#backpacks have a million tiny spaces for things to hide! get used to living out of disposable plastic bags on trips for a little dude

[bladeofthestars]

.

[hetacon]

A Little Help

Word Count: 2,100

Pairings: Platonic/Parental Moxiety, Background/Implied Platonic LAMP

Warning: Crying, Virgil has anxiety and depression per usual, a little self-deprecation

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Summary: Patton, a borrower, lives in the house of Virgil. While Virgil does alright financially, he feels anything but great as he struggles with anxiety and depression. Luckily he has an invisible helping hand to brighten up his day.

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Note: This is inspired off of this post by @randomslasher and I’m really pleased to post it! Also I would like to add that the song Patton sings is “Ready Now” from the Moominvalley soundtrack, sung by the lovely Dodie Clark! Feel free to listen to it when he starts singing! The lyrics are tweaked a bit to fit the story! I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I do!

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The first time Patton heard Virgil was of him singing. It was the first time Patton discovered of Virgil’s existence.

Patton didn’t notice it because of how silvery and symphonic it was.

Virgil was choking out words, heavy tears streaming down his face.

Patton heard his voice break.

He peeked through the opening in the vent.

Virgil looked like he would shatter into a million pieces.

And Patton felt his own heart do so in turn.

This person, who Patton had never met, or even seen before, looked so broken and Patton wanted to help. He wished he could. He and other borrowers weren’t treated well by a majority of people but that didn’t stop him from wanting to help this boy.

So Patton started to recognize his routine patterns.

Virgil always woke up late in the morning. Patton saw that the best way he woke up was from the light that would shine through the window on to his face. Not a pleasant way to wake up exactly but without it, Patton knew Virgil would be late for the things he always had planned. So Patton always made sure to shift the curtains the tiniest bit in the morning, just enough to let a little sliver of sunshine flit over Virgil’s eyes. Without another word, he was off to hide and plan out the rest of his day.

He did other things for Virgil to help out. Virgil oftentimes forgot a little black cube he liked to fidget with for example. Virgil would come home more stressed when he forgot, Patton realized, so he made the effort to push it into Virgil’s open backpack before he left the apartment. He shifted and organized things for Virgil to find easier. He always made sure to write a little addition on Virgil’s schedule for him to take a deep breath and relax. Even if he had no idea just how much it was helping, he took little joys in the moments Virgil was happy.

Sometimes it was bigger things that he helped out with. Virgil always forgot to take his medication so when Virgil wasn’t looking, he’d tip over one of the lighter bottles. He couldn’t help how happy he got to see Virgil’s attention shift to the noise or movement and sigh before taking his medication. Patton took great joy in ensuring that task was complete.

And so that brings us to now. Patton heard the same heartbreakingly silvery song as usual. Patton couldn’t help but softly mouth the words, trying his best to memorize it. It was a wonderful message and feeling that the lyrics portrayed and it made Patton sad to know that Virgil didn’t have that feeling, that support in his life.

Virgil fell asleep, a trouble and teary expression still on his face when he drifted off. With a deep breathe, Patton quietly slid through the vent and walked over the soft carpet to get to Virgil’s bed. He struggled getting on to it but once he did, he went to sit next to Virgil’s face.

He lost his voice for a moment but upon seeing the tear tracts again, he smiled softly, leaning his head against Virgil’s cheek and working up the courage to speak.

“You’re doing good, kiddo, you’re doing so good. I’m so incredibly proud of you for being here right now,” Patton whispered before taking a deep breathe. “I know you don’t know I’m here but even if you never find out, please know that I’m always rooting for you, kiddo, I will always love you. Nothing in the world could ever make me stop.”

He spent a few more minutes softly talking to Virgil and upon seeing the boy’s expression soften, he leaned over, kissing Virgil’s cheek gently. “Goodnight my sleepy starling, everything will be alright. Just hang in there, I’m always going to be right here even if you don’t believe things will get better. They will, I promise you that,” he whispered before giving him one last kiss on the tip of his nose. And with that, he was off, hiding within the walls again.

Life planned for the two of them to finally meet though and as Patton was suffering from a cold, he slipped up and accidentally alerted Virgil of his presence. Patton hid, his breathing heavy as he stared at the wall. He swallowed thickly. He braved himself to run. He loved this boy with all of his heart but if Virgil didn’t reciprocate that, he’d have to abandon any and all affections without a second thought.

“Hey, it’s ok, whatcha doing there?” A soft voice asked.

Patton peeked out from behind the cereal box on the counter.

Virgil seemed to have noticed how tense Patton looked so he scooted back a little. “It’s cool, I need my space too,” he shrugged, giving Patton a lopsided smile.

Patton still didn’t say a word.

“Are you a borrower?”

Well, at the very least, he wasn’t using any derogatory terms for his kind, that was a bit of hope at least. He smiled a little and nodded. He couldn’t help his heart melting as Virgil smiled back.

“Sorry you guys always have to sneak around so much, people can be such assholes. You’re just like us even if you’re just a bit smaller.”

“It’s ok, we’re used to it by now,” Patton finally said.

“Well yeah, I’d imagine. You guys shouldn’t have to is what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, it’s not fun..” Patton sighed as he stepped out from behind the box, sitting down at the edge of the counter, his hands clasped together in his lap. “It’s so much easier to see you now, you’re always so blurry all the time!” he finally said, smiling more.

“Is it common for you to not be able to see things properly when they’re further away?”

Patton nodded and frowned as Virgil sighed, clicking his tongue.

“Gotcha, I’ll see about getting you some glasses, ok?”

“You can get those for people like me?” Patton asked, looking up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, totally. I don’t want you to be struggling because of this.”

“Thank you,” Patton nodded, closing his eyes as he breathed happily.

“You’re welcome, I want to help you out in any way I can, as long as you’ll let me.”

“My name is Patton,” the borrower said, holding out his tiny hand. Virgil gently gave him his finger.

“Hi Patton, I’m Virgil.”

In Patton’s head, all he could think was ‘Yeah, I know, kiddo.’

From that day on, Patton got to know a lot more about Virgil. He started to let his efforts of helping be more noticeable now that he no longer feared being discovered. Whenever Virgil would forget to take his medication, Patton just went over to his desk, rested his hands on Virgil’s sleeve, and ask if he’d taken them that day. It was always no, Patton knew he hadn’t, but it gave Virgil gentle encouragement to do so. Patton had been extremely happy when Virgil had come home one day, offering him a few new sets of clothes—a light blue polo shirt, khakis, and a cardigan, as well as pajamas—and a small pair of glasses that fit Patton’s face perfectly. Patton beamed as he could see everything clearly and spent the rest of the day wandering around, looking around at everything. Patton didn’t even realize Virgil watching him, a soft, adoring smile on the latter’s face.

And over the course of only a few months, Patton noticed a change in Virgil. He seemed to be doing a bit better. He even started having a friend over, a guy by the name of Roman Prince. And with Roman was usually another person just like Patton, another borrower, named Logan. Patton was quick to become attached and he and Logan became fast friends despite their vastly different personalities. But even with these two new friends, Patton still loves Virgil the most.

Virgil had accidentally slipped up and called Patton “Dad” once and Patton felt his heart grow warm. He scolded the apologies that followed, quickly following with a couple “kiddo”s of his own. And so Virgil felt safe to call Patton his dad from then on. Patton liked to joke about being Virgil’s own little “Pocket Papa”. All joking aside though, Patton treated Virgil just like his own kid. He loved him just as much for sure.

So as Patton heard sobbing in the middle of the night, he quickly slipped his glasses on and got up. He started to head over to Virgil’s bed.

There was no song this time, no broken notes, no words depicting hope for Virgil to hold on to, no music for him to comfort himself with. Almost as if Virgil wasn’t seeing any of it as possible tonight.

“Virgil?” Patton asked softly, sitting down near Virgil’s face. Virgil choked out sobs, trying to calm down knowing that Patton was awake. “No no, it’s ok to cry, I’m not going to judge,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice laced with love and understanding. He smiled sadly as Virgil started crying harder. Patton just sat there, giving him soft words of encouragement.

After calming down a little, Virgil switched on the lamp next to his bed, able to see Patton properly now, and Patton Virgil. Patton went over, wiping away Virgil’s tears the best he could.

“Why am I not better, Dad? It’s been 4 years since this has happened, why am I not fixed?” Virgil choked out.

“Kiddo, no one has the right to say that you need to be all better by now. You take all the time you need to heal and feel better from this. No rushing is needed.”

“But I have you and Roman and even Logan, I have people in my life, I don’t know why I still feel so alone and awful all the time... Why can’t I get over everything? Why do their comments still affect me so much, Dad..?”

Patton softly rubbed Virgil’s cheek and looked over him before kissing the tip of Virgil’s nose. He did his best to brush the bangs out of his eyes.

As he sat down, he started to sing a song all too familiar to both of them.

“I’ve seen through you all this time

You’ve forgotten people are kind

You are hurting and I knew

So I’ll show you what to do

I say, ‘I will listen, tell it all. When you're finished, we'll talk more’

But you don’t quite know how so we’ll take it in turns

And to your surprise, we’ll find your words

Feet firm on the ground

We’ll stand hand in hand

The world seems to tell you that you have a plan

Together we’ll sing

You’re ready now

Something new, something strange

Ten feet taller, you will change

Please believe me, I’m not wrong

Oh it suits you to feel strong

I say, ‘I will listen, tell me it all. You don't like the ending? Then we'll find on that's yours’

Oh, soon you will know, that's all we need

A promise of hope is enough to feel free

Feet firm on the ground

We’ll stand hand in hand

And you’ll tell the world that you have a plan

Together we’ll sing

You’re ready now..”

Virgil sniffled and looked down to Patton, his breath caught in the back of his throat. His eyes spilled over with tears again and he sat up. He carefully scooped Patton up, holding him close to his chest as he shook with sobs. Patton hugged him, nuzzling his head into Virgil’s pajama shirt. The two of them stayed there, Virgil just crying for a while.

“I love you Virgil, you’re always going to be my kiddo,” Patton started with a soft smile. “I’m always going to be right here for you, even when you don’t think things will get better ok? You’re doing so good, I’m so extremely proud of you. I will always be proud of you, there’s so much to be proud of.”

Patton heard Virgil’s breath hitch at that.

“That’s right, you’re a kid to be extremely proud of, you always will be. And everything will be ok, I promise. I’ll make sure to help you get through this, because I love you so much,” he whispered.

Virgil nodded and sniffled, holding Patton a little closer.

“Ok Dad... I trust you..”

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It is now my honor to tag everyone who requested to be tagged in that post! So @randomslasher, @now-wouldnt-that-be-nifty, @thequeensphinx, @bexxbeauty, @specklefreckle15, and @romanisbabey, this is for you guys! (Also @sleepy-starling because you’re always the main inspiration for this pairing)

Let me know what you guys think in the comments, I always love hearing from you!

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Taglist: @hickory-dickory-doc-k, @stop-it-anxiety, @virgils-paranoia, @anotheregofanficblog, @ambersky0319, @marshmallow-the-panda (As always, shoot me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglists!)

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Rogue is eleven, his best friend starts acting strange, and he doesn't understand why. Sting’s life has been a mess ever since he was eleven years old and Rogue told when he’d promised to keep a secret. Now Sting is an adult, and the only way he knows how to cope is by getting drunk and forgetting the world. When drinking nearly kills him, he gets a chance to turn his life around, and maybe fix his past mistakes.

Chapter Summary:  When Rogue is eleven, his best friend starts acting strange, and he doesn't understand why.

Chapters (3/?): 1 | 2 | 3 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

TW for mentions of abuse (from a kid's perspective)

It's mentioned in the last chapter, but Abbey was Sting's name before he transitioned.

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tur·moil | \ ˈtər-ˌmȯi(-ə)l noun : a state or condition of extreme confusion, agitation, or commotion

.

ii summer age eleven

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Rogue meets Abbey on the first day of kindergarten. Another boy is pulling Rogue’s hair, and Abbey stomps up to him and shoves him down to the ground. Then she grabs Rogue’s hand and they run and hide under the jungle gym so the teacher can’t yell at them. When Abbey grins at Rogue, he knows that they’re going to be best friends forever.

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The first time Rogue notices that something’s wrong with Abbey, it’s the second week of summer break after grade five. They’re playing soccer at the park when Gajeel shows up and tells Rogue to come home for lunch. Abbey pouts, kicking the soccer ball against Rogue’s shins.

“Come over,” Rogue says, picking up the ball. “Come have lunch with us.”

Abbey shakes her head, looking back down the road toward her house. “I can’t,” she says. “I told dad I’d come home.” She looks at Rogue and he thinks she might explain, but she just shakes her head and says, “see you tomorrow,” before taking off down the street.

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Later that afternoon, Rogue climbs up the tree fort in the back yard, and he nearly falls out when he sees Abbey, curled up in the corner with her chin on her knees. The hood of her sweater is pulled up over her head, and Rogue can see dark marks on her wrists. It makes his stomach hurt.

“What happened?” Rogue asks, shuffling over and sitting down next to her. He reaches out for her arm, but she yanks it away, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

“Soccer,” she says, staring at the spot on the floor where they’d accidentally started a fire last year. There’s still a charred mark across the wood. “’m fine.”

Rogue frowns. Abbey hadn’t fallen when they were playing soccer. He looks around and sees Abbey’s backpack shoved in the corner of the treehouse, settled on top of a pillow and a folded blanket.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asks, refusing to look at Rogue.

“You mean have a sleepover?”

Abbey shakes her head. She rubs at her face, then pulls back her hood. Rogue’s eyes widen when he sees her hair. She’s cut off her ponytail, and the dirty blond strands hang in her face, ragged and uneven.

“I mean up here,” she says, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Can it be a secret?” Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are wet, and she won’t look at Rogue. “I won’t be loud. I promise.”

Continue reading on AO3

Rogue looks back down at the house, chewing his lip uncertainly. He can see his parents through the kitchen window; both sitting at the table with their laptops. If they knew Abbey was up here, they’d smile and hug her and insist she come in for supper, but they would send her home afterward.  

“You’re too old to be having sleepovers with girls,” Rogue’s mom had said last time he’d wanted Abbey to stay. “Her dad isn’t comfortable with it.”

Rogue thinks that’s stupid, because they’ve been having sleepovers since they were six years old. And Abbey isn’t like any of the girls at school anyway – Rogue doesn’t want to have sleepovers with Kira or Yukino, but Abbey is different.

Abbey is Rogue’s best friend.

“Please,” Abbey says, sniffling again and pulling her knees tighter against her chest. “Dad doesn’t feel good and I don’t wanna go home. I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Okay,” Rogue whispers, shuffling closer. “Yeah. You can always stay here.”

This time when he reaches out, Abbey lets him hug her. Rogue can feel her shaking under his arm and he pulls her closer. Something feels wrong in Rogue’s stomach and he doesn’t know how to fix it. It feels like the time they’d eaten too much popcorn at movie night and he’d almost wanted to throw up but couldn’t.

Rogue wants to ask a million questions. Are you hurt? Why’s your dad sick? Why did you cut your hair? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?

Instead he asks, “are you hungry?”

Abbey shakes her head, but Rogue knows she’s lying. He always brings extra snacks to school because she forgets her lunch a lot, but today she wouldn’t even eat the blue fruit roll-ups that Rogue had brought to the park.

Maybe she’s getting sick, too.

They sit together for a long time, until Abbey is almost asleep against Rogue’s shoulder. When Rogue’s mom calls him in for dinner, he squeezes Abbey’s hand and promises to be back soon.

-----

As soon as Rogue’s parents are asleep, he sneaks out the window and climbs back up into the tree house. Abbey’s asleep, but as soon as Rogue pops his head in, her eyes fly open and she sits up, backing away from him.

“Oh,” she says after a second. “Hey.”

Rogue hands her a container with leftovers in it – his mom had made kraft dinner with hot dogs, which Rogue knows is Abbey’s favorite. He also pulls up a duffel bag filled with snacks, a water bottle, his favorite sweater, and his old iPod.

“Thanks,” Abbey says softly once she’s eaten and they’re curled up along the side of the tree fort where the roof is open to the stars. Rogue’s lying on his back and Abbey’s right next to him, her head on his arm.

“It’s okay,” Rogue says, pulling up the blanket to cover both of them. “It’s always okay.” The iPod is resting on his stomach and they’re sharing headphones, listening to something soft and sad while they stare up at the constellations. “I wish you could stay here all the time.”

“Me too,” Abbey says, tipping her head and resting it against Rogue’s. “When we’re grown-ups we’ll live together, right?”

Rogue nods, reaching down and taking Abbey’s hand. “Yeah,” he says, sliding their fingers together. “We’ll have a big house with a big TV and all the Pokémon games, and we can buy ice cream all the time.”

Abbey giggles, squeezing Rogue’s hand. The sound makes his stomach feel fizzy, like the bubbles when he drinks root beer too quickly.

“You’re my favorite person,” Rogue says, and he sort of feels like crying but can’t quite figure out why.

Abbey’s quiet for a second, then he hears her whisper, “you’re my favorite person, too.”

-----

Yukino’s mom is a stylist, so the next day they go over to her house and she helps Abbey fix her hair. It’s so choppy and uneven that most of it ends up gone, and Abbey’s left with short, blond curls that make her look like a boy.

Rogue thinks she’s never looked happier.

For a while after the night in the tree fort, things seem to go back to normal. Abbey tells Rogue that her dad got better, and she seems happy again, even though she never talks about what happened.

They spend every day together – riding their bikes and playing soccer with Yukino; playing D&D with Rufus and his brother; getting slurpees at the 7-11 down the street. Abbey smiles and laughs, and hugs Rogue a lot, and it seems like everything is going to be okay.

Halfway through summer holidays, Abbey shows up in the tree fort again. She won’t talk to Rogue, just begs him to let her stay. He can’t say no to her, so he just nods and hugs her and wishes he knew why she was crying.

Abbey starts showing up more often, and Rogue starts keeping things up in the fort. There’s a blanket and a pillow, a box of crackers, a water bottle, and his old iPod with all of Abbey’s favorite songs.

“Please don’t tell,” she whispers against him as they curl up together under the stars. “Promise, okay?”  

It doesn’t feel right, but Rogue loves Abbey, so he nods and whispers, “I promise.”

-----

One night near the end of summer, Rogue wakes up to Abbey knocking on his window. It’s past midnight and she’s shivering outside, wearing pajama pants and a hoodie and nothing else. Rogue quickly opens the window and leads her to the bed, then lifts up his covers so she can crawl in with him. She leaves a space between them, but he can feel her trembling, so he takes her hand and squeezes it.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Abbey shakes her head, then shuffles closer until her head is tucked under Rogue’s chin and his arm is wrapped around her. Something warm sparks in Rogue’s chest, and he pulls her close.

“I hate him,” she whispers.

“Who?” Rogue asks, even though he thinks he already knows the answer.

Abbey’s shoulders start to shake as she presses her face against Rogue’s shoulder and bunches the fabric of her shirt in her hands. Tiny, heartbroken sounds escape from her as she cries. She tries her best to hold it in, but sobs keep breaking out, and eventually she grabs the blanket and covers her face with it so that Rogue’s parents won’t hear her.

She apologizes over and over again between sobs, but Rogue doesn’t know why. It’s all she can say, and when she finally falls asleep against Rogue, all he can hear is the echo of her whispered, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

-----

The next morning, Rogue sits on the edge of his bed, chewing on his lip and looking over at Abbey. She’s sound asleep on her back, spread out with an arm thrown over her face. The sleeve of her shirt is pulled up, and there are bruises there that look an awful lot like fingerprints on her wrist.

Rogue knows she didn’t get them from soccer.

He lets out a frustrated breath, running his fingers through his hair as he watches Abbey sleep. She doesn’t look sad anymore, but her cheeks still have tear tracks on them. There’s a tiny smile on her face that Rogue hasn’t seen in a while.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Then he stands up and leaves the room as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him.

His mom’s in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, and when she sees Rogue, she raises an eyebrow. “You’re up early,” she says. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Rogue doesn’t answer, just slumps down at the kitchen table and rubs his face. His mom frowns, setting down the mugs she’d been putting away and coming to sit next to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, stroking his hair like she used to when he was little.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks. His stomach hurts again, and he’s worried that he’s going to throw up. Abbey’s going to be so mad at him. What if she never talks to him again? But she’s hurt, and she was crying, and Rogue doesn’t know what else to do.

“You can tell me anything,” his mom says. “What’s going on?”

Rogue rubs his face. “Abbey’s in my room,” he says quietly. He can feel his mom tense beside him, but she doesn’t say anything. “She came over last night. I let her in the window, and she made me promise not to tell, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what, honey?”

“Something’s wrong with her,” Rogue says. He feels like crying. “She said she got hurt at soccer, but she says that all the time, and her dad’s sick again so she has to sleep here, but I don’t understand why.”

“Her dad’s sick?” Rogue’s mom sounds as confused as Rogue feels. “Sick how?”

“I don’t know,” he says miserably.

Rogue’s mom moves closer to him, reaching out and resting her hand on his arm. “Sweetheart, no matter what you tell me, I’m not going to be mad, okay?” He wants to believe her, but he’s been lying to them, and she hates it when he lies.

He finally gives in because he just wants Abbey to be okay. “She sleeps in the tree fort sometimes,” he says, looking down at his hands. “I know you said we can’t have sleepovers ‘cause she’s a girl, but she said her dad was sick and she was always sad and crying and…”

“It’s okay,” Rogue’s mom says, pulling him into a hug. She kisses his head and he starts to cry for real now. “I’m so proud of you for telling me, even though you were scared.”

“She’s gonna hate me,” Rogue whispers, wiping his face. “I promised that I wouldn’t tell but yesterday she was crying so much, and I don’t like it when she’s sad, and now she’s never gonna talk to me again.”

“Sometimes we promise things because we think it will help the people we care about,” his mom says, “but you’re doing the right thing by telling me the truth.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” Rogue says, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.

“I know.” His mom pulls him closer and sighs, then asks, “is Abbey still sleeping?”

Rogue nods, looking down the hallway to his bedroom. “Please don’t get mad at her,” he whispers.

“Oh, honey,” his mom says. “I’m not mad at either of you. This isn’t your fault or hers. I know this is confusing, but your dad and I are going to help, okay? And Abbey can stay here for as long as she needs to.”

Rogue’s about to ask his mom what’s really happening, why Abbey is so sad all the time, but they both hear a banging sound from his room. His mom jumps up and runs down the hallway, and Rogue follows her.

His bedroom window is open, curtains blowing in the summer wind, and Abbey is gone.  

[skiesofthesketchy]

Space + Time

4:05 am.

I can’t sleep. How can I when my mind is spinning like a carnival ride. Only this ride isn’t fun. It feels like I’m holding on for dear life.

I blame him. Why did he have to kiss me? Everything was fine before. No- everything was perfect.

He was my best friend. The person I hit up to get food with me in the middle of the night. The person I share all my new music obsessions with. The person I go to when my life gets too overwhelming.

But no. One drunken night and everything has changed.

“Come here,” he said. So I wobbled over to him on the swingset outside. The noise from the party inside ceasing with the door slamming shut. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked.

“Drunk as fuck,” I laughed, plopping onto the swing next to him and almost spilling my drink. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” I offered him my red solo cup and he took a sip.

“Look up Y/N. Look at all the stars.”

“Yeah. They’re beautiful aren’t they?”

“There are millions out there. No, billions! We can only see a tiny, tiny, stupidly tiny fraction of a fraction of what’s out there. The universe is infinite and constantly expanding at the same time. Like bitch, what?? How can something that’s infinite be expanding? That’s wack as fuck. It’s just insane.”

“Wow. You’re really high, huh?”

“And drunk but shhhh... listen. We are literally out here on a fucking rock floating in the middle of space and ya know, it’s a huge fucking rock but compared to everything, it’s not even a speck of dust.”

“I hope this epiphany you’re having leads to aliens.”

“Oh, there is no way in hell we are the only planet with life but that’s a conversation for a different time.”

“Then where are you going with this one, bud?”

“What I’m saying is nothing matters.”

“Nothing matters?”

“Nothing matters. But that’s what makes everything matter a hundred times more.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying is that everything we do, everything that we are, is all gonna disappear one day. Like yeah, we’re gonna die one day but it’s more than that. Thousands of years after we die, Earth is gonna be wiped out by the sun exploding or some shit, and it will be like this planet never existed. Its history, every soul that ever lived here over the millions of years Earth has been able to sustain life, everything. It will all just... be gone.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s just a matter of time. And time... time is all we have. It’s the only thing that is certain in this fucked up little world we live in.”

“We live and we die. That’s all we know.”

“Exactly. And we don’t know when we’re gonna die. It could be tomorrow. It could be 50 years from now. There is no way of possibly knowing. So why don’t we live like that?”

“Live like what?”

“Like we could die at any moment. Why are we so caught up in shit that doesn’t matter? Caught up in working for a better future for ourselves when you might not even live long enough to see it. We need to be living in the moment, because right now is all we have. That’s what matters.”

“Well, fuck. You’re right.” Silence washed over us, the light squeak of the swings the only thing you could hear. “Ya know, I wasn’t expecting to be this enlightened when I walked out here,” I laughed.

“Life is short, Y/N.”

“That it is.”

“That’s why I have to tell you something.”

“Okay. What is it?” I turned to him.

“I’m in love with you.”

And suddenly, he was kissing me.

4:39 am.

I’m so angry at him.

I love him so much, but as a friend. I have never seen him as anything more. I never let myself think of him differently because things were perfect as they were and I didn’t want to fuck any of it up by catching feelings.

But look. He went and fucked it all up.

“We’re friends,” I said.

“Best friends. But I’m not gonna waste my life away hiding how I feel. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

“No, you’re not. You’re drunk. And high. You’re fucked up.”

“I am. But, it’s true. I love you. I have for a long time now.”

“Stop saying that. Please, stop saying that.”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N, wait!”

That was just last night. No texts or calls all day. We were both so fucked up but this is not something you can just forget the next morning as you deal with your hangover. Everything has changed.

I got up annoyed at my inability to fall asleep and trudged to my closet, grabbing an oversized sweater. I slid on my sandals and reached for my favorite hat. My favorite band’s album cover was stitched into it and memories of that concert flooded back to me. I went with the very person I’m struggling to get off my mind. He bought that hat for me because I didn’t have the money for it.

“I can’t let you buy me a hat,” I said.

“Nonsense.” Ignoring my whines, I watched him pay for it without a second thought, smiling when he placed it upon my messy hair. “It looks good on you.”

I huffed at the memory, putting the hat on anyway. Can things ever go back to the way they were? I swung my small backpack over my shoulder and headed out my front door. Maybe a walk would help clear my thoughts.

It was chilly on this early morning. The soft breeze had me walking with my arms tucked into my sweater. Birds chirped happily, the atmosphere holding a certain peace to it. Maybe everything will work out. Maybe it will all be okay.

5:21 am.

I finally made it to my favorite park. The familiar trees and the way their leaves fluttered in the wind reminded me of home. I didn’t necessarily have this destination in mind, I sort of just wound up here. My mind was off in space.

Maybe instead of being angry at him, I should be thinking about whether I love him the way he loves me. I know I can’t pretend he never kissed me, or said all that he said. We can’t go back to how things were. Maybe I do love him... or maybe I don’t. All I know is that I’m terrified of losing him. The only thing that scares me more is breaking his heart.

Let’s say we start dating. It’s amazing. Until one day it isn’t. He deserves the world. More than that, even. All the stars in the sky, from here to the outskirts of the galaxy. What if I’m not enough? I want to be enough.

“I think I’m thinking too much,” I mumble. I climbed the playground to sit upon the monkey bars, the cold metal burning my skin. Watching the early morning joggers and the start of people’s morning commute, I felt my stupid head begin to clear.

Life is simple. We humans like to get caught up in stupid things that don’t matter, just like he said. But it really is just... simple.

Do what makes you happy. Be with people who make you happy.

Being with him makes me happy.

5:46 am.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” My head jerked to the direction I heard the familiar voice from. Of course, it’s him.

“Nothing.” I looked away not being able to hold eye contact with him. “Just hangin.” He climbed up to sit next to me on the monkey bars. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came here to think but it looks like you already took my thinking spot.”

“We can sit and think together.” Silence bloomed between us and I felt his breathing match my own.

“I was thinking about thinking about you.”

I finally grasped the courage to look at him. “Me too.”

“Y/N... I’m sorry. Part of me wishes that the other night never happened.” He looked down, sadness written across his face. All I wanted to do was hug him tight and never let go.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

“The reason I had never told you how I felt is because I was scared of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.” His eyes met mine gleaming with hope. The sparkle in them only resembling beauty. “I love you more than anything and you know that. I’m just... confused,” I sighed.

“I understand.” A long silence pursued once again. “If you never want to talk to me again, I understand that too.”

“Hey, you know I don’t want that.”

“But I screwed everything up. Threw our whole friendship out the window just because I caught feelings. Feelings I’ve tried so hard to shake because I knew that you wouldn’t like me the same way and that everything would just explode in my face and we’d never see eachother again. I’ve ruined the best thing I’ve ever had,” he rambled. “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry that I love you. And I’m sorry that I can’t take it back.”

And suddenly, I was kissing him.

Every emotion I’ve felt over the last thirty-something hours took over me. I kissed him with all my anger, confusion, and... love.

Who am I kidding? I love this boy in front of me. Everything about him. I love his stupid jokes and the way he hums and taps his fingers when he’s happy. I love the way he thinks and observes the world around him. I love the way he listens to me and smiles making me feel like everything is going to be okay. I love who I am when I’m with him. How nothing else matters. I love him and he loves me. What am I so afraid of?

“Hey,” I said, breaking the kiss. “I think I love you too.”

The biggest smile I’ve ever seen took over his face. “Really?” he asked.

I laughed. “Yes,” I replied. “I’m in love with you.” Our lips met once more. All of my past emotions were replaced by pure happiness. I was so confused before, but now it feels like this was meant to be. Like the stars have aligned and are smiling down on us. Like the universe stopped for one second to recognize this moment and remember it forever, even when we all turn to dust and flutter away into nothingness.

6:04 am.

“Do you want to go grab breakfast?” he asked. “I want to take my girlfriend out for some waffles.”

“Girlfriend? You never asked me to be your girlfriend,” I teased.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled. “Um. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He looked genuinely afraid that I would say no.

“Of course.”

“Whew. I got nervous for a second.” We laughed as he helped me down from the playground.

“And yes. Waffles sound perfect.” He grabbed my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“Can we take a nap afterwards? I didn’t sleep much last night,” he spoke with a sheepish laugh.

“Oh, you’re telling me.”

*** Who did you imagine when reading this? 

*** Let me know what you think! :)

[winnwinn-moved]

heaven on earth

doyoung - fluff - 3258

    ah summer vacation. the ideal time for swimming, for surfing, for soaking up the sun. summer vacation means no rules, no worries, no problems. summer vacation is supposed to be the absolute best part of the year. and so far, summer vacation has been going pretty okay. so maybe it’s been more than okay, it’s been pretty amazing because you’re spending almost every single day with your best friend (and crush), doyoung. and you’ll soon be spending every single day with him down at the beach. yes, the beach, with the crystal clear waves, and oh so warm sand, and the best ice cream on the face of the planet. a few weeks ago, doyoung has casually mentioned that he and a couple friends (taeil and yuta to be exact) where heading down to the beach for a week of rest and relaxation.

    it sounds nice, in theory.

    really, it does.

    but then the car ride started.

    taeil’s little red corolla seemed really nice at first. it was enough space for the four of you to feel comfortable, yet close enough that you could still talk to everyone and reach over to the radio to change yuta’s kyary kyary pamyu mixtape. the trunk also has enough room to hold of your luggage too. the air conditioning works, the motor runs smoothly, and fate just so has it that you and doyoung are the two sitting in the back row. oh, and sharing a blanket. a fuzzy red blanket that doyoung draped over your legs three minutes into the ride because he saw you were shivering.

    the first three hours of the car ride passed by quickly. most of the driving was through cities and on major roads, so there was always plenty to see. the numerous road signs provided you and doyoung at least an hour of fun, and you discovered that doyoung is much better at the alphabet game than you could ever hope to be. the billboards, ranging from “real christians obey god” to “savannah’s gentleman club” and your possible favorite “real human hair wigs”, had you and doyoung cackling for hours while taeil and yuta glanced back, whispering about how cute you two are. even when there weren’t signs to entertain the two of you, doyoung seemingly could talk for hours and hours and hours, and you realized that this could actually be kind of… fun.

    but then you left the familiarity of the city and entered the great open country. for miles, all you can see is corn. and more corn. and the occasional water tower. you wonder where the hell taeil is driving you guys, and you’re starting to think he doesn’t know where he is either. your suspicions are soon confirmed when yuta yells “oh wait the map was upside down this whole time!”. doyoung has lost interest in his rambles about outer space (a topic you rather liked to hear about), and has instead decided to stare out the window blankly. you don’t want to bother him from his daydreams, despite the growing urge to say something stupid just to hear his voice, but you don’t. you decide to listen to taeil and yuta bicker instead, because that’s at least more entertaining than the corn.

    you sigh loudly. doyoung glances over at you, though you remain unaware of this, too busy messing with your shoelaces to notice his soft smile. yuta notices however, and winks at doyoung at least a million times before turning back around to try and figure out the map. doyoung blushes hard and swats at the back of yuta’s head, which gets your attention, and now you’re interested in why doyoung seems so upset. but when you ask, he only gets more red and crosses his arms over his chest, telling you that yuta doesn’t know how to keep his nose in his own business.

    “now now kids, you need to behave.” taeil yawns. “or else i’m gonna leave you on the side of the road.”

    the infinite loop of pon pon pon makes his offer tempting, but it’s getting dark, and the last thing you need is to be abandoned in a corn field. doyoung is apparently ready to take that risk though, and he whacks yuta’s head one last time before returning to his thoughts. you laugh a bit at this, and start to laugh harder when yuta whines about being mistreated.

    “you always defend doyoung.” yuta complains. “i bet he could bury me in the sand this week and leave me to drown and you would swoon over how creative he is.”

    “oh come on, i’m not that biased.” you retort, but you feel your face heating up, and know it must be obvious because the smirk on yuta’s face is so wide your half tempted to ask taeil to pretty please slap it off. “you’re just delusional.”

    “oh come on, you know you’re soft for doyoung.” taeil laughs. “you don’t need to hide it. everyone knows. except maybe doyoung, maybe he doesn’t know. we should ask him.”

    “you know i can hear you.” doyoung says slowly. he doesn’t look away from the window, and you’re worried that maybe he’s mad now. “stop teasing them.”

    “wow, doyoung, the hero we never knew anyone needed.” yuta rolls his eyes but winks at him.

    doyoung groans and pulls his tangled earbuds from his backpack. with a dramatic glare at both taeil and yuta, he puts the earbuds in his phone, then proceeds to drown them out with his music. taeil and yuta start to laugh at his reaction, and it’s obvious that doyoung is now turning up his music, so loud in fact that you can start to hear muffled lyrics pour out from the earbuds. you can’t help but smile slightly; it’s one of your favorite songs. doyoung knows this, how could he not? why would he even pick the song in the first place?

    he pulls the left earbud from his ear, handing it over. you give him a confused look, but you soon put it in, your cheeks tinting pink. yuta spins right around and there on his face once again is that wicked cheshire cat smile that makes you blush even more. doyoung does his best to ignore yuta’s grin, but soon, he too is blushing, and now even taeil has taken his eyes off the road to give you two a knowing smile.

    “it’s not like that!” doyoung’s voice sounds desperate. “i’m tired of listening to your weeb trash, and i know they are too. that’s all!”

    “okay, first of all, the persona three soundtrack is critically acclaimed, i hope burn my dread is played at my funeral, it’s not even web trash, because i am not a weeb-” yuta cuts himself short. “besides… you could have just asked to change the station. you didn’t need to share all romantic like this, but nooo, you just have to be smooth.”

    “boyfriend material.” taeil calls from the front. “ten out of ten would date.”

    “taeil you have a girlfriend.”

    “oh you’re right…”

    this of course only makes you blush harder, because even though it’s obvious to everyone in the world that you and doyoung are wildly in love, neither of you have actually done the whole confessing part yet. granted, yuta has confessed on your behalf at least a million times, and mark and donghyuck have trapped you in a group chat where they spam you pictures of doyoung doing anything (not like you’re complaining). you and doyoung have danced around the idea of an actual relationship for months now, but something is stopping the both of you, something unknown, something unnamed. countless times you’ve had to stop yourself from pulling doyoung down by the collar and crashing your lips onto his, and countless times more you’ve had to shut your big mouth from screaming “i love you” at the top of your lungs. things are hard when you’re suddenly smitten. accidental touches are no longer accidental, innocent staring is now something more, i miss you texts are not a good night, but a cry for attention and love.

    you and doyoung could practically be dating with all the time you spend with each other. he is in your fact, your best friend before anything else. doyoung’s apartment (the one he shares with sicheng) has an entire closet dedicated to your belongings, because as time passed, doyoung realized your tees and jeans were becoming more and more and his need for a coat closet becoming less and less. your favorite snacks (though often stolen by sicheng) are always stocked up in the fridge, and your favorite movies and television box sets are always piled high near the dinky television in the living room. you have a key to the apartment, tucked away safely on your lanyard, and even when doyoung isn’t there, you find yourself huddled on the worn futon, reading one of the books he picked up from the library earlier in the week. sicheng teasingly complains you two should just kick him out already, and now that you think of that, you or doyoung have never really said anything to challenge that. it’s not like you dislike sicheng, that’s humanly impossible, but the idea of living with doyoung… that’s heavenly.

    you shake your head. now isn’t the time to plan your future out, not when taeil and yuta are watching your every move to catch a crack in your apathetic facade. you cross your arms over your chest, and then suddenly remembering your outfit, take a peek down at your shirt only to realize it’s not really yours- it’s doyoung’s.

    no wonder everyone thinks you’re together.

    you look out the window, only to find the sun has sunk low in the sky, and in its place is a host of stars. you smile softly, then yawn. you’ve been driving for more than half the day, and you’re sure everyone, especially taeil, is exhausted. besides, it’s evident that you’ve lost your way. nothing seems more tempting right now than finding a tiny motel and passing out on a mattress rather than the car seat. it would be nice to stretch your legs out, walk around a little bit, shower and clean all the travel funk from your skin. and hotels have breakfast in the morning, and anything could be the imitation sausage biscuit you stomached from mcdonald’s earlier today.

    it’s as your mind has been read, your prayers answered, because doyoung says, “hey, let’s stop for the night, before taeil gets us lost in the middle of nowhere. i saw a road sign, there’s a hotel on the next exit.”

    “i think we’re all tired anyhow.” you add, tugging at your blanket.

    “of course you would agree with him.” yuta winks over at you.

    “you just yawned like two seconds ago.” doyoung glares. “so be quiet.”

    “no, i agree too. i can’t keep my eyes open.” taeil puts the blinker on. “here’s to hoping they have a room.”

    as you guys pull into the hotel parking lot, you start to wonder if you’ll be spending the night in the car. every parking space is filled with a car or truck (and occasional motorcycle). taeil circles the lot once, twice, and three times before glumly deciding that all hope is lost, the waffle house across the street is your only option, but then doyoung points wildly over to a back corner that somehow all of you overlooked, and there it is, the only free parking space in the lot. taeil whips in immediately, then parks the car and turns it off. you scramble to get out of the car, but in the process, yank not only your, but doyoung’s earbud out. he looks over at you, and upon seeing your sheepish smile, breaks into a grin as well.

    “come on love birds, i’m tired.” yuta laughs.

    after unloading your necessary luggage from the trunk, the four of your head inside to check up on room availability. yuta is the one to venture to the front counter and consult the scowling employee, and yuta is the one to come back with two room keys in hand. he tosses on to doyoung, and keeps the other in his hand. he’s whistling. why is he whistling? yuta doesn’t whistle, why is he-

    and then, with the most devious smirk a man can muster, he wraps his arm around taeil’s shoulder, pulling him in close. “hello roomie.”

    “oh no you don’t” you and doyoung shout in unison.

    yuta shrugs and taeil mimics him. before you and doyoung can clobber them, the two of them sprint down the hallway, the nasty desk manager yelling after them.

    doyoung gulps. you shove your hands into your pockets. for what seems like an eternity, the two of you remain silent, refusing to do so much as look each other. you can feel your hands go clammy, your cheeks heat up, an army of butterflies swarm your stomach. you bite down on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from blurting out something stupid, though that seems unlikely to happen thanks to the frog now stuck in your throat. you cough, and sputter, and as soon as you find the courage to speak, doyoung tries to talk as well. now you two are back to stage one, and things are even more awkward than before.

    finally, he whispers, “there’s probably two beds.”

    “o-of course there are.” you nod.

    doyoung grabs his luggage. he then proceeds to reach for yours, but you do as well, and now his hand is atop of yours and he won’t move it- why won’t he move it?!

    he gently pulls your bag from your hands, then slings it over his shoulder. he pushes his suitcase in front of him. you can do nothing but follow along silently, cursing god for allowing something so wrong, no, something so absolutely wonderful to happen to you of all people. you swallow the lump in your throat, walking so close behind doyoung you step the heel of his shoe. he turns to fix it, except you’re there, standing mere inches away, and his most immediate thought is to lean down and kiss you long and hard, but the hotel hallway hardly seems appropriate for that, so instead he mumbles an embarrassed sorry. sorry for staring. sorry for thinking outside his place. sorry for crossing the boundary. sorry for not making it known.

    doyoung stops in front of the elevator, then presses the button. you two wait, the awkward silence threatening to engulf you two, but thankfully the door dings loudly and slides open. doyoung lets you go first, then follows behind with the luggage, finding an interest in the key card. he then presses the second floor button, and the elevator doors close before it lurches upwards with a violent groan. you wince and without thinking, doyoung rests his hand on your shoulder supportively, but then he realizes what he’s done and he pulls away at once, stammering out an apology.

    “it’s f-fine.” curse your nerves.

    curse your luck. curse your situation. curse your stupid crush on doyoung. and curse doyoung above all. curse his stupidly handsome bunny smile, and his stupidly angelic voice, and his stupidly selfless love and drive for others, and his stupidly kind and idealistic heart that always finds the good in others, and, and-

    the doors slide open once more, and you hurry outside, relieved to be out of the suffocating elevator, doyoung soon pulls ahead of you, leading you down the hall to your room. taeil and yuta are nowhere to be found, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re waiting to ambush the two of you and laugh about their little scheme. the halls are dreadfully silent though, and you’re convinced that you can hear your heart slamming against your chest.

    “two fourteen.” doyoung says almost to himself.

    he slips the key card in the door, then pushes it open.

    you almost faint,

    there in the middle of the room, is the bed. yes, the bed, as in, there’s only one. one right in the dead middle, sheets so white that you can’t help but stare at it. or maybe because you realize that neither you or doyoung want to catch any sort of bug that lives in a hotel carpet, which means that the bed, yes, the one bed, will have to be shared, shared by the two of you. for the entire night. wonderful. absolutely perfect. ideal even.

`    you flee to the bathroom, bag in hand. the first thing you need to do is regain your composure. slowly, you change into your pajamas, wash your face, and prepare for the long night ahead. you don’t want to leave the safety of the bathroom however, and you don’t plan to either, but there’s a faint knocking on the door, and reality reminds you that you’re sharing a room. with doyoung. and that he also has to get ready.

    you gather your things, then slip out of the bathroom. doyoung has apparently called his side of the bed; it’s obvious by the pillow is moved and the comforter is shifted slightly. cautiously, you make your way over to bed. you mentally debate whether or not you should try to set up some sort of cot on the floor with your clothes, but the stronger part of you eventually wins out and you slowly climb into bed. immediately, your tense muscles relax and you remember that you have been in the car for hours now, and even if you’re sleeping with your crush, it’s worth it for a good night’s sleep.

    right?

    clearly, your need for sleep outweighs your fear of the unknown, and within moments, you have drifted into a deep sleep. doyoung comes from the bathroom only to find you snoring softly, your head buried under the sheets. he smiles gently, then turns off the light. he then slips into bed beside you, careful to never invade your space. for safe measure, he puts a pillow between the two of you, then closes his eyes.

    you can’t remember where you are when you awaken the next morning.  the sunlight shines in from the window to your right, and the beams dance across the sheets and cause you to smile. outside, there’s the faint song of a bird, and the occasional honk of a car, but it’s nice. you’re warm, pleasantly comfortable, so you keep your eyes closed and snuggle closer to doyoung.

    wait.

    what?!

    you open your eyes and push yourself up a few inches. however, your movement is limited by doyoung’s arms around your waist. his grip is tight, but not painfully so, just enough to make you feel… secure. still, you want to move, just a little bit, so you wriggle just enough to roll over so you’re facing doyoung instead of spooning. despite your movement, doyoung is still sleeping, his eyes shut peacefully and his lips parted slightly. his hair sticks up in every direction, and he snores lightly. your face is so close to his that your noses are brushing in a sweet eskimo kiss, and you think you must be dreaming, yes, dreaming, because this is heaven. your own personal heaven on earth. you smile and close your eyes.

    you move your head slightly, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw before mumbling, “i love you.”

    and doyoung sleeps on, but you don’t need his words to know that he feels the same exact way.

[filmfanatic82]

Anything

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10889763/chapters/24202305

Chapter 1

So this is how Trini’s life is going to end.

At 16 years old. In some remote, unmarked cavern. Lying amongst mounds of debris and rubble with a million plus year old, green glowing, freakazoid’s hands wrapped around her neck.

Trini could think of more than a few better ways to go, but at least she isn’t going to die a virgin.

A silver lining, right?

“TRINI!!!” Kimberly screams reverberate throughout the cavern.

Trini immediately snaps out of her thoughts. She glances over at Kimberly, battered and bruised beyond recognition, and instantly feels the cracks start to spread across her heart.

Trini knew as soon as Billy had began to walk her and Zack through the game plan, that this wasn’t going to be easy. Physically… Emotionally… Even mentally.  It was going to be nothing short of a gauntlet.

But, then again, nothing about being a teenaged superhero is ever easy. So why should this moment be any different?

Now, though, having to fully accept the look of pain and confusion on Kimberly’s face, Trini finally understood why.

This moment is different because of Kimberly.

Trini eyes dart across the cavern and hone in on Zack. They exchange a brief, unspoken look of uncertainty. There’s a big likelihood that this could be the end but neither of them can dwell on that now.

“Get her outta here!”

“But--” Zack hesitates, clearly torn on what to do. It’s taking every ounce of willpower not to ignore Trini’s instructions and jump into action.

The hands wrap tighter. Trini squirms, bucking her body in a last ditch attempt to get some sort of leverage to gain an upper hand. But it’s of little use. She’s pinned.

“NOW ZACK!”

Zack blinks back his tears and swallows his ever growing emotions. He gives Trini a firm, reassuring nod and then without another moment’s hesitation wraps his arms around Kimberly.

“Aye aye, Crazy Girl.”

“What? No! No! We can’t just leave her!!!” Kimberly screams out in a full blown panic as the realization of what’s about to occur sets in. She thrashes against Zack’s body, using every ounce of strength she has left to try and break free.

Kimberly isn’t going anywhere without a fight.

“It’s gonna be okay, Princess. Promise.” Trini flashes Kimberly a half-smirk, half-smile and then forces herself to look away. She knows that if she doesn’t, then she won’t be able to go through with what needs to happen next.

“Do it Billy,” Zack yells into his wrist communicator.

“Trini! No! I… I love--” Kimberly’s words cut out as the sound of teleporter echoes throughout the cavern.

Trini glances back just in time to see both Zack and Kimberly de-materialize into thin air. A momentary sense of relief washes over her.

Kimberly is safe.

And for now… nothing else seems to matter.

“Any last words?”

////////////////

TWO MONTHS EARLIER

///////////////

“Stop squirming,” Kimberly reminds Trini for the umpteeth time while repositioning her head back down.

POP.

The all too familiar sound of the clippers coming to life fills the bedroom.

Trini should be used to this. Kimberly has been “volunteering” to clean up her undercut on a weekly basis now for well over a month. Every Thursday afternoon during their after school study sessions.

And why does the word “volunteering” deserve air quotes? Because it really isn’t volunteering at all… No, it’s more like a well rehearsed play.

One where Kimberly starts off by making an indirect comment on why Trini never wears her hair up… which then naturally leads to Trini putting up her hair… which triggers Kimberly to offer to clean up her undercut… which somehow always results in Trini sitting in the middle of her bedroom, towel draped around her shoulders while Kimberly works her magic.

Every Thursday. Just like clockwork.

And why? Simple. Because Trini can’t say no to Kimberly.

“Am not,” Trini grumbles back under her breath. She lets out a nervous sigh and then tucks her chin down into her chest. “What’s taking so long, anyways?”

“Thought I’d try something new.”

“New?” Trini voice slightly cracks as she chokes down a breath of air.

“Yeah,” Kimberly hums in response. She gently guides Trini’s head to the side and re-adjusts her grip on the clippers. “I saw this awesome undercut design on my instagram feed yesterday. Kinda looked like a mandala. But not as intricate.”

“A man-what?”

“A mandala. It’s a Hindu symbol. You know that painting that’s across from the bathroom in my house? That’s a mandala.”

“You’re carving a hand into the back of my head?!” Trini’s voice jumps up an octave as panic sets in.

“Yes. Along with my initials,” Kim quipped. “Now hold still or I’m gonna fuck it up.”

Trini tries to remind herself to breathe. In through her nose and then out through her mouth. And again… And again…

All she needs to do is keep breathing.

“What? No snarky comeback?” Kimberly turns off the clippers and then brushes her fingers over Trini’s newly shorn nape, admiring her handiwork. A small, but noticeable smile crawls across her lips.

Trini catches sight of Kimberly’s smile in the mirror on the wall directly across from her and can’t help but match it.

God, that smile… It’s fastly becoming Trini’s favorite sight in the whole entire world.

“I like to leave you guessing, Princess.”

Kimberly lets a chuckle slip. “Ah, that’s better. Knew you couldn't hold back for long.”

Kimberly unties the towel around Trini’s shoulders and starts to go about cleaning up.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Riiiight.”

Trini gets up from the chair and makes her way across the room towards the mirror. She takes a moment, letting her fingers trace over the design.

The lines weave their way up Trini’s neck, crisscrossing over each other to create a simplistic yet beautiful pattern.

It’s nothing short of badass and she knows it.

“So?” Kimberly comes up from behind Trini, playfully twirling one of her fingers around a loose strand of Trini's ponytail. “What do you think?”

“Not bad.” Trini shrugs with her signature cocky smirk.

“Really? That’s it? Not bad?”

“I’ve seen better.”

Kimberly shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Trini in half annoyment and half amusement. “I think the words you’re looking for is thank you.”

Trini takes one more look in the mirror, then reaches up and pulls out her ponytail, completely hiding any traces of her undercut whatsoever.

“C’mon. Can’t you leave it up? Just for a little bit?” Kimberly finishes tucking away her tools within Trini’s desk drawer.

“No can do. My mom would so lose her shit if she knew about this.” Trini settles down on the bed and pretends to dive back into where they left off in their bio textbook.

Kimberly plops herself down next to Trini and begins to run her fingers through Trini’s wavy locks.

“You should let me cut it shorter.”

“No.” Trini immediately grows tense as her internal walls skyrocket upwards. She doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not now and definitely not with Kimberly. “What part of my mom will lose her shit did you not understand?”

An uncomfortable silence seeps in between them as Trini waits for Kimberly’s response… but it doesn’t come. Not yet.

Instead, Kimberly’s eyes hone in on Trini, ever so carefully boring tiny holes within walls.

Those eyes… Trini can’t help but wonder how someone could have eyes like that. Eyes that seem to be able to penetrate one’s soul with just a single, solidarity glance.

Eyes that no matter how hard she tries, Trini can’t seem to hide from.

“But what do you want?” Kimberly finally responds with nothing more than a whisper.

Such a simple question and yet, Trini finds herself utterly tongue tied. She doesn’t even know where to start. There’s just too many ways to answer it.

Trini wants to be able to get dressed in the morning and not feel like she’s letting her mother down simply by choosing to wear a pair of baggy jeans over a skirt. She wants to be able to hold someone’s hand without feeling like she’s being judged by everyone around her. To be able to call someone her girlfriend without living in fear of the ramifications that that one word might bring…

No. Scratch that. Trini doesn’t want to call just anyone her girlfriend. She wants to call one specific person her girlfriend… but that’s just some pipe dream better left for late night “what if” thoughts.

Kimberly Hart is straight. Straighter than straight. She’s the cheerleading, popular, date the most alpha male athlete, sorta straight.  

Kimberly Hart would never be more than just a friend no matter how much Trini wishes for it.

Trini abruptly sits up and moves off of the bed, putting space between herself and Kimberly. It’s the only thing she can do in the moment in order to maintain some sort of front.  

“It doesn’t matter.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini zig-zags her way down the semi-crowded hallway, trying her best to blend into the background. She’s come to learn that it’s easier this way. To just keep her head down and be invisible.

If they can’t see her, then they can’t single her out.

“Hey Trini! Wait up.” Jason shouts as he emerges from amongst the crowd. He jogs over in an attempt to catch up with Trini.

Trini lets out a sigh and slows down.

So much for being invisible.

It’s not like Trini doesn’t like Jason. Well, at first, maybe just a little bit… but now, after everything they’ve been through, she can’t help but see him as the big brother she never had.

What Trini can’t stand is the way that Jason manages to call attention to things. Of course, in a brotherly, “I’m just looking out for you” sorta way, but none the less, it’s still annoying.

Even months later and Trini’s still not used to people even acknowledging her, let alone having impromptu conversations in the hallways.

“Sup,” Trini mumbles while fiddling with the straps of her backpack.

“You’re still on for this afternoon? I know you said you were, but wanted to double check.”

Trini nods in response. She shifts from foot to foot, trying her best not to look too awkward.

“Good. Zordon mentioned something the other day about sensing some sort of shift in the energy levels. Could be nothing, but figure some extra training couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Right.”

“Cool. I’m gonna--” Jason gets cut off as a freakishly large, ponytail clad boy, knocks into his shoulder. His hand immediately shoots up, rubbing the spot of contact. “Geez.”

“Yo! Watch where you’re going, asshole.” Trini shouts after the boy and then turns her attention back to Jason. “You okay?”

“Yeah. All good.”

“Who was that?”

Jason cranes his neck around, trying to get a better look, but it’s of little use. The boy has already disappeared back into the sea of students.

“Not sure. Maybe Teddy? Or Tommy? Think he’s new here.”

The bell rings, cutting through the steady chatter of the hallway. Students start to scatter, all heading to their respective classes.

“Catch ya later?” Jason flashes Trini a smile and then takes off down the hallway at a slightly exaggerated jog.

“Yeah. Later.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Gym class.

The two words that Trini has come to dread with a fiery passion in her short time at Angel Grove High. It isn’t the actual class itself she hates. Ironically-- or not so ironically depending on how it’s looked at-- she loves sports.

What Trini hates about gym class, though, is the before and after portions… specifically, the locker room portions.

“Alright, Ladies. Hurry it up. Everyone needs to be out on the bleaches in the next five.”

Trini sits on the bench, in the middle of the locker room, still fully dressed. Unlike the girls around her, she makes no attempt to change whatsoever.

“Ugh. Stop staring at me!” Amanda voice carries a bit too much over the semi-crowded room.

Trini doesn’t have to look up to know that the comment is directed at her. It’s always directed at her…

“Wasn’t starin’,” Trini mumbles while keeping her eyes fixated on the lockers in front of her. “And even if I was, it’s not like you’ve got much worth starin’ at anyways.”

A chorus of snickers erupt from those within earshot. It’s a somewhat low blow, and Trini knows it.

“Fucking dyke.”

Trini automatically straightens herself up at these words. She slowly rises from the bench, locking eyes with Amanda.

Deep, down inside, Trini knows she should just let it go. That any move she makes next, with the exception of walking away, will only lead to trouble.  

But Trini can’t just let it go…

“Say it again,” Trini growls in response. Her hands clench into fists, channeling the rage coursing through her veins.

Amanda takes a step closer, never once taking her eyes off of Trini. She isn’t planning on backing down either.

“I said, you’re a fucking dyke.”

Trini start to lunge at Amanda--

“Gomez! My office NOW,” echoes throughout the locker room, bringing everyone to a crashing halt. Busted.

A victorious smirk crawls across Amanda’s face. “Yeah Gomez. Her office.”

With that, Amanda and her lackeys make their way out of the locker room.

Trini collapses back onto the bench, runs her hands through her hair and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Again Alpha 5.” Trini calls out, while stretching her neck from side to side.

It has been three hours… Three hours since Trini has gotten another month of Saturday detention thanks to her little run in with Amanda.

Three hours of running the training simulation over and over again. Regardless of how many frantic “But Master Trini…” warnings Alpha 5 chirps at her.

Three hours of pummeling virtual putties again… and again… and again…

“But Master Trini, your hand--”

“AGAIN!” Trini cuts Alpha 5 off with a burst of pent up anger.  

Alpha 5 scurries out of the pit, not wanting to stick around for Trini’s full wrath.

Trini gets herself into her ready stance, itching for another round.

Trini knows that she should probably stop.

Her left hand throbs with a white hot pain that she’s come to learn over the past few months signifies that something is broken. Most likely it’s her knuckles but possibly her wrist as well. Too hard to tell at the moment…   

“What are you doing?” Jason emerges from the top of the pit.

“Bakin’ cookies.”

Jason makes his way down into the pit and approaches Trini. He instantly spots the state of her left hand and grows concerned.

“We aren’t supposed to train alone. You know that.”

“Yeah well I needed the practice,” Trini mumbles with a shrug.

“You okay?”

An awkward silence falls between the two of them as Jason patiently waits for Trini to respond.

But Trini can’t seem to find the words. Instead, she shifts from side to side, growing more and more uncomfortable in her own skin with each and every passing second.

“Holy shit, your hand!” Kimberly’s voice cuts through the silence.

Trini closes her eyes and lets out a light sigh. “Shit.”

Kimberly scrambles down into the pit and immediately makes a beeline towards Trini. She takes hold of Trini’s left hand, bringing it upwards into the light for a better view.

There’s no denying it… it’s bad.

“Trini…”

“I’m fine.” Trini attempts to free her hand from Kimberly’s grasp, but it’s of little use. Kimberly’s not letting go.

“No, you’re not. Jase, go get the medkit. Billy stashed it away in the bunk room. Next to the desk.”

“On it.”

Jason takes off, out of the pit, leaving Kimberly alone with Trini.

Kimberly leads Trini over towards a nearby pile of boulders and directs her to sit down. She squats down, taking a closer look at Trini’s mangled hand. “What happened?”

“Nuthin’” Trini manages to respond, unable to bring herself to look Kimberly in the eyes. She knows that once she does… it’s all over. Trini won’t be able to keep up her facade.

Kimberly, though, isn’t buying it. She reaches out and ever so carefully lifts Trini’s chin with her fingertips.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Trini swallows thickly and with what little courage her has left, opens her eyes.

And that’s all it takes. Trini feels the cracks start to spread across her walls. She can’t resist those rich chocolate orbs staring back at her.

“That’s better.” Kimberly smiles. “Where were you after school? I swung by at your locker after English but you never showed.”

“I bounced early.”

“Rough day?” Kimberly tucks a loose strand of hair behind Trini’s ear.

“You could say that.” Trini exhales.

“Well let’s change that, shall we?”

Kimberly reaches in and plants a tender kiss on Trini’s cheek.  

And at that very moment, Trini realizes just how utterly fucked she really is. There’s no denying it nor trying to hide from the truth any longer…

Trini is head over heels in love with Kimberly Hart.