#The one exception being Journey which pairs you up with a random person with almost no ways to communicate

[fillybuildsahouse]

Once Human is a great game but I think the experience would be a million times better if there was a single-player option

[quaranmine]

The Incandescence of a Dying Light (Chapter Twelve; Final)

The after, and the end.

Chapter twelve: 7,050 words.

<< Chapter Eleven | Masterpost

Hi, thank you all so much for reading. I hope you like this chapter. I already know some of you will :)

No CW for this chapter. Trust me that I can’t do worse to you than the last chapter. This one will, of course, continue to reference events of the last chapter though so be prepared for more discussion of grief and death.

September 1989

It’s late afternoon when Grian walks down the trail, boots crunching softly on the leaves and gravel. His boots are rubbing his feet, despite the many miles he has walked this summer to break them in. He’s still wearing the old pair, battered and trashed as they are. It’ll be their last journey. It only feels right in the way it feels wrong. It’s like he’s slipping back into a part he played once that doesn’t quite fit anymore. 

Still, the walking is meditative in its own way. One foot in front of the other, back and forth, every time. 

He zones out so thoroughly that he’s almost, but not quite, surprised to realize he is already at his destination. He knows he’s at the end of the line because the last pitch is steep and rocky, with nothing but sky above him. There’s nowhere left to go but up, and reaching for the sky is what all fire lookouts do best. 

Perhaps he expected this trail to be longer because the trail to Two Forks was. It took a full day of walking if he started incredibly early, and two days if he didn’t. He always seemed to fail to start early, except for that time with the firework idiots. This isn’t the trail to Two Forks, though. 

Grian scrambles up the last portion of the trail, and sets his eyes on the prize at the end: the Thorofare lookout.

It’s not perched on a tower the way many classic lookouts are, rather it takes on a different blueprint that is common to many fire lookouts in the western US. It sits alone on top of a foundation of a heaping pile of granite rock. It doesn’t need a spiraling staircase to give it height above the trees; it’s already the highest point in the surrounding mountains.

For a random, silly moment, Grian wants to duck himself behind one of the rocks and hide. He wants to play spy for just a little while, and go back to being that unobtrusive observer in the forest that he was paid to be only weeks ago. 

The lookout is fairly well kept. The siding has been painted recently, but the shingles are a little messed up, likely from the hail they’d received earlier in the summer. Grian smiles to himself, just slightly. That’s probably not something Scar can fix for himself, and it’s probably driving him crazy. He clearly cares a lot about keeping the building and its surroundings looking nice.

He should just…go to the door and knock, like a normal person. 

He doesn’t. He just hangs back.

He’s not entirely sure why. Scar seems, by every encounter he’s ever had with him, an objectively friendly person. Perhaps even too friendly—a person who was willing to put up with Grian’s relentless, doomed quest and offer total support. And maybe that’s why he’s scared: because it’s always easier to reveal your whole soul anonymously, but putting a face to it is final. 

He has to do this, though.

He rolls his shoulders, adjusting the weight of the pack—a new one—and anticipates dropping it at the door. Then, he steps out from behind the rock, walks to the door, and knocks on it. 

There is an immediate yelp of shock from inside the cabin followed by the sound of something clearly being dropped, which Grian can’t help but snicker at. 

“I’m uh, I’m—coming!” Scar says, with a hint of sing-song on the final word. Grian is struck by how clear his voice sounds, without the interference of many miles between them. Of course it would be, but still. He sounds just slightly different. 

A second later the door is flung open, and Scar is there, right in front of him, leaning a little on the door frame. Standing there, right in front of him. 

He’s taller than Grian, which he knew to expect but is still mildly annoyed by. He somehow looks nothing like, and exactly like, what Grian expected him to. His hair is light brown, and needs a good combing. It’s a little long in the back, since it’s probably been weeks or months since Scar got it trimmed. His eyes are green, and they contain just a touch of cockiness. He’s smiling at Grian, all bright teeth and good cheer, and the facial expression tugs slightly at a scar under his eye. That had been caused in the accident, if Grian recalls correctly. 

“Well, hello there,” Scar says. “You startled me a little back there! We don’t get very many visitors to this fine establishment, but welcome! I’m the one who staffs this here Thorofare Lookout, so what can I help ya with?”

And Grian, embarrassingly, just stares at him. 

The moment extends for an amount of time that is just edging into uncomfortableness. Grian can see it in the way Scar’s smile freezes a little on his face, like he’s gone from being genuinely friendly to just holding the expression in place for some weirdo tourist who has decided to come bother him out in the middle of nowhere. 

Grian shakes his head, lifting himself out of the moment and back into reality. “Sorry,” he mutters quietly. “Sorry about that, I’m just—” He stops. Then, he extends his hand. “Hi Scar, I’m Grian.”

It’s Scar’s turn to stare now. The smile on his face melts away in shock, and his gaze flickers across Grian, giving him a once over. It makes Grian want to shrink back some in shyness.

Then he accepts Grian’s extended hand, and in one fluid motion uses it to yank him into a hug instead. It’s soft and warm. 

Grian somehow didn't expect that, although he's probably received more hugs in the past two months than in the last two years, so this one shouldn't be that much of a surprise. It feels more important though, like it's communicating something left unsaid between them all summer. 

"You had me so worried," Scar says to the top of Grian's head. 

They pull away. Grian smiles sadly. "Sorry about that." 

"What are you doing here?" Scar says.

“Ouch. Not even a hello?”

“Hi Grian,” Scar says, and immediately tacks on: “So what are you doing here? Not that—not that I don't appreciate it of course! You know, I just didn't expect—"

"I thought I'd come for a visit," he says. Then he adds, amused, "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!"

Grian steps into the lookout, and it's organized chaos. He gets the distinct sense that Scar has too many belongings for such a small space, and that he has at the same time put great effort into decorating and turning it into a little home. The interior layout mostly matches his tower, with a few differences like the bed being in a different corner. There’s a notebook on the floor, which Scar quickly snatches and replaces it on the desk. That must have been what he dropped earlier when Grian knocked. 

“Guess you weren’t expecting visitors?” he says. 

Scar laughs. “No! You scared me!”

“Yeah, I was never expecting any hikers either,” Grian says. “I got visitors…just a few times? I think? And the one time I didn’t even see them coming, they just made it all the way up to the catwalk and knocked on the window.” 

“Oh, that’s not even a bad one,” Scar says. “Once I had a hiker come in really late at night. So I just woke up to seeing a person literally trying to open the door in the dark. I thought I was gonna get robbed, or murdered, or—”

“Now I know how I should scare you next time,” Grian says, and Scar swats his arm. 

“I think a lot of people don’t realize it’s inhabited,” Scar says. “Like, they think the cabin is empty so they get all the way up here and don’t realize someone’s there? I ended up letting that person crash on the floor in their sleeping bag. After I finished having a heart attack!”

“There aren’t many left that are still used, are there?” Grian asks.  

Scar looks away a bit, eyes flitting over to the window by the desk where the mountains lay beyond, the ones he’s known for years. “Less each year,” he says. “I always wonder if each year’s my last one. Two Forks went inactive for several seasons. It’s just this year, after all those Yellowstone fires, that they hired more people. Like you!”

“But that funding won’t last.”

Scar shrugs. “They’ll forget about it again once the public forgets about it. Or once a new administration wants to do some cost-cutting and wonders why they’re paying so many people to go do nothing all day.”

Grian makes a noise of agreement. It goes without saying, of course, that the job isn’t only nothing. It’s a lot of nothing right up until sometimes it’s suddenly a lot of something. After that it’s hours of overtime, maps, math, weather, radio chatter, and monitoring fire. 

It only took the briefest introduction to the job for Grian to realize it was like stepping into another world, and not one that would last for much longer. Manned lookouts would continue to have some advantages, of course. He and Scar could be a 24/7 relay to firefighters if needed. The job may not ever fully go away. But the more that things like satellites could be relied on, the less people they’d need to cover these vast networks of forest. 

The wind whistles outside of the windows as they stand there. The sun’s angle throws little warm squares of light through the windows, checkering the floor of the cabin. It’s later in the year now, and the days are getting shorter. It’s still warm out during the day, but the lows at night are starting to get below freezing again. Scar won’t be asked to come back after October 1st, unless a really large fire breaks out again. There’s limited days left in this cabin. 

The strangest part of it all is that they’re standing here together. He keeps throwing stray glances at Scar, hoping he won’t notice, as if he’s trying to verify that he’s really standing there. 

Grian changes the subject slightly. “Do you have room for me to sleep tonight? Or is that offer only open to potential thieves in the night?”

Scar pretends to deliberate on this for a second. “Nah, I’m gonna make you sleep in a tent. On the rocks. In the wind! And the cold!”

“Rude,” Grian says. “Is this how you always treat your fri—guests?” 

He backs out of the word at the last minute. It’s silly. Part of him wonders, though, if he messed up his chance with Scar. If he was too hurtful, or weird, or difficult to deal with. If it was easier to talk with him long-distance and not worth it face-to-face. 

It doesn’t escape Scar’s notice. “Well,” he says, drawing the word out. “I guess I could make an exception for making sure a friend doesn’t freeze to death.”

“How could I ever expect to live up to that kind of hospitality,” he deadpans in return, matching Scar’s sarcasm even as tension trickles out of his shoulders.

They were both joking, of course, but Grian had packed his bag with everything he needed in case he got rejected. He’d been willing to sleep outside. Jimmy told him that was stupid, because there was no way Scar wouldn’t let him stay with him. Grian told him that may be true, but he was never going to set out on a hiking trail again without all his gear regardless. Jimmy got quiet after that and agreed. 

“Maybe I’ll just make you do some chores,” Scar says. “Hey, I have an extra pair of binoculars—”

And like that, the ice is broken. 

»»———-　　———-««

Hours later, it’s dark out. 

They spend a pleasant afternoon and evening together, talking mostly about nothing at all. Intentionally talking about nothing at all, really. Grian guides them away each time the conversation turns, and Scar lets him like he doesn’t even notice. 

Scar is an even better storyteller in person—for the first time, Grian’s able to see how he stops what he’s doing to pour every ounce of attention into his words. Scar fills him in on everything that’s happened since July. 

“You know it’s a lot more boring without you, you know,” Scar says.  “The replacement lookout didn’t dramatically steal anything? Jump out any windows?” “Not a single one, G-man!” he cries. “I mean really, how’s a man supposed to find any other entertainment out here? Nice lady, though. But she didn’t want to talk to me, she just told me she wanted to do her job. I think our supervisor might have warned her off me.” “You’re a bad influence,” Grian says. “I don’t blame her.” “I’ll have you know, I was rated Most Wholesome in high school.” “That did not happen. I don’t even think that’s even a real thing.”

He receives a mini tour of the lookout. It’s not a long tour because there isn’t much to see, but Grian pays rapt attention anyway. Scar tells him about his efforts to paint the siding earlier in the summer, and specifically the way someone had come specially to deliver him those supplies twice because it was the wrong product the first time. 

He points out landmarks through the windows, and Grian gets to see some of the same mountains he spent so long watching from a new vantage point. He looks at the sunny south faces of all the mountains that were north of Two Forks tower. 

There’s another new feature in the cabin that Scar has added, in the form of a high shelf above the windows and close to the ceiling. 

“I built that so I could dry paintings without Jellie stepping all over them when they were wet,” Scar tells him after he catches Grian eyeing it.  “How’d that work out for you?” he asks.  “It’s the only place she wants to sleep now!” Scar groans.  "Cats like high places, you know. Wait, is she around here? I haven’t seen her at all! I'd like to meet her." "I knew you'd be more excited to see my cat than me," Scar mutters. “She’s probably hiding under the bed.” Grian kneels on the floor and peers under the bed. Deep in the shadows in the corner, a pair of bright eyes look back at him, regarding him with suspicion. Her eyes are the same color as Scar's. He watches her for a moment, but she does not make any effort to come closer. He silently vows that he will manage to pet her before he leaves.

Scar also gives him a short demonstration of some of the paintings he’s made this year. He has a sketchbook full of little things—the trees further down the hill, an undulating column of smoke with all its curves, and a delightful series of cat sketches. There are some pages where Scar skips past quickly and refuses to show Grian. When he catches a glimpse of one, the drawings look just as good as the others, so Grian remains unsure what exactly was wrong with them. 

Just as impressive are his oils and watercolors. He’s made a bunch this summer—Scar claims it’s actually bad because he’s done less than usual, which Grian can’t really comprehend—and most of them are small studies. 

“I want to capture more movement and texture and color and life,” Scar tells him. “The smaller pieces of paper make it so that I can’t get too hung up on details!” Grian nods along.  “The Impressionists did that, you know,” Scar starts, and Grian gratefully settles back in to listen to another tangent while he thumbs through little brightly painted cards, each one more impressive than the last. 

Now it’s getting late, and they’re sitting out on the catwalk together, backs against the cabin. There’s a very cold bite to the air, but the stars are pretty regardless. No clouds at all tonight, in fact, and a waning moon shining gently. The lights in the lookout are turned off, and as his eyes adjust he can start to see the outlines of the distant mountains. 

Grian has two cans of beer he picked up at a gas station somewhere along the way, and gives one to Scar.  It’s not a brand he recognizes, so maybe it’s from some local or state-specific brewery. Scar brings a blanket out on the deck for each of them. The cold air seeps up between the cracks in the boards they’re sitting on, but he’s cozy nonetheless. 

“I wish you could’ve been down here back when the meteor shower was going,” Scar says. 

“Meteor shower?” he asks. 

“Yeah. It’s, uh, I don’t know. Every year at the end of summer. It’s nice to be out here ‘cause you can see so many stars at night.”

“I bet that was nice,” Grian says. “I wish I was there.”

They lapse into silence for a few minutes, just sipping on the drinks. The stars twinkle far above him, the furthest so faint that he can hardly tell if he’s really seeing them or not. He absently wishes he learned more constellations, since he can’t recognize any right now. He’s going to miss being able to see so many stars. 

When he turns to face Scar again, his expression is stormy. Grian goes still. Scar fiddles with the edge of his blanket and doesn’t meet his eye. He can’t tell if he looks angry, or just upset, but either combination of those makes his stomach turn. Grian waits though. They’ve waited long enough today. 

"After all…of that," Scar starts finally, neatly sidestepping any discussion of what all of that actually was, "I didn't hear from you again. At all."

Grian lets that settle in for a moment. "I know," he responds finally. "I’m sorry. That's why I came here."

"I mean," Scar continues, voice growing stronger, "I knew you weren't dead because it was all over the radio traffic. I was monitoring the communications with the hotshot crew. I hear about—” he gestures with his hand “—all that, with the fire and helicopter. And our supervisor took pity on me and told me some of the details afterward.”

“And it was on the news.” 

Grian knows the story was run on a few American and British outlets. He avoided the TV, and the paper, for a while afterward, but it doesn’t take the press long to get bored. Mumbo’s death was barely a blip in the news cycle. It was a dramatic story, but not that dramatic. It doesn’t matter if it will haunt Grian for the rest of his life; the average person wouldn’t remember reading about it after a week. “Missing British Expat Found Dead in American Wilderness One Year Later.” He grimaces even at the mere thought of it. 

“That too. Not that I get much of that up here.” His voice is clipped. Hurt. With good reason, really, but—

Truthfully, Grian didn’t quite think to contact Scar until later. Everything after he was evacuated from the forest was a blur of activity that made his head spin, and he wasn’t in the best of shape at the time. The helicopter had taken him directly to the hospital in town, and they’d kept him for three days. They evaluated his ankle, which was only a grade 1 sprain that had been aggravated by his constant movement. They treated him for severe dehydration. They evaluated his lungs and airways. Mostly, though, they focused on his burns. 

Grian was lucky, all things considered, regardless of if he felt that way or not. He lived when he could have very easily died. He’d been in a rocky area that burned fast and had little tinder, with the boulder next to him to act as a heat sink. He’d been stuck in a finger of the fire near the edge, so it had burned over quickly. He hadn't ever caught on fire himself. He’d kept his nose and mouth protected and close to the ground. His clothing had protected most of his body, but wearing a t-shirt meant his arms had been bare and he’d used his hands to cover his head. They fared the worst. 

Grian thought the hand was perhaps the most annoying place to receive a burn, with the painful way he struggled to do anything, especially writing, for a few weeks. But it hadn’t been very severe. It could have been worse. He got to go home, and monitor his recovery from there. 

He answered a million questions over the days following the incident. He spoke to rangers, search and rescue, fire crew members, and the police. He was scolded for stealing documents, but the words held little bite or legal weight. They had other copies available, after all. They asked him to pay a small fine. The rangers’ eyes looked sympathetic. Perhaps they felt he suffered enough, or perhaps it was the fact that this confrontation took place in the hospital room. 

He called Mumbo’s parents again the morning after he woke up again. 

And then when he sat in the hospital on the second night, waiting for Mumbo’s parents and his own mum to arrive, he pulled out his radio again and charged it. Once it came back on though, he realized it couldn’t do anything for him anymore. It was still set to the frequency he and Scar always spoke on, but now there were new voices speaking on it. 

Of course they didn’t own the frequency, it was just a national talk frequency. They’d always just carved privacy out of the sheer remoteness surrounding them. Now, he was simply too far out of that limited range and was picking up more nearby conversations instead. 

“I’m sorry,” Grian says. “I didn’t have a radio to reach you with. It was out of range as soon as I left the forest.”

“I have a phone.”

“I didn’t know the number,” he says after a moment. They’d only ever spoken over the radio when he was a lookout. Then, he tacks on jokingly: “I also don’t really think the agency wants to foot the bill for international calls.”

Scar scrunches his eyes shut for just a moment. “It hurt a lot,” he says. “That day—when I think of it, it’s so….I  just—I was just worried about you. I was…”

“Scared?” Grian offers. 

Scar nods, and Grian feels something horrible wash over him, a guilt that makes him want to walk straight off the catwalk into the dark. He tries to place himself there for a moment, on that evening, but this time from the inside of this lookout. Scar could see the fire from his tower. He’d been desperately trying to save him with no way to interfere on his own. Helpless. He listened to Grian say things. Worrying things. He saw the fire’s movement, where it spread, and how fast it spread. 

When Grian’s radio died, he must have felt like he was watching him die.

“It’s okay,” he says, speaking all in a rush. “It’s okay, I—I’m fine. See? I got out of there, and now I’m here. I’m sorry, I came to say I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

Scar tilts his head skeptically. “Are you? Because…”

Suddenly, Grian’s eyes well up with tears. The mere question is enough to crack his veneer of coping. He casts his eyes away and blinks fast, trying to keep them at bay. Scar has heard him cry, but never seen him cry, which is somehow more embarrassing.

“No,” he says. “I don’t think I really am.”

Scar doesn’t ask him any questions, he just puts his arm around him. The warm weight of it grounds him like a comfort. For every time Grian was convinced he could do it all by himself, there was another time that he just wanted it to be like this: a person who cares. He ducks his head down, and lets the tears drip across his cheeks and into his lap. He isn’t sobbing; it’s a quiet cry. 

Eventually, he simply whispers, “I’m just so tired.”

“I get that,” Scar agrees. 

“Everything’s just…too much,” he says. “I’m—”

One step from losing it all?

One missed breath from drowning?

“It just feels like the beginning again,” he finishes instead. 

“The beginning?” Scar inquires. 

“Like I haven’t figured it out. But last time I had hope, I guess. I thought it could be fixed. It hurt but I thought it could still work out in the end. I need it to work out and be okay. And now it can’t. It’s not ever going to be okay. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

There are lows Grian has felt in the last few weeks that he doesn’t want to share with anyone. That’s part of the problem, though. His life is everyone’s concern now and he’s being treated like glass by all his friends. They mean well, of course. They may even be wise for it. But people know what happened. They just can’t know how it felt. 

He tries to remember they’re upset too. They’re also grieving. But they’re not the ones who have to leave the kitchen in a panic for a bit of fresh air whenever something burns in the oven. 

He wants nothing more than to be left alone. He knows what it’s like to be alone after this year, and it’s familiar. And yet, he also wants nothing more than this—to be hugged, and comforted, by someone else who can do a little reasoning for him. 

It’s hard to feel like anything matters right now. He dedicated all his time to finding Mumbo. He shaped his ideas, his time, and his relationships with people around the belief that Mumbo was alive—and was wrong. So what’s the point? Where’s he supposed to go now? What’s he supposed to do? 

He doesn’t know. 

Scar hugs him a little closer. “It’s not okay. It won’t be. But maybe eventually you’ll start filling in things around it.”

“Like you did?” Grian says, a little sharper than intended. “Isolating yourself for years in the middle of nowhere? That didn’t work for me, in case you didn’t notice.”

“No,” he responds slowly, “like I did by being reminded of the good memories, picking up art, getting a cat, trying new jobs, looking at pretty sunsets, and meeting new friends. See! Small steps first.” He lets go of Grian, and pats his shoulder. “You can do it.”

“I don’t want to do that,” Grian says.

“I kind of think you do.”

“I don’t though,” he says sourly, “because I—I already do, and I hate it. Sometimes I feel relieved. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be relieved. My friend is dead.”

“Why’re you relieved?” Scar asks. 

“Because—because it’s just. Over, maybe. Because I finally know the answers. Because it’s horrible but at least I don’t have to wonder anymore.”

The what-ifs used to plague him constantly. They were an ever-changing carousel of worst case scenarios that danced around his head. Now, something different plagues him. But the truth doesn’t change. It just is. 

 “Hm.” Scar pauses for a second. “Well, you figured out what happened. You found him. You can put it to rest now. It’s okay to do that.”

“But—”

Scar interrupts. “You’re not forgetting him, you know? That’s not what it means to move on. There’s a lot of people out there who don’t have anyone to believe in them. Mumbo had you. And you did good.”

And Grian doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t. He just sits there and lets the thought swirl around and around his head. Scar lets him. The two don’t speak. 

He did good. Did he? 

It doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel good to be hell-bent on saving your best friend only to find his body. It doesn’t feel good to fail so thoroughly from the goal you set. It doesn’t feel good to be the only one left in something that was special. He has so many memories with Mumbo. Now he’s their sole keeper, the only one left to carry that knowledge. 

But he did succeed, in a way. Mumbo might have been lost forever out there. Some people never do get found. He brought Mumbo home, back to his family, and back to a place with respect. Where he could be buried. 

He breaks it down in his mind, over and over, like maybe he can polish away all the sharp edges like a rock in the river. Maybe it’s okay to let the sharp edges go away. The heavy weight of it remains. Maybe it doesn’t have to cut his hands every time, though.

Eventually he takes a deep breath and sits back up. 

“Sorry about all that,” he mutters, as he hastily wipes the tears from his eyes. 

“No,” Scar says.

“No?”

“Don’t say that, don’t apologize for crying. It’s okay!” Scar says. “If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t help you more back then, or—”

“No,” Grian says this time. 

“Oh,” Scar says. “No?”

“No,” he repeats. 

“Okay.”

“So that’s out of the way, then,” Grian says, breaking into a watery half smile. “No more apologies.”

“I guess so,” Scar says. 

Grian sighs. “I just don’t know what to do now. What do I do next? You…you managed to do it.” 

Finding Mumbo was a year-long priority. Without it, he can’t seem to figure out the structure of his life. He never thought this far ahead. He only thought about what it would be like when it was all okay—not about what he planned to do when it wasn’t okay. Now he’s falling through his own cracks. 

“That’s an easy one,” Scar says. “You’ve got a lot of houses to draw!”

“We call it drafting.”

“Drafting then,” Scar nods. “Go forth and draft some buildings.”

Grian tips his head back, looking at the stars. “I don’t know if I want to do that anymore.”

“Oh! You don’t have to,” Scar says. “I know you liked the job, but you don’t have to go back to it. You can do something else too. You can do whatever. Or even nothing.”

“I don’t want to do anything else, that’s the problem,” Grian says. “I just—ugh.”

He still likes architecture. He literally can’t turn it off in his brain, the way his eyes catch on the details of buildings when he travels past them, equal in praise and criticism for it. He doesn’t know if he has a place in that career anymore, though. Maybe he can’t do it anymore. Maybe he doesn’t remember how. 

“You have time to figure it out. You even have the rest of your life to keep trying things out!” Scar says. “Why do you think I’m always seeing new places and doing these seasonal jobs? And if you want to go back to it you can. It doesn’t have to be now though. It can be whenever.”

For the first time in a long time, Grian feels a little spark of something about his future. It’s a little flame and it will need to be nurtured. He cups it close in his mind, trying to peer through its light. There’s no plan, just a glimmer of something that doesn’t sound too bad. 

Every time he thinks about what to do next, he’s locked in decision paralysis. Mostly, he just wants to sleep and not have to deal with it. He has already tried that method, and while it doesn’t work well, it does eliminate the thoughts temporarily. The nothingness is comforting, even though he never feels better afterward. He wants this to all go away, but day after day since Mumbo first went missing that has been proven impossible. 

But sometimes one of his friends comes along to drag him out of his room and onto the streets of London, and more times than not he finds himself enjoying it. He finds himself, even for just a moment, living in that reality instead. Is it so bad, to want that a little?

Like it always does, the guilt comes stalking back in behind the thought. He lived, Mumbo did not. Mumbo deserved to live. Grian did nothing spectacular, nothing out of the ordinary, to deserve to have this life that was robbed from his friend. It eats at him, cutting holes in the very fabric of his being. He lets the thought settle in the corner of his mind, like he always does, but he doesn’t dismiss the hope either. Not this time. He holds them both at once. 

Then, his thoughts are interrupted by gentle, tentative paw steps on the edge of the blanket.

“Oh my goodness,” Scar says. “Jellie finally decided to come say hi!”

Grian watches her carefully from the corner of his eye, and dares not move an inch. Scar had left the door cracked when they came out here on the catwalk, so Jellie must have decided to explore a little. And now she’s slowly crawling over toward him. She’s a classic gray tabby cat with a white chest, paws, and blaze. She sniffs Grian’s hand with great contemplation, before carefully stepping over his arm and sitting on his lap. 

“Oh!” he exclaims softly. 

Scar silently fist-bumps the air. “Yes!” he says. “She likes you! I knew she would!”

“Can I pet her?”

“Of course,” Scar says. “That’s why she’s on your lap! Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out if she doesn’t want to be pet anymore.”

“By biting me, I’m sure.”

“Uh,” he says, “no comment.”

Grian gently strokes the striped fur along her back. It’s soft and short. It’s been a while since he owned his own cat, but he likes them. He wanted to get one, but their apartment in Denver hadn’t allowed animals, so the last cat he had was one back in England that passed away while he was in university. Maybe he’ll get a new cat when he goes back. Jellie is a dignified cat, the type of animal who looks at you and possesses an uncanny type of intelligence in their eyes. He honestly feels honored that she decided she liked him enough to sleep on his lap. 

After a moment, she starts to purr. 

Scar is watching the two of them with a funny look on his face. Or rather, after a moment, Grian realizes that Scar is actually watching his hands. 

“You got burned,” he says, like he’s only just now noticing it. 

His hands still. The second-degree burns had already healed in the weeks since the fire, but the skin on the back of his hand was still pink and patchy-looking. Healed, but only just, with the potential of any long-term scarring still up in the air. Jellie senses that he’s stopped petting her, and moves her head to push his hand until he resumes the motion. He does. Demanding cat. 

“Yeah,” Grian responds simply.  

Scar puts his head in his hands. “I should have directed you better—if I knew better, or—then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt—”

“Hey, no,” Grian says. “That was…that was all me, Scar. I got into that situation myself. I was…I probably would have stayed put if it weren’t for you, honestly. You saved me.”

Scar looks up again. “Really?” he asks. 

“I wouldn’t have got out of there,” he says softly. “And, really, I would have never found Mumbo if it weren’t for your help. Thank you for that. I know I…got mad at you, that day, but really. I, uh, do mean it. Thank you.”

“Oh,” Scar says. “That was—something I couldn’t imagine not doing.” He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Grian for once can see this in the expression on his face, rather than the silence through the radio. He waits. Finally Scar asks: “Did they—did they ever find out what happened?”

That’s the big question, isn’t it? That’s been the big question this whole time. And for all the effort that Grian went to in order to find Mumbo, it wasn’t one he could fully answer on his own. That was for the rangers and the medical examiner. 

He begins, “They found him, based on your map skills I’m sure. Um, recovered his body. Made a real identification. Not that I—not that I was going to be wrong. I just knew. They used dental records I think.”

He keeps petting Jellie. 

“They don’t just—they don’t just send him home right away. They had to figure out what happened first. For his death certificate. Or maybe their records. Or maybe for us. But they did an autopsy—which was part of the identification I think.”

“What’d it say?” Scar asks. 

It’s a long moment before Grian responds. “He probably died of dehydration. Which meant it probably only took a few days. They don’t think he had any water on him. They think maybe he’d been headed to the creek—” like I was, but he doesn’t say it. He continues. “He had a fracture in his leg. They think that’s why he was stuck there.”

“Awful,” Scar says softly.

“He was probably dead before the first week of the search was done.” Grian shakes his head sharply to dispel the thought. “Anyway, uh. They flew him back to England. We buried him. Had a funeral. It was really nice, actually.”

There was just so much happening at the funeral that it’s a blur in his mind. He was still receiving treatment for his burns and had everything wrapped. He was still having trouble sleeping. He felt like a shell of a fake person being forced to interact with the real people. The funeral was wonderful, affirming, and full of people he hadn’t seen in years. People who’d loved Mumbo, too. But it was also deeply overwhelming. 

“You were in England this whole time then?” Scar says. “‘Cause you said something about international calls earlier.”

Grian nods. “Yeah. I went back a week after all of it happened. Stayed there, with my family.”

“But you came back here.”

“I had to,” he says, trying to force some brightness into his words. “Couldn’t just leave you all alone without saying goodbye.”

Scar reaches out a hand, and scratches Jellie under the chin. She purrs harder. He says, “Why’s it have to be goodbye?”

“Scar.”

“I know,” he says miserably. “I know.”

This isn’t his home, and it especially isn’t without Mumbo. Grian had followed him here, and now that he was gone, there wasn’t any reason to stay. Well—not a good reason. He’d be lying if he said this wasn’t breaking his heart too. 

“I have things I have to wrap up here,” Grian says. “Stuff like our apartment. Those things need to be packed up and shipped back. And I need to sell my car. It’s all tedious stuff. Two of my other friends came with me to help me so I didn’t have to do it all by myself.”

“Your friends came? And you didn’t bring them to meet me?” Scar says in an exaggeratedly scandalized tone. 

Grian smiles a little, and looks over at Scar. “It was private.”

He’d left Jimmy and Martyn in a cabin just outside of town. They’d been gracious enough to allow him to take a detour on their trip just to come here. None of his friends were very keen on questioning him these past few weeks. Sometimes he hated it, and wished they just treated him normally. Other times he was grateful they spared him any need to explain. 

Then, he abruptly remembers. “Wait,” he says. “I had something for you. I would get it but…” He gestures at Jellie, who is not planning on letting him stand up any time soon.

“You’re cat-trapped,” Scar says. “Where is it?”

“The outer pocket of my bag. It’s a piece of paper.” Then he adds, “Don’t look at it until you get back out here!”

Scar steps gently over Grian, and disappears into the lookout for a moment. It’s dark and silent outside, except for the constant purr from Jellie that seems to radiate through his body. Then, just as fast, Scar is back and settling back down onto the catwalk boards. In his hand is a battered piece of yellow lined paper, singed on one edge.

“You can unfold it now,” Grian says, and Scar does. 

He has to squint to appreciate it in the dim moonlight, but once he sees it recognition snaps across his face like lightning. 

“This is my lookout,” Scar says, and then turns to look at Grian with wide eyes. “Wait, you actually drew it when I said so.”

Grian’s face heats up, and he glances away. “I…thought that maybe you should have it. As a thank you.”

“I love it,” Scar says. “It looks amazing.”

“Sorry it isn’t in better condition,” he says. “It was in my bag that got left behind. The rangers retrieved it along with…they mailed the stuff they found back to me, afterward. So I brought it here to you.”

“I think it’s in perfect condition,” Scar says. “It makes it real.” Then, he beams. “I’m going to hang this in the cabin. Frame it, maybe.”

Grian groans. “It isn’t that good,” he says.

“It should be on display!”

“Please, no,” Grian says.

“I guess you’ll just have to come again next year so I can prove you wrong. You won’t know what hit you when you see how good this looks framed,” Scar declares. Then he adds, softer. “You can come again, you know. You can always come back.” 

“I’ll come back. I hope so,” Grian says. “After all, I’ve got the rest of my life to do it.”

»»———-　　———-««

Grian leaves the lookout the next morning, a little before midday. The day is bright and sunny and cloudless. In his bag are two new items: a pair of rolled up mini paintings, and Scar’s contact information penciled on a piece of paper. 

He walks forward, one foot in front of the other, just like always.

<< Chapter Eleven | Masterpost

[stikiduk]

I’m starting my headcanon journey today with my favorite mayhem member Zoot. It also includes some canon info I found via. Electric Mayhem’s twitter. Look down here vvv

First off, I feel like if he was human, he’d be Jewish-American.

Starting with one I have already shared, Zoot has a violent nature towards Mahna Mahna and no one else.

Now with the first actually canon fact, Zoot has no sense of time. He actually deems time a ‘social construct.’ Perhaps it’s because of oversleeping.

Speaking of oversleeping, I’m confident he has narcolepsy. It’s almost obvious because of his habit of falling asleep at completely random times. This is also why he has poor memory, because he mixes up his dream memories and real life memories. He also sings and plays in his sleep which is canon.

Another canon fact from the twitter is that Zoot calls himself ‘Wilbur’ in his head. Perhaps it’s just a gag, but I’m taking it seriously because it’s my account and I can do what I want.

Because of this I have two ideas. One is Wilbur is Zoot’s middle name. In this context, his name would be Zoot Wilbur Zootowski. But there’s also another one that’s more ‘out there’ yet I like it more. Wilbur is Zoot’s real first name, but people always called him ‘Zoot’ because of his last name and it’s similar to the sound of a saxophone. After a while he forgot his real name (specifically in the muppet movie) and since Floyd called him Zoot he just started to believe his legal name is Zoot.

For something more deliberately from my mind, I have a couple ideas for Zoot’s eyes. One is that is eyes are completely whited out or a bright icy blue. Either way they’re pretty eerie. That and the fact bright light hurts his eyes are why he wears sunglasses.

(Second image comes from Pinterest)

I don’t exactly know how to label his gender and sexuality aside that he forgets his identity often. Think “Hold on, I’m a guy?” or like those scenes from Sam and Max. Think,

Floyd: Don’t look to excited Zoot, you don’t even like girls!

Zoot: I don’t?

Zoot actually learned his telekinesis from Janice sometime between the 2015 muppets and muppets mayhem.

Speaking of Janice, I think it’d be both funny and sad if Zoot completely forgot about their relationship after a while. Maybe when Janice got back with Dr. Teeth, Zoot was completely alright with it because he eventually forgot they were dating in the first place.

Might just be my multi-shipper brain talking, but I also think he might’ve had a fling with Floyd as well. He forgot about that too. After all these years I feel like all the members of the band are dating each other (except Animal of course) so at this point he doesn’t have to remember who exactly he’s dating. (Also their ship name could be Floot like ‘flute’ and I think that’s funny)

Another canon fact, Zoot’s first experience with a saxophone was him picking one up in a music shop and the owner kicking him out.

Zoot is a fan of cats and manatees, and he’s afraid of snakes.

Also I feel like Zoot met Jimmy after he bought a pair of ‘muppet shoes’ off the internet. Turns out his shoes themselves were muppets.

His two belly buttons were the result of some sort of mutation, and I don’t think I need to elaborate.

The reason he sometimes says ‘sorry father!’ when he wakes up sometimes is because his dad would get angry at him for napping every now and then.

He doesn’t smoke, since he wants to keep his lungs healthy to be able to play his instrument.

Lastly, a few people have explained Zoot’s odd personality on constantly being under the influence of something. In my opinion, I feel like Zoot is just genuinely like this. And I love him for that.

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[lavaffair]

Tongue Tied

Inukag Fluff Week Prompt: Secret/Stolen Kisses

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33168943

Miroku stared at the half demon with raised eyebrows as he growled impatiently.

“How long does it take for two women to get ready?” It sounded more like a complaint than a question, and the raven-haired man chuckled.

“Inuyasha, this happens every time, why do you seem to forget this?”

Inuyasha huffed in frustration. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

An annoyed, muffled voice interrupted the men in the living room. “Inuyasha, shut up! Miroku, baby, we’re almost done!” His girlfriend, Sango, called from behind the door. She and Kagome were getting ready for their night out.

A dumb grin immediately appeared on Miroku’s face at the pet name Sango called him. His girlfriend of four years, they have been in this successfully established relationship for a long time. Inuyasha had no idea he would have ever seen his best friend be so loyal to one woman. He was happy for them, no doubt about that, and he was glad there was someone in the world that made Miroku happy.

Miroku was such a huge playboy back in college, and it was not until they both met the girls that Miroku’s main focus turned to Sango. It was an overnight change, a switch that had gone off in his head at the sight of her. Suddenly no other girl mattered, with pointless one-night stands and aimless flirting meaning nothing to the guy.

Back then, Miroku’s mission was to somehow get Sango to agree to go on one date with him, and she would refuse every single time. It was entertaining honestly, and he and Kagome would place bets on the sidelines to see what would happen. The winner would treat the other to a meal of their choice, and the stakes only got higher as Sango’s feelings started to get more obvious.

Eventually, she cracked and agreed to go on a date with the persistent man. They were casual for a while, with Sango being not very confident in how true Miroku was with his feelings. Though, he proved himself every time. And as they spent more time alone together, Inuyasha and Kagome’s friendship only became stronger.

For Inuyasha, it was a big deal, although he would never admit it. He was never great with women, and he was stuck around Miroku most of the time watching him flirt with a random girl every night. He was not the best influence, and Inuyasha was not going to take dating advice from a guy who never took dating seriously.

Kagome was his friend and an incredible one at that. She was always there for him, and he found it really easy for him to talk to her about things he had never told Miroku. At first it scared him; being so open and honest to a person was new to him, but Kagome calmed him. She brought him reassurance and safety, and it engulfed him in a warm aura that he had not felt since his mother was alive. She meant a lot to him, and he was grateful for the events that happened in order for their friendship to grow stronger.

Which, of course, had led them to secretly dating each other for the last month and a half now.

“Aw, baby, they’re almost done.” Inuyasha teased with a shit-eating grin.

Miroku laughed, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a beautiful woman calling you baby my friend.”

Inuyasha chose to ignore the jab and smirked in return. “So I can get whipped like you? I’ll pass.”

The bedroom door clicked open, revealing the two girls who had been hidden behind it dressed to the nines. Sango looked great dressed in dark blue pants that shimmered every time she moved and a halter top with the same color. The top had a crossing design that wrapped around her waist and went underneath her bust. Although, it was the girl beside her that grabbed all of Inuyasha’s attention, and it was incredibly difficult not to make it obvious.

Kagome took his breath away with every second that passed, her wavy raven hair cascading downward and framing her face as if she was a painting. The dress she had on had his body temperature rising at a steady rate. The way the satin material melted into her curves had his heart skipping a beat. It was olive in color, and Inuyasha made a mental note to buy her more clothes in green.

He felt like he was going to die, and he could not do a thing about it except stand here pretending like he was not staring at the most beautiful person in the room. Kagome was having a hard time restraining herself as well, seeing Inuyasha dressed up a little more than usual while still staying true to his comfort and fashion had her mouth-watering.

They had to control themselves. This was not the time. They both agreed to keep this a secret for now, only because they wanted to test out the waters before announcing it to their best friends. As nosy as they were most of the time, it was a miracle that they had yet to find out. The new couple wanted to enjoy their private time together. Besides, it made things a lot more fun. Miroku and Sango would l find out eventually, with it probably being a lot sooner than later since Inuyasha and Kagome were realizing that they definitely could not go back to strictly being friends.

The attraction was there, deeply welled into the ground with no chance of coming loose. Their friendship had blossomed into something they both had not expected, and it took a long time for Inuyasha to come to terms with it before he came clean to Kagome. He was a nervous wreck that day, but so was she, and when he had laid out his heart to her she was right there with him. It was surreal for the two of them, which is why they decided to keep it a secret for the time being. Everything was very new to the pair, as they had not planned on ever falling for each other in the first place.

Quickly, Inuyasha played it off and groaned, “Finally! You guys took forever.”

“Thanks! You look great too. You dress up nice.” Kagome fired back, but he could tell it was just a gimmick.

Sango, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “It must be so nice to put on a pair of pants and a shirt and call it a day. Maybe even cologne if we’re so lucky.” She smirked, “Kagome and I, on the other hand, love to go all out. We’re hot already, so we don’t have to, but we want to.”

“Yeah, we all agreed we’d go out dressed up for once! We never do this as a group, and it’s going to be fun!” Kagome chimed in. Her smile was contagious, and it was taking everything within him to not launch himself at her and kiss her.

Miroku cleared his throat, “Well unlike someone over here, I think you both look wonderful.” He walked over to Sango and slowly slid his hand down to her bottom, “I think your butt looks great in these pants.” That earned him a slap to the hand.

“Ever the charmer.” Inuyasha retaliated.

“Let me praise my woman in peace.” He said as he feathered his girlfriend's cheek with kisses.

Kagome stuck out her tongue in mock disgust, “Ugh, Inuyasha, let’s go before they decide to bail on us.” She grabbed her bag and walked out in front of him, secretly allowing his eyes to look at her as he followed her out.

Their friends were quick on their tail, and out of the door, finally making their way to Miroku’s car. When they had all sat down inside, Kagome felt around for her phone and realized she had left it inside.

“Wait! I gotta go back for my phone. I left it on the bed!” She yelled.

“Ugh.” Inuyasha complained, “You’re so forgetful. I’ll go with you.” He unclicked his seatbelt to get out of the car, “We can give these two some alone time.”

Kagome giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at Sango, “Have fun. We won’t be long!” She scurried out of the car.

The journey back to the apartment felt endless as the couple felt the tension build between them. As soon as they were both out of sight, their hands met and entangled with one another. They walked in silence, the air felt too heavy between them to spare even one word to one another.

When Kagome turned the key to let them both back into the apartment, Inuyasha's hands were on her quicker than the flash, his lips crashing into hers before she could even get the door closed.

“You little liar.” He whispered into her mouth. “You left your phone on purpose.”

She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer. They were both smiling into the kiss as they savored finally being alone together.

“Did I?” She kissed his nose, “What if I actually left it here? You did say I’m forgetful.”

Inuyasha looked at her with awestruck eyes, taking her in completely before kissing her again. “I don’t believe you.” He kissed her face all over, leaving no inch of skin without a touch from his lips.

He left her in a fit of giggles while he continuously kissed her all over, making sure to leave some around the ticklish spot on her neck. “ They're gonna get- haha suspicious if we-“ More giggles, “-Take too long!” She let out.

The half-demon slowed down, kissing her forehead and nose before withdrawing. “It’s not my fault you look so good in this dress.”

“Hmm. If I remember correctly, you didn’t say that when I first walked out.” She teased, “But I do remember hearing you tell Miroku that he’s whipped.” She raised her brow.

Losing the battle, he pressed his lips against her plush ones once again. “Well, he is.”

She laughed, and he took in the beautiful sound. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

He could not take his eyes off her lips, pink and a little swollen from their shared kisses, her big brown eyes, and the freckles that danced on her nose. “Oh no, definitely not.” He lied.

That earned him another giggle from her, and he wanted to keep kissing her so that he could get her to keep laughing. “I wonder who’s the liar now.” She tapped his nose with her finger, earning a little nose scrunch from him. “Now if you excuse me, I need to go get my phone. Sango’s probably spammed texted me by now!”

With one last kiss, Inuyasha let her go into her bedroom to find her cellphone. It was exactly where it was, right on the bed with five texts from her best friend. Although, that will not be the story she tells when they get back into the car.

***

The bar and lounge were packed as any normal bar would be on a Friday night. There were people sitting on the stools right by the bar, as well as the tables and couches that were spaced throughout the room.

The group of four were lucky enough to find a couch with a table and claimed it as theirs before someone else could take it. The music was blaring loudly in the building as the group of friends were figuring out food and drinks for the night. They had agreed on a bar and lounge because clubs are rowdy, don’t have any food, and Inuyasha cannot handle them whatsoever. However, he can definitely handle a bar and lounge. It was a plus that they also sold food along with their drinks.

Inuyasha and Kagome, seated side by side, did their best to fight the urge to hold hands. Unfortunately, they were not seated at a table where they could get away with it. Their hands were on full display, and therefore, could not interact the way they wished they could. Their best friends, on the other hand, were already showcasing their relationship to everybody in the room.

“Alright, what are we getting to eat?” Kagome spoke up, a slight jump coming to her the more she got excited about their orders.

Just as much as he loved to eat, so did his girl, and every time she was able to eat he noticed that she did a little dance in her chair from excitement. She never noticed how often she did that, and he quickly realized how cute it was that she did.

Sango looked through the menu with her best friend, “We have to get wings. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them, and wings are part of tonight’s menu.”

Miroku laughed, “Babe, get whatever you want. Kagome, the same goes for you. We’ll pay for the tab.”

Kagome scoffed, “You guys always pay! Let us do it for once.”

Inuyasha nudged at her, hoping no one noticed how he poked at her thigh. “Not a chance. It’s not up for debate.”

“Agreed.” Miroku continued, “All you ladies need to do is sit there and enjoy your night.”

Sango rolled her eyes, “We’re paying next time! No excuses.”

Kagome flexed her arm to show off her strength, “We’ll arm wrestle next time and the winner pays! Meaning, Sango and I will pay.” She smirked.

Inuyasha raised his eyebrow, “Did you forget I’m stronger than all of you?”

“Mmm, you wouldn’t dare beat me.” His girlfriend struck back, a playful smile present on her face. All he wanted to do at that moment was kiss it away.

“Haha!” Miroku laughed, “She’s got a point.”

While the girls continued to check out the menu, Inuyasha let his hand linger closer to Kagome’s exposed thigh. It was not much, but to him it was something. This allowed him to remind himself that she was all his and vice versa. They could not be openly affectionate yet, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

Once the girls put in their food orders along with everyone’s desired drinks, there was nothing else they could do but wait. The night was still young, and normally the little dance floor in the middle of the room did not get packed until people were drunk. If the girls chose to dance, they would have to wait.

“Alright, so, what are we doing after this?” Sango asked, her voice rising an octave higher to attempt to speak over the music.

“What?” Inuyasha asked, “We’re already at the spot we planned to come to, and you wanna go somewhere else?”

“Inuyashaaaaa,” Kagome dragged on. “Don’t be such a party pooper.” She smacked his cheek playfully, a low growl immediately vibrated deeply in his chest. His girlfriend could not hear it, but oh boy could she feel it, and she was reveling in the effect she had on him.

It was not fair, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to take her away and kiss her senseless again, he wanted to bask in her warmth and in the comforting sound of her giggles.

He already wanted to go home.

He relaxed and raised an eyebrow at her and put on his best-annoyed face. “I’m not a party pooper, Kagome.”

“Au contraire! My friend, you never want to stay out past 2 AM because you’re tired.” Miroku laughed.

“Face it, dog boy, you can’t hang.” Sango teased.

Kagome watched him pout, his annoyance extremely clear on his face, and all she could do was giggle at him. She understood why he hated staying out so late, seeing as how he worked so hard at the shop and knew he was very tired from his job. She knew he knew that they were just teasing him, but he was still going to complain about it.

“Tch. I’m gonna go get the drinks, maybe you guys will get tired after a few shots.” He stood up and made his way towards the bar, his broad back on full display for Kagome to see. She really could not believe how lucky she was, scoring someone so handsome and attentive like him.

Would she admit that it drove her a bit mad that other girls had their eyes glued to him when he walked to the bar too? No, not unless he asked her to. But it did bother her.

Quickly, she shot out of her seat, alarming her friends from her sudden burst. Sango looked at her concerned, and a little confused.

“I’m just gonna go help him out.” She lied. “Four drinks isn’t easy to carry back.”

“Don’t get lost.” Sango called back to her, but it went straight through one ear and out the other.

Kagome sauntered towards the bar, her brown eyes directly on her white-haired target, and smoothly positioned herself right beside him. He was standing beside the long table with no drinks in sight, casually waiting for the bartender with a pout still on his face.

“Baby,” Kagome chimed. “I was just kidding. You’re not a party pooper.”

He did not look at her and decided to keep staring at the fluorescent bottle displayed in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She wrapped her hands around his arm and nuzzled into him, selfishly hoping the women at the other tables were watching. “You look cute when you pout.”

A blush crawled into his cheeks, staining his face red while he tried his best to look like the compliment did nothing to him. “I’m not pouting.”

She laughed again, and it sounded breathless and full of admiration all at the same time. “Do you want me to kiss it away?”

He looked at her eyes, and then at her lips, and back up at her eyes again. Those full, plush, soft lips that he could kiss all day long, for the rest of his life, enticing him to follow through.

“You’re okay with Thing 1 and Thing 2 knowing about us now?” He looked straight into her eyes, making sure to catch any hesitation or discomfort at the question.

“No,” she bit her lip to suppress the grin she had on her face. “Kissing you in secret is always fun, and we can do that anywhere, but I don’t want to hide us anymore from our friends.” She squeezed his arm for emphasis.

“If you’re okay with telling them now, so am I.”

Inuyasha looked down at her, a beautiful pink colored her cheeks at her revelation, and he could not help but smile at her. He kissed her forehead, careful not to smudge her makeup, and grinned. “Babe, get ready to be shown off to everyone. Because after this, everyone’s gonna know about my hot, annoying, and sweet girlfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “You gonna keep the annoying part in there?”

The half-demon laughed and patted her head. “That’s the part of you that made me fall for you so hard.”

“Drinks for Inuyasha.” the bartender interrupted.

It was Kagome’s turn to pout as the couple made their way back to their friends. With two drinks in each hand, they carefully placed them down on the table and sat back down.

“Inuyasha..” Sango asked, her voice coming off more threatening than usual. “What did you do to Kagome?”

His girlfriend's plush lips were still in a cute little pout, and he could tell immediately that she was trying to get back at him for calling her annoying. They were both messing around with each other as they normally do, but looking at her soft lips and with their previous conversation still fresh in his mind, Inuyasha knew what to do.

“He called me annoying.” Kagome answered, “So, I’m giving him the silent treatment.”

He could not stop his eyes from rolling at her, a humongous grin showing on his face. “Oh, relax, you know I didn’t mean it.”

Kagome’s brown eyes narrowed at him, but instead of looking angry, she looked like she was challenging him. “Hmm, remind me of what you said back at the bar then.”

That was it, the urge to kiss her again was too strong, seeing her so playfully riled up at his antics. She looked so good in this green dress, with her wavy hair cascading down her arms and face, her blushing cheeks that makeup could never compare to, and her challenging eyes that were staring right into his.

It was an instant pull, like a magnet, that led him to immediately latch his lips onto hers. Inuyasha felt her body give a little jolt in surprise, but she quickly molded her lips right against his, the feeling of kissing him was too addicting. She fisted her dainty hands onto his leather jacket and latched on for support while her body turned into putty because all she could think about was kissing him back. One of his large hands lay firmly on the small of her back while the other was caressing her cheek.

If they had a choice they would do this forever with one another and never go back to reality again. But half-demon or not, they both needed to pull apart to get some air. Their chests heaved dramatically while they stared at each other, both of their faces the reddest they have ever been.

“Finally.” Miroku snorted, “I was wondering when you two were going to crack.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

“You guys aren’t exactly the best at keeping secrets, you know.” Sango added.

“Yeah, especially when you guys look like you will jump each other at any second,” Miroku smirked, his eyes flicking back and forth from the couple in front of him.

Kagome huffed, “I figured this would happen.” She could not help but laugh. “Why didn’t you guys just say anything?”

“You placed bets, didn't you?” The half-demon glared. He, too, had his suspicions that their best friends had figured it out a while back, but for Kagome’s sake, he continued with their agreement on staying a secret until later on.

“‘Course we did, we wouldn’t be your best friends if we didn’t place bets.” Miroku’s violet eyes looked into Sango’s, and he smirked. “Also, we both liked to watch you two pretend like you weren’t into each other. It was fun.”

“Keh. Assholes.” Inuyasha scoffed.

“Never mind that,” Sango pulled Kagome in for a hug. “I’m so happy! This couldn't have gone more perfect!”

Kagome was in a fit of giggles all over again, and immediately she was pulled off from her best friend and into her boyfriend's arms.

“Well, guess we couldn’t keep it a secret after all.” The half-demon smirked.

A bright smile that Kagome could not hold back appeared on her face. “Nope, I guess not.”

They kissed each other again, and again, and again. By the time the group of friends all left the lounge, Inuyasha and Kagome looked spent, with swollen kissed lips and a drunken look in their eyes.

[jtsfavslut]

Falling [G.D]

Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles. 

Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!

Word Count: 4K+

Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons​] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333

   Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.

This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.

A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.

The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.

It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.

A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.

All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.

Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.

Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.

She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.

She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of.  Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.

They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.

The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.

With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.

She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.

"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.

"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"

"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.

"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.

"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.

"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.

"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.

"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.

Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.

"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.

She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.

"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.

"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.

"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.

"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.

"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.

"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.

"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,

She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.

"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.

"Any luck with that?"

"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.

"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.

"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.

"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.

"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.

"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.

"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"

"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"

"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.

"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.

. . .

Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.

She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.

I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.

It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.

Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.

She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.

She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.

They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.

"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.

"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.

"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.

"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"

It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.

"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.

"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.

"You wrote about me?"

"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.

"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.

"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.

Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.

Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.

We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.

There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.

I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?

That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.

 This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!! 

Tag List:   @guiltydols @evergreendolan @ydolanssss @rhyrhy462 @resilientdolan @simplyxdolxstyles @simplyxdolxstyles​ {If you wanna be added to my Tag List, just let me know :) lol}

[ruzek-halstead]

i knew i loved you then (but you'd never know)

i have no self control and another fic was born out of what was supposed to be just an outline on how i would write it. sorry, not sorry. thanks @thedeathdeelers for sending in the incredible prompt that led to this fic!!

julie molina, pop princess taking on the world by storm, with her trusty bodyguard by her side. a short take on how luke and julie fall in love while travelling the world. 

bodyguard au

masterlist

For as long as she could remember, Julie Molina couldn’t picture herself doing anything except performing in front of screaming fans every night. It was everything she ever wanted. She would practice by herself in front of her mirror, giggling when she spotted her mom peeking from the doorway. Sometimes Rose would join her, grabbing Julie’s hairbrush to harmonize with her daughter. Julie would sometimes stop and stare in awe at her mother’s range; every shred of talent Julie had was because of her. It was their routine, their tradition. Until it wasn’t. 

After her mother’s death, it took Julie a while to be able to sing; by herself in front of the mirror and in front of anyone else. Why should she get the opportunity to showcase her talent when the entire reason she had any at all wasn’t there to see it anymore? But then she realized the only way to rid herself of the anger and hurt she was feeling, was to write it down. Her words eventually transformed into song lyrics, and without even realizing it, she started singing again. It happened gradually, to the point where she didn’t even notice what a massive change it was for her. Then she started playing for an audience; she needed an outlet for her thoughts and feelings and this was the perfect opportunity for her. When she was noticed by a producer at random, it didn’t even hit her until she was signing her first ever record deal. Julie signed the papers, stepped into the bathroom and cried for a solid ten minutes. She wanted so badly for her mom to be here with her, to witness this monumental moment. Julie knew, no matter what, Rose was looking down from above, beaming with pride. She promised herself she would do this for her, to make her proud. That was how Julie found herself on her third tour, following her third number one album. Her first album went straight to number one. Julie remembered the moment she found out; she was grocery shopping with her father when she received a call from her label to give her the good news. Both she and Ray couldn’t contain the screams of excitement as they jumped around in the cereal aisle. After that, everything changed for Julie. In preparation for her first local tour, multiple people were hired to take part of the crew; so many that Julie couldn't possibly name them all. She was appreciative of every single one, especially the ones in her immediate circle. While she played her piano mostly, she still needed a band for the road; that was how she met Alex, Reggie and Bobby. Alex dominated on drums, throwing some sass everywhere he went. He constantly made rehearsals the place to be, sometimes maybe a bit too distracting. Reggie played the bass so passionately, Julie didn't think she'd ever met someone so passionate about an instrument. He always kept her laughing in rehearsals, especially with his dances as he played. Bobby took the lead as their rhythm guitarist; he was quiet and shy, but when he joined in on the other boy's shenanigans, he felt completely in his element, almost like they'd been friends for ages. She loved her band so much, she insisted they accompany her on every future tour. While her first one was small and local, she never could've dreamed that she would be embarking on her third tour, this one being a world tour. It was the most exciting journey, and now at the age of twenty-two, she would be taking this trip solo. It was intimidating, but she knew she had the best team. It also happened that she had the best protection detail around. The more she was known, the faster her fanbase grew and just to be on the safe side, her label hired her a bodyguard to accompany her on the first tour. When she first met him, she was shocked; he was so young. She truly believed he could do no better of a job than she could, but during her first mobbing, he proved just how resilient he was. Julie quickly realized that when it came to her safety, Luke Patterson did not mess around. He was two years older than her, and it seemed like her label was trying to surround her with staff that she could feel comfortable around. At the time, it was her first tour and the only person she knew was her father and brother. It was nice to have people close to her age that she could pass the time with. Luke had worked with other celebrities before he landed his gig protecting Julie Molina. But he could safely say, no one he had ever met even came close to her. With someone being thrown into the limelight at such a young age, the rush of fame could very easily corrupt them. But that didn't happen with Julie. She was always so kind, so appreciative of everyone helping her dreams come true. It was so easy to get along with her, and it helped that they got on exceptionally well. He spent more time with Julie than anyone else in the crew; he quite literally watched her grow as a popstar, at how she handled her success. But she never had a wild phase. All she ever wanted to do was make her family proud and continue to make music. Julie had such a big heart. He knew it was unprofessional, but he couldn't help it - his attachment grew. By the time her third tour rolled around, they'd known each other for years; they were friends more than anything. It became normal for him to linger longer than necessary, but Julie never seemed to mind. Everyone knew he had his own space on the second tour bus for crew, but they also didn't question when he began spending more and more time in Julie's tour bus. Once again, she never objected. "What do you think of this?" Julie was clad in a pair of sweatpants and a merch hoodie. Her feet were adorned with fluffy slippers and they were hoisted on Luke's lap. They were on the road to their next city, Julie was exhausted from her show earlier that night, but she was adamant on finishing a new song. Even though she was celebrating the success from album three with a tour, she still couldn't stop herself from starting on album four. Luke always warned her that she would burn herself out, but her determination strayed beyond his wise words. Luke read over Julie's lyrics, humming thoughtfully. She was aware that he was into music, but Luke never revealed just how into music he really was. He wasn't confident enough about his vocal abilities to sing in front of a worldwide popstar, even if it was only Julie. She also knew he dabbled in writing songs, but he seriously undersold it, because if she were to ever ask to see his material, he wouldn't even be able to show her. Why wouldn't he be able to show her? Because he wasn't sure when it happened, but somewhere between their years of knowing each other, months upon months of spending every waking moment together, Luke fell in love. Every line he wrote, every word, was about Julie. "That's beautiful, Jules," he had responded softly. It was dark in the bus, only the soft lighting from the lamp beside Julie illuminating their surroundings. She was growing sleepy; playing a two hour show every night really drained the life out of her. She was hyper aware of how close Luke was next to her. She knew he wouldn't get off her bus until their next stop, wherever that may be. Julie might as well enjoy his company while she still had it. She grabbed the notebook out of his hands and tossed it aside. She also pulled her feet off his lap and curled them underneath her instead, scooting closer to lie her head comfortably on his shoulder. Luke stiffened for a moment. But then she curled her arm around his and he nearly melted. All the words died on his tongue. He wanted nothing more than to be here in the moment. He knew it was wrong. His feelings were incredibly inappropriate, but it wasn't as if he could shut them off. He didn't think his feelings affected his job performance; if anything, he felt even more motivated to keep her as safe as possible. It didn't change his behaviour with her either. He would never do anything to make her uncomfortable or ruin the bond between them. He merely suffered with his feelings in silence; it was for the best, and he knew that. Luke genuinely believed his feelings were completely one-sided. But as time went on, he started noticing things. It was Julie's first worldwide tour; the stakes were much higher and Luke knew his job was more important than ever. His focus was first and foremost on Julie's well-being, feelings be damned. He truly tried to even distance himself, keep it strictly professional. But then he noticed the way Julie's eyes would linger on him sometimes. Sometimes her smiles were softer, almost like they were just for him. At first, he thought he was absolutely losing his mind. Maybe his brain was just trying to trick him and show him just how ridiculous this whole thing was, but eventually, he couldn't deny it anymore. Not after she basically stared directly at him for the entirety of one of her love songs. And it wasn't only that. Sometimes she would hit him with some flirty comments, ones where he would actually have to take a moment because what? But then other times, she avoided him like the plague. He was having a hard time keeping up with her and pinning her down, but he was really starting to get the impression that maybe his feelings weren't completely one-sided. Eventually, she continued to avoid him like the plague (which, made his job increasingly more difficult since he was supposed to be protecting her). It made things awkward and this was supposed to be a good experience, especially for her. Every time he tried to clear the air and have an adult conversation about the tension between them, she did everything in her power to avoid it. The excuses she came up with bewildered him. He tried to be as patient as possible. This was her moment, he didn't want to ruin anything. But she knew this better than anyone, he was everything but a patient man. It all came to a head in Barcelona. Luke finally felt like he was making some progress again. Julie had actually stayed in his presence longer than needed and seemed to enjoy it as they threw some jokes back and forth. He wished her luck before she went on stage and she sent him such a blinding smile, he momentarily forgot how to breathe. So, when she finished her show, he politely congratulated her, as he did every night. He was momentarily knocked backwards a few steps as she threw herself into his arms. He was surprised, but in the absolutely best way. It had been a while since she'd felt comfortable enough to be in his embrace. Luke could feel her melting into the hug. But then it went on a second too long, or it got far too intimate for Julie because she pulled away as if he burned her. She refused to meet his gaze and mumbled something about going to change. Luke was so glad everyone around was too busy to realize what had just happened. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure what happened; all he knew was that he was feeling awkward and uncomfortable and he really wasn't sure he could go on like this any longer. She was clearly feeling something, though what that was, he wasn't sure. But her inability to have a conversation with him about it was really starting to put a strain on their professional and personal relationship. Luke wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on. Later that night, when it was time to lead Julie back to her tour bus, Luke checked out their path before bringing Julie out. Fans and paparazzi clouded their way and Luke knew he had to clear a safe way for Julie to get the few feet to her tour bus. When Julie stormed past him, his jaw dropped in shock. It took him a second to spring into action; he had to literally run to catch up with her and get in front. She knew the routine, they did this all the time. Julie always went behind Luke; always. Luke grunted angrily as Julie attempted to move past him for the fourth time since they exited the building. As soon as they reached the door of her tour bus, Julie zoomed inside and shut the door harshly behind her. Luke took a deep, calming breath before storming in after her. "What the hell was that?" Julie ignored him as she went to the fridge to grab a drink; Luke's eye twitched. "I'm responsible for your safety. How am I supposed to keep you safe if you pull that bullshit?" He was angry now and his tone conveyed that. To his utter infuriation, Julie continued to ignore him. She took a seat on the couch and grabbed the television remote. She was acting as if he wasn't even there. Luke stepped forward and captured the remote out of her hand. Her venomous eyes turned on him and he had to take a step back at the pure hatred within them. "Julie," he breathed, brokenly. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "What is going on? You've been avoiding me for weeks." Her eyes seemed to soften, but her gaze was still nowhere near how she used to look at him. He wasn't sure where everything had changed. But then he watched as Julie swallowed harshly and stared at anything but him. That was when he knew. He knew this wouldn't work. He was in love with her and she couldn't even stand to be around him anymore. He couldn't do this. He couldn't protect her anymore. Not from the world and not from him. Luke's heart started to break the moment he realized what he had to do next. "I'm sorry, Julie," Luke's voice cracked with the pain he was feeling. It felt like his heart was being physically removed from his chest. "I can't do this anymore." Julie finally met his eyes, eyebrows furrowing at the glimmer of tears. "I'm compromised. I'm in love you with and I clearly can't protect you anymore. You can't even look at me." Julie felt her heart physically drop. He looked so broken, so crushed, quite literally ready to cry. He finally admitted what Julie had been trying to admit to herself for months. He was so much braver than her; he was stepping down from his job because it was the 'better' option for both of them. He was stepping down from his job because of her. Because she had ignored him for months because she wasn't brave enough to face what she was feeling. It wasn't fair to him. It was time for Julie to be the brave one. Luke was ready to leave; he had backed up a few steps closer to the door. He was giving her an opportunity to stop him, to tell him something that would change his mind, but she didn't say anything. It broke his heart all over again. Before he could turn away to leave, Julie launched forward into his arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs locked around his waist. It was the closest they'd been in weeks, the most intimate they'd been ever. The words weren't coming to her. But Luke couldn't hold her the way she needed, not until she gave him something. "Don't leave me." His arms squeezed around her almost instantly, as tightly as he possibly could. His face was buried in her curls and he sighed. It still wasn't enough. "I don't think I can stay. Not when I feel the way I do." Julie pulled back to look into his eyes, her own shimmering with unshed tears. "What if I felt the same way?" Luke forgot how to breathe. There were no words in his brain, nothing he could say in this absolutely perfect moment. He didn't need to say anything though because Julie wasn't finished. "I think I'm in love with you too," she admitted, feeling the most vulnerable she ever had in her life. "Please don't leave." Julie's head found its way to Luke's neck. She couldn't let him go; she was too scared he would leave. "I'm not going anywhere, Julie." Even with his promise, she couldn't find it in her to let him go; so, she didn't. Luke sat them down on the couch, keeping her close. When she finally pulled her head out of his neck, she was met with his sparkling green eyes, shining with pure happiness. It coaxed a giggle from her lungs and Luke joined in. The pure joy they were feeling couldn't be matched. But then their laughter died off as Julie's eyes glanced down to Luke's mouth. The energy between them changed immediately. Luke's urge to kiss her was nearly overpowering, but he wanted Julie to feel comfortable. His hand found its way up to cradle her cheek; she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. He leaned his face closer, giving her an out, if she wanted it. But she didn't. Instead, she chased his lips with her own, pressing into him. She had wasted too much time acting like a child; she wasn't going to waste anymore. Her hands found themselves in his hair, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a low moan from him. Luke senses were overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. He pushed back against Julie's lips, as she deepened the kiss, parting his lips. He kissed her fiercely, like she was the oxygen he'd been deprived of. It was the type of kiss that left little room for thought; his focus was all on feeling this moment, remembering this moment. 

Julie pulled away with a giggle to take a breath. Luke still hadn't gotten enough of her and his mouth travelled to her jaw, dropping light butterfly kisses. Julie closed her eyes in contentment, tipping her head. When his mouth moved to her neck, all logic immediately flew out of her brain. She was unable to form coherent thoughts when Luke's tongue was doing that to her neck. When she let out a whisper of a whimper, Luke popped back up with hooded eyes. "God, I'm so in love with you," he mumbled before diving back into her lips. Julie loved him too, and in that moment, she vowed to never do anything to ever make him second guess his place in her life. 

x

okay so now that i wrote ‘luke and julie falling in love while travelling the world’ i want to write an even more fledged out fic WHERE THEY ACTUALLY TOUR THE WORLD AND FALL IN LOVE. i can’t be satiated. anyway, i hope you enjoyed.

tagging a few lovely mutuals who shared some interest: @brightattheorpheum @pink-flame @missjoolee @ourstarscollided @burntchromas 

[didsomeonesaydaddydraco]

What true love feels like - part 1 | Tom Felton imagine

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for...my very first TOM FELTON imagine. (Just kidding, I was probably the only one waiting lol).

Word count: 2129

Pairing: Tom Felton x reader

Note: This is going to be a mini series. I really hope you’ll like it. Section written in italic is a flashback.

When I was a little kid, I loved going to weddings. God knows how many times I was asked to be a flower girl or a bridesmaid. All the decoration, the music, the spirit of true love mesmerized me, and I usually find myself imagining my own wedding. I had it all planned out by the time I met Him. And when proposed to me after five years of dating, I knew my time had come. Everything looked exactly how I wanted it. The huge mansion was covered in white and blush pink decoration. The sweet scent of the innumerable amount of roses filled the whole place. Family members, friends and their dates were chatting and laughing together. The wedding registrar was already preparing by the arch made out of fairy lights. And the always rainy and chilly London woke up to one of the warmest spring mornings today. Even the weather was on my side.

- How are you feeling sweet girl? – my Mum asked me from the armchair, where she had been sitting on ever since the creator of my wedding dress came to the dressing room to help me put on my huge dress. I looked at myself in the mirror, admiring the perfectly made ball gown with the delicate waist line, hundreds of tulle layers, and sparkling sleeves. It was my dream dress.

- I’m not sure – I confessed to her – Am I supposed to be nervous?

- Nervous? – She looked at me confused – Honey, you might mistake your feeling with excitement. It’s normal for…

- I’m pretty bloody overwhelmed, Mum – I turned to her – Somehow, I feel like I’m going to make a huge mistake if I walk down that aisle.

For the last couple of months, I was too busy with planning the wedding that I totally forgot to take some time and concentrate on myself and on my feelings. I wanted everything to turn out as I imagined it when I was twenty. And everything was just like that. Except me. I woke up today with a knot in my stomach, no appetite and a very bad feeling. All I could think about was that I’m making a mistake.

- What do you mean? – Mum stood up from the chair and walked over to me so she could held my hand as a sign of support – Y/N?

I looked down at our hands, my eyes glued to the silver bracelet with the single white pearl charm hanging on it. I could still remember how his crystal blue eyes sparkled and how warm his gaze was when he gave it to me. We went to Rochefort-en-Terre for a little getaway. We wanted to be somewhere, where they didn’t know him, so we could be alone together. He saw this bracelet at a local family’s jewellery shop and he swore he just couldn’t not buy it. I had never took it off ever since then.

- I just wonder if he is really the one – I bit my bottom lip. I didn’t dare to look up to my Mum’s eyes. They paid everything for our wedding and never complained because of the expenses – I mean, we’re about to make a hopefully lifelong commitment. I just want to make sure I’m not making a mistake here. What if everything goes downhill after the wedding? What if we slowly fall out of love?

- Than you learn to love each other again – She put a finger under my chin, and forced me to look at her – Darling, you’re still young. Of course you have your doubts about a commitment like this. But here’s something to think about: the one that you truly love, will never make you wonder. There’s a difference in the way you love someone. There is the kind that you will fall in love with and this changes with circumstance and time. And then there is the love that you love with your entire being, it never fades, it’s timeless – she kissed my cheek – I’ll go and get your father. It’s almost time.

She left me there with my thoughts. He was such a great and loving person. Passionate about the things he loved. He was always there for everyone if they needed someone. He made me happy. He made me feel loved and respected. He gave me everything he could. And still, I was standing in the middle of the dressing room, questioning myself. I wanted nothing, but marrying my soulmate. I think the sign of a true soulmate isn’t someone you just want to do the super fun stuff with. A real soulmate is the person who makes any ordinary day fun. Some people make all these huge plans to do with their special someone, forget that. Find someone who you can take grocery shopping and still have a blast with. Find someone who makes you look forward to waking up on Monday. I think I had found it.

- Okay okay, listen – he laughed as he dragged me into the supermarket in the middle of the night. I had a very long day and my upcoming exams were stressing me out, but he wanted to help me relax and have a little bit of fun before I pull an all-night study session – Both of us will have exactly 5 minutes to find the best matches to the tasks. When I count to three, we both run to find the products.

- Babe – I whined and tugged on the sleeve of his sweater which I used as a PJ. We were both in our pyjamas, considering that he literally pulled me out of the bed while I was taking notes for my business law class – It’s almost midnight, and I really need to study.

- Shush – he silenced me with sass in his voice. It actually made me smile. He looked so adorable when he was acting like a kid – 5 minutes. 5 tasks.

- Alright, gimme the details – I rolled my eyes and put my hair up in a messy bun.

- First, go and find my favourite candy. Second, find something very random. Third, find something you think I should really try. Fourth, find something in my favourite colour – he led me to spot where we were about the start from.

- And what’s the fifth task? – I looked up at him.

- Find something which reminds you of our love – he kissed me quickly, but before I could kiss him back, he ran away like he was a cannon ball.

- Hey, cheater – I yelled after him, but my laugh gave me away. I loved that man.

I smiled at the memory. He always knew how to cheer me up, when I was down. But he also knew when he had to give me time and space too. I appreciated how he let me moan to him when I had a bad day, or how supportive he was about my dreams and goals. He never failed to be there for me and help me on my journey.

- Are you ready to go? – I jumped a little by the sound of my Dad. I was too deep in my memories and thoughts, I didn’t realize when he came in. He was standing by the door, my bouquet in his hand. He looked worried.

- What’s wrong? – I asked him. This morning he was fine and happy when we were having breakfast. In fact, he was excited about that he can annoy my brother and sister with the fact that their youngest sibling had gotten married first.

- Your mother told me about your unsureness – he smiled at me lightly. I sighed and sat down on the sofa carefully, not to wrinkle my dress. He sat down next to me and took my small hands in his huge ones – Y/N, if you’re constantly having to wonder where you stand with someone, maybe it’s time to stop standing and start walking.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about – I tried to fool him, but he was my father after all. He knew us better than we knew ourselves, so we could never get away with a silly little prank or if we tried to fake sick so we didn’t have to go to school.

- You think I haven’t noticed anything? – Dad laughed a little – June bug, you’ve been quite distant with him lately. He probably thinks that you were just busy with planning the wedding, but I see what I cannot see anymore. And that’s love. You’ve been looking at him like he was just a body, and not someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. And I want you to know, it’s okay – He squeezed my hand – Sometimes your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows.

I had to do the right thing. He might had been right about everything, but the whole situation was more complicated than that. That man really loved me. And he was probably already waiting at the altar, nervously looking around, looking at the entrance of the ball room so catch me there. I could see his smile in front of me. I could see him tearing up when my Dad places my hand in his. That man gave me his heart. I helped him pick up the pieces after his first love left him. He trusted me. I couldn’t break him. And Mum was probably right too. I can learn to love him again.

- I need to call him – I said rather to myself and not my Dad. He gave my hand a final squeezed and left me alone in the room. I was glad he didn’t ask me anything. I paced around the room, my dress flying around me while I was manically searching for my mobile. I was chewing on my lips and my heart was beating way too fast. How could I put myself in this situation? How could I do this to him? They were the longest five rings of the call before he finally picked up.

- Y/N? – His voice was surprised. He probably didn’t know why I was calling Him just right before I had to walk down the aisle to marry him – Are you okay?

No, I wasn’t. I forced myself to not to cry, because I didn’t want to ruin my makeup, but I could feel my eyes burning and my throat tightened. I was choking on my withheld sobs. I loved how his voice was smooth, a tiny bit raspy and manly, but playful at the same time. I could have listened to his voice all day long. Just listening how he told me everything about his day or what new projects he has been working on lately.

- I think we were meant to be, but we did it all wrong – I blurted out and collapsed back to the sofa. I let a single tear run down my cheek and drop on top of my pearl charm on my bracelet. I heard how his breathing fastened in the phone, like he was panicking. I was too. I didn’t know what was right or wrong. I desperately needed him by my side to feel his arms around my body, holding my close to himself. Feeling the warmth of his body calming down my shaking frame. I needed him to kiss into my hair and whisper in my ears that he has me and everything is going to fine – I just want to tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you, and I wish I could run to you, and I hope you know that every time I don’t…I almost do. And even though I’m unsure about most things in life, I am certain that I love you and will continue to love you forever.

- Y/N, what happened? – His voice was filled with worry. Knowing him he was already running his fingers through his hair, thinking about if he should come to see me right away or stay exactly where he was – Talk to me! What’s going on?

- I’m so sorry – I whispered into to phone. By this time, I couldn’t hold back my tears. And I didn’t even care anymore – I have to marry him…

- No, no you don’t have to – He was practically yelling. I only heard him yelling once, when he was completely lost in the ocean of feelings, and we were trying to figure out what was going on between us – Y/N, please…

- I love you, Tom – I said as a goodbye and ended the call. And with that, I ended something which I cherished for years. I ended a beautiful love story.

[killee]

Hello! hi :) I saw that you were taking requests and I was wondering if I could please request something for chrollo Lucifler x reader where he's intrigued by a random civilian he meets who is tracking down the phantom troupe and actually has some reliable leads? I wasn't sure if you only take request in the form of head canon or Drabbly type things but whatever suits you I'm fine with. And thank you so much, if this isn't inspiring that's totally fine! just ignore it :)))

hello! this request is honestly so amazing ughh I can think of so many ways to write this but there’s one idea I have in mind that I really like. I already have ideas for a part 2 (if there’s one) in my head :3 but anyways I hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind!

The Blogger

⌦ pairing: chrollo lucilfer x reader

⌦ fandom: hunter x hunter (2011)

⌦ word count: 1.1K (1177)

⌦ warning: none

⌯ Chrollo had noticed you trailing him ever since he had entered a small town on his journey to Yorknew for the Underground Auction. He wasn’t too worried since he was awfully confident in his combat ability, however, he hadn’t felt your nen aura while you were trailing him which lead him to have occurring two thoughts: you’d had excellent training in zetsu or in or you had no nen at all.

⌯ He could almost laugh at the second thought, it would be incredibly idiotic for someone with no nen to tail him, even if you had incredible hand-to-hand combat training, he would still win. As he got closer and closer to both edge of the town and to his destination, he grew more curious of the person’s intentions. Maybe having a chat before killing you wouldn’t hurt. He unnoticeable began leading you somewhere secluded from the public eye, he wouldn’t want to kill anyone in public and have all the attention on him before he even arrived to Yorknew.

⌯ He turned into an alleyway and hid until he spotted you hurrying to the alleyway as well, you began to walk further in the shaded alley and looked around for him. He took that time to sneak behind you and observe you. He didn’t feel anything even now, you must’ve been extremely confident not to let a single flow of nen out even at a moment like this. His mind began to wonder as he continued to watch you, could it be that were you a non-user?

⌯ “Why haven’t you attacked me yet?” You were startled and quickly turned around, he could see your face contour with fear. Your eyes were filled with fright but also with.. delight? You forced yourself to try to hide the emotion but it was already too late, he already knew. Yeah you were definitely not a nen user.

⌯ “H-Hello, Mr. Chrollo. I’m (F/N) (L/N) and I was wondering if you could take some time out of your precious day for a quick interview with you and the other members of the phantom troupe?” You searched your jacket pockets for the voice recorder you had but couldn’t find it. You softly groaned and took off the backpack you were carrying all your equipment and other items you had packed for the journey and began looking through the pockets.

⌯ Chrollo was very confused by your request and tilted his head a bit. “I’m sorry, did you say an interview?” You looked up at him and nodded with a small smile before looking back down to continue searching through your bag. “Do you know how many people would read my blog if I have an inside scoup with THE Phantom Troupe, who wouldn’t want to read that?!” You sounded excited but he was still lost. Interview with the Spiders? Were you being serious?

⌯ You found your voice recorder and your eyes lid up, you grabbed it and closed up your backpack, swinging it over your shoulder as you straighten your back. Chrollo looked into your eyes and he couldn’t see not a hint of fear or axienty in your actions anymore. He was still token aback and shook his head slightly, trying to grasp the situation at hand. No one has ever asked for an interview with them and frankly for good reason. Look at all the mayhem he had caused over the years, you must’ve been too stupid to take that into consideration or very brave to still follow him then ask for an interview knowing who he was and what he did.

⌯ Even so, he was fascinated.. intrigued by you, but he didn’t know if it was because of your stupidity or your bravery. “How did you find me?” He asked, taking a step closer to you but in a non-threatening way. You then laughed like you were about to tell the world’s funniest joke. “Well it’s obviously simple, the Underground Aution in Yorknew. A place where the underworld mafias bring their most valuables possessions and bid millions. Most of the time these items are appealing to the eye, the only kind in the world, or super valuable and rare.”

⌯ Chrollo nodded and continued to listen to you. “Doesn’t the Phantom Troupe go after items like that, that’s like the groups thing or something— I’ll find out during the interview, right??” you asked leaning a bit forward with your thumb held up and a genuine smile in your face. Chrollo was amused by your actions but didn’t show it, he completely ignored your question and just stood there like he was waiting for you to say something else.

⌯ You sighed and stood up straight with your hand on your hip. “In past attacks, members of the troupe had been spotted in the area days before their attack, everyone’s been spotted as least once before an attack except for one person. You. So I assumed everyone had to arrive earlier than you but once you’d arrive that’s when things would begin.” Chrollo was impressed, you seemed to have done your research on them and it looked like it paid off. “I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to talk to you if I went to Yorknew instead.. so I had to catch you on your way there.” You were pretty proud of yourself for using your big brain and seeing it pay off.

⌯ “Well how did you know where I’d be?” He asked curiously since it would take some skill to track him down on his way to a destination only the troupe knew about from where he previously spend his time that very few people knew about. At this point the air in the atmosphere was light and calm, he was still on his guard but it had lessen dramatically compared to the beginning of the interaction.

⌯ “Oh my— you do ask a lot of questions. How about this.. you and the other members accepted my request for an interview then I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Deal?” You held out the hand that was in your hip so he could shake it. Chrollo liked you. You were clearly very smart but also had a attitude he could deal with, and most of all, you intrigued him to the fullest. Maybe he wouldn’t mind doing an interview for you.

⌯ He nodded and turned around, ignoring your hand gesture and began walking to the exit of the alleyway. You were confused so you just stood there not knowing what to do. Chrollo noticed and stopped walking and turned his head around. “Well, come on. I have a very busy schedule so this opportunity may never come again.” He quick turned back around when he saw you smile and walk to him. A light smile was plastered across his lips but quickly disappeared when you caught up to him and walked beside him.

⌯ Humans were very interesting beings. That’s why Chrollo had high interest in them, especially in you now that he has met you. He hoped you had more to offer and would capture his interest fully.

[hichi842]

Requested by: @fakeanimefanntnt

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Warnings⚠️: None

Word Count: 3149

S/o That Comes From a Quirkless Country

You stepped off the plane in Masutafu, Japan. A beautiful town known for the famous UA High School.

You looked around the airport, nothing seemed really out of the ordinary from what you were you used to.

No one seemed to being breathing fire or levatating in mid air, even the people looked exactly like they did back home.

“Well I guess they still do have laws restricting their quirks, huh?” You muttered to yourself. You continued to walk towards the exit of the airport.

You were pretty tense, looking at all the people around you knowing that almost every single one of them possessed some kind of supernatural power and could use it in a moments time.

You had only heard of quirks in passing. When you were young, you almost didn’t believe they were real.

Though as you grew up, it started to be discussed more and more in your life.

About how 80% of people had these abilities and how you were completely shut out from them all.

You see, the island you grew up on was one made of people who did not want to explore the extraordinary, who didn’t want to explore the world of quirks.

They all had different reasons for coming to the island. For some, quirks were against their religion, some just didn’t like the idea of quirks, others were born quirkless and came for escape from the constant torment that people would give them.

As for you, well you didn’t really have a choice to be there. You were born under parents who didn’t except what they called ‘freaks of nature’. They hated the idea of a quirkfull society and so they lived among people who felt the same as them.

Although, you didn’t have a quirk yourself, you were definitely interested in them. You just didn’t know whether you liked the idea of quirks or not.

It wasn’t that they were bad, but they could definitely be used for not so good things and if you went into a society where you were completely defenseless from those sort of things, you could loose your life within a second.

Nonetheless, you still wanted to see them, they just fascinated you from the first time you heard of them.

So you took the steps to be able to foreign exchange in a town known for strong quirks. It wasn’t much, but at least you could finally see what all the fuss was about.

Your parents were not happy with this, but you convinced them after years of begging and so now here you were, walking to the house you would be staying for the next few years.

As you walked down the street, occasionally looking down at your phone for directions, you noticed all the different buildings and places as well as the people you passed by.

Once again, you were met with nothing but what seemed normal.

‘For a place filled with super powers, you’d think there would be something a little more interesting.’ You sighed to yourself, continuing on your journey to your place.

Though after about a half hour of walking, you sorta ran into a slight inconvenience.

“Where the hell am I?”

Yup, you were completely lost. You looked at your surroundings to of course see unfamiliar buildings.

“Damn it, what purpose does a map app have if it only makes you confused!” You said under your breath as you started fidgeting with you screen, adjusting the map of your current area to see where you were.

“U-um... excuse me ma’am, do you need some help?” A stranger asked, standing in front of you.

“Ah! Yes, actually!” You looked up at the person to see a young man about your age.

He had green hair that was black at the roots, his eyes the same shade as his hair, and he’s had freckles which complimented his round shaped face.

His outfit was pretty plain. A white t-shirt that had the words ALL M on them. You guessed that was a reference to what you knew as the top hero in this place called All Might. He was also wearing cargo shorts, a pair of red shoes, and a yellow school bag strapped to his shoulders.

He was kinda... pretty... in a way. Though, you weren’t going to admit that to yourself.

“Uh...” you hesitated, realizing that you were staring at him. “I-I’m kinda new here and I’m just looking for my new place, but I got loss.” You chuckled at your own stupidity.

He told you it’s totally fine and that it could get a bit confusing navigating before asking you for the address.

You were a bit skeptical giving a random dude on the street your address, but you didn’t get a bad feeling from him and he overall seemed like a kind person, so you decided that it would be better to trust him then try to find the place yourself.

You gave him the address and he smiled. “I recognize that street name. It’s a about a twenty minute walk that way.” He pointed to your left. “Do you want me to walk you there or do you just want to go by yourself, I could give you more specific instructions?” He asked.

You considered the options. “Well if it’s not an issue, do you mind walking me their, I’m not very good with directions.” You smiled awkwardly.

He nodded his head enthusiastically and started walking while motioning you to come with him.

You immediately started to trail him, an awkward silence following you guys.

“So... what’s your name?” You attempted to start a conversation.

“Izuku Midoriya, how about you?”

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), nice to meet you Midoriya.” You smiled at him.

“Same here.” He replied. “So where are from? You said you were new here right?”

You considered whether you should tell him or not, you had done quite a bit of research on the outside of your island and so you knew a lot about people from these countries, but you weren’t sure how they felt about the people where you are from. For all you knww they could hate you.

“Um... well.” You hesitated. “Do you know about those countries where people live without quirks and such...?” You asked, hopefully seeing how he would react.

He looked at you with shocked eyes. “Wait are you from one of them?!” He shouted.

“Well... yeah, I am. Specifically Hakosaka Island.” You looked away from him in fear of his response.

“Seriously!!! That’s so cool!” You turned to him with a shocked expression, a blush coated your cheeks.

Though to your surprise, he started rummaging through his bag and brought out a notebook and pen.

“Do you have a quirk yourself? Is the technology different there? Why did you decide to live there? Have you ever seen someone use a quirk? Why did you leave? Do you have certain rules of leaving the island? Do you get to see quirks on tv or in books? What are the people like there?”

One after another, questions started leaving the boys mouth and despite you not saying a word, he had already started writing something down in his notebook.

Although it was a bit sudden and overwhelming, it wasn’t bad by any means. You were just glad he didn’t hate you or anything.

You giggled a bit. “Uh... how about we stop by my place so I could drop off my stuff. Then we could maybe go to a teashop or something and I could answer your questions.”

He noticed what he started doing and immediately blushed. “Oh my- I’m so sorry, I have a habit of doing this.” He fiddled with his pen. “Though, if you don’t mind, could we please do that. I’ve never met someone from a quirkless society.” He smiled at you.

You nodded to him as you guys continued walking while making other small talk.

Once you had gotten to your place, you insisted on Midoriya coming in, but he refused and said that he’ll just wait for you outside.

So you made your way into the house, it was your first time there and the place was pretty nice from what you can see, but you made sure not to check it out just yet since you didn’t want to keep the boy waiting.

So you sat down all the bags that you were carrying and made your way back outside.

“You ready?” You asked him as you approached him. He gave a quick ‘yes’ before you guys started to make your way down the sidewalk.

“Do you know any cafes around here?” You asked.

“Sure! There’s one a couple blocks away.” He told you and you gave him an ‘okay’ before walking along side him as he led the way.

You had only met the guy about thirty minutes ago, but for some reason you felt oddly comfortable around him, like he was an old friend

He just seemed so caring and kind, like you could easily trust him with your life. It was just a warmth that you have never felt from another person and you could tell he was incredibly special.

You snapped out of your thoughts as the two of you turned a corner that led you to the cafe.

Once you guys got in the cozy looking cafe, you both sat down at an empty table before going to order. You got your favorite drink and Midoriya just got a tea. You guys then went to sit down again.

“Anyway, what did you want to ask me?” You asked and the boy immediately started asking you multiple questions about your island and you yourself, all while simultaneously writing the information down. By the time you guys were done, it had already been an hour and a half.

“I think that’s all I have. Thank you so much, you really didn’t need to do this for me.” He bowed his head slightly.

“It’s no problem, though do you think I could ask you a few questions as well?”

“Of course.” He replied.

You grinned at the beaming male. “I guess I’ll start with, do you have a quirk?”

He nodded. “Yup! It’s pretty much a super power quirk, I can enhance my puches, kicks, or jumps.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” You beamed.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I would show you, but I can’t unless there’s an emergency of course.” He told you, you already knew this information, but there was something a bit off with it.

“Wait, what do you mean in an emergency? I thought you can’t use quirk in public at all. I mean, unless you’re a hero.” Maybe you were just over thinking it, but you needed to know this information if you were going to be living here.

Midoriya looked a little shocked about how much you knew on quirks. “Oh! Yeah, you’re right, but I’m actually a hero in training and I have my provisional license, so as long as there is an emergency, I can use my quirk freely in public.” He revealed, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward manner.

Your jaw dropped for a second. “Hero in training.” Doesn’t that mean that he goes to a hero school. Wait, but if were in Masutafu and he goes to a hero school, does that mean that he’s a student a UA High. Like the greatest hero school of all time.

You shook your head lightly, for all you know he could be going to a different school and just was visiting here.

Even so, it was pretty coincidental that you met a hero in training on your first hour here. What’s the chances of that really?

“W-woah seriously, that’s so cool! What school do you train at?” You asked him.

His face turned red by the pure admiration and curiosity in your voice. “I-I go to UA.” He replied.

“That’s incredible!!! You must be super strong then!” You smiled so wide in an innocent manner.

“Aha, t-thank you.” He was pretty much a tomato at this point with all the praise he was receiving from you.

“It’s pretty cool, though do to recent villain attacks, we actually have to live on campus.” He paused for a second, thinking about something.

“W-which reminds me that it’s almost time for curfew to end. I think I have to go. I-I mean, I still have time to drop you off at your place if you need me to.” He offered.

“Oh okay. If you don’t mind, that would be great!” You smiled.

After that, you both got up and made your way out the cafe and down the street.

You asked Midoriya a couple more questions about his school and such and he answered them happily.

Though, as you guys were approaching you house, disaster struck.

From a store that you guys just walked by, an explosion erupted from the inside. You saw people running from the burning building while screaming in fear.

You on the other hand, just stood there, completely frozen. You didn’t even notice Midoriya running into the store to help evacuate people.

You weren’t sure how to react to this, you weren’t even sure what was happening. All you could do was stare.

After a few moments, someone walked out of the store, the person was a middle aged man and floating right above his hand was a small ball of flames.

You knew this was a quirk, but actually seeing it with your own eyes was a whole other expirence and not a good one to say the least.

It was terrifying, thinking that a quirk can cause so much distruction and bring the fear out in so many people.

You noticed just how defenseless you were against these powers, how you could loose your life so easily in this world.

What were you doing here? You didn’t belong here.

The man turned to you and started making his way to where you were, a sinister grin on his face as his palm ignighted even more aggressive flames.

He started taunting you in some sort of way, but you couldn’t hear the taunts, all you could hear was your pounding heart beat and some sort of ringing in your ears.

Everything went so slow. You breaths were ragged and sweat formed on your face. You couldn’t move or say anything.

You were beyond horrorfied and as the man approached you step by step.

All you could think was how you wished you stayed home. How you wished that you never went out of your safe and secure island. How could people live like this?

“(L/n)!!!” You heard a shout from your side before seeing green sparks all around you as everything else blurred

In a seconds notice you were in Midoriya’s arms out of the villain’s sight.

“Are you okay? The Pros will be here soon so let’s get you out of here.” You heard the boy speak down at you, but you couldn’t process a words he was saying.

You just stared at him with wide eyes as a green sparks from earlier shrouded the two of you. Was this his quirk? Was that why you were moving to fast?

So many thoughts circled through your head, it was so overwhelming and you were sure what to do.

What did you get yourself into?

As soon as Midoriya saw the expression on your face, one of total fear and shock, he understood the situation.

This was your first time ever seeing a quirk and it wasn’t very pleasant experience either. No wonder you were horrified.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay (L/n).” He tried to reassure you as he started running with his quirk all the way to your home.

As soon as he made it, he set you down on the front yard of the house. You wobbled and would have fallen if Midoriya didn’t catch you.

“Woah there!” He steadied you and waited until you were in a stable condition.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes with concern.

“I-I don’t know.” You confessed.

“Everything’s okay, we’re away from the danger, can I see your keys so I could let you in?” He asked.

It took you a second to register what he said, but as soon as you did, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys. You handed them to him and he led you inside.

As soon as you got in, he sat you down on a unpacked box and went to go a glass of water for you.

You, on the other hand was finally getting out of your momentary shock and as soon Midoriya returned with water, you took it from him and gulped the entire cup down.

“I’m sorry.” You told the boy, ashamed of your actions.

He shook his head while crouching down beside you. “Don’t be, it must have been terrifying to see a quirk for the first time. Especially being used against you” You nodded to his phrase.

“But the Pro Heroes will handle it, he wasn’t a very strong villain anyways.”

“I-I just never thought I would be so weak against them. M-maybe I should go back home. I don’t think I can live here.” You stuttered realize just how scary this world is.

“I understand where you’re coming from. If you want to go back to your island, that’s all up to you and I have no right to say otherwise, but...” he hesitated before grasping your hands and looking into your eyes.

“Quirks are not just used for distruction, their is a whole other beautiful side to quirks and I think you would love it if you just explored it!” He beamed, sqeezing your hands slightly.

“So how about you stick around, you could meet my friends in school, and my teachers. We could go to all the quirk museums together and we could train together to get you stronger. Like I said, if you want to go home you can, but you could also stay here and I’ll make sure to be with you the entire time so you won’t have to worry! What do you say?” Midoriya’s eyes sparkled as he anticipated your reply.

You stared at him, all of a sudden your heart beat increased and you felt a flutter travel through you stomach as you stared into the boy’s emerald like eyes.

What was this feeling?

“I guess it wouldn’t be that bad.” Your words were shaky, but you smiled at him lightly.

He smiled as well and nodded. “Then It’s settled. How about I give you my number and we could hang out on my next off day.” He said letting, go of your hands and getting up from his crouched position.

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” You replied.

[bts-ficrecs]

Namjoon angst fic recs (no smut)

@ephyra16​​ asked: 

Hey...! Your blog is of so much help to me, thank you for all the hard work you do... I wanted to ask if you know any long Namjoon oneshots or series which mostly have angst but no smut...? Namjoon centered fics are really hard to find. Thanks!!

yes hello for some reason tumblr hates me and idk why everything gets wonky when i try to answer asks so i’m making a new post <3

1) as a jin stan i feel u. is hard to find fics for our mans but that just means when we find one we devour it and cherish it 4 ever lol

2) jsdflajsd you might have more luck asking someone else for straight up angst cause i can barely stomach angst LOL. I tried my best to find some heart breaky fics for you! :”) A majority of these I have not yet read so we will both be riding the emo train together.

As you requested, most of the oneshots are long fics, over 5k but! There are several honorable mentions under 5k are also listed cause they’re great

Thank you for your patience and I’m glad you’re enjoying the fics I reblog! :D so many great stories out there. as always, if there’s a fic that any of you readers think should be on this list lmk!! 🧡🧡 Enjoy!~

 

 

A Little Bit Of Sugar by @lthyl​​

Summary: Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself. And so he doesn’t really care if his methods of collecting pretty things end up being darker that expected, once you peek under the surface.

Almost Love by @joonary​​

Summary: You think you’ve got your life all figured out—after all, you found your soulmate already, and you’re lucky enough to have found him in your childhood best friend. You suppose that maybe, now that you’re older, your luck has begun to run out.

Better To Have Loved by @rkivenamu​​

Summary: Love, Namjoon had found, wormed its way though people, consumed them whole until it left nothing of the people they had once been. It became a weapon to be used to wound the other. Love, it seemed, was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Bloom by @hobidreams​​

Summary: Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

Note: okay, this has smut (there are 2 smut scenes) but… it is too good for me to not add to this list

Breathless by @personawife​​

Summary: Jungkook was eleven when it had begun. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening to him when he had miraculously coughed up a flower petal. He thought that maybe it had accidentally blown into his mouth with the wind, but then he realized that there were no cherry blossom trees around his house.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Catching Fire by @namjoonchronicles​​

Summary: “If you didn’t want to go, then you should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken you here.”

Cut by @chimchimsauce​​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates.

Chasing Perfection by @shuaffeine-rkive​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

Emancipated by @imagniation​​

Summary: CEO!Namjoon is a hero time and time again when your father takes the villain role.

Five Times by @lordofassgard​​

Summary: Five times you wished you never met Namjoon.

Sequel (of sorts): Part 2 - Namjoon's POV

For All the Petals by @rosaetae​​ (>5k)

Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter.

Forget Me Not by @fairyjeons​​

Summary: She fell apart that day. An all white day with crowds of adoring friends and family to see them make the most happiest decisions of their lives, to choose to be together. She chose yes. He chose different.

Ghost In The Machine by @jimlingss​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.

God of Destruction by @jimlingss​

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Jealous by @btssmutgalore​​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon remembered the day you left clearly.

Lit Me Up by @floralseokjin​​

Summary: You find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

No Goodbye by @floralseokjin​ (>5k)

Summary: Even if you’re the one who ended things, you can still feel pain. Your heartbreak is valid. Your sadness for the past is a grieving process…

Noble Gain and Loss by @jaeminlore​​ (>5k)

Summary: You are a person of nobility preparing with your tutor for your royal debut. The two of you fall into a forbidden love.

Not The One by @personawife​​ (>5k)

Summary: Maybe you should’ve realized early on then, that something was bound to go wrong. Meeting your soulmate at sixteen and living happily ever after? No one’s that lucky. But you refused to believe anything else.

Paracosm by @jimlingss​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon’s always known he was your second choice. He was a substitute for someone who wasn’t there. So when you’re on your deathbed, he intends to reconstruct your memories and remove your regrets.

Press Play by @out-of-jams​​

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

Submerged by @myfeelsinink​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the man of your dreams; or rather, from your dreams.

Suspended Soul by @justimajin​​

Summary: A silver ring, a live long promise, and an eternity of happiness. All of which, he had managed to break.

The what Ifs by @ellieljade​​ (>5k)

Summary: You would be able to handle the relationship between Namjoon and your best friend if it weren’t for all those damned “what ifs”

Wishf-oo-l by @sseudanym (>5k)

Summary: To fulfill a good man’s bad dream.

Worshipers of the Soul by @jimlingss​

Summary: The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

You’ve Got That by @mikrksmos​​

Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

 

 

Confirm Or Deny by @dinoyoongi​​

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

Deeper than Ink by @whoajeon​​

Status: discontinued series (2/?)

Summary: Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

His Deaf Stars by @jooneos​​

Status: discontinued series (1/?)

Summary: When Namjoon turned 20 he had been excited to finally find his soulmate. He hadn’t anticipated that finding them would prove to be such a long journey. Now, more than 500 years later Namjoon still hadn’t found them.

Note: ok, yes it’s discontinued and only 1 part is up but still… please read it. It’s an interesting read regardless!

Inked by @kookswife​​

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: The day Namjoon entered your life was the day you were a bit more than utterly fucked.

Monster by @wordycerty​​

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Namjoon as a vampire and you’re locked in a basement with him. For you to escape, he first needs to feed.

Noble Heart by @agustkive​​

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Unrequited love can destroy anyone, and in a society where it could literally do so, it made it difficult to want anything more. Being among the population with Hanahaki disease, you battled with doing what you loved without actually feeling it. That is, until a new florist by the name of Kim Namjoon came into your life to remind you of what it actually felt like.

Reality by @thoughtssilent​​

Status: ongoing series (11/12)

Summary: Namjoon can’t deal with himself anymore, and to make things worse, BTS is disbanding.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

Regrets by @nightbts​​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: When his eyes met yours, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the familiar brown eyes that you once used to know at the back of your hand. The very ones you’d wake up to every morning. The very ones that would gaze at you with so much affection as the words I love you spilled past his mouth during the most random moments of your day. It was him, your ex-boyfriend, the very Kim Namjoon.

Solanacea by @softjeon​​

Status: complete series (10/10)

Summary: There was something between them that neither could deny. It was like this from the first day they had met.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

The Heiress’ Son by @jimlingss​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: Love is never enough. It could never feed you, protect you, stop death from taking you. It chains you down. It compels forgiveness unconditionally. It is dangerous. While it is the most intense of feelings, love is not enough and it will never be. Love never helped anyone.

What If I Said by @thoughtssilent​​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: If no one is there for him, Namjoon won't be there for them. Or, a collection of sad stories.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

[baekhvuns]

replacement | ten lee

( masterlist here! )

word count : 5.3k

pairing : ten x reader

song suggestion : stand by me — wayv

“i can’t do this.”

“you have too! we can’t ignore the orders of the royal family,” the man huffed, watching his daughter cross her arms over her chest.

“come on baby, we have to agree. you’ll get married to the prince!” her mother strived to lift her mood up, trying to convince her to this alliance.

“have you heard how awful the prince is? he doesn’t even speak let alone to any females, i won’t marry a man like that. no matter how rich or what title he’ll give me!”

the parents sighed, knowing the reputation of the prince. since they lived in prosperity, it was only fair for their daughter to be invited as one of the to-be brides for the prince. it’s certainly an honour, a great honour to be tagged as the future queen of weyni, to stand next to the future king with dignity.

just then the trio broke into silence, wondering what they should do. they can’t reject the king’s orders, which could result in a penalty or even death. her father twitched at the thought of dying, trailing his eyes over to the person who walked in.

“where should i keep these presents that you received from madam seo?”

“just put it right there.” the mother sighed, stroking her child’s hair lovingly.

nodding the gifts were set on the table, glowing in different coloured wrapping papers from the fanciest aristocrats. just as the father's eyes set on the figure he immediately stopped her.

“i have a solution, you.” he pointed, “you’ll be the replacement of my daughter.”

your eyes widened, “me?” watching the man’s head nod furiously.

“honey, she doesn’t even know the rules or regulations of aristocracy!” her eyes raked you head to toe, “plus she isn’t even that pretty, the prince would reject her anyway.” you bit your lip, because wow women thanks.

“that’s it!” the daughter smacked her hands on her thighs, “the prince doesn’t know how i look like, she’ll be the perfect alternative for me!”

“but miss, you played with the prince when you both were younger. i simply can’t be fitted to do this, as said by your mother,” you muttered, trying to use the nicest voice you had so that you could get out of this ambush.

“he won’t remember me anyway, i want you to go and marry the prince. that’s it, final.” you looked at her, words ready to pour but the glint her mother was giving you made you shut up and look down at your shoes.

“okay.”

the weeks of preparing had made you go insane, waking up early was never a hassle for you but since the day you were told to become choa (the original chosen one) every day felt like five years.

the constant mannerisms, how to put on face art, how to stand, wander, waltz and style yourself were making you lose sleep. all your life you’ve been a maid for them, you’ve always listened to them because they provided you with a place to stay and live at.

but being chosen as the potential bride for the prince left you wanting to pack all your stuff and run away from this house. but of course, the patrols who policed this place would not hesitate to call you out in front of the family.

“use the soup spoon!” you flinched at her yell, your confused eyes wandering over at the fancy china placed in front of you. you timidly reached out for spoon on the far edge of the table, looking at her eyes turn into slits as she smacked a wooden ruler over your knuckles.

“that one!” you nibbled on your lower lip in a try to repress the pain and reached out for the cutlery.

and then here you were, dressed in a baby blue dress that clings on your silhouette. small details of pearls were attached to the bodice, you watched choa set your hair into a half up half down updo and then reaching out for the beautiful pearl pin next to you and attaching it in your hair.

“there, now you’re all ready, the carriage will be out in a few. remember what i said to you, if they find out that you aren’t me, apologize for everything ever possible. say that i have terrible face blotch that wouldn’t suit for a queen, so they sent you.” you nodded, watching her lips lift up in the tiniest smile.

she patted your shoulder, “you’ll do fine, just make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” and with that, you walked out to the carriage that stood in front of the property. your heart hammering in your chest with every step you took, the white lacy gloves turning slightly wet at the nervousness you eluded out.

the shoes you were wearing stuck right up against your feet, hurting with every step you took. you didn’t mind wearing them, they were pretty, but you preferred not to wear them because of the discomfort they give.

“miss choa welcome, i’m the prince’s most trusted man. call me lucas,” he extended his hand out to you, you looked at him before hesitantly meeting his hands, immediately he grasped your hand and shook it violently.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir lucas.” you jerked your hand away, bowing slightly just the right amount for a lady.

“i hope you don’t get tired of continuous talking but that’ll be your entire journey to the palace with me!” you smiled at his expressions, if he’s this handsome imagine how handsome the prince must be.

you stepped in the carriage with the help of lucas, leaning back on the cushioned seat you faced him, “hmm, weird? usually, parents would be crying sending their daughters but yours don’t seem to be out.”

you looked at him in panic, “ah— they’re on a trip to neyo kingdom, they won’t be back until the next day.” you brushed it off by laughing nervously as he flashed his big smile.

without a fail, lucas had managed to lighten up your mood by cracking hilarious jokes. you let out a laugh here and there at his facial expressions, “by the way ten seems intimidating, but trust me he really isn’t.”

your were a bit taken back, did he just address the by his name? he must’ve been real close to him.

“i’ve heard stories about him, are you sure?” you raised an eyebrow, recalling all the terrifying encounters people have had with him. but you never heard a rumour about him being insensitive or not adequate for a king, perhaps he’s just shy? no, that’s not what everyone said, he’s a silent and a very observant person.

he laughed loudly, “i’m a hundred and ten percent sure that those stories are fabricated! you’ll see it when we reach there if of course, you’re the chosen bride!” you swallowed the lump formed in your throat and fiddled with the hem of your dress.

hoping that lucas was right about him not killing you, but also hoping that he wouldn’t choose you at all. even if he does choose you, you’d want him to marry someone else, being a queen wasn’t on your agenda. you were nowhere near to becoming a queen, let alone stand beside the prince. you were just a maid, constructed to work for them not court them.

for what seemed like hours, you were jolted awake by lucas’s yell. “we’re here! look it’s the palace!” you shoved the curtains to the side, squinting through the sun blaring in your eyes.

in front of you was the castle of weyni, the white marble shinning against the sunshine. the huge building was ethereal, stunning to say the least. unconsciously your heart trembled against your rib cage, hands turning sweaty as the coach pulled towards the imperial entrance.

“don’t be nervous, they won’t kill you, at least everyone except maybe ten. . “ you widened your eyes, hearing him fall into fits of laughter.

“come down, milady.” you chuckled at lucas’s sudden change in etiquette, seeing him smile as he led you inside.

“this is where you’ll be living, for now, the palace has enough rooms for the whole kingdom, so you won’t have to share a room with any of the other candidates.” the two of you walked down the hall, hearing your heel click against the floor.

you nodded, ready to thank him for his niceness but unexpectedly interrupted by a random person dressed in all black walking in. “lucas come in my room right now, need some help for the war tactics—“ you felt his eyes land on you, scanning them over your body.

you at first were a bit taken aback by his facial characteristics, his piercing eyes shooting daggers at you. the sharp jaw of his, the slim nose and slightly plump lips. outfitted in an all-black, almost general like clothing. several badges hung from his pocket, you guessed he was one of the soldiers.

“and who are you? never seen you in the palace.” his voice was stern and deep, you looked at lucas who was trying to scuffle out some words from his mouth.

“i’m jung choa, one of those stupid candidates for the prince’s wife,” you spoke us mindlessly, seeing lucas’s widened eyes from your peripheral. while the man in front of you smirked.

“stupid? my lady, i think you’d like some manner classes first?” you scowled at the man’s narrowed eyes, “keep them to yourself, you might need them for the way you look at women up and down.”

lucas held back a laugh, reaching over to pat his brother’s shoulder, “that’s your defeat.” he laughed, ushering a hand over to you and motioning towards the door. you nodded and glared at the black outfitted man before walking in the room.

“she’ll be so shocked when she finds out who you are, i’m gonna tell kun about this!” he turned his back, excited to yell in the headquarters.

“nuh uh,” he reached out to grasp his shirt, “don’t tell her who i am, keep the show going.” he smirked, while lucas laughed.

***

from the way that man talked to you, you were sure he was some arrogant general who served the prince. but then you wondered, if that was his worker, then how would the prince himself be like? would he be as scary as the rotten brained man outside? you sure hope not.

lucas had knocked on the room door you were provided with, reminding you that the first ceremony of this whole alliance would be starting and to dress to impress. a sudden feeling bloomed in your stomach, would you see the prince tonight?

you glanced at yourself in the mirror, “who am i kidding, i’m just a replacement. the worst that could happen to me is that I’d get banished.” you sighed, perhaps wanting to be banished so that you could go back to where you came from and hopefully find what yearned for so long.

exiting the room you came face to face with the sane black outfitted man, you scowled immediately watching him smirk in amusement. he lifted his finger, twirling it back and forth. you stood there looking at his face, watching him sigh and drop his hand back.

“you’re really dumb aren’t you?” he said, “you’re already late for the meeting, you do know that the prince doesn’t like tardy people?” he crossed his arms and leaned on the wall, cocking his left eyebrow at you.

you let out a scoff. “look mister, I really don’t want to argue with you right now, so please step aside so that i won’t get hated by the prince.” you moved passed him, hearing him let out a chuckle.

“i’m pretty sure he already dislikes you,” he watched as the girl walked away from him.

***

as soon as you entered the room, you saw multiple women standing in their groups. many of them already conversing with one another while you stood to the side, trying not to associate with them because what if they catch onto your act? you’d be dead meat if they catch onto the tiniest flaw of yours, women are definitely more vigilant. you’d be caught in no time.

“please gather around young ladies, we’ll start with the first stage of finding our future potential queen.” the crowd around you seemed to have been excited by the number of squeals that left their mouths.

“how about we start with our very favourite, waltz.” you bit on your lower lip, the waltz was definitely not your cup of tea. unless stepping on others' shoes just like you had done to the real choa, you’d be disqualified in the first round.

“please select your partners that are standing on the blue line, you’ll be assessed on your posture and how gracefully you dance.” you looked over at the men standing on the blue line, others had already started to stand in front of them so you made your way towards them quickly.

but to your dismay, it looked as if everyone had a companion, except you. the spokesman seemed to have noticed that and assured you to stand on the side until one of the men comes in, you nodded with a smile and stood by the corner watching everyone start to mingle.

you tapped your shoe on the floor along with the beat of the music, sighing you leaned backwards, “i’ll be out quicker than possible,” you looked out the window. “perhaps then i can finally go where i’ve been wanting too.” you mumbled.

“where do you want to go?” you jumped back at the sudden voice that arose from behind you, you spun on your heels to see the same man outfitted in black clothes near to your face.

taking a step back you sighed, “none of your business.” he nodded and leaned on the wall beside you. you scooted as far away from him as you could, “aren’t you going to dance, miss candidate?”

you rolled your eyes and pointed at the lack of partners, “i’ll just have to wait for someone to come in and dance with me.” hearing a hum escape his lips you faced him.

“what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be the prince or what not?” you inquired, for someone who bumps into you consistently you’d wonder if he actually does anything.

“well it’s my home too, i can do whatever i want.” you scoffed and crossed your arms.

“your highn—“

“yes! what would you like?” you looked at the spokesman and the blond, watching the two in confusion before speaking up.

“um, there isn’t enough partners, so i’d like to sign of—“

“i’ll dance with you.” you shot your eyes up at the blond, “you what?” he merely shrugged before taking your wrist and pulling you to the floor, draping his arm around your waist and jerking you closer.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you looked around at the expression of the others, some gaping or some whispering. while your heart took a speed of a motorcycle engine.

“dancing.” you grit you teeth at the man before hearing him yelp, “sorry, i’m not exactly the best at this.” you looked down at the print of sole on his black shiny shoe.

“why are they all looking at you like you’re a well-known person or something?” you looked around to meet the eyes of the spokesman who gave you a sly smile.

“let’s just say, i’m fairly very loved.” you rolled your eyes, seeing him smile slightly before twirling you.

after a few more conversations of the blond being an absolute delusional ignorant man, you were finally free from him and his hands that were constantly positioned on your waist. the evaluation tallies were taped on a wall, the slinky white sheet of paper trying to hold on to its best.

you squinted you’re eyes to make out the names that were on the loose-leaf, roaming your eyes up and down to find your name on it. you internally grunted, “great, i’m stuck for another one of this crap.”

you walked outside the room instantly being hit by the cool air that swirled through your hair, you smiled and looked around. “thank god i survived, god knows what happens to those who don’t make it.”

you looked at the two girls walking out to the porch, “what happens to the girls who don’t make it?” you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your instinct told you to go and hide behind the tall wooden stump.

“i heard they go to the some manners classes, held by madame choi.” you shuddered at the name, everyone knew who she was. the infamous teacher in weyni, so strict that if you breathe the wrong way, you’re automatically considered dead.

you thanked the god that you made it, you made a praying gesture to the sky before you ur eyes caught the blond-haired man’s back. you bit your lower lip if it weren’t for him to waltz in at the last minute. you would have been shipped away to madame choi’s wrath, so you started taking slow steps towards the man.

forgetting how he treated you, you were, in fact, very grateful for his actions. you needed to thank him for saving your ass last minute, “hey!” you yelled at the man, jogging towards him.

“hey! blondie!” the man spun on his heels to see you running down the hallways like a damsel in distress, a smirk adorning his lips and tilted his head in amusement.

you halted to catch your breath, hands on your knees as you inhaled and exhaled. “you. . . thank you, for saving me back there.” you tucked the wisps of your hair at the back of your ear, his eyes trailed over your face.

“no sweat, ms. candidate.” he smiled and turned around but you stopped him just in time.

“wait! aren’t you going to tell me your name? or do you want to be called as a blondie?” you looked at his back, he turned to look right a smile never leaving his face.

“lee, call me lee.”

it had been around a week since you came here, surprisingly not being caught at all. but to your fathom, you had been seeing lee almost every day. sometimes him being outside your room, or at the evaluation, chambers standing next to the spokesman, or even how he had joined you on a walk.

“why would they name you lee? isn’t that a weird name?” you asked, wriggling your feet that hovered above the ground.

he laughed, “isn’t it a cool warrior name?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“you sound more like the town shoemaker rather than a warrior.” you looked at him and tsked, he looked at you, scrunching his nose a tiny bit. cute

“don’t tell me you don’t know what a shoemaker is.” you dropped your jaw when he looked at you with a blank expression.

“i know what a shoemaker is, but. . “ you furrow your eyebrows.

“but, what?”

“i’ve never been to the town.” your mouth hung open, “y-you’ve never been to the town?” you clarified.

“i don’t have that much freedom when it comes to this, you know being stuck here and doing roy— war duties and all.” you nodded, overlooking at the sun setting on the horizon.

“let’s go.” he turned his face to you, “what?”

you hopped of the ledge, “let’s go, i’m taking you to the town.”

***

“here! they sell the best bread in weyni, do you wanna try some?” you reached over to pick the hot loaf of bread and shove it in lee’s hands.

he flinched at the hotness and chucked the bread at you, you gasped but caught the food before it hit the ground. you slapped his shoulder, “what do you think you’re doing? this stuffs expensive!”

“yea, but you can afford it!” he retorted and you paused in your stance, “it’s not easy too.” you mumbled underneath your breath.

he seemed to have barely caught onto that but shrugged anyway and yanked your wrist that held the piece of bread and shoved the bread in his mouth, “oh my god, this is heaven.” you looked at him, ignoring the blush coating your cheeks.

“told you,” you said before taking a bite, feeling his eyes on you.

“you know i’ve been paying for everything, i thought you were a gentleman,” you spoke, now the two of you walking down the night streets.

he chuckled, “when you find out who i am, you’ll get everything for free.” you shot him a quizzical look, hearing him clear his throat, “i mean when you marry the prince. you won’t be paying a single penny.”

you scoffed, “if i do, the prince seems like a stuck up, putting his wealth on me won’t make me happier.”

“you think the prince is a stuck up?” he inquired and you nodded.

“hm, that’s what everyone says. that he’s the brooding and dark prince, super observant and time conscious.” you dramatized as he fell into fits of laughter.

“what if the prince is good looking?” you said and he smirked, “i work with the prince, he’s breathtakingly handsome, girls just drool over him.” you chuckled dryly, sharing a bit of silence.

“the other day, when you said you wanted to go somewhere. . where did you want to go?” he looked at your side profile, eyes falling over your face.

“hmm, i wanted to go to the neyo kingdom. there’s someone i desperately want to meet.” he nodded but couldn’t help but feel the tugging at his heart.

you weren’t lying, these days made you feel more nostalgic. if you ended up winning this whole competition to become the wife of the prince, you’d need your family beside you to have your back as you walked down the aisle.

you looked at lee, grabbing the chance to acknowledge his facial characteristics. seeing the way his blond hair falls over his eyes, his sharp jawline to the bridge of his nose. his pinky lips and dark eyes that sent a foreign feeling in your stomach.

maybe if you weren’t forced in this, you could have tried to make a move on lee. because look at him, he’s just so attractive! yea, his personality is very snobby and self-absorbed but you could work with that.

“what if i win this?” you asked, looking at his face.

“you’ll be married to the prince, future queen of weyni.” you sighed running a hand through your hair and glimpsing at the perimeter.

“i—i don’t want this. . “ he whipped his head at you, “what?” the drumming of his heart increasing.

“i’m not who you think i am.” you shut your eyes, nibbling on your lower lip. “promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.” you looked at his anxious eyes.

extending your pinky finger at him and watching him gradually connect with yours, “i won’t.” you smiled, maybe this was the time to come clean. by any chance, if you did end up winning this (as you kept on passing the classes) you’re not sure how you’ll handle it.

“i’m not choa,” you spoke. “my name isn’t choa, but instead y/n. i’m just a mere maid who worked for the jung’s, i—i was forced into this because choa didn’t want to marry the prince.”

you watched his expression turn darker and you panicked, “i’m sorry about this whole thing but i couldn’t do anything about it, it was either to accept this or get forced.”

taking in a sharp breathe you continued, “i thought that maybe if i fail this whole competition thing, i’d be free and run away to neyo. that’s why the day you walked in, i wasn’t in the best mood because i could finally leave and get away from this place.”

you heard him inhale sharply, “please don’t think of like i’m bad, i was put in such a situation tha— lee!” you watched him leap off the ledge and start striding the other way.

“lee! please i’m sorry!” you cried out in frustration, watching his body slowly get farther and farther away. you raised your hands to rub over your face, “great, i lost the only friend i ever had.” the crack in your voice was the final threshold as tears poured out.

***

you stood motionlessly in a line next to three other women, you had somehow with luck made it to the top four. the last two weeks went by a blur, you didn’t see lee anymore. not even lucas, your everyday routine only consisted of the competition, food and sleep.

you had seen lee the day after you told him everything, you chased him down but he wouldn’t even spare a glance at you.

but instead you kind of deserved this, you hid such a big part of your identity. the restless feeling in your stomach would increase every day because what if he told everyone about who you were, you aren’t sure if you’re glad or not but he hasn’t told anyone.

or that’s what you think, you’ve never missed being at the jung mansion so much as the past weeks. you just wanted to leave everything and disappear, heck you even tried too but failed as someone caught you.

you snapped away from your thoughts when you heard the pope speak, “today is the last day, you’ll be meeting the prince as he’ll make his final decisions. may the odds forever be in your favour.” you sit down on the white wooden chair next to the other two while one of them strode inside.

you placed your hands on your lap, eyes never leaving the small ring decorating your index finger. you sighed, eyes trailing to the girl next to you. her dress was way more bright and beautiful than yours, you didn’t really care, you hoped she’d get chosen and become the spouse of prince ten and rule the kingdom fairly.

the door squeaked open and you saw a girl walk out, dread filling her eyes as she exited. you gulped watching the next one go in through the white door, your heart thumped against your rib cage. hands trembling slightly as you thought about every single outcome that could ensue.

you made your mind to tell the prince who you actually were, you couldn’t care less about the punishment or going to madame choi’s mannerism lessons. you wanted to tell him the truth, you couldn’t possibly marry him because— because you fell for lee, the stupid arrogant general who made your life miserable the first two weeks.

you didn’t even know how you came up with that, but you were sure you liked lee. you couldn’t possibly deny your attraction towards him and wed the prince. how could you marry someone who you don’t love?

“miss choa? please come in, the prince is waiting.” you hesitantly stood and nodded to the man who stood there opening the door for you. you gave him a small smile of appreciation and footed inside the room.

you stopped when the door closed, taking a deep breath you looked around the room. adorned in pure white marble, the high ceilings made you dizzy as you walked forward towards the body sitting facing the front.

prince ten definitely had a presence, although his body faced the other way you could feel his aura pour through. you furrowed your eyebrows slightly when you saw a familiar blond coloured hair, instantly reminded you of lee. but you brushed it and walked behind the prince,

“it’s nice to meet you, your majesty.” you stopped in front of him, but your eyes widened at what you saw— who you saw.

“lee?” you spoke lowly, his head lifts up to meet your eyes. your jaw dropped at him, what was he doing here? doesn’t he work for the p— oh my god, he’s the prince?

your eyes toured over his whole body, the black tux somehow looking even more expensive than how you’d seen him in. the white shirt inside clearly clung on to his body, the badges and chains that dangled from his pocket glistened.

“you’re prince t-ten?” you gaped, “why didn’t you tell me? why-y did you hide it?” you bombarded him with questions but he sat still, and then it finally hit you.

you hid your identity from him too, you shut your eyes and inhaled sharply. automatically your feet took you outside the room, you ignored the class from the guard and made your way towards the room you were given.

you hastily packed all your clothes, hands shaking in a rush as you flung your clothes in the bag— not caring about the way they were placed, you picked up the luggage and walked out.

since you walked around the castle grounds often with le—prince ten, he had shown you some hidden places. you laughed dryly, “never thought i’d be using them.” you brushed past the vines that drooped over you, seeing the bright light of the other side you smiled.

this was it, you’ll officially escape this. leave the life you had here so you could go visit your family in neyo, as soon as you stepped forward you were immediately yanked back onto a hard chest.

you squealed in surprise and looked up to see ten? “what are you doing?” you asked, his hand gripping on your wrist loosely. “leave my wrist, i could be punished for touching the prince.”

you heard him sigh, “i’m sorry,” you stared at your shoes.

“i didn’t tell you because you treated the way no one has ever done, the snarky remark you made you first saw me.” he laughed, “i didn’t want you to change and be that feared women, so i wanted to see you— see you become more comfortable around me,”

“i wo—“

“but if i told you who i was, you wouldn’t have dared to look at me.” you smiled, finding it funny that you wouldn’t be able to throw your sarcasm at him if he told you he was the prince.

the two of you stood in silence before you decided to speak up, "it’s alright,” you lifted your head, “we both hid our identities for different reasons. i think we’ve owned up to that.” you tapped his chest, escaping his hold on your wrist.

“but i’d have to go,” you raised your eyes to meet his.

“i didn’t exactly make it though the examination of yours. so it only makes sense that i leave, i hope the next time i see you, you’d have your wife standing beside you.” you smiled bitterly, clasping on your bag strap tighter before turning back to walk away.

“how would she stand beside me when she’s leaving me?” you stopped dead in your tracks, hearing him step towards you, so close that your back comes in contact with his chest. your heart picking up the velocity when you felt his breath linger down your neck.

you looked to the side, “what do you mean?” he smirked placing his hands on your waist and spun you around.

“won’t you marry me?” you met his eyes, smiling slightly at the tinge of playfulness I’m his voice. you looked at him in shock, mouth hanging low enough to hit the floor.

“nope.”

he pulled you away and slammed you against the wall behind, “what? why?”

“i like someone else.” you bit your lower lip, biting back the smile.

“who is it? is it someone in neyo? haw i knew it, i’ll kill him right now!” you burst out laughing, his eyes staring at you in confusion.

“why are you laughing? you’re leaving the prince of weyni to marry a random dude?” you tucked a stray piece of hair behind you ear.

“no, in fact he lives here, in the palace.” he tapped your chin for you to continue on.

“as a snobby man who always dresses in a black and has pride that’s bigger than the solar system, sound familiar?” you tilted your head to the side, his face lit in a smile and pulled you into his embrace.

you squealed in surprise when he nuzzled in your neck, “god, you’re going to be the death of me.”

[moon-riverandme]

And in the Beginning There was... Light, Film Rolls, and Controversy.

Watching old movies has always been one of my favorite pastimes. I love the cracks in the film, the oddly tinted placements of color, the quick, scattered movements of the actors, and the slice of an intertitle. It all just makes sense when I think of those first filmmakers who were trying to make sense of their new medium. In my journey through film, I will start at the beginning. Well, sort of the beginning. Our main topic of discussion takes place in 1903. So we’ve skipped over a few years… 15 to be exact. I’ll sum them up now because if I miss a beat I’ll ruin the scene.

Let's start in October of 1888 when Louis Le Prince has just recorded the very first film. It’s short yet scenic; his family gathers in a garden and for the first time ever - they move. A man walks across the screen, the rigid bustles and day dress of two women sway as they turn away from the camera - ergo we have a moving image years before Edison would invent the kinetoscope. Of course, most don’t know of Le Prince and in school I never heard his name mentioned. In fact, I only heard of him through a Buzzfeed Unsolved video. So what happened? Why did history remember the names Edison and Lumière but not Le Prince?

There were many entries in the race to create the first film. And of course, there are arguments as to what cinema is in comparison to a bunch of still photographs played one after another. Strange, I think is this argument. For film is a series of stills or frames played one right after the other. Nevertheless, in 1878, we have the famous images of a galloping horse caught by twelve cameras set up by Muybridge to capture motion and to study animal locomotion. Motion but not a movie. What we needed was a camera that had a single lens capable of capturing a point of view. That’s what Le Prince did. Unfortunately, as history would see it, he mysteriously disappeared on a train to Paris in September 1890 right before his first public screening in New York carrying luggage that contained all of his work. Neither Le Prince or the luggage has ever been found. Quite the coincidence.

There are a few theories: Le Prince committing suicide, Le Prince’s own brother killing him, Le Prince fleeing due to his sexuality being outed but none have stuck... except one. Le Prince’s widow, Lizzie, believed Edison, his biggest competitor in the race, had him assassinated. The evidence? The discovery of Edison’s journal containing the following entry, which has been proven authentic. It read:

“Eric called me today from Dijon. It has been done. Prince is no more. This is good news but I flinched when he told me. Murder is not my thing. I'm an inventor and my inventions for moving images can now move forward.”

Take of that what you will.

Today, we are taught that Edison’s kinetoscope launched the novel medium of moving pictures into our familiar. When it was invented in 1891 by Edison and Dickson, the kinetoscope was a peepshow-like device with a "sight opening" on top that one viewer at a time could look into and watch a moving picture. Think about it like looking into a microscope - very different from how we view films now both in method and price, it was 50 cents for access to all films at a given venue.

In 1897, an improvement on Edison's device arose. Invented by the Lumière brothers, the cinematograph contained both a camera, projector, and hand crank. Now, audiences could sit and screen films. I'll circle back to Edison as he connects to our 1903 topic. But first, let's take a stop with the Lumière brothers.

Auguste and Louis Lumière are credited as the first filmmakers. Their documentary-esque films Workers Leaving The Lumière Factory and Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat are milestones in cinema. Known as travelogues or actualités, they showed the casual and working life of people in the mid to late 1890's. These shorts were even screened to audiences who jumped out of their seats at a train onscreen because they thought it would actually hit them. The Lumière Brothers took their screening all over the world, from Paris, to India, and China.

Watching these films, it's hard not to put yourself in the shoes of a passerby, a random person whose name we don't know, who exists in a few frames before disappearing to time. Like a fossil, it's interesting to examine what life was like back then. I love seeing the clothing. Everyone is so formal, at least compared to the laid back air of today. Even so, in the 1890’s people were moving away from the Victorian Era and into the “New Woman” Era. High necklines and longer sleeves were replaced by the open neck and short sleeves as morning turned to dusk. High chiffons under feathered hats were popular as was the shirtwaist style for work. All of these visible in the Lumière films.

Where we jump from reportage to fiction is where we jump from Lumière to Porter. And back to Edison, who had Porter working for him. Projectionist and electrician turned director, Edwin S. Porter was the brains behind many of the mechanics and techniques that have become so highly engrained in the making of films that the idea of them being novel seems almost impossible. In 1899, Porter became head of moving picture production at the Edison Manufacturing Company and throughout his career, which spanned about 15 years, he made more than 70 short films. So lets look at a few of them in detail.

Jack and the Beanstalk (1902)

You'll see that a lot of the narrative ideas for these early films spun directly out of fairytales. For an audience, fairytales were a familiarity. Thus, they were able to stitch together what they already knew about the characters and stories and better understand these new moving pictures. And Porter knew this from his work as a projectionist. He knew what engaged the audience most. And that wasn't just story, it was technique. Porter's films were revolutionary for what would become known as editing, at that time just cutting film. Simplistic and impactful, he knew how to compact time and create magic. Objects and people appear and disappear in a single cut. The camera remains still, a wide shot, and on a tripod but what's in front of it changes slightly, making for magical realism. For example, once Jack makes it back down to earth after descending the beanstalk, he grabs an ax and starts chopping it down. He's got to do this or the giant chasing him will make it down too. So he swings the ax a few times with all his might. From a large beanstalk, ripe with leaves, reaching up to the sky, we immediately cut to a destroyed one. The fact that we end one cut with Jack in the same position as we start the next, keeps from disrupting the audience even though everything else onscreen has changed. We've condensed time, Jack has saved the day, and the Giant has fallen to his death. Porter would expand on this editing style, perfecting it, discovering cross-cutting.

Life of an American Fireman (1903)

Cross-cutting or parallel action is so integral to editing that it happens in just about every film. Simply, two separate events are occurring - say, a woman trying to escape a fire inside of her house and firefighters rushing in a horse carriage to save her. These two events, perceived to be happening at the same time, are stitched together through editing so that the audience experiences both. Cut to the woman in her house as the fire inches closer to her. Cut to the firefighters rushing up the stairs. Will they get there? Will they save her? Cross-cutting serves to create tension and set the rhythm of a scene. Eventually, the two spatial points of view merge and the conflict should be resolved. This originates in Porter's films and Life of An American Fireman is the first one that shows it off.

Let's cut back to the first shot of this film, it's a trick shot. A sleepy fireman dreams of a mother putting her daughter to bed. Abruptly, the fire alarm is set off and he wakes up. Instead of cutting from the fireman dozing off in his chair to a separate shot of the mother, which would create confusion on whether the fireman was dreaming, Porter uses double exposure to frame the dream above the fireman shoulder. Double exposure had been employed by photographers since the 1860's to produce dreamy situations in otherwise ordinary places but in film, it first appears in Georges Méliès Four Heads are Better Than One. When we see the house aflame for the first time in Life of an American Fireman, the same mother and daughter from the dream pair reappear. The fireman's premonition connects back to the main drama of the story.

The Great Train Robbery (1903)

In this film we take the leap from a theatrical approach to cinematography, where the camera simply watches the action at a long-shot or observing eye, to being involved in the action. One way that Porter does this is by integrating the pan.

Panning is a technique that moves a camera side to side in a fixed location. We haven't taken the camera off of a tripod or stepped forward in anyway, we are simply turning left or right on the horizontal axis. If we took a step forward and followed a character or action we'd have a tracking shot. But we aren't there yet so plant your feet in the ground for now. Porter uses pans to reveal. The first pan is executed about six minutes into the film. The robbers jump off the caboose with their stolen goods and make a run for it. But where are they going? Queue the pan and we find out it's down some steep hills and into a forest. The subsequent shot is them in the thicket of a forest. Running passed the camera until all but one have exited camera left. But how will they get out? Queue the second pan to reveal horses - their getaway plan. This pan is masterfully done. I love the way Porter keeps his camera static and just observes the tumbling, running robbers until only one is left onscreen. Then and only then does he pan left to reveal the horses. By leaving only one person onscreen, not only does the audience have less to track but so does the camera. Simplifying the frame down to only the necessities of the action, one robber running away in a forest, amplifies the pan and makes the reveal feel complete - we reunite with the group of robbers and horses.

Depending on which version of the film you watch, you might be surprised by waves of color among a sea of black and white. Tinting whole films blue, amber, or sepia has been around since the origins of moving pictures, but in The Great Train Robbery, Porter selects specific actions or objects to tint. This was all done by hand.

Color is one big manipulator. Think of light blue and you'll likely picture endless summer skies; an air of calm. How about Green? I picture the tangled tree webs of a jungle - adventure, growth, the smell of dew on fresh leaves, nature. Now red. Explosions, fire, burst of emotion. Yellow? A bright, morning sun, a blooming sunflower, happiness, positivity, a new start. Early filmmakers used color to bring attention to specific objects, people, and actions. They used it to draw out an emotion from the viewer. They used it to connect themes of violence, love, and happiness. And they used it to spice up their frame.

Porter hand paints the explosion of a train lockbox bright orange and a deep red. The smokey pops from gunshots are also a fiery red. The dress of a dancing woman is bright yellow. The coat of another girl is a rich purple. The addition of color cultivates realism but also gives the film a flair of the imaginary.

So, we have the creative process of tinting to enhance the visual characteristics of a story and we have panning to push forward the important aspects of a narrative. Let's add a few more ingredients to our recipe.

Because the story cuts back and forth between the robbers, the operator, and the posse of men who will eventually hunt down the robbers, it has parallel action. Three separate storylines, integrated through the edit, that coverage at the end. Now that we have the way in which the story is cut and delivered, how about some specific effects?

In shots where the action occurs inside the prop train, which is not moving but the audience is meant to believe it is, Porter uses double exposure to ground his location in reality. He filmed exterior, moving shots and layered them onto the static train shots. In the '30s this would become known as "rear projection".

Additionally, Porter creatively placed his camera in new ways to produce frames that diverged from the typical wide shot; bringing the viewer closer into the action. For example, at about 2 minutes and 50 seconds in, the camera is propped on top of the engine car roof while a sneaking robber crawls passed and kills a fireman.

At last we arrive at the final shot. Diverging from the narrative, Porter set this up to look like a wanted poster. It is filmed in a medium close-up, which serves to focus all attention on the subject by filming them waist-up, having them fill up most of the frame, and blocking out the surrounding environment. The robber points his revolver right at the camera and shoots six times. If you've ever seen Goodfellas, Martin Scorsese recreates this at the end with Joe Pesci. Seemingly, the purpose was to shoot the audience. To tell them even though all of these robbers were killed in the end, their spirit doesn't die. It says "I'm warning you- it's still dangerous out there." Funny enough, this wasn't even the original intention. The shot was promotional and where it ended up in the film was entirely up to the projectionist. It could've just as well been placed at the beginning if they wanted. Even so, the break in the fourth wall and punch of dramatics that ended the film still prevail through cinema history today. Completing the recipe for one the first Westerns, ripe with shootouts, chase sequences, bandits, and suspense.

The Kleptomaniac (1905)

When moving pictures are void of sound and spoken dialogue it's a bit difficult to understand what characters are doing onscreen. Heightened emotional and physicalized acting made up for this. Through facial expressions and over the top, exaggerated body movements, audiences could connect the dots to figure out what was going on in a scene. But in 1903, Porter directed Uncle Tom's Cabin and introduced intertitles, words that would appear printed onscreen. Early iterations of intertitles read like book chapters. They described the main action that was about to take place in the scene. In Uncle Tom's Cabin some examples include: "The Escape of Eliza", "Rescue of Eva", and "Tom and Eva in the Garden. In The Kleptomaniac, intertitles state location and give context to where we are, which is helpful because without them, I don't think I could follow what was going on - at all.

Location is such a main element in this film that intertitles are practically non negotiable. "Leaving Home", "Arriving at the Store", "Home of Thief", and "Court Room Scene", prepare us with the information that is necessary to fully understand the purpose of each scene. The department store shot isn't clear-cut. It could've been a mail room or an office. If we miss that it's a department store that our main character is visiting (and stealing from), we miss the connection to the thief stealing food later on in the film and thus miss the whole theme of class disparities. The intertitles supplement for lack of onscreen information and sound. They would be used regularly in the silent era, branching into dialogue intertitles and expositionary intertitles before dying out with the advent of sound.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 1

A/N: It’s finally here! The first chapter of my second Harry Styles fic! We’re starting off with a LOOOONG, heavy one. I want to thank you all for patiently waiting. Most of the characters in this story is based off of some of YOU! Zoey, Nancy, Aurora, Andy, and Katie - Thanks for reading and being apart of this story. I’m sorry if I didn’t get your personalities right, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I’ll be posting every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday! Enjoy. 

<3 Shannon

To Read My Previous Story, Click Here

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CHAPTER ONE

Never in a million years did Zoey think she’d move across the country on her own. But here she was, driving down the interstate in her dingy 2010 Toyota Camry, car filled to the brim with her belongings. LA had always been a far fetched idea. Actually, if we were being honest, it was never her idea to begin with. It was Jessica’s. Moving to LA alone was never a part of the plan. Jess should have been here. They should have been blasting music through the stereo, complaining about the shitty A/C in the car, road raging together, and dreaming about all of the things they would do when they arrived.

Instead, Zoey drove in silence, briefly passing through all of the tourist spots and monuments they had always talked about visiting along the way, pulling into walmart parking lots for bathroom breaks or cat naps, alone. The only noise disrupting the silence was the hum of the engine and the occasional whisper under her breath as she spoke, in vain, to her best friend.

Jess was a force. Anyone who had the pleasure of knowing her would say the same thing. She lit up a room. She was the outgoing one. She’d talk to anyone and everyone that passed her, striking up random conversations that only she could come up with. And her laugh was infectious. Zoey always made Jess laugh and it got them in a lot of trouble over the course of their fifteen year friendship. 

Jess always had her platinum blonde hair straight, never putting it up - something Zoey always did out of habit, rarely letting her hair down because she didn’t like how it looked. Jess always had a knack for the dramatics, which is why she wanted to move to LA since she was little. She had dreamed of becoming an actress. Zoey saw her in every high school and college play. And she was good. Really good. Honestly, she had potential to make it. But, to Zoey, all of the long talks of moving to LA was just that: talk. She could never let go of the comfort of being close to family in her small, Pennsylvania town with her best friend and boyfriend. Besides, how could they even afford it?

But all of that changed on June 9th of last year. It was Jess’ 26th birthday and the two girls went out to celebrate with a few friends at the bar they worked at together. Zoey and Jess were the last to leave and had drunk a little more than they intended, so they had Zoey’s boyfriend, Michael, pick them up. Not even 3 minutes into the car journey it happened. A drunk driver ran a red light and had rammed into the rear passenger side door at 50 mph. The car flipped and Zoey hit her head against the window, sending her unconscious. 

She woke up in the hospital the next afternoon with a broken wrist, a few fractured ribs, and a concussion, surrounded by her parents who were crying, her little sister, Katie, who sat timidly in the corner of the room, and Michael who only had a few scrapes and cuts, but was ultimately fine, squeezing her leg that was tucked under the heavy white blanket. When her eyes fluttered open, her mom gasped and both of her parents hovered over her, her dad stroking her cheek. The first thing Zoey managed to croak out was, ‘Where’s Jess?’. Her mom lost it, uncontrollably sobbing. It was her dad that had to break the news to her. Jess didn’t make it.

It’s weird. You’d think hearing the news of your best friend’s death would send you into a fit of rage or hysterics, but that didn’t happen for Zoey. She felt numb. It could have been the shock, but it didn’t feel real. Jess couldn’t have been gone. She was here only hours ago, laughing her infections laugh and smiling her gorgeous smile. And even so, when Jess’ parents came to visit her at the hospital to discuss the funeral, it still hadn’t set in. She wanted to laugh at them to stop being so dramatic. That everything was fine. That Jess was still here, she was just sleeping. She couldn’t just be gone. Not Jess. She was too full of life to just be gone. But the bags under their eyes told a different story. They had lost their only child. How do you recover from that?

Zoey was stuck in the hospital for a little over a week, causing her to miss her best friend's funeral, which didn’t help in her denial. The day she was released, her boyfriend picked her up from the hospital and drove her to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis’ house. The walk up to the front door felt different. Over the past fifteen years, Zoey never knocked on the front food or rang the doorbell, she just walked in. She wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate now. Unsure, she knocked, hesitated, and cracked the door open where she was met by the exhausted couple who gave her a warm hug and led the two towards the back, past the pool where she had so many fond memories of laughter with Jess, the glistening water seeming so inviting on this warm afternoon, towards the pool house where Jess stayed.

Some had questioned why Jess still lived with her parents if she was 25 and worked a well paying job. But, to put it lightly, Jess’ family was very well-off. Her dad had built and owned a business from the ground up and it became a major success practically overnight. She had her own space, rent free. Besides, the pool house was big enough to fit three of Zoey and Michael’s apartment into it. Why would she not stay there?

But when they walked in, it hit her. Everything was exactly as they had left it, nothing had been moved. Except this time, the room did not feel full of life like it always had. It felt cold and empty. And Zoey broke down.

She felt stupid for crying in front of Jess’ parents. How could her pain feel compared to theirs? But they didn’t judge. Instead, they held her in an understanding and loving embrace. After all, Zoey had been a part of their family for fifteen years. With every sob, the pain from her still-healing ribs hurt more and more. Michael stood off to the side and let the three have their moment, and when the tears settled, they began going through some of Jess’ things, letting Zoey take whatever she wanted, which included a hoodie, a dress, a pair of converse shoes, the other half of their friendship bracelet that they had made in 10th grade, and finally a note that she had written in middle school to Zoey, stuffed with the hundreds of other notes in a shoebox under her bed.

The year that followed was tough. Zoey found herself lost for a while. She quit her job at the bar her and Jess used to work at, because working without Jess was too much for her to handle. She didn’t go out anymore, and hardly talked to anyone except for her younger sister, Katie. Growing up she didn’t really get along with Katie. It’s not like she didn’t like her, but Katie was eight years younger than her, plus Zoey was so focused on friends and boys that she didn’t make any time or effort for her younger sister. But after Jess died, Zoey got to know her sister a lot better. She learned that Katie, aside from appearance, was almost exactly like herself. Katie took after their Irish dad in the way of looks with long, dark brown hair and adorable freckles, compared to Zoey’s pale skin and dirty blonde hair. You wouldn’t think they were related by looking at them. But, in personality, they were almost identical. Both were afraid to take risks, shy at first keeping a very small group of friends, but very caring. The complete opposite of Jess who was care-free and miss positivity. Katie was essential in her grieving process.

Anytime someone brought Jess up in conversation, they always skirted around certain topics or words. They always used her name in past tense or said things like, ‘no longer with us’ or ‘passed away’. It was infuriating. One night, Zoey’s parents had invited her, Michael, and Mr. and Mrs. Lewis over for dinner nearly three months in. Her mom had brought Jess up for the fourth time in two hours and said something along the lines of ‘I’m still finding it hard to process Jess not being here anymore.’ And Zoey lost it.

“She’s dead, mom! She died! Okay?” Zoey shouted, pushing away from the table, causing her glass of wine to spill, and darting up the steps to Katie’s room that they used to share when Zoey lived there.

She collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily with tears streaming down her face, angry, when there was a faint knock on the door. Her fists clenched in annoyance, half expecting it to be her boyfriend as Michael had been extra clingy since Jess died, almost as if he was scared of what Zoey would do if she was left alone. Which was stupid. What good would it do anyone if she wasn’t here either? But to her shock and horror, it was Jess’ mom who walked into the room. 

Zoey shot up straight and wiped the tears from her face, instantly regretting the outburst she just had. “Mrs. Lewis, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Don’t,” Jess’ mom cut her off, motioning for her to sit down beside her at the edge of the bed. Her expression was warm and not at all angry, “I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of times I wanted to say that over the past three months to anyone who mentions her. I know it’s hard, and I understand.”

Zoey nodded, twisting Jess’ bracelet that was now tightly wrapped around her wrist, a strand of her dirty blonde hair had fallen out of her hair tie and she pushed it behind her ear as Jess’ mom continued, “I only came up here because I thought it’s be a good opportunity to talk to you in private before we go.”

“What about?”

“Well, Mr. Lewis and I were going through some more of Jess’ things last week and we came across a bunch of old ‘Dream Journals’ the two of you wrote in over the years.”

Zoey felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, remembering some of the things they wrote in there. The ‘Dream Journals’ were more of a fantasy bucket list than anything, but there were definitely a few inappropriate things involving Jared Padalecki and Jeremy Sumpter in there that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of Jess’ parents reading.

She continued, “Mr. Lewis and I noticed nearly every page was filled with things you two wanted to do in LA.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. Zoey cleared her throat, “Yeah. We always talked about moving there one day.”

Mrs. Lewis nodded, “I know how much she wanted to go. And I know it probably always seemed out of reach. But, Zoey, I don’t want this to stop you from going. Jess worked hard to save up so you both could go. And I don’t want that to be for nothing. Mr. Lewis and I talked about it and we decided. Jess had managed to save up $18,000, and we wanted you to have it. And we know how expensive LA can be, so we wanted to add an extra $7,000 on top of it. Hopefully that’ll be enough for rent for at least a year.”

Zoey’s mouth fell open, trying to process everything Mrs. Lewis just said. So many questions ran through her mind. How did she manage to save so much on the same salary that she had? Stupid question, she had no bills. She twisted a little too hard on the bracelet, causing it to pinch her wrist and snap her back to reality, “$25,000? To move to LA?”

“It was her dream and she never got to fulfill it. We want you to live your life and hopefully bring a little bit of our baby girl to LA with you in spirit. All that we ask in return is that you try to find peace out there.”

That was the moment of revelation for Zoey. The turning point. The moment that made her get off her ass and stop the pity party. She didn’t want to take Mr. and Mrs. Lewis’ gift for granted. So, Zoey worked her ass off. She got three jobs as a warehouse worker, waitress, and got her old bartending job back to save up even more money. She had eventually even found a room that two girls were renting out in a beautiful skyrise condo on the nicer end of LA, and had got a bartending job lined up and waiting for her when she moved. Zoey vowed to herself to start adapting some of Jess’ personality into her own. She wanted to be more outgoing and try to say ‘yes’ more often, to learn to let her hair down (figuratively speaking), and she wanted to try and be more adventurous. It wouldn’t be an overnight success, but she would try. Baby steps. 

Finally, almost a year later, it was time to move. Zoey had finished saying goodbye to her and Jess’ parents. Even Michael had come to see her off. The two of them had broken off their nearly four year relationship a couple months ago, but still remained close. Zoey could tell that he was heart broken, and so was she, but she also knew that things had changed between them after Jess died. They weren’t the same people anymore and it seemed like they were holding on to each other to force the fraction of normalcy they had left. They didn’t deserve that. They deserved to be happy, not just content, but genuinely happy. 

They gave each other a tight hug and Michael sweetly kissed her cheek, whispering her a farewell. Saying goodbye to him stung a bit more than she had anticipated. Not because of some kind of lost love, but because he was the only other person in her life who she could talk to about Jess and who would actually understand. He knew Jess in almost the same sort of capacity that Zoey knew her. Poor Michael was forced to be the third wheel so often that he saw sides of her and Jess that no one else could possibly know about. And that sense of understanding comforted her. Now that she was letting that go, it was a little harder for her to leave.

Katie stood off to the side, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, twiddling her fingers together and avoiding her older sister’s gaze. The freckle faced teenager bit the inside of her cheeks, trying to focus on anything other than Zoey leaving. As horrible as this past year has been, she knew that the bond they built would not have happened otherwise. Katie had become just as reliant on Zoey as Zoey had been on her, and for her sister to be leaving was heartbreaking. She held back her emotions, but all Katie wanted to do was cry.

A frown formed on Zoey’s face. Her sister looked like a shelter puppy who’s owner had given up on them and knots formed in her stomach. Should Zoey really be leaving now, just as things started to come together for her? But as Katie’s demeanor cracked and she embraced her sister with a loving and understanding hug, she knew that this was the right move. Zoey still had some healing to do and Katie would always be there. Jess would have wanted this for her. 

The silent journey to LA was full of self reflection and internal pep talks. Not only did Zoey want to adapt a little bit of Jess’ personality, but she knew that this move gave her the opportunity to start over and live the life she always wanted. But what was that exactly?

As she neared her destination her heart began thumping faster, nervous for this new chapter. She looked at her surroundings of the bustling city, gorgeous people on every block, recognizing some buildings from her sleuthing around Street View on Google Maps after speaking with Nancy about moving in.

She’s been talking to Nancy via text and facetime over the course of a month since they met online and made plans for her to move in. Nancy seemed like one of the coolest people she had ever talked to. Tan, with the curliest, raven toned hair, she had nine ear piercings and the most interesting eyes-one brown and the other a deep green. She styled herself more on the rocker chic side, but somehow made it look so feminine and fitting. She could be a bit intense at times, but somehow made you feel comfortable and constantly laughing. 

Zoey didn’t know much about her other roommate, Aurora, or Rory, as most people called her. She only knew that Nancy had met Rory when she first moved to LA when they were 18 and they were best friends. The two of them just recently moved to their new condo and since Rory was gone most of the week for work and they had a spare bedroom, Nancy felt more comfortable and safe if there were another roommate there so she didn’t have to live on her own.

Nancy and Aurora had an interesting dynamic because they were practically polar opposites. Rory was born and raised in both Paris and a small town in England. She was new on the modeling scene but apparently making her way up the ladder rather quickly. And from the pictures that Nancy showed her, it was no wonder why. She was beautiful, with long brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and the sweetest, freckled baby face that reminded her of her little sister.

The GPS announced that she had reached her destination as she pulled up to the parking garage of the skyrise condominium. Zoey plugged the code that Nancy had given her into the keypad to enter the parking structure and drove in, finding a spot two rows in. She took her phone off of the car charger and checked the time. 3:14 PM, Thursday, April 23rd. It took her almost 4 full days to get here and it almost felt surreal that she had finally arrived. She stepped out of the car, legs buckling a bit from being sat in one position for so long, before stretching and calling Nancy’s phone.

“Are you fuckin’ here?” Nancy’s loud voice boomed excitedly.

Zoey laughed, stifling a yawn, “Yeah. In the parking garage.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you down in the lobby. Same code as the parking structure to get in.”

The call ended and Zoey felt her nerves settling as she glanced down at her wrist adorning Jess’ friendship bracelet. Everything will be fine. She grabbed as many things as she could manage to hold, realizing she’d have to take several trips to completely unload her car, before bounding towards the door. In order to put the code in she had to set some of her bags down, and as soon as it was unlocked, she yanked the door open, scooped up the bags, and headed down a hallway towards the huge, modern lobby. The walls were light gray with twelve foot ceilings lined with abstract black and white artwork and industrial light fixtures, a huge water feature right in the center. It seemed so extravagant that she almost felt silly for wearing the same gray sweatpants, matching small t-shirt layered with a long, white cardigan and white flip flops that she had worn since she left Pennsylvania, her hair now in an insanely messy bun, and not in a cute way, desperate for a shower. She could hear her flip flops echoing throughout the room along with the chime of the elevator door reaching her level. 

Nancy stepped out, curly hair framing her face, barely any makeup on but maybe some mascara, and so naturally pretty. She wore an oversized aerosmith shirt that had been splattered in bleach and barely covered her black shorts. Nancy’s eyes widened at the sight of Zoey and she ran over, smiling.

“Hey!” Zoey giggled, hiking up a bag that was slipping down her shoulder.

Nancy gave her a careful one-armed hug so as not to knock down the tower of belongings in Zoey’s arm before grabbing two bags to lighten the load a bit as she was led towards the elevator. Nancy talked her ear off about her day so far and what she had planned for dinner tonight when they reached the twenty second floor and got out. There was a small lounge area in the center of a large landing with a single door on the other three walls, each leading to three separate units. Nancy led her to the unit on the far left - 2201. 

“Okay, so the code is pretty easy. It’s all four corners of the keypad. So 1,3,7, and 9,” Nancy punched in. A green light appeared and Nancy pushed the door open, stepping inside. “Zoey’s here!” she called out as Zoey readjusted the bag that was slipping down her shoulder again. 

She looked around as she made her way past a small bathroom and suppressed a gasp when she reached the beautiful, modern kitchen that opened up into the living room, the wall lined with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Seeing the apartment in person was a completely different experience than virtually. The pictures didn’t do it justice. How could she afford to stay here? Jess would have lost her mind if she saw this. Zoey was so distracted by the view that she almost didn’t notice the two figures on the couch until they both stood up and started making their way over.

“Zoey! It’s so nice to meet you,” a sweet voice called. Aurora’s accent was an odd mix of French and British, only adding to her appeal.

“Hello!” A soft, deep voice greeted her.

Zoey smiled kindly, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of beauty in the two. Like the apartment, Rory’s pictures did not do her justice. She was more beautiful in person, almost making her feel inferior. And as for the guy beside her, he was scruffy with tousled brown hair and dark green eyes. His perfect white teeth could be seen through his smile and his dimpled cheeks made him even more discernible. 

“I’m Harry,” he spoke.

Zoey blinked, so exhausted from the long car journey that she was unable to decide what emotion to feel and unsure of how to respond. Her arms trembled from the weight of her luggage. The trembling caused a shoe to fall out of one of the bags, making a thump on the floor. Harry let out a startled gasp and quickly bent down to grab it, “Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing the stack of bags out of Zoey’s hand, leaving her with just two on her shoulders. “Where would you like these?”

Before she could answer, Nancy spoke up, “Her room. Come on,” and led the way down another hall, Harry en suite.

Aurora smiled brightly at Zoey, “You must be exhausted,” she said, motioning for Zoey to follow the other two, “I hope the ride in was okay.”

Zoey tightened her bun and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead, glad that Aurora was being nice to her. “Yeah, lots of traffic as soon as I hit the city, though.”

Aurora laughed as they reached the doorframe, “You’ll get used to it.”

As the bedroom came into view Zoey saw Harry gently placing her things at the foot of the full sized bed. Thankfully the room was already furnished with the larger items. He huffed as he stood back up, dusting his hands together before pushing back the strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face. It was only a split second of realization. What the hell was happening? Was this just another dream? How could she be in LA, in a beautiful skyrise condo, with a gorgeous model and the coolest girl she had ever met as roommates, and Harry-fucking-Styles was standing in her bedroom? Surely she was still in her small one bedroom apartment back in Pennsylvania.

“Is this all you brought?” Harry asked, his accent snapping her back to present. 

“Oh, uh, no. I have more in my car.”

“Let me help bring your things up,” his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for an answer, but his tone was more insistent.

Zoey hesitated, still in shock from the whole situation. Thankfully Nancy spoke up again before the silence got awkward, “Yeah, let’s go.”

She led the way out of the room followed closely by Harry who smiled nicely at her before his glance shot to Aurora. Zoey was sure he had meant to be more discreet, but she could have sworn he had winked at Rory. And the coy smile on her face seemed to confirm the hunch. Zoey kicked herself for being so awkward, mentally reminding herself to channel Jess’ sociability.

The four of them made conversation while they took a few more trips from the car to the apartment until all of her luggage riddled her room and her arms felt like jello. They all sat lined up on the large, pewter sectional with Zoey on an end cushion, Nancy sat cross-legged in the corner, and Aurora and Harry on the other side, close but with safe distance between them. She found out that Harry was in the middle of a U.S. tour and had a few days break, so he flew here to hang out and would be leaving again first thing in the morning. She also found it interesting to learn how they met each other a few months ago at a charity dinner event that Aurora had attended with Nancy as he plus one. They had all been sitting at the same table together and this was only their third time seeing him in person due to his tour.

“And now I have another friend,” Harry grinned, motioning towards Zoey.

“Yeah, until you scare her away with your horrible dad jokes and eating habits,” Nancy snorted.

Everyone laughed as Harry lightly nudged Nancy’s leg with his foot, “Just because you can’t beat the master at jokes doesn’t mean they’re horrible,” he shook his head in mock disappointment before turning his attention back to her, “So what made you move out here, Zoey? Work?”

Zoey gulped, not wanting to bring up Jess. She knew if she had, she would break down and cry and they didn’t know anything about Jess yet. I mean, how would everyone feel if she blurted out, ‘my dead best friend’s parents insisted I make their daughter’s dream come true and paid for me to move here’? 

She quickly composed herself, “Change of scenery. Thought I’d try out a new time zone,” she joked, causing them to chuckle. “I’m trying to be a bit more independent and adventurous,” she admitted.

Harry noticed her hesitation and looked at Rory and Nancy to see if they noticed it, too, but they seemed to be oblivious to it. He shrugged it off. He respected her desire to be more independent; something he understood all too well. The singer listened,  impressed as she revealed how many jobs she had been working in order to save just to come here and how proud she was of herself for taking the leap and coming here. Zoey didn’t seem braggy about it, in fact she seemed humbled, crediting her family and even her ex-boyfriend for the support. It wasn’t often you met someone down to earth in LA. It could be because she was so new to it. But Harry thought she would make a great fit with Aurora and Nancy. They had been here for seven years and the Hollywood Bug hasn’t bit them yet. He had his fair share of friends on the west coast, but it was nice to be close with ones who made him feel more grounded like these two.

The four ordered postmates and continued talking and laughing over Nancy’s stories as the sun began to set, casting a beautiful orange and pink hue over the city. As soon as she was done with her chinese food Zoey quickly excused herself to call her family. Once out of sight the three friends turned to each other.

“I like her,” Aurora decided.

Nancy kicked her feet up on the couch where Zoey had been sitting, “Yeah, thank god she’s not like any of the other crazies that messaged us to live here.”

Harry smiled, looking over at Aurora who laughed and he felt a little flutter in his stomach. She was obviously beautiful and fit every characteristic of his type. He could relate to her from living in a small English town but also found her intriguing that she had also been raised in Paris and spoke fluent French - a language he was always attracted by. Aurora and Harry were clearly attracted to each other, but the timing wasn’t exactly right. They met right as Aurora’s modeling career started to take off and just before Harry left for tour. They hadn’t even been on a first date yet, or even kissed for that matter. Just shameless flirting via text. 

In an effort to make an excuse to come back again, Harry spoke up, “Well, next weekend I have off. I don’t know what Zoey’s new work schedule will be, but if she’s up for it, how about we take her to Secrets as a little welcoming party? My treat.”

Secrets was a popular bar in the area that had private rooms you could rent for karaoke. Most of the club-goers were known to be gay, though a lot of straight people went with friends if they wanted a fun clubbing experience without any unwanted nuisances. It was always a good time whenever they went.

“That’d be lovely,” Aurora grinned.

“Yeah, sounds fun! I’ll talk to her about it and find out her work schedule,” Nancy agreed.

Harry nodded, excited about another opportunity to hang out with Rory. And honestly, he was excited to get to know Zoey, too. She seemed easy to talk to. And his instincts in people were pretty good.

What do you think?! Let me know

KEEP READING

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    6/?

To read on  Ao3 click here  (if lately you had the same problem with links on Tumblr as me, try removing the https://href.li/? part from the URL)

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

DISCLAIMER: In Plato’s words. I know that I know nothing. It doesn't stop me from writing. As always this is fiction and what I write is what suits the narrative I want.

Also I feel like there are a lot of expectations about this one…not sure I met them, but this is what I got.

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For all the scenarios Katherine had thought of, her song putting a halt to the musical writing process had not been one of them. She doesn’t notice at first. Cathy’s song is the next one and she just assumes she is taking her time with it. She knows how careful the writer is when choosing her words (picky, Anne had teased her while telling them how long it took Cathy to decide on what to write on Kat’s birthday card). So it takes Kat a while to realise that Cathy never brings up the musical anymore. None of them do.

Their reactions to the song had been...strong. They have all come to care deeply about the youngest queen (and each other in general) and hearing what she went through...Rage does not do justice to what they felt...among many other feelings.

Catalina’s legs had given away beneath her halfway the first verse, a strangled noise alerting Anna, who had lunged forward and had barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground.  Then Catalina had literally used her friend’s body to support herself and climb back to her feet. Anna had not minded, the contact grounding her. Even somehow knowing what to expect, it did not make listening to it any easier. So she had stood there, an arm loosely around Catalina’s shaking frame, ready to hold her up if need be.

As Katherine concluded her song, all you could hear in the control room were muffled sobs from all the queens. Until the girl stood up.

‘Get yourself together.’ Catalina had hoarsely growled. ‘It’s not about you.’

Cathy had not been sure if she had been talking to them or to herself. If she had to be honest, she had not expected such a visceral reaction from her. From Kat’s cousins, maybe, but not from Catalina. And not because she cared less or anything like that. Anyone spending some time with them could easily tell that Catalina loved Kat. Just…in a different way compared to Anne or Jane or even herself and Anna. Almost…maternal. Which makes sense if Cathy thinks about it. Catalina had been the only one of them who got to be a mother. And Kat was the youngest queen, in the past and also now that they came back, even if not by much (Cathy herself was just a few years older). But the first queen had always strived to maintain a certain degree of composure, even around them, while Anne and Jane had been more open with their emotions. For Catalina to let go, to let them see her so raw and exposed…

As soon as Kat had stepped into the room, Catalina had engulfed her in a tight hug. When Anne had tried to step in, she had immediately recoiled at the glare she had received. But after a while, with no sign of Catalina letting Kat go any time soon, Anne had given up on waiting for her turn, and just decided to try her luck and join the hug. With no protest forthcoming, it quickly became a group hug.  

They had made sure to make crystal clear to Kat their support and willingness to listen or do anything she might need them to do. But what resulted was also an unsaid agreement among them not to bring up the topic unless Kat did it first. Which included not bringing up the musical since her song is all about that and what started everything.

Everyone took it hard, but nobody took it harder than Catalina. She knew 13-year-old Katherine. She remembers 13-year-old Katherine as if it was yesterday. To know what happened to her. Because she left her. Before, she had thought her death had indirectly led to Katherine’s marriage and consequently her death. But now…To know that as soon as she left her, everything bad started to happen to the girl she considers a daughter...The nightmares, which had petered off, come back with a vengeance.

That’s the main reason it takes a while for Kat to realise she hasn’t really thought or talked about the musical since she presented her song: all her focus and energy are on Catalina. She is back at spending her nights at her side, after arguing that she would be awake in her room anyway, so at least they can be awake together. It takes its toll on their days too. Not just because they are tired from sleepless nights. The only reason Catalina can still face Katherine is that she knows how hurt she would be if she were to go back at avoiding looking at her like when she first arrived. Catalina’s guilt is overwhelming and colours every interaction.

They are both aware of how it is affecting their relationship and decide to take remedial actions before it becomes too much and ruins it permanently: they are going to therapy.

It is not the first time the topic comes up. It had been one of the suggestions on the online forums they had looked at when Catalina had decided that it was time to start to deal with what they deemed, for the sake of brevity, ‘the Mary issue’. They had found some support groups for families of offenders. Among the advice on how to come to terms with a loved one committing terrible crimes, a common one was therapy. Except that Catalina could not exactly talk about her daughter burning people at stake for religious dissent without A) breaking the NDA she signed about not revealing her true identity to the public B) likely being considered deranged. That’s also why she never attended any group in person, limiting herself to research, reading and self-help with Katherine’s support.

But now, that is not enough, and Catalina is willing to try anything to save their relationship (and she thinks Katherine might benefit from talking about her trauma, properly…and with a professional). They decide to ask their ‘handlers’ for recommendations, taking advantage of their help as long as they can before potentially pissing them off with their musical. Considering the NDAs they had signed, it is likely in their interest that they don’t go to a random therapist and spill the beans. Indeed, they get a handful of names of approved professionals who are used to work with people not always able to fully disclose their past, or even their present (they didn’t get details, but their guess is something like witness protection or law enforcement) and thus won’t question weird gaps and omissions in patients’ histories.

They do some research and choose a practice with multiple therapists, all women, with different specialisations. The first meeting is with a senior partner who will get the laydown and decide whom, among the associates, refer them to.

‘My name is Doctor Sonya Newton, I’m going to ask you some questions to assess the issues and decide the best way to move forward, okay?’ the doctor starts after the prospective patients sit down. ‘It is important that you are as truthful and open as you can. If you don’t wish to answer, say so and we’ll move on, but please don’t lie. Lying will only, at best, undermine our efforts and at worst hurt them...or you. You are free to leave at any point, to decide that you don’t wish to continue, to look for another practice, again – I can’t stress this enough – at any point. We are here to help you, and if it’s not working for you…well, what is the point then?’

She waits for a response, and only after she gets a pair of tense nods, she moves on. ‘Now that ground rules are done. Let’s start with the basics. Can you tell me your name and your relationship with each other?’

‘My name is Katherine and I’m her-’ she hesitates.

‘Daughter. She is my daughter and I’m Catalina, her mother.’

The doctor scribbles something down. She didn’t miss the hesitation in Katherine’s answer nor the glance she sent the older woman, but neither she missed the elated look when Catalina took over and replied.

‘Who did decide to come?’ It’s the following question.

‘We both did.’ This time is Katherine who answers for both, Catalina nodding in agreement.

‘That’s good. When both parties are willing to put in the work…the first step is half the journey.’ Sonya smiles at them. ‘What are you hoping to get from these sessions?’

‘There are some...issues that are affecting our relationship and we realised we needed help to deal with them properly.’

‘That’s also good. Recognising there is a problem is the first step and doing something about it is the best second one.’ Catalina’s reply gets another approving nod from the doctor. ‘What do you think those issues are?’

They share a look, a response not coming as quickly as the previous ones.

‘Let me ask a different question. What do you hope the other will get from this?’

‘I hope she’ll realise that what happened to me was not her fault. She literally could not do anything about it. She feels guilty for stuff that was completely out of her control. I’ve never blamed her, not then, not now, and I wish she could see it.’

Sonya hums. She had not expected Katherine to take the lead. It is shaping up to be an interesting and perhaps rather unusual dynamic.

‘What about you?’

‘I know she feels guilty for me feeling guilty.’ It’s basically a self-feeding circle. Catalina feels guilty for what happened to Kat leading to nightmares and her instinctively trying to distance herself from the girl. Kat feels guilty that Catalina is suffering again from nightmares because of her, despite it not being her fault, and she is hurt because of the distancing. Which leads Catalina to feel even more guilty because she is hurting her. ‘But actually, the thing I really want is...for her to feel confident and secure in my love. Stop living in fear of disappointing me, in fear I’ll leave her-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know-’ Kat had not realised she knew. ‘I know you would not do that, I don’t want you to think that-’

‘I know. I got you back and I'm never letting you go. No matter what. There is nothing you could do that could make me love you any less. Especially not something that was not your fault. It just breaks my heart every time you look surprised at me being proud of you, or you second-guess calling yourself my daughter-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was hurting you, I-’ Katherine starts again.

‘That’s what I mean.’ Catalina interrupts her gently but addressing the doctor. Then she turns to Kat again. ‘You’re not responsible for my feelings. Just like you’re not responsible for my nightmares.’

‘I have some points I’d like you to elaborate a bit more on, if you don’t mind.’ Sonya says looking at her notes after waiting for some moments to be sure they don’t wish to say more on the matter. ‘But first. Do you agree with what the other said about you?’

She gets twin resigned sighs and nods.

‘Okay.’ She jots something down. ‘Now. You both referred to something that happened and you were not at fault for. Can you tell me what those things are?’

Catalina defers to Katherine with a look clearly saying ‘that’s your call’.

The girl swallows. ‘Sexual abuse.’

‘Child sexual abuse.’ Catalina growls.

The doctor looks down at her notepad. No matter how long you have been on the job and how much horrible stuff you hear, it never gets easier. She takes a moment to digest it, before moving on because she has a job to do. 'Do you blame yourself for that, Katherine?’

‘No. I know it was not my fault. I was a child and even later, I didn’t really have a choice.’

‘And you were still a child.’

‘Can I ask how old you were?’

‘It started when I was 13.’

The doctor nods. The girl looks in her early twenties at most, so that was not such a long time ago, especially if it went on for a while.

‘Do you feel or ever felt that your mother would think it was your fault?’

‘No. Not that. Just...that...she’d be…disappointed? Ashamed? Lots of people didn’t believe me, you know. Or thought I deserved what I got. Went looking for it.’ She gets lost in the memories for a few moments. ‘But I never thought she’d be one of them. But I also knew that it was not what she had hoped for me.’

‘Of course, it was not.’ Catalina almost spats out. ‘I would not wish that on my worst enemy, of course I would not wish that for my child.’

‘I always wanted to make her proud.’

‘You do.’

‘And I struggle to believe that. She is right.’ Katherine admits, referring to what Catalina listed as the main issue she hoped therapy would help her with. ‘It’s just that I’ve always looked up to her. I know she is not perfect. She doesn’t have to be. Not with me.’ She sends her a pointed look. ‘Look. I don’t know.’ Her tone is slightly defeated. ‘I’m generally quite confident in lots of things...but I just...feel like I don’t deserve her? After my mother died, she has been the only one who ever truly and genuinely loved me for myself without ulterior motives. Some days it’s just hard to believe that she did. Does. Since nobody else ever did.’

Catalina clears her throat. ‘I know four people who would argue about that...’

‘Until recently, I guess.’ Katherine corrects herself, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips.

Sonya hums. ‘You mentioned your mother dying?’

‘I adopted her after we....reunited.’

‘That’s a lot to unpack.’ The doctor mumbles almost to herself as she keeps writing quickly on her notepad. ‘Am I correct in saying that you feel guilty about not stopping the abuse from happening?’

Catalina nods while Katherine mutters ‘Literally impossible.’

‘Can you give me some background? How did you meet? What happened...’

‘After her mother died, she was in my care,’ they had gone over what they could share and what not. Saying that Kat was taking care of Catalina would be strange, but the opposite made more sense and was expected, and it could explain their bond just like the truth would. ‘Then I had to-’

‘Leave.’

Catalina swallows and nods. That’s a way to put it. But she is glad that Kat did it for her...and like that. Her death is still a difficult topic for her. At first it had been more about the circumstances in which she died, but now, knowing what happened after...it’s even worse.

Sonya raises an eyebrow, as if to let them know she is aware that they are not telling the full story, but she nonetheless motions for them to continue.

‘I was sent to stay with some relatives. That’s where it started.’

‘Did you choose to leave?’ The doctor addresses Catalina.

‘No! It was,’ she takes a breath, ‘circumstances beyond my control.’

Sonya nods. It is not uncommon to know something rationally but emotionally still feeling guilty. ‘What happened after? Things seem to be better now...’

‘We were...brought back together.’ They beam at each other. ‘I officially adopted her.’

‘The last years had been the best of my life.’

The doctor can’t help smiling at the obvious happiness and love they radiate while talking about each other being together again. ‘Is there a specific reason you have decided to seek counselling now or is it just...right time, circumstances, things coming to a head now...’ she wonders.

‘Up until recently I had not shared what happened. Like, she knew how it ended, they all did. But not everything that came before.’

‘That’s a very brave thing to do. Sharing is never easy. Especially if you have done so in the past and have not been believed. And considering your fear of losing her love.’ She adds since that’s specific to her case. ‘Also I commend you for reaching out and looking for help. Both of you. Often admitting that you need help is the hardest step.’

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Therapy now joins Spanish, writing and creating a musical, and adoption in the list of things I wrote about in this fic I know very little of.

[aurorafreerose]

Don’t Be Late- Kacchako

Summary- Bakugo writes Uraraka a letter. She gets herself into more than what she can handle. 

Headcanons- Bakugou’s sweat (nitroglycerin) smells like caramel + he calls her angel face (manga canon) instead of round face. 

Writer’s note- I wrote this chapter listening to Borderline (single ver.) by Tame Impala, We Got Love by Teyana Taylor, and Flashing Lights by Kanye West, and encourage you to do the same!

Words: 2014

Read on Ao3!

"To: Angel Face,"   Ochaco started to read out loud.

Wait a minute.

"'Angel Face' ?!" sputtered Uraraka in utter bewilderment.

"Doesn't Bakugo-kun call you that, kero?" asked Tsuyu, her straight black hair tucked into a messy ponytail. "Yes, but I didn't expect him to address me like that in my note... and he made it so obvious, too..." Uraraka trailed off.  

Today's assignment in class had been to write each other anonymous notes critiquing their battle abilities, with the intent of gathering constructive criticism from their peers for the next week's training sessions in USJ. It forced them all to analyze their classmates' strengths and weakness, and more importantly, gave them rudimentary, short-term goals to focus on. They were supposed to be anonymous, because- how did Aizawa-sensei put it- "I don't want you spending your time worrying about the implications of your classmates' notes. You'll be assigned a random pair, because I don't trust you to pick. The point of this exercise is to gather feedback, not a free-for-all in which you trade personal opinions with each other. That's why you aren't going to put your names on there, and don't even think about writing something unrelated. I assure you that if anyone does- he'd narrowed his eyes at them- they'll have to deal with me personally."

Ochaco shuddered as she recalled Aizawa-sensei's frightening aura emanating the room earlier that day.

"And don't even think about writing something rude or thoughtless- I'm looking at you, Bakugo and Kirishima-" she remembered Bakugo had replied with a dismissive "Tch" and reclined his head back as if he didn't have a care in the world. He'd kicked his legs up on the seat in front of him- which coincidentally, belonged to a highly affronted Iida, which had made Aizawa-sensei so irritated that he gave Bakugo his signature death stare for thirty seconds before Bakugo finally gave up on their standoff and sat down like a normal person. A small smile graced her lips as she sat remembering the day's events.  

She realized that Bakugo was probably the only person who was confident enough - or maybe careless - to pay no heed to their teacher's warning. But why would he go through the trouble of risking house arrest just to address her-

"Keep reading, Uraraka!" prompted Mina, leaning her head forward.

"Oh- right! Sorry, girls!" Uraraka replied bashfully, unconsciously raising her four fingers to her neck as she realized she'd momentarily gotten lost in her thoughts. The chattery group were all seated in the common area, with Tsuyu on her left, Hagakure and Momo on the couch directly opposite theirs, Jirou in an armchair diagonal from her right, and Mina resting (somewhat) beside her. They'd decided to debrief the notes with each other, because really, who wouldn't want to find out who said what to who? She resumed reading the note, being careful to keep her pinkies in the air.

"Your quirk is strong."

"Ehhh? Bakugo-kun complimented you?" remarked Mina in awe. She had flopped backwards onto the couch, her head now upside-down and parallel to Ochaco's. "He almost never compliments anyone, except for maybe All Might... but I don't really know if that counts..." She lifted her arms absentmindedly and outstretched her palms, wiggling each of her fingers.

"He might have felt obligated to, since it was an official assignment and all," Momo suggested thoughtfully, nestling her head in between her thumb and her index finger.

"Well, he never complimented me, he just criticized me! You all just heard it for yourselves!" Jiro chimed in angrily, brandishing her letter around, which she'd read right before Ochaco's. "And he wasn't nice about it either, but I guess that's typical of him," she admitted.

"Go on, Uraraka-chan!" Hagakure leaned forward- you could tell because her pajama shirt shifted directions- and Ochaco assumed she had an encouraging expression on her face, although you could never be sure with her.

"In order to make the best use of it, you should continue to focus on learning martial arts."

"What does he mean by that?" Ochaco looked upward, her face set in a thoughtful expression as she let her thoughts roll off of the tip of her tongue.

"It means... you should continue to focus on learning martial arts?" Mina's head was now resting on the floor as she continued her descent down the couch, her still upside-down body making its way as her lopsided thighs, each going in a different direction, took the place of where her head had previously been next to Ochaco's head.

"I think Bakugo-kun means you should improve your fighting form. He was probably thinking about the sports festival," suggested Tsuyu, bringing her lips down to the milkshake resting comfortably in between her hands. Everyone seemed to approve of this interpretation, and they all went silent in anticipation of Uraraka's next words.

"However, there are times when you have to appear relaxed, even if it's just an act."

"That's it?" asked Momo curiously. "I thought he would have had more to say, even if they were supposed to be short."

"Yao-momo, why would he have made it longer?" said Ochaco.

"I don't know, but he went through an awful lot of trouble just to make sure you knew it was him who had written," Momo remarked.

"All right, we've spent way too much time on this note! My turn!" exclaimed Mina excitedly, who was now lying on the floor smiling and pulling out her own set of yellow paper. "See what this one says... I think it might have been Mineta, because look, it's kind of pervy, see..."

"Ahhhh..."

As the girls gathered around Mina, Ochaco wasn't really paying attention to whatever weird note they were hotly discussing. Bakugo's note was still on her mind.

There was no reason for him to reveal himself to her, but he did it anyways. Why would he do that? He didn't gain anything from it. Maybe he was bored, and decided to trip her up?

And telling her to improve her martial arts skills? That was way too vague! What was she supposed to think of that? Was he just trying to rub her loss in even more?

No, he wasn't that kind of person. As scarily competitive as he was, Bakugo was never cruel to her.

Did he want a rematch? Maybe that is what he wants. It was almost too perfect. They were training next week, and tomorrow was their free day, so if that's what he wants, it's what he'll get. I'll ask him. Even after their match at the sports festival, she wanted to improve so badly. And of course, the best person to ask was the person who gave her the advice in the first place, right?

The next time I see him, I'll ask him, she decided.

About ten minutes later, speak of the devil!  Bakugo walked into the common area, wearing a black tank top that (Ochaco hated to admit it, but it was true) accentuated his already well-defined muscles nicely and blue athletic pants, a towel wrapped around his neck. Fresh from the gym his fluffy blonde hair, unruly as it always was, poked out in a multitude of different directions.

His expression was blank. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He stared straight ahead at the floor, not bothering to glance her way. Her heart almost felt like it was sinking, but then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She lifted herself off of the couch, gave a quick "I'll be back" to the girls, who were still avidly discussing whether or not Mineta wrote the note, and began walking Bakugo's way.

When he saw her coming, he paused the return journey to his room and sent a slight nod of acknowledgement her way. She stopped walking when she was directly in front of him. She didn't remember him being this tall, but he'd grown over time to the point where he ended up dwarfing her tinier-by-comparison frame, making her seem miniscule. She caught a whiff of burnt caramel emanating from him, but quickly forgot about it as his red eyes narrowed at her.

"What do you want, Angel Face?"

He sounded impatient. She noticed his voice seemed softer compared to his usual growl, but it was clear he wasn't paying her much attention.

"I was thinking about the sports festival-"

"And?" He cut her off with no regard to what she was saying, overly eager to finish their conversation. It was obvious how much he wanted to head upstairs, even though it was only 8:00.

Ochaco rolled her eyes in annoyance. Could he please, at least give her the luxury of finishing her sentences?

Creasing her brow, she asked, "Do you want to spar together tomorrow? It's a free day, after all."

He raised his eyebrows at her, finally showing some engagement with what she was asking him.

Crossing his arms, he asked, "What's in it for me?"

"Huh?"

"What do I get out of it? I'm not wasting my free time fucking you up for no good reason."

Ochaco couldn't stop the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"Practice. Experience. Well, I wanted to continue focusing on learning martial arts, and anyways, I'm curious to see how our quirks interact more." She hated herself for referencing his note, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bakugo made direct eye contact with her. It was as if a silent agreement had been made between them as his red pupils locked on target to a pair of brown ones. The intensity behind his eyes flickered, almost scaring her with his ferocity; it was off-putting, the way he radiated sheer dominance, utter power, in all aspects, and it was reaching at her, occupying all of her thoughts. It had only been a few seconds, but he'd still managed to effect her so dramatically in such a short span of time.

What was he doing to her?

"...Fine," he spat, now irritated. He really did hate being held to his word. "But let's make this clear. We're not fuckin' hanging out or whatever the fuck you and shitty Deku do, he snarled, placing a disgusted emphasis on his name. "We're just practicing."

Bakugo clearly wasn't expecting her to take his advice this particular way.

"Right. Just practicing. Got it."

Ochaco didn't understand this new, burgeoning feeling that was beginning to spread throughout her chest. It began to permeate her lungs, her breathing becoming sharp and more ragged; she was taking in much more air than she was before. For some strange reason, her heart was beating faster than it was a minute ago, and adrenaline was pumping through her veins, making her awfully tense...

Why was Bakugo Katsuki making her nervous?

"Just meet me right here at 10:45, sharp. Don't be late, cheeks."

Before she had time to respond, he was turning on his heel and walking away, leaving her free to return to her still-gossiping friends.

It was just nerves, she reassured herself on the way back. Anyone would be nervous talking to Bakugo. Anyone. He was notorious for evoking similar reactions. You couldn't blame her for her reaction. Just nerves, she repeated, ignoring the small handful of doubts in the back of her head.

Uraraka couldn't sleep. Her arms splayed across both bedsides, her heavy-lidded eyes were glassily staring at the ceiling as she busied herself with counting sheep. Slowly but surely, the sheep's coats began to get increasingly blonder and fluffier, until she was counting a horde of angry little Baku-sheep.

"Pffft!"

She didn't recall it at first, but now that she thought about the last time she saw him, she swore she remembered the tiniest blush on Bakugo's face right before he turned away.

Bakugo Katsuki, the angriest, loudest, most volatile person she knew? But why?

She realized what Bakugo was probably thinking to himself as he was writing her that note.

"However, there are times when you have to appear tough, even if it's just an act."