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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

Pavement

Part 2

Part one here

It was too hot. Whatever I was lying on had me sweating. I go to sit up, only to feel strong arms wrap around me, holding me close, a nose nuzzling into my hair.

It was then I remembered the night before, Halley inviting the band to stay the night with us. I lift my head to see two green eyes staring down at me. Harry smiles softly, the dark bags beneath his eyes making his eyes glow even more.

"Hi." He whispers, swallowing hard.

"Hi." I go to sit up again but he pulls me back down.

"Just stay...a minute longer please." I looked over to see everyone else still asleep and lay my head back down his heart beat drumming against my ear. I feel his fingers go to my hair, threading through it gently. "You know, you never told me what your favorite song was last night."

"The first one." I said immediately. "It was beautiful." I felt him chuckle, his chest rumbling.

"I like that one too." We laid like that in silence for a while longer, it felt nice to be held so firmly, our hearts pressed together. "So..." he finally said. "What do you normally do in the mornings?" I sighed.

"I get up and usually go roller blaring. Then I come home."

"Hmm. Never done that before....do you want to go?"

"What about everybody else?" I felt him shrug.

"Let em sleep. I wanna hang out with you." I sat up, climbing off him gently and stepping over Mitch and Sarah. He looked cute in the morning light, hair tousled, groggy.

"Okay," I said. "But I won't roller blade this time." I grabbed my Walkman. "I always have tunes with me.

I gave him one earbud as we left the apartment, walking side by side. This time Oasis 'Wonderwall' was playing. He took my hand, threading our fingers together as we walked.

"So, you never told me about your family." He said.

"Not much to tell," I kicked a pebble with my shoe. "Never knew my dad. My mom was my best friend."

"So you're close to your mum? Where's she?" I bit my lip, keeping my head down.

"She died...she had cancer. Passed away my first year of college."

"Oh," he said softly. "God, I'm sorry." I smiled at him sadly.

"It's okay...I miss her a lot, but music makes me feel connected to her."

"Music means a lot to you yeah?" I nodded.

"Music's the one thing that we shared the most. You can tell a person a lot with just one song you know?"

"Definetly." We continued walking, humming along to the music in the Walkman. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He said.

"You didn't. I'm glad you asked. I could talk about my mom all day."

"Me too. My mum is the greatest person I know." I grinned at him. The way he spoke about his mom was so sweet. Like she hung the moon in the sky.

"Where are you guys headed next? Got any more gigs?"

"Planning on showing up?" He teased. I laughed, shrugging my shoulders.

"Maybe...I'm definitely a fan."

"Glad to hear it....actually we're going to Malibu. Mitch has some friends there. Gonna start recording."

"That's great!"

"Yeah...maybe...maybe you could come out? It's not too far. We could go to the beach or something."

"Or something." He laughed, a light blush on his cheeks. "I think I'd like that."

We turned and headed back towards the apartment, stopping so I could flip the tape and start the other side.

"I was thinking too...maybe I'll make you a tape? Some of the music I like. If you wanted?" He looked so shy, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Totally. I'll make you one too." He surprised me, reaching out to wrap and arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side.

"I'm glad I met you." He said.

"Me too."

"Hey guys!" We looked up. Everyone was standing outside, Halley was smoking, Adam had an arm wrapped around her waist. "Where'd ya go?"

"For a walk." I said as we joined the group. I pulled out my headphone. Harry handed his to me. I wrapped them around my Walkman and shoved it into my pocket.

"Hey man, we gotta get going. I told Ben we'd be there by noon. We can grab breakfast on the way." Harry nodded, turning to me.

"Is it too much to ask for your number?" He asked me.

"I don't have a pen." I watched as he dug in his pocket, he pulled out a sharpie, handing it to me. I giggled.

"Of course." I took his hand, scribbling my number onto his palm.

"I'll call you later? Would that be alright?" I nodded. He opened his arms, letting me walk into his embrace. He held me tightly, rubbing my back. He placed a soft kiss to my hair before pulling away walking backwards towards the van, a large smile on his face. "See you soon?"

"See you soon."

"Now that was a girls night out." Halley gushed as we went back into the apartment. I grinned, shaking my head.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun." She was smirking at me. "What?"

"I saw you and Harry got along pretty well." I rolled my eyes, going to the fridge.

"He's nice.....we talked about a lot of stuff."

"And you gave him your number."

"And I gave him my number. So what?"

"When was the last time you went out?" She asked, coming to stand beside me. I paused, setting the orange juice I had gotten out down. "Before your mom died?" I looked up at her, she wasn't being cruel. Her words were soft, gentle.

"Yeah." I answered quietly. She put her arm around me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I would never tell you to rush into something....but maybe...give him a chance? He seems like a really good guy." I smiled, nudging her with the side of my head before picking up the orange juice again.

"So I saw you and Adam got pretty cozy." She giggled.

"Girl don't get me started."

I had a wedding in Malibu. Nobody I knew personally, but a photography gig. I woke up early the morning after I'd given Harry my number, brushed my teeth, got dressed, grabbed a bagel and headed out the door. The bride had wanted pre wedding photos of her getting ready. I always loved those, they were fun. Before and after pictures to keep as memories forever.

"I'm so nervous."

"Don't be. You look gorgeous."

I listened here and there to the conversations, zoning out slightly as my mind flitted back to Harry.

I hadn't let myself like anyone since my mom died. It was hard to even think about dating when she was sick, my days filled with medications and prayers. Hoping against hope that she would get better. I did have a boyfriend at that time. But he couldn't handle the depression that washed over me after she was gone. He left me a week after the funeral and I'd been alone since. Five years.

But there was something about the singer I'd met. He seemed so kind and patient. It made me wary, as much as I wanted him to call me I didn't. I wasn't sure I was ready to try and find love again. I didn't want to put my faith in another person for them to walk away from me again.

The reception was gorgeous. On the beach, white tables and chairs, sunflowers and Rose's. I took pictures of everything. The bride and room cutting the cake, the garter, all of it. I couldn't help but laugh at the best man's toast and tear up at the maid of honor's tribute to the bride. It was beautiful.

I leaned against a table, looking back through photos I had taken as a slow dance had people dancing.

"Summer? No way." My heart dropped to my stomach at the sound of a familiar British accent. I turned to see Harry. He wore a black and white floral suit, his hair slicked back, a huge grin on his face.

"Hey," I said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Matt and Emma are friends of Mitch. They invited him to the wedding and we thought we'd crash it." He pulled me into a gentle hug. "What are you doing here?" He asked. I held up my camera.

"Photography. It's my calling."

"I thought you were a music gal?"

"I am," I fondled my camera, looking away from him, his eyes were so intense, his attention fully on me. "But I like photography room I freelance and do wedding shoots when I can." He nodded.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure." He took my hand, his rings were cold but his skin warm as he pulled me towards the refreshments. He poured me some punch.

"I'm assuming you don't drink when you're working?" I chuckled.

"Not on the job." I took a sip, looking out towards the bride and groom. "This is a beautiful wedding isn't it?"

"Yeah...you ever think about settling down one day?" I shook my head.

"Nah. I don't think anyone could put up with me forever."

"You never know." I hummed taking another sip of my drink. The song changed, Chord Overstreet's 'Hold On' beginning. "I love this song." Harry said softly.

"Me too."

"Do you want to dance?" He asked. I shook my head.

"I don't dance." He rolled his eyes, grabbing my hand again.

"Come on. I won't let you fall." I let him lead me out towards the others. He set my cup on a table, taking my hand in his once more and pulling me to him. I put one hand on his shoulder and he put his free hand on my waist. Our bodies pressed together as he began to rock slowly back and forth with me.

"If I step on your toes it's on you." He laughed again. I liked it, I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face.

"I'm willing to take one for the team love." He leaned down, pressing his cheek to mine. "I'm glad I ran into you. Was gonna call you tonight before we came out. But I guess this is fate." I scoffed slightly.

"I don't believe in fate." I said.

"Maybe I can change your mind." He let go of my hand, spinning me out and twirling me back to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face into his shoulder. He smelled like apples and cinnamon.

"You smell nice." I said before I could stop myself. His thumbrubbed slow circles on my back.

"Thank you," he pulled back, our noses brushing a he looked down at me. My heart thudding in my chest as he looked down at my lips. "I want to kiss you." He said softly.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I like you." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," I blushed. "O...okay." i was nervous. But the way he was looking at me, his eyes filled with desire and a softness no one had ever looked at me like that before. He brushed his nose against mine, hesitating for a moment.

"Is this alright?" He asked again. I nodded. Fuck it. I really liked him.

"Yes." He pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and pillowy, molding with mine perfectly. He didn't force or probe, keeping his mouth closed as he peppered kisses along the side of my mouth and over my lips. I gripped his shirt, letting myself fall into what I was feeling, the way my stomach tightened and my legs felt like jello. A kiss that good only came once in a lifetime.

He looked at me again when he pulled away, the song had ended, a faster one started, yet we moved slowly, as though we were the only two people there.

"Hey!" I jumped at the harsh voice, turning to see the bride's mother looking at me annoyed. "We aren't paying you to dance sweetie. You're here for pictures." I felt my face heat up as Harry let me go.

"It's my fault ma'am. I asked her to dance." I looked back at him. He leaned down, kissing me again. "I'll let you get back to work....And I'll call you tomorrow." I nodded, picking up my camera and moving to the other side of the party, the feel of his lips still tattooed on my own.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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mirclealignr · 4 years

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intimidating... i think you’re an 8 or 7 jsdhjsdhsh

could i maybe get a playlist for sad songs? - 🦖

WHAT? kdjdndnd im so sorry fjdjfnf

Sad songs 😏 yes bby i gotchu fjfjfnnf (i’m just gonna link a playlist i already made for this bc i’m sad and i had you covered months ago)

July - Noah Cryus

Drivers License - Olivia Rodrigo

Broken Strings - James Morrison

Two Ghosts - Harry Styles

Hold On - Chord Overstreet

I Fall Apart - Post Malone

Two People - Sam Fender

Before We Go - Lewis Capaldi

Normal - Katie Pruitt

Top to Toe - Fenne Lily

Thoughts - Sasha Sloan

Another Love - Tom Odell

full playlist here!

#lena asks #🦖 anon

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lettersofwrittencollective · 5 years

Text

Hold On

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Thomas x Reader

Word Count: 6307

Warnings: None

Prompt: None

A/N: I was listening to the song, Hold On by Chord Overstreet and came up wit this... As always please feel free to give me your thoughts and opinions.

Masterlist || DOB Masterlist

You were running to the truck that Jorge had driven into a crowd of cranks. Brenda was shooting at some, trying to keep them from getting too close to the four of you. Frypan, Thomas and Newt had made it onto the truck, they’re longer legs able to get them there faster. They were calling you name, motioning for you to jump.

You jumped onto the truck and Jorge, thinking everyone was safe or trying to shake the Cranks, pressed on the gas. You were thrown off balance and would have fallen off hand it not been for Thomas and Newt grabbing onto each arm. Thomas tried to reach your jacket to tug you back in. Unfortunately, just as he was about to reach your jacket, Newt lost his grip on your arm. “Tommy!!” you screamed as you suddenly found yourself in a very precarious situation.

The arm that Newt had held was now behind you and you were trying to focus on holding onto Thomas with your other arm. There was a tug on your free arm and you turned to a crank had managed to latch onto you for just a moment before other cranks knocked him down. Immediately, you pulled the free hand as close to your body as you could manage when Thomas, in a burst of adrenaline, was able to pull you back into the truck.

When Thomas had pulled you into the truck, you collided with his chest and your arms were quick to wrap around his torso. He had tried to step back, to check you over and make sure you were ok but you had only tightened your grip on him and burrowed your face into his chest. Seeing how freaked out you were, Thomas had merely held you tighter and kissed your head before moving his hands to rub soothing circles across your back.

Once you had calmed down, he checked the arm that the crank had grabbed. Seeing nothing but bruising, the both of you let out a sigh of relief and you couldn’t help feeling foolish for having been so terrified for what ended up being no reason.

When you’d apologized to everyone- Newt, Frypan, Brenda and Jorge had reassured you that you were fine. Thomas had waited till they had all given you their reassurances before cupping your face in his hand and tilting your head up so he could kiss your forehead before he told you that you were allowed to freak out every once in a while, especially when cranks were involved.

Thomas had then spent the next few hours holding you in some way. Whether he had you pulled up against him in Jorge’s truck or holding your hand while you walked the outskirts of the Lost City. When you were in his arms, he would press kisses to your temple or your hair every few minutes, as you walked through the outskirts, he would tug you so that you were practically on his back, his grip tight on your hand.

You had been the one to notice the group of masked men following you, having pointed them out to Thomas as Newt came up, you were all taken aback by the sound of the machine gun firing into the crowd.

When the masked team had thrown both of you in the back of a van, Thomas had adjusted his body so that he was in front of you. It was both frustrating and adorable. You swore that he forgot that you’d been in the Glade with a bunch of boys for a while before he’d come up. You had gone toe to toe with all of them and were able to take care of yourself for the most part. So, when you had learned that Gally was in fact still alive, you found that you were incredibly grateful. The guy had been a right ass in the end but he was still your friend.

When the situation had calmed down, Thomas was the first one to notice that you were bleeding. Once he confirmed that it was your lower leg and not near your femoral, he’d picked you up so quickly it made you dizzy. He’d demanded that Gally and his new friends get you to a medic.

As the medic stitched you up, Thomas had had to go meet Lawrence. At first he argued against it but was convinced easily enough when you pointed out “Tommy, Lawrence may be our only way to get into WCKD.”

That had been just a few hours ago. Now, though, you were outside the walls of the Last City, sitting on the roof of Lawrence's house waiting for Thomas, Newt and Gally to come back. The three boys were trying to find a way to get into WCKD and based on the way Gally spoke of the place, you had a suspicion you knew exactly how he planned on getting into the WCKD building.

Not much later, Brenda took a seat next to you and the two of you sit in silence, watching the world around you. It’s Brenda that breaks the silence, “What do you think they’ll find?”

You wish she hadn’t asked that, you want to be naive to what the solutions likely to e but you’d been put in the Glade the month after Gally, when they were still sending boys and girls. He’d taken you under his wing so to speak and to pretend that you didn’t know was foolish. In fact, as soon as Brenda had asked, the suspicion itself suddenly became an indisputable fact in your mind.

“Gallys going to want to use Teresa to get us into WCKD.”

At the silence that followed, you turned to look at Brenda. The sight in front of you was almost comical. Her face had paled, her eyes had a deer in the headlights quality with how large they had gotten and her jaw had dropped.

You merely turned back to look at the wall before your eyes fell to the people traveling the alleyways below. Inside the walls were the rich, the ones that could afford the cure torn from innocent children and out here was a mix of people who wanted to save those very children and who would use them if given the chance.

“Wait! You’re being serious?!” she asked you after the initial shock wore off.

“Deadly. Especially because I’m pretty sure that Newt or Frypan would have told him of her betrayal. Teresa was always soft on Tommy. If they haven’t been able to get in before but Gally’s sure that he get them in now, he’s going to use Tommy to lure her out. She’ll be our ticket to Minho.”

“And you’re sure that everyone’s gonna be on board with this?”

You were confused and were about to ask what it was that she meant when Jorge came through the doors and called for the two of you. Getting up, you and Brenda followed Jorge down the stairs into a room that seems to be covered in papers and plans.

Frypans sitting in a chair to the side, Thomas is pacing near the wall and Gally and Newt are around a table. Your legs not too happy with you right now, so you lean against the wall, keeping most of your weight on your good leg while Brenda joins Newt and Gally at the table.

The atmosphere in the room is tense and suddenly Thomas is turning towards your group as he says “No. There’s gotta be another way.”

You watch as Gally drops the plans on the table in front of him, without actually turning to Thomas he asks “Like what? You’ve seen the building, she is our only way in.”

“You really think she’s gonna help us?’ Thomas challenged.

You have to work to hide the chuckle that wants to bubble up. Of course you were right about Gally wanting to use Teresa. “I doubt he’s planning to ask for her help Tommy,” you say from your place against the wall. Lifting the leg that had had a bullet in it, you stretch out the foot in front of you.

Thomas sees this and makes his way towards you when Brenda asked for clarity, pulling Thomas’ attention back to the matter at hand. “Am I missing something here? This is the same girl who betrayed us correct? Same dick?”

“I like her.” Gally says of the girl that had helped saved your life earlier, as he crosses his arm and looks at Thomas.

‘What’s going on?” she asks of Thomas and it’s in that moment that you realize what she had meant earlier.

Crossing your arms in front of you, you bring your left hand up to your lips as you try to make sense of the why. Teresa had destroyed everything when she had given you up to wicked. In your opinion there was no redemption for the girl.

The rooms silent as you watch them. Newt catches your eye and raises an eyebrow, silently asking if you’re okay. You don’t respond because you’re not exactly sure. That seems to set Newt off and he practically growls out across the table “What are you afraid your little girlfriends gonna get hurt?”

Thomas’ silence tells you what you need to know and you let out a cold scoff as you place your weight on both knees and bring your left hand down, “Of course it is. This has never been about rescuing Minho has it?”

Everyone turns to look at you and you continue to stare at Thomas who takes a step towards you, confusion on his face “Y/N- what are you talking about?”

Your eyes harden and you’re about to respond when Newt’s caught everyone off guard. ‘Teresa. She’s the only reason that Minho's even missing in the first place,” he’s stalking Thomas, forcing the brunette to step backwards until he’s practically pinned against a wall “now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and you don’t want to. What? Because of her?! Because deep down inside, you still care about her don’t you?”

Thomas’ eyes flick to you but you’d already schooled your features. All he sees is a cold, hard mask.

As Newt pulls Thomas’ attention back him, “Don’t look at her!” he calls, and you tighten the grip of your arms across your chest. This time, you’re trying to hold yourself together. The night that Thomas had run into the maze, after Minho and Alby, you had sat with Newt all night. The two of you deciding to follow this shuck if he made it back alive and he had. Thomas had always taken care of both you and Teresa and you hadn’t thought anything about it at first but as you guys planned the train car heist, the two of you had gotten closer and you had found that you were falling for the idiot.

You had known it the night that the two of you had laid on the shores of the beach just tracing the stars in the sky.

It had been a particularly brutal day as far as training and planning. You had argued with Tommy, Newt and Frypan about the best way to figure out which car Minho would be in. You had offered to go to the main station and keep an eye while they loaded the kids to try and make sure you got Minho’s car but none of the boys would hear about it. According to them, it was much too risky. You’d pointed out that the whole plan was risky and that you had no problems risking everything if it meant getting one of your brothers back.

Tommy had practically lost his mind and the two of you had argued back and forth. When he yelled at you about making reckless decisions the two of you had gone back and forth. Most of the group gave you a wide berth the rest of the day.

When everyone else had gone to bed, you had stayed out on the boat just watching the glistening stars overhead. Thomas had come to find you and after you both apologized to each other, he stayed with you.

“You know Y/N, I think that one’s Orion,” he said after a few minutes and traced the star for you.

“Now where’d you learn that?”

He’d simply shrugged as he sat next to you, “When you said you enjoyed them, I asked Jorge to show me. I know Newt and Frypan never learned them.. Figured you would like someone to talk to about ‘em.”

The two of you had stayed there the rest of the night and had taken turns pointing out stars and constellations that you knew.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear Newt screaming at Thomas. “DON’T LIE TO ME!” he pushes the brunette against the wall itself, “DON’T. LIE. TO. ME!” Less than a second later, you watch as Newts demeanor change. He apologizes to everyone twice before leaving the room.

Everyone watches him leave for a moment, you included. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t realize that Thomas has made his way towards you until he’s calling your name Turning to him, you see the confusion on his face, he looks like he wants to reassure you but he’s not sure how and you want to tell him things are okay but instead you motion your head towards the doors Newt just exited, your voice is cold “You should go check on him Thomas.”

He flinches at the full use of his name. Y/N and Newt are the only ones that call him Tommy. In fact, he’s not sure when the last time you used his full name outside of the Glade was. He reaches his hand out towards her and feels his heart drop when she steps back.

“Y/N…” he begins but is quickly cut off.

“Go check on him Thomas and get over whatever hang up you have about using Teresa or I’ll kill you myself.” there’s no emotion in her voice, it’s flat and cold and as he looks at her, he can see the glassiness in her eyes. He tries calling her name again, much more softly this time and he watches her eyes flick behind him.

“Gally.” she calls as she walks past him and he turns to watch her. As she almost reaches him, she loses her footing, her bad leg unable to support her weight. He moves to help her when he sees Gally’s already got his arm around her waist but as soon as he touches her shoulder she shakes him off.

“You need to go check on Newt, Thomas.” she says without turning to him. A pained breath leaves her lips and she leans her head on Gallys bicep before sayin, “I need to go get this damned gauze changed and off my feet for a little. Mind helping a girl out, Gal?”

Thomas watches as Gallys eyes go from Y/N to him and back before the boy reluctantly nods his head and helps Y/N limp out of the room. Turning his head, he sees the rest of the group just looking at him, disappointment evident in their gazes. He clears his throat and walks out to check on Newt.

Finding his friend on the roof of Lawrences, house, he walks up slowly before stopping behind him. Newt turns to look at him, “Sorry about that, back there… I guess I can’t hide this anymore.” Thomas watches the black veins that indicated that his friend has been infected by the Flare.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as he sank down by his friend.

“Didn’t think it would make any difference.” Newt looked at his arm and then out at the outskirts of the city, “All I know is that WCKD must have put me in that maze for a reason. And maybe it was literally just so they could tell the difference between immunes like you and people like me.”

“You know, we can still fix this Newt.”

Newt disagreed with him however. The goal was to get Minho out of WCKD, no matter what the cost.

The two friends sit in silence for a few minutes. Thomas is thinking back to the cold look on your face and the shuttered eyes he had never seen before. Clearing his throat, he asks his friend “Newt… Do you think that Y/N is -”

His friend laughs and pats him, hard, on the shoulder as he cuts him off, “Whatever the two of you are- you’re going to have to grovel for her forgiveness. I can’t remember the last time she called you Thomas outside of the Glade.”

“What do you mean ‘whatever we are’?” Thomas asked the other boy, the wording confusing him. When Newt merely gave him an expectant look, he continued, “Newt, she’s my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“So, she’s just your friend?”

Thomas felt his cheeks flush and shook his head, “She’s so much more than that...”

“Does she know that?”

Thomas nods his head, “Of course she does! How could she not?! Whenever something happens, she’s the first one that I go to. Whenever I need help with a decision, she’s the one that I talk it through with.”

“Tommy, have you told her?”

At that, Thomas has to think about it for a minute and realizes that he doesn’t actually every remember telling Y/N what he thought of her. The two of them did so many things together, that he just assumed you knew what you meant to him.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been silent, but Newt squeezed his shoulder, “You two are a strange pair. You’ve been dancing around each other for months now. We’ve all seen the possibility of more than a friendship for a while now but the first time I’ve seen you show something physically romantic towards her was after the cranks almost took her the other day. Since then, you’ve been tripping over yourself to keep an eye on her. She doesn’t usually do well with that ya know?”

“Well why would that change?”

“Well, as we’ve already pointed out, she called you Thomas. Also- you’re out here with me still. If you were so sure of where you stood with her, you would have already gone in to check on her.” With that, Newt stood up from the ledge of the building and went inside.

Thomas sat on the edge of the building for a few more minutes before he realized that he needed to talk to you. Especially after the Teresa comment that Newt had made earlier, he needed to make sure that you knew that you were the best thing that had happened to him.

Getting up, he made his way inside. It took him having to find Gally to figure out you had been set up in a spare room and that was where you had last been seen. Gally refused to tell him where the room was, saying that he needed to leave you alone which only irritated Thomas who told the blonde to mind his own business.

He’d stormed out of the room and was able to get directions to your room from one of the other girls in the area. When he finally found your door, he knocked a couple times. When there was no response, he called your name. You sounded weak when you responded and it immediately worried him.

While he waited for you to open the door, there was a loud crashing sound and a thud. He immediately tried to open the door in front of him only to find that it was locked. Calling your name frantically, he pushed against the door. It wouldn’t budge and so he started to throw his weight against it.

Someone tried to grab his arm but he shrugged them off. “Thomas! What are you doing?!” Newt asked as he pulled the boy backwards.

Thomas continued to throw his weight against the door, as he answered Newt. “Y/N... There was a crash and a thud. I need to make sure she’s ok.” Suddenly the door broke open.

Rushing into the room, his eyes found you on the floor on the other side of the room. He ran to you and pulled you into his arm. Putting a hand to your chest, he found a very faint heartbeat.

“Y/N?!” he called, his voice panicky. “Newt go get someone!”

He watched Newt run out of the door and turned back to the girl in his arms. “Y/N…” he whispered as he tried to find your pulse. It was getting weaker and he wasn’t sure how that was possible “Y/N hold on, Newt’s getting help.”

He pulled you into his lap and held you tight. “Y/N - I need you... Please don’t leave me...” he whispered into her hair as he kissed her temple.

A pained whimper escaped her lips and he looked down to find her looking at him. There was a small smile on her lips and her breathing was shallow. “I’m so tired Tommy,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

“No, no, no, Y/N, open your eyes!!” When he saw her eyes flutter open and then close, “Y/N… PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!!” he screamed as he picked her up and cradled her to his chest before running out of the room. His only thought to get the girl in his arms to help. What felt like a lifetime later, he ran into Newt and a group of men and and a woman. The woman stepped forward and asked what had happened; Thomas shook his head, “I... I... I don’t know. I heard a crash and she was on the floor when I finally got in… She won’t open her eyes!”

The girl was saying something to the other two that had come in with her. She was speaking so fast that he wasn’t able to understand what was said. She looked at Thomas, “I need you to let her go.”

Suddenly, there were hands trying to pull you from him and Thomas pulled you tighter against him as he moved backwards.

“Thomas they’re trying to help...” he heard Newts voice, soft and reassuring in the haze of the rest of the room.

Looking at the people around him, he saw that someone had brought a gurney. He turned to look at Newt who nodded his head reassuringly, then he looked at the woman who had taken your vitals “Please… save her…” he begged, his voice broken.

The woman didn’t say a word, merely offered him a sad smile. He kissed Y/N’s forehead, and whispered “come back to me please...”

The med-jack then helped the men move Y/N from his arms to the gurney before they quickly made their way out of the room and down the hallway.

Following not too far behind them, Thomas watched as they took her into an enclosed room. Trying to follow, he was stopped by Gally.

“Greenie-“The blonde started to say, but was interrupted by Thomas shoving him backwards. Gally stood his ground and pushed back, “Greenie!”

“Get out of the way Gally.”

“You need to wait a minute and let them try to save her!”

Thomas’ stopped and looked at Gally. “What do you know?”

“Nothing concrete, I just have a suspicion.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

At that, Thomas saw red and pushed Gally against the door behind him. Grabbing the boy’s shirt in his fists, he pulled him close. When he spoke, his voice was low, harsh and deadly, “What the hell is happening to her?!”

Gally didn’t seem fazed as he grabbed Thomas’ wrists and threw them off of him. Thomas watched a Gally’s eyes narrowed and he stood straighter. “Look Greenie, I’ve known Y/N a hell of a lot longer than you have!” he shoved against Thomas and Thomas was forced to take a step back. “I was the one that taught her how to build. When our friends were banished, or died because of some shuck headed idiot, she would sit with me, Newt and Minho to mourn them. That girl is our little sister.”

Gally continued to press Thomas, making him step even further backwards “So you’re not the only one that’s worried about her! I’m worried! Newts worried! Frypans worried. Guaranteed that Brenda and Jorge will be worried.” He then took his finger and stabbed Thomas in the chest with it, his voice dropping and becoming menacing, “What makes your shuck face so special?”

Thomas stopped letting Gally push him backwards and shoved the boy again, “Because I love her! You stupid shank! Now get out of my way or I swear, I’ll kill you.”

As he walked towards the door, he heard a commotion behind him. Turning, he saw that Frypan, Jorge and Brenda had joined them in the room. He turned away from them and saw one of the men that had helped the woman move you. He was in a different outfit, a grey shirt and pants with a white coat on top. It took Thomas a moment before he recognized the ensemble as that of a doctor. He was talking to Gally and a moment later, Gally was sprinting out of the room.

“Hey! What’s going on?” He asked the man as he walked towards him.

The man looked at Thomas but didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at the group gathered in the room with Thomas. “You’re all here for the girl?” At their nods, he sighed, “She an immune?”

Thomas felt his blood freeze at those words. Was it possible that WCKD had really mixed them up in a group like that? Thinking about Newt and Winston, he knew it was possible but he didn’t want to believe that Y/N wasn’t immune.

“She was in the maze with us.” Frypan answered. “But Winston wasn’t immune... The cranks got him…”

“Then I guess we can only wait and see.”

“What happened?” Thomas asked again, he felt like a broken record but he had to know what was going on with you.

“I’m waiting for Gally to come back with some bullets to be sure but, for now, I suggest you all take a seat, there’s no a whole lot we can do right now.” With that, he walked back into the room.

Thomas wanted to follow after the man, but if he was honest with himself, he was afraid of what he’d find. So, he settled for pacing in front of the doors while the others sank down onto the floor or into chairs.

Gally came into the room, a bag in his hand that looked like it weighed a ton. He didn’t pay any mind or attention to the group of boys around him and instead went straight to the door that Y/N was behind.

The world felt muted. He could hear the cars outside and the chattering slums but it was as if they were muffled by something.

When Gally came back out, the sun was out again, he looked pissed and his knuckles were red. Thomas made his way towards the irate blonde, he didn’t even have to ask before Gally spoke up, and “The bastards actually weaponized the flare.”

“Wait, what? How?”

“Hollowed tips to the bullets.” the blonde responded as he sank down, cracking his knuckles in front of him.

“Wait so is she gonna crank out?” Brenda asked and Thomas watched as Gally shook his head.

“I don’t think so. Usually, cranks have the black veins. She doesn’t have that. She’s on fire though and in pain. She keeps hallucinating that she’s in the maze...” He turns to look at Thomas “She keeps calling for you.”

Thomas swallows, he’s terrified that Gally is wrong and that she’s going to crank out, but he nods his head and asks if he can see her. Gally nods and motions for Thomas to go through the door.

When he opened the door, he saw you laying in a bed that had been stuck in the corner of the room. He stood there, frozen for a moment.

The sound of the gunshot that ended Winston's life made everyone freeze in place. He watched Teresa recover the fastest then Frypan, Minho and Newt. But Y/N stayed where she was. He walked up behind her and called her name but she made no acknowledgement that she heard him. As he reached her, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Y/N…” he said softly, “We need to keep moving.”

She stood still for a moment before turning to him, “Tommy - I don’t want to end up like those creatures either. Newts right, if Winston can get infected we should assume -”

“Y/n that’s not-”

“No Tommy, listen to me. It shouldn’t be possible based on that video but Winston just died Tommy. I need you to promise me, if they infect me and I can’t pull the trigger, I need you to do it.”

A whimper pulled him from his memory and he rushed over to the girl. When he neared her, he placed a hand to her chest, feeling for her heartbeat. It was there, slow but steady and he reached down to take her hand.

“Y/N- don’t let this take you. Please.. Please hold on. I promise I’ll make this right. I’m going to find a way to save you.”

Thomas sat in silence in that blasted room. He’d heard Gally arguing with Newt and Frypan but hadn’t bothered to try to figure out what it was. He merely sat there and held her hand. For the most part they left him in the room alone but they would come into the room to check on the girl.

Other people, ones he figured were medics would also come in to check her vitas. She was burning up and there was an occasional whimper that would leave her but she didn’t wake up. Thomas just held her hand. He would bring it to his lips occasionally, kissing her hand. “Please don’t leave me…” he would whisper every now and then. “Come back… I still need you.”

When the sun set again, Newt came knocking on the door. “We’ve gotta go.”

Thomas looked at you, “What if she cranks out Newt?” he whispered. He didn’t want to go but he also knew that he needed to. Getting Teresa meant not only getting to Minho but also getting a cure for you.

Newt merely walked into the room and placed a hand on his friends shoulder. “She won’t,” he said with such conviction that Thomas almost believed him.

Rubbing his eyes, Thomas gut up from the chair he had been in all day. He went and kissed your forehead. “Come back to me… I’m not strong enough to be without you.”

Getting up, he followed Newt out of the Lawrence’s place and back into the lost city. He had to focus on what Newt and Gally were saying. His mind kept wandering back to Y/N, she was in that bed, burning up and Teresa was working for the people that had caused it.

Leaving the train tunnels, the boys went through the old, empty platform that Gally led them through. He then walked through the small courtyard and joined the throngs of people moving throughout the city. He remembered Gally saying that Teresa would take the route that was the straightest to WCKD’s compound.

He pulled his hoodie over his head and tried to be as casual as possible. He wasn’t sure how far he was going to have to go but thankfully, he didn’t have to even cross the street before he saw her. They waited for the light on opposite ends of the intersection and he watched as she turned towards something. He began to worry that he was going to have to cross the street when suddenly Teresa’s eyes connected with his.

Watching the flash of recognition on her face, he turned away. Knowing that the girl would follow. He went back through the courtyard he had come out of and was thinking about Y/N. If Teresa hadn’t betrayed them she wouldn’t be in that bed right now fighting for her life. He picked up his pace, trying to get this over with so that he could go check on the girl.

“Thomas?” he heard Teresa call. A voice that had once soothed him now felt like acid across his skin. Looking over his shoulder, he made the turn into the station Gally had pushed him out of, making sure that she followed.

Once in the station, he moved into the shadows and watched Teresa search for him. His instinct was to yell at her, to find a way to hurt her the way she had hurt Y/N but he couldn’t frighten her off. They needed her for Minho. They needed her for Y/N.

So, stepping out of the shadows he pulled of his hood. She turned to him and said his name, as if it were a prayer falling from her lips.

“Hey Teresa.”

“You shouldn’t be here. If Jansen finds out you’re here..” she begins to say but he cuts her off.

“I’m not staying.” He walked towards her, “It’s just - uh.. I had to see you.” He stops in front of her and it takes everything in him not to reach out and choke the life out of her. Instead, he focuses on Y/N and when he speaks again, his voice is regretful, “I had to ask you something…”

Teresa says nothing, just looking at him. The look on her face is trusting, almost relieved to see him and he can’t help but hate her in that moment. “Do you regret it? What you did to us?”

Teresa, somehow, seems surprised by the question and says “Sometimes. But I did what I thought was right. I’d do it again.”

“Good.” He watches confusion flicker across her face as Gally comes up and throws a sack over her head. They lead Teresa through the tunnels and out of the Last City. Finally, they get back to Lawrence’s compound.

One of the doctors had told you that the boys were back. They set Teresa in one of the rooms downstairs. You made your way and heard Gally talking as you got closer, “Here’s how this is gonna go. We’re gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna tell us exactly what you know.”

As you walked into the room, you saw Gally approaching Teresa as she appealed to Thomas. Gally slammed a chair down in front of Teresa. “Don’t look at him. Why you lookin at him?”

“She’s expecting him to save her.” you answer for the girl. Six heads whip in your direction and both Newt and Thomas rush towards you, making sure you’re ok. “I’m fine boys. Fevers broken and there’s no crank in sight,” you say as you push them away.

You turn your gaze upon Teresa, “We know you’ve got Minho in the building. So, you’re going to tell us where or so help me, I will find out if you’re immune or just lucky.”

She looks at you and you’re not sure if you look scary or if she feels bad about what she’s done but she turns back to Gally and gives him the information that he needs. As they’re talking, you feel a hand on your bicep.

Turning, you’re not surprised to see Thomas. You use your head to motion that the two of you should walk away from the group. You’re in a hallway and he’s looking at you like he’s afraid to touch you. Reaching out, you cup his face and tilt his head so you can look into his eyes, you can see the worry and the relief. “I’m fine Tommy,” you whisper to him reassuringly.

Moving his hand up, he cradles your smaller hand in his larger one. “You called me Tommy.” he says, his voice soft and filled with awe.

You chuckle softly. “Yes well, I heard you earlier. It’s kind of hard to stay mad at someone when they’re begging you to stay alive. Though you do need to find a way to make all of this right.”

Before you’ve realized it, he’s moved his free hand to the other side of your face and is pressing his lips against yours. It takes you by surprise for a moment and you can feel him pulling away from you. He looks like he’s unsure of himself suddenly and you realize that you hadn’t responded to his kiss.

Biting your lower lip, you bunch his shirt in your fists and pull him towards you. He eagerly meets you and kisses you passionately. You return the kiss with just as much vigor and the two of you only break apart when you feel like your lungs are going to explode. Leaning your forehead on his shoulder, you can’t help the chuckle that leaves your lips.

“What?”

“Just never thought you’d actually kiss me.”

He steps back from you and cups your face again. Looking into your eyes he says, “Y/N you are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know where we would be. I swear to love you all my life.”

You smile at him and turn your head to kiss the inside of his palm before turning back to look at him, “Let’s go get Minho and go home.”

Masterlist || DOB Masterlist

Tag list: @stiles-o-dylan24 @nicole-lynne @lucifersnipnips

#Reader insert #thomas x reader #thomas tmr #the maze runner #thomas imagines #the maze runner imagines #tmr #my writing

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offtoljubljana · 5 years

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24. Mijn eerste Sloveense post...

26/02/2020

... en het is VGZ die me een fijn buitenlands verblijf wenst. Lief, maar internationale post daar echt voor nodig?

Oh en kijk, mijn tumblr activity voor dit blog lijkt op een hoedje:

De muziek playlist is terug. Nu is het tijd voor Glee cast bops. Dit zijn goede nummers van glee cast leden die eigen muziek hebben uitgebracht. (Home Sweet Home van Damian McGinty, oftewel Rory in glee. Je merkt wel dat Damian een soort van zachte popmuziek stijl heeft.)

Verder komt het coronavirus dichterbij. Slovenië is omringd met besmette landen: Italië, Oostenrijk, Zwitserland, Kroatië. Ik heb geen idee hoe het in Hongarije is. Ik las dat Nederland ook omringd is door Duitsland en België.

Om eerlijk te zijn, maak ik me niet heel veel zorgen. Caroline en Kath zeiden ook al: het ergste wat kan gebeuren is dat we 14 dagen binnen moeten blijven. Niet ideaal, want na een lange tijd heb je er wel genoeg van, maar als iemand in huis het virus krijgt, komen we er wel doorheen. Die Belg met coronavirus heeft het ook zelf verwerkt, maar volgens Caroline zit hij nu juist in Italië, dus dat is kut. Maar oké, je kan er dus doorheen komen. Het zijn de ouderen, zieken en zwakken die de extra aandacht nodig hebben.

(Kevin McHale, oftewel Artie, heeft zo’n goede muziek. James Dean is zijn favoriete nummer. Zijn hele Boy EP is goed. Stream it on Spotify.)

Barbara, aan de andere kant, is een beetje panisch. Ze is ook al een beetje aan het hamsteren. Blijkbaar is ze niet de enige, want volgens Barbara was de Hoffner helemaal leeg. Kath, Caroline en ik hadden al besproken of we moeten gaan hamsteren, maar voorlopig is de paniek niet al te hoog.

De universiteit blijft ook voorzorgsmaatregelen sturen. Het verandert wel dingen, want gisteren moest iemand hoesten op de drukke bus en dan heb je wel een “oh shit” moment.

(Alweer Damian met Sixteen. Er zijn 79 nummers op deze playlist en 7 zijn van Damian.) (Ik heb net even alle nummers zitten tellen. Nu zit ik op My Ex van OVERSTREET, de band van Chord Overstreet, oftewel Sam. Alle 9 nummers van OVERSTREET staan op deze lijst, maar van Chord zelf is er maar 1.)

Het meeste wat wij tot nu toe gemerkt hebben is dat dingen worden geannuleerd. ESN had dus de Parliament Tour en een feest en karaoke geannuleerd. Barbara zou met haar studie een weekend naar Berlijn gaan, maar dat gaat ook niet meer door. Caroline hoopt dat de wijntrip naar Piran wel nog door gaat, maar dat is relatief dichtbij de Italiaanse grens.

(Darren Criss’s Jealousy heb ik zo lang niet meer gehoord. Darren Criss is Blaine. Helaas heeft hij tot op de dag vandaag niet al zijn nummers professioneel opgenomen. Darren, het is 2020. Waar blijven Stutter en I Still Think en Another Love Affair en nog meer?)

Een ander ongerelateerd ding dat geannuleerd is, is mijn college van vandaag. Nee, niet het ochtendcollege, maar ik zou eigenlijk The body and technology moeten volgen vanaf 16:00 tot 20:00, maar dat gaat vandaag niet door.

Ik had vanochtend dus wel mijn eerste les Media Criticism. Het is inmiddel 13:32, btw, en ik had les van 8:30. Officieel t/m 12:00, maar dit was een introductiecollege van 20 minuten en daarna gingen we een film kijken voor onze eerste opdracht. De film was de bekende Citizen Kane en het was niet slecht. Ik kon het gewoon niet geloven dat deze film uit 1941 is en dat de 19e eeuw toen nog enigszins recent was. Die Charles Foster Kane is geboren in 1866 of zo.

Nu weet ik tenminste waar deze meme vandaan komt:

We moeten het verhaal van Citizen Kane toepassen op de huidige situatie in ons land van herkomst, maar we hebben geen idee wat we nu precies moeten toepassen. Zoveel onderwerpen werden onder onze neus geduwd in iets minder dan 2 uur.

(Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. If I Say So van Lea Michele, oftewel Rachel. Dit zijn de laatste woorden van Cory Monteith, oftewel Finn, die hij tegen haar zei.)

Blijkbaar heb ik hier ook om de week les. Woah, did not see that coming. Het vak is blijkbaar deels Engels en deels Sloveens, dus de Erasmus studenten hoeven alleen naar de Engelse colleges en de Slovenen hoeven alleen naar de Sloveense colleges. Er zijn wel 2 gastcolleges voor beide groepen.

Dit semester wordt dus rustiger dan gedacht, but don’t be fooled, want alle vakken hebben opdrachten en veel literatuur. Het is dus weer tijd voor veel zelfstudie.

Ik kwam zowel Sanne als Rita tegen bij Media Criticism, maar ook Katie. Katie is de vriendin van Sanne’s kamergenoot Delaney. Ik heb even over haar gesproken in 8. Oh, what a night, maar ik dacht dat haar naam Kaylee was. Zoals jullie weten was dat een andere situatie. Katie zit blijkbaar ook in Body and technology, dus ik vroeg aan haar hoe het was. Ik kon namelijk niet bij het introductiecollege zijn, want toen a) had ik Chinese les en b) wist ik nog niet dat ik dit vak ging doen. Volgens Katie was het best vaag, maar de leraar was “chill”.

(Darren’s Sami. Lulu vond dit nummer altijd leuk. Darren heeft de meeste nummers op deze playlist, namelijk 12 en dan ook nog 3 met zijn band Computer Games.)

Katie bracht ons naar de eetgelegenheden van Faculty of Economics. Daar kon je bij een cafetaria eten, of je kon broodjes enz. kopen bij een café genaamd Bigdil.

Dil?

Nee, andere Dil, namelijk Bigdil. Dus ik heb een warme panini met mozzarella, tomaat en pesto gegeten voor 0 hele euro’s. Ah, Boni!

(OVERSTREET’s Wasted Time was één van de eerste nummers.)

Mijn faculteit heeft een (precies) gelijksoortig café genaamd AULA. Volgens Katie is er niet echt een groot verschil tussen Bidgil en AULA, maar ze wisselt gewoon af voor de lol.

Als ik terug ben in Nederland, zou ik weer moeten wennen aan de prijzen daar. Zelfs zonder Boni is een panini hier goedkoop. Tenminste, als je buiten de toeristische plaatsen bent.

(Ik weet niet echt wat ik moet denken van Jenna Ushkowitz’s Standing on My Own. Het is zo dramatisch, maar Jenna heeft gewoon de beste stem. Jenna is Tina.)

Aangezien we verder een vrije dag hebben, zijn Sanne en ik naar huis gelopen. Wel nog even gestopt bij de Mercator, want Barbara schreef op de app dat onze handzeep op is. Dat is nu wel een cruciaal iets.

Dus ja, dat is het. Aangezien mijn andere college geannuleerd is, zie ik geen reden om nu nog naar buiten te gaan. Het weer is ook bagger. Sanne zei dat het haar moest laten denken aan Nederland, maar ik las dat het sneeuwde in Nederland.

Hier heeft het alleen maar geregend en ook eventjes gehageld. De mooie zonnige dagen zijn voorbij.

(Noah Guthrie had misschien maar een paar afleveringen in glee als Roderick, maar hij heeft zeker een indruk achtergelaten. Zijn stem is hemels en je hoort het heel goed in Moment. Ik ben naar zijn concert gegaan in december!)

Dus ja, ik denk niet dat ik deze post nu (anno 13:55) publiceer, want het is best kort en ik weet, ik weet, ik ben niet van plan om nog naar buiten te gaan, maar je weet maar nooit.

(Darren’s Foolish Thing is mijn favoriete nummer van zijn Homework EP. Ik ben in 2018 met Merel naar zijn concert in Londen geweest en tot de dag van vandaag vind ik haar quote “Ik heb nog nooit zo’n religieuze ervaring in een kerk gehad” geweldig. Ja, zijn concert was in een kerk.)

21:21. Ha ha ha.

(Alex Newell, oftewel Unique, was niet mijn favoriet in glee, maar ik heb zijn muziek een paar jaar geleden ontdekt en wow. Devilish is zo goed.)

Zoals verwacht heb ik niet meer veel gedaan. Als ik plannen had gehad, dan had het weer het ook wel verkloot. Het heeft gehageld en daarna ook nog gesneeuwd. Inmiddels is het grootste deel dat op mijn dakraam lag gesmolten.

Sanne en ik zijn de papieren voor de First Residence Permit in aan het vullen. Ik had ze al een week geleden ingevuld, maar het is altijd handig om te controleren. Ik had sommige delen namelijk overgeslagen, want de vragen zijn best vaag.

Morgen gaan we naar Administration. We gaan vroeg rond half 9 (rip mijn plannen om uit te slapen), want het kan dus druk zijn. Alsnog, Kath en Rita hebben uren gewacht. Het ergste is dat er ook nog een grote kans is dat we onze permit pas krijgen als we weggaan.

“Wiet” had tijdens de tour uitgelegd dat er een soort van constitutionele crisis was en als gevolg is de Sloveense administratie niet meer top-notch. Helena, van Central International Office, had op de introductiedag ook al verteld dat de autumn Erasmus studenten hun permit pas in januari kregen.

Context: autumn semester was vanaf begin september tot ergens begin-midden januari. De meesten gingen bijna al weer weg.

(Oh, ja, er staan ook covers op deze playlist. De cover van Elastic Heart, gezongen door Noah en Laura Dreyfuss, oftewel Madison, is zo goed. De combinatie van de stemmen is zo mooi. Waarom hebben deze twee nooit een duet gehad in glee? Ik herinner me dat velen Roderick x Madison een interessante ship vonden.)

Morgen gaan we dus lekker lang in de rij staan. Daar ga ik tenminste van uit. Ik denk niet dat dit zoals de Boni is, waar alleen de eerste dagen veel drukte is.

Rita had ons wel gewaarschuwd dat je dus naar de balie moet waar ze Engels spreken. Herinner je dat? Rita had uren gewacht en toen bleek ze ook nog eens verkeerd te zijn. Rita had Sanne verteld dat de vrouw achter de balie weigerde Engels te praten, want “daar was ze niet toe verplicht”.

Dan vraag ik me wel af: je werkt bij de administratie van de Sloveense overheid met een internationale afdeling. Mensen die hiernaar toe komen, zijn niet-Slovenen die zich komen registreren.

Niet-Slovenen die niet altijd Sloveens praten.

Stel je voor, ik ga bij gemeente Nijmegen werken om buitenlandse studenten te helpen en ik weiger ze te helpen als ze niet genoeg Nederlands kunnen na de volle anderhalve week dat ze in het land zijn.

(Samuel Larsen heeft zeer... sexy??? muziek??? Ik weet niet hoe ik het anders moet beschrijven. Education is wel goed. Het is gewoon een beetje raar, want in glee speelde hij Joe, de ultra christen die op zijn blote voeten naar school kwam om dichter bij Jezus te zijn en die zijn hele lichaam onder had getatoeëerd met teksten uit de Bijbel (wat btw een zonde is volgens de Bijbel die hij op zijn lichaam heeft geplakt). Dat is er een verschil tussen letterlijke “Teen Jesus” en dit soort nummers best groot.)

(Forever I Do. Elke keer als een nummer van Damian begint, denk ik dat het dubbel op de playlist staat, want al zijn nummers klinken best wel hetzelfde.)

Oké, genoeg over het Residence Permit gedoe. Ik heb er nu al geen zin in.

Verder heb ik eindelijk iets in mijn schetsboek gezet. Ja, dat schetsboek dat ik gekocht heb in BTC. Nog geen tekeningen enz., maar meer een indicatie van wat ik wilde tekenen, namelijk... mijn sims....

Ik wil gewoon een soort van ritme of lijst hebben die ik kan tekenen? Zoals Anneke, die elke dag een outfit of een paard ging tekenen. Dat is gewoon de beste manier om te beginnen.

En het eerste waar ik aan moest denken is mijn 8 generatie lange Pereira-Crabtree family.

(Darrens Don’t You is nooit echt mijn favoriete nummer geweest, maar ik waardeer het.)

Dus ja, ik heb nog niet echt iets getekend, maar ik heb alle namen van mijn sims opgeschreven, zodat ik een houvast heb. Nu kan ik niet meer terug. Nu moet ik wel tekenen, wahahahaa. Ik weet niet of ik één Sim per dag ga doen, of 3 Sims per dag, want ik heb 3 namen per pagina geschreven.

Het zijn 36 pagina’s. 108 sims. Ik heb ook het gevoel dat ik misschien iemand vergeten ben.

Ja, ik heb wel eventjes genoeg inspiratie. En er zijn nog meer sims in aantocht. De 8e generatie staat op het punt om uit te breiden.

(Razor Blade is het beste nummer van Noah. Ik had het ook gefilmd tijdens het concert. De link is ergens in dit blog post.)

Ik ben ook van plan om het “from memories” te doen en luister, ik speel veel sims, dat weet ik, maar sommige sims zijn al jaren dood, dus natuurlijk zie ik die niet meer. Ik ben misschien een beetje geïnspireerd door KickThePJ’s drawing from memory series op YouTube. De laatste toevoeging was Undertale.

Oh my fucking god tumblr you shit site. Ik probeer de hele tijd de video van PJ toe te voegen, maar elke keer verwijdert deze site automatisch mijn appendix. Dus toen probeerde ik mijn appendix maar te kopiëren, zodat ik het later toe kon voegen, maar deze vreselijke site verkloot altijd bulletpointposts.

Ach ja, dan maar old fashioned. Hier is de link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmUwIg8pn50

Ugh. Ik probeer ook een goede gif van PJ te vinden, maar het gif systeem van deze site is net zo klote. Inmiddels heb ik twee OVERSTREET nummers geluisterd en nu weer bij Kevin McHale (All I Want Is You speelt nu af). Het is niet dat ik geen goede gif kan vinden, maar tumblr gaf me een goede hilarische gif en toen ik erop wilde klikken, verdween die gif en nu kan ik het niet terug vinden, zelfs met de juiste tags, want het hele tag systeem van deze site is ook klote.

(Inmiddels zijn we bij Computer Games, de band van Darren Criss met zijn broek Chuck Criss. Ja, ze heten Computer Games. Every Single Night is hun bekendste nummer en het is een sterk contrast met Darrens eigen “coffeeshop AU” muziek.)

Ugh, tumblr. Dan maar een andere kattengif re: deze situatie.

I give up.

Tumblr, you win today.

Appendix: How many songs of each artist on my Glee bops playlist

Kevin McHale (Artie): 10

Chord Overstreet (Sam): 1

OVERSTREET: 9

Darren Criss (Blaine): 12

Computer Games: 4

Matthew Morrison (Mr. Schue): 2

Lea Michele (Rachel): 5

Noah Guthrie (Roderick): 10

Laura Dreyfuss/LOLADRE (Madison): 2

Alex Newell (Unique): 6

Samuel Larsen (Joe): 3

Next City: 2

Billy Lewis Jr. (Mason): 1

Jenna Ushkowitz (Tina): 2

Amber Riley (Mercedes): 2

Leading Ladies: 2

#i just miss dil lol #february #blog post #24

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klaineship2 · 5 years

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TDB Rewatch Hurt Locker 1 Episode 6x04

“Since when have you cared about me and Blaine?”

This is the first of a set of episodes I don’t really know how to feel about. It’s mostly probably because I’m not used to tv shows doing such extensive 4th wall breaking (a term I didn’t know until a few years ago - and something you usually don’t see on German tv shows) When I first watched it in 2015 I had just barely dipped my toes into fandom, knew nothing about Tumblr and had only read 3 AU fics and hundreds of missing scenes. I felt like the writers wanted to mock me for my obsession with Kurt&Blaine. Meanwhile after learning about all the fandom crises, conspiracy theories and hiatus despair said fandom had had to endure I can appreciate a little bit of the writer’s intentions, and, after all, they aren’t just making fun of fandom by letting Sue step outside of the show to submit the story to her will, they are also making fun of the show itself by pointing Sue’s a finger at all the plot holes and u-turns the show has done in the past.

As much as I loved the cracky-crazy episodes Glee has done in the past, I’m tired of Sue and her feud with Will. This had too much Sue-crazyness and innecessary ranting for my taste (I don’t get half of her US-related references on history, culture etc. anyway) and the music didn’t knock my socks off either. I am Kurt in Sue’s office, shaking my head in bewilderment and rolling my eyes. Focussing on the nicer things instead...

Kurt - Blaine Things

Shout-out to the costume department: I love Kurt’s floral print shirts.

Sassy Blaine is the best. He’s taking this ‘very, very seriously’.

“Huh, that’s so unlike you, Rachel.”

“I want you to think of middle C as kind of a quaint little town between bass clef land and treble clef land.” Blaine would have made an excellent music teacher.

Fun fact: my own great-grandfather looks almost exactly the same as the one Sue presents to Blaine and Dave.

I love Kurt and Blaine’s awkward conversation. It’s so obvious that they both say the opposite of what’s really on their mind.

Walter is somewhat creepy but the show really goes out of its way to leave no doubt that neither Blaine-Dave nor Kurt-Walter will be end-game.

Blaine peeking through his fingers during the VA performance

Other Things:

the prop department must have had a blast creating Sue’s Hurt Locker

Warbler’s warm-up!!!

Dave standing on a chair shrieking: “Why is there a bear in here?!” I mean Lima doesn’t even have a zoo....

Chord Overstreet is a great actor and does the best he can with that stupid plotline he got.

Sam shaving Blaine’s back - BLAM!!

Principal Abigail Figgins Gunderson <3

the only true geniuses in that choir room - THE BAND!!

I feel a teeny tiny bit sorry for Will when nobody wants to join in on his show circle.

Lobster Becky

“He damn well better know that he is on a date with America’s most eligible bachelor.”

@todaydreambelievers

#TDB rewatch #tdb rewatch the hurt locker 1 #6x04 #meta monday #Glee meta

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distressedpanda · 6 years

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Hold On (Bethyl AU)

Warnings: Language, High Emotions, Self harm, Death

Inspired by the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet

This just came to me while I was listening to this song one day. Since NAF! is doing well I figured I would try posting some of my other fics, and ideas. Still seeking prompts!

Daryl sat on his bike, outside the bustling local grocery store, waiting for Beth's shift to end. He inhaled a long drag off the cigarette held precariously between his lips. He still couldn't believe that the blond angel was dating him, let alone that they had been official for almost a year now.

That's why he was here. Not being great at romantic gestures, he wanted to do something special for her. He had gotten the idea earlier that morning, as she readied herself for work.

“We haven't been for a drive on your bike in a long time,” she had said, in an offhand comment as she pulled her long hair up in a ponytail, in their apartment. “Could be fun,” she added, pressing her hands down the front of her shirt. “I need something to take my mind off momma anyway.”

Daryl had made an affirmative grunt in reply, as she had left for work.

Annette had been sick for a few years, and was back in the hospital again. Daryl knew she was dying, there was just no way she was coming home this time. She was ready to go, had said as much to Beth, her siblings, Maggie and Shawn, and Hershel. Daryl had been there and everyday for the past month he had taken Beth, wanting to make sure she had as much time with her mother as possible.

So that was why he was here now, today they would have an adventure. Daryl would give her the world if he could, so he had gotten off early at the garage. Now that he had met her, he knew he would be lost without her in his life. He needed her more than any drug his brother had ever tried to get him hooked on. And if she needed an escape from her inescapable reality, he was gonna do every thing he possibly could to provide one to her.

She appeared through the automatic doors just then and he flicked the remnants of the dying cigarette across the parking lot.

Flipping the ignition, and revving the engine, it grabbed her attention. He knew it would. She turned to him, throwing a dazzling toothy smile at him. It made him loose the ability to breath every time he saw it.

She sauntered over to him, feeling tired but happy to see him. “Daryl, what are you doing here? Your shift doesn't end for another hour.”

“Got off early,” he looked up at her through his bangs. When she quirked an eyebrow at him, “What?”

She gave a little giggle, “That doesn't explain why you are here?”

He felt the heat creep up his cheeks and tucked his chin toward his chest before answering, “Ya said somethin bout wantin ta go fer a ride. So 'm here.”

That smile grew. He had just enough time to steady the bike, as she jumped on him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, “Thank you,” she breathed.

He nodded, into her shoulder, “Welcome,” he grunted and pulled away, “Now get on, girl.”

The ride through the country side was just what Beth needed. With her arms wrapped around Daryl's waist, her cheek pressed against the warm leather of his vest, the wind having long since ripped the holder from her hair, making it blow out wildly behind her, the slow creeping depression melted away. She breathed in the woodsy smokey leathery scent of Daryl, and the earthy tones of the landscape and woods they passed by. She had been too focused on the impending situation her family had been thrown in. But here beneath the beating warmth of the Georgia sun, she allowed herself to forget. Only for this moment, only for this ride. It would be alright, if only for a moment, she didn't have to feel like her entire world was falling apart around her.

She was so wrong.

Pulling into the parking lot of their apartment complex, both were immediately on high alert but not because the sun was quickly falling beyond the horizon. Maggie Greene, the eldest Greene daughter, stood with her arms crossed over her chest leaning against the side of the old farm truck. She had raised her head when she heard them approach, and had given a smile Daryl was all to familiar with. It was one of pity and condolence.

He had received that smile when his mother had died in the fire that claimed his childhood home. Which she had caused, and to this day he wasn't sure if she had done it on purpose or not. Some things you never get the answers for.

He felt Beth's arms tighten around his chest, and he knew that she knew.

“Bethy,” Maggie started to say, approaching the bike.

Beth jumped off the opposite side of the two wheeled vehicle, shaking her head. She raised her hands in front of her, murmuring, “No, no, no, no, no,” over and over until, the tears where pouring and her voice was shacking. But the only words she could form where, “No,” even as Maggie continued.

“Bethy, honey,” Maggie's voice hitched and it was obvious she was fighting her own emotions. Daryl, jumped off the bike, kicking the stand into place, to follow Beth. Pulling her sobbing form against his chest. He held her and as she collapsed to the ground, he went with her knowing she needed to be there.

“It was peaceful, Bethy,” Maggie's voice nothing but rice krispies, as she explained. “She went to sleep this morning, and just didn't wake up. She is in a better place. . .”

Maggie was abruptly cut off, when Beth found a new word, “STOP!!!!” She screamed and pushed Daryl violently away. She rose and stormed toward the apartment.

Daryl got up slowly from the pavement, watching his girls' retreating form.

“Daryl, she doesn't need to be alone right now,” Maggie whispered, before turning back for the truck.

“Maybe thas exactly wha' she needs,” he grumbled at her, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably.

Maggie shock her head, staring at her feet, as she opened the truck door, “I've been here before. Just trust me.”

“So've I,” he grunted toward the retreating tail lights of the truck.

He followed her, he figured he probably always would. Opening the door, he was greeted by the appearance of a tornado having run through their living room. Pictures with broken glass strewn all over the floor, blankets ripped in half, papers torn into confetti, littered the space.

She was in their room when he found her, crumpled, sitting on the side of the bed. A picture of her and Annette in a death grip in her hands. She wept openly.

He approached slowly, giving her every opportunity to tell him to leave. When he was in front of her, he knelt down on his knees and placed his hands gingerly over hers. He took the picture and placed it safely on the night stand, before returning his hands to hers.

“Beth, talk ta me, please,” his gravely voice soft and light. He didn't want to pressure her, if she wasn't ready he wouldn't push her. He loved her, and he knew from experience that she shouldn't bottle this up.

She took a long shuttering breath between sobs, then lifted glaring deadly blues at him, “This is your fault!” she gritted through her teeth, yanking her hands free of him.

Daryl knew somewhere in the back of his mind that this had to be her way of dealing. Blame the first person available, so you could deal with the pain. It still hurt and when she pushed him away from her, he fell back onto his ass willingly. Staring up at her with bewildered eyes, she stood to pace at the end of the bed. Her hands clenched in tiny fists at her sides, her knuckles alarmingly white.

She shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't blame him, he hadn't made her mother sick. But Beth couldn't let go of the thought that had surfaced, as she sat alone staring at her Mother's picture. “You stole my last moments with her,” she growled at him. Whirling on him, she pointed a finger into his face, and watched it fall with anguish. Still she couldn't stop herself, even as her heart twisted painfully in her chest, her lungs clinching behind her rib cage. “You did that, Daryl!” she spat.

This was too much. Daryl had put up with to much shit in his life and had always had a short fuse. Even with her. He stood quickly, causing her to take a few steps back. “I ain't do nothin, Beth. I didn make her sick. All I's tryina do was somethin nice. I wanted to give ya some freedom,” he hissed through his teeth trying to keep from yelling at her, even though she wasn't giving him the same courtesy.

“If you had stayed at work, I would have been there. I WOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!!!!” She screamed, arching up on to her toes to be closer to staring him in the eye.

He flung his hands up, “I ain't dealin with this shit! I don hav ta put up with ya talkin ta me like tha,” He turned heading for the door.

She followed him, hot on his heals, “Where are you going? Leaving now, when I actually need you?” She yelled at his back.

He whipped around, one hand on the front door knob, “Nah, Beth. I love ya. But I ain't dealin with this shit.”

And then he left.

Beth dissolved into violent sobs that tore through her body. She lay in a crumbling sniveling heap, for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

When she had no more tears to shed, she drew herself up to sit against the wall. Had she just lost her mother and the first person she had ever actually been in love with, all in the same day?

She felt numb, her hands clenched in fists. Her nails biting viciously into her palms, but she couldn't feel the pain. Standing to make her way to the bathroom, she needed to feel something. She had screwed up. Big time. Daryl, had only been trying to help. Besides, she had made the suggestion herself.

She had been in a terrible funk, ever since her mom had gone back into the hospital. She knew, she wasn't stupid. She knew this would be the last time, that she wouldn't come home.

Stepping in the bathroom, she locked the door. Daryl, didn't need to see her when he came back, not yet.

If he came back.

With that thought on her mind, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had pushed to far this time. Said things that never should have been aimed at him. She didn't deserve him.

She turned on the cold water, letting it run and fill the room with it's white noise.

She examined her reflection for a long time. Her puffy eyes and the track marks of tears down her cheeks, had her lip quivering again. But this time from anger. Why had her mother been taken? Why was Daryl gone? She was fouling herself entirely, if she believed for one second that he would come back, after the accusations she had thrown at him.

She needed to feel something. Something besides the overwhelming grief and anger that wouldn't let her go.

Her fist shot out, before she even registered that she had given her brain the command. The mirror shattered, clattering in a glittering cascade into the awaiting sink. Her knuckles were raw and bleeding from the collection of cuts across them.

Still, she felt nothing.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks once more and as her head fell, her eyes caught on a shard of light. The piece of triangular shaped glass held her gaze, the water flowing smoothly over it, as though it was being chosen just for her. She gingerly lifted it from the bowl. Turning and sliding down the cabinet under the sink, she sat on the cold floor.

She would feel this, she just knew she would. Her mother was gone. She had pushed Daryl away. Why should she stay here? Her father still had Maggie and Shawn. But she. She had lost everything, including the will to keep going.

The mirrored glass flashed her lost hollow baby blues back at her, as she twirled it over and over in her hand. It bit into her palm, and she felt it. For a single moment there was pain.

Lifting the glass in her hand, she rolled her opposite palm up, exposing her wrist.

Why keep going?

After about half a pack of cigarette's, Daryl decided he would head back in to check on his girl. Flicking the last butt across the dark parking lot.

Trudging up to their door, his shoulders slumped. He knew he probably should have just taken whatever she had to throw at him. But he also knew that, she needed him yelling back at her even less.

“Beth,” he called, as he closed the front door behind him. He could hear water running somewhere and followed the noise to the door of the bathroom. He knocked softly, calling her name again, “Beth.”

No answer.

He tried the knob, locked.

Knocking again, a dreadful feeling wrapped around his chest, constricting to the point of suffocation. “Beth,” he rasped louder. Pounding on the door even harder, when there was still no answer. “Beth, please,” he begged, “Just say somethin.”

Nothing.

He was slamming his shoulder into the door, the wood splintering beneath his blows. His heart racing from panic, the third blow shattered the handle free from the frame. Splinters from the frame and door, spraying across the floor.

He slid onto his knees, next to her lifeless body laying face down by the sink. Her golden locks covering her face. She was far too pale. He rolled her towards him, and that's when he saw the glass and the blood. The crimson life sustaining liquid, pouring freely from her wrist.

“No,” he breathed, pulling her into his lap. He placed his ear against her chest, praying to a God he didn't believe in, for a heartbeat. “Beth,” he breathed, hearing the faintest flutter of her heart. He reached for a hand towel on the sink counter and bound her wrist as best as he could. ”Please, don't leave me,” he begged. Lifting her from the floor, he raced from the apartment. Barely remembering to grab the keys for his truck as he went.

Shuffling her carefully but quickly into the passenger seat, he sprinted to the driver side. Slamming the door behind him, he started the truck and gunned it out of the parking lot. “Hold on,” he said, glancing across the darkness of the cab. But only silence greeted him, she was eerily still and just barely breathing. He wouldn't give up on her though, he couldn't just let her go.

The miles to the nearest hospital were a nightmare he couldn't escape, as she lay silent beside him. His vision blurring from unshed tears. His hands were shaking, even with the white knuckled death grip he had on the steering wheel. He couldn't lose her. Praying she was still there, even though he could see no light at the end of this ever growing tunnel.

Skidding to a halt, in front of the ER doors, he shoved the truck in park. Leaving it running with the keys in the ignition, all he could think about was saving his girl. He pulled her from the truck and raced inside.

“Help! Please!” He screamed, reaching the reception desk.

Immediately, she was taken from him and placed on a gurney. Wheeling her away, he clung desperately to her hand. But when they reached the entrance to surgery, a nurse pulled him away.

“No!” he growled. “I havta be with her!”

Placing a hesitant but placating hand on his shoulder, the doctors continued to roll her away from him. “Sir we will do everything we can for her. I promise,” the nameless faceless woman calmly spoke.

He crumbled on his knees, and watched Beth disappear behind a set of double doors.

A guttural cry ripped from his throat, “PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!!” The tears flowed freely across his cheeks now.

He paced back and forth in the corridor. The nurse had directed him to a viewing window. He watched them check her heartbeat.

They stitched her wrist, and she was now hocked up to so many cords and needles she looked like a human pin cushion. It broke his heart. He couldn't stand to see her like this, wishing he could take all this pain on himself. Placing his hand on the window, over her still lifeless form.

“Come back,” he breathed, his breath fogging the window. He whispered to her and God, “I still need you.”

A nurse, he honestly had no idea if it was the same one from earlier, approached him, “Would you like to see her now?”

He didn't turn his eyes away from Beth, “She gonna be alrigh?” his voice trembled.

“I don't know. Honestly that's up to her. Are you her family?” the nurse asked kindly.

“Nah, not yet,” he breathed, “I's hopin someday maybe,” he admitted, without thinking.

“Oh,” she answered, and he could hear the slightest bit of judgment in her voice. Most people didn't understand the age gap between the two of them. If he was honest with himself, he didn't really get it either. It had been her choice, her insistence, that had convinced him to give this a shot in the first place. He didn't care what they thought of him, he was a Dixon after all. But that didn't give people the right to judge Beth for her choices.

He heard the women sigh and then caught her squaring her shoulders at him, “Look, I know this isn't any of my business. But I am thinking you may be just the person to revive her."

His head snapped around on his shoulders. Looking her up and down, she was a small thing like Beth. But the similarities ended there. She had short dark hair, brown eyes, with soft rounded features, the tag on her scrubs shirt read, Millie.

She crossed her arms impatiently in front of her chest, “So how bout you get in there and give her a reason to live,” she huffed. Then spinning on her heels, walked off down the hall.

He turned for the door, and had his hand on the door handle, when she called out, “I will contact her family for you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt to smile, “Thanks,” he said to her retreating form and pushed into the cold dark hospital room.

The sounds of the machines were so much worse than the sight of them through the window. The steady beeping and the incessant buzzing sounds from the screens and monitors, had Daryl feeling sick.

Approaching the side of the bed, the tears started anew. Silently rolling down his cheeks. She was still too pale. The color drained completely from her face, she was as white as the sheet she lay upon. Her golden mane haloed haphazardly, framing her head. Gently lifting her hand, he sat in the chair next to the bed, and held her cold fingers between his hands.

“Beth,” his voice cracked and broke. He cleared it before continuing, “'m not good at this stuff. I don know what ta say ta get ya back.” Even whispering, his voice was to loud and gravely, hurting his own ears. He pulled her hand up, resting his forward against his clasped hands. She was worth it. He just had to figure out how to tell her. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and let go of everything he was holding inside.

“I still want you. I still need you,” he breathed against her hand. “I'll make this right somehow. I love you. I will love you my whole life. Just please, girl, please, come back.”

The silence was deafening, even with the rhythmic tones from the machines. He wept openly, “Please don't leave me,” his voice sounding like a shout in his ears, but coming out as nothing more than air. “'m not strong enough to live without ya. I can't lose ya, I can't let go. I just wanna take ya home.” His heart was shattering, making it impossible to breath around these emotions that were bombarding and suffocating him.

The door to the little room was thrown open. Daryl snapped his head up and around at the intruder, but quickly his face softened and he tucked his head away from the three advancing on them.

Maggie reached him first, “What did you do?!” she screamed at him. Daryl tucked even further into himself. This was his fault. He knew that. He never should have left her alone, after they argued. Or maybe he should have left her alone to begin with.

Hershel placed a restraining hand on Maggie's shoulder, “Maggie,” his voice pleading with her.

She shrugged violently away from him, “No, Daddy,” she countered turning accusing eyes on him and her brother, who stood silently holding Beth's other hand across from Daryl. “I told him not to leave her alone,” she rounded back on Daryl. “I told you not to leave her alone!”

He nodded at her. What more could he do? “Yer right. Ya did. And I did,” his voice defeated and so tiny for a man like him.

Hershel moved to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Daryl stood. Dropping Beth's hand and moving around them toward the door. “'m sorry. I know it's not enough, but 'm so sorry,” he managed, before exiting the room.

He slid down the wall outside the door, burying his tear soaked face in his hands. His shoulders shaking, as grief stricken sobs ripped from his throat.

Maggie could hear Daryl sobbing outside. Her heart twisted in her chest, causing her already short breath to hammer out of her lungs. Pushing the feeling aside, she turned to look at the eerily still form of her little sister. Her Daddy now holding the hand Daryl had vacated, Shawn still holding the other. She stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at Beth. Maggie watched her chest moving up and down softly beneath the hospital blankets.

Maggie shivered from guilt, she shouldn't have lashed out at Daryl. It's just that they had already lost there monarch that afternoon, her small family unit couldn't stand to get any smaller.

Turning she moved silently toward the door. Her hand on the handle, she glanced back over her shoulder. Her Daddy, smiled sadly up at her and nodded. She returned the smile, and opened the door.

Daryl's sobs had quieted, his face still hidden behind his hands. He jerked his head up, when he felt a body slide against his side. Maggie. She was now sitting beside him, her knees pulled up to her chest. She draped her arms over her knees and began picking at her thumb. He couldn't look at her, tucking his chin to his chest.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. He shook his head at her but she cut him off. “I don't wanna hear it. I know I shouldn't have said those things to you. She did this to herself and its up to her whether she wants to live or not.”

Daryl's breath caught in his throat and he tried to swallow the knot forming there, as she continued. “I have been here before, with my momma. It's why I said, she shouldn't be alone. I don't really remember much of it, but I remember the feeling.”

“I do,” he grumbled, surprising them both. Maggie's inquiring brow, brought more from him, “I been here too. Lost my ma, but I remember all of it. 's why I knew she should be alone.”

She scoffed, picking at her thumb again, “Yea, and I am guessing that's why this happened.”

It wasn't a question but Daryl shook his head at her anyway. “Nah, if I had ignored what ya said and left her alone ta begin with, I don think this woulda happened. She ain't you, Maggie. She's different.”

Maggie nodded, “Your right. She isn't me.”

They sat there silent for a long time, neither looking at the other. Maggie rose to her feet eventually. Standing in front of him, she extended her hand, “Let's go take care of our girl.”

He looked up through his long shaggy bangs, “Ya sure ya want me in there?” Still sounding so tiny, and Maggie's heart broke for him.

She drew her lips into a thin smile, it was partially forced but still genuine, “Yea, Daryl. She needs you, and our family doesn't need to get any smaller.”

Almost twenty-four hours later, Daryl was alone with Beth again. Hershel, Maggie and Shawn, needing to leave to make preparations for Annette's funeral. Hershel also had to fill out more of Beth's medical info, Daryl hadn't known everything.

Before they had left, they had begged her to wake up. Hershel praying that she would be awake before they had no choice but to proceed with her mother's burial.

Daryl's eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but he fought sleep with every ounce of strength he had. Nurses had come in telling him to go home and get some rest, but he couldn't leave here without her. He wouldn't. He was determined to be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes.

He believed she would, because he couldn't imagine a world without her in it. He told her as much, over and over. He didn't think he had ever spoken this much in his life, but with her in this helpless state, the words tumbled from him, like a desperate lion finally released from captivity.

It was nearing night fall on the second day at the hospital, when he couldn't fight his eyelids anymore. Sitting in the chair, his head lent against the bed, her hand still in his, he drifted for a moment.

The squeeze against his fingers had his eyes popping open, his head snapping back on his neck so hard there was an audible crack. He looked up at her angelic face and groaned, seeing the coloring in her cheeks that was slowly starting to grow.

“Beth,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, and felt a weak squeeze in response. A stuttering shaky breath escaped his lips to dance across her warming fingers.

Beth's eyelids fluttered, the bright over head lights hurting her eyes. Her vision was blurry, and she didn't understand why she hurt so much.

She heard her name escape an intimately well known set of lips, and she turned slowly to the voice, gently squeezing the hand wrapped around her own.

She could see him. Everything else in the room was still alarmingly blurry, but him. Daryl. He was clear.

“Daryl,” she groaned, her throat raw and dry.

He smiled, teary light shining from his eyes. He sat forward and ran his free hand along her cheek. Then stood and lent over her to place a soft kiss on her forehead, “I thought I lost ya.” The gravel in his voice intensified by the emotion she could hear there.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, “I'm so sorry, Daryl.”

He shook his head against hers, closing his eyes, “Nah, 'm the one tha should be sorry.”

She didn't want to argue with him. She would have to learn to forgive herself and so would he. So she said the only thing she could. The only thing she needed and wanted to say. The only thing that mattered, “I love you, Daryl.”

He sobbed once, running his thumb over her cheek bone, “I love you, Beth.”

#bethyl #daryl dixon x beth green #daryl dixon #beth greene #daryl #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #bethyl au #alternate universe

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a-slightcatchoflightning · 7 years

Text

Hold On - An FBG AU

Tw:// suicide, blood, fireworks, vomit mention, burns (if there are any more, please tell me)

Based on the song: Hold On - Chord Overstreet

(This might make more sense if you listen to it first)

For @casual-laurie omg this took me so long I’m sorry

Words: 3,811

November 5th: 4pm

He succumbed to the chill in the air, pulling his windbreaker around him in attempt to pull what little warmth his body produced closer to him; the cigarette dropped from his mouth and he ground it into the dirt with his heel the way any chain-smoker would, before yanking his windbreaker even closer to his chin, his breaths raspy as the temperature ever lowered itself.

“Come on Dervs, time to go home” Lofty told the greyhound as she raised her head and tilted it to the left as though to question the crushed filter resting beneath the toe of Lofty’s boot.

“I don’t smoke” He told her, tugging her lead gently and walking her away from the pond they were facing, losing the reflections that danced across the water, “I know you wouldn’t judge me, even if I did…”

As they turned the corner to the park gate Lofty felt the smoke in the air, but he shrugged it off, instinctually pulling Dervla a little closer into heel.

365 days earlier

“I’m sorry; we need to ask you keep your distance Sir!” One of the paramedic’s cries, but the man running alongside the stretcher doesn’t see him. His tunnel vision is focused only on his son and the pooling crimson that decorates the sheet beneath him – despite their best efforts, even the paramedics can’t erase the action of mere hours before.

“But he’s my son!” The man screams, wrestling with the numerous nurses and porters immediately on hand as they burst through into the ED, “He’s my son…” His voice cracks as he tears a hand across his face in desperate attempt to clear his eyes of the tears that stream from them, distorting his vision.

“Sir, please” Yet another nurse attempts to pull him to the side, away from the incoming trolley and to the side of the doors leading into resus.

“No! I need to be with my son!” His words overlap the frantic instructions of the doctors and suddenly a nurse he knows steps from those crowding his son.

“Dyl…Dyl!” His shouts swamp all of those around him, breaking through part of the man’s hazed mind. “Dyl, he isn’t going to be okay if you keep obstructing them, you need to come with me!” Somehow, Lee manages to stay calm despite the haste.

“H-He’s gonna b-bleed out like M-Maddie did” Dylan whines as he lets Lee steer him through double doors to the relative room, his struggling is numbed by the realisation.

“No, no, no; Dylan it’s gonna be okay, he’s not gonna bleed out, I promise… He’s gonna be okay…”

Dylan nods tearfully, gripping Lee’s shoulders as he trembles. “Are-are you just saying that because you want it to be true, or do you…” His eyes glaze over as he turns, trying to take in the room and forget everything else. “Do you jus- do you just want it to be true?” His teeth are gritted, and his voice wavers dangerously as Lee shakes his head and helps him to sit.

“It will be true” He assures him.

November 5th: 5pm

“Dads, I’m home” Lofty called through the boat, shutting the door with a solid thump, behind him. Kicking off his shoes, he loosened Dervla’s lead and watched as she skittered off into the kitchen, leaving him to hang the lead on the hook by their faded red door.

“Hello Ben, how was it?” Dylan came through the kitchen door, half-occupied with the tying of his bowtie, clearly readying himself for the night.

“Yeah… It was good” Lofty forced a smile now how face had thawed from the biting cold outside. “Bit cold.” He added shrugging off his coat and following Dylan into the kitchen.

His feet were heavy.

“Here Ben, give us a hand!” David laughed from where he stood by the stove. His tie hung loose around his neck, making him look as though a child dressing in his father’s clothes.

“Okay” Lofty replied, stepping over and deftly tying the tie around his Dad’s neck, adjusting it slightly until it looked smart, “Your waistcoat looks nice, Papa”

“Thank you Ben” David smiled, ruffling his son’s curls gently, “So what are you going to be doing tonight? You could always invite Max over?”

Lofty ran a hand through his curls. “Max is busy tonight… And Iain and Dixie are still in Cyprus…” Admittedly Max wasn’t busy, but having him over would ruin Lofty’s plans, he thought, “Do you mind if I go to my room? I need to work on the curtain call…”

“Of course you can go, Ben” Dylan assured him from where he stood to his son’s left; he was slightly confused as to why his son was asking to go to his room, but he shrugged it off anyway and turned to his husband with a soft smile.

365 days earlier

Lofty bounces into the kitchen, steadying himself on the table, before looking up and grinning at David, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Anything I can help with Papa?”

“Could you give this a stir for me please? I’m going to go find out where your Dad’s got to… He said he’d only be fifteen minutes” David chuckles, shaking his head fondly as he takes his mobile and leaves the room.

Lofty smiles into the mixture he stirs it, watching intently as it swirls in the heat of the pan, and he thinks of the night ahead.

November 5th: 6pm

Lofty collapsed on his bed; his head had only been getting louder since he awoke, and he wasn’t sure he could stand it for much longer, let alone if it was going to be the same every year. Sure, Will had warned him this might happen, but he wasn’t expecting such a sheer concentration of volume to descend on him in one go.

“Ben?” A soft knock brought Lofty out of his trance and he sat up, brushing the tears he hadn’t even noticed had fallen, from his face.

“Yeah?”

“We know today’s hard for you… We can stay on the boat tonight if you like…” Dylan spoke gently as he sat beside his son on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him ever so slightly closer.

“No, I’m okay Dad” Lofty smiled up at him, “You and David have been planning this for months… You should go, I’ll be okay”

“Are you sure?” Hope wavered in Dylan’s voice, as much as he tried to mask it, and Lofty heard the hope. He couldn’t crush his Dad again; Dylan was constantly doing things for him, it was his turn now.

“Of course!” Lofty stood from the bed and walked across to his desk, picking up some homework left strewn. “I’ll watch a movie with Dervla and get this done” He waved the drama work unenthusiastically and felt a gentle heat inside when Dylan chuckled in response.

“Okay then, we’re only a phone call away” Dylan stood, making his way towards the open door, before turning back again. “I’m proud of you Ben”.

He closed the door on his way out.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Lofty flopped back down onto his bed, listening for the inevitable clunk of the front door closing and the sound of heels on gravel. The expected noises sounded just fifteen minutes later and gave the cue for Lofty to sit again.

If it hadn’t been for the sound of a screamer along the horizon.

365 days earlier

A crack of gunpowder sounds as the firework shoots off the deck of the boat and Lofty jumps in anticipation; everyone sighs as a reflection of gold sparks flit across the surface of the water like butterflies – they are in awe of the beauty that splits the sky.

November 5th: 7pm

Lofty shot off the end of his bed before having even sat up fully and snatched his mobile from his desk, leaving the script discarded atop his duvet.

“C-come on” He stuttered, watching as his fingers helplessly attempted to make contact with the dial-pad button, before giving in and jabbing the phonebook image, tears blurring his vision.

One ring…

Two rings…

The end of the line crackled as Max picked up, breathless, most likely from running to the phone.

“Lofty? I thought you were going out tonight?”

“M-max…”

“Lofty this isn’t funny, why are you calling me?” Lofty could hear what could only be… irritation in his boyfriend’s voice, and he shrank back physically at the thought.

“I’m sorry, please help”

“Why?”

“Th-there was a screamer” Lofty stated bluntly, not able to rub the tears away as quickly as they formed behind his quivering eyelids.

365 days earlier

The boat chars around Lofty’s shaking form – the body of the firework they’d said farewell to only moments ago pierces his chest and lower half of his face, cruelly branding the areas into which it rips.

“Ben!” Dylan’s voice is hoarse and his screams of anguish echo across the water, ricocheting for what must be a mile. His son’s body judders in the cold and when Dylan gasps for breath, he can hear the teeth of the boy chattering. “Ben, I’m not going to let you die” Dylan whines, biting back tears.

A second figure rushes through the sliding glass doors, phone grasped in hand. He shakes with such violence; he may as well be his own personal earthquake.

“A-ambulance is on its w-way” David can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, too much for his body to accommodate for, so instead it vibrates in fear.

Dylan’s sobs, and his son’s chattering teeth are muted as the atmosphere is filled with the overwhelming barrage of sirens. For a brief moment, Dylan’s attention flicks to the side as he realises Lee is on shift until gone midnight that night, and then dread swarms his body as realisation hits as to just how many burn injuries will have to be treated that night.

Does Lofty stand a chance?

November 5th: 9pm

Lofty awoke, an imprint of his phone left pressed into his face from where he lay sprawled across his bedroom floor. Rubbing his head as he stood, he winced against the gentle bruise that formed; he couldn’t remember how he reached the floor, and then all of a sudden, he could. Wincing weakly at the glow of the streetlights through his bedroom window, Lofty pushed himself from the floor and grabbed his phone.

“Fuck you” He muttered as he crept from his room.

“Th-there was a screamer”

“You know what Loft? I get that you’re having a-a crisis or something, but I’m really not in the mood!”

“Please… I’m sorry…”

“You will be. Don’t fucking lie and say you’re too busy to call and then call me begging for help!”

“M-Max if you knew…”

“Stop crying, we aren’t six anymore. I’m really angry Lofty; you can’t just screw me over like this!”

“Fine so leave! Just leave me alone, I don’t care about you anymore! I hope you stop caring too! Maybe it’ll hurt less…”

“Oh bugger off then”

Max hung up, leaving only a dead line to punctuate the next rattling screamer. Lofty needn’t have worried though; his sobs soon drowned the sound of any fireworks.

Lofty could feel the clamminess of his hands as he wrung them together with anxiety, his fingers shaking violently as he hung over the call button, Max’s name highlighting the otherwise darkness surrounding him as he stood alone in the bathroom. A tap on the bath dripped and Lofty shivered again.

For a split-second, realisation of what this might do to his dads hit him, but he shoved it back, shrouding it in the darkness that seemed to inhabit his soul; it was as much a scar as the one that disfigured his chest and left arm, why should he have to cope with either scar any longer?

His finger slipped and suddenly the dial-tone was sounding, but as much as he wanted to, Lofty couldn’t hang up.

So he waited.

“Lofty I already said… Okay, I’m sorry for most of what I said, but call me back tomo-“

“I’m about to kill myself-and, and I want you to know it’s not your fault” Lofty choked back a sob, biting his lip in desperation to keep back the tears; he didn’t deserve to be the one crying for what he was about to do, “There are t-too many screamers and they-they keep getting in my head… Not just today, every day… I can-“

The line went dead with a click and Lofty felt his knees collapse as though they were never there to start with.

An indistinguishable murmur – a mixture of relief and hurt – escaped his lips as he went to make the first cut with the blade concealed in his phone case.

365 days earlier

“Oh my god, Dad!” Lofty laughs uncontrollably as David emerges from the living room wearing a hat constructed entirely of balloons, shaped into a giraffe.

Lofty’s fingers are intertwined with Max’s in the chill of the November air and they wear matching grins as they watch David make a matching hat for Dylan who shakes his head fondly and plays moody, refusing to wear it as though a young child.

“Here, I’ll wear it” Lofty giggles, taking the hat and placing it on his head one-handed, only to miss and for it to fly away in the gentle breeze, landing atop the water.

“You know we’re going to have to get that in, right?” Dylan mutters to his husband, “The council will be all over us if we don’t…”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s do fireworks first though darling” David leans in to peck Dylan’s lips and Lofty and Max groan jokingly, turning away to look over the water as they steal a kiss of their own.

November 5th: 9:30pm

Max ran, his chest heaving as rain thundered down onto him, each droplet sharp like a blade as it plastered his hair to his face. Scrubbing the soaked tendrils of hair from his face messily with one hand, he used the other to steady himself as he fell into the side of the boat, having finally reached it.

“Lofty open up!” His screams resounded around the port, quickly followed by his raining down of thumps at the door. “Lofty!” His throat was scraped raw and he kicked the plant pot over, not bothered by the broken pottery eight-year-old Lofty had worked at for hours.

Upon grabbing the key, Max grazed his knuckles on the wood of the stair and swore viciously as his shaking hands attempted desperately to unlock the door.

He didn’t stop screaming until he reached the bathroom.

365 days earlier

“I’m so sorry” Lee walks into the room. He looks numb, as though his surroundings and himself have been paused and put on mute. It’s grey, the thought invades Dylan’s brain, and he can think of nothing else.

“What.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Lee takes what Dylan says on board, pulling at his scrubs anxiously, before shutting the door behind him and muting the surroundings even further.

“I-it’s unchangeable… it’ll be there forever, I’m so sorry”

“What.”

November 5th: 10pm

“L-Lofty no…” Max’s fingers stumbled across his boyfriend’s bloodied phone screen as he searched for the ‘9’ on the emergency call dial pad.

“Mmph” Came the unexpected response.

Max’s hands slid around as he tore his t-shirt and tied each of the two strips frantically around Lofty’s upper arms.

“Please don’t leave me!” He screamed as his boyfriend’s eyelids fell shut and his posture became more slumped than before, if that was possible. “Lofty please!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

“P-please” Tears like torrential rain tipped from Max’s eyes and he didn’t try to control them anymore, nor did he care about his exposed upper half or the wet locks of hair that stuck to his head. Blood decorated his upper torso like some sick stain, marking him as a traitor; a traitor to his own boyfriend. His own Lofty.

He shuddered.

“I-if only I hadn’t yelled at you…” He choked to Lofty’s un-responsive form, “I=I’m so sorry”

365 days earlier

Sirens dance through the air and Dylan’s attention hooks away from the invisible blood laced across his palms and instead onto them. Still, he can’t stop staring into the lines on his hands – those marks.

He imagines a fortune teller reading them; what would they say? A solemn voice perhaps - or one deeply concentrating. How would he handle the words? “Your son is dead.” Would the teller even need to concentrate? The answer is inevitable; even the merest of mortals can see it coming a mile off…

So why can’t Dylan believe it?

November 5th: 11pm

A long endless highway, you're silent beside me

Max had vomited, as much as he’d wanted to hide the shock and the chill in his bones. His mouth tasted of acid, but he couldn’t tell – his boyfriend lay on a stretcher, a heart monitor displaying the slowing pulse Max never wanted to see as they raced towards Holby Hospital.

“Try to remain calm” The paramedic spoke quietly, in an even voice, but Max could see even he had dark circles that read pity beneath his eyes, and his hands were nervous despite the slow reassurance of his voice.

“S-sorry” Max’s teeth chattered and the second paramedic of the three unrolled a crinkling foil blanket and lay it gently over his trembling form. Max pulled it closer instinctually.

“No need to apologise” The second paramedic had a blonde pixie cut, and was wide in stature, but with kind eyes: the sort that gave the impression she was always smiling, even though everyone in the hastening vehicle wore the same grave expression. As she made eye contact with Max, she knew he knew what she did.

a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fadin'

365 days earlier

“I love you” Max whispers, smiling against Lofty’s lips, and pulling him a little closer.

“I love you too”

I can't imagine a world with you gone The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

November 5th: 11:30pm

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still

“Where’s my son?” A frightened father crashed through the double doors into the ED, immediately spotting Max sitting to the side, his eyes red and swollen with shed tears, and more tears yet unshed.

Dylan felt something drop.

A weight.

“Please take a seat sir” A nurse came slowly across to where Dylan stood, every essence of his once formal attire displaying his distress. As the nurse’s hands made gentle contact with either of Dylan’s shoulders, Dylan gave in, allowing himself to be led across to where Max sat.

“What happened?”

“I-I’m sorry” Max stuttered, before going silent.

365 days earlier

“We need more bloods! Can you put pressure on the blood please?” Lee’s calls became gradually more frantic as the boy’s blood pressure dropped suddenly. “This is our last chance! I’m not letting this one go; not another tonight” His voice rose over the panic of resus, and strangely, calmed his colleagues who appeared to take on a new, more controlled urgency.

November 5th: 00:00am

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong

“Why did you two fight?” Dylan’s voice was a monotone that split the silence between the two of them. Well, if silence meant doctors and nurses rushing overtime with burns victims on top of the expected RTC’s.

“He called me. He said… He said he was busy tonight, and then he called me and tried to t-tell me about screamers” A fresh tear crept down Max’s face, but he wiped it; irritated. “I yelled at him.”

That last statement hung stalely in the air and Dylan processed it, selecting his next words carefully.

“Max… As much as I’d like to… I don’t believe this was your fault…”

“How is it not my fault?” Max’s voice also hung as a monotone, “I yelled at him Dylan! Don’t you get what I’m saying?”

Dylan looked into the tired, sore eyes of the boy who sat before him. His hoodie was creased more than it should have been and his hair messy and half-dry stuck to his face and neck in places. Bloodshot eyes with a red-rim looked back into his, and didn’t at all resemble the usual cocoa-brown that Max’s held.

“He told me” Dylan took a breath, “He told me that you were busy tonight.”

“Oh.”

“I think he’s been planning this quite some time, Max, and I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault.”

Max slammed his palm against his forehead and cried out in anguish. “That’s what he was fucking trying to tell me wasn’t it!? All the crap about screamers and being sorry and everything; why didn’t I see it before!?”

“Max, this wasn’t your fault darling” Dylan rapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, but was pushed away almost as soon as his arm made contact.

“Th-there were signs” Max didn’t try to wipe away the tears that dribbled softly down his face.

“What signs, love?” Max paused at the new terms of endearment Dylan used, but continued anyway.

“He started… h-he started smoking, but he wouldn’t ac-actually do it… He just pretended and th-then crushed it b-because he said he’d skipped death once and he-he wanted to show it who w-was in charge… He called me one night an-and asked if there was a voice in m-my head too and I s-said yeah because I th-thought he’d just woken fr-from a dream… It was four am…”

“Hey, you couldn’t have possible seen this coming…” Dylan reassured him.

Just as Max opened his mouth to argue, David crashed through the doors from outside, scanning the room desperately, before his eyes landed on the two sorry figures, one of whom stood. Dylan ran over and embraced him frantically, the sobs he’d wanted to release for hours now, finally being allowed to escape.

Max could just about pick up the mutters from the two men, a mixture of “It’s okay… You’re okay” and then, “Blames himself…”

Max shook his head and turned it to count the streetlights through an angled window as the two men came and took the seats to his left. He shook his head again.

365 days earlier

“Dylan?” Lee waved a hand slowly in front of the older man’s face, bringing Dylan’s attention back into the room gradually.

“Just say it” Dylan muttered, staring at the floor.

“He’s alive.”

Let's go home.

#shoelace fandom #pls review #fierce brave gang

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