#we never get tired of hearing that people like our stuff

[vera-dauriac]

Someone just left a comment on one of my favorite but least read fics from 8 years ago, and honestly, week made.

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[zephyrchama]

Dark Past

A common demon on the street caught your eye. You slowed, almost to a halt, just to gaze at them. They paid you no mind at all. You were two strangers with no connection in the middle of a crowded street. As they passed, you turned your neck for one final glance before continuing on.

The seven demons you were walking with noticed your little stare. Some of them exchanged quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen that random demon before. They didn't look special. Leviathan paused in his tracks to glare daggers of envy at the stranger, cursing them in his mind for stealing your attention.

"Someone you know?" Satan asked. It was hard to hear him over Mammon shouting, "Who was that?"

"What?" You fixed your eyes on them, confused by the sudden outburst. Beelzebub tenderly placed a hand on your back and guided you around some uneven pavement.

"Who was that demon you were staring at?" Belphegor asked.

"I wasn't staring at anyone."

"Yes, you were." Lucifer didn't question you, but he crossed his arms expectantly. His brothers would do all the work of wrestling an answer out of you for him.

"I saw you rubberneck so hard, I thought you were going to chase after them!" Asmodeus must have been exaggerating. You only glanced at that demon for a second max, or so you believed.

You didn't think it was a big deal, and brushed the incident off with, "they just reminded me of something." You hoped that would suffice as an answer. It did not.

"And what would that be?" Satan sounded like a courtroom interrogator trying to corner a lying defendant.

At some point, the eight of you had come to a stop in front of a closed and shuttered business, letting the foot traffic flow around you. The seven of them boxed you in and blocked your view of the rest of the street, circling you like a pack of hungry sharks. You waved your hands at the ridiculous bunch.

"I was just looking! What's it matter to you guys?"

Mammon got right up in your face. "I'm in charge of protectin' you! I can't be lettin' you stare at every chump lookin' to take advantage of ya!"

Asmodeus pulled him aside, claiming, "you should just look at me! I'm the only demon you'll never get tired of staring at." He gave you a wink of fan service that would have sent anyone else into a lustful fervor.

"I... also... don't want you looking at other people," Leviathan mumbled while lacking the courage to look you in the eye. His hand fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket.

"There are many dangers in the Devildom. You know that we have a responsibility to keep you safe, both as an exchange student and as someone very dear to us." Lucifer always had a way with words.

"So, who was that?" Beelzebub asked. He was followed up by Belphegor wondering, "do you know them?"

"No! They just..." You took a deep breath before your admission. "Ok. They look like the demon I would pretend to be when I was a kid."

There it was, the truth. Out in the open. There was a long beat of silence.

Belphegor was the first to go "huh?"

Leviathan caught on quickly. "Like, a demonsona? You had a demonsona?"

"It's something a lot of human kids do," you hurried to explain. "On playgrounds and stuff. When we're little we imagine we're secretly vampires and demons and cool monsters. It's fun but we grow out of it, usually."

Belphegor tried to clarify. "So you pretended you were a demon, and that you looked like the one who just walked by?"

You swear you heard Lucifer snort, trying to hold back his laughter.

"That is sooooooooo cute!" Asmodeus did not hold back. He started cracking up, his high-pitched laughter ringing around the street, and wiped a tear from his eye. "So, for years you played pretend demon?"

"Want me to go get them and ask for their picture?" Beelzebub offered. "I can catch up pretty quickly.

"No!" The offer was mortifying. "Lets just go, we have to finish our errands."

"You had a demonsona," Leviathan repeated with a smile and a chuckle. "That is kind of cute."

"Why somebody like that loser? Why not imagine someone cooler, like me?" Mammon flexed his wings in a show of vanity, as if he could make child-you change their mind.

"I didn't know you then, Mammon. I was, like, ten. All demons were cool."

"That's funny. Humans are so silly," Belphegor chimed.

"I was a child!" You spun to look at Belphegor, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. "You don't get to make fun of me, seeing as you pretended to be human when we met. You're thousands of years old! Act your age!"

"Ok, but I can do that because I'm a demon." Belphegor explained. He ran a hand through his hair, making his horns briefly disappear. "It's what we do."

"Yeah, it's different for us," Satan agreed.

Lucifer cleared his throat and stated, "I imagine we should continue this conversation while walking, now that we have an answer. Unless you lot want to spend all night on the street." He took a step back and gestured down the road in the direction you all were headed.

Sensing an escape from this topic, you nudged your way through the wall of demon brothers and followed after Lucifer, hoping to leave this memory behind. One by one, everyone else followed suit.

Leviathan sped up to match his pace to yours. Once the group was back on track and you thought the conversation was in the past, he asked, "so did you imagine having any cool powers?"

[octoberautumnbox]

Off*IZ: Like It Like I Love It

Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, doggy, semi-public, semi-mirror, semi-exhibitionist, office sex, clothed sex, sweat if it counts?, standing doggy, anal, anal creampie, little bit of thigh stuff I think

Word count: 4.2k

Part of Off*IZ Hours

a/n: i worked on so many other drafts on and off this month i really wasnt sure if I'd be able to pull something off this month but we back to our regular programming LMAO :DDDD

“Thank you, everyone. I know we took longer than we should have,” the project head places his glasses on his forehead before rubbing his eyes, “but we pulled through today. Good work.” All around the conference table, you and your coworkers stretch in various ways and groans emanate from random people in the room. As people start to get up and leave, you overhear muttering about plans after work and what each other’s weekends will be like. 

You do your own stretches and check your watch: 7:54 p.m., nearly three hours later than you should have left. A sigh escapes you, finding yourself already tired from dealing with the lowlife drunks on the bus you’ll be riding with in about half an hour. You grasp around in the dark for a bright side to all of this, but nothing’s coming up so far, except...

“Hey, heading out?” Miss Jo taps you on your shoulder a bit roughly: not enough to hurt, but enough to shove you a little. She stands behind you, her fingers delicately wrapped around the edge of her folder, and a smile painting her cute face. Over the course of your tenure in the company, as well as the fact that the Operational Support Department is only two people strong, you and your boss have gotten to know each other very well.

“Maybe you wanna have a drink with me? God knows we both need it,” she giggles. The petite woman abruptly shuts her eyes solemnly and sucks air in through her teeth, then releases it in a drawn-out yawn. She blinks out the sleep in her eyes before attempting to look at you again. 

“Are you sure? You seem a bit tired.” You spin her around to face away from you and place your hands on her shoulders. You push your thumbs firmly and massage the spot in the middle of her back, and tell her, “Breathe, Miss Jo.”

Her head lolls back, showing you a dimly glowing smile and fluffy cheeks underneath a pair of half-lidded eyes. She breathes out slowly through her mouth, her lips parted ever so slightly, and good thing everyone’s already left the conference room at this point, else they’d start asking questions. 

“Maybe I am tired…” she breathes out slowly, only loud enough for you and no one else to hear. As you listen, your hands travel down her slim arms and onto her waist, and as she tilts her head to the side, you plant a kiss right on her neck. “Maybe… maybe I do want to go home,” her moan comes carefully, as if fighting back a mountain of urges. “Maybe I want to, I don’t know, take a shower?” Your hands slide up her sides, cupping her petite boobs through her top. She giggles again, she brings her hands to yours. 

“And no more ‘Miss Jo,’ please. We're done for the day, remember?” She pulls your hands off her, winking, before hurriedly dragging you out of the conference room. Her steps are joyful and frantic towards the parking lot with you still in tow. She never looks back, one clear goal in mind: get you home, take her shower, get fucked out. A perfect Friday night, like God intended. 

She’s so focused that she fails to notice until it’s too late that you yank her into a secluded printing room, lock the door, and forget to turn on the light. She stumbles into your chest, and the dim reflections of nightlife from outside the window are the only things that let you see the fire in her eyes. 

Yuri wraps her arms around your neck, trapping you in a torrid kiss as your tongues dance around each other, swapping spit and breathy moans. Her lips are soft on yours, with hints of strawberry from her lip balm that only make you want her more. 

Hook her leg under your arm, grip her ass through her jeans, grind her crotch against yours. All she can do at this point is hold on to you for dear life as your kiss continues, never giving her the privilege of catching her breath. In spite of all this, her nerve to fight back surfaces: her tongue enters your mouth and licks everywhere she can reach, and she shamelessly lets her spit leak from her luscious lips and onto her chin. 

At this point the heat gets to both of you, not only from each other but also from the general lack of air-conditioning in the room this late into the night. Sweat collects into bigger and bigger drops on her neck, and your determination to steal every single one overtakes you. You kiss and lick over every spot of exposed and vulnerable skin you can find, and it messes with her head somehow even more than forcing kisses on her ever did.

A bright idea enters your head though, and not so gently, you shove and pin her to a nearby wall. A deep thud rings across the room, followed by a slight creak and groan from the wood holding up the wall inside it. The impact forces air out her lungs, but ultimately she regains her breath and stares at you, shellshocked, before releasing her grip on you. 

��Don’t forget, asshole,” she grunts, playing trying to get free, “I'm still your fucking boss.” Yuri almost slams her face into yours, sorely missing the feeling of your lips on hers. Her tongue travels all over inside your mouth, and what can you do but show her the same sort of fervor?

“I'm also still fucking my boss,” you choke out, still struggling against the onslaught of Yuri's tongue. All the while, her needy moans fill the room with every single hump on her crotch. She tries speeding it up, but with how you're holding her ass, you're fully in control. 

And she fucking loves it. 

With one hand keeping you in place, her other hand works on stripping herself of her jeans. Your position gradually gets more awkward, but the moment her pants leave her ass and you feel up her cheeks, now only covered with a pair of thin lace panties, your hunger for your boss's delicious body only grows.

Her pants drop to around her ankles and suddenly they're gone from her world. Yuri's next target is your slacks, and she makes even quicker work of them. It takes just the blink of an eye before they're gone too, and she’s alternating between palming your stiffening cock and massaging your balls through your underwear.

“I didn't know I was this tired,” she remarked, her breath unstable against your mouth. Her head rests against the wall, her arms on your shoulders, and you finally let her catch her breath. “Oh, by the way,” she wheezes between deep inhales, “we’re setting up the laptops for the new hires tomorrow– I need you to come in at 8.” 

“Come in here? Like ‘office’ here? Tomorrow’s Saturday,” you say, mixing into your voice a tone of sternness. You caress her cheek, and she nuzzles into your palm. She knows exactly what’s coming up next, but she waits for you to let her. It has to be you, you both know it, so as your hand meets her shoulder and pushes her down, she falls slowly, gracefully, to her knees.

Eye level with your bulge, she runs her tongue along her lips seductively while looking up at you. Her fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear and she pulls down slowly, teasing you when she knows she shouldn’t. Your cock springs up and nearly misses her chin, but she makes a show of catching it with her face. She smiles up at you, your cock resting on her beautiful features, all the while she peppers light kisses along the underside of your shaft. 

“Yeah, 8 a.m. tomorrow. We’re setting up VPNs and loading all the shit onto them.” Her kisses soon turn into licks, as if she’s made it her mission in life to trace every single one of your cock’s veins using her tongue. Her eyes flutter closed as she relishes in the taste and scent of your manhood, hellbent on worshiping it like the slut she knows she is. 

“Fine, but I’m spending the night at yours. Make me come into work on a weekend, feed me breakfast.”

“Fine, but you’re driving tomorrow. Can’t do it if my legs don’t work.”

She retreats back for a bit, lining up your cock with her mouth as she eyes it with a lustful greed. She comes in close again, and her tongue swirls around the tip of your cock as she slowly takes more and more in. Her lips seal around your shaft, sucking it like it’s the feast of her lifetime. 

Take advantage of her position, guide her head to rest against the wall. She almost doesn’t notice, but the moment she does, her eyes meet yours to send a single, unmistakeable, desperate message: “Please.”

You plunge your cock deep into her mouth, using the wall behind her to force her to take as much of your length as she can. She chokes and gags, but ultimately her tongue never leaves the underside of your dick and chooses instead to use the copious amounts of spit to make her blowjob all the more pleasurable for you. Yuri’s cheeks hollow out as she tries sucking your soul out, and only then are you made aware of the lewd slurping sounds she’s making. Her adoration of your cock makes itself known like it always does, and you wonder for a split second how lucky you came to be to have such a nice boss. 

She pushes herself off of you with a loud pop, and you find her hair unkempt and sticking to her forehead in strands, licking her lips like she’s just had the best meal of her life. She flashes a smile at you before getting up, and what comes next feels like the most natural thing for the two of you. She gets up and pulls you by the necktie toward the window, you’ve always known she was this type of girl, and she places both palms on the glass. 

“You know what to do.” Her voice is deep and serious, and you're compelled to obey. Your fingers slip under the waistband of her panties, and you pull down to reveal her plump ass. The wet feeling running down Yuri's legs makes her moan quietly, and as the fabric leaves her body you see her thighs glisten with slick and perspiration, reflecting the clueless city's lights.

Your hands travel up her thighs, and you feel her goosebumps under your touch. Now standing behind her, you take in the situation: your boss is bent over, presenting her bare ass and dripping pussy to you, while her hands are splayed onto the cool, transparent glass of the printing room window. Place your hands on her hips, grip securely and show her how bad you want her. Pull her slowly towards you, and as you do, find her looking back at you with unbridled lust in her gaze.

The tip of your cock meets her sinful entrance, and her gaze remains steady and burning on you. “Come on already,” she taunts seductively. She bites her lip in anticipation and you decide not to make her wait any longer. 

You rub your hard cock on her pussy lips, coating your shaft with her juices, before finally plunging yourself into her. Her lips part for you, and as you push deeper into her wet cavern she lets out a low, guttural moan. Her reflection in the glass shows you her eyes are shut tight and tighter still as she feels you slowly filling up her pussy, and her fingers flex against the glass as she tries to find something, anything, to hold onto. 

“Fuck– God, the first one is always the best, huh?” A casual laugh follows her statement, and she looks back at you again. A tiny smile decorates the corners of her mouth, and the odd lighting around you gives her an aura of mysterious, forbidden beauty. 

“Will you behave for me, Yuri?” You rub and grope her ass as you say it, threatening a spank. It doesn't help though, you know your boss loves being put in her place. The thought you implant into her head causes her pussy to quiver, and in turn causes your cock to twitch against her walls. 

“Oh my go– Yes, daddy,” she surrenders, “I'll be your good baby girl.” She lets her head hang forward, having completely given up control to you, all primed and ready to receive your blessing. Her breaths are deep, slow, ragged, choosing instead to focus solely on the onslaught of pleasure you're about to inflict on her tight, delicious, fertile body.

Thrust into her again, as deep as her cunt lets you, and your tip kisses the entrance of her womb. She lurches slightly forward with a grunt, and you almost swear her pussy is made just for you. The way her walls clench around your cock as it twitches again and again inside her makes you think you’re the key to her lock, a match made in hell.

“Daddy, do I feel good? Do you like my pussy?” Yuri’s moans and pleas for your approval only spur you on. She melts under your touch, your hand returning to her ass and threatening her pleasure again. It’s about time you give her what she wants, and she has been a good girl so far, so why the fuck not?

You raise your palm and she watches, her eyes trailing higher and higher. All at once, you bring your hand down with the force and speed Yuri knows is perfect, what she knows she deserves. Your skin meets hers and a slap rings clear across the room, followed by an immoral moan escaping from her throat. 

“Fuck, daddy! It hurts so good–” she gasps, all the while you maintain a slow pace. Your thrusts in her are rhythmic and steady, but in no way soft or merciful. With every pump of pleasure you deliver into her body from behind, she lurches forward again and again, absolutely no time at all to recover with the cumulative brain fog clouding her thoughts, all the while her tight little pussy clenches and squeezes your cock like it’s the last time she’ll ever have you. 

Keep fucking her deep and rough, keep forcing your will onto her body. She submits wholeheartedly to you, pushing her ass back on you each time you shove your cock into her, trying to steal more mind-numbing goodness from you. As if having lost control of her voice, her moans are continuous if not for her need to breathe every once in a while. On one hand, you know her body well, and it’s telling you that she’s growing impatient – she signed up for a railing after all. On the other hand, so what? It’s your fucktoy to use however you want to.

Yank her hair back, pull her right up against your chest. One hand on her toned tummy, the other wrapped around her slender, sweaty neck. Her own hands stay respectfully splayed on the glass, and she’s damn near defenseless like this: she wouldn’t dare defy you in any way. Whisper right into her ear, teasingly and tauntingly, “Until what time do we stay tomorrow?”

She chokes back a sob, only half-successful, only half-focused. “N-not later than one th-thirty,” she struggles, on the verge of tears, “only eighte-teen unitssss…” She sucks as much air as she can through her teeth, your slow and methodical onslaught on her sex unrelenting. “We… we…” Her brain fog must be so thick right now, having finally lost the ability to form complete thoughts. It’s now you know there’s nothing left of her except the desire for more of her ecstasy, just the way you like her. 

All at once, thrust fast and thrust hard. It’s something she couldn’t have possibly predicted, and her surprise numbs her entire body save for her pussy that convulses violently around your cock. Her velvet walls squeeze and massage your entire length, and her love juices coat your shaft before the rest make its way down her creamy, jiggling thighs. She screams loud as her face is smushed against the glass, her arms pinned against the window pane for as much support as she can get. Each following thrust into her pushes her up and up against the glass even more, until there’s no more space between her and the window, nor between you and her. 

Completely victim to you, her eyes wander up and up until they point to the ceiling. Her mouth hangs open as her breath fogs up the glass, still punctuated with rhythmic grunts each time your tip kisses the entrance of her womb. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she repeats with every thrust, rubbing her face slightly more against the window. If only she could still fathom how easily someone could look up and see her taking your dick, but that's not important now. Her eyes are rolled to the back of her head, her breathing is unsteady, and the flex of her fingers tells you again that she's close. 

Deny her climax just a little more, you're sure she'll understand. Just as you push back into her, eliciting her next crass word, you forcefully pull out of her heat. She tightens impossibly hard again in an effort to keep you inside her, but the sheer amount of her slick fails her. A few seconds pass and she's able to look down, and the sight of your thick and hard cock between her thighs and right up against her pussy does something to her head. It's exactly when her tongue peeks from her mouth and runs all over her lips that you know she's desperate, reduced to nothing more than a simple-minded slut who wants you and you alone. 

“I'm gonna take your ass, baby girl, and you're gonna fucking like it.” Your words are gentle yet daunting against her eardrums, and her pussy lips quiver against your cock again as she jerks her hips forward exactly once and releases the perfect amount of her juices onto your dick. “Yes, daddy…” she replies, holding back her orgasm for a few more moments, knowing that you like it best when she cums while you’re inside her. 

Yuri waits in anticipation as you poke her asshole with your cock. Her eyes draw shut, head leaning solemnly on the glass, as if praying that she survives the rough anal fucking she's about to receive. 

Since when did you get so mean? Making a lady wait like this. And yet, the way she squirms in depraved pleasure under the constant threat of your cock is just so delicious, you really can't help but use her, play with her like this. 

Having had your fill of teasing her, you give her exactly what she wants. You enter her puckered hole slowly, and yet she takes you in like the good girl she always aims to be. The walls of her ass are just as pleasurable as her pussy, and her tightness in her back entrance is just as perfect as her cunt. The slick coating your cock is her only saving grace against having her asshole torn apart, but with the way she clenches around you so well and how she groans in ecstasy, you think maybe she wouldn’t mind either way. 

Your boss half-screams as you invade her repeatedly from behind, starting slow and steady while tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. Her sweaty cheek still on the window, you watch as a line of spit runs from her lip down the pane, just as a drunkard wobbling across the sidewalk in the street down below finally catches you two in the act. It seems he's still figuring out what he's seeing, so you have just a few more moments left in the printing room before the dots connect in his head.

“G–guh,” Yuri grunts as she taps against the glass. It seems she spotted him too, and is trying to warn you of the same. “It doesn't matter, baby, I'll take care of it.” Your reassurance works a bit too well, and her eyes shut again as she breathes out and relaxes. 

Stay true to your promise, make sure she gets a hell of a taste of the night she’s only about to have. Quickly, carelessly, ruthlessly, piston deep into her asshole. Her walls try their hardest to accommodate you, but ultimately lose the fight and are forced apart anyway. 

“Aaahhhh– AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!” Yuri’s heavenly voice is corrupted to sing a perverted symphony. She’s reduced again, from your boss to your personal slut to now just some instrument for your unholy pleasure. Each thrust into her ass sends her riding up the window again, smearing her spit and perspiration all over the glass and her slick all over her creamy thighs. You shoot a cursory look back to the drunk on the street, noticing his eyes widening as his fried brain starts its search for words. You’re running out of time. 

Pound her mercilessly, remind her of her place in your own shared little world. All it takes is just a few more thrusts into her hole until she finally lets it all loose. Your moans mix with hers in the secluded space, and her willingness to serve you brings you ever closer to the edge. 

Just as the drunkard figures out how to point up and mumble his most basic words, you explode right into your boss, filling her plump ass up with your thick and hot seed. A shameless scream rips across her throat, “FUCKKKKK!!!” and her ass tightens around your cock like she owes her life to you, hell-bent on repaying her debt in kind tenfold. Streams of her own cum squirt out of her in jets, splattering on the wall and all over her crotch and thighs. She bucks her hips again and again, having lost any semblance of control over her body and mind, each spurt of your baby batter pushing itself into her body simultaneously pushing another of the already very scarce thoughts out of her head. What’s worse is it keeps coming, the realization dawning on you just as her ass overflows and your cum starts running down her legs, that your desire and output were heightened severely by how pent-up the both of you were. 

You pull Yuri down and duck to the floor right as the drunk finally musters enough of his wits together to point and scream. You hear him from the ground, and as far as you can tell he’s there on the street pointing up at an empty window and gathering weird looks from the other passers-by. All the while, you’ve just finished pumping your boss full of cum while she’s still squirming and jerking weakly as her own climax dies down. 

The room once filled with moans and grunts is now silent save for your combined heavy breathing. The heat once again makes itself known to the both of you, best evidenced by her sweat pooling on the ground where her head lay. Pulling out of her, more of your cum flows out of her ass, deepening Yuri’s breathing as she tries wiping more sweat off her brow.

“You good?” Your question is far too innocent for what the two of you just did. All she can do in response is to nod slightly, and maybe offer a drained but satisfied smile. Confirming her condition, you lean over and kiss her on the cheek before lying back down next to her, giving yourself a moment as well to catch your own breath. 

Yuri turns and places her head on your chest, rising and falling with your breathing. She feels your heartbeat and synchronizes her breathing with it, grateful for some semblance of structure back into her life, but at the same time her dependence on you grows yet again, just like she loves it. 

“We can maybe do breakfast muffins tomorrow on the way, no time to cook and all.” You wrap your arm around her and secure her in a cozy embrace. The floor is much cooler than the air in the higher altitudes of the enclosed space you two occupy, and the situation threatens to steal you off to slumber. 

Yuri manages a nod and a mumble and a kiss on your neck. She pushes herself off the floor, yawns, and stretches. “Do you wanna just come in Sunday instead? Stay the weekend with me?” she asks earnestly, crawling to your discarded clothes to retrieve. She hands you yours, and as she does you plant a wet kiss on her lips. 

“As if being here on Sunday is better than Saturday.” 

“Literally nobody's here on Sunday. We can turn up the aircons.” Your boss nuzzles into your neck again, evidently still addicted to your essence. Her afterglow and the low lights only enhance her beauty to near-godlike levels, and it works perfectly to her advantage.

“Fine. But your ass is mine all weekend.”

She giggles, “Fine, as if it isn't already.”

~~~

a/n: for everyone who reads this far look forward to more off*iz from our other very lovely writers!

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons the Mothman should die, collectively written by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel:

Coding for Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Pentious, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, pretty much everyone

TW: References to abuse

He’s holding back Angel’s progress. (Vaggie, is killing really necessary?) (I am concerned about going after a Vee)

I’m hungry (ALASTOR!)

Ms. Angel gets nervous when on the phone with him.

His coat is tacky.

He’s a bug! And bugs must be DESTROYED!

So Angel stops feeling like he has to be so damn fake. This is getting on my fucking nerves.

HE LICKED CHARLIE!!! (Vaggie, wait it’s okay.)

Color scheme sucks. Purple AND red?!

He makes Angel sad, NOBODY should make Angel sad.

Those obnoxious glasses just make him look stupid.

He’s a manipulative, abusive prick.

ANGEL DIDN'T KNOW BOUNDARIES WERE A THING?!?!?!?!?!? (Honestly that explains a lot.)

NOBODY deserves to be in an abusive relationship.

Too many arms. Nobody needs that many. (...Angel has that many?) (Well maybe he shouldn't.)

Ms. Angel keeps coming home all messy!!

He’s ruining hearts for everyone. Me and Angel already have enough. At least those are on our bodies, what’s his excuse?

Hearts should not even be ASSOCIATED with Valentino, THIS IS NOT LOVE.

I can do without all the sexual depravity. While I am in Hell this is NOT one of the reasons.

If I have to hear that ringtone one more damn time-

The Eggies found some of his films. They should never be exposed to such horrors. Now I have to explain what “a sex” is.

Makes picture shows that are a disgrace to the idea of “entertainment.”

He’s making a bad name for Uncle Ozzie. This is NOT “lust.”

So we don’t have to listen to another one of Angel’s pornos. (Agreed, it’s quite horrifying!!)

So Ms. Angel isn’t tired when she gets home and can save the kinky stuff for then :) (Niff, really?)

So the kid stops coming home with bruises and cuts that I fix up at 3 am. (Husk, what the fuck?)

Because what the FUCK Valentino?

He keeps forcing Angel to do drugs. (HE WHAT?! Like crack??) (That but also I’m pretty sure whatever comes out of him is an aphrodisiac.)

I want to use his antenna as a backscratcher

Has that whole red color thing going on. Only I am allowed to wear red :) (Al, your text isn’t even red.) (My what?)

What is up with his red spit and smoke? Seriously disgusting.

The red stuff from him may be what allows Velvette to create her “Love Potions” which funds Vax’s stupid endeavors (Do you mean Vox?) (Who?)

FOR MY COLLECTION :D (…yeah okay.)

Really is making a bad name for Overlords. And not in the fun way.

Angel’s shown trauma signs of abuse in our meetings. Im pretty sure it’s Valentino.

Make a doll out of his fur so I have a main villain for roach puppet shows!!!

His only purpose is to keep Veks occupied but considering Vixen’s inane attempts to catch my attention it isn’t working.

So Angel can have his soul and he and Husk can run off into the sunset together like in a fanfiction!!! (Ah, yes that would be nice.) (WE WHAT?!) (Oh Husker, denial doesn’t suit you.)

So Angel can get a good boyfriend THAT’S NOT ME to stop these bullshit allegations.

So Angel can admit his feelings to Husker because our cat surely isn’t going to be the first to do it. (ALASTOR I SWEAR TO GOD!)

Who knows how many other people he’s abusing.

Seems to give Vicks confidence. He has enough of that as is. It much more fun to destroy him.

He makes Angel sad which makes Cherri sad!

HE HIT ANGEL!!!

Called my dear Rosie an "old hag" NOBODY CALLS ROSIE AN OLD HAG.

Angel is a good friend and deserves so much better.

I’ve forgotten what moths taste like.

He keeps trying to get Angel to move out :(

Told the kid he had to lose weight. What the actual FUCK. (Ill kill him.)

He’s annoying and looks quite stupid. How has this not been added yet?!

He’s making a bad name for Spanish speakers everywhere. (Yeah it’s embarrassing.) (Wait… what?)

He’s making a bad name for pansexuals everywhere.

He’s making a bad name for wing-holders everywhere. (HE HAS FUCKING WINGS?!) (Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you?)

Too tall. This is ridiculous.

Won’t admit he’s blind so he’s become even more of a public safety hazard.

If I get one more transmission of him and Box commiting lascivious acts someone will be eaten. I don’t care who. What the purpose of these are I don’t know. Advertisement? (I think it’s to make you jealous boss.) (Ha! Jealous of what? Mediocre sex with a pathetic excuse for a businessman with a TV as a head?)

Because Angel deserves fucking better.

[l-starsz]

thought this was kind of sweet idk:)

also why did i just remember that i had a dream about holding billies hand last night and speaking to her and now i’m kinda sad it wasn’t real😔

i had no one left. everybody left when i needed them the most. i was struggling so much with my mental health and i just needed someone. i had billie, but she was just so busy on tour. luckily she was coming home today, i needed her so bad.

she said that she’d come straight to my house to see me. she knew i was struggling but she didn’t know to what extent. i told her a bit about how i was struggling but i didn’t tell her why. i didn’t want to bother her while she was busy.

i’d just been really upset because all of my friends cut me off and replaced me and while billie was gone, i realised how dependent i was on her and how she was the only person i had left. it seemed like she was the only one who cared about me. i was so grateful for her i just felt bad for having to need her all the time.

i was having a really good day just because i was really looking forward to finally seeing bil after such a long time. i was cuddled up in bed with a blanket i always stole from her when i was at her house because it smelt like her, so it ended up being our blanket. obviously wearing one of her hoodies, and my fluffy pyjama bottoms to keep me warm.

she said she found it cute when i wore her hoodies, so obviously i ended up always taking one whenever i could. before she left, i stole extra ones just so i’d have backup ones because i knew she’d be gone for a while. i kept checking the time often, knowing she’d be arriving soon. i really couldn’t wait.

i was listening to music with one of my headphones in, the other one out so that i could hear her walk in the house. obviously she had a spare key. eventually, it was getting kind of late and i was getting tired. i was laying there with my eyes slowly closing as i scrolled through apps on my phone.

just as i was about to fall asleep, i heard the front door open and then close soon after, and her voice echoed through the house as she shouted up the stairs.

“guess who’s finally backkkk!!”

i practically jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs two at a time with our blanket wrapped around my shoulders, immediately jumping into her arms and clinging onto her. she held me in her arms tightly and pulled the blanket back onto my shoulders as it began slipping off. i felt her carrying me towards the living room, relaxing on the sofa with me still in her arms.

i buried my head in the crook of her neck and settled down. i’d missed this so much. we always acted like we were dating because of how close we were. it was never weird to us and honestly people often mistook us as a couple, and we understood why. she played with my hair as she placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

“you really missed me didn’t you angel?” her voice was soft.

“i missed you so so much.” i mumbled, holding onto her tighter.

“i missed you so so much aswell.” she smiled, allowing me to cuddle her for a while longer.

“please don’t leave for so long again.” i frowned.

“i’m not going anywhere baby i promise you.”

i eventually sat up so that i was straddling her waist, just staring at her beautiful features and smiling. i zoned out and immediately started thinking about how grateful i was to have her in my life. she treated me amazingly and always made sure i was okay no matter what. she was always there for me. i genuinely appreciated her so much.

i snapped out of my thoughts when i heard her saying my name and running her hands up and down my waist. she was smiling at me and giggling.

“you zoned out huh?”

i nodded, smiling at her.

“what were you thinking about?” she always showed an interest in stuff i thought about and cared about. i really loved that.

“are you okay?” she gently asked after i didn’t answer.

i nodded but my eyes welled up, and that was when i burst into tears, covering my face with my hands and wiping away the tears as they kept falling.

“oh baby, it’s okay i’m here now.” she pulled my down by my waist so i was laying on her again.

“why are you crying sweet girl? are you upset about something?”

i shook my head and quietly spoke.

“i’m just so happy, i really appreciate you and i feel so lucky to have you, you’re the best person i’ve ever had in my life and you mean so much to me.” i sobbed out.

“i’m always gonna be here angel, i promise. i know you’ve had a rough time lately and that’s okay, i’m not going anywhere, i’m here to help baby. i know you didn’t tell me how much you struggled when i was gone and that’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it. i appreciate you so much too baby.” she rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head.

i just sobbed against her and felt so happy that she was finally back. we ended up cuddling all night after i fell asleep in her arms within only a few minutes, and she carried me back to bed. i loved her so much. i knew we both saw eachother as more than just friends.

(i don’t know if i posted this on wattpad already i might of done i’m not sure..)

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt4

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader , Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

warnings: fingering

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

A faint cry is what had awoken me from my slumber. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before making my way to Yelena’s nursery to change and nurse her before burping and rocking her back to sleep.

I’d looked at the time as I rocked her back to sleep reading ‘5:53am’. There was no point in going back to sleep if I had to wake up at 6:30, so I decided that I was gonna go to the kitchen to start breakfast for my family.

On my way to the kitchen, I stopped in the living room grabbing the small bose speaker I had charging before continuing my journey to my big, beautiful kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed out enough food to make feed a village. Eggs, Munster Cheese, Turkey Bacon, Turkey Sausages, Greek Yogurt, Granola, Strawberries, Blueberries, Pineapples and Bananas.

I hear faint but heavy footsteps coming close to the kitchen while I mixed seasoning with the eggs before cooking them. I felt arms snake around my waist and a face being nuzzled in the crook of my neck before feeling faint kisses making their way up to my jaw.

“Good Morning beautiful, Did Yelena wake you up again?” I turn around to face my boyfriend before I rake my hand through his crazy bed hair.

“Yes Logan, Yelena did wake me up.” a smirk made its way on my lips as I saw a frown make its way on his.

“I thought I told you to wake me up when she did. You’ve been working too much and you need rest.” he said sincerely. I could never get over the look in his eyes, I could get lost in those greenish blue orbs forever.

“Babe, you think you’re not tired too?” a chuckle makes it way past my lips.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m tired. All that matters is I got her. I got her and I have you, and I’m determined to never let you go again” he said as he snuggled deeper into my body. A piercing sound is what pulled me away from him, it was getting louder and louder until.

“Good Morning sleepy head. Yelena woke up so I heated up some breast milk you have in the freezer and I rocked her back to sleep, we should have about another hour and a half before she wakes up again” Lando said as he walked into our shared bedroom, his feet heavy as they padded against the bedroom floor.

A smile peaks on my face “Thank you handsome. I love you so much, you’re too good to me” I said sleepily as I welcomed Lando back into the comfort of our king size bed.

it had been 4 months since I’ve given birth to Yelena and it had been the best 4 months of my life.

I mean I really did have it all, I had an amazing boyfriend, a wonderful daughter, whom had an amazing dad, I had gotten a job at McLaren as Lando’s food prep and nutrition manager which allowed me to travel with him and keep my daughter with us.

After I’ve gotten the job, one of the first people I told besides Lando, was Logan.

That moment we shared after I’d given birth to Yelena replays in my mind almost every morning and I can’t help but yearn for us to be a happy family together.

We all can’t have what our hearts yearn for though, can we? Not after what Logan did to me, the way he made me feel, how much I wanted to die with every moment I stayed with him, how ungrateful he was whenever I did something for him, the way he hurt me day after day, how he always told me I was crazy when I brought up him not loving me and how he tried to win me back after telling him I was pregnant again before leaving.

Logan was excited to hear that McLaren had offered me the job as Lando’s Food Prep and Nutrition manager seeing as that it would allow not only me to travel with them but Yelena could too. Logan wouldn’t have to resort to seeing her every 2 months or whenever his job could let him escape for a minute.

Traveling with Yelena would be a bit of a hassle but thank god that Lando’s current nutrition manager had 3 more months before his contract was up so that allowed me to mentally prepare myself for having to travel with a baby for work.

“What’re you thinking of?” Lando mumbles against my neck as he rubs his hand up and down my side before they landed on my waist and drawing imaginary circles.

“Us. How lucky I am to have you with me even when I was pregnant and how you stayed, even during the hard nights.” tears welled up in my eyes as I recall some night we had. “How whenever she was keeping me awake with the kicking how’d you stay up with me and rub my belly until she stopped, how you’d wake up whenever I had my weird cravings, because there were so many” I let out a sniffle as the tears that once threatened to fall came pouring down.

a sniffle leaves Lando’s nose “so many” he lets out a light chuckle “and you know what Y/N/N?”

“What?”

“Even though Yelena is not biologically mine, she’s the second best thing that’s happened to me. The Miami win is first, you’re third” a chuckle elapses past my lips as I playfully swat his arm “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re number one, you always have been and you always will be. I wish to live in no world at which you are not in, I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you.”

I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you. If Lando knew about the same dream I’ve been having since that moment between me and Logan in the delivery room I don’t think he’d be saying this. I’ve made my feelings very clear to Logan that night I left our apartment and Lando knows, so why am I dreaming about him, about us being a happy family?

I want to confide in someone about these dreams but I don’t want them to go to Lando with it before I’m ready to tell him. What would Lando think if I did tell him? Would he leave me? Would there be a possible explanation on why I keep having these reoccurring dreams? Do I want to be with Logan? No. No, that one I’m very adamant on. I want nothing to do with Logan relationship wise. I mean he has been a great dad to Yelena but he’s not fit to be my boyfriend or husband, so co-parenting it is for us.

I mean I’m not complaining about that right? I’m the one that left him knowing I was pregnant, I’d be an ass if I showed up to a grand prix walking into the Williams garage being like “Surprise Logan, we have a daughter” you know, I wasn’t that stubborn enough to do that to him.

“We should go back to sleep but I have better plans” a smirk made its way on Lando’s face as he reaches for the covers to put it over our heads. His hand travels lower before they reached the waistband of my already soaked panties, his fingers moving the fabric to the side before moving them between my fold slicking them in my juices. I can feel Lando’s fingers ghosting my aching hole before a cry breaks my heavy breathing.

No, No, please go back to bed I thought “I’ve got her Y/N/N, just stay here and wait for me to come back.” Lando presses a kiss to my lips before he retreats to the nursery. The thought of my boyfriend taking on a dad role turning me on. I fully removed my panties and stuck two fingers in my aching cunt awaiting Lando’s return, before I could actually give myself some pleasure my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

A loud and frustrated sigh leaves my lips as I flip over and look at the caller ID “Logan ‘Merica Sargeant” a shaky breath escapes past my lips as I press answer

“we need to talk”

ENJOYYYYY (i have work)

Taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999

[runningfrom2am]

in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you.  "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury.  "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

[writingsfromhome]

The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

——————————————

5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You’re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.

[cherriesformatt]

baby blues || matt sturniolo part 4

matt x fem!reader

summary: you bring your baby home but nothing feels like it should you try your best to hide your feelings from matt but that never works because he knows his girl...

warnings: postpartum depression, sad, mood swings, kind of angst

word count: 1,4k

a/n: I think that might be the last part but idk let me know! Also thank you for almost 200 followers that's crazy!

The day we brought Noa home was one of the hardest days in my life. I barely could walk, I was hurting and bleeding a lot. My body was sore and didn't look like my body at all. The amount of people in our house gave me so much head ache. I was glad that everyone came and our moms are here. They cooked and bonded together even if they did not see each other before in real life. My mom did flight from Europe to be with us for two weeks so she could help.

I was so tired but I could not sleep. I was so scared something will happen to Noa. I tried my best to smile and talk to everyone so Matt would not get even more worried.

The moment I started to worry myself was that the feeling never left. Two weeks passed and I felt like I was living in someone else's body. I did not feel like myself. I was feeling so exhausted and guilty.

I would find myself having panic attacks in the middle of the night or day and hid hid in the bathroom also no-one would know.

Matt was so natural about all the baby stuff. Changing her diapers, feeding her, putting clothes on her. I was so scared that I was doing everything not to do all of this.

Today I barely even held her in my arms. I did not want to.

It was her bedtime. Matt gave her a bath while I got ready her pajamas and everything on the changing table.

"Don't forget her monitoring sock" I said watching him getting her ready to bed. She looked so small in her sleep swaddle.

"I know baby... I already did, she is all good and ready. Do you want to try to feed her today?" He looked at me with small smile.

I shook my head quickly and pointed at the bottle on the stand next to the rocking chair.

Whole pregnancy I was thinking I am going to feed her but I couldn't I only pumped so she could use a battle. I was scared she is going to choke and it is going to be my fault.

"Okay... that's okay I am going to feed her and put her down" He said as I left the room.

I checked on my phone if the camera and sock monitor were working and went down the stairs.

I started cleaning after dinner. My plate was almost full. I did not feel hungry those days. I made myself to eat so I had enough supplies for the baby.

"Hi... y/n..." Matt walked into the kitchen looking at me while I was putting last dishes away.

He looked tired and worried. Bags under his eyes bigger than usual. But he looked good. His outfit was nice, his hair was fresh and he smelled nice. I felt like a crap next to him.

"She's asleep?" I asked looking at my phone to check on the baby.

"Yes, she is all okay... Baby we need to talk" He put my phone down and connected our fingers together. The other hand rested on my cheek and he stroked it gently.

"Look at me..." He said and I did.

"What's wrong sweet girl? You hurting... I can see it but I can't help if you don't talk to me..." He said not sure how to start this conversation.

"How did you..." I wanted to ask but he interrupted me.

"Of course I know... do you think I don't see you constantly worried, you barely even sleep. I hear your crying...I just.. I didn't know what to do, how to help you. But I can't look at it anymore. Y/n you don't even hold her anymore..." He says, his eyed watered.

"She needs you the same as she needs me... fuck she needs you more. I am trying my best so you could recover. But I can't do it by myself baby... tell me what's wrong" He holds me and I do not know what to say.

I feel my body started to shake and I started to cry. I felt awful. So selfish and like the worst mother.

" Shh... I'm sorry... I shouldn't say that..." He regrets starting the conversation after I broke into pieces in front of him for the first time.

" No... you are right... Im the worst mother in the world" I said stepping away from him.

"That is not true baby" He put his hands on my hips and he looked at me with worry.

"Oh but it is... you do all of it... so smooth.... I can’t even hold her without being scared I hurt her...I can't even look her in the eyes because I hate myself Matt" I said really quiet.

" Honey..." he started and I couldn't help myself I just cried.

I felt his sarong arms around my body. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. He held me close to him on his lap and kissed my temple.

"Sh....I m so sorry you are feeling this way...I want to help you baby... but I do not know if I can...how can I help" She whispered and stroke my back rocking us.

He waited for me to calm down and when I did I looked at him.

"I'm sorry Matt.. I am so sorry for everytung... I love you both so so much but I can't... I can't do it Matt... I am so scared.... " I said.

"I am here baby... We are going to get through it together okay?" He brushed my hair from my face with his fingers.

"I think I need help..." I said first time ever thinking about it out loud.

He kissed my head again and nodded.

I started attending meetings in the same week. With small steps and with Matt by my side. I felt better and better. I started to be happy and started spending time with Noa without feeling guilty all the fucking time.

" Hi mama...." Matt said holding Noa in his brothers kitchen when I walked in.

That was a month from our conversation. Noah was 1,5 months old. She was healthy and happy. The best baby in the whole world.

"Hello everyone... How was work day with daddy? Did you scream so everyone would find out about you?" I kissed Noa's little nose and Matts lips. He laughed at what I said. The boys waved at me.

"She did not... still daddy's little secret but a hungry one" He said.

"But we needed to start filming three times because I couldn't stop staring at her" Chris said.

They both loved Noa so much but she was a soft spot for Chris. I already know he is going to spoil her so much.

"I know I know let me wash my hands first" I went to the sink, washed my hands and took her into my arms.

"Please no boobs showing out here" Nick said and I rolled my eyes.

"Not for free... I am going to Matts room and then you can show me the video?" I look at Nick.

"Yes! I am so exited" He said.

I went to feed little miss. It felt great to be able to do it and enjoy it. Thanks to that I feel like it helped me to built the connection I lost with my baby blues. This month was hard for me but I finally see the sun. She was in front of me this whole time but now I can fully enjoy and embrace being a mom. I know that after this I will be never scared to ask for help ever again.

" I missed you..." I kissed her head after she is done eating and fix my bra and shirt and walked back to the kitchen.

"We're ready!" I said walking to the boys on the couch.

Nick started to play the video when I sat next to Matt. It was mix of me being pregnant and little video of our photoshoots during pregnancy and at the end there was a black screen with little Noa crying after she was born.

We decided that it is time to share the news with the world. We do not want to show her face but we do want the world to know about her.

"Lets do it..." I said and wiped my tears of happy memories from my cheeks.

" Yes... lets do it" Matt kissed me on the lips and I smiled even more.

" I love you..."I said and she smiled as well.

"I love you both to the moon and back" He hugged me and kissed Noas head.

[sehodreams]

who in riize would you think that will be in a phone call with the reader in the middle of the night just to listen her voice talking about nothing? (maybe i have something about this and this question comes through my mind). And i really, really love "sex, money, feelings, die", it's sooooo good. Sorry english is not my first language.

I'm so happy you like sex money feelings die, I thought people would get tired of their silly conversations on the phone this last chapter but I'm glad it wasn't that bad hahahaha

Don't worry babe, english is not my first language either, we're here doing our best to learn!

This is more a how would calls with them be, I imagined them all and it was so cute 😭👌

Tw and tags: pure fluff, a little suggestive with Shotaro.

Eunseok definitely would be the kind of guy who sends you a text at 2 am to ask if you're awake, and the minute he sees you've read his message he'd call you, ''Why are you calling me at this hour?'' you'd ask, and he'd reply with a ''Why are you awake if you don't want me to call you?'', to make you laugh and then ask you about random stuff just to hear you until you or him fall asleep.

Anton is needier, he likes his daily night call, so every day at the same time you'd receive a text from him asking if he can call you, and when you say yes, he'd immediately do it, but I see him, more than talking, asking you questions to hear you ramble, and if you ask him the same question back, he'd softly laugh a bit embarrassed, ''sorry, got lost in your voice for a second, what were we talking about?''

Sungchan seems like the kind of guy who also loves his daily call, but he also seems like he would rather talk while you listen, and even if he says nothing and you either, he wants you to stay on the phone with him just to feel your company.

Sohee wouldn't call you, you'd call him, and he loves that. I see him more as the type who prefers texting, but he would never say no to you asking if you can call him, patiently listening to you and giving you answers when you need them. However, what I also see, is he falling asleep with your voice, and after a few times like that he'd be stuck to his phone waiting for your name to appear on his screen every night.

Seunghan would call you and plan little activities to not fall in silence, you can't tell me he doesn't make his girlfriend download silly games to play while you two talk for HOURS.

Wonbin doesn't seem like the kind who rambles much on the phone, but he still likes long phone calls, just listening to you breathe or even singing, leaving little comments every now and then and only hanging up when you beg him to let you go (at the end he'd take screenshots of how many hours you've been on the call to show it off to the other boys).

Shotaro likes to hear your voice but I think he prefers even more to see you, so he'd ask for short video calls if you're not busy, and a long one once a week, asking you to model for him if you bought something new or just to see you better (you can't tell me this man won't love those calls to have a... happy ending).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 12

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I'm having too much fun with this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you hear Leslie. It's an unusual homecoming as you're used to only the blare of the television and swaths of cigarette smoke. Both are missing as you peek into the living room.

“Now, Charles, you heard me,” the nurse chides.

“Yeah, I got it,” your dad says with less spite than usual, “this one.”

Dread curdles in your stomach. The call you got at lunchtime was short and Leslie assured you all was well but you couldn’t tell if she was only being polite. You could hear your father yelling in the background.

You look around the door frame and find your father sitting forward on the couch, one hand on the handle of his oxygen tank as his shoulders obscure his other. You tiptoe closer as Leslie sits in one of the wooden chairs from the dining room. You spot the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table as you come forward. 

“Well, give it a try,” she encourages and he pushes the piece into another. He grunts, a noise with some pride. “Looking good, Charles.”

You've never heard anyone talk to your dad like that. Not without being told to cut the shit. And no one ever calls your dad anything but ‘Chuck’.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounds almost bashful.

“Ah, hello,” Leslie sees you first, “come on in.”

You put your bag down and cautiously inch forward. Your dad doesn’t acknowledge you but that’s not too unusual. You stop behind the couch as he puts another piece in place.

“And how was your day?” The nurse asks in a sunny tone.

“Um… good,” you answer. You don’t usually get that question.

“You look tired. Must have been a long one,” she remarks.

“Mhmm,” you stare at the puzzle as your dad continues to piece it together. You’ve never seen him do anything but watch television or doze on the couch. And rarely without a cigarette between his lips.

“Been a good day for us, too. Me and Charles are just getting to know each other,” she grins.

Still, your dad is silent.

“Charles, come on, say hi, your daughter’s home,” she scolds.

“Hi,” he grunts. She sighs.

“You’re a funny man,” she tuts and stands up, “I got another hour,” she faces you, “why don’t we have a chat?”

“Sure,” you accept and she takes the lead, waving you into the kitchen. Your father mutters to himself as he holds a handful of pieces and picks through them. You give him one last look before you follow the nurse.

Leslie turns to you as she stops just by the counter, “no more cigarettes. We got in a row about the things but I tossed ‘em.”

“Huh?” You can’t help the shock bulging behind your eyes.

“Yep, and he ate all his vegetables,” she smirks proudly, “I know it’s hard to say no to our loved ones but I don’t wanna come back to a fresh pack tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, I…” you don’t try to excuse yourself. You don’t buy him smokes, he finds a way, but you still gave up arguing about them.

“I also have some information for you. Some stuff about diet and all that. The meals you made are lovely but there are some recommended staples for his condition that would be better,” she explains, “and an exercise plan. Light duty but he can’t be on that couch all day.”

“Thanks so much,” you say, “I really appreciate it. I… I’m so sorry it’s such a mess-”

“Are ya kidding me? I’ve walked into much worse. He’s a bit crotchety but no skin off my back,” she scoffs, “don’t worry, hon, I got it.”

You could cry. You feel the weight slowly lifting from your shoulders; still there but less. It’s not just having help, it’s having someone to guide you, someone you can speak your concerns to. Someone who can tell you you’re doing the right things.

🧹

It’s eerie entering the house knowing that you’re completely alone. The leash is no slacker without its holder near. You still feel the oppression of the empty house, curtains drawn and shadows pooling.

It won’t be for long. The carpenter will be there soon to inspect the gazebo and the landscapers are due for their scheduled work in the garden. There’s enough to keep you busy and unaware of your employer’s absence.

Still, it’s a strange feeling to walk those empty halls. You half-expected Mr. Laufeyson to appear and berate you, as if he is a wraith who does not abide time or space. He doesn’t and you press on, holing up in the library for the morning.

There’s another mystery in the folder. A riddle you can’t solve. A page taken from a notebook, with little flowers framed around the lines. It’s a list but it’s not for this place. It can’t be. As far as you know, there isn’t a fire pit around here or a lake… both are mentioned among the clustered bullet points.

You earmark it but don’t know if you’ll ever get to it. You want to ask Mr. Laufeyson but then, you’re not sure he would even know. It could be something only his wife would be privy to. You wouldn’t want to reopen old wounds.

You go down to the kitchen to eat your lunch. A plain peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat, the same thing you have every day. It isn’t much but it’s enough to keep you going. You wipe up stray crumbs and put the container back in your bag. 

The doorbell rings just as you come back to the staircase. You descend and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is your home. That you are the lady of the estate. That all these fine ornaments and the sprawling gardens belong to you. The fantasy dissolves as you reach the last step.

You go out to meet the new arrival at the gate. It must be the carpenter as the landscapers can let themselves in. You recall his name is Ronan from your brief phone call. You remember because it seemed so unique.

He’s a tall man, hunching slightly as he sees you approach between the slats of iron. You pull the gate open from within and muster a smile to welcome him. You’re at a loss as you can eke out only a mousish ‘hi’.

He says your name, tenuously, as if he isn’t sure.

“That’s me, sir,” you close the gate gently behind him. As he steps past you, his height becomes even more obvious. In his hand, he has a brown leather bag, squarish and bulky. “You’re the carpenter, Ronan?”

“Yes,” he answers as he looks around, “this is a nice place.”

“Erm, thanks,” you utter, “well, er, I suppose I should show you…”

You trail off and scurry around him. You hear him following as the contents of his bag shifts noisily with each step. You take him around the back and divert away from your usual route. You lead him into the thick brush that overgrows the path to the gazebo. You stop before the derelict structure as he comes up beside you.

“There’s a hole in the floor and one of the pillars is cracked,” you explain, pointing, “just wondering if it can be repaired.”

“Ah,” he takes a breath and lets out a thoughtful hum. 

You peek over as his pale blue eyes examine the steps and front columns. He steps forwards and sets his bag on the lowest step before climbing up. His footsteps sound hollow as he traverses the wood, walking the perimeter, stopping to check the broken post and then the boards across the floor. He squats to get a closer look as you remain where you are, rubbing your sweaty palms together.

“I’ve seen worse,” he declares as he stands, his voice booming as he rolls into the open air. He comes back to the archway and rests his hand on the top of the railing, “definitely not a lost cause. Did you have anything in mind for the restoration?”

You shake your head, “I’d have to ask my boss.”

“Your boss?” He wonders as he comes down the stairs and bends to unbuckle his bag.

“Uh, yes, I just… I’m… the house manager?” You say uncertainly. “He’s out of town so I’m seeing to the property.”

“Oh,” he takes out a measuring tape and a level. “I thought it was yours.”

You almost laugh. It's flattering that he would assume that. You just smile sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll have to do a proper inspection, check the integrity for sure, but I’ll leave you my notes. What needs to be tended to, my suggestions…” he says, “when it’s ready, where would I find you?”

“Oh, well… I’ll… I’ll be working on the patio,” you point back to the house as the idea flashes through your mind. Without Mr. Laufeyson, you can enjoy the sunlight. “I’ll be there.”

“Right, thank you miss,” he faces the gazebo and squares his shoulders. You feel as if you’re missing something.

“Um, sir,” you begin, “would you like some water?”

You think that’s right. You should be polite. It’s what Frigga would you think and she seems to know everything.

“That’s very kind of you but no thanks,” he says as he begins up the stairs again.

You twiddle your fingers as you stay there for a moment and watch him. That wasn’t as bad as you expected. It’s always difficult meeting new people. While he’s not overly friendly, he’s not rude or scary or anything like that. He’s just there to do his work, much like you.

You turn on your heel and leave him. Your excitement builds as you trace your way to the backdoor. You can’t wait to bring your things out and sit on the patio. It will be a nice breath of fresh air. Literally.

🧹

Your first day alone proves to be the calmest since you began working for Mr. Laufeyson. You can’t help but bask in the peace of his absence. Even so, you are mindful to stay within his lines. You haven’t forgotten the camera on the mantle.

You leave the house after double-checking that the security is enabled and the doors are all locked. The gate clunks loudly into place and you shake it just to be sure. You exhale and turn off down the street, eager to get home and relieve Leslie of her duties.

The bus comes on time and you find a seat, staring out at the city as it passes. You hug your bag in your lap as you recognize that moment. That rare occasion where you’re not bound up in knots. There is no Mr. Laufeyson to shadow and rebuke you. And your father is taken care of and seemingly content. 

As you get off at your stop, you take your time as the sky sets slowly above. You are met by a similar scene as the previous night. Your father is at the coffee table, bent over as he pushes pieces into each other. Leslie is singing in the kitchen as she tidies and looks up as you enter.

“Ah, hello hon,” she beams cheerily, “dinner’s in the oven for ya.”

“Um, oh, thanks, you didn’t have to…”

“More than enough,” she smiles, “long day?”

“Not too bad,” you glance back over your shoulder into the living room, “how was he?”

You turn back and she cackles, “I’m sure you know how he can be. He’s calming down a bit. We got in a right tiff over the cigarettes again but he ran out of air to bluster.”

“Oh…” you scratch your neck, “I’m sorry, I hope he’s not too much.”

“Like I said, nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she shrugs.

You nod and return to the living room. You near your father as he rubs his chin. He’s almost done the puzzle.

“Wow, you got a lot done,” you comment. 

“Eh, cause I don’t got you to distract me,” he flicks his fingers at you derisively.

You wince and back away. A sigh escapes you. You’re too tired to try. As you retreat, you can’t help but stumble in realisation. There’s something happening to you. Some sort of indifference. Apathy, maybe?

You look back at your father. You love him and you desperately want to make him happy and healthy. You want him to be proud of you. You want him to tell you that you’re good enough and yet you just don’t have the energy to keep fighting him. 

When you see how he is with Leslie, it feels as if he’s taunting you. He can be nice to her, he will listen to her, he will talk to her, but you, you’ll never earn that. Thirty years and you just aren’t worthy.

Well, he is happier and healthier than he was. It doesn’t matter that it has nothing to do with you. It only matters that he’s okay. It’s all you ever wanted for him.

You take your bag up to your room and trade it for a paperback. You come back down and sit on the porch until she’s gone. You go inside and lock up, your father still sitting vigil at the puzzle. You notice his grey hair is tidy and clean. He wears a shirt that isn’t wrinkled and he looks more lively.

You ask him if he needs anything before you go to bed. He doesn’t answer. You leave him to the puzzle and pack away the dinner Leslie left for you. You’re not very hungry. 

You put both your phones on the night table beneath the lamp. You keep the light on as you finish the chapter, or try to. You doze off, awaking only as a buzzing rattles the wooden table against the side of your bed. 

You move the book off your chest and mark the page. You reach for the phone as you sit up. It unlocks with the tap of your thumb and the alert covers the screen. ‘Movement detected’. Oh!

Mr. Laufeyson enabled the app for the lock system while he’s away. The abrupt swipe of the phone from your hands was startling but it wasn't exactly yours to begin with. The memory plucks at you as if you should have seen this coming.

You rub your eyes as you press the alert and check the time in the corner. It’s nearly two in the morning! You jolt out of bed and stagger on your feet. Oh no!

Did you leave something unlocked? Maybe it’s just a squirrel or the wind? No, it says it was the front door. Shoot! Should you call him? Would he get the alert too?

You scramble to find some clothes. You pull on a pair of greyish blue sweatpants and a hoodie. You don’t have time to worry about how you look. You have to get to the house.

You snatch up your work bag, too frantic to fish out your change purse, and barrel down the stairs. Mindless of the noise or disturbing the silence, you race out the door, slamming it and locking it shakily behind you. You run up to the curb as you dial a taxi service.

Was the gate really locked when you left? Did you put the security code in right? A thousand doubts crowd your head and churn your stomach. It doesn’t matter, all you know is you messed up again.

[kalifornia1025]

The Red Circle Pt. 1 (SPOILERS)

First part is up, let’s see what we’re dealing with!

Oof John’s already voicing his frustration over the tech issues; wonder how bad it could be

I both love and hate the sounds of John cleaning the mic, it sounds like he’s digging deep into my brain

Okay, we’re just at the end of a case?

Oh yeah, the mic is definitely bugging out

“My dear companion Doctor Watson” UGH HOW SWEET

What is happening?? WHAT IS GOING ON??

“This is going to be an 8 or 10 parter” OH REALLY John??

NONE OF THE ‘CASE’ RECORDED, that’s actually hilarious

“But was the best adventure yet” how great was it that it makes SHERLOCK say that??

Not them all reenacting the ‘case’ HAHA

Yeah John, Sherlock needs to get back to hanging upside down-WHAT

Oof Sherlock really said “you waffle so much that sometimes your random words help me solve the case” (he’s not wrong tho)

THEY DO MOVIE NIGHTS!!!

Awww Mariana’s meeting up with a friend from Hudson’s, how nice!

God, the irony of voice actors being bad at acting is incredible

Sherlock WOULD be the person asking questions during movies (and pointing out inconsistencies)

I love how you can still hear the ‘movie’ going on even when Sherlock & John are talking

This little exchange

John: “Door knock”

Sherlock: “Very observant”

John: “Is that sarcasm there?”

Sherlock: “Exceptionally observant”

John: “Well done”

Sherlock: “Thank you”

Ah!! Chipmunk voice jump scare!

Sherlock: “Is that right, John?”, John: “It’s right big guy” JOHN CALLED SHERLOCK BIG GUY

I feel John’s pain, I HATE having to explain movies to people

OH GOD NOT A REAL-HOUSEWIVES-ESQUE REALITY TV SHOW

“Good God, put the gangster film back on” SAME SHERLOCK

Awesome how Mariana and Imani are already fans of the reality show

“Why do women like that kind of stuff? It’s cruel, it’s vicious, destructive-KILL HIM, SHOOT HIM IN THE EYE”—I will never get tired of this ongoing joke with John starting a point and immediately contradicting it at the end

The ‘bullets through the bum and balls’ exchange shouldn’t be as hilarious as it is, yet here we are

Oooooh, so THIS is how we get the Red Circle case (hopefully it’ll make up for the ‘unrecorded case’)

THE MUSIC?! HELLO??

“The game is afoot” YES MARIANA WE GET TO HEAR YOU SAY IT

Oof John that mic is REALLY messed up

And that’s it for part 1! I was NOT expecting a hilarious start for this one. I can only imagine what ‘case’ we missed (lol), but Red Circle sounds interesting enough! Also, it’s cute hearing more domestic moments with the main trio. I mean they have MOVIE NIGHTS!! The fanfics were TRUE! Anyway, this is a fun start and it’s just the beginning of our 4-part adventure, so stay tuned….

[jennelikejennay]

One thing that bugs me about the way Vulcans are usually depicted (with some lovely exceptions) is that their philosophy—logic, or the teachings of Surak, for short I'm just going to call it Surakianism—is very often shown as a bad thing. Either that, or Vulcans aren't following it at all.

Writing about religion (and I do think Surakianism is best approached as a religion*) is always fraught. Because generally as a writer, you don't actually practice the faith in question, so naturally you'll have an outside view. That's doubly true of Surakianism, a way of life humans basically can't follow and it would probably be bad for us to try.

[*I know they don't call it a religion. But the way it deeply affects the interior life of Vulcans, their ethics, and so on feels very religious to me. It doesn't seem to have a position on theism; Vulcans get their beliefs about god(s) from elsewhere, such as traditional Vulcan polytheism and their own perceptions of the universe. But the way it exists as a social structure AND a guide to the inner self is absolutely religious to me.]

We are told that Vulcans developed this philosophy specifically because they needed it—they were destroying themselves without it! Their emotions were overpowering and violent, and they were clannish to the extreme. So despite what most of the human characters say, especially Bones, I think the path of logic is a good thing for Vulcans, even if humans don't get it at all.

Surak's teachings can be summed up into three basic points (a Vulcan somewhere just raised an eyebrow clear into their bangs at this oversimplification, but I'm doing my best here):

1. Logic, or the use of reason as a guide and the control of emotions

2. Nonviolence

3. IDIC—infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

Of course we only ever hear about the first one, because that's part humans notice. I'd say it was like reducing Catholics to fish Fridays and Mormons to underwear, but that's exactly what people do, so I guess it's understandable.

But I think the ordering goes the other way for Vulcans. First, acknowledge that others are of value, including and especially when they're different from you. Then, do them no harm. And finally, to achieve that goal, control your wild, violent emotions.

People imagine pre-reform Vulcans a lot of ways (and I never get tired of reading about them), but I think the best guide as to what they're like is by looking at Romulans. Romulans aren't wildly expressive with their emotions, we're certainly not talking about people who would otherwise be laughing and crying constantly. Instead, they're secretive and carry long, hateful grudges. They're loyal only to those closest to them, and they seem entirely without empathy otherwise.

Imagine the Vulcan emotions are like that. They have strong bonds to their clan, probably in part because of their telepathy. They're suspicious of outsiders, angry, prone to violence. Preferring the familiar is an instinct in humans too, but a mild one. Certainly humans have been and still are racist, but it's something we can generally overcome. I'm not sure the Vulcans could, not by relying on their emotions.

So they came up with the solution to control their emotions completely. Use reason instead as a guide to behavior, because logic will tell you that your own clan is not more important than another, and that reaching out in peace is beneficial to yourself and others. Don't give your emotions any credence and don't let them run wild.

Humans do some of this ourselves, and should arguably be doing more. We spend a huge chunk of our childhood learning to control antisocial impulses like screaming, hitting, and biting. We demonstrate self control in many tiny, unnecessary ways, in order to show to others that we are in control of ourselves: stuff like etiquette, social rules, even just leaving the last cookie on the tray for someone else. These are signals that say I am not governed by my appetites; I can be trusted to consider the needs of others.

And we could obviously be doing more. Too many political questions are being answered by people's emotional, knee-jerk responses like "I feel threatened by people who are different" or "I am angry about my enemies and want them punished" instead of "what produces the most benefit for everyone?" If we leaned more heavily on logic and reason to get us our answers, we'd make way better decisions than we do. Star Trek doesn't often acknowledge that in real life, making a snap gut decision doesn't actually have a very high success rate. Logic gives you better odds of saving the day.

But, you might say, Vulcans aren't doing very well at any of this. A heck of a lot of them that we've seen are racist. And while they repress their emotions just great, they don't actually make the most logical decisions most of the time.

But I don't think this actually discredits a religion at all. We all know Christians who are great at the easy parts of their religion—learning Bible verses or saying rosaries—but don't seem to be even trying to love their neighbor. That's in fact the way religions are usually practiced! External elements that people can easily see (like never smiling) are adhered to by social pressure, but more heart-level things are aspirational at best. That doesn't mean the message of a religion is bad; it doesn't really tell us anything.

This is especially true for a religion whose practice isn't optional. You have to follow Surak to stay on the planet. I can see this rule was necessary during the time when the Romulans were kicked out—pacifism doesn't work as a global solution unless everybody's doing it. Now, it seems a bit harsh. I think they get around it by not exiling anybody who's at least giving lip service to logic. That racist baseball guy in DS9 isn't a good Vulcan, but as long as he doesn't do anything violent or openly reject Surak, they're willing to say he counts.

Why are Vulcans so often the opposite of what their religion teaches? I think it's the other way around: their religion focuses specifically on their chief faults: clannishness, racism, ego. It just hasn't successfully transformed everyone. Makes perfect sense, really. We might as well ask why Christianity goes on and on about sex when humans are well known to be super obsessed with sex. Well that's WHY! It's one of our strongest impulses which in the past we felt the most desperate need to control.

The best argument against Surakianism is that total repression isn't the best way to handle emotion, that we need self-awareness of our emotions before we can account for them.

To which all I can say is, don't you think Vulcans know that?

I imagine there are lots and lots of viewpoints on this among Vulcans. Some favor repression and some favor understanding and acceptance; some think it's okay to have a little dry humor and some think we should be serious. We have the kolinahri who believe in the excision of all emotion (which I imagine is universally seen as extreme, like we might see cloistered nuns or monks who reject the world to achieve enlightenment). And surely there are ancient, wise Vulcans who deeply understand all their emotional impulses and are completely in control of them. Spock certainly seems this way by the movie era if not before: he knows that he has emotions, what they are, and how to respond to them. He has overcome the emotion of shame. So he seems not impassive on the outside, but a person at complete peace inside and out.

I just feel like we could stand to see more good Surakians, who are good not in spite of their belief in logic, but because of it. Kind of like how we see both good and bad followers of the Prophets on Bajor. I'm kind of anti religion myself, but I still want to see it given its due—especially a religion founded on such good principles. Sure, it's not a religion humans can really practice, nor need—a good half of our emotions are positive and pro-social, so it's no wonder a person like Bones would be convinced Vulcans are just punishing themselves unnecessarily. But it successfully turned Vulcan from a planet so violent it almost destroyed itself to a home of peace and learning. Of course Vulcans aren't going to mess with what works!

That has been my rant about logic for today. I highly recommend @dduane 's book Spock's World for a much deeper dive into logic and the path Vulcan took to get there.

[milaisreading]

can u do its our girlfriend (ryusei shidou version)?? 🙏🏽🙏🏽 w/ sub20 time? 👀

Author: Here it is! I hope u like this one and thank u for the request🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

The U-20 team felt a pretty huge shift in the dynamic when 2 certain players joined the team. One of them being Shidou Ryusei and the other one being Itoshi Sae. Now, Oliver as the captain did try and was somewhat successful with getting along with Sae, meanwhile Shidou... well he is a great player but really hard to get along with. But one thing Oliver noticed was that there was a rift and tension between Sae and Shidou, who were by all accounts always the closest to each other. The issue started a month ago when Oliver, and later on the team would notice how much bossier Sae was with Shidou, and the boy was in return a lot snappier with him. It was really getting out of hand and Oliver was ready to rip his hair out. Japan's U-20 team had an image to uphold and the last thing Oliver needed was their manager yelling at him to get them in line.

"You dumbass antena man, focus on the goal!"

"Under eyelashes senior is now the boss around here, huh?"

"Can someone shut them up?" Sendou pointed, tired from all the yelling.

"Why are they even arguing?" Teru questioned.

"God knows." Hayate shrugged his shoulders, watching as Oliver and Niou walked over to the bickering duo and pulled them away from each other.

"Alright! Enough!" The team flinched at Oliver's yell, but kept quiet.

"What's the issue you two? You have been acting like you killed each other's families!" Oliver started as Niou sighed and continued after the captain.

"We are just worried. Not only is this giving an issue to us as a team, but also to you two as a duo on the field." The long-haired boy explained as Sae and Shidou sent each other a side glare. The rest of the team kept quiet and watched the two as the huffed and looked away from each other. Oliver was pretty much speechless, he expected this from Shidou... but never from Sae of all people.

"This must be quite serious, Sae would act more mature otherwise." Teppei whispered to his friends and Miroku told them to be quiet.

"Spit it out." Oliver demanded and it seemed like Shidou finally broke.

"Under eyelashes senior here is butthurt his crush likes me more."

"I am not! All I said was that (Y/n) picking you as her boyfriend will come to bite her." Sae said back, shocking the team even more now.

'Shidou...Shidou has a girlfriend?!'

"Did I just hear correctly?" Hayate questioned with wide eyes and looked at his friends. Miroku and Teru slowly nodded their heads as Teppei and Sendou kept quiet, but were equally wondering how truthful that statement was.

'No way... he got a girlfriend before me?' Sendou thought with a huff.

'Ehh? I can't imagine Shidou with anyone.'

"What?" Niou raised an eyebrow as he closed Oliver's open mouth.

"Shidou basically got a girlfriend, way above his league if I may add." Sae repeated.

"Shut the hell up!"

"You know I am right. She literally could have had anyone, why you?" Sae said as his anger raised again, causing Shidou to smirk.

"Turns out my personality is more appear to her."

"Wait... Shidou has a girlfriend?" Oliver blurted out, causing the two to look at him.

"Yeah, they have been going out for a month." Sae rolled his eyes.

"Something you will never experience, might I add." Shidou chimed in.

"You two...are joking with us? Right?" Sendou suddenly spoke up as they raised their eyebrows.

"No?"

"You sure? Sae that was a good joke." Miroku let out a laugh as Hayate and Teppei held back their laughters too. Niou tried to calm them down while Oliver tried to stop Shidou from yelling.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" The blonde asked, taking offense at their reactions.

"It's just...you don't seem dateable..." Teppei answered, earning a nod from Hayate.

"You are too loud."

"And you say weird stuff at times."

"Sorry, but there is no way someone is dating you." The statements caused Shidou's anger to rise even more, but along with that also came the insecurities. He could handle Sae saying those things, since he is pretty jealous of his relationship, but hearing people who are pretty much strangers to him say those things... it really stung.

"I think you are capping."

"Yeah... Sae and Shidou stop joking around-"

"Wait Sendou... who is your girlfriend?" Oliver asked, trying to wrap his head around this whole concept. Shidou wanted to answer the question, he did. He wanted to show off his cute, beautiful and funny girlfriend to everyone. But one part of him wanted to keep that part quiet, private. Sae knowing about her was enough as it is, he didn't need them to know it too.

'Especially when they don't seem to believe it anyways.' Shidou said nothing as he walked off towards the locker room, sending a warning glare as Niou and Teppei tried to get the name out of him.

"Enough joking... let's just get changed. Our training session is over." Hayate said as he pointed at the clock.

"Sae, can you please tell us who the girlfriend is?" Teru wondered.

"Yeah, otherwise we will think this is a joke." Oliver added in but the redhead just shrugged his shoulders.

"Believe whatever you want. I am not saying anything out of my respect for her. When she feels like meeting you guys, you will know."

While everything was going on outside, Shidou was in the locker room enjoying how quiet it was. He somewhat cooled down from the fight and his mind kept wandering off to (Y/n).

'Ahh~ just her cute face could make any of my bad days good. She is so kind and sweet, the World really doesn't deserve her. I wonder what she is up to.' Shidou thought, growing a little agitated.

'I didn't see her at all in the past 3 weeks, stupid Blue Lock and Ego... keeping her away from me like that.' Shidou pouted. He really missed her and hoped to get the chance to see her before that match with her team.

'Seems like it's just wishful thinking.'

Teru yawned as he walked down the hallway from the bathroom. After such an eventful day he just wanted to get dressed and go home to sleep.

'Maybe a good dinner and some movies would be a good idea.'

"Excuse me, do you know if Shidou Ryusei is still here?" The boy jumped up at the sound of a unfamiliar feminine voice from behind him. Turning around, Teru was surprised to find none other than Blue Lock's manager, (L/n) (Y/n). The boy's face turned beet red and slowly nodded his head.

"Y-yeah... why do you need him?" Teru asked shyly as the girl grinned at his answer.

'She is even prettier than on TV!'

"I need to see him, can you please call him or bring me to him?" She asked and Teru quickly nodded his head, laughing nervously.

"Of course! Follow me, sorry if I am jumpy a little."

'She will think I am weird now...' Teru thought nervously, internally facepalming at his own behavior.

"It's fine, my team is the same right now. Probably excited for the match coming up?" (Y/n) asked in a reassuring manner as Teru slowly nodded his head.

"Y-yeah..."

'Her voice is so soft...'

"Shidou!" The group turned to look at Teru as he ran into the changing room.

"What?" The blonde asked in annoyance, still mad at the way they spoke to him earlier. Teru took a few deep breaths as he tried to calm the redness on his face down.

"The...the manager fo Blhe Lock wants to see you..." Teru panted out. The blonde's frown turned into a grin as he quickly packed his things.

"What?! (Y/n) is outside?" Teppei and Miroku asked with wide eyes as Oliver grinned at the news. Niou and Hayate kept quiet along with Sae. The older Itoshi became restless at the mention of (Y/n)'s name while the other 2 grew a lot more nervous.

"Later, losers." Shidou chuckled and ran out with his bag.

"Hold it- Why is she even here?" Niou wondered as Teru spoke up again.

"It turns out the girlfriend Sae and Shidou talked about was (Y/n)."

The room grew quiet as Sae quietly left the room, hoping to catch up to the duo before they left.

'Shidou...'

'Is dating...'

'(Y/n)...' Sendou, Hayate and Miroku thought as Oliver's eye twitched.

"What do you mean?! No way did that guy get to her first!" Oliver yelled as Niou nodded his head.

"She was probably blackmailed into dating him."

"True. (Y/n) seems so sweet and kind..." Teppei started.

"And beautiful, she puts all the idols I know to shame." Sendou sighed dreamily.

"I also heard she is so considerate. I heard she always makes snacks for her team." Hayate chimed in.

"Forget that! Did you see the way she holds herself when talking to the reporters?!" Oliver added in with a blush.

"Yeah...she has to be blackmailed." Miroku concluded as silence fell among the group.

They looked between each other and at the door as Niou cleared his throat.

"I need to go to the toilet."

"Hold it! Why did you take your bag-" Before Hayate could finish his sentence, Niou was already outside the locker room.

"Hey!" Oliver yelled, running after his teammate and the rest joining in.

"I hope you like it! It's like a good luck charm for the upcoming matches!" (Y/n) grinned as Shidou held the necklace she bought him a few days back. It was a simple, 4 leaf clover pendant on a gold chain, but it did make Shidou's heart race a little and his face turned red from the attention.

"Thanks, th-this means a lot. I didn't get anything for you." Shidou said, getting a little shy from the sudden gift and (Y/n) shook her head.

"I am happy and fulfilled as long as you are, Ryu."

'So adorable! And all mine!'Shidou thought as his cheeks started heating up and he coughed.

"Want to eat something? There is a good restaurant-"

"Are we eating somewhere?" Shidou felt like all the rage he previously felt came rushing back as Sae appeared put of nowhere, putting his arms around (Y/n)'s shoulders.

"Sae-san?! Where did you come from?" The girl wondered, a little startled by his appearance. Shidou watched with a snarl as Sae turned his stone cold look to a much softer one as he glanced at (Y/n).

"Good to see you, (Y/n). You look just as pretty as the last time I saw you." The girl blushed a little at the comment as Shidou pulled her our of his grip and glared even harder at Sae.

"We, as in (Y/n) and I will go and eat now. You can go somewhere else." Shidou said as he started pushing (Y/n) in front of himself.

"Ryu, you don't have to push me.... but I feel a little bad..." (Y/n) admitted in embarrassment as the two stopped and looked back at Sae. Shidou raised his eyebrow, wondering what she actually meant.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Sae is your friend, maybe we could invite him along. He probably wants to eat with us too." (Y/n) smiled softly as Shidou felt his heart crack a little.

'She is so considerate! That Itoshi doesn't deserve this level of kindness! My cute, little girl.' Shidou thought as he poked her cheeks.

"Ryu~" She pouted as the boy chuckled.

"You are so adorable... Fine, we could invite Sae along." Shidou sighed, as he really couldn't say 'no' to (Y/n).

"Ahh~ Shidou? Is that your lovely girlfriend?" The blonde boy flinched as he heard Niou's voice and the two turned to look at the group. The blonde tightly grabbed onto (Y/n)'s hand as they observed the group. Shidou watched in horror and anger as he noted all their expressions as (Y/n) waved at them.

"Hello!" She exclaimed.

Niou, Hayate and Miroku had the most normal expression, just a small blush on their cheeks. Teppei hid behind a blushing Miroku as he sent (Y/n) a few glances here and there.

'So cute~ she is even more adorable in real life.' Teru, Oliver and Sendou where meanwhile blushing messes as they stared at (Y/n) and waved at her.

"It's so lovely to see you, (Y/n)-san. We weren't aware you and Shidou were dating." Niou spoke up as he walked closer to them.

"Yeah! Congratulations." Miroku added in as Teppei followed them.

"Can I get a picture with you?"

"Me?!" (Y/n) asked the boy in confusion as Sendou and Oliver chirped in.

"Yes, it would be lovely."

"You look even lovelier than a kpop or jpop idol."

"A-ah... Thank you, Sendou-san." The girl blushed a little as Teru and Hayate chimed in.

"Move a little, Shidou- Can I get a picture with you too?"

"Can you please be our manager? The old man is annoying." Hayate groaned, earning a hit on the head from Oliver.

Shidou watched in disbelief as his teammates tried to chat up his girlfriend, his jealousy close to reach its limit.

"Told you that (Y/n) is a real eye catcher." Sae snorted, equally annoyed at the scene.

"Shut it! I know...it's my (Y/n)... my girl we are talking about."