#and i was overwhelmed and struggling to speak so i was waiting for the queue to say those things or something

[autisticlee]

I know it's wrong and bad to say this, but sometimes I really hate when my friends have other friends. (specifically when I can't also be friends with those friends) because every time I want someone to hang out with or talk to, the only couple friends I have are always busy with their other friends. when I want to plan something with them, they will always choose the other friends over me. they will cancel plans *with* me as soon as other friends ask, but won't cancel plans *for* me when i ask. they will use up their social spoons on other friends and leave none for me. always putting things with me off or simply not responding at all.

i'm always told by random people when I say I want mkre friends "it's better to have a couple great friends than many aquantances" or something like that. but honestly it sucks because you can't rely on 1-2 people to always be there for you every day or every week when you want or need someone. if you keep asking, you're seen as annoying and clingy and they will ignore you eventually (or worse)

it's annoying that they get to fill their social needs at all times, but I never get to. because i'm never the one that gets to go first in the social queue. and when it gets to my turn, it refreshes and i'm pushed to the back again.

the only solution I can ever think of is being friends with my friends' friends too....but for some reason!!!!!! that never works out!!!! (if my friends will even share their friends with me to begin with)

[keirawantstocry]

wait i just saw your prev fitpacbo post with tony and molly

may i propose fitpac noticing tubbos been possessed by three (demons?) krow, owen and bek

peepoShy <3

ah yes tony. my favorite streamer. also i once again made the possession even worse then originally asked

Tubbo slept for hours after the gods and goddess finally left his body. Fit and Pac made sure to watch over him while he slept.

They were talking quietly to each other, flirting gently when he finally woke up with a loud gasp. Tubbo shot up from his place on the bed and stared at them with unnerving eyes.

"I am Tubbo," said a androgynous very much not Tubbo voice.

"No you're not," Fit said with a quiet laugh. "Are you one of the ones we've met before?" It didn't sound like anyone they had met but he was unsure.

"Yes, I am. I do gay roleplay. Typical Tubbo behavior."

"Aimsey!" called a deeper voice, still not Tubbo, from Tubbo's mouth.

A lighter voice cut in. "Nope, that's Tubbo. We are Tubbo. Egg. Parenthood. Where is my daughter Sunny?"

The amount of voice fighting for dominance was overwhelming at this point.

"Hey, hey," Pac said, sitting down beside Tubbo's body on the bed. "Can we get some actual introductions so we can keep track of who's speaking?"

"And," Fit cut in. "Is Tubbo there right now?"

The first voice, Aimsey, shook Tubbo's head. "It's funnier this way isn't it?"

"I'm Krow!" said the masculine voice that revealed Aimsey's name in the first place.

"I'm Izzy," the light voice said.

"I'm Tubbo," Aimsey continued to insist while laughing.

A new voice, one that reminded them of Molly, a voice of reason, joined the mix. "Tubbo isn't here right now," they said. "He should be back soon. But for now you have us." She grinned with Tubbo's mouth, and once again it looked so strange, so unlike anything Tubbo would smile like. "Call me Becky. Owen is here as well but he's being a bit quiet. Tubbo's tired. The revival has taken a lot out of him so we're taking care of him for now."

"Where's Sunny?" Izzy asked. "I want to meet the child."

"Sunny is asleep," Pac explained. "How much longer are you guys gonna be here?"

Almost as if on queue his eyes flickered strangely and all the voices made pained noises. "Not much longer," Becky said. "His body is struggling. Revival isn't easy you know and neither is..." they paused. "Five gods and goddesses possessing your mind. It doesn't do any physical damage, our immortal spirits are actually helping heal him but it's a lot to wrap your mind around."

Aimsey cut in. "Which is why he isn't here right now. Too many voices, it would be overwhelming for his mortal mind."

"That's fascinating," Pac said breathlessly. He had always been curious how exactly possession worked after the few times he had met Mine and even Mumza through Phil. Adding Tubbo to the mix just peaked his curiosity even more. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Not Tubbo considered it. "Just... take care of him, yeah?" It was hard to tell who was speaking, it seemed like they all agreed on this statement as their voices blended into one. "Take care of him in the ways that we can't."

"Of course," Fit said immediately. "We'll do everything we can."

[namuneulbo]

week sixty-seven

OKAY woah. crazy week. although mainly friday was crazy lol. im just gonna do a short highlight then tell yall ab friday in more detail.

- v ghosted me. or well, he hasnt been in on the app in days so it could be that but im gonna count it as ghosting considering he MUST notice we arent talking, right?

- started talking to j. hes a slow replier although he did tell me quite early on that he is so i dont mind it AS much but ya. i wanna talk to himmmmm more.

- in general ive been getting more matches recently, esp w men. idk how im suddenly in such an era.

- won music quiz ???? me, c, f, p and v shared the price. s had sat w out team and helped us but he wasnt officially in our team so he didnt drink anything. i had mixed vibes ab s but i quite like him now, hes really nice but he reminds me a bit of k but i dont want to think of him as shittily as i do of him just bc he kind of reminds me of him manner-wise. manner-wise as in the way he speaks, not acts.

- ms concert !!!! so good !!! shes so talented !!!!!!!!

okay, so... friday. the day had come. were all doomed.

i went to helsinki by train early in the morning and i arrived in helsinki around 11:30. i had forgotten my sandwiches i had made the night before so i was starving. i went to hesburger and had some food. i was sooooo bored for the like,, 5 hours of freetime i had before the show. i went to check out where the venue was and i was feeling quite happy but my ears started hurting so bad bc it was cold so i after finding the venue i had to find somewhere to warm up for a bit which ended up being in some health center. the area around the venue was so,,, lame. like there was nothing to do at all and it was raining and it was cold so walking outside wasnt my fav activity. i decided to go buy some food for the train ride home and then i struggled figuring out what to do bc like,, i had like two hours of freetime left so i COULDVE gone back to the city center and done some fun stuff but it was kind of that thing of when u have plans at like 4 pm so u cant do ANYTHING before that even though u realistically have the time to do it. yk?

it started raining and i was not feeling myself at all and i had the urge to cry bc i was so overwhelmed but i ended up walking around in a light panic then i went to the venue and just waited outside for like an hour. a group of brits in doomed hoodies came out of a van and walked into the venue and bro i was starting to get nervous lol everything started feeling so real.

the venue opens. ppl rush in and i let some ppl go before me since i didnt want to be first at the m&g. we got a neon orange wristband and then were guided to the wardrobe. i put away my stuff and then went to buy merch. i got the save the bees tee and its so cute. my card declined at first bc of some area ban thingy so i had to fix that real quick before buying it. the staff were so nice though!

i had to pick up my makeup from the wardrobe bc i forgot it in my bag and also i was unsure whether we were meeting dan w masks on or not so in case we werent wearing masks i wanted to fix my makeup. we ended up meeting him w masks on though so i wouldve been fine.

i go to the m&g queue. i didnt even know it had started until i saw dans back on the side of the screen separating him from the queue. he wore a nice outfit. some sweater w a skeleton on the back and ripped jeans. very dan. very on brand. i had a lil freak out and fangirled by myself lol i was so aaaaaa

i was talking w n for a good bit during the queueing and in the midst of it she said i should ask what his fav pokémon is bc we had been talking ab that a couple of days ago while i was making hama bead stuff for him. i told n id ask him to send her a voice message from my phone. n got excited ab it but told me to not waste my time w him on her but i was so sure i wanted to do this so i just set that as a lil goal.

when i was close to the front i stopped talking w n for a bit and just tried to calm down a bit. i put on the screen rec on my phone when the last person in front of me left to go meet him and once i got to walk in we immediately went in for a hug and bro i was so awkward bc he wanted to hug me above my shoulders bc yk,,, hes tall but i tried doing one of those twisty ones where one arm goes above and one under and broooo. THE TWISTY HUGS R NOT EVEN GOOD LIKE BRO NOOOOOO... anyways, before i start crying ab that, lets continue. he immediately asks if i want anything signed and i hand him my pride flag and make a little joke ab how i thought it was on brand. he asks if the letter in my hand was for him and i misinterpret it as if the pride flag was for him so i just answer awkwardly like “no but i brought u a letter” like OKAY GURL....... anyways... i hand him the letter and make a lil comment on the taemin sticker i used to seal it w. he laughs ab it and says i have taste. he goes in to reach for my phone and asks if i want him to take the pictures and i just say yes and tried to make him notice my cringey wallpaper of him and phil, yk,,, thinking i could make a lil joke ab how i have it as a joke and that i dont have a literal photo of him and phil from like 2009 thinking its the shit (although,,, it kind of is the shit). anyways, he doesnt notice it and just takes a few pics. 5/6 turn out blurry but theyre all cute so its fine, still ly dan lol he starts ending the interaction and being all like “well, i hope u enjoy the show tonight!” and i reply w like “also-” and he was listening attentively again and being all like “yeah?” instead of scurrying me away (bro i feel like im making both him and me sound like douchebags but it was a pleasant experience, it was just a very hectic one). i tell him shortly that me and n met bc of him and phil and he was like “really??” and i asked him if he could send a voice message to her telling her his fav pokémon bc she loves pokémon. hes like “yes, ofc!” and then i hand him my phone w me and ns chat open. he starts a message but doesnt record it so he has to do it again and he reacted so cutely when he realized it wasnt recording PLSS hes so cute. he records it again and then i thank him and he goes in for another hug before i leave and aghhhh i was so shakey afterwards. also, HE SMELLS SO GOOD????? its very obviously lush so i have a mission to find that exact lush product now bc WOAH. i smelt like him for a solid 30 mins afterwards, it was crazy.

the show was so good and my seat was great!!! im so happy w everything and the pre-show pl was amazing. sticker, famous last words, his own diss track??? i loved it. so happy. i love dan sm!!!

sotw: the cure - apart

[ilovesmosh55]

copy pasting my Min autism headcanon proof doc from when I first watched book 4 and went insane. Because I was right

Need for familiarity/routine/plans:

The Twin Tapes: shown to have a very set daily routine revolving around work and college applications before Ryan comes back. Gets angry when Ryan disrupts it and tries to get him to run away to New York.

The Iceberg Car: upset by the fact that he cannot remove the boots given to him by the train, comments that he wants his sneakers back.

The Party Car: after being overwhelmed, Min chooses to hide and calm down in the bathroom rather than the much cleaner green room. When asked why by Ryan, he explains that it reminds him of home. Additionally, he is so eager to change into his own clothes that he does so almost immediately after getting them back (albeit he does so offscreen). He was clearly uncomfortable changing near a crowd and remarks afterwards “there was a bathroom to get changed in this whole time?!”

The Pig Baby Car: Min gets frustrated with Ryan multiple times for rushing and not planning out what he does before he does it. He is shown multiple times throughout the series to dislike spontaneity in similar ways.

Need to correct others:

The Twin Tapes: interrupts to correct Ryan about what booth they used to sit in in middle school (notable also is his lack of thought about how that could impact Ryan emotionally)

The Pig Baby Car: says “I told you” to Ryan after being proven right about Pig Baby hating the cookbook provided.

The Art Gallery Car: Min corrects Ryan about how Lion Tamer actually sounds. Also corrects him about the maple trees in one painting.

Lack of emotional intelligence:

The Pig Baby Car: after coming to the conclusion that the number is Ryan’s he says “you actually took your time with something for once!” (Which you know. Sounds pretty insulting.) when Ryan apologizes for getting them on the train, instead of comforting him he says “I forgive you” and “you can’t help it if you have a lot to learn”.

The Astro Queue Car: while a lot of his condescension to Ryan here does seem intentional (he even acknowledges that Ryan might think he’s trying to be mean) a lot of it comes from a place of thinking he’s being helpful, as well as it resulting from his black and white view of whose number they have. When he is intentionally mean and angry, it’s because he sees what Ryan does as intentional defiance of him and his rules. Once he’s proven wrong, he tries (but fails) to apologize and is clearly shaken.

The Castle Car: tries to console Kez by saying “you’re basically good, you just need to get better at it!” Great fucking commentary pal!

Black and white thinking (especially regarding rules and instructions):

The Pig Baby Car: Min has a black and white view on numbers, thinking that he and Ryan’s must only belong to/be affected by one of them. When he comes to the (incorrect) conclusion that the number is Ryan’s he seems relieved and resigns himself to “helping” Ryan get it down. Additionally, Min tries strictly to follow what he believes the “rules” of the car to be, insisting they cook and getting mad at Ryan for trying to break the rules (talk his way out of the car instead of cooking).

The Old West Car: gets angry at Ryan for breaking the “rules” and speaking out of turn in court.

The Astro Queue Car: Min becomes increasingly frustrated when Ryan doesn’t follow what he believes are the car’s “rules” (waiting in the line). He cannot grasp any other way to get into the party being possible, as they would break the “rules”. He literally fucking says “if you just do everything you’re supposed to do you’ll eventually end up where you need to be”.

Difficulty communicating emotions:

The Astro Queue Car: struggles to express emotions besides anger, and can’t bring himself to apologize to Ryan after realizing what he’s done.

The Mega Maze Car: legit takes him like 8 episodes to finally vocalize why he’s been upset with Ryan (because he feels like he can’t trust him).

Train To Nowhere: does not immediately comfort Ryan when he calls himself garbage (also a moment of lacking emotional intelligence). He has to leave and gather his thoughts before having a serious conversation with Ryan, and Ryan has to be the one who approaches him first.

Misc.:

Often seen shoving his hands in his pockets while walking (autism can cause irregular gait/arm positioning while walking).

High levels of stress/anxiety are more common for autistic people. And he is sooo anxious

Seems to have a special interest in music, has known how to play his mini synth since childhood and infodumps about his favorite album multiple times in the show.

A lot of his anger especially at the beginning of the season seems to stem from his routine/plan for life being interrupted.

Seldom reciprocates/initiates physical contact.

I’m pretty sure I remember him pacing while upset too but my head feels like it’s gonna split in half so I’ll rewatch and look for that later.

[kentos-filmcamera]

10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

7. Festivities

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: hi hi! soo a few things: I would like to warn that this chapter shows a more feminine side of the reader so if anyone is uncomfy,, you've been warned. this chapter is just friendship and ships (there's nobara x maki and yuuji x megumi if you squint a bit) and it's 3.0k words (new record!!!!!) so buckle up and enjoy! also, next chapter is my favorite so far so go read it as soon as you're done with this.

Toge persisted you to rest for the past three days, as you were indicated. He sat by your bedside so you wouldn’t go anywhere, always keeping your injured ankle raised and your head comfortable, helping you to change bandages from time to time. Even then, you persisted to go as normal and continue with your duties.

“So hot…” Maki complained from your green couch, her glasses set aside as she covered her eyes from the sun with her forearm.

“I think you should stop hugging Kugisaki, then” Megumi suggested, the redhead laying on top of her, but he just received a death glare.

“Shake” Toge agreed with Maki, laying on top of Panda, who was snoring loudly. You, on the other hand, were on top of Yuuji’s shoulders, working on your damaged air conditioner.

“Gimme the flat screwdriver, ‘Gumi” You extended your hand, the other one holding one of the filters of the AC.

Your air conditioning system broke down once a year, and you knew it was because of the dirty filters. For some reason, everyone decided to hang out in your room, so extra help was usually given out to you. Maki and Nobara cleaned the filters, Panda and Toge first assisted you and then the help shifted to Megumi and Itadori. The last one was more than glad to have a pair of thighs wrapped around his neck, and his smile displayed so as Inumaki and Megumi both stared him down to oblivion. With the screwdriver now in your hand, you pressed each filter well to its original place. You closed the lid and Yuuji plopped you down on your bed, making you laugh.

You reached in to click on the air conditioner, it turned on normally and after a few minutes, it wasn’t leaking water anymore. “It’s fixed” You heard a collective sigh you let out yourself, feeling the cold air fill the room.

Itadori laid down on the floor by your mini-fridge and Megumi sat at the edge of your bed, next to your feet. You were all so overwhelmed by the heat, no one really wanted to speak, just take in the fake rise in temperature to calm down their sweating and corporal heat.

Just as you were falling into pure, calm bliss, you heard bass thumping from down the hall. You opened your eyes and raised your head towards the door, at the same time everyone else did, confused. Queue in Gojo with a boombox from the 90s, playing ‘Congratulations’ by Post Malone. There was now a collective groan in annoyance as he walked in and faced the bunch of sweaty teens.

“Good afternoon my amazing students!” There was another collective groan in response. No one didn’t even bother raising their heads once more to look at him, and Megumi just turned his face away slightly. Everyone was grumpy or simply not in the mood “I am here to give out great news! Everyone who has tried for first-grade sorcerer has been officially promoted! Congratulations!”

Suddenly, the aura of the room shifted. Everyone was upright, in a mix of shock and happiness. Nobara started screaming out in happiness with Maki, while you, Megumi, Gojo, and Itadori started jumping on your bed in a circle, holding hands. Inumaki was hugging Panda.

“Let’s throw a party! A fancy one!” Itadori suggested, and everyone cheered. Gojo seemed very fond of the idea, as he laughed.

“Dress code is suit and tie, I’ll see you all in the common dining room at 8! Now if you excuse me, I have a party to plan!” Gojo jumped out of the bed, picked up his speaker, and sprinted out of the room. You came down from your bed and threw yourself into Toge’s arms, who pulled you closer in by your waist. You laughed and nuzzled into his neck happily; he was smiling proudly.

“Oh my god! We need to go shopping!” Nobara realized, grabbing Maki’s wrist and snatching you away from Inumaki to head out the door.

“Wait, I need my wallet!” You screamed, but Toge ran after you to give you the tote bag you carried for trips outside the school. You blew him a kiss as he waved you goodbye.

“I’m dressed so inappropriately to go out” Maki groaned as Nobara rushed you on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand so no one flirts with you” Nobara beamed at her and then wink, making Maki fluster. You laughed and elbowed her in the ribs, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I'm going to have to third wheel today!” You laughed, watching as both women turned crimson.

Nobara insisted on shopping in the Harajuku district and looking at her eyes gleaming while passing different stores was like watching a kid in a candy store. Surprisingly, she was the pickiest one out of the three. Maki found her outfit first, a black blazer and pants combo with a black mesh button-up that had Nobara drooling. You found a black silk slip dress that reached down your calf, a slit on one of the legs with a loose neckline that reached down your collarbones. Nobara found a black dress that reached a bit down to her knees, it was strapless with a see-through long sleeve with roses. She laughed at the irony of it, considering the poison she was infected with last week manifested in roses on her skin. After that, you went to grab a bite, the three of you talking about everything, anything and nothing at the same time. You noticed the flirtatious remarks between your companions, happy that both had decided to move their attraction to flirting, rather than just staring at each other all the time. You returned to Jujutsu High around 3 PM, more exhausted than ever, you threw your bag to a corner, kicked off your sneakers, and threw yourself on the bed face down, falling asleep in that same starfish position.

“Aw, she’s asleep” You heard a voice comment. You thought it was only a dream and continued on napping. “Let’s just let her rest”

“Are you crazy? They promised to do our makeup! That’s three people already!” Another hushed voice chimed in.

“Tuna mayo” A third voice hummed. You were already back fast asleep as someone tried to shake you awake gently, only to fail miserably.

Toge sighed and squatted down, his face to level yours. Even with your mouth ajar, your duvet darkening from your saliva, and your slightly loud breathing, he loved how you looked so serene that what he was about to do next he found very cruel.

Delicately, he moved your hair away from your ear, swooping it to the other side of your face. Right there, he was taken away by your sleeping beauty; purples, oranges, and blues chiming into light your face as the sun went down. He sighed, half-smiling “Wake up”

He watched as your eyes popped open and you sat up, rigid. “What day is it?” You wondered, scratching your head and yawning, disoriented after the sudden surge of energy running through your body. Toge sat down by your side and placed his hand on your bare waist. You noticed lately he was even more touchy than usual.

“What day is it?” Nobara mocked you, a vein in her forehead palpitating. “You need to do our makeup! Hurry! You haven’t even showered!” She snatched you away from Toge and pushed you inside your bathroom. You heard a light ‘Tsk!’ outside from Inumaki, who has proven time to time really appreciate you being snatched away from him. “And you! Get out!” Kugisaki ushered him out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

“A little harsh, huh?” Maki said, turning to Nobara, who just rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care” She shrugged before taking out her hair straightener and a heat protector. You chuckled from inside the bathroom before taking your phone out of your pocket and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker on the wall next to the bathroom mirror. You shuffled the playlist Toge made you a while ago and turned on the faucet.

“I hope you’re not going on a world tour right now! We don’t have time to listen to you all the way to your fiftieth stop in London!” You heard Nobara knock and shout at you from the other side of the door.

You rolled your eyes “Maki, keep your girl in check!” You shouted back before stripping and stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of your third song, washing the suds away from your body and giving your rendition of “Cognac Queen” by Megan Thee Stallion when Nobara opened the door and dragged you out of the shower. It became a struggle, and you were only able to grab the pink fluffy robe that hung on your door.

You fixed Maki’s hair by pulling it half up with a small claw clip, leaving her bangs out. Then you applied the lightest layer of makeup, with the dark eyeliner she requested. Nobara, on the other hand, asked for a full face with a red lip. On the other hand, you went for a light look, with a striking eye and a glossy lip. Then, the three of you rushed to get changed as you realized it was almost ten minutes before 8. As you exited the dorm, you wrapped a white ballerina-style cardigan, taking one last look at yourself at the entrance mirror before Nobara dragged you out of there. The three of you walked to the common room carefully, the door opened slightly.

You heard a couple whistles as you entered the room, you humored the boys, Nobara looked slightly mad while Maki ignored them. You realized that for the occasion Toge wasn’t wearing anything that covered his mouth, and made it evident it was a bit ajar watching you arrive. You said hello to the staff, greeting Nanami happily, who seemed pleased with your recovery and being slightly confused at why Utahime was there. You then headed over to greet your classmates, ending up with Toge.

“You look very handsome” You chuckled, and reached in to fix the strands of hair that fell on his forehead. He was wearing a sage green shirt, black trousers, and thin black suspenders. He shrugged a little and blushed as you touched him, leaning slightly into your touch.

“Shake” He nodded, and held your hand briefly, accepting the compliment. You blushed and looked down before taking your hand away from his face, afraid you were overstepping.

The party was light, everyone chatted and conversed lightly. Itadori seemed very busy on his phone, while Megumi spent all his energy trying to grab his attention. Yuuji called out for you, making you pull away from your conversation with Toge and Panda, who looked dashing in a yellow bow tie. He also called out for Panda. “I need your help,” He said nervously “I saw a speaker with lights in your room, can you go bring it here? Also, please wait at the entrance for someone. Panda, I need you as a distraction”

You excused yourself and left swiftly, fitting your cardigan once more. You walked the way up to your room, taking the squared-shaped, medium-sized speaker with half spheres on top, grabbing the aux cord just in case. Holding the speaker by its handle, you followed the trail to the entrance quietly.

“What is this?” You frowned upon seeing the students of the Kyoto sister school facing you. You raised your brows and Mai and Momo narrowed their eyes back to you, but the rest didn’t. Your eyes fell into the liquor store bags Todo held in his hands, then it all made sense. A smirk crept onto your face as Todo watched your change of expression and laughed. A party with the Kyoto students didn’t seem half as bad, and hey, maybe the stone-cold Soju can solve things out between everyone there.

Soon, you heard a couple of explosions and fireworks and some commotion coming from the common room. “Let’s go” You picked up the skirt of your dress a little to run a little easier, the rest following after you. You noticed everyone outside watching an impromptu firework show as you sneaked in the Kyoto students to the now dark room. Slowly, the rest of the Tokyo students sneaked back to the common room, Itadori locking the door in.

“Okay Panda, that was fun, but can we— huh?!” Gojo realized the locked doors and drawn windows. He tried to force the door open but it was closed shut.

“Oh finally. Can we go to a bar now?” Shoko sighed “Let them be Satoru, they’re in the blink of death every day, let them party”

“Can we all pretend they didn’t do that and we were here all the time chaperoning?” Gojo gave in easily, changing his usual blindfold to black, round sunglasses. Everyone made a noise in agreement and the staff left, feeling the bass pumping under their feet, the surges of different colored lights leaking out of the shut windows.

At first, the party was tense. Everyone was just staring at the other from across the room. You were busy in the background trying to plug in your phone and sync it to the speaker’s Bluetooth. Then, Todo gave a lengthy speech about sorority and brotherhood, and how you should all solve your differences so you could… get drunk and nasty together. In fact, it didn’t take long for the party to lighten up and turn into a club scene. By the third round of shots, mostly everyone was hot and bothered, all the tables moved aside to create a makeshift dance floor. Surprisingly, Panda was an incredible bartender, and he was out to kill; his drinks were packed with alcohol, but fruity and candied flavors hid it all and made it even more addicting. By your third drink, you ripped open the seam of the dress, creating another slit for you to move better.

You, Nobara, and the Zen’in twins were incredible dancers, but you didn’t really expect it from Itadori. He had all the spice down in his hips and the way he could shake his ass like his name was Cardi B. He joined in after his third shot with the song ‘Up’

“Broke boys don’t deserve no pussy!” Todo shouted to the song for the rest to respond.

“I know that’s right!” Everyone answered, except for Toge, before you continued dancing. Now more than ever you felt the euphoria of having money. First-grade sorcerers gave you a considerable amount of money, even if you were just a student.

“Yuuji!” Your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at him, before cheering him on along with the others. By the makeshift bar, a flustered Megumi joined by a sober Inumaki watched him dance, not knowing what he should do in that situation.

Then, as if you were reading his mind, you showed him what he should be doing; standing behind him and grabbing his hips. Soon as Nobara did the same with you, followed by Maki, followed by Mai, followed by Todo, making a train. On the other corner, there was some smoke coming up. You never thought you could have this much fun with people.

Another song started playing “It’s my homegirl, we got the same tattoos!” Itadori pulled you close to him while Todo recorded, and you laughed.

“Don’t accuse me of shit if you ain’t got proof!” You sang along, pointing to the camera, following along.

“What if we got matching tattoos?” Itadori turned to you, and you both frowned to think it hard.

“I think that’s enough” Megumi pulled your drink away from your hand.

“‘Gumi, relax. Go take a shot or a hit from Kamo in the corner, it’s a party! C’mon!” You pulled him to the dance floor, both him and Yuuji as you both threw it back on him to the song. This time, Megumi caught clues from earlier and shyly placed his hands on Itadori’s hips. You stopped and nodded, patting him on the back and walking away, a bit clumsily.

“Do we have any more water left?” You asked Panda, feeling your throat and eyes dry from the intoxicating substances. Panda nodded happily and gave you some water. You had reached your limit and decided it was time to sweat off the drinks and hydrate yourself.

“Oh my bad, that’s vodka,” He said as your mouth went into a thin line as you recognized the strong taste and scent. Inumaki snickered “Here”

“Tell me it’s not vinegar this time” You joked, taking a loud sniff of the liquid, and it was in fact, water. You took a large gulp, as you heard thunder followed by the soft pitter-patter of the rain. “Oh, it’s raining” You turned to Inumaki, who looked stunned at your drunken beauty. Your eyeliner was smudged, and so was your lipstick. There was some hair sticking to the nape of your neck due to the sweat. He could swear he saw some drops running down the small of your back. He gulped and looked away.

“You’ve been here all night, love; c’mon, let’s dance” You set your cup down and took Toge’s hand, pulling him out of his seat. The only reason this party was going along all well was that alcohol made you more straightforward, which made you all sultry towards your evident crush.

You noticed he was paler than usual “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” You whispered in his ear, your hand slowly climbing from his hand all the way up to his neck, where you caressed the area. You never could have known alcohol made you that bold, and such a, well, maneater. At his lack of an answer, you just chuckled and took his hand, guiding him elsewhere.

Everyone at the dance floor greeted him more than enthusiastically, and suddenly, every insecurity Toge was holding deep inside of him throughout the whole party had disappeared. He blinked several times as you smiled at him as radiant as ever. “Let’s dance!” He nodded and smiled back. I love you.

[blu-joons]

He Meets Your Big Family ~ Jeon Jungkook

You always knew it was going to be a big deal introducing Jungkook to your family, you’d answered hundreds of questions from them before about him, but never had they met him in person, you were terrified that your family would be overwhelming for him.

“I’m excited,” he chuckled as he followed you out of the car and across the road, “you’ve told me so many stories about them, I can finally put a face to all of the names,” he added.

“I’m glad you’re excited,” you replied.

As per usual, he was calm and composed, he’d waited for so long to meet your family, coming from such a small family he was excited to meet the large part of his extended family.

His hand slipped into yours, squeezing your hand reminding you that things would be alright, he knew that everyone would love him, he’d use his charm like he usually did. He knew how you felt, when you were set to meet his family he was terrified that they’d end up scaring you off, but luckily everything seemed to go well, and he knew that the same would happen today with yours.

You smiled across at him, “I wish I had the confidence that you have, they’re going to love that smile of yours. It’s the embarrassing stories I’m worried about them sharing with you today.”

“I’m excited to listen to every single one of them,” he teased.

Your eyes rolled, shaking your head as he smirked back at you, it was all part of the fun of meeting families, hearing about all the silly things that you got up to as a child, knowing that he’d be able to mock you for it over the years to come.

The front door was open once you arrived, walking straight in, every member of your family was in the garden awaiting your arrival. “Hello,” you blushed, stunned by how many faces there were.

Instantly your younger siblings ran over to Jungkook, whilst you were straight over to your parents pulling them into a tight hug. Whilst most of your family only knew him as Jungkook, a few of the younger members of your family knew him as the superstar he was.

Questions were soon fired across at him like you anticipated, with so many people wanting to meet him and introduce themselves he was overwhelmed with how many people were quick to huddle around you both.

You’d warned him several times just how big your family were, but he continued to ignore you and try to pretend that it was no big deal to him, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that even he was struggling to speak to everyone quickly.

“It’s so lovely to meet you Jungkook.”

“We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Y/N said that you were good looking!”

He struggled to listen to all of the voices at once, looking around for you to help him and try and calm everyone down.

“Give him some space,” you told them all, moving your siblings away from him so that he could look around. “Everyone, this is Jungkook, my boyfriend, try not to scare him off.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we would never,” your mum assured you, finally greeting Jungkook.

Finally, everyone settled around him, they began to talk to him, and one by one began to introduce themselves to him, you could tell he was trying hard to remember everyone so that he could impress them all later on.

Once everyone had finished obsessing over Jungkook, they finally acknowledged that you had come home too, very few of them had an interest, but you were still happy to see them.

For most of the afternoon together, Jungkook was right by your side, it was scary for him to be around so many new people, but he tried his hardest to speak to as many of them as possible, before you pulled him to the side.

“Happy?” You asked him instantly.

“I am very happy, promise.”

His arms wrapped around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hearing the murmurs of your family members who spotted the two of you across the garden.

“You’ll never be able to escape them now,” you told him, shooting a glare at them all to leave you both alone, “I’m glad they all seem to like you though, and not too many embarrassing stories have been told to you just yet.”

“There’s still a lot of time, I can always ask to hear a couple,” he teased watching as your eyes lit up in horror. “I’m only messing with you I’d never do that.”

“I know what you’re like, and you definitely would,” you chuckled in response.

The two of you were interrupted by your mother calling out dinner, the whole garden had a stretch of food across in order to fill all of your family, plus a little extra to make sure that Jungkook was well fed too.

“Guests eat first!” She quickly called out, walking over to pass Jungkook a plate, moving him to the front of the queue despite his protests that he was happy to wait. “Fill up on everything you want Jungkook, the others will eat whatever.”

“I’m honestly happy to eat what’s left,” he spoke, but her head shook.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the control your mum had over him, he didn’t mind being at the front of the queue, the sooner he had access to all of the food was better in his opinion, he was just excited to enjoy all your mother’s cooking.

Once everyone had eaten, and continued to get to know each other, time soon flew by, and the night began to draw in, no one wanted to see the two of you go, but you were only in town for a few days.

“It was really nice to meet you Jungkook,” your father was the first to speak, offering Jungkook his hand to shake. He looked back to you for reassurance, you nodded encouraging him to shake his hand as a good gesture.

“It was nice to meet you too Mr Y/L/N,” he responded back to him.

“Call me Y/F/N,” your dad told him, watching as your smile grew, seeing how accepted Jungkook had been in your family made you so unbelievably happy.

The goodbyes took a long time to go through, Jungkook had perfected every single person’s name, and was happy to go around them all again with a hug and a smile.

You followed behind him, there wasn’t quite the same enthusiasm for you, but you didn’t mind too much, “it was so lovely to see everyone again, I forget how big our family is!”

Your hand slipped into Jungkook’s as the two of you walked out of the house and back over to your car, he couldn’t hide the smile on his face after it all.

“How did you find it?” You asked him.

He nodded, “your family is amazing, I’ve always wanted to be a part of a big family, and all of yours made me feel so welcome. I can’t get to know your family more, over the years to come too, they’re great.”

You let go of a huge sigh of relief, “I’m just glad that none of them scared you off, it can be quite intimidating meeting so many members of one family.”

“I’ll admit now that I was a little bit nervous, I just didn’t want to admit it,” he chuckled, “but I know now I had absolutely no reason to be nervous at all.”

“And you shouted at me for being nervous,” you giggled, hitting his arm lightly. “I’m just glad that everyone liked each other, that’s all I wanted from today, everyone to be happy.”

His arm reached across as you climbed into the car, “everyone was very happy.” “I’m so pleased.”

---

Masterlist

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 125

I am so sorry that this is posting late today!! I didn’t realize my queue ran out, or that I didn’t load these in there.

Thank you, every day, to everyone who helped me hang in there as long as I’ve been lucky enough to write this story.  As much fun as the weapons expo was, I swear we are working towards everything else that has changed in the time skip!  I would love to hear what y’all are most excited to find out about.

Shoutouts always go to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae for all your encouragement, plot bunnies, and beta-reading.

The day after the weapons exhibition, the air on the Ark was still crackling with excitement. Every time I overheard people chattering over a specific performance, I smiled to myself.  That particular event had been the first that Parvati and Hannah planned without my help, and hearing the overwhelming approval for it was something I would be all too happy to convey back to them.  They really had done a great job.

Sebastian ended up bowing out after the first year, because he was unable to balance the demands of the mentorship and the Undine.  As the only one of the three who could not just change their job responsibilities, he had chosen his passion - which absolutely no one was upset about.   Parvati had even joked that we had backup Councillors, but only one Undine.

The response I received from my mentees when I shared what I heard, however, was underwhelming. Hannah gave a small smile and nodded, while Parvati waved off the praise with a scoff. “We were essentially following a template,” she pointed out.

Hannah nodded at me with a rueful expression. “Unfortunately, she’s right.  There wasn’t much of a challenge, there.”

Just as a full pout was settling into my chest, Alistair breezed in and took off his scarf - for once, I couldn’t tell myself it was just for dramatic effect, as the climate controls in public areas were phased in to mimic what was projected for seasonal changes on Von.  Currently it was the cold season, and Alistair was miserable about it. “Of course it wasn’t a challenge,” he scowled. “You both have been assisting Madam Reid since the exhibitions began. However, it is profoundly rude to ignore the feedback you received.” He glared at Parvati and Hannah, who managed to look sheepish. “One of you will be Councillor one day, and your responsibility will be things just like this. You should be pleased with a job well done, not resting on your laurels.”

I nodded and didn’t bother hiding my grin. “He’s right, you know. Besides, don’t forget that this is when the hard part starts.”

Two sets of eyes widened at me, with Hannah adding a gasp of horror. “Oh gods. The feedback…”

“Yep.” I popped the last letter as I took my seat and the coffee that Alistair offered, noticing that he did not retrieve any for my mentees. Apparently he was really miffed by their attitudes before. “And, along with coordinating the event on your own…”

“Sophia, you’re joking,” Parvati glared.

“I am most certainly not,” I shook my head. “Every event, you have to read the feedback. You can filter it all you want, narrow down the categories, whatever. But I strongly recommend that you read all of the negative feedback if nothing else.”

“But you’ve always had help,” Hannah pointed out calmly.

“I did,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I ignored or delegated the important parts.  Having people who you trust to do a pulse check of what is being said unofficially is an extremely valuable tool. However, at the end of the day, the performance of the events, or the projects, or the staffing balances, comes right back to this office and only this office. I can listen to Tyche, or my partners, or other Councillors until my ears fall off. But if something went wrong, or could have been done better, I’m the one who catches fault for that. Which means, eventually, it will be one of you.”

With a deep breath, both women nodded and opened the files in question. After simply staring and scrolling for a few minutes, Parvati sat back and tapped the side of her chin. “Can we filter out all comments under five words and comments with only positive adjectives that do not contain a conditional statement?” She glanced at me and I nodded my approval.

That seemed to spark an idea in Hannah. “Prioritize comments including the words ‘dangerous’, ‘barbaric’, or synonyms of.” When her co-mentee gave her a quizzical look, she shrugged. “It’s good to have at least a count of people who object to the weapons exhibitions, and if they are just a small number at least there are guaranteed to be a few in there that are pretty funny.”

Parvati still looked like she wasn’t convinced, so Alistair spoke up. “If you do not enjoy the weapons exhibitions, why are you attending?”

“Ahhh,” she smiled. Clearly the thought had never occurred to her, which was entirely unsurprising.  Parvati hadn’t dated Xiomara as long as she did by harboring a secret grudge against self-defense and proper applications of force.

Now that they found a starting point for weeding through the feedback, it was clear they were engrossed in gathering information.  Periodically, I would hear one make a considering noise before jotting down a note to come back to later.  I quietly moved to my desk and observed how differently they handled the process - When I went through feedback with Alistair, we shared it on the table emitter so both could see.  Parvati and Hannah, however, sat across from each other, on their singular data pads, flicking particular pieces of information back and forth to each other without even glancing up.  The partnership they had developed over the last four years of working with me was astounding to watch.

“What you are feeling now is exactly what it feels like to watch you and Tyche,” Alistair murmured, startling me out of my reverie. When I glanced at him, he simply lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Even after working with you both for so long, there are moments where it is clear you both are working on some sort of wavelength the rest of us are not aware of.”

“Charly is pretty tuned in to it. And Arthur, when he wants to be.”

“Miss Harper is a force unto herself.” The corner of his mouth lifted in one of his rare, fond smiles. “As for Farro, I am beginning to believe that Reidish is one of the languages he learned for historical manuscripts.” Snark dripped from his tone out of old habit - if there had ever been any animosity between the two, it was long gone.

Although, apparently the hypothetical existence of ‘Reidish’ as a language was still bopping it’s merry way around the Ark.

“Noah,” I pointed out. “They understand us perfectly well.”

“Yes, let us all congratulate you two, not only on the fact that a mind-reading alien understands your communication better than your own species, but also on the fact that you have tainted them with your mannerisms.” The sarcasm would have stung, had he not felt the need to demonstrate by tipping his index finger and thumb over his eye in imitation of an eyebrow with one hand, while making a sock-puppet nod with the other - both of which were gestures Noah used as filler for human body language. The contrast between his words, the gestures, and the absolute deadpan expression on his face sent me into hysterics.

I didn’t realize we were being watched until Hannah’s voice broke through my laughter. “Derek actually taught them the eyebrow one.  That wasn’t Sophia or Tyche.  He started doing it because he can’t just lift one eyebrow, and Miys started mimicking him when they saw how useful it was to convey tone.” When Alistair only stared at her in disbelief, she huffed and turned to her datapad before flicking a recording to the table emitter.

Sure enough, there was Derek, adjusting Miys ‘fingers’ and repeating the gesture for them to imitate. After several adjustments of where the vomu was held, Derek seemed satisfied and flashed a double thumbs-up, which was returned in triplicate.  As the recording ended, Hannah turned back with the smuggest expression I had ever seen on her gentle face.

“I’ll be damned.” Alistair’s voice was soft with surprise and a hint of admiration.

“Hannah, how do you have that?” I asked, concerned for Derek’s privacy.

She waved me off. “Zach was doing routine security sensor testing, found that in the process, and asked Derek if we could keep a copy of it. Derek said it was okay, and asked for a copy for himself.” She shrugged. “I’d never seen him voluntarily touch someone that much before, and even without that, it was adorable.”

“I’m glad he knows you have it,” I sighed in relief. “But yeah, it makes sense, honestly.” Hannah nodded in agreement, while Parvati and Alistair were clearly waiting for an explanation. I started ticking off reasons on my fingers. “Miys is very careful of personal space because they know how large they are, and Derek hates having his space invaded without permission. Miys is never ‘too loud’ for Derek, or touches without permission, or even speaks to him without Derek speaking first. There’s no pressure for eye contact, even just in Derek’s head, because Miys doesn’t have eyes.”

“Your mind is a strange and wonderful place,” Alistair stated drily before turning to Hannah and Parvati. “I hope you two have been taking notes on it. I happen to know what your next event is, and you’re going to need that level of insight.”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Parvati did not even look away to pull up her calendar, dragging it into her line of sight. Her eyes widened suddenly.

“You have three months,” I pointed out.

She reached out and shook Hannah’s arm vigorously. “Han.”

A quick glance and a second horrified expression looked at me from the table.

“Three months.”

“Sophia.”

“You’ve both helped me with it, for at least the last four years.  And you said you wanted a challenge.”

They both groaned comically, but I struggled not to smile at their antics.  I knew they weren’t really as worried as they pretended to be.

Alistair leaned over the whisper again. “I thought Tyche was the evil one.”

That did get me to smile.

<< Prev   Masterlist  Next >>

[darklordriddle]

Hermione takes Tom on a rollercoaster for the first time 😈

TOM GETS SCARED TOO, OK?

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Hermione let out a strangled laugh, poorly attempting to hide her glee at his blatant disgust. She placed a hand on his warm, bare arm.

It was a sunny day in mid-June, and the sun was beating down on them in the afternoon heat. She had struggled to get him here—the amusement park, of all places—and she knew his patience to be limited with the hot weather, the muggle inventions surrounding them and most of all, her.

Hermione had bloody well begged him to come with her and her friends to the park, even resulting in her getting on her knees—she blushed at the memory, remembering the feeling of Tom’s fists in her curls as his hips thrust towards her open mouth—for him to begrudgingly acquiesce in a rare moment of weakness. She had to take advantage, after all, as it was incredibly difficult to get him to agree to anything—and fuck, if he wasn’t the most stubborn person she knew.

“I’m afraid not, mate,” Ron grinned from Tom’s other side, ramming an elbow into his ribs and causing Tom to exhale in a hiss. “This is a prime muggle experience.”

“You’d do well to keep your friends from touching me as well, Hermione,” Tom seethed, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose as he glared down at her. He completely ignored the ginger—as he had the entire way there—and pretended he didn’t exist outside the sole purpose to annoy Tom.

Ron simply rolled his eyes at the irrationally angry man, used to his constant stream of insults.

“Tom, it’ll be fine,” Hermione sighed, heading towards the queue up ahead and reaching blindly behind herself for his hand, smiling when he grabbed on, his large hand encompassing hers. “These go through rigorous testing each day. It’s safe.”

“You mean to tell me a wooden roller coaster is safe?” Tom growled, pulling back on her hand and bringing the group to a halt.

“You get this.. Sorted, Hermione,” Harry laughed, dragging a hand through his wild black hair. “Gin, Ron, Lav and I will go ahead and jump in line.”

“You do that,” Tom leveled a glare at him despite the effect being dulled by the sunglasses impairing the view to his narrowed eyes. His rigid jaw and frown managed to express his distaste, regardless. “Out of all the ideas you’ve had, Hermione, this has to be the worst.”

“It’s fun, Tom,” She sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek and his jaw loosened, albeit very slightly. “Don’t be so stubborn. I’m not willing to risk my life for a bit of fun.”

He snorted. “Debatable.”

“Dating you isn’t risking my life anymore, you know. You wouldn’t harm a hair on my head. You’ve gone soft.”

“Don’t test me, Hermione.”

“I’m simply quivering,” She laughed, the scowl on his face becoming more pronounced with each word that left her mouth.

“You’re lucky we’re in public,” He said softly, pulling her flush to his body and leaning his head down to whisper into her ear. “I’d like to teach you a thing or two about your insolence.” His breath tickled her shoulder and sent a shiver down her spine.

“As much fun as that would be, my lord,” She murmured, using the name he preferred in bed, “I’m afraid we’ve more important things to do—like honour your promise.” She winked as his jaw hung open.

“Minx.” He swatted at her arse as she pulled him forward once more.

“You love it.”

Tom merely shrugged his broad shoulders, and she accepted that as answer enough.

“Let’s skip this and get some cotton candy,” he raised a dark eyebrow suggestively, knowing her weakness for sweets. “My treat.”

“Tom, are you afraid?” She laughed, placing a hand on her chest in mock surprise. “I had no idea you were capable of feeling fear. Certainly, if you’re that worried, there are some kiddie coasters over to the left—”

“I—am—not—afraid.” He emphasised each word, bringing his face down to hers and lifting his sunglasses, placing them on the top of his head to glare properly at her. “If you insist on dying today, by all means, lead the way.”

“Certainly.” She curtsied, grabbing his hand and dragging him forward.

She would pretend as they reached the queue that she didn’t see his hands in tight fists, clenching and unclenching the entire way through.

As it was close to becoming their turn to board, she heard him mumble something unintelligible.

“What was that?” She asked, standing on her toes to hear him better.

He mumbled once more, and she pulled him down to her face, the crowd of people overwhelming her hearing. “You’ll have to speak up.”

“I said I can’t bloody well do it!” He snarled, covering his face with a large hand. She could see colour in his cheeks, and she was sure it wasn’t from the sun. “I can’t do it.” he said again, voice level.

“Let’s go,” She pulled him back through the line, and he kept his head held up, daring anyone who made eye contact with him to say anything, his eyes like daggers.

As they arrived at the entrance once more, she rubbed both her hands up and down his arms. He shook her off, placing the sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose, sneer in place.

“So you can’t ride a roller coaster,” She said, shrugging her shoulders. “No big deal.”

“You’re right. It isn’t a big deal. Whoever designed these death traps is bloody well mad if they think I’m going to willingly ride on an accident waiting to happen.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead as though a headache was forming. “Not a word to your friends, Hermione. If they find out, I’ll be forced to kill them. Especially the ginger.”

She muffled a laugh and nodded.

“Of course, Tom,” she said, grabbing his hand and rubbing comforting circles on the back with her thumb.

As they reunited with her friends, Tom kept his complaints to a minimum, forgoing conversation with the group entirely—and if anyone had any questions about it, they kept them to themselves, Hermione shaking her head vehemently anytime anyone tried to address him.

He preferred it that way.

[writingsbychlo]

home | thomas

word count; 15,944

summary; thomas is struggling to get over what happened, and he just needs a little help.

notes; this is just some cute stuff for my baby, because he needs it.

warning; PTSD, sad Tommy, he just needs a hug.

“Home,  a place that I can go, to take this off my shoulders, someone take me home.”

Thomas was a known hero around paradise, he was greeted with smiles, thanks, hugs everywhere he went. Even all these many months later, the effect he had on people’s lives had never been forgotten, but he couldn’t forget the effect it had on him.

More nights than not, he awoke with sweat dripping across his forehead and screams tearing from his lips. For the first month, everyone had ignored it, subtle looks of pity being shot his way or comforting pats on the back being given. By the time month two had rolled around, he’d began feeling guilty, noting how tired those who lived around him were becoming, and still, no one said anything. He was grateful for them ignoring it, nobody pounding on his door in the middle of the night or shouting at him, but he could clearly see what he was doing. 

So by month three, he’d moved himself a good mile away from everyone else. Built himself a new little hut near the shore and he screamed out his night terrors to his heart’s content, assuming they’d go away. By month five, Thomas had begun to fear he’d live with them forever, the images of Chuck dying, Minho being taken or Newt almost bleeding out, the pictures flashing behind his eyes every time he shut them. The boys had begun taking turns sleeping on the floor of his room, just to wake him up and comfort him when he started thrashing and shouting in his sleep. Newt had officially diagnosed him with PTSD, which hadn’t surprised him at all, he’d been musing with the idea for weeks, so to have someone else say it had been no shock at all.

By month seven, Thomas had grown tired of doing this to his friends, so he started laying awake at night, pretending to sleep until he’d convinced them he was okay, and they started coming less and less, and now, Thomas rarely slept. If he had a night terror, he’d run. He’d run for miles, until his lungs were burning and his legs aching, and then he’d turn around and drag himself back, before passing out for a few hours from exhaustion, before repeating the cycle. 

Everyone around him was happy, the community was thriving as the year marker rolled by and people began to feel at ease. Thomas was glad they were now secure enough to start going out and finding new people, others who needed help, needed saving and a sanctuary, he really was, but the expansion only increased his fear. 

Six months ago he’d safely been a good distance from anyone else, but now he could see other houses, with the rate their group was expanding, it wouldn’t be long before he was once again crowded, and once again keeping up the poor, innocent souls who had the misfortune of having to live around him. It had been a while since Thomas had actually joined the community, tending more to skirt around the edges, grab some food before everyone else in the morning and after everyone else at night, preferring his own sanctity. It wasn’t until late on a warmer evening that he finally saw his friend again, knowing it must’ve been at least a month since he’d spoken to anyone, a disapproving look on the blonde’s face as he entered the small stick hut, crates laying around with all of Thomas’ things in.

“I brought you some dinner, can’t bloody remember the last time I saw you eat a decent meal since WCKD, so here you go.” As if to punctuate his friend’s thoughts, Thomas’ stomach grumbled loudly at the sight and smell of the food, and the runner grabbed it, shooting his friend a grateful smile as he sat on his bed to eat it. “Not going to unpack, mate? You’ve lived here for a while now. Awful hard living out of boxes, don’t you think?” Newt wandered through the one-room cabin, picking up and putting down various items from boxes as Thomas chewed and watched him go.

“I did unpack. This is repacking.” His words were muffled around bites of food, crumbs spraying from his mouth and Newts eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at his friend, hands on his hips intimidatingly. 

“Repacking, eh? And where is it you’re going this time? Another mile from your friends? Two? Do you know how bloody hard it is to walk on this limp? Now that I’m not running for my life I quite like to keep off it, bloody painful it is, and trekking up here to see your sorry ass isn’t the highlight of my month, you know?” The speech left Thomas frozen, mid-chew, as he stared at his friend wide-eyed, wondering where the sudden outburst came from. Newt ran a hand over his face, but didn’t apologise, however, he let go of the breath he was holding and his eyes met Thomas’ with a gentler look in them. “Look, mate, I know it’s hard. You don’t think it was hard for me? For Minho? For any of the newbies coming in? But we’re only going to keep saving lives, keep expanding, and you can’t run away forever. We all need you, we need you back, not this shell of you that goes on runs in the middle of the night to wear himself out, or the one that locks himself away from us all and sneaks about to eat and shower. I want my friend back, Tommy.”

The words cracked Thomas’ heart, because he wanted nothing more than to do just that, be that person for all of them and himself, but he’d given it time, and he’d tried his best, and no matter what, he just couldn’t. “I-I want that Newt, but I don’t know how to be me anymore. I-I’m just this broken hollow thing left over from what happened.” Tears lined his eyes and he pushed the tray from his lap, gaze directed to the floor and he palmed at his eyes roughly, willing the water back. 

Crouching before the broken boy, Newt pulled his hands from his eyes until their gazes met, a soft smile on his lips. “I know, but there’s someone I’d like for you to meet. She’s been here a while now, and I think she’s been pretty desperate to meet you. She told me to give you her thanks, turns out one of those younger kids you saved in the last city was her little brother, the only family she had left, you should’ve seen the tears in that boy’s eyes when we brought her off the boat a few months back, would’ve made your day, Tommy.”

He let a small smile flick at his lips at the thought, a soft cooing leaving his lips as a warmth filled his chest at the idea of reuniting a family. 

“Told her she had to wait, though, had to tell you herself because you’d come out of this hut one day. She’s helped a lot of us, Tommy, she even helped Gally. I’ve never seen the boy laugh but let me tell you, he cracks up when he’s around her. She brings everyone together, she makes this place feel like home.” 

He mulled over the thought, knowing he’d have to leave sometime, and knowing the least he could do was give his friend this chance. He had no hope of it working, but he could do the very minimum and try, because he owed them all at least that. “Okay.”

“Okay? Well, Tommy, you’ve just made my day. We can talk more about it soon, yeah? You need some rest.” With that, his friend clapped him on the shoulder and stood, ruffling his hair before making his way on unsteady feet back to the main village, a slight pep in his walk as he left.

To say Thomas felt overwhelmed by the noise would be putting it lightly. He hadn’t been around so many people in almost a year, and he knew all eyes were on him. People were already coming up to him and greeting him, hugs and handshakes were given as he walked quickly through the crowds to get his breakfast. People were shocked to see him, probably thinking he’d just disappeared, but nothing could replace the look on Minho’s face as he spotted them at the table, the Asian boy’s jaw dropping as his fist hit the table, startling everyone else and shaking water cups. 

The scene brought a genuine smile to Thomas’ lips, for a split second, before all eyes turned to him and anxiety once again overtook him and he froze in his tracks a few metres from the table. “Thomas? You’re.. here! Like, at breakfast with us!” Gally had been the last person he’d expected to speak, but he shuffled down on the wooden bench, a large space opening between him and Brenda as his lips twisted up in a hint of a smile, his eyebrows raised in an offer to the seat, and surprising himself, his feet carried him forward to sit in it.

It wasn’t quite as bad as he’d expected, he felt comfortable to be back with his friends, welcome and warm, and most of all, he felt loved. “Not getting any food, Thomas?” Brenda nudged him and he bit his lip, shaking his head as he looked over to the queue of people, all bustling and lining up to get fed, his heart racing uncontrollably at the mere thought. 

“Leave him be, he’s made a massive step just coming down here. We’re proud of you, mate. Missed seeing you at the table.” Newt reassured him he was still welcome, Brenda backing off as everyone dug into the food on their plates, his eyes finding the table as he picked at a loose piece of wood. It wasn’t until a soft voice, a voice he didn’t recognise broke his thoughts that he glanced up, eyes widening at the sight of the girl before him as her gaze was focused on Newt.

Waves of hair sat around her shoulders, eyes practically sparkling as a younger boy stood behind her listening intently to Minho as he chatted, arms waving excitedly and the boy’s fingers were gripping his plate with such enthusiasm Thomas thought it might snap. His gaze rose to the girl once again, her eyes now on his and his breath hitched in his throat, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away this time. Her face held nothing but compassion, and she didn’t look at him with pity like everyone else did, or admiration, she wasn’t putting him on some podium and she wasn’t mentally coddling him like a child, she was simply smiling at him with care, and he decided he quite liked the way she looked at him.

Placing a plate down on the table, she pushed it across the table towards him, steam still rising from the fresh food and cutlery quickly followed, his eyes barely leaving hers to glance down at the meal before looking up to her once again. Her gaze was gone, however, her fingers ruffling Newt’s hair as she left, apple clutched in one hand as the young boy bid his farewells to everyone, following after her quickly. The smell of the food was getting to him and he picked up his knife and fork, glancing at the food wearily before tucking in.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Brenda muttered in his ear, and his sights met hers, mouth full but he nodded quickly, before stuffing more food into his mouth, body ecstatic to finally have such a good meal. 

“Didn’t think we’d see you so soon, Tommy, I was gonna’ come talk to you about getting started in a week or so.” Newt began, and the boy reached for a glass of water, swigging half the glass before replying.

“I felt like we should start now. It’s been a year, I owe you that, at least.” He confessed, the blonde’s eyes crinkling at the middle, but Minho spoke up before Newt could.

“You don’t owe us anything. You saved all our lives, on multiple occasions. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all still be running around the maze like headless chickens. We do it because you’re our friend and we care, not because you have any kind of debt to us.” The table was silent for a second, and all eyes on Minho. “Shut up and eat your food, shanks.”

“And there he is. Worried you were going soft for a second there, Min.” Newt teased, laughs echoing around the table and for perhaps the fourth time today, Thomas smiled. He was sure his cheeks were going to start aching if he kept it up, but he wouldn’t mind, because this is what it felt like to be cared about, to be loved. He felt safe with his friends, he enjoyed the sensation, but he couldn't quite help but feel like something was missing. 

Exhausted would be an understatement, if one were to describe Thomas. He’d stayed awake the entire night just to be awake at breakfast time, and to fight off any terrors or nightmares that may have arisen. By the time the sun was setting, he was anxiously sitting on his bed. Everything in his body was telling him to get up, to go for a rumour to do a workout, to do something to get him so tired that his body was quite literally too fatigued to possibly consider giving him any kind of horrifying experience while he was asleep. He was, however, suppressing that urge, for his friends, because the way he had felt today was better than he could ever remember feeling, and that was saying something. 

His fingers pulled at the edges of the blanket sitting below him, real pyjamas adorning his body for the first time in what felt like forever, instead of just collapsing in whatever sweaty gear he’d run in and changing in the morning, and his eyes flicked over all the re-packed boxes sitting around him. He wanted to unpack them, he really did, but he just didn’t see this thing with this miracle girl Newt had mentioned ever working out. He was truly glad she made his friends so happy, and she seemed to be the epitome of sunshine form the small glance he had caught of her at breakfast, but he didn’t see himself being able to conquer this problem, so why should he take everything back out of boxes if it was only all going to end up in boxes again in a few months. It really didn't seem logical to him.

He continued to look around desperately, for anything he could spend the night doing while the dark hours passed in order to avoid having to face sleeping, but he was torn quickly from his searching when soft rapping on his door sounded out, and he swallowed thickly. Nobody but Newt or one of the other boys ever came out here, and they always just let themselves in. 

With slow and cautious steps, he made his way over, slowly opening the door before him and peering around it carefully, his eyes widening as he looked at you. Your hair was blowing in the wind gently, a cardigan hugged tightly around your body, and until he’d interrupted you, you’d been staring off at the sun setting over the calm waves. When you looked at him, he felt that same feeling come charging back. You were smiling, somewhat nervously yourself, and he brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, opening the door slightly wider, just enough to wedge his body into the gap so he could talk to you.

“Hey, Thomas. I’m (Y/N).” He looked at you for a second, before nodding, choking down the lump in his throat as he held his hand out to you, nodding in a simple and silent greeting but your smile only widened at the act and you slipped your hand into his. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Your friends have told me a lot about you.”

His heart sunk, yet another person who wanted to ask him about WCKD, ask him all about the things he did or tell him just how brave they thought he was fo-

“Gally says you kicked his legs out from under him once. That’s pretty badass, he’s pretty large. I don’t think I could manage that.” He couldn't stop the laugh that broke free, he had never expected that to be the reputation of him that impressed someone, and he’d lost that memory under all the trauma, but pride and humour flooded his veins as you dug it back up for him so casually.

“I’ll be honest, it really hurt my leg. The boy is heavy and solid muscle, I think I hit him right on the bone, I had a nasty bruise on my leg the next morning.” He grinned, and your own laughter drifted around in space the two of you stood in, a blush rising to his cheeks at just how pretty you looked while smiling, and he ducked his head to cover it, clearing his throat slightly and getting his feelings under control before looking back up to you. “What.. um, what are you doing here?”

His face scrunched up on himself as he realised how rude that had sounded, but you didn’t seem to mind, and you shrugged slightly, your eyes finding his again. “I just thought maybe we could chat. I know Newt talked to you, he seems to think I’m some kind of happiness charm.” Thomas let his lips flick up in a smile, Newt wasn’t exactly wrong. He already felt happier and all he’d done was open the door. Looking back down at the empty path, his eyebrows rose. 

“You walked a mile up here for a chat?”

“I got to watch the sunset as I walked, it flew by. Besides, I have a feeling you’re worth the walk.” You promised, and that heat rose to his cheeks once again, his bottom lip clamping between his teeth as he thought about it. His fingers tightened around the edge of the door, holding it shut, your gaze left his for just a moment to flick up to his white-knuckled grip on the wood, before coming back down to his. 

“We don’t have to, I just thought it’d be nice. But if you do, we don’t have to do it inside. Your home is a private place, we could go for a walk or sit on the beach instead, if you wanted. It’s all up to you.” The calmness in your voice was nothing like the was his own shook when he talked, your tone was smooth and relaxed and his own jumped between pitches and frequency each time his anxiety spiked, and he would often just cut himself off mid-sentence altogether and just give up.

“No, no, it’s okay. You can- you can come in.” He waited for a second, looking at you before slowly opening the door, stepping out of your way as you took a tentative step over the threshold. You walked past him, and suddenly the house that had been perfectly fine to him moments ago seemed embarrassing now. He had boxes stacked high everywhere, overflowing with clothes and things he’d been given, most never touched or used, and the counters lay practically empty, save for the few things he was using regularly, and as he shut the door behind you he fumbled for a way to explain it all. “I-I don’t talk much, and I don’t get many visitors. I-I’m really sorry.”

His arms gesturing about the small spaces as he looked down at the floor, his hands falling to sit limply by his side and your own reached up, sitting on his forearm gently and you squeezed, just enough to comfort him before taking your touch away, and his fingers twitched at the loss. “I think you’re doing great.” Your simple statement made him feel infinitely better, and he let himself smile, still not bold enough to meet your eyes again as you took in the small place he lived. “You’re reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’? Good choice.” 

When his head snapped up, jaw open, you were running your fingers over the cover of the book that was sitting out, and he nodded shyly, your body finally turning to face him fully. “Y-You’ve read it?”

“Several times, actually. I took up home in a library for a while, once. Lived there for about a year. I must’ve read every book on those shelves.” You hummed, and his head tipped to the side. “‘Pride and Prejudice’ was one of my favourites. If you’re liking it, I could have a little look around and find you some other books that you might enjoy, if you’d like?” His head dipped in an eager confirmation as he nodded, enough confidence filling him to take quick strides across his room and take a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to do the same, and you thanked him as you settled yourself comfortably onto the mattress.

The moment you had asked him about the book, his mouth had opened and he hadn’t been able to stop the words from flowing. He surprised even himself about how chatty he was being, and you replied to him just as enthusiastically. After that, the topics had changed, he’s spilled anything from basic facts like his favourite colour to more stories from the glade that he thought you would find funny, his heart skipping a beat every time he heard you laugh. 

The two of you had started by sitting at separate ends of the bed to talk, and you had shifted regularly, the both of you nose sitting amongst the pillows with your backs pressed to the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles as they stretched out before you and he was chuckling amicably at himself as he showed you the sketches from his notebook. As he reached the last page, he smoothed his fingers over his most recent drawing, which was just a simple sketch of the mountainscape he could see from his bedroom window.

You ran your gaze over it, your lips parted as you looked at it, and he studied you carefully as you studied his art, and he decided, one day he’d rather like to draw you, if you’d ever let him. “This one is my favourite.”

“It is?” He mumbled, snapping his gaze away from you when you looked up from the paper pad to him, and you hummed in acknowledgement, your legs carrying you over to the window to peek out at the scene, holding his book up before your face and comparing them.

“It’s so good, I’m so impressed! This is.. amazing!” You turned back to him, and he took the book from you, his teeth flashing to you in a grin, and you stood before him, his legs swinging over the edge of the bed to face you as a comfortable silence took over the room. “I should probably get going now.”

The frown he was so used to wearing, made its first appearance in your presence as he looked at you, and his chest tightened slightly. “You’re going already?”

You giggled at his statement, his brows furrowing as you checked the watch sitting on your wrist. “Tommy- can I call you Tommy?” He licked over his lips, nodding at your words and you lit up at the confirmation, your happiness lifting his spirits back up slightly. “Tommy, you know it’s been almost four hours since I got here, right?” His eyes widened, flicking over to the window to see just how dark it had gotten. Thomas did not know it had been four hours, in fact, it felt like barely any time at all had passed, and his mouth was dry as he was at a loss for words. “We’ll hang out again soon, okay?”

“I think I would like that.” He whispered, and you held your hand out, rubbing his shoulder slightly as a goodbye, before pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. He watched you walk toward the door, and without a second thought, he tore out the final page of his notebook, standing and holding it out to you when the noise had caught your attention. “I want you to have this. This drawing. As a thank you.”

“A thank you?” Your words were spoken as a question and a bashful smile too over his face, his hands fiddling and twitching in front of him as you took the paper from him.

“I laughed more tonight than have in at least a year. Thank you for making me feel like my old self for a while.” You looked at him carefully, the room growing tense as you stared into his eyes, and he felt like you were reading his soul just from the tender look you gave him. With quite possibly the softest smile Thomas thinks he’d ever seen, your head tipped to the side. 

“I didn’t bring out the old you. Who you were tonight, that’s who you always are, you just need a little encouragement to let that side of you show.” He wasn’t too sure what to say, and you chuckled, leaning up and pressing your lips to his cheek softly. “Goodnight, Tommy. Thank you for my drawing, I love it.”

Before he could respond, you had gone from the door, leaving the wood in his grasp as he watched you set off in a crisp walk into the darkness, back toward the hut you lived in, in a colony with everybody else. Raising his fingers to brush his cheek, he found dimples there, the revelation that he was smiling, widely, crashing over him and he couldn't help it, backing away and closing the door.

That night, when he laid his head down on his pillows, Thomas could still faintly smell you around him and on the blankets, and he didn’t think about the fear of going to sleep as he drifted off that night. Instead, he thought about how proud Newt would be of him, and how he couldn't wait to spend more time with you if this is the feeling he got afterwards.

The heat of the next day woke Thomas, the light filtering through the window on the opposite side of the room, and he groaned, wiping at his eyes, still unaccustomed to waking up while it was light. His body was sore and achy from the tense fits of fear he’d had, but his throat didn’t sting from as much screaming, and he was more well-rested than he had been in a long time. The nightmare haunted him, but going to bed happy seemed to ease the pain, and he couldn't help but lie in his bed happily as he let himself adjust to the morning. 

When he eventually made his way down to the table, most of his friends had already arrived, but unlike yesterday, they had chosen a bigger table, and he had more choice of where he would like to sit. Newt was chatting to Sonya, the two of them deep in a conversation, and Gally was arm-wrestling Brenda across the table as Minho refereed the interaction. Slotting himself beside his blond friend, he was greeted happily, his hair being ruffled and despite the scowl that came to his face, Thomas laughed gently at the action. 

“Two days in a row, look at you go, mate. Here, you can have some of my food.” Newt could sense that he was still too timid to go up into the queue for food, and Thomas appreciated the gesture, and as he looked at the plate, he realised his British friend must’ve already anticipated hs actions, because exactly half of everything had been eaten, scraped neatly to one side of the plate as the knife and fork sat beside it and he shook his head fondly at the way the boy cared for him.

The sudden squealing in a youthful voice of Minho’s name came as a young boy came sprinting toward the table at high speeds. The kid could only be eight or nine, and his eyes widened as he watched the boy turf down the side of the hill at high speeds, and Minho struggled to free his legs from the bench as he stood up to greet him, sweeping the boy up into his arms in a hug. Raising his brows at the interaction, Minho’s brows raised as the boy grinned happily, squealing and twisting in the ex-runners arms as Minho tickled his sides before letting him down. “Guess what, Minho!”

“What is it?” Taking a seat again to continue his food, Thomas shovelled his own meal into his mouth as he watched on curiously, and the kid hopped up on the bench beside the dark-haired runner, straddling it with one leg dangling either side of the wood. 

“(Y/N) said I can spend the whole day with you until she gets back, if it’s okay with you!” Thomas almost choked on his food at the mention of your name, and as if on queue, you followed after the boy, cheeks flushed as you jogged up behind him, panting from the sudden exertion.

“Oh, she did, did she? Well, what do you want to do then?” He tuned out of their conversation as he watched you slow to a casual walk, your eyes moving over everyone on the table as you greeted them happily, before your eyes landed on his, and you picked up a slight pep in your step as you walked towards him with purpose. He froze, swallowing the mouthful of food he had loudly and awkwardly, wincing at the feeling and how it must’ve appeared, but you didn’t seem to care as you stood before him, and he looked up at you from where he sat.

“Guess what we’re doing today.”

“W-We’re doing something?” He cursed himself inwardly for just how awkward he had sounded while saying that, but you breezed over it, nodding enthusiastically as you rolled on the balls of your feet. “Well, what are we doing?”

“That’s a surprise. Just wait here, and I’ll be right back, okay?” He had barely given you a sign of acknowledgement before you were leaving the table, heading towards Frypan serving food in the kitchens and he watched you leave with raised brows. 

“Should be fun, hanging out with (Y/N) is always fun, so your first time will be a blast!” Brenda’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, shocking him slightly from his gaze and he looked away from you, turning to look at his food as he pushed the last few bites up onto the fork. 

“Not out first time hanging out. We hung out yesterday.” It seemed to be a collective shock, and Thomas avoided the looks his friends were sharing as he rolled his eyes at the plate before him. “We just talked for a while. It was nice. She makes me laugh.”

“You deserve to laugh, it’s good!” Gally assured, and Thomas wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this side of the builder, but he did really like not fighting with him all the time. He shot up a grateful look of acknowledgement, not bothering to reply as you neared the table one again, sealing up your backpack and swinging it back up onto your shoulders. 

With another squeeze on his shoulders, he was encouraged to his feet by his friends when you asked is he was ready to go, and he congratulated himself when he made it to your side without stumbling over his own feet. Normally, he spent the day reading, or drawing, or doing a workout inside after eating, and it was normally night. Now, he was avoiding the looks he was being given by everyone around him, none bad, but they were simply surprised to see him up and about and interacting. 

You had already struck up a conversation, and as you began to deviate from the well-worn ground of the camp to lesser trekked passages into the wildlife, his eyebrows rose, and he turned to look at you curiously. It was only another minute or two before he realised the route you were taking, he would recognise this scenery any day, and casting his gaze out, he realised you’d already begun to gain some height, the roof of his own cabin being revealed to him in the near distance, and he could see through the window.

“You’re taking me up the mountain I drew.” He whispered, and your smiling face turned or him, nodding happily as he caught on and he couldn't stop the enthusiasm that began to rush through him. 

“If you think it looks beautiful from the bottom, wait until I show you the view from the first ridge, that’s where we’re stopping for lunch.” He laughed lightly at your words, looking out ahead of him as the two of you slowly began to disappear into the beautiful surroundings, the camp disappearing away below him with every step until it was a mere spec down on the beachfront. 

They seemed to go for hours, and though Thomas was used to physical exertion, he was more used to quick bursts of running, and on flat ground, the rocky passes of the hills and the long-distance trekking had him sweating as the soon got higher in the sky and the day moved on, bringing higher temperatures with it. He was sweating, a thin layer coating his brow and his pants mixed with yours in the warm air as the two of you continued your journey.

He was almost grateful when the two of you finally came to a stop, but he was breathless in an entirely different way as you finally stopped moving. You trekked forward into the space and Thomas could barely move for the sheer beauty of it. He could see from one end of the large island to another. He could see right down over the miles and miles of treetops they had walked through, birds and animals flying and leaping between them, the shade of the trees around him were giving him enough shade from the sun above that he didn’t need to squint as he looked out at the wildlife, the beach seeming so far away as everything suddenly fell into perspective, and he had a sneaking feeling you’d done it on purpose.

Everything felt so large up here, and he felt small. He felt reassured. Unless you knew your way up here, you’d never find it. Not even his friends would be able to find him up here, never mind WCKD or anybody that would want to hurt him again, and there was nothing for the miles and miles that the glittering sea stretched out toward the horizon.

The area they were standing on was beautiful. It wasn’t quite the top of the mountain, another mile or so winding up steeper pathways would need to be done to reach the summit, but you had brought him to the best-shaded area, a spot you clearly came to often as you confidently walked toward a spot, dropping your bag from your shoulders and leaning it against the trunk of a tree. 

You pulled a blanket from inside, laying it out on the grass, and laying out the wrapped pieces of food you had brought. He was stuck, fascinated as he looked out at the stunning view you had shown him. You never rushed him once, letting him take his time, just looking out and coming to terms with the place he lived, and the thing she was seeing around him. When he was finally ready to sit down, he made his way over to you, your eyes closed as you lay out on the blanket, your shoes toed off as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin. 

“Why did you bring me here?” You cracked a single eye open to look at him as he followed suit, leaning himself back against the trunk of the tree, kicking his shoes off of aching feet with a happy sigh. “Not that I’m complaining, this is incredible. It just seems.. almost.. personal, I guess.” 

“You gave me a gift, something personal of yours, that you shared with me. I wanted to share something with you, that nobody else knows about.” 

He glanced down at you, your eyes closed again and you missed the small smile he gave you as he took in your relaxed state. “You’ve never brought anybody else up here before?” You shook your head, never looking at him, as though it was the most casual thing in the world. “So, why me?”

“You’re special, Tommy.” You didn’t give him any further explanation, but he blushed at your words, and he tried to hide his red face as you sat up, opening up the wrapped food you brought with you, before handing a sandwich to him, his mouth watering as he looked at the food. “Frypan said chicken sandwiches were your favourite, so I got you that one.”

He had already taken a large bite of the food when he nodded enthusiastically, cheeks full as he tried to speak his ‘thank you’ around his food, his mouth full and words muffled, but the giggle you let out told him you’d heard him just fine, as you opened your own food and dug in. You had also pushed an apple and a piece of cake over to him, a bottle of water sitting between the two of you as you ate in silence, looking out over the place you called home, the squawking seagulls happily filling the empty space for sound. 

You had even been quiet when you had finished eating, as you lay back down, his arm was propped under his head, his eyes staring up at the sunlight that was flittering through the gaps in the canopy of the tree above you both. Your own head was resting on his elbow, your hair brushing against his cheek each time you moved, and for the first time in a long time, he felt content.

“I never got to thank you, Thomas.” You eventually mumbled, and he turned his head to the side, his nose bumping against your temple from your close proximity, and he huffed lightly, his breath blowing across your face, before he redirected his gaze to the leaves above his head. “I know you were looking for Minho, and I know finding my brother and all those other kids was just circumstances, but you saved him, and you brought him back to me. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life alone in a library, and now, I have friends, and a family.”

“He seems very close with Minho?” Thomas eventually responded, and you let out a laugh, a sound of agreement leaving you. 

“He said Minho would look after him when they were locked up. Minho’s cell was the one across the way from his. He said Min used to pull funny faces through the glass for him, and would always tell him it would be okay when the lot of them were rounded up for tests. Minho was the older sibling he had when I couldn't be there for him, I guess.” You chuckled sadly at the end of your sentence, the quiet fading back in around your both. “This is where I like to come to think, and that's why when I saw your drawing of this mountain, it was my favourite.”

“I’m really happy you brought me here. It’s incredible, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see anywhere this beautiful, or have enough time to stop and enjoy it.” 

“Well, there’s a lot of other places I can show you, if you’d like to see some more?” You offered, sitting up and pulling your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, his hand twitching by his side with the wish to reach out, and so he did, his fingertips trailing along your arm slowly from where he lay, your head twisting to look at him over your shoulder, a soft smile on your face. 

“I would like you to show me everything there is in life, I think I’m ready to start living it.”

He was desperate to get back out there and do something with you. His friends had already commented on his change in mood, when Thomas had started joining in with the conversations at the table. He didn’t speak much, but he added his opinion, and he laughed at jokes. He was confident enough to lift his head and actually look at the people sitting around him, instead of trying to make himself as small as possible.

For the first time in a long time, Thomas didn’t mind being seen by the people around him. 

Each day when he woke up, he found himself looking up at the peak of the mountain he could see, remembering the view he’d been given, and how different things could look from different perspectives. Today, was different, though. He was practically buzzing with excitement from the second your little brother had been seen zooming between the tables to find his older friend, his arms wrapping around Minho’s neck from behind in a hug, and he knew any minute now, you would be making your appearance. 

He was shocked at his own eagerness. This time two weeks ago, the only space that felt comfortable was his own bedroom, and now, he was starting to get antsy if he didn’t expand further than his own hut to the kitchens and back. He wanted to explore, he wanted to see more, do more, be more.

His thrill was bubbling over as he watched you calmly making your way toward the group, your bag sealed on your back again as you braised your hair behind your back as you walked, your eyes catching Thomas’ in a wink, his teeth flashed to you as he smiled. He didn’t need any encouragement from his friends this time, he was on his feet on his own, meeting you halfway up the path, and he didn’t care about all the eyes of his friends on his back as he met you, and he didn’t bother hiding the pep in his step.

“Hi, Tommy. You’re bright today?”

“Hm, and you’re like sunshine. Are we doing something today?” He pressed, a laugh falling from your lips at his urgency, his hands gripping yours desperately as you hummed, pretending to think it over as he whined impatiently, and eventually you caved and laughed. 

“Yes, we are. Do you not like just hanging around the camp? A little too boring for you?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“You promised to show me everything there is in life, and so far, all I’ve seen is the camp.” He huffed, jokingly, and you beamed. 

“There’s a lot more to life than sights, Tommy. I’m going to show you everything, in time.” He whined again at your response. “You have a whole life to enjoy everything now, Tommy, nothing is a rush anymore. Let me show you how to take things slow.” His jaw hung open, and you pushed a finger under his chin to close it. “Why don’t you go and pack us a lunch, and I’ll meet you in a minute?” 

With a nod, Thomas had bolted off, watching as you made your way over to your little brother, your words from the summit echoing in his mind as he watched you kiss the top of the boys head, thanking Minho for caring for him for another day. Frypan helped him, a grin on the boy’s lips as he looked between Thomas and you, but he didn’t care about his heated cheeks now, and he thanked his friend for the food, and the subtle extra rations he’s packed for you both. Clutching the food in his hands, you were weaving between the tables. 

With an open bag, you let him stuff all the food in, before sealing it carefully. Before you had lifted it up, he had taken it from you, slinging it up onto his own shoulders and adjusting it on his back. “You carried it last time, it’s only fair I carry it this time.” He shrugged off the act, letting you lead the way as you headed off on your next journey. 

This time, you had spent a few hours walking through the thick forestry of the island. It was a whole different kind of incredible, the from the flowers that littered the ground in fields and meadows to the animals he caught sight of as they went along, and you would point them out, telling them the names and little fun facts you’d learnt about them from all the reading you had done during your alone time in the scorch.

When you reached your final destination, however, he was torn for a favourite between this one and your last one. The pool of blue water before him looked so tempting that he just wanted to dive in headfirst, ripples spreading out across the surface from the waterfall that was crashing loudly from so far above, water spraying up as the sun trickled through the tree canopy in certain spots, lighting up the whole area with a certain transcendental glow.

You looked around the area, settling on a spot to set up camp as you took his hand gently, pulling him over to the shaded spot, and he placed the bag down, leaning it against the tree. He could feel the cool air coming from the force of the water cascading down from above, but it wasn’t quite close enough for the spray to get onto the bag, and he knew it was the perfect place to sit. 

You didn’t sit, however. This time, when you toed off your shoes, your socks followed, being tucked into the sneakers you had discarded. “I’m gonna’ swim.” Before he had a chance to question it, you were tugging your shirt up and over your head, the shorts you were wearing soon dropping to the floor to join your pile of clothing and he averted his gaze, heat travelling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. The sound of your feet moving away from him sounded out, and you were trailing up the edge of a rock, not too high, but enough to jump into a deeper section of the pool as you looked over carefully.

“Wait!” He had called out to you before he could stop himself, and you turned to look at him, wobbling on the edge of the rock as he stopped you a split second before you jumped, and he was pulling his own top over his head, struggling to stop himself down to his boxers in a hurry as his forgotten clothes mixed with yours in a heap on the grass, his feet carrying him across the warm stone to stand beside you. “I want to swim too.”

His words were mumbled shyly, sure he just made a fool of himself in a bid to get his clothes off, but you smiled at him, your hand held out to him, and he took it tightly. You offered him a count of three, and he took it, his nerves crawling back as he remembered the last time he had jumped into water, his eyes on the pool below changing as images of the deep and freezing water of the last city flashed in his memory. With a deep breath, he pushed down the fear, your hand only tightening around his as he pushed off from the rock, falling for only a second, before he was plunging into the water below.

Everything about this experience was different, and he loved it. 

The water didn’t stab at him, a thousand tiny needles as the freezing temperature swept over him, but instead it was warm, like being wrapped in a blanket, and your hand in his reassured him, his legs kicking to drag himself up to the surface. He emerged just a second before you did, gasping for breath and using his free hand to smooth back the hair that was sticking to his forehead, pushing it back and away in messy styles up his head as you emerged from below. 

You were laughing, water trickling down your skin as you wiped the water from your eyes, kicking your legs beside his to stay afloat, and your touch never left his, your joint hands floating on the surface of the water between the two of you. You twisted, rolling onto your back and bobbing on the surface of the water, limbs spread out like a starfish, and he followed suit, the two of you floating in the pool with the ripples, the sound of rushing water being the only sound to fill the air.

“This is nice.”

“Just nice?” You questioned, your gaze finding his as you tugged on his arm, angling the two of you better until you were floating side by side, your shoulder and the length of his arm brushing against yours.

“No. It’s surreal.” He paused, taking a few deep breaths and rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he thought about his words. “I don’t feel like I’m really here. I feel like.. like I’m going to wake up at some point, in some WCKD lab being tested on. That none of this is real. That you’re not real.” His words trailed off in a whisper and you were quiet beside him for a moment, and he panicked, trying to backtrack out of the conversation when he felt the water beside him stir.

You were stood up, your feet only just reaching the bottom as you stood, the water lapping around your upper ribs and you pulled him toward you, guiding him into the same position. Your hand left his, trailing up his arm, as your other hand copied, until both your hands were cupping his cheeks. His lip trembled as you held him with nothing but pure adoration and compassion, tears lining his eyes. 

“I miss Chuck, and Winston. I miss my friends, and I can always see their faces in my mind but I’m starting to forget what their voices sound like.” His voice cracked toward the end of his sentence, a hot tear leaking from his eye and you were quick to wipe it away with your thumb. 

“It’s okay to cry here. It's okay to cry with me.” You assured him, and he felt the lump in his throat building. The moment the first tear had fallen, more were following, and soon his chest was heaving up and down as he struggled to breathe, loud sobs falling from his lips as his eyes closed. His hands found your hips, and you let him pull you closer until his forehead was resting against yours, your hands holding him as he shook, and spilled everything that was bringing him pain.

He told you every single name of everybody who he had met and lost along the way, having memorised each face and name. He sobbed about his fears, and how he tried his best but it just didn’t seem like enough and how he would’ve done things differently had he a second chance. By the time he’d finished spilling his heart out to you, his face was buried into your neck as he tried to calm his whimpers, and his arms were wrapped so tightly around your waist, your chest pressed so tightly to his that water no longer moved between you as two separate beings, but as one, around you both. 

Your fingers were running through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp as you shushed him softly. Despite the sadness that had come over him, he felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, like suddenly it was taken from his shoulders. He’s confessed his deepest, darkest worries and thought and now they were out in the open he felt like light was beginning to fill those crevices. He felt like he could breathe again. 

Walking him backwards gently, he let you move his body, his face adjusting on your shoulder until his nose was nuzzling against bare skin, because for this moment, while you held him as tightly as he was holding you, he didn’t feel the stress of the world, or the pressure of being the boy who took down WCKD, or even of the greenie that killed a griever. When you held him, he just felt like Thomas, and he wasn’t ready to let that go just yet. 

The water moved further and further down his body the further you moved him, until it was barely lapping his toes, and the soles of his feet were moving against warm and dry rock. Your hands slipped to his cheeks, pulling his face back until he was looking at you and you wiped your fingers under his eyes carefully, clearing away any last tears. Dropping from his sight, you tugged him down, water running from both of your bodies and back to the pool as you laid out on the warm stone.

His legs buckled under him from the exhaustion of his emotions and he laid down gently beside you, his head tilting to the side as he looked at you, licking over his lips as he tried to build up the courage to ask the question he so wanted to ask. It took him a minute, and a lot of false starts, but you waited patiently, and he smiled lightly, closing his eyes for a moment. “Will you please hold me?”

When he opened them again, you had rolled onto your back, your arms held out for him as you wiggled your fingers and he shuffled forwards, his cheek resting on your shoulder as your arms closed around him. One of his arms slung across your waist, the other resting above his head as he ran his fingers through your hair, the same way yours were doing to him, and he toyed with the loose strands that had slipped free from your braid. 

Your eyes had fluttered closed, but your hold remained on him, leaving soft and reassuring touches on his skin occasionally. He had the bravery to let his own eyes close, and though sleep never came, he wasn’t scared of his own mind for once, because Thomas quickly realised that the feel of your arms around him grounded him more than anything ever had, and you would be there to help him, no matter what flashed in his mind.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but by the time he finally felt better, your hair had dried and there were no longer trails or water on the rocks, but his stomach was growling, and the sun had moved far from the place it had held overhead, and was instead, was heading towards the horizon as the colours in the sky changes into pastel shades. 

You had a layer of goosebumps on your skin from the air becoming cooler, and he shifted, your eyes cracking open to watch him as he stretched out, spreading himself out like a starfish on the rock. You eased yourself up onto your feet, pulling your braid loose and shaking it free, your hair falling in ripples down your back. You held your hands out to him, and he whines as he took them. 

“Can’t we just stay here forever? I like it here.” You pulled him to his feet, laughing as he spoke, and you shook your head, making your way over to your clothes and picking through the pile to find yours. 

“There’s a lot more to see yet, a lot more to do, a lot more to experience. We can’t do it all here.” He grumbled under his breath, tugging his own clothes on, and grabbing the bag, rooting through it for his long-forgotten lunch. He handed your’s to you too, and the two of you stood under the trees, enjoying your lunch and chatting aimlessly as you ate, enjoying the last of the sights before you were ready to head back.

When that time eventually came, the sun was sinking low, a golden hue cast over everything and making it seem entirely different than it had in the regular light. As you began the walk back, he’s been bold enough to skin his fingers down the inside of your arm to hold your hand, and you’d laced your fingers with his instead, your shoulders bumping and brushing as your fingers remained intertwined for the whole journey.

He was happy to be home after a long day, but the closer the two of you got to the camp, the more his stomach began to sink as he realised that his time with you was ending, and when you finally emerged from the shrubbery and plantlife and back into what they would term civilisation, his feet became rooted to the spot, his hand still holding yours tightly and tugging on your arm to bring you to a stop.

“W-Will you stay with me for a little longer? We could watch the sunset?” 

“I’ll stay with you as long as you’d like, Tommy.” Your thumb rubbed over his knuckles, tugging him back into motion gently as you walked together toward the huts. “Let me go and get my brother ready for bed, and then I’ll come and find you, if you want to choose us a spot to watch from?”

“I’ll see you soon, then.” You leaned up, pressing another kiss to his cheek before pushing your bag down his shoulders, taking it with you as you moved toward the collection of huts all sitting in the middle of the encampment. He had chosen a spot on the grass, looking out over the water, and the area around him had begun to grow quiet when he finally heard you approaching.

Your footsteps were light, and he turned his head to look up at you, a large blanket wrapped around your shoulders for warmth. When you reached him, you took it off, draping it over his cold skin and he held an arm out for you, letting you tuck yourself back under the blanket. His hand slipped down along your side, sitting on your waist and his cold fingers slipped under the edge of your shirt to sit on the warm skin of your waist as you huddled together, your head resting on his shoulder. 

Shades of orange and pink fanned out across the sky in a way that looked almost like a painting, before fading into purples and blues, the deep ebony of the sky coming in as stars twinkled above the two of you. When Thomas finally tore his gaze away from the sky, he found your eyes closed, and he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, your breathing slow and steady, and he realised you were asleep. 

He rested the top of his head against yours for a second, biting at the inside of his cheek to hold in the smile that wanted to break through. Warmth was filling his body and he used his free arm to shrug the blanket off from around you both, before scooping you up under your legs and lifting you to his chest. 

He walked as steadily as he could, weaving between cabins as he tried to remember which one had been yours, and he nudged the door open with his foot gently. The empty room was dark, but the moonlight coming in from the clear night sky was enough to guide him as he placed you on top of your covers gently. Taking your shoes from your feet, your body shifting sleepily as he tried to pull the blankets out from under you, your hand reaching out to find his and he lifted it for you, your fingers lacing with his as you pulled your joint hands to your chest happily. 

“You can stay if you’d like. You don’t have to walk all the way home. You can stay with me.” You mumbled out your words, pressing a kiss to his knuckles gently and he reached behind him, but he hesitated at your offer. He wanted to, he really wanted to, but he couldn't ruin your sleep like his own was always ruined. “I’ll hold you through your nightmares, it’ll be okay.”

With a soft sigh and a kiss to your knuckles, he was kicking your door shut and toeing off his own shoes before easing himself down onto the bed beside you. The second he let his head hit the pillow, your own head found a place on his chest, your legs wrapping between his as your snuggled into him, and he held onto you tightly. Leaving a lingering brush of his lips against your hairline, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

For the first night in over a year, Thomas had a dreamless sleep. No terrors, no nightmares, nothing.

He was shocked or wake up in the morning and find you still curled in his arms in the same way, and that he was more rested than he ever had been. The second you had woken up and asked him about the smile on his face, he’d told you about his progress, and you’d been just as happy as he was. In his joy, he let it slip just how cute he thought you looked with a messy bed head and the morning sun rays around you, both of you blushing as he let the confession slip. He refused to leave the bed, instead, he held you tightly to his chest until your hunger for food had become too much and you’d forced him to release you so you could get up.

He watched you move about, stretching your body out in the morning and finding yourself a fresh set of clothing to wear, the ones you had slept in becoming uncomfortable on your skin now. “You staying here or are you coming to breakfast?” He teased, and when he made no effort to move, you held your hand out to him, your fingers spread out invitingly for him to sleep his own between, and with a groan, he forced himself up. 

The second his shoes were on and his fingers laced with yours, you’d been moving him toward the table. That day, he was bold enough to queue up for his own food, your hand in his giving him the confidence to do so. That afternoon, your brother had approached him, asking Thomas if he wanted to join his team to play soccer against some other kids, and he’d accepted. 

That night, after you had bid your brother could night and returned to your own cabin, you’d allowed him to crawl under the sheets with you again, slipping into a dreamless and peaceful sleep. As the weeks turned into months, and more time passed them by, and Thomas found himself spending less and less time in his own hut, but found more and more of his things appearing. He’d stopped taking his laundry and belongings back to the place he barely visited now, and instead simply unpacked them into your drawers with your clothes. 

The day he came home to find you wearing one of his shirts as pyjamas, was the day his heart stopped in his chest for a few seconds as he looked at you. It was also the day he began to wonder, if home really meant a place, or if it might be a person to him instead.

Thomas wasn’t really a jealous person. He knew you didn’t want to date Gally, but up until now, the most time you had both spent with anyone else was for mealtimes, or walking on the beach with your brother. 

But, as the safe haven grew bigger, a couple of the adults had realised that a lot of these kids had been taken and put into mazes and experiments before even learning basic things. All the younger kids had started attending classes, learning to read and write, learning their history and some basic survival skills. Now he was active and around, Thomas had started working to chip in like everyone else. He helped Newt in the gardens, and helped clear land to build more homes. 

For the first time ever, their whole group was free for a day, your brother was attending his classes and making new friends his own age, and he knew you were just being friendly, but he couldn’t help but want all your attention on him. You were chatting and laughing with the boy he could now call friend, but now he was standing along as everybody else interacted and thought about the plans for the day, but Thomas didn’t want anyone else right now, he wanted you.

As though reading his mind, you never turned away from your conversation, but you must have felt his burning and longing gaze on you, because your arm lifted from your side, stretching out in his direction as you flexed your hand at him, the same way you always did when you were telling him it was okay for him to hold your hand. With hurried steps, he stumbled to your side, both of his hands holding yours and he gave Gally a polite smile before pressing a kiss to your temple in thanks. 

He felt better, because you were giving him attention even when you weren’t giving him attention. 

He knew he couldn't occupy your time all the time, that wasn’t how things worked, but he liked to have all the time he could get, because he would happily give you every single second of every single day of his time if you’d let him. But, that’s not what life was. Life was knowing yourself better than anyone else, and it was knowing that the only person who had to spend every moment with you, was yourself. That life was nothing, if you couldn't love yourself.

You had taught him that, and you had taught him to love himself. He was proud of who he was, and he no longer looked back in negativity. As the year so far had passed you had taken his worries and regrets and crafted them into something beautiful. You had made them into something he was proud of, something he could look back on with fondness and nostalgia, and miss those he had lost without feeling like he had failed, and he would never be able to repay you for giving him his life back.

Nuzzling his nose against your hair, he held onto you tightly, enjoying the warmth of your side as his front pressed up against you. Your conversation with the other boy continued on for a while, but he waited patiently, and when it finally finished, he was quick to land hands on both of your hips as turn you towards him. Sliding his hands around your back to meet in the middle, he laced his own fingers behind you, pulling you closer to him until he could prop his chin on the top of your head. 

His fingers were weaving through your hair, and he was happy just holding you, until Newt’s voice called out to the both of you; “We’ve settled on spending the day at the beach. Are you coming or what?”

You glanced up at him, and he looked between you and his friend, nodding in response and you cheered happily, breaking away from his grasp to high five the blond boy as you told him just how much you loved the beach. When you returned to him, your hands had found his shoulders, propelling yourself into the air until your legs were wrapping around his waist from behind, your arms circling his neck and he chuckled at your actions, his hands coming down to grip your thighs as he adjusted you on his back. 

You had clung to him for the whole walk down to the beach, mumbling comments and jokes in his ear as you went, keeping his mood light and peppy. It was a hot day, the end of the summer and yet the heat was still dragging out, the sun burning overhead as the boys set up a makeshift set of nets, a soccer ball that had been washed up on the beach.

By the time lunch was rolling around, the girls had long since decided to tan in their swimwear, and the boys had stripped off their shirts in the heat, having abandoned their soccer match to lie on the sand. Thomas did a lot with his friends, and he almost felt bad for himself for having missed all this fun the year before, but the year before, he was still stuck in his bad dreams, and a year before, he hadn’t met you yet.

He was always close though, you were always within his sights, no matter what you were doing, and he’s watched you lay and tan as the sea had pulled out on the shore, and then he’d watched you explore rock pools and pick out shells you liked until the tide was coming back in. As the sea came in deep enough that you wouldn’t reach the rocks, you and the other girls had gone swimming, standing happily in the waves and gossiping. 

You were too far away now, he still had his feet on the dry sand while you were more than waist-deep in the sea. Luckily for him, Minho had decided to break up your girl chatter, racing into the sea aggressively and making as much splashing as he could as fast as possible. He could hear Sonya’s angry shouts from here, Harriet and Brenda both splashing him back aggressively as you cringed away from the saltwater in your face, and he smirked as he watched you back away from the boy, only for Newt to join him, and soon, he was following the boys into the water.

He could barely see through the splashing going on around him now, saltwater flying up from every angle in a blinding wall but he followed the sound of your laugh, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind and shielding you, turning you away from the ruckus, your laugh bubbling against his chest as you shook in his arms with your giggles. His lips found your cheek in a wet kiss, and he cringed as he pulled away. 

“You taste like the sea.” 

“Well I’m wearing half the ocean thanks to Minho.” You joked, and Thomas spun you in his arms. 

“Want a bit of revenge?” You nodded happily, and he mumbled a plan to the two of you, before quickly dunking under the water. You waited, the Asian boy screaming out in shock as he was suddenly lifted from the water, his legs dangling from Thomas’ shoulders as the boy emerged from under the water and he fell backwards from his perch, hands flailing as the group laughed, Minho spluttering once he emerged. 

“You’re so dead, Thomas! Newt, get on my back!” The blond boy didn’t have to be told twice, and Sonya squealed, hopping up onto Aris’ back as Brenda jumped up onto Frypan’s, Harriet lifting her hands and backing away in surrender and Thomas turned to you with a cheeky grin. 

“We can take ‘em.” 

“Yeah, we can!” You yelled, and he crouched down, your legs sealing around his waist once again as your splash battle took off. Water was tossed and thrown, bodies falling back into the water and reappearing on repeat, until everyone had swallowed enough water and was wearing enough seaweed to call it a truce. You were still sitting behind him, picking seaweed and grit out of his hair happily as the temperature of the eater began to catch up to you. 

The sun was sinking toward the place the sky met the land and the chill was beginning to sweep in. Twisting in his grip, he released your thighs, expected you to slide to the ground, but instead, you swivelled around, your arms tightening around his waist in the water and your arms around his neck as you looked at him now. 

His hands circled your back, pulling you closer to him, the breath between you shared. “Did you have fun today, Tommy.”

“One of the best days of my life.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and relishing in the low giggle he earned for the action. His hands smoothed up along the skin of your back, playing with the strap of your bra before sliding back down, his fingers tingling as he touched you, his forehead resting on yours. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. You changed my life.”

“I didn’t change anything. I just showed you how to make the most of the one life you get.” You shivered in his grasp, and he began to walk the pair of you back towards the shore, your legs dropping to walk on your own when the water dipped below your waist, and his fingers found yours to weave them together. As the sky darkened and the light faded away, your group made their way through the crowds to the showers to wash off the sand and salt, and he finally let you go as you stepped into one of the cubicles. 

When he emerged, you were still showering, and he changed quickly, racing down to the kitchens, water still dripping from his hair as he joined the dinner queue. Vince served him two bowls of soup, and two portions of bread, commenting on how nice it was to see him and he made the walk back up to the showers to meet you, only to find them empty when he arrived.

He panicked, he didn’t want you to think he’d left you, and he made the quick route to the cabin the two of you now shared, trying not to spill the hot food on his hands as he moved. When he opened the door, you had changed into one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, and you were lighting candles delicately as he burst through the door. In your shock, you had dropped the match to the floor, the stick putting itself out and you grumbled, picking it up carefully and disposing of it. 

“I just went to get soup!” He panted, and you chuckled, making your way over to him and taking one of the bowls. 

“I see that, honey. Why are you stressing out? You haven’t been stressed for a long time.” His heart warmed at the pet name you reserved just for him when the two of you were alone, and he shrugged carefully as he sat down with his own meal. 

“I don’t know. I wanted to surprise you but you were gone from the showers, and I just panicked, I guess..” You looked at him with a soft gaze, swallowing your food and continuing to eat in happy silence. He was no longer shocked by your ability to calm him so quickly, instead, he found comfort in it.

He had long since realised that he would never be able to live without you, you were everything to him, and you didn’t even know it.

He had gone to return to dishes, dashing through the calm and cool night to put them back, and when he’d returned, you were already tucked into the pillows, candles blown out and blanket peeled back for him. He took his place on the usual side of the bed, and instead of turning you back to him as you usually would so he could pull you close to his chest, you faced him. 

Your hand came up to rest on his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone carefully. “I have to tell you something, but I don’t want you to panic.” You whispered, voice carrying in the darkness and his heart rate sped up, a nervous chuckle leaving him. 

“That’s like asking a dog not to bark.” He muttered, but the air was tense around you both. 

“It’s been a while since anyone did a supply run, a good few months. We need more stuff and we have been building so strong, we have the capacity to save more people, now.” He didn’t like where this was going, and he reached up to hold your hand over his cheek, squeezing tightly as his heart raced. “Vince asked me if I would go with them.”

“Please tell me you said no?” He questioned, but the silence in the air answered for him, and he heard himself sniffle in the darkness, your cooing following, as he tried not to cry. “I don’t want you to go. I can’t come with you.” He wished with everything he had that he could go with you to look after you, but despite how much he processed it, he knew he couldn’t talk you out of it just like he could never go back there. “When do you leave?”

You sighed, the question hanging over him for a second and the longer it was before he got a reply the heavier his heart felt. “The day after tomorrow.”

“F-for how long?” His voice was croaky, and he let a single tear slip from his eye and drip into the pillow below his head, sniffling deeply to push down how he felt. 

“About a month.” He brought your hand to his lips, pressing shaky kisses to your palm, and the tips of each finger as he thought about the situation. You should move the rest of you things in while I’m gone. If we’re bringing more people back, we’ll need all the huts we can get, and you haven��t been back there in weeks. I don’t want you to close in on yourself just because I’m gone, honey.”

“I won't, I promise.” He wiped at his eyes, shuffling closer to press his lips to your forehead tenderly, before holding you there, your arms wrapping around each other. “I’ll go to breakfast and dinner every single day, I swear it. And, I’ll do extra work with Newt in the gardens, to fill my time. I’ll spend time with your brother, he wants to build a treehouse with me.”

He felt you tip your head to press a kiss to his jaw as he spoke, before you yawned tiredly. “He would love that. He thinks you’re the best, he loves you as much as he loves Minho.” You mumbled, face buried in his shirt as you drifted off to sleep.

The following day, you had told everyone about your trip, and they were shocked or find out that this would be the last full day in which they see you for a month. That night, Newt had arranged a bonfire for your departure, and Gally had whipped up a batch of his secret recipe drink. Frypan had stolen chunks of chicken and rolls of bread from the kitchens, and as the night rolled in, Thomas had found himself sitting on a log with you, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as funny stories were shared between the group. 

A fire so tall he could barely see through the flames to the other side curled up into the air, sparks and still burning ash trickling away on the wind, and his hands were grasping a stick with a piece of chicken on, the same as everyone else, as you roasted bits of food. You were giggling, the effects of Gally’s drink hitting you, and your head rested on his shoulder, his own resting on top of yours as he simply listened to you talk to his British friend, spinning the stick in his hands as he watched the chicken rotate and cook on the end. 

He had missed it at first, but he jumped as he let his gaze flick over it one again. Your grip had grown slack, the heavier end of the stick sipping closer to the centre of the fire and the meat on the end of your stick had actually caught fire itself. Not only was your chicken ruined, but you hadn’t noticed the flames crawling along the thin wood pole towards your fingers, and he yelped, slapping at your hands to get you to drop it. 

Your gaze found his, brows furrowed as you looked at him, following his trial of vision until you saw the fire half-way up the stick, a shocked sound leaving you as you threw the whole thing into the flames, your eyes wide as the group cracked up laughing at the incident. With a pout, you picked up your drink, swilling the almost empty glass around before taking a sip of the liquid. 

“My chicken..” You grumbled, huffing through your nose and he chuckled, nudging you with the elbow pressed between you both as he pulled his stick back from the flames, showing you the perfectly roasted piece of meat. 

“You can share mine, sweetheart.” Turning to look at him, your pout was replaced with a cute smile, and he grinned at the sight of it, his head dipping forward to bump his nose against yours. 

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Anything for you.” His nose nuzzled against yours a little longer, his forehead pressed or yours happily as you waited for the food to cool, before he held it out in your direction, letting you take the first bite. You shared the stolen treat between you both, sharing your bread out equally as well, until both of you had enough to fill you. 

You stayed out staring at the dying embers until all the warmth was gone and the night was dark and cold once again. You had hugged each of your friends goodbye, all of them bidding you well on your trip, cracking jokes and promising to do something fun when you returned. You had walked back to your cabin in silence, leaving one candle lit by the bedside as the two of you lay down. 

Something was different tonight. It was the first time Thomas was going to have to say goodbye to you, the first time he faced having to on his own for a while, and though he knew he could handle it, he was still worried. Not for himself, but for you.

You looked after everyone else, but who was going to be looking after you out there.

His thoughts were swirling and dragging him down to the depths as you played with his fingers, your eyes on him as he avoided your gaze in the low lighting of the room, your breath washing over his face from your close proximity. When your hand finally stilled, you called out to him, the sound of your voice dragging back to reality. 

“Don’t get lost in your head. I’m going to be fine.” You whispered, and he nodded cautiously, eyes scanning over every inch of your face, memorising your features. For once, his heart wasn’t racing, and his nerves weren’t electrified. Anxiety wasn’t coursing through his veins, and Thomas had never been so sure of his actions or his feelings in his entire life. 

Leaning in, his lips met yours softly, his eyes closing as he pushed into you, enjoying the soft sound you made, your hand coming up to lace in his hair, your legs tangling with his as you pulled yourself closer to him and he circled his arms around your waist, rolling onto his back. His fingers gripped your hips as his mouth moved slowly and passionately against yours, the air around him seeming to tingle each time he pulled back for breath only for your lips to meet again, and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, to which you happily parted them for him.

Tentatively, his tongue dipped out, playing with yours between your cheeks and a low moan left him, your whimper being muffled between the loving exchanges you shared, and eventually, you pulled back for air, pressing your lips to his in a final and chaste peck, leaving the same on his nose. You collapsed down onto his chest, tiredness creeping into his body, but he could feel the smile he held being returned on your own lips, your face pressed into his neck. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Tommy. I’m coming back to you, don’t worry.”

Your pledge held him steady as he fell asleep, your body weight on top of his making him feel safe and secure, and your confession of love making him feel warm and comfy in your embrace.

When Thomas woke up alone, the large ship on the horizon gone from sight, he wanted to get back into your bed, hold your pillow close to his chest so he could smell you, and simply wait it out until you returned. But, he didn’t.

He joined his friends for breakfast, just as he had promised he would do, because he wanted to make you proud.

His nerves were wracked. He had been sitting on the beach here for hours, ever since he’d seen the ship peek over the horizon as a tiny dot, and he’d practically been rocking with anticipation as it grew closer and closer. The small steamboat that had been bobbing on the shore was finally fired up as he watched the anchors be dropped from the main ship, the small one beginning to fill up for it’s multiple trips to and from to carry everyone back to the shore.

Firstly, came the newcomers. Shaken up and in awe, he remembered that same look being on his own face two years ago when he woke up, and one year ago when you’d started showing him how to truly live. The next shipload carried all the supplies, and Thomas was impressed by how well you had all done. It took almost forty-five minutes, he was timing it on his watch, to unload it all, the boxes being carried up the beach to put away. 

Finally, the little boat departed again, and he stood up, his legs shaky and nervous underneath him, and he distracted himself by wiping the sand from his jeans, brushing himself down and straightening out his clothes. 

He messed with his hair, ruffling it and flattening it, his hands continually running through it, and the little carrier ship finally came to a stop. He squinted, but he couldn't make anyone out, merely shapes unloading carefully and climbing aboard, and it seemed to take hours before it was slowly making its way back toward the beach.

He still couldn’t see you, amongst what seemed like a sea of bodies, he couldn't pick out your face, and his leg began to jerk and his foot tapping at the floor, adrenaline and anxiety riddling his body. Coming to a stop, the boat piled out, person after person and he watched carefully for you.

The last few people were making their way off, and he was sure the entire nail on his thumb was gone from how much he had bitten it, when at last, he saw you. You were battered and bruised, your shoulders sagging with exhaustion and you feet dragging. Your shirt was torn, and your bag was slung over one shoulder, but you had a tired smile on your face as you hopped down onto the sand, making your way up the beach.

He was calling out to you before he’d even registered it, his feet carrying him in rapid footsteps towards you and you looked up, your bright eyes meeting his and how he had missed seeing them looking into his own. You dropped your bag from your shoulder, your arms lifting tiredly up and open for him and he skidded to a stop before you, his body crashing into yours as he held you tightly. 

Finally, after all this waiting, you were back in his arms, and he pressed a kiss to your hair as he buried his face in your neck, his body trembling desperately and you held onto him, your hands coming up to squeeze around his waist as he cupped the back of your head, the other hand resting on your arm. 

“Tommy, baby, you’re shaking. It’s okay, I’m okay!”

“I missed you so much!” His eyes were lined with tears when he eventually let you pull back to look at him, and he watched as you own eyes filled with tears while you looked at him.

“I missed you too.” Dipping his head, he pressed breathless kisses to your lips, trailing them up across your cheeks, covering your face with the touches as he tried to steady himself. His hands slid down your arms to lace his fingers with yours, and his foreheads pressed together, and he felt himself finally slipping back into ease and joy now he had you in his arms again. 

“I went out every day, like I promised. I hung out with everyone, especially your brother. We hang out the most, he missed you a lot. He can’t wait to see you when his classes end.” You gave him a teary smile at the words and he lifted his hands, not wanting to see tears on your face, whether they were happy or sad. “What do you want to do? You want to sleep, or eat, o-”

“I really want to shower. I’m achy and dirty.” You mumbled, and he kissed your lips one final time, one of his hands leaving yours as he dipped down to pick up your bag, before leading you away. Holding the door open for you, he dropped your bag to the ground, and watched you rifle around for a change of clothes, before dragging yourself toward the cubicles. Your hand never left his, pulling him into the stall with you as you closed the door, and his cheeks heated up as you did.

“You want me to shower with you?” His voice was higher than normal, and he cursed himself at the way it had risen in pitch, showing off his nerves openly. Your eyes were sliding shut you were so fatigued, and his hands found the edges of your shirt, peeling up over your body and stripping you down gently, dirty clothes building a pile on the floor and he pushed them away with his foot. 

Twisting the handle for water, the warmth sprayed over your body, a low groan falling from your lips the second it did. He dropped his own clothes to the heap, stepping forwards push you both under the spray of water carefully. With a soft touch, he lathered a bar of soap in his hands, scrubbing the dirt and grime from your skin, the water running discoloured for a while as he removed the sand and filth from you, your face buried in his bare chest as he ran his fingers through your hair, detangling knots and washing away everything that had happened while you were away from him. 

When the water was clean once again, he reached for the worn towel, drying you from head to toe before helping you dress into your fresh clothes, only to find you’d brought him a set too. One of his shirts hung from your body, the long sleeves covering your hands as he scooped you up under your legs, the dirty clothes all bundled in the towel and you held the collection as he held you. 

You were too tired to eat, you just wanted to sleep, and he was more than happy to do whatever it took to take care of you, as you had been doing for him for so long now. You didn’t care about the light flooding in through the window, you only cared about crawling into your own bed, your hands clinging to him as you dragged him down with you. 

“I got you something.”

You sat up slightly, pointing at your bag in the corner and he raised his eyebrows, leaving the bed for just long enough to dig through the bag and pull out the neatly carved little wooden box, the contents jingling and shaking as he held it. Settling back in beside you, he sat up as you rested your head on his chest, an arm around his waist and your legs tangled with his. 

He popped the lid open, a selection of tools sitting inside and you covered your mouth as you yawned, hid fingers picking through the instruments he was seeing. 

“A wood carving kit?”

“I thought you could carve, like you said Chuck did. It’ll help you feel connected to him.” Tears welled in his eyes as he looked down at you, and he placed the box down, shuffling down until he could brush his lips with yours, your head resting on the pillow beside him.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Your lips flicked up, twitching into a smile at the side. “What are you going to carve first?”

He contemplated it for a minute, humming under his breath, and his fingers trailed along your arms to your hand. “How about a ring-” He tapped the base of your ring finger with his own, circling the space the token of love is supposed to sit. “to go right here?”

You didn’t open your eyes, but you laced your fingers with his, a small laugh leaving you in a breath. “I think I’d like that.” You didn’t say anything after that, you soon fell asleep, but Thomas lay awake, his free hand running through your hair as he simply enjoyed being able to hold you. 

His mind drifted to how far he’d come, a grin pulling on his face. This time a year ago, he had been sceptically following you up a mountain, intrigued by the girl who had made him laugh when no one else could. Now, he was holding the love of his life in his arms, his thumb rubbing over the patch on your finger that a ring would soon sit on. 

And finally, Thomas knew what was missing. He knew his friends cared for him, loved him, and made him feel safe. But you made him feel different. When he was with you, nothing but pure joy and adoration filled his veins, his heart beating erratically when your eyes met his and you smiled at him with a grin you saved just for his eyes when it was the two of you, the one only he could get from you. When you said his name, his heart soared and he felt like he’d been lifted into the clouds.

When your lips met his, Thomas felt like you were breathing life back into his lungs and showing him a world he’d always dreamed of and never thought he’d get. When he was with you, he didn’t feel like anything was missing, he felt like he was complete.

When he was with you, he felt like he was finally home.

[writethehousedown]

New sensations, sweet temptations: chapter three (Crygi, jan/rock) - Winter

a/n: chapter 3 time! ice cream date with crystal and gigi? amazing! thanks to zyan and vic for helping me with spanish and emerald for the french and putting up with me sending chapters the day before they go up, enjoy and catch me @soulfulwinter if ya wanna say hi

 The realisation hit Jan hard. How long had this been in her? Had she been unaware of these feelings for years? How repressed was she? Everything quickly became overwhelming but she held herself together to avoid the potential questions from Rock. 

They ended their conversation and went their separate ways soon after. Jan refused to let herself show any shred of her inner conflict but that didn’t stop Rock from picking up on it. She knew better than to press the matter, only hoping that the blonde would talk about her feelings at some point rather than bottling it all up and burying it. 

 When she got home, Jan let herself start unpacking everything. Of course the only thing she could think of was the cute pink-haired girl that was the cause of all this confusion. How would Rock even feel knowing she was the catalyst? Jan knew she would apologise, despite her having no fault in the matter. Rock would feel guilty for most things, it was in her nature and Jan wished it wasn’t. Sometimes she was too nice for her own good. 

But it was that genuine sweetness that made Jan’s head spin. She knew her friend was cute, she wasn’t blind. But it went much deeper than that. Rock got her on a level no one else could come close to. She knew exactly what set the blonde off and how to deal with her in the rare times she would let herself dwell on negative feelings. While Jan always tried to move on and not let negativity get to her it got increasingly hard when everything was confusing and nothing was making sense. 

She liked Rock. But how did she deal with it?

—

The same day had been incredible for Crystal and Gigi. The pair never could communicate their feelings, with Gigi struggling with feelings in general and Crystal almost never able to communicate crushes because of the anxiety that paralysed her at the thought of it. A situation that saw no end any time soon needed intervention if it was to move forward. 

That was when Nicky took it upon herself to speed up the mutual pining of the pair of useless lesbians. 

“Gigi, everyone is starting to split off. Go take the girl out for ice cream and if you don’t make a move or tell her then I will tell her everything.”

“But what if she doesn’t-”

“T'es vraiment idiote, arrête de te mettre la tête dans le sable et fais quelque chose.”

 “All I got from that was sand.”

“I’m not translating for you. Go learn another language then you can insult people to their face without them realising.”

Gigi was left stumped, although Nicky had that effect on people when she’d had enough of what they were doing. She knew it was pointless to fight it. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of the French girl’s irritance.

——

With her heart twisting in anxiety, Gigi felt a rush of emotions when she entered the ice cream parlor with Crystal, her curly green bob bouncing as she walked that made Gigi feel more gay than she ever knew possible. Crystal just had that effect on her. 

 Getting Crystal to wait patiently in a line was the difficult part. She was never much of a patient person, nor was Gigi but she learned to fake it, so she turned to the redhead and started rambling about ice cream flavours. 

 “-Oh but lemon is really good! It’s kind of sour though. Do you like sour things Geeg? It would explain the faces you make sometimes when Nicky gets annoyed at you for stuff.”

 That last part made the redhead send an unamused expression to the girl, Crystal just let out a giggle that made Gigi’s heart flip. Could she stop being so cute? 

 “Oh but what about strawberries, they’re red like your hair!” Crystal grinned proudly, gesturing to Gigi’s hair. It did remind Crystal of strawberries sometimes, she’d compare them while idly staring at her. She claimed it was normal, who wouldn’t stare at Gigi Goode when given the chance. Crystal swore anyone would and if they wouldn’t then they clearly couldn’t appreciate the beauty in front of them.

 Once getting to the front of the queue, Crystal excitedly looked over all the options before deciding on a strawberry flavour, reminding her of the girl she adored.  She went to get the money out for it before Gigi stopped her, paying for them both. 

“Oh Gigi how gentlemanly of you! Paying for the lady?” Crystal nudged her playfully, Gigi swore she sounded flirtatious but it was likely just her imagination.

“Well, I know how to treat a lady right.” Gigi returned the playful attitude, unable to hold back the dumb grin that took hold when Crystal acted like this.  

They soon sat down, enjoying their ice cream before Crystal realised something. 

“So you’re having lemon? I mean it fits, it’s pretty sour like you.” The glee in Crystal’s tone made Gigi want to squeeze her. That girl was incapable of not being cute at all times, or so Gigi was convinced.

“Oh? All I heard from that is it’s pretty like you. I’m glad you think I’m pretty, Crys.” Gigi decided to be more confident, for once trying to play into the flirty edge Crystal had been using all afternoon. 

 “Eres tan jodidamente hermosa que don’t know how to cope” Crystal blurted without thinking, she noticed Gigi’s puzzled expression and almost squealed due to how cute it was. She clearly didn’t understand what had been said and that made Crystal’s anxiety loosen up slightly.

 “I love when you speak half in Spanish and half in English, it’s adorable Cryssie.”

 Crystal felt heat rising to her cheeks at the comment. The nickname alone sent her reeling. But Gigi found something she did adorable? Even more so than cute, she found it adorable. Was she flirting? Crystal felt a rare surge of confidence, deciding to play into it. She could always shake it off as friendly flirting, like Jaida always claimed was what happened between her and Nicky.

 “You do some adorable things yourself, miss Goode.”

 It was Gigi’s turn to be flustered, Crystal flirting back was not what she expected but it made her heart race and her stomach flip. 

 Seeing a flustered Gigi made Crystal let out a quiet squeal.

“What? Why did you make that noise? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 Crystal regarded Gigi with a sly grin, staring at her with a cute look of something Gigi hadn’t seen before. 

“Nothing, nothing. You’re just cute when you’re flustered.”

 The comment left Gigi’s whole face turning red, making Crystal let out another squeal of adoration. 

“You’re cute, cielo.”

“Cielo?”

“Oh it means sky, but it’s meant as a term of endearment.”

Gigi was confident now, Crystal knew full well what was going on. Calling her Spanish terms of endearment wasn’t that strange of a thing, but right now it added fuel to the fire that was her feelings. 

The flirting continued, at one point Crystal wondered aloud what Gigi’s ice cream tasted like. Had anyone else said that, she would have replied that it was lemon flavour as deadpan as she could muster. But all she could do was offer Crystal a lick. 

There was nothing straight about this. Not flirting with a girl, and then offering each other a lick of their ice cream. 

It had taken Crystal until they were leaving to muster up the courage to actually make a move, as they were about to get their separate ways, she grabbed Gigi’s hand.

It was now or never, she prepared herself as Gigi looked at her, confused. 

“Hey Geeg, we should do this again sometime. I’ll pay for us both next time, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s a date.”

[meganshinsou-tm]

Vermilion. (m)

↳ chapter one: ridin the struggle bus

❧ genre:  pro-hero’s bakugou/kirishima, poly, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [next chapter]

You sighed upon looking at the stack of paperwork that awaited you on your desk, sitting down with a huff and grabbing a pen. 

You had just started working at the same agency the former Symbol of Peace, All Might, once worked at about 2 months ago. Graduating at the top of your class from UA, All Might himself helped to get you the job. He seemed to take a liking to you and took you under his wing after his own mentee Izuku Midoriya had graduated a year before you.

You gladly took the job, hoping it would be exactly what you needed to jump-start your hero career, but just like everyone else, you had to start at the bottom and work your way up, which mostly meant lots of days and nights being the office dog. So to say you were a little bit stressed and overwhelmed at the moment was an understatement.

On top of work, living on your own wasn’t at all what you had hoped for. Not being part of all the action and major hero missions, meant your pay wasn’t the best and it was a struggle trying to get bills paid on time and still have enough left over to feed yourself.

Speaking of feeding yourself, the organ nestled inside your belly was growling relentlessly. You dropped the pen in your hand as your head fell onto the desk and your arms wrapped around your waist, groaning.

“Paperwork again?”

A cheery voice asked from behind you, you could hear someone rustling through the papers that were scattered across the desk. You knew that voice, not bothering looking up.

“Well of course Red, I live for this shit!” You mumbled into the cool wood of the desk, feeling it fog beneath your lips.

“Need help,” he asked.

Finally, you lifted your head and looked at the man talking to you, he was wearing a hoodie and some black shorts, which usually meant he just came back from patrolling the city and was heading home for the day. Your hands dismissed him, head shaking with soft eyes.

“Oh no Kiri, you look like you’re on your way out. There’s no telling what you had to do today, I’m not gonna add on to that!”

Kirishima chuckled and flashed you an enormous sharp toothed grin that made the corners of his red eyes crinkle and made your heart stop. “ So cute, ” you screamed internally.

“I was just patrolling today and there was no action. Plus, I don’t have any plans, just waiting on Bakugou to get off so we can go grab some food before heading home!”

You couldn’t help but smile back and thank him immensely as he grabbed a chair and sat next to you.

Oh yeah, there was a perk to working where you did, and that was Eijirou Kirishima and Katsuki Bakugou. You knew of them before hiring on at the agency, since you all attended the same school and they were only a year ahead of you. Every now and then you’d bump into each other in the hallways, Kirishima would apologize repeatedly while Bakugou would growl. Unknown to you though, you seemed to catch the pairs attention during their last Sports Festival, when you finished in 1st place during your 2nd year. Your quirk and strength alone amazed them, and it didn’t help that you were incredibly cute, which Kirishima would admit to but Bakugou would try to deny it.

So when Kiri found out that you would be joining the team at their own agency, he was more than stoked to get to know you more. That meant, staying late nights and helping with the paperwork that everyone else seemed to pile on you, and helping you on errands and coffee runs. It never bothered him a bit though, it only meant that he got to spend time with you alone and learn more about you.

Bakugou on the other hand had mixed feelings. You caught his attention during his last year, but his goal to become #1 was more important than some girl. When he found out from an overly excited Kirishima that the same girl that piqued his interest only a year ago would once again be coming back into his life, he didn’t know if he was excited or annoyed. When you weren’t doing paperwork or other duties, he’d catch you in the agency’s gym training alone. Your quirk and power drew him back in like it did before and out of nowhere he offered to train with you. At first it was just so he could see exactly what you were capable of, sizing you up, but it slowly grew to him genuinely enjoying the time with you. You never held back against him and always kept him on his toes, which he loved.

So yeah, work wasn’t exactly hell, you did have the friendship of two really amazing guys, who were also very easy on the eyes if you had to admit. It goes without saying, a lot of flirting went on between the three of you, making your heart do flips for both of them. The two were extremely close, and you really admired the bond they had with each other, and you were beyond grateful to have their help. Especially right now, as you and Kirishima worked through the stack of papers together rather quickly. Here and there your fingers would brush against each other or your faces would come into close proximity as you’d explain what information goes where, causing a blush to cross your cheeks and making him struggle when he talked. You loved the effect you had on one of the cities manliest heroes, always seeming to make him melt with just a bat of your lashes.

A few more minutes went by until the mountain of papers were gone. You sighed and laid your head on Kirishima’s shoulder beside you, making him tense at first but quickly relax.

“Thank you so much Kiri, not only for tonight but for all the other nights you’ve stayed behind to help me. You really are my hero!”

Kirishima chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, then craned his head forward to look at your face. “It’s no problem (Y/N), honestly. I was in the same position when I first started so I know how overwhelming it can be. But, I’ll let you in on a secret. I’ve been hearing around the office that you’ll be going on your first sidekick mission soon!”

Your head immediately shot up from his shoulder and looked at him with a smile and wide eyes, but quickly that hint of happiness turned sour as your eyes dulled and your smile dissipated.

“Yeah right, apparently I'm only good enough for paperwork and coffee!”

Kirishima frowned at the lack of belief in yourself when he believed in you so much. The red-head then chuckled and placed his finger on your chin, making you look into his crimson eyes.

“You’re incredibly strong (Y/N) and All Might himself recommended you. If I had it my way, you would’ve been out there with me immediately instead of stuck here with paperwork!”

You felt a blush cross your cheeks as his red eyes gazed into your own. After all the relentless flirting between the two of you, you could never get over how sweet he was. You realized that his hand hadn’t moved from your chin as his thumb brushed your jaw. Your eyes wandered to his lips that looked surprisingly soft; he noticed and looked at your lips as well. They were now parted and plump, tinted with a blush colored lipstick, the only type of makeup he ever noticed you wearing and it was taking everything he had to resist touching them.

"Kiri - " your voice spoke softly, breaking the silence between you.

“Oi, the fuck are you two doing?” A loud and brash voice broke the moment, making the two of you jump back from each other, a red tint crossing your faces. “Tch, can’t finish your own paperwork princess?”

"And queue Katsuki Bakugou," your mind cursed. Quickly recovering from the sudden intrusion, you crossed your arms leaning on the desk and looked at the ash blond in front of you. “You’re just jealous I didn’t ask for your help, Baka-gou!”

“What the fuck did you just call me you little –“

“Hey buddy, finally done,” a cheerful Kirishima cut off.

The red-head was always the peacekeeper when it came to you and Katsuki, trying his best to put out the flames between the two of you before they emerged into enormous uncontrollable fires. Sure the explosive hero had his good days with you, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t an asshole at times, but - you loved to push his buttons.

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving, now let’s go!” Katsuki replied as he turned on his heels to walk out.

Kirishima went to get up but turned to face you with another smile, “Wanna tag along (Y/N)? We’re gonna stop and grab some food before we go home.”

“No she doesn’t!” Bakugou suddenly growled as he turned around and glared at you.

You glared back with a smug grin and stood up, “I’d love to!”

[svrssnp]

Tag-Along🃏 - Joker x Reader [H.L.]

Summary: You convince the Joker to bring you along for a small heist operation, yet nothing is ever so easy, is it?

Rating: T / violence, light swearing, death / it’s the joker bby

Word Count: ~3,400 (oof)

Comments: if you wanna be updated for future joker fics, lemme know and i’ll create a tag list. also!! requests are open, so stop in! i have just been so grateful and overwhelmed from such a positive response regarding the first fic, so thank you all :,)

Joker didn’t have rules for you, or him, or anyone. But he did have principles—those trains of thought that wrecked their way into his mind—the little obsessions that he clung to, his own personal philosophy.

One of them, the one that you always heard, was his most serious: never cross business and pleasure.

But Joker had been aggravated as of late.

Coming home early, while you didn’t mind at all, flew up red flags. His private musings were longer than usual, as he hastily hung up phone much more aggressive lately. And every so often, while you were making breakfast or getting ready for bed, he’d come up from behind and rest his head on your shoulder, saying nothing but deeply sighing in discontent—the way a bored toddler would.

While appreciated, the gesture made you nervous. All in all, the Joker was bored, and if he didn’t have a decent enough distraction soon, you worried that his men—or you, even—would pay for it.

Grumbling in the hallway or stomping his feet too loudly accompanied him everywhere in the last few days, so when you’d seen him sitting at the vanity later in the day smearing on the white greasepaint across his forehead, you decided to take a gamble.

“So... what exactly are you doing tonight?” you asked with a knock on the door, looking in the mirror’s reflection to gauge his reaction.

His hand never stopped applying the paint, now reaching up to craft the haphazard black circles around his eyes. “Simple inventory restock. Need a few bazookas—Gotham’s armory should have a few to, ah, borrow.” The words were so nonchalant as he moved his head to see if there were any missing spots.

You walked into the room, innocent as could be. “Sounds a bit boring for you, isn’t it?”

He turned around with a grin, looking like a skeleton with only the white and black—eyes seeped into his skull.

“You’re beginning to know me so well, doll. Now,” he leaned against the vanity and offered up the red tube, “come over here and put a smile on my face, hmm?”

You raised your eyebrows, plucking the tube from his hand as you performed the little intimacy between the two of you. His lips puckered up mockingly as you traced them.

As you carved out the red smile, you couldn’t help but mimic it. Touching his scars had seemed so daunting of a task at first, but now... it was nice of him, you guessed, to allow one vulnerable aspect to show.

Joker seemed to enjoy the moment also, slowly closing his eyes at the familiarity, leaning his head back in relaxation.

He looked content. Almost.

The good atmosphere gave you the courage you needed. Clutching the lipstick a tad bit harder than necessary, you let slip, “Why don’t you bring me along, then?”

Immediately, his brows furrowed in confusion, and an eye popped open to look at you. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” you hesitated, taking a shaky breath while your hand curled to form the wide smile, “you’ve been restless lately... Something has obviously been bothering you! So I just thought—“

“No, no, no, no, no,” he shook his head and grabbed your wrist in hand, halting you. “Tell me, doll, have you been planning out this argument in your head all day, or did you just think up this terrible question now?”

“All day,” you said, pulling your hand away roughly, but Joker held tight, unyielding. “Because you’ve been so obviously upset all week.”

“And explain to me—no, really, go on,” he hissed, lunging down, “how you accompanying me to a heist would fix this?”

You huffed, throwing the lipstick down. “God forbid I try to cheer you up with something different.”

His other hand looped around your waist, pulling you in between his legs as he held you between them, then taking both his hands to grab your face, he pulled you close, as if your heads closer would transfer his exact thoughts.

“I do forbid it,” he whispered, lips almost touching your own, “and you know perfectly well why. I like you here, safe and untouchable—from all except me, of course—because you risking your neck is a liability, and I protect what’s mine.”

“Liar,” you said quickly, as you started going cross-eyed by looking him directly in the eyes so closely. “You let your men die all the time.”

He tsked, disregarding them quickly. “They aren’t, they’re aren’t mine. They’re their own mistakes. And I don’t clean up mistakes, I just direct them.”

“Oh, so what? I’m pure to you?”

“The purest,” Joker mumbled, voice growing dangerously deep as he leaned in to finally connect you two.

It was a shock—both physically and mentally. Every interaction with him was mental gymnastics. Every kiss was like an electric charge. It exhausted you, excited you.

You reached a hand up then to deepen the kiss, but that had been his queue to stop.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t get so hot on me when I have to leave,” he said, leaning away with a smack of his lips.

“But—“

“Hush,” Joker insisted, redirecting your head to press against his chest in an attempt to keep you quiet. His one hand looped around to pat your hair down. “I only want you to understand my point of view. Business and pleasure don’t mix.”

“But you said the business was simple!” you retorted, lifting your head up. “And you haven’t been very pleasant lately!”

“Doll, I am fine. In fact,” he licked his lips, already cracking the paint, “a smile never leaves my face!”

You didn’t think it possible, but when he smiled he managed to look even more unhappy.

“This isn’t just about you, you know... Maybe I want to accompany you because I’d like to,” you said, trying an entirely different approach to hopefully speak to his ego. “Maybe I’d like to see the your working side—the side that everyone else sees.”

At that, Joker grinned, already playing out all the fantasies in his mind. A laugh sounded from him until he waved a finger at you. “Hmph, you’re trying. You’re tempting me.”

“Come on,” you whined. “I know heists aren’t anything new for you—they’re boring!—but maybe with me it will be?”

You were grasping at straws, but you could see him cracking. A final push was all that was needed.

“Let’s say you go,” Joker pushed away, leaving you behind at the vanity while he threw on his dusty trench coat over top. “What will happen? You distract me in front of the men? You trip over a live wire? What?”

You started at him blankly while he began fitting on his gloves with a hard slap of the skin.

“Because the way I see it—the right way—is that you’ll distract me, get me going, make me...” he rolled his eyes at the thought of even saying the word, “emotional.”

And with that case of his, all your arguments flew out the window. Your mind struggled to come up with something that might appeal to him.

“Don’t you... um, want?” you cleared your throat, knowing this was a long shot. “To, well, show me off?“

“And have their eyes have the fortune of seeing you?” he purred, opening up the door to leave. “Never.”

“What if—“ you were going to argue, going to call him a name or throw a tantrum, but the more you thought, it just wasn’t worth it. The original goal was to make him feel better, after all, not worse. So you cut yourself off, arms falling to your side in defeat. “Fine.”

“You’re not going,” Joker said pointedly as he straightened his tie. “I’ll be back in a few hours where you will be asleep and not waiting up for me. Do you understand?”

You bit down on your tongue to prevent anything other than “Yes” to slip out.

“Good,” Joker replied, ruffling his hair up last-minute while he glanced at himself in a mirror. “You surprised us all and proven you can follow orders given—that’s important,” he mocked.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, turning your back to go get a shower. “Have fun stealing your bazookas.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he said, mimicking that of an old 1950s sitcom husband. “Oh, and one more thing?” You were about to leave the room, but stopped. “Get your shoes on—I’ve decided you’re coming along and that’s an order.”

Your mouth dropped, and frantically you slipped on a pair of shoes before you followed his laugh out the door.

——————————

To your surprise, you kept silent the entire drive. Joker proved himself to be a truly terrible driver—speeding in all the wrong places and swerving when completely unnecessary—but you had a feeling he was only showing off his failed skills to scare you.

Even he seemed impressed when the van finally parked outside in an alley two blocks down and not a word was uttered.

Without warning, he got out, flinging open the back van doors to get some bags. After throwing two over his shoulder, he tossed something at you.

“A mask?” your nose scrunched up at the painted clown face staring up at you. It was all chipped off too, as if someone else had worn it.

Joker threw you a look, grabbing various guns and dropping them into multiple pockets. “Put it on. Last thing I need is for your face to be dripping in greasepaint too.”

“Would I be able to get a fancy alter-ego then?” you laughed as you slipped it on and began to match his stride down the alley. “Though not a clown. Definitely not. I like you and all, but the idea of couple crime costumes is—hmph!”

His hand flew against your mouth, arms caging around you and throwing both of you towards the brick wall. Your eyes widened, but you didn’t necessarily feel him tense up. Joker was just on guard.

“Now,” he hissed in your ear, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheak, “there is a camera right around there,” he waved in a general direction ahead. “I am going to dismantle it and you,” he squeezed tighter, “are going to keep quiet and follow dutifully behind. Alright?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he didn’t let go. “Mm, mm, mm, no words! Nod.”

After nodding yes, he let go, stalking forward with a pistol in one hand and a bouncy step in his foot.

His eyes scanned the area around you two, and he must have found what he was looking for because quickly, he raised the pistol and shot, shattering some little black orb on the side of the building.

“And there goes... our... audience,” he hummed, arm hanging back down to his side.

“How did you even see that?” you muffled against the mask, eyes squinting to find what he apparently had.

“With my two eyes, doll, with my two eyes,” he muttered, slipping the gun back in his pocket. “Now, climb that ladder instead of stalking me.”

“Admiring. Observing,” you insisted. “And... why me first? There could be someone at the top waiting.”

“There could be,” he conceded, but didn’t shy away from placing your hand on the first rung, “and if there is, that’d certainly mean that they’d learn from their mistakes. But,” he clicked his tongue, “they’re not as smart as that.”

You sighed, “It’d make me feel better if you had your gun out... all the same.”

“How can I say no to that?” Joker smiled, pulling out a short shotgun and resting it over his shoulder. “Now scat.”

He poked you in the back with the nose of the gun, and with a grumble you began climbing.

The building wasn’t too tall—only a few stories high —but the wind nipped with it being so late in the night, and you kept having to push the too-big mask back on your face.

Before you climbed the last few rungs to look over, you hesitated, knuckles turning white from your cold grip.

You looked down at Joker. A toothy smile with crinkling eyes meet you while he lazily held on with a hand, rocking back ‘n forth on his heels. Hair and jacket billowing in the air, he didn’t look the least bit worried.

“Promise me there’s no one up here waiting for us?” you whispered.

“Cross my heart and hope to die~” he sang, gun swinging in his hand, “though, that’s how I always am.”

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your hands grabbed the rooftop, hoisting yourself up to throw a leg over, and—

He was right, of course.

Feeling like a baby once he made it up also, Joker couldn’t not take the opportunity to tease.

“No one here. See?” he said, ruffling your hair obnoxiously. “Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time with me. You’re starting to get a little, ah, dramatic.”

“It’s not funny,” you muttered as he shot the door lock off with a silencer.

“Relax, doll. Aren’t you here to entertain me on this bring-your-kid-to-work day experience?” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Bad manners...”

“I’m a kid?” you scoffed, following him down the stairwell the door opened to. “I think not enough people know the truth.”

“Of?”

“Just how young you look underneath all that war paint. We almost look like a proper couple.”

Joker stopped immediately, holding out his hand to throw you a nasty look. “Talk like that again and we won’t be anything for much longer.”

Repressing a smile, you held up a hand to show him zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key. That seemed to appease him as you both continued on.

Though the further down you got, the more serious he seemed to become. Joker took greater care with his steps and turned back every few seconds to assure that you were doing the same. Several flights later, and the two of you exited the stairwell, working your way into a hallway. After a confusing amount of turns, you found yourself at a foyer with an opening looking down to the main floor of the building.

Two guards were down there, as far as you could tell, at least. One posted at the door, and another sat behind the main desk. Either way, their backs were turned from each other and they seemed like easy targets from an objective point of view.

Except that they had automatics strapped against their back.

Joker looked at them uncaring, as if he were a god looking down on mere mortals.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be this quiet,” you whispered after a few seconds of silence and him patting down his pockets to find something.

“I’m usually not,” he said with a hint of a whine in his voice. “If I were with my men, we’d have just gone through the front door—play a game of shoot out. But with you, I thought it best that we be the only ones in attendance.”

“That’s considerate,” and you had to hold back a laugh at his look of disgust. “Though we aren’t the only ones. There’s also these two guards.”

At that, Joker found what he was looking for and pulled out yet another gun, flipping a lock and pulling the trigger before you even had a chance to comprehend what was happening.

“One,” he corrected, as the guard sitting behind the desk slumped back in his chair, Joker’s bullet firing right through his head silently. You gasped, but Joker just had a bemused look on his face. “Learn to count.”

Your mouth fell open upon seeing the man lie completely still, a faint trail of red running down his white shirt. Joker grabbed your arm, leading you around the foyer to a new angle where you could both better see the other guard by the door. He was totally calm.

“I know, I know,” Joker said upon seeing your shocked state. “Shooting people’s the dull way, and all work and no play makes me a dull boy, but we’re not here for a thrill. Just goods.”

You shook your head, not quite expecting everything to move so quickly. “Can I ask a question?”

“My face is an open book.”

You reached out your hand to him, needing something to hold onto with all the terrifying possibilities of what exactly could happen tonight racing in your mind. “Were you ever like me, at one point?” you whispered, feeling so much dread pool in your stomach. “Did you ever feel like I do right now?”

“Look at me,” Joker kneeled down to be eye-level with you. A gloved hand came up to lay against your cheek as he hummed, licking his lips once. “How do you feel?”

Your eyes flicked down to the dead man. “Guilty.”

“At me, not him,” and he turned your head to his. “Life is, ah, subjective. The codes that people live by—they made them, doll. Not anything else. So the definitions of good and bad?” His fist tightened before flexing, showing an empty hand. “They vanish.”

“Joker, I know this already,” you murmured, pulling your cheek away. “You’ve said this all before. There’s just a difference between hearing and actually seeing it.”

He frowned at you, and you tried your best not to feel bad at how frustrated he was, fists coiling up once more. “Look, look there,” he spit harshly, pointing a finger at the guard standing by the door. “That man right there, with the automatic strapped to his back. Would you kill him?”

“Joker...”

“If I asked you to, would you do it?”

You looked over the balcony, mouth set in a frown to see how young and healthy the guy looked. “He seems like a nice family guy,” was all you said.

But Joker didn’t care, snapping his fingers. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, alright?” you hissed at him, stalking away from the balcony. “What kind of question is that? If it was between you and him shooting at each other or something, then obviously I’d try to save you.”

“But would you kill him?” Joker pressed on, following you regardless of the glared you fixed him with. His eyes looked darker than usual, pupils blown wide. He circled you, looking up and down. “Because I’d kill them all—you know that. That family man that you feel bad about? If he even so much as glanced—BANG!“

“You’d do that on any day.”

Joker made a noise, pinching the back of your neck to make you jump into him. His eyes narrowed in on your scared form, holding an amused expression. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, releasing with a loud pop of the lips. An apology.

“Stay here then, doll. I’ll finish off our, ah, family man,” he cleared his throat and only smiled at your sad face, “then grab what we came for.”

Then he was walking away, opening the door to the stairwell and ready to slip out until you stopped him.

“You’ll be right back?”

“Ten minutes,” he announced, crossing his fingers in a promise and holding them up for you to see before he kicked shut the door and left you alone. “Ten minutes.”

So you waited, a chill seeping its way down your spine at the silence around you. The feeling of being watched threatened all comfort that you had when Joker was around, and it eventually got to the point where you almost dared to get up and pace. You couldn’t sit still.

After a few minutes, you took a deep breath and peaked over the balcony. Sure enough, family man was dead, laying on his stomach.

More minutes passed, and although you didn’t get the exact count right, you knew it had to be longer than ten minutes by now. Yes, your nerves were jumpy, and even then short minutes felt like an hour, but you just knew.

But you sat still, because you also knew that he’d be back, and the last thing you needed was to take one false step and set off anything.

Until you heard a gunshot. Heard it. You never heard Joker. He didn’t work like that.

Again, you waited for a few seconds to see if any sound followed, but it was silent.

So you ran, struggling to carry yourself with shaky legs. Your hand clutched the gun as you trudged down stories of stairs trying to find any indication of where he might be, but there was none.

You made your way down to the main floor, trying your best to avoid the sight of the two dead men. Finally, as you roamed, you found another set of stairs leading downward. The door was hanging open, so you walked slowly, gun out in front. You barely knew how to use it, but you figured the last thing Joker would do is have the safety lock on.

So you’d just have to point and pull, right?

You crept, winding your way to the basement component. Here, the lights were neon bright, illuminating everything in a sick glow reminding you of a hospital. You felt light-headed suddenly, wondering where Joker had gone.

Your sights narrowed in to another room, one looking like an entrance to a safe due to all of the fancy gadgets surrounding it.

God, you just wanted to run, to get in the van and keep driving. It was probably best to leave Gotham all together.

But he could be hurt. What if he was hurt?

Much less suave than you would have liked, you crept into the safe. You saw another dead man. It looked like he was stabbed in the neck also, as his one hand, now frozen, was on his throat, as if trying to do the bleeding.

You glanced down at his other hand and saw a gun lying right next to it, his finger still practically on the trigger.

It happened in slow-motion—seeing him. All the events seemed to stall in your brain, struggling to make sense of what you saw. You only turned your head a quarter of the way when you saw another crumbled body on the ground.

And there lie Joker.

Red painted the floor around him, blood going this way and that. The bags, filled with those stupid, stupid bazookas, were right next to them near his forgotten trench coat, revealing all the knives he’d loved like children.

His eyes were shut—thank God—because you’d scream if you had to see his eyes like... that, devoid of everything.

Everything of him was gone.

Your mind went into a frenzy, running after him. But it wasn’t fast enough, nothing you did was enough now.

His name spilled from your lips a thousand times as you kneeled down, hands going to his hair, his face, his arms, and tie—anything to anchor him to you. You shook his frantically, begging him to get up, to have any consciousness left. But all that did was cause even more of his poorly dyed green hair to fall in the red puddle coming out from him.

“Joker...” you gasped, bringing you head down to rest on his chest, straining to hear a heartbeat.

Nothing.

“Joker, please. Please, please, please...” Cries escaped your lips as you looked down upon him. His lips were parted, and you had to hold back a sob at how broken he looked. The scars stretched his face so unnaturally then, making his corpse look inhuman.

He looked like a monster, laying in blood with knives and scars surrounding him.

“This is all my fault,” you choked out, giving into gravity and falling into him completely. Burying your face into his dress shirt, you breathed in the awful smokey scent that always accompanied his suits. That you’d always complained about. “I shouldn’t have been here... You shouldn’t be here! We should be home! We should be... be...

“We should have done more. Should have left this stupid, stupid city. You—you weren’t supposed to die here, damn it! DAMN IT, JOKER, COME BACK!” Your hands started shaking, and you had to pull away at how angry you felt, how... how beaten down.

But you couldn’t move far. Those hands had always managed to find a way to pull you in. That face had always managed to convince you to stay. That voice...

“This can’t be the end. It can’t. You can’t die like this—like, like some person.” Then suddenly your hands were in his hair, wiping it away from his forehead to view him again, to remember those smile lines and forehead wrinkles.

Panic started to rise once you thought of what to do next. You couldn’t carry him to the van, and even if you did, what then? Did you contact his men, telling them what happened? Did you leave him here?

But you didn’t want to give up, to walk away from everything he’d shown you. He wouldn’t leave.

“You’re better than them. You said you were. And I thought so too… so don’t die like them.”

Leaning down, you pressed your lips to his forehead—so painfully similar like he’d done to you only twenty minutes before—and had to hold back yet another sob.

“Say it’s just a bad joke,” you whispered into his hairline, not daring to open your eyes to face the truth once again. “Say it.”

Until a voice filled with so much offense replied back, sending a bolt of electricity through your being, sending feeling back into you.

“I’ve never told a bad joke in my life, doll.”

That deep and perfect and raspy and infuriating voice.

“Wha—JOKER! Joker, oh my god. Oh my god!” you screamed, tears flowing even more at the whirlwind of emotion.

He chuckled then, throwing his head to the side while pure, unadulterated glee filled his eyes. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, crawling into his lap with such urgency that he barely made it sitting up.

“Ooh, doll, calm down,” he teased, finally getting the laughs under control enough to examine you. “I’ve only been gone, ah, twenty minutes at most, and you’ve been crying all this time?”

“You asshole!” you yelled, slapping him in the arm that he’d wrapped around you. But you still leaned in, never daring to leave. “You absolute bastard—I thought, I really thought that you’d—“

But you couldn’t even get the words out without collapsing against him in tears again and again.

“Shhh, shhh, shhhhh,” he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “You were right in your cute little euology—I am better than that.”

He giggled once more, and you couldn’t help but smile a little upon feeling the rumble of his chest. It was moving again. It was alive, and you felt yourself beginning to grow hysterical.

“You weren’t breathing.”

“Yeah?” he replied in a tone so obvious that it threatened your sanity.

You sat up in his lap, still never letting his tie go, but enough to get a look at him.

“You were... you were dead, Joker.”

“Mmm, no. Death doesn’t have as many possibilities as this.”

Suddenly, he surged forward, tongue immediately finding its way into your mouth as you moaned deeply into the kiss. He growled, bending you in half as he sat up more also, squishing you fully in his lap.

It was so backwards—everything that he did to you. Tears were still wet on your face, but you couldn’t stop giving in to him. You thought you’d lost him, for God’s sake.

“I—I can’t believe you did that to me,” you said, barely even knowing what to say as you broke for air and stuffed your face into his shoulder.

“Please... It wasn’t even that bad. I debated on making it much gorier,” he said so casually, still finding the situation amusing. “Did you really expect to go on a field trip with me and not have any, ha, education?”

Your head shook, commonly disagreeing with him. “You’re terrible. You’re terrible and I’m never coming with you again in my entire life if you act like this.”

“I warned you,~” he lulled you back into false security. And you suddenly felt nauseous understanding that this was probably his thought process for letting you come in the first place. It was all meant to terrify you, to scare.

And it worked.

“Just take me home,” you sniffed in his shoulder, and tried your best to maintain dignity and eye contact at the same time. “Please.”

Joker reached up, wiping a tear from your eye. His bottom lip was puckered out, mimicking your pouting. “Doll, I’d want nothing more.”

And with that, he stood, pulling you up alongside him while he collected his jacket and bags. You felt like a child, but insisted on holding his hand the entire way up the steps of that basement, and probably all the way home too.

“Oh, heh, actually, almost forgot.” He stopped once the two of you reached the main floor, and reached into your pocket to take out a playing card.

It was a simple black and white Joker, complete with two Js on each corner.

“When did you put that in my pocket?” you asked as he pulled out a red marker, doodling something on the glass before pocketing it.

He simply shrugged, licking the back of the card before sticking it to the front door of the building. For a finishing touch, he took the mask you’d been wearing and hung it right above.

“Tricks of the trade.”

[wispandwhispers]

moonboy

Notes: Writers block is a bitch, I’m sorry this took so long.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, qpr dukeceit

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tw(s): Cursing, mental torture, one slight nsfw joke, death, crying

Words: 1884

"You've got your stuff?"

Some scuffling and overturning of a bag to double check that everything is in it.

"Yep.

"Do you really think that we are going to make it back for first bell."

"Naw."

"Call in the favour from Quill..."

*****

Roman woke up.

From those dreams.

And the screaming thoughts came back.

Don't think about it Ţ̚Ḩ͡Ī̧͖̪͉͓͌̊̂͝N͕̾K̝̟͗͗,̦̂ ̒͢T̡̫̪̄̾͛HI̡̫̮͑̅͂N̢̨̖̯̳̆͆͗͘̚K̦͔͑͋,͍̱͔̬̓͛̑̐ ͙̦̯͚̅͂͋̽P̛͚̰̟̩̟̾̄̆͂L͎͍̥͔̭̎͒̉̃͘Ẻ̲͈̬͖̄̿̒A̜̓S̩͒̏͜Ḛ͉͒͝ ̣̯̲̜̄̊́̄͞ͅL̦̏Ȉ̡͕͌̚ͅS̭̦̀̕-

He sighed. It's ok when he dreams about about a cute boy but damn him if he wants to think about it.

He walked down the stairs, the mental warzone fading to background noise as he grabbed his bowl and made himself breakfast.

He didn't have the energy to make anything fancy (the pounding headache the thoughts gave him took all of it).

Sitting down at the kitchen table with the cereal, stiring the milk idly, he turned to his side to talk to his-

Wait.

"Dad!"

"Yes, Kiddo?"

"Where's Remus?"

"He left with Janus this morning."

I thought they would a least give me notice before they decided to overthrow the government or decide to do something equally stupid.

"Thanks, Dad."

*******

Wroammin: Jan, what are you doing with my brother?

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- :Why do you ask?

Wroammin: You came to my house to pick up Rem before I woke up

Wroammin: And the sun just came up

Wroammin: The fuck are you two plotting and do I need a Hazmat suit or not

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- : I'm going to exercise my right of free speech

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE-: By not using it

SnekSnekSeverusSnekDUMBLE- has blocked Wroammin

Wroammin: Fuck You

******

"Vale?"

Silence filled 3Q.

"Not here!"

Miss Quill took a pen out of her hair a jotted down a note on a scrap piece of paper, seemed to whisper something under her breath and do a small smile to herself.

"Xia?"

"Which one?"

"The virgin."

How the fuck does she know?

The class erupted into a symphony of laughter and mockery except for Roman, Virgil and Nyx (But Nyx was snoring so Roman didn't know to count it as a win or not).

Virgil looked over at his arch-nemesis, almost deciding to so something or not. He seemed to choose the latter.

And those eyes seemed the flair but it was just for one second, but it would be gone as quick as it started.

Roman placed his head on the table in embarrassment waiting for the humiliation to stop.

"...Here, Miss.."

(Virgil tapped Roman's shoulder).

"Yilton?"

(Roman lifted his head and gave him a a sharp glare. "Why the fuck are you speaking to me?")

"You can hear my voice."

( "Jeez," He lifted his hands in surrender. "This fell out of your man bun" The emo passed a pencil to the other.)

" Zander?"

(Roman snatched the pencil -ignoring the fact that it seemed to be glowing slightly- stuffed it in his hair and proceeded to give Virgil double birds).

"Xey're sick."

(Lunaper mimicked the action).

Quill closed the register tab.

"Ok mortals, take out your plann-"

The constant ringing of a bell that went on a little to long to be a period change.

The students sighed.

"Drop your bags and line up in register order in silence." The class groaned even louder but followed the instructions given.

Except Roman.

"Miss, it's raining buckets outside and someone in the staff probably just burned their toast, do we really have-"

"Xia,I told you to line up in silence!"

Even the older twin knew that trying to argue with Quill when she raised her voice was suicide so he slowly backed away and joined the line as he didn't bring anything that could cover him. And he was sure that someone was fucking with him as the rest of the class had brought protection except the emo.

Why the hell are you noticing I̘̒Ṫ͍͙͎̅͌'̛̯͎̐S̭̱̠̣͎̽̽̈́̄͠ ̳̥͖͂̋̇B̹̂É̯͙͚͕͂͌̕C̹͝A̙̮̱̓͌̀U͓̺̣̎̑̇Ś̳̣̮̀͑́͟E̲̦̓̽ ̘̫͑͑Y̬̠̊̄O͓͠U͈̓ ̢̟͎̅̽͋C̪̲̦̉̉͒A̰͎̔͘R̢̜̱̬͌̾͆͊̄͟É͈ ̨̦̺̓̇͞F̫͑O̖̕R̗̫͗̓ ̗̹̺̏͑̊H̩̼̒̇-him?

The pounding headache was back, like two parts of his brain where bitching with each other for some damn reason. He rubbed his temple to try and relieve the pain.

"You know the drill, walk in absolute silence to the plaza and wait for me while I get the paper register."

******

The class filled back in annoyed and wet. Turns out that a teacher had taken a cigarette break and the back of the the cafeteria block and that's what set off the alarms.

By the time they had returned, it was already half way into first period. Mx Spring had said that they should just consider this a free period and return to their homerooms. To pass the time Roman took out a his spare spiral notebook and started to sketch in it.

If you asked Roman what he drew during this time, he would know but not understand how he did it. He just remembered taking out the pencil he'd previously stuffed in his hair , an overwhelming calm rushing over him and waking up to find a scarily intricate version of the boy from his dreams on the lined paper.

This is the same Roman who would spend two and a half hours struggling to get the other eye just right was suddenly able to draw actual whole person in thirty minutes.

As the second period bell rang, he eyed his masterpiece warily and closed his notepad.

*******

Xia drifted off to the droning voice of his geography teacher, every though he knew that this was a crucial-

"Roman Xia and Virgil Lunaper, please make your way your way to the front desk, I said Roman Xia please make your way to the front desk."

The two boys stood up and packed up their stuff slowly, shrugged their backpacks onto their shoulders and quickly said by to their teacher.

******

"Holy shit, you're ok!" Roman was trying to wrap his head around why his Pa who was very reserved had tears streaking down his face.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"Haven't you seen the news?"

"...What did I miss.."

Pa just passed Roman his phone and everything started to make sense.

******

There comes a time where a person would resort to mindless substance to try and escape the cold, unforgiving reality of life.

Well, Roman was clocking his fourth hour on twitter so you knew where he was emotionally.

He didn't want to get up. He didn't need to either. Both of his parents were going to out for a while anyway.

Putting down the phone (He gotten sick of staring at it) and deciding to move to the living room wh-

Are those stones?

"Princey!"

Roman walked up to the window and drew the blinds open. The emo was stood on his steps with his headphones, accompanied with a purple and black leather jacket.

Disgusting A̛̮̠̞̰̔̆̂D̙̺̓͛ORẴ̧̹̯͞B̖͓̐͟͠͠L̡̞̍̃E̡̯̮̿͘͞

"Why are you here Jack Smelligton?"

"Wow, you upgraded to insults that have four syllables, ten points to ravenclaw!"

The attacked emitted a sound that could only be described as offended princey noises.

"How I am-"

Virgil pressed his finger on Roman's lips.

"Ravenclaws are witty, competitive and creative. For the fact that you have an endless supply of nicknames for me and you always try to out do your last attempt to piss me off, you would meet the criteria."

If he doesn't H̨̻͖̣̥̐̂̒͂̎I̯͈͐̈́S̯̪̯̆̔̋ ̭̤͆͌͑͢Ș̭͑̊K͈̈Ì̬̖̙͈̅̍͡N̟̤͎͔̊̈͌͒ ̞̃I͇̪͊̑S̗̍ ̺̬̦̔̉̓Ś̩͍̄O̠̎ ͕̙̟̓̄̾S̥̊O̢̭̿͡F̨͕̭̔̈́̽-͖̲̭̩̂̅̾̆move his fingers off my mouth, I'm gonna break them.  

Almost on cue with the thought, he removed it.

"I'm going to repeat my question, why are you here?"

Virgil took a step back and did a little chuckle to himself, with a shrug of shoulder that seemed custom fit.

God he's  G̻͈̪̱̑̂̕͞O͈͐D̞̞̻̀͊̃ ͌͜Ț͖̱͐̀̏͢͡H̞̒Ȧ̺̳͞Ṱ̃'͈̦͕͌̔͌͊͟S̬̀ ̨̢̫̬̤́̄̓͗͛S̹̺͉̭̉̀̔͗̿ͅẸ̫͒͞X͎̟̥̹̀̾̓͒Y̧̢̫͙͌̒̾͞  - insufferable.

"Because even I, your sworn enemy and nemesis til death drags us part, don't think that you should grieve over someone who isn't even dead."

"You mean-"

"Trust me, Remy is very much alive."

******

"How did you even find my house?"

"That's the most pressing question on your mind right now?"

"It truly isn't but let me start with the small ones before the big ones emerge."

Virgil was lying on the couch with his sneakers touching the furniture. Roman had let him in after claiming that Remy still had a pulse. He was scrolling through his feed and according to Roman's peripheral vision, it seemed to be tumblr.

("He actually uses the Queue?")

("Did you say anything?"

("Nothing you need to know.")

("You sound like Janus.")

Roman  glared at his feet.

"Take off your shoes if you are going to lay on the armrest."

"Fine!" He flinged his shoes at the other. It stained Roman's white tee.

"God, I hate you."

He pulled out both his earbuds and shots some finger guns at him.

"Right back at yah!"

Xia walked over and sat on the ottoman facing Lunaper.

"Let's get down to business-"

"TO DEFEAT THE HUNS!"

"Seriously, what do you mean 'Remy is very much alive', everyone with access to the internet saw what happened to him."

Virgil looked around, almost like he was scared of being seen or spotted or heard.

Did his eyes just change color?

"Look, I can't really tell you.."

"I'm getting sick of asking this, why are you here then?"

Virgil didn't respond.

"Why exactly are you here if you aren't going to try and explain-hmmmmm!"

Lunaper's was currently gagging his mouth with jacket.

" Stop speaking so loud."

Roman peered at the other.

"Whamt, ets not like whemre being watched."

"I'm just being- wait, give me a sec."

Virgil took the loose strand of Roman's hair and swiped it to the left.

I̛͇̜̺̦̎͐͠ ̘̂WA̹͍͘͡N̢̟͉̑̕͠T ͉̠̲̲̿̾͒̊T̥̮̍͞Ȏ̺̐͢ ̛̤̬̲̪̉́̏K̖̗̃̓I̧͕̫̩̼̔̎̃̀̇S̩̫̏̓S̙͛ ̧̫̞̒̇̕H͓̯́̋́ͅI͈̻͙̋͜͠͞͠M,͍͉͍̼͌̌̆͆ ͓̭̦̾͒̅I͓͇̹̩͚͂͐͑͡͡ ̥̑W̹̰̯͈͛͛̾͛A̞̲̩̎̍͞N̳̟̻͆̄̚T̢̛̖̏ ͓̋T͉̪͐̓O͇̤̝͛͂̿ Ć͉̯͛AṞ̳̠̈̄͘E̼͎̞͇͊͗͋́̕͟Ș̆Ṣ̈ ̡̨̡̗͕̊̂̂̓͠F͎̏Ặ̼̯̠̅͊́C̫̜̾̉E̢̟̣͎̱̿̾͒͌͒,̣̠́́ ̡͇̪͑̊̃͟͞Ì̼͕͙̥̤͑̆́̕ ͇͗W̧̫͉̘̉̃͘͡Ă̟̘͝N͉̊T̫̟͐̄ ̢͋T̞̃O ̨̡̀̆̄͑͜ͅĎ̢̦̖̤͑̂̕Ä̝̯̪́̒̚͜͠N̹͔̘͇̔̉̐̐C̥̔E̪̖̝͉̱͋̎̾̔̒ ̡̻̤̀͐̉̄͜WǏ̜̩̟́̀͒͜T̙̆H̥̆ ̟͍͔̈́̆̕H̪̣̽̐I̡̺̯͌̑́M̨̪̩̱̜͆̏̌̋̕ ̖͎̀̚'̯͉̅̀T͔̦͇̙̔̾̊͜͠͡I͎̤̞͔̥̎̿́̚͝L̜̥̅̑ ̛͔͖̰̌͌̚͢Ș̘̗̀̿̎U͔͗N͕͓͊̆̋ͅ ̪̪̟͌̒͒̂͜R̲̻̪̋͊̅̏͟Ì̪SḔ̙͟,̨̰̩͚͒̈͂̚ ̧̜̱̀̆́̊͜

"Fumck!"

The emo removed the make-shift gag.

"Are you ok?"

Xia moved his hands to his temple to try and relieve the pain.

,̨̰̩͚͒̈͂̚ ̧̜̱̀̆́̊͜Ỉ͈ ̳̣̙̗̊̒̓̚W͕̐A̱̙̣̙͛̎̎̀̓͜N̫̳̔͘T̰̜̝͌͛̀ ̲̃T̯̮̪͗̋̒Ỏ̗ ̩̞̝̊̎̋H̛̭̺̥͛̚OL̛͎̝̹͇̂̀̚D ̹̰̬̈̚͝H̤̫͙̅̔͝Ị̞̱̓̾̚Ḿ̞,̾͢ ̲̟̹̫͆͐͑̅I Ẃ̪̫͘Ã͢Ņ̹̋́Ț̛͍̒ ̰̭͕̏̇̔T̛̬̲͋O͈͒ ̬̂Ṭ̛̣̓̍͢O͕̩̟̎̄̐͌̕͟͟U̖͌̽͢C̰͕̈̽H ̲̝̦̱̄͂̚͡H͕̳͒̈́IM̡̱͖͗̎͆, ͔͞I͖̰̽͠-̢̘̜̹͚̄͗̑̑͡

"FUCK, EVERYTHING HURTS, IT HURTS TO THINK, IT HURTS TO SPEAK, I JUST WANT THE PAIN TO END!"

"PRINCEY!"

"MAKE IT STOP, WHY WON'T IT STOP?"

"PRINCEY!"

"IT HURTS, IT REALLY DOES!"

"ROMAN!"

And just for a second the voices stopped, they stopped stabbing and scratching and just stayed still.

Just for a second.

"FUUCCKK-"

"ROMAN," Virgil took his face into his hands. "Roman, please open your eyes, I need to check something."

Following the instructions ( He didn't remember even closing them) he was met with pools of space and stars and a galaxy of colors that were now the eyes of Virgil and not the chestnut brown he seen less than two minutes ago.

“You have a veil, you actually have a veil..”

“ The fuck does that mean, Surly Temple?”

“It means that someone has blocked something from your conscious thoughts.”

“What?”

“That’s not important, what is would be the fact that you’re going to want to bite onto something because this is going to hurt and I don’t want the neighbours getting any ideas.”

For the second time that day, Lunaper stuff his jacket into Roman’s mouth.

“I’m sorry..”

Even with the jacket the screech the Xia made would probably beat his Pa’s infamous falsehood.But with the pain gone and the veil dropped he could now see everything so much clearer.

So the moment when Virgil took the gag out of his mouth, he pulled him close and claimed his lips.

[stimsensory]

Getting Diagnosed: 2

After I had been referred for assessment, I was apparently seen in school by a Community Paediatrician. I don’t actually remember any of this, but apparently the meeting was fairly short and, according to my parents, I asked some rather blunt, inappropriate questions, such as asking whether the doctor (who I assume had an accent) was speaking English. Now, I can get how embarrassing and rude that must’ve been, but at the time I probably only asked because I was struggling to understand them (I still struggle with strong accents sometimes, or even no accents when overwhelmed, but I wouldn’t ask that now!).

The paediatrician basically summarised that whilst I showed quite a lot of traits of Asperger’s Syndrome, they wanted to wait and get more information before coming to a conclusion, which is fair enough. The appointment was fairly short, and it can be very difficult to get a full view of someone’s development after only a single, short, meeting.

At this point, my parents started looking into private options. For readers outside of the UK: most British people don’t use private healthcare, as we rely upon the NHS for many, if not all, of our medical needs. It is not common for people to buy private healthcare. It tends to allow you to essentially jump from a long queue to a shorter queue, and can mean longer appointments. Nowadays, the NHS still provides amazing physical healthcare. However, it’s mental healthcare has long waiting lines. Once you finish waiting, the care can be great. But many are forced to wait for months, if not years, for assessments for disorders like ASD.

Luckily for us, my dad had private healthcare from his employers (again, not a very common occurrence as far as I know) so we were able to seek private help. I saw a Child Neuropsychologist for around an hour a week for 6 weeks (as far as I remember). This allowed her to get to know me better and see me for longer. Rather than just seeing me once, she saw me across a longer timeline and therefore had a better understanding of my problems.

From what I remember, essentially I went to a lady’s house every week, and sat with her in the kitchen whilst my parents waited in a little room with a sofa. I remember we would do a variety of tests, that I actually enjoyed because they seemed like puzzles. For example, I remember I had to read a paragraph and recall some of it (not really interesting), and decode some symbols (way more fun). So I thought that was pretty cool, even if I didn’t actually really know what was going on or why. To be honest, I don’t remember caring that much. Maybe I thought it was tutoring, or some kind of test for school.

I did not realise my social skills were also being assessed, which is actually very good as it meant I would not have been tempted to camouflage any ‘odd’ things I did. At that point, I wasn’t really aware of which of my behaviours were considered ‘weird’, or which of my social skills were lacking. All I really knew was that I did not understand people and most of them did not understand me. I would much rather read than socialise, because other people were confusing and stressful. I had no clue why every other child could easily make friends, but rejected me almost instantly. Even according to my diagnosis, most of my classmates apparently found me annoying, whilst a few ‘tolerated’ me. So overall, I understood that I was not behaving ‘normally’, but I had no clue how to figure out what I was doing ‘wrong’ or how to change it.

Anyway, one specific aspect of the social evaluation always stood out to me. I remember at one point the Neuropsychologist told me I could bring in toys if I wanted. I took this to mean that I ought to bring some toys in, and therefore took some Sylvanian families toys in to the next meeting. From my own perspective, she never brought the toys up during the session, which confused me. I assumed I was meant to play with them, because why else would she have told me I could bring them? So I just stopped a task and played with them, because I wanted to and because I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Now, according to my assessment, “[I] would suddenly break away from a task we were in the midst of to take out a toy to play with”. Which, whilst technically true from the view of an observer, does not really fully explain my behaviour. As a side note, that is one of the main problems I find in many aspects of autism research. Many researchers make assumptions from their own, non-autistic perspective, and often assume that is the only possible reason for engaging in a certain behaviour. They often also use autism theories to explain them, which again may rely upon inferences. If the Neuropsychologist had asked why I brought the toy out I could have told her (which is not possible for many non-verbal autistic people).

Other than the above though, the Neuropsychologist noted a lot of my autistic traits. She reported after around 20 minutes I started to get fidgety in my chair (something still true today!) and was very observant of visual details. I did not engage in conversation without prompting, and made variable, occasionally inappropriate eye contact. I apparently lacked a ‘Theory of Mind’. I agree that at that point, I did not really have a well developed ToM, but now I do believe I have a fairly good ability to understand and empathise with other people, if I can figure out what they are feeling and why. I think this ToM developed in secondary school, when I essentially realised and reluctantly accepted that others did things for reasons I did not know, and would not tell me. I did not understand why others did seemingly inexplicable things, and kind of took too long to realise they don’t automatically know what I mean or experience.

When she did IQ tests, she found I had an uneven skill-set. I won’t say what my exact IQ scores were, because many people (myself included, some of the time, unless it is specifically asked) find it pretentious. But basically I did very well on the ‘Perceptual Reasoning Index’ which had stuff like visualising 3D objects I think, and a lot lower on my ‘Working Memory’, ‘Verbal Comprehension’, and ‘Processing Speed Index’. I also had a very low executive skill score, along with a low visual-motor skill score. That is the reason I was allotted extra time in exams; my processing speed is far slower than would be expected from the other scores.

At the end of all of this, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. In more recent documents, this is usually referred to as ‘High Functioning Autism’ of ‘Autism Spectrum Disorder’, as Asperger’s is no longer diagnosed in the DSM-5. My parents told me about the diagnosis a few months after I got it. I remember reading a few notes that suggested they were told to wait until I was around 15-16 to tell me. I am very glad they told me earlier, as it meant I no longer felt like I was just failing at socialising whilst everyone else was passing without even trying. I do not exactly remember how they told me, but I think my reaction was a little anti-climactic, as I had never really heard of autism or Asperger’s before that, which is probably good as I did not have to deal with all of the fear mongering in the media. I had no previous assumptions about autism, other than ‘huh, that’s a thing that I have that explains why I struggle with social stuff’. Once I started researching autism, it was amazing to read other people’s accounts and just think ‘hey! I do that!’ and feel like you weren’t the odd one out any more.

My actual diagnostic assessment had a lot more in it (it’s a fairly long document), but I’ve kept it brief because it’s quite personal, and because this post is already pretty long.

From what I’ve read and seen, diagnostic assessments have changed a lot over the past few years. It can apparently take months, even years, for that fairly short initial appointment. I was also lucky to have a Neuropsychologist who was aware of the differences in how autism often presents in females vs males. Nowadays, there is more attention being paid to autistic females who may have gone undiagnosed, which is hopefully a step in the right direction.

[myukulelegentlyweeps]

Nowhere Man - Part III

A/n : Okay so I guess you could say in comparison with what I’ve written so far this is pretty angsty? I struggle with anxiety, and I thought it would be nice to write about how George would handle it and be all sweet about it so here it is. If you don’t like angsty stuff / you find descriptions of panic attacks triggering, you can just skip right along to the next part. Don’t worry, all in all it's pretty fluffy anyway

Warnings : Descriptions of anxiety, of a panic attack

Word count : 1455

SPECIAL THANKS TO @1968georgeharrison who beta-read and helped with the editing (also she has an amazing url, 1968 George is one of my favourite Georges ; go follow her, her blog is great)

“Mary, I’m going now!”, hand on the doorknob, you made one last call to your roommate, who was sitting in your living room flipping through the pages of a magazine - the cover read, amongst other things, a small title in red letters, “Beatles to break up soon?”, which saddened you in spite of yourself. They were half the world population’s favourite band - that included you - and it was not going to be easy to let go of these years of charisma and great music. The four lads had practically defined an era and Lord knows it’s hard for people to move on ; if any of them tried to carry on with a solo career, it was safe to say the “Beatle” title would follow them around.

It was not only the press’ suppositions. George himself had told you about Paul’s desperate efforts to delay the inevitable, which was ultimately making into more of a bossy asshole than anything. What had once been The Great Beatles was now falling apart into a strange combo of four tired men being passive-aggressive toward each other as Yoko waltzed around the studio eating his biscuits. George was very fussy about his biscuits. All jokes aside, you saw how tense and irritable he was when he left the sessions, and for that a part of you was hoping Let It Be would be their last album. You cared about him too much to watch him suffer in this manner.

“Off to see loverboy then?”, she looked up from her reading, an obvious smirk painted across her face as she continued : “Don’t forget what I -” “I know, I know, get an autograph for your little sister whose birthday is coming up.” you cut in mid-sentence. “She’s cute and I’ll do what I can. But you’ll owe me big time, you’re putting me in a very awkward position here.” Usually people do not have to ask their friend/love interest for an autograph. It did not help that you were already somewhat nervous about meeting him that afternoon. You were unsure where the two of you stood : you had not seen each other since the night of the kiss and, though said kiss had meant the world to you, you could not just assume it was the case for him. Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss.

You closed the door behind you and made your way down the staircase, taking deep breaths as you felt the anxiety beginning to rise in your throat. It saddened you - normally the perspective of seeing George made you happy, cheerful, bouncy even. Why did your brain do this to you? Once you had exited your building you started pacing hastily, eyes fixed on the sidewalk, trying to keep your vision from blurring. Maybe the nerves would fade once you got there.

They did not. In fact, they got worse. It was not so much George himself, whom you had greeted with an awkward ‘I don’t know whether we are friends or something more’ hug - he was smiling at you and being kind as always. But you wondered over and over again, Should I ask him for the autograph now? Should I wait a little? What will he think of me, he’ll get annoyed… and once your anxiety had been triggered, you knew your chances of calming down completely were slim. The coffee shop seemed to be louder than ever before. You were hyper-aware of every small noise, a customer speaking, a machine’s whistle, a teaspoon stirring sugar into a warm drink, and this diabolical orchestra of overlapping instruments played in your head like a class of kindergartners trying to decide on who gets to play with the all-favourite toy.

“Are you alright there (y/n)? Y’look a bit pale.”, he placed his hand on your upper arm, a mix of doubt and worry in his brown eyes, sensing your distress. “I’m fine…”, you said weakly. Your eyes shifted back to the queue in front of you : it suddenly appeared immense, as if the counter were miles away. Your heart pounded in your chest at a speed that almost scared you. You knew what you had to do, you knew what the healthy thing to do was. But could you tell him? So early on, you barely knew him, what would he think? Would it be oversharing? Would he judge you? What if he didn’t understand and- “(y/n). You’re shivering. Are you sure yer okay?”, his voice echoed once again in your ears, half-mixing with the rest of the cacophony. The wave emerged from the darkest depths of your head and you realised it too late to be able to stop it in time : tears started streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. Of course your anxiety only increased, as it was the first time you were crying in front of him and your brain tortured you with assumptions about his opinion of you. He hates me now. I’ve ruined everything. Not that he ever liked me anyway, he just pitied me ; how did I ever think I could be good enough for him, a Beatle, for heaven’s sake… Your ears had now been completely detached of the coffee shop and were filled to the brim with your accelerated breaths. Seeing yourself shake only frightened you more ; you closed your eyes to shut every possible further trigger out.

While your panic unravelled, George stood next to you ; very concerned at first, he then seemed to realise something and his expression shifted slightly. He knew what this was. A friend of his suffered from anxiety, and he had been there during two of his panic attacks. Of course he was no expert, but at least he knew something about how he could help. He remembered his friend telling him that any additional stimuli during a panic attack, when the person is at her most fragile and vulnerable, was to be avoided ; he also understood, however, that he needed to get you out of the coffee shop before you could begin to calm down. He supposed touching you counted as a stimulus, but he could not think of another way : he reached to gently grasp your hand and led you outside without a word. You followed him almost subconsciously, too overwhelmed to comprehend what he was doing. Once you were out on the sidewalk and two cars drove by at full speed, he figured the city streets were not the ideal setting and, after a few seconds of hesitation, guided you toward the zebra crossing, still holding your hand.

Soon enough, you reached a bench in a very peaceful Hyde Park, where London’s busy streets felt like a bad dream you had finally woken up from. You hastily dried your eyes with the back of your sleeve, feeling significantly better - your breathing, at least, had slowed down. But your brain was still rushing and, according to it, the worst was yet to come. You would have to explain what happened to somebody you cared deeply about, whose judgement you feared above all others. You were trying to delay it by staring at your feet intently, but eventual confrontation of the problem was inevitable.

George was the first to break the silence : “Are you better, love?”. You nodded slowly in response, trying to work out an acceptable string of words of reassurance in your head. “I’m so sorry, George, I...I just…” Happy to hear your voice again, he gave you a small smile. “It’s okay (y/n), really, you don’t have to explain or justify anything.” “But I do.”, you replied with a slightly shaky voice. “No, you really don’t. I know what it is, a friend of mine ’s’got it too. That’s why I brought you to the park, thought it might help to get you away from the sensory overload of the city. Plus it doesn’t even matter what it is, I’m just glad you’re okay now.” After a short silence, he grinned mischievously and added : “Does it count as overstimulation if I kiss you?” Still a bit shaken, you nevertheless decided to go along with the attempt to lighten the mood. “I don’t know...I’d have to get back to you on that, but trying it is the only way to know, innit?” His smile widened and your lips joined into a sweet kiss which gave you the wonderful feeling of butterflies in your stomach, just like the first time. Which reminded you :

“George, I’m sorry to say this now, I guess it isn’t the best time but I have to know...What are we?”

“Well, again, I don’t know if it counts as overstimulation ; but I would love to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

[inanawesomewave]

YOU’LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN - WHEN SOCIOPATHS DISCARD, AND WHY

My favourite song in the world is probably Surfing on a Rocket by AIR. It’s not my most listened-to song in the world, it’s not one that I make other people listen to when I’m trying to get them onto my wavelength, I don’t even think I have it saved on my phone, but it’s the one that has been, undoubtedly, playing in the background of every single goodbye I have said, and interestingly, every single goodbye I have said, I have been happy to have said. 

 “Time for surfing rockets, for silver jets, for surfing bombs” . I took the plunge recently and googled “sociopathic friend”; “sociopath ex”; “how do you know you’re working with a sociopath”; “sociopath tactics for control”. I hate all of those articles that get written arming the general public away from the cold, dead eyes of the mythical sociopath, how the armchair diagnosis of the callous sociopath has become a panacea for all emotional ailments. In fact, I find it downright dangerous and maladaptive to offhandedly but systemically give a clinical name to bad behaviour and worse, a diagnosis to someone who just didn’t love you. I saw a thing the other day on Facebook (I’m on there, don’t be surprised) and it was this really painstakingly drawn picture of a guy pulling anal beads out of his asshole and within each anal bead was a tiny Pikachu figurine, crying, and the thing the guy was anally pleasuring himself to was the cold light of his mobile phone, and on the screen, a picture of himself. The caption was something like, “The Narcissistic Sociopath”. I look at stuff like that and I think, “Imagine going to all the trouble of drawing this, and still not realising that maybe the problem is you?”.  Don’t get me wrong, friends, I agree we should be able to put a name to the abuses we have suffered, but I just don’t think that yelling SOCIOPATH! NARCISSIST! whenever someone, oh I dunno, cuts in front of you in a queue (they’re in a rush, they’re busy) or cheats on you (maybe they were fucking depressed?) or tells you to go to hell (you were being a dickhead) is getting anyone anywhere. It’s not even the scaremongering I disapprove of because honestly, I was a goth at school so there’s something in that spooky ooOOOoooOOoo CREEEPY sociopath oooOOOoo! aesthetic that I dig, but I worry about what it’s doing to the accusers. I worry it’s self-appointed sainthood, that martyrdom is becoming a worthy cause, that the true narcissism is diagnosing someone with a complicated and pervasive mental illness because they upset you and then setting up a YouTube channel where you talk about the menace of the narcissist or the sociopath. I worry, because lack of insight is the most troubling part of insanity. 
So why did I google this stuff? 
Because I was so, SO curious. I wanted the gossip. How out of line was it? What do they SAY about us? Have we been clever all this time, are we not going undetected? What of our secrets do the general public know? And how do I spot a sociopath? Could I too be spotted? Is it my eyes? Are they empty?  It was exactly what you’d expect, and I didn’t feel too bad reading the myths and folklore surrounding us. For example, did you know that we’re incapable of love? We can’t keep friendships? That mind control comes naturally to us? I didn’t know any of this either, but if these are the lies that keep people entertained, whatever. Because what that means, is real sociopaths are going undetected. We’re being left alone. We’re getting on with our lives with impunity, because nobody suspected us when we married the loves of our lives, doted on our children and moved mountains to help our friends. 
But then I read something that made me feel a little bit… seen:

 “One of the most painful and jarring aspects of a pathological relationship is the cold and calculated discard… they say it’s over but you don’t understand why… they tend to catch you off guard and wholly unprepared for this horrific fate.”
 The writer of this diatribe even went so far as to predict some of the things we might say to you when we’re calculatingly fucking off and leaving you, they include:

 “I don’t want to be in a relationship” 
“We are just not compatible” What the fuck? 
 Okay. So here’s where the thrust of this blog is going to be. 
 Are sociopaths not allowed to need to leave something that is hurting them? 

I’ve ended relationships, I thought fairly, using those two phrases before. You know how hard it is to upkeep the performance of love and commitment with someone who has grown away from you in such a way that you can’t work out why you were ever together? Or what if that relationship has become stultifying, the person in question has neglected themselves and you to such an extent that you’re having to do everything, take on all the roles they need and do all of the things they can’t but it’s okay because they don't have a personality disorder? What's sociopathic about walking away? What’s so inherently evil about saying, “I don't want to do this any more”? Is it a quirk of sociopathy to realise your mistake when you thought you were meant to be near someone and then you realised being near them was painful because they aren't the answer to your problems and you're tired? I wondered, for all the talk we hear about self care and cutting out toxic people, are we not allowed to do that? Does self care not count if your self interest is clinical? 
 But I know what it is, really. I’m being naive. It’s something all sociopaths do that we think is normal so to conceive of anyone being hurt by this is impossible and then that good old lack of empathy and its failure to kick in is what keeps us doing this over and over with — if you’re anything like me — an unwillingness to change that behaviour. 
It’s the fact that we just walk away. It’s the word “discard”. Sociopaths are cold and callous when one day we tell you we love you and we’ll speak to you soon, and the next we’ve deleted you off all social media and out of our lives. Okay, I’ll concede to that. Here’s why, though. 
 “Five, four, three, two, one, zero, no-one can stop me to go”. Losing respect for someone is a big deal, in Sociopath Land, and if you believe that we are all incapable of love and so affection and commitment are illusions then you're wrong. Our love is based on respect, for everyone in my life I have adored, I have respected the bones of and I have been in love with their respect for me, since if I’m offering up a love and a life based around my overwhelming respect for someone, I expect it back, because it's not sociopathic to appreciate that the transaction of respect must be equal at all times. I will fight very hard for my respect for my partners, friends and family, and often, if I feel I'm losing respect for someone (and this never happens at random — I lose respect when I sense respect is being lost for me, because then I think that person is being selfish and lazy and exploitative because hi, yes, that's what it is) I will accept that I'm often paranoid and usually wrong and will fight tooth and nail to hang onto that shred of respect I have for that person. I will fight especially hard if that's a person I’d love to keep in my life, if I’ve analysed that their presence in my life is a good one: we make each-other feel good, I can talk to them, I want to help them when they're struggling. And people won’t like this but fuck it, people don't like us: if I see someone as weak by their own volition, I don't want them near me. 
 So these are the reasons I’ll stay, or leave. But what’s really cold, is it doesn't matter what came before. All that matters is the moment I decide I don't respect you any more. Yes, I will tell you one moment that I love you and can’t wait to see you again, and the next time you try to contact me my number has changed and my online presence has disappeared. All you know, is that something bad has happened, and whilst I didn't think of this, I'm aware that your reaction would at first be to worry that something has happened, something alien beyond both of our controls. You will ask around, if something bad happened to me, did I have to run away somewhere, was I in danger? And then it will dawn on you when you realise that I am what I am: I just don't love you any more, and I don't love you because you became someone I could not respect, or you used too much of my emotional energy up, or you started treating me as an afterthought, or you stopped listening to me and only cared about yourself, or you prioritised your ease over my pain, or I sensed you were discarding me, or you took the piss out of me and reminded me of the emotional neglect I came from, or you started to behave in ways I found deplorable, or you actively hurt me, or you simply just became someone I found myself wanting to laugh at rather than wanting to help, and the reason I want to laugh now is because I can’t find a way to respect you. But I respect you enough to leave. Because if I don’t leave, I’m going to have to stay, and if I stay when I have no respect for you, then I no longer have a filter. I don’t want to spare your feelings any more. You will talk about your life and your dreams and your loves and hates and nothing in me will want to listen or support you or love you or expend the psychic energy required to listen to you drone on and on and on again about your homemade problems, your bad behaviour, your pretend struggles. And I will have no reason to give you my mask — you no longer deserve the “I'm proud of you!” and “you can do it!” and “how can I help?”. And the more and more I sit there and listen to you talk the angrier I become. So in this sense, discarding is a panic move. If I were to play devils advocate, I'd say discarding is safeguarding. It’s better for you that I disappear from your life so hard that you have to wonder if I ever existed, because if I stay, I might have to tell you what I really think of you, and once I do that, I feel a game has begun. And when I discard you, it’s because, as I said above, I’ve started to sense your discard of me, and your discard is long and drawn out and painful — people all the time suddenly stop being there for their friends, become incapable of caring about anyone but themselves, failing to upkeep the relationship, asking for labour but refusing to give it back. At least the sociopath’s discard is quick and painless — I have no interest in sticking around and watching you squirm, I just want to get away from you so that sticking around and watching you squirm doesn’t become a viable option for me, one that I turn to out of sheer frustration and anger and aggressive disrespect made all the more furious with the betrayal that comes when you once respected someone with all your might. No, I’m just going to walk away and close every single door, tape off every single avenue, kill every single possible lead that could lead you back to me. This is done. We never met. You don't know me. Look the other way. 
 
So yes, that's something they’ve got right, but is it really so evil? Is that an example of true malevolence? It may seem fair to me, but what do I know? 
Let me know what you think. 

“You’ll never see me again”.