again as he looks at his seven friends who dropped everything to wish him well.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he tells them wetly.

Maybe it’s Jongho’s knowing eyes that make him shed the first tear.

Maybe it’s how the others all know how much he’s hurting, and how utterly relieved San feels to be back with these seven other people.

No matter the reason, San cries at this moment, clinging to his former groupmates as they hug him goodbye. There’s promises to text, proclamations of staying up just for video chats. There’s also seven whispers of the same sentiment: I hope this can help you heal.

.

He meets you in a coffeeshop. Your coffeeshop, actually.

It’s his second visit, and for some reason, it’s one of his favorite places he’s found in his travels. Something about its atmosphere draws him in. The warmth. The way it has nooks where he can sit and people-watch. The way the food tastes nearly perfect every time. The way it’s so empty when he comes in for his breakfast.

The way it’s just a minute’s walk from his hotel.

Correction: It is his favorite establishment he’s found in his grand travel.

Truthfully...

The “grand travel” hasn’t been so grand. He’s jumped around the world a little, going wherever the wind blows, renting a room for however long the wind calms down. Leaving for the next city or town whenever it gets worse.

On good days, he can look around himself and feel his heart stir a little. Because he’s gotten to see some incredible things.

On bad days, he can feel the wind utterly drop. When it does, he’ll look around himself. He’ll wonder if he really wanted to see Canada that one time. Or if he just chose a country 12 hours different from Korea because maybe, just maybe, flipping his clock completely could flip his life around, too.

Today’s one of the better days, actually.

As he hands you his payment, you offer small talk.

Ask about his day.

He tells you he’s fine, that he could be much worse off, truly believing it. (But also believing he could be much better off, too.)

Something in your gaze seems to understand him.

“And how’s your day?” he offers, his pronunciation a little messy.

“It exists,” you reply. 

A mirror of him, at heart.

.

He comes into your coffeeshop the next day and knows it’s just going to be a daily thing until he leaves this city.

That one booth in the back left corner… It has good seats.

As he settles down with the same order he had gotten the last two days, he catches your eye. Smiles with his lips.

And something about that one thing makes him realize.

He hasn’t truly had anything like this in a while. The same food, three days in a row. Someone who’s met his eyes, three days in a row.

It’s another good day.

The howling wind grows just a little quieter.

.

“Two orders of today’s special and an einspänner?” you ask as he moves to the counter.

His eyebrows furrow. “Oh?”

“You’ve been here three days straight, exact same order,” you smile, “first customer of the day.”

“Ah.” He takes a moment to gather his words, unsure if this was accusatory or just observation. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I can—”

“No! It’s, ah, it’s nice. You’re always very pleasant, to me.” He recalls that first encounter, how you had seemed to understand the weight of his few words. “Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before this week.”

“You could say so.”

“Any plans for today?”

The wind pushing him around never made plans.

“Not really,” he admits.

“Taking it as you go?”

“You could say so.” He notices how you look at him with a measuring look. One that makes him feel seen, and he hasn’t felt that way for a very long time. But it isn’t an unwelcome feeling. “Do you have any recommendations? On what to do? Things you like?”

You smile bittersweetly. “I have some ideas.”

“Can you tell me a few?” The words come out of San’s mouth without thinking.

At that moment, the door opens with a whoosh, and another customer steps in.

“Tell... tell you what,” you say. “I have an employee coming in in half an hour. If you would like the company, I can give you those suggestions over a second cup of coffee?”

Meeting your eyes, something in him feels like hiding. But something else in him leaps at the offer. “I’m a slow eater. So yes.”

You smile again, a little wider.

His lips, too, twitch upwards of their own volition.

That day, San makes an itinerary for the first time on his trip—and, maybe, a friend.

.

After a long day of hiking, San collapses on his hotel room bed and feels a stirring of optimism in his chest. The weariness in his bones almost feels familiar. He had collapsed like this many times after concerts or performances.

He stares at the ceiling, consciously wondering for the first time on this trip, if he’s ready to face the wind.

His eyes land on his suitcase.

His hands move to unpack it.

And the wind in his ears, again, gets a little quieter.

.

As he walked into your coffeeshop the next day, he asks you to sit with him from the get-go.

You peer into his eyes, spotting equal measures of hope and uncertainty, and immediately drop your paperwork. “Of course.”

His conversation is nice; his personality is nicer. (Possibly his skin is nicest, but that’s irrelevant.)

.

Your conversations continue, and by the tenth day, you’re sharing the thoughts that sometimes scare you. From your worries about disappointing everyone to wondering if your degrees even mattered... you spill it all out. He does the same.

Which is scary, because you’ve only known him for ten days. Seven, really.

Based on the way he’s ducking his head right now, his story hanging in the air sadly, he must feel similarly.

(He hasn’t told anyone about his story, his sad state, since he left Korea. He doesn’t share every detail, but he says enough that both he and the wind in his ears feel very shaken.)

Forty minutes later, he stands to leave, and you hear some joints crack.

“Maybe the chiropractor?”

His smile in response is remorseful.

You stand, too, and feel your neck crack a little.

“Maybe we both can go?”

And the smile is a little less sad.

.

You have known San for two weeks now, and today, he enters the shop much more confidently than usual. With a shy smile (but genuine, you realize), he shows you pictures of a lake you had directed him to. He had caught it on a good day. As he lets you scroll through the pictures, you find that someone must have taken his picture for him.

You want to say something meaningful as you study the way his skin has grown so golden in these two weeks. The way his smile reaches his eyes.

“You look nice here,” you say simply.

That shy smile turns larger.

.

You don’t know if this is a bad habit, dropping everything to share breakfast with San every morning. But, what did it hurt anything? After you asked your employees to come in early to cover for you, they agreed too quickly.

Because they are amazing humans, you think.

And because they are ridiculous humans, they smile knowingly at each other as either you or him look at the other for a moment too long.

And, because you both are pathetic, San and you never notice.

.

By the third week, you wonder why you haven’t exchanged phone numbers.

Naturally, then, you laugh and casually give him your number after he admits getting lost yesterday.

“I know you’re not a damsel in distress or anything, but next time… just call me if you get lost.”

He doesn’t mean to look at you so intently after that, but he does.

You don’t look away.

Swallowing, he wonders if you can see the lingering sadness he feels, the wind still throwing him off balance sometimes. The weight of knowing how worried his hyungs are for him, the fear that he had done something to his body when he was younger, so it was all his fault somehow...

But as your gaze slips to his lips for just a moment, he also wonders if you are seeing what thousands of fans had once seen. Something worthy.

When your gaze moves back to his eyes, and you start talking about nonsense, he knows: You could see it all, and more, even.

San feels something stir in his chest, something warmer and kinder and more enticing than the thrall of dancing to thousands of cheers. 

When he finally finds it in himself to say goodbye, he can’t help but ask. “Can I call you when I’m not lost, too?”

.

Three days after that, San wakes and feels an impossibly strong urge to sing. Just something bright and loud. Something hopeful.

He pictures your coffeeshop and your face.

And he feels himself smiling widely.

Opening his phone, his fingers type faster than the wind:

Heading your way in 10 :)

.

That weekend, you go drinking together.

You’re both tipsy, sitting in a bar booth with your sides pressed together, and everything comes to head.

You’re both tipsy and warm, filters long lost, when San pours out the rest of the story to you. The side of the story that the wind in his ears usually hid in white noise.

It’s a euphoric story with deafeningly beautiful highs, but also a heartbreaking one with devastatingly ugly lows. But as he pours out the joys of standing on stage, of the laughter-filled, starlit walks back to the dorms, you know it was worth it to him.

And you also come to know, he didn’t choose to quit.

He keeps pouring drinks; keeps pouring out his emotional, earnest soul.

Midway through the night, your dulled head has just enough awareness to realize you are in love with that soul.

And as you have to wave away another glass, you will always hold onto the magnificent moment when he admits: “But I don’t feel sad about any of it when I’m with you.”

.

The next day, you wake up at your place. San’s lying beside you.

“Morning,” he groans.

If your head and body didn’t hurt so much, that alone would have inspired you to restart last night’s activities. 

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Same.”

Your legs are slightly brushing each others, but your torsos aren’t touching. It makes you feel sad. Then something in you melts when he shifts his weight closer to you so they are.

“Are”—you yawn—”we going to that… ugh…. waterfall today?”

“Not after last night.” He buries his face against your hair.

“Yeah…” Your head throbs, and you groan again. “That was a very bad idea, 0/10 would not recommend.”

San makes an offended sound in the back of his throat. “The alcohol or the sex?”

Yawning again, you can barely reply. “You know which one.”

He kisses your head and yawns as well. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Soon.”

“Soon?”

“But... not right now.”

After yawning together, he chuckles against your hair. “Yeah, sleep... for now.”

.

As you both close your eyes again, San can only hear two things:

One, the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Two, the soft hum of your ceiling fan.

He falls asleep knowing:

There’s no wind.

.

[ateez taglist] — @seongghwaa​ @s1ardusk​ @yunwoo​​ @toffee-hwa​ @yunhowhoitiss​ @sippn-the-tae​ @yeocult​ @barsformars​ (thank you for your support! I love y’all so much!!! <3 <3 <3)

[jae-daddy]

Chubby (16)

Jaebum AU Series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / seventeen / 

pairing: jaebum x reader  genre: romance, drama, mature, angst plot: you are getting bullied and jaebum decides to help you - finally the past is in the open  warnings: bullying, death - you can skip this one if its too much  a/n: this isn’t well written but its too dark and i dont want to write it again. i hope y’all enjoy it 

Five years ago:

Nora’s bobbed hair brushed her shoulders as she tilted her head back and let out a booming laugh. One thing you had realised about her was that she was truly and entirely free. She didn’t care that others were looking, she didn’t care for the judgemental eyes. She only did what she pleased, and what made her happy. 

You admired her for that. 

The girl next to her was a bit more timid. She was a bit more like you. 

Nora had convinced you that it wouldn’t be bad meeting her friend. She promised you that you would like her, and you did. 

You liked Jenny. 

She was kind and soft spoken. She spoke to you respectfully, didn’t make you feel left out, and laughed at everything you said. 

Nora was right, you liked her bestfriend Jenny and you were had fun today. 

“Aren’t you glad all three of us went on this date?” Nora asked looking between the two of you. You both smiled, nodding. “I knew doing something would make us better friends than studying together. You can’t talk when you’re studying.” 

Nora continued talking as the three of you walked back towards the bus stop from the arcade. She was right, though. You did have fun, and it was nice to actually talk and hang out. The other times the three of you hung out was in the library or at Nora’s home studying for the upcoming exam. 

But now the exams had passed, and all three of you decided to have some fun. 

“Oh, we would have had so much fun if we all went to school together,” Jenny added, dreamily. You and Nora shared a look, but didn’t say anything and just nodded. 

Jenny didn’t know what was happening at school to Nora and you. You both couldn’t bring yourself to own up to it. You knew it wasn’t your fault, but it was embarrasing to admit. Especially to someone who loved and cared for you. 

Nora quickly changed the topic, and pointed towards a bouquet of flowers. 

“Look at that!” She gasped, as she stopped and studied it. You looked at the arrangement and saw nothing special, just a bunch of pretty flowers. “That is absolutely genius. These are all made of ‘filler’ flowers,” she ran her hands gently over it before she turned to look at you both in excitement, “entirely.” 

She started going on about flowers, and their typical arrangements as you continued walking. Jenny laughed and asked the meanings of a few flowers that Nora expertly answered. She wanted to be a florist. 

“Well, it was fun hanging out with you guys,” Jenny smiled at you both as she stopped at her bus stop. “I wish I could go home with you both, but my parents are having this dinner party that I have to attend.”

You waved her goodbye, as she climbed on the bus, before you and Nora walked off. 

“Oh, I needed to get some refills for my pen,” you remembered as you passed a stationary shop. “Is it okay if I quickly get it?” 

Nora nodded telling you she’ll wait for you outside.

You wish that you had forgotten about those refills that day. 

You wish you had kept on walking.

You wished you dragged her into the shop with you, because when you came out she wasn’t there. 

You called her phone, your phone’s battery dangerously gleaming red. She didn’t answer. You called again, and walked a bit further checking shops as you passed them looking for her. You couldn’t find her. 

She wasn’t picking up her phone. 

It wasn’t until you passed an alleyway and heard laughter when you froze. 

The ringtone of her phone rang from deep within the empty alleyway. You heard the muffled sounds of the group of girls. You knew them, their voices haunted you endlessly, and now they were saying her name. 

“Look, Nora,” one of sneered as she pulled on her dark locks making her face up, as she hissed in pain. “Your poor friend is calling.” 

As the view became clearer to you, your stomach twisted as you took in Nora. 

Her short black hair was matted from the wet murky ground. Her cheeks red, and littered with marks. The corner of her lips was bleeding, her whole body covered in murky green mud. 

Your heart pricked as you caught the look in her eyes. The girl standing beside you five minutes ago was no longer. There was no humour, no happiness, no light in those eyes. It stared off in the distance, focusing somewhere far away, as one of them slapped her across the cheek. 

Nora’s head twisted to the side, and her widened as she noticed you. 

Run. It told you. Don’t come into this. Run. 

“What are you looking at bitch?” One of them kicked her, before looking your way. You quickly ducked out of sight before she could see you, and reached for you phone. 

Don’t jump in. Get help.  

Your hands were shaking, your mind racing. You weren’t sure if your heart was beating at this point because you were so frightened. You were scared. 

You were scared at what was happening. You were scared they will find you. You were scared that whoever you call might not be able to help you. You were scared that you wouldn’t be able to help Nora. 

You heard a sickening cry escape Nora as another kick landed on her stomach. 

Your vision went hazy, as your trembling fingers dialled 111. 

Three short rings and then, “Hello, 111. What’s your emergency?” 

“Hello, my friend is getting beaten up at the alleyway near the supermarket on Elliot Road, please send help. Please hurry.” You rushed out, your voice shaking and barely above a whisper. “Please. Please. Please.”

You cried into the phone, as you Nora cried out again.

“Okay, calm down, just tell me --”

“Hello?” You called, frantically. “Hello? No. Wait.” 

No. No. No. This can’t be happening. 

Your phone died. 

No. 

Panic rose from the pits of your stomach, as hot tears streamed from your eyes. 

No. 

You heard another sickening thud before Nora yelped in pain again. You clasped your hands against your ear, and tightly shut your eyes, as her screams turned into sobs. 

It didn’t help though. 

You heard everything. 

Nora came into your mind, from that time in the nursery. I know you want to protect me. I want to protect you too.

Bile threatened to wretch up your throat but your held it back. You felt sick. Sick  from the sounds of them hurting her. SIck from the cries that left her. Sick from sitting here like a coward. 

Even though Nora had told you not to jump in, you knew that she would. You knew that she wouldn’t have thought about it twice and given her all to protect you. You knew she would that for you, because she was your friend. 

You opened your eyes. Your heart shivering, but courage and the need to help your friend brighter than it fear. 

You opened your eyes and it locked with wide brown ones. 

They stared into yours; anger, disappointment, hatred. 

“Jenny,” you gasped. 

She didn’t reply. She looked away from you onto the scene that was taking place behind you. 

Someone must have noticed her. 

“Hey you! Who the fuck are you?” They yelled out, threateningly. 

Jenny didn’t back down. Instead, her eyes turned darker as she began running towards them. You stood up, your gaze following her, but your feet stuck on the ground. 

Jenny punched one of them on the jaw making her fall onto the ground. She turned to another, raising her fist one more time, before two grabbed her. They punched her stomach, making her double over in pain. 

Coward. 

You couldn’t move. 

Jenny fell on her knees onto the ground, pain painting her face for a moment. She looked up, and spat at the girl with red hair. Her face turned vivid in rage as she kicked Jenny on her stomach, and then her face before turning towards Nora. 

Pathetic.

You remained unmoving. 

“This is all your fault bitch!” The red haired girl roared as she lifted her foot of the ground before smashing it against Nora’s face. 

Crack. 

Your heart stopped. 

Nora fell to the floor. Her eyes open, looking into yours. 

Red spilled from her head, mixing in with the dark murky ground. 

You couldn’t breathe. 

You fell onto your knees. You felt numb. A loud ring rung through your head. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry. You wanted to run over to her and hold her. But you couldn’t. 

She looked into your eyes. Her dark brown eyes always full of light was slowly dulling. 

Her lips turned into a smile, blood spilled out. 

Your chest heaved. 

She smiled at you, her warm eyes holding yours. 

And then she was gone. 

You couldn’t look away from her unfocused eyes. You couldn’t move. 

You felt a rush of movement around you. 

People in uniform rushing in. They took the girls. 

They crowded around the body. 

They tried to calm Jenny down as her clothes stained red with blood as she held her best friend and sobbed. 

She was gone. 

You couldn’t do anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

                _____________________________________________

The photo from that day was hidden away in a box in your cupboard. But it never truly was hidden, you never forget where it was. You knew exactly what it looked like. 

The three of you smiling. 

You tried not to look at the photo alot. Your mum had taken everything else that reminded you of that day, but this photo you had stashed away. You knew it was pointless to ignore it. You couldn’t pretend it away. 

You couldn’t pretend that if you had something, anything that day, she would still be alive. 

Your eyes stung as you looked at her sharp eyes, holding so much life and light. Her gleaming smile, and just the way she was. 

You missed her. 

But you didn’t know if you deserved to. 

You didn’t know if you deserved anything. 

Your guilt was the cage. She was the tower that had locked you away. 

It was the happy memories you celebrated together. The sad memories you shared together. It was that smile she gave you as she took her last breath. 

Each and every moment of hers shaped that guilt that built the tower you had locked yourself into. 

You couldn’t get out of there. There was no way out. 

Jenny was there to remind you of it. As if you could ever forget. 

She was nothing like that girl from the photo. You had killed her that day too. 

She sat outside your tower, slithering, hissing; reminding you. She wouldn’t let anyone come close. She will keep you locked up to torment you forever. 

You had done this.

She told you this everyday. 

Her raging words, spitting fire, unforgiving; scaring everyone away. 

This is who you were. This is the prison you had built for yourself. 

You lay on your bed, as tears rolling down onto your ears. You didn’t move. You didn’t do anything just let the tears fall out of you. 

It wasn’t like you wanted freedom from this. You didn’t want to escape. You knew you deserved to be here. You knew you had to be here. You knew you didn’t deserve anything better.

Your phone buzzed. 

One new message: Jaebum

You didn’t open it. 

Instead, you covered your eyes with your elbow as a sob left you. 

You felt your heart clench as guilt ran your blood bitter. 

You were happy in your tower. You were content with the dragon guarding you. This is what you deserved. You didn’t want anything more. 

But then, in the distance you could see someone. He was walking closer. His face invaded your dreams. It made your heart glow. 

You didn’t want it. 

You didn’t deserve it. 

He made you dream of happiness. He made you believe in being free. 

You didn’t want it. 

You didn’t deseve it. 

But now he stood outside your tower. He’s telling you to let your hair down; to allow him up. He’s got his sword ready, glistening in the moonlight. He knows the dragon is near, and he wants to slay it. 

But you want it. 

You don’t deserve it. 

Instead, you turn away from the window. You turn away from him, and towards the empty corners of the room. 

You don’t deserve to be happy.