#in the background you can hear a bus cry

[just-dottore]

*sighs*

I am not feeling so well. Could you tell me a joke perhaps?

-B🔶

“Oh! I’ve got one!” He snickers before barely saying… “IsBus’ posting!” He bursts out in laughter.

“Get it? Cause IsBus doesn’t post a lot and takes a LOT of breaks!”

… “I guess it’s not really all that funny…”

[katiemccabeswife]

'Transferring to Lesbianism'

Biv Meadema x Platonic Fem!Reader

Guys are cunts so you're 'transferring to lesbianism'.

Warnings: Guys are cunts, drinking, crying, swearing

You were upset, angry and scared. You’d been on a date with Nate, a guy who you’d met at a party and hung out with multiple times before, when he started making sexist ‘jokes’ and exclaiming his bewilderment on how popular women’s sport has become, claiming that ‘the game is a joke’ now that women were getting popular.

So you left.

You had talked about him to your friends, you had talked to him about your friends and about your passion for football and at the time he sounded genuinely interested. He was even supposed to come to your next game and to hear him pull a complete 360 made you question whether he had been faking it the whole time you had spent together.

It was well into the night and you didn't feel comfortable getting the bus, you'd had a few drinks so you couldn't drive and you didn't trust getting an Uber alone. While there were definitely other (better) options, you started walking home.

You lived in a good neighbourhood but you did have to go through some sketchy ones to get to your house so you kept your keys tight between your fingers. You could see a figure ahead of you but you tried to be optimistic and hoped they would leave you alone and let you walk right past them

Optimism is stupid.

"Hello there," A male voice called out before you could fully pass it. You ignored the man and gripped your keys tighter.

"I'm talking to you, pretty," Your brain melted when you remembered you were wearing a shirt that accentuated your boobs.

"Sorry, my dad's waiting on me, gotta hurry," You replied shakily and picked up your pace.

But of course, boys just don't know when to give up.

"I'm sure he won't mind you being a few minutes late." He was now walking backward in front of you.

"He has a temper." You stopped once you noticed his feet weren't moving as you hadn't dared to look him in the eyes.

"Well I could deal with-"

"Listen could you kindly fuck off?" You cut him off before trying to storm past him. He grabbed your arm. You were already angry and you just wanted to get home and cry.

He pivoted you towards himself, still gripping your arm and you took the opportunity to kick him in the dick. While he fell to the floor like a pussy and called you a bitch, you ran off.

You were well away from the guy and gave up on saving your tears until you got home. Your eyes were drawn to an orange light illuminating the puddles on the floor. A bottle of something couldn't hurt.

You were now sitting in a well-lit park and sipping on your bottle of something, crying. You looked around for a second before realising you were familiar with the park. Your drunken mind loved chatting, everyone knew it, especially your teammates.

"VIV!" You screamed when she picked up your call.

"Y/N, why are you yelling when it's so late?" Viv spoke quietly and you could hear the muffled sound of some movie playing in the background.

"I'M LITERALLY IN THE PARK RIGHT NOW!" You were so excited and you had to chat to someone about it.

"Are you alone?" Viv asked before you could hear keys rattling and her saying something to someone.

"Yes, but it's so nice. Boys aren't nice. Boys are-are cunts. I'm going to transfer to lesbianism." You gruffled and Viv had to try hard to not laugh.

"Where are you?"

"I'M IN THE PARK!" You exclaimed excitedly.

"Which one, hun," Viv desperately sighed.

"The one that's right 'round the corner of your house! That's why I called you silly!" You laughed before crying out when you spilled your bottle of something.

"Can you wait there for me? Go stand near the street, near the bus stop and I'll be there in 2 minutes. Ok?" She was definitely in the car.

"Are you coming to hang out with me!"

"Yeah! So you gotta go to the bus stop so I can find you quick," She was right around the corner now and she had her thumb in between her teeth, scared about the state she was about to find you in.

"OMG! I literally see you!" Viv pulled over and hopped out of the car.

"Hey, what are you doing here, Y/N?" She pulled the bottle out of your hands and put it in the bin before taking your shoulders between her hands.

"Well I was on a date with Nate and then he started being all sexist and cocky and cunty so I left but I had already had a few drinks and I didn't want to catch the bus or get an Uber because they scare me. So I started walking home but then this guy came up to me and started talking to me and wouldn't leave me alone and then he grabbed me and it really hurt! So I kicked him in the balls and ran off and I was just so sad! So I went and got myself a drink and then I saw the park, where we are literally standing right now, and I was like OMG! Viv and Beth live around here, maybe if I wait I might get to see them and then I got impatient so I called you and now here we are!" You were huffing and puffing at this point before you started crying again.

Viv was quick to pull you into a hug, "Hey, it's alright. Maybe you should come with me and you can stay with me and Beth? Yeah?"

"Oh, I would really like that," You muffled into her shoulder. Viv helped you into the car before taking off. The drive was only 2 minutes but you had a lot to say. Especially about 'transferring to lesbianism'.

"OK, let's get you inside and to bed shall we?" Viv asked as you were walking up the front steps.

"But I want to hang out," You whined.

"What if we go and get brunch tomorrow?"

"Oh, I would really like that," You were in the door now and Beth was waiting for you in the kitchen. You broke out from Viv's hold and pounced on Beth, "Beffy! Guess what!"

"What?" She spoke gently and stroked your head that was resting on her chest, sharing a worried glance with Viv who looked deeply concerned.

"Guys are cunts so I'm transferring to lesbianism to be with you guys and like the rest of the team!" You were so sleepy and so sad, Beth lightly rocking you and petting your hair was helping you calm down.

"That's great?" She shook her head confusingly towards Viv, "Let's get you to bed now though,"

"Oh, I would really like that," The girls had you drink a glass of water and got you changed into some of their clothes before tucking you in for the night.

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?” You asked Beth who was sitting next to you on the guest bed, Viv watching with a small smile from the door.

“Of course, now off to sleep, you,” She kissed your forehead and you giggled.

The girls left the room and walked to the kitchen, “What on earth happened?” Beth whisper- yelled.

“Something about Nate being sexist and then a random guy wouldn’t leave her alone and grabbed her arm, she kicked him the balls and then she went and got a bottle of rum before drinking it in the park around the corner,” Viv nodded lightly at Beth who looked like she was about to cry.

“Poor baby,” Beth sympathised.

Viv laughed a little, “And then she was going on about ‘transferring to lesbianism’.”

Beth joined in, “I think she told me that?” The pair laughed before Viv took Beth into her arms.

“Let’s get to bed?” She questioned and Beth agreed.

~

When you woke up, it took a while for your eyes to adjust to the light and for the memories from last night to flood your brain. You let out a whimper due to the pain behind your eyes and the awful night you had.

When your eyes adjusted as much as possible you lifted your head from the pillow and realised that you were at Beth and Viv's house. You sighed and pulled yourself from the comfort of the bed toward the kitchen where you could hear the girls chatting.

"Hey, Y/N/N, how're you feeling?" Beth asked pushing over a coffee and bottle of Advil.

"I'm sad and my head hurts." You pouted slightly before downing a couple of the pills.

Viv pulled you into a side hug, "Well, why don't we go to brunch?"

You rubbed your hands over your face and nodded, "Yeah, that would be nice,".

The girls gave you some clothes so you could properly wash off last night in the shower and get back into some clean clothes. The drive was silent bar the low volume of the radio and you all silently exited the car before entering the cafe.

It was only after discussing what everyone was going to get and then ordering that someone brought up last night, "Y/N, do you wanna talk about last night?" Beth asked shyly.

You down from the two girls sitting across from you and fiddled with your fingers, "I'm just sick of men and how they're still stuck in the 60s. I hate how people view women and how they treat them and I'm sick of people treating women's sport as inferior to men's. I don't even know why! Why are women subservient to men? I don't get it and I'm sick of it! Men genuinely believe that their greatest achievement is to be born men and then believe all the toxic ideas about what men are. Because they are utter losers, any time a woman does something considered masculine, they feel threatened and they believe genuinely that by being verbally abusive they are 'just being men'." You were deeply disturbed by the matter, so much so that you were crying in public. You rarely cry period, so crying in public shocked the couple.

Viv moved to sit next to you and hugged you, you burying your head into her neck, "Men are just insecure that women are doing better than them, they don't know how to act so they lash out. You're right, it's not good enough but you can't force people to change their views," She started before Beth took off where Viv left off.

"But you are changing people's perspectives! With your YouTube and the interviews you do, I've read the comments. Hundreds of girls are saying how you changed their brother's and dads' views on women's sports. I've even gotten some DM's asking me to thank you for it. You are doing everything you can and you are doing wonderfully, Y/N." She was holding your hand and now you were properly sobbing, gaining a few stares from other customers.

"You are doing great, Y/N and I know that I and all of the other girls on the team are so proud of you and you inspire us to do better and to advocate even harder. You should be so, genuinely proud of how well you are doing. You should also ever let anyone, especially a man tear you down." Viv was lightly patting your head.

You lifted your head from the crook of Viv's neck and took a deep breath. You had a drink of water and wiped your eyes, "Thank you guys," Your voice was quiet and still had a deep sadness to it.

"Anytime, Schatje," Viv comforted.

"Um, I have two breakfast sandwiches and one avocado sourbread?" A waitress approached your table, breaking the sadness/tension bubble that surrounded it.

"Yeah, that's us. Thank you." Beth took the plates and gave them to their respectful owners. Once the waitress had walked away Beth swallowed and turned to you with a smirk on her face, "So, Y/N, how's 'transferring to lesbianism' going?" Viv joined Beth in laughing and you looked at the two in utter confusion.

"Excuse me?"

[billgetsmewet]

i will save your life…

request : HELLLOOOO so like- what if uh Bill x reader but like they do it while listening to deftones?? (Ex: Risk from the dimond eyes album or something) idk i feel like that would be a good short story idk 🫶🏻

warnings : p in v, smut, handjob, sub!bill, petnames (ex princess/slut etc.)

Bill has been on tour foreverrr.. he was supposed to come back today, you were telling all of your friends about it. It was a big thing, considering hes been all over europe in the past few weeks, not even stepping a foot in your hometown.

He calls you up out of nowhere saying the bus broke down, great. - you think to yourself as you sigh, making him hear on the other end of the phone. I wish i could be there with you already.. - he mumbles, but you can barely hear him.

The music in the background blurs his voice but so does the fact that he barely has any signal.

I cant hear you.. -you chuckle- are you listening to deftones in the bus?.. -you ask, making him focus on the music for a second.

Oh im not the one who put it on, it was Gustav - he chuckles aswell, before getting a bit startled by someone next to him.

The bus is fixed! - he yells out. Were gonna be there soon!

You feel your mouth rounding up into a cheeky smile as he says that, you both know what youre gonna do together when he gets home..

You get a ring at your doorbell, you get shivers down your spine as you rush downstairs to unlock the door for him.

You open the door and hug him, not even letting him enter before you do.

Is that.. deftones? - he laughs, hearing the CD player bursting deftones in your room at max volume. yeah.. i thought youd like it - you reply nervously. yeah! i dont mind it, if you know what i mean - he laughs, almost laughing off the fact that you tried to impress him.

You invite him upstairs into your room, as you always do, trying to “enjoy some time with him”. you sit down on your bed, just as he does, right next to you.

The music is blurring out any sound you might hear in your room or anywhere in your house, basically its hella fucking loud, eardrums hurting type of loud.

You look at Bill, trying to tell you something you just cant hear, with lust in his eyes, his lips glossy and his look begging for you.

You didnt even have to read his lips to know what he wanted, you felt it straight up.

You smile at him, before standing up to lower the music a bit so youd be able to hear his moans.

Next thing you know hes in his boxers and youre palming him, hes rock hard, whining for you to do something about it.. what a slut.

B-bmhh.. baby.. mhh! please! please! -he moans pathetically, begging you to fuck him.

Be patient now, wont you? you made me wait too.. you didnt visit me for weeks for some stupid tour, isnt that true, hm? -you argue.

He just keeps whining and moaning like a dog, his eyes tearing up. Baby it hurts.. p-please it hurts.. -he cries, yet you let him cry, you keep palming him and teasing him. You feel his precum leaking from his boxers, “god..” you thought to yourself, trying to hold yourself back, not letting him win.

Eventually he did win, no matter how hard you tried, you couldnt resist his puppy eyes. The music is still blasting in your ears as you hear a big moan from him, louder than the music, he has managed to rip the boxers… how? i dont know, you tell me.. It was a sign to jerk him off, or atleast you took it that way.

You started slowly pumping him from the bottom with one hand , while you tease his red, swollen tip with the other. His precum has already coated both of your palms. A-Ah!.. Ah!! please.. faster..mmh! -he moans, how cute. You do as he tells you and you start pumping him faster, now with both hands.

His mouth hangs agape, moaning and crying submissively.

Please.. please.. mommy.. please.. let me cum..-he whimpers. Do you think you deserve it, Billy? Have you been a good boy? -you ask in reply. Yes! mh..mhm! mhm.. please! yes!

He just wouldnt shut up, would he?…

A-hhmm..ah! mommy.. i cant take it anymore-mmh.. im gonna cum.. mmh.. - he moans, before comming all over your hands.

Now this wasnt acceptable, what a dirty little whore. Cant even listen to his own girlfriend.

Oh look at what youve done.. this dirty boy needs punishing, doesnt he? look at you.. - you say, degrading him. I-i.. i didnt mean to, im sorry.. i couldnt hold it back.. Nuh-uh! This dirty slut needs punishing after this.

You unbuckle your belt, letting your pants fall down, making a clinking sound as the belts hit the hardwood floor. You get ontop of him, grabbing his waist, sitting down on his lap, teasing him before you actually begin.

Oh look at you now.. already hard again.. -you say, seeing his boner become more and more intense. What a slut for mommy, arent you?

You take off your lingerie, making him stare at your bare pussy, this time, he was even harder.

You get ontop of him, bouncingyourself up and down, relaxing into the music and ignoring his requests and moans.

A-Ah! please slow down, it hurts.. mmh..-he was so sensitive, what a submissive boy.

Mhm?.. ah.. fuck.. Bill.. arent you a dirty little sensitive slut for mama, hm? -you groan, trying to hold back your whimpers and cries, he was big, you couldnt lie.

You started bouncing faster, not caring about his high but about your own, he was already a spoiled little boy anyways.

Mama.. mh.. i cant take it anymore im gonna cum again…-he cries, coincidentally right before you reach your climax, cumming all over his abdomen, making him not able to finish.

Fuck.. -you breathe heavily as you get off him. But.. But mommy… -he whines.

Bad boys dont get to finish, darling…

———————————————————————

Ps: i wrote this in school it took me like two hours and why tf is it so short… anyways the coffee thay im drinking rn is hitting diff ughhh, i think its mocha or something

[tc-doherty]

Hey! In your practical writing tips - post you said novels require lots of telling. I've noticed this too when I read, amazing books that tell a lot vs. showing but all advice gears to show and that's what I've been learning to do. Since I can't find anyone that teaches when to tell vs. show and how much tell vs. show is right and why telling is good etc. I was wondering if you could elaborate on this? Why some books that tell a lot are very engaging and others can't keep my attention? I'm so interested to see your thoughts! Thank you.

Like I said in that post, teaching people how to write isn't really my jam so this is less a teaching guide and more just my assorted thoughts on the subject based on my own opinions and the habits that I follow.

I guess what it boils down to is this. You can't really say that either showing or telling is more important in a novel, but the things that you show are perhaps more relevant.

For example, if you describe the morning routine of your character in great detail every single morning, readers are going to get bored. The story will grind to a halt. Yes you're showing us that, which most people would say is a good thing based on "show don't tell", but the information isn't relevant. If you're setting up a fantasy or sci-fi story it might be relevant once or even twice to show us how things work, but not every single time.

Similarly, if your character gets news telling them that someone they love has perished, you don't want to simply say that it made them sad. You want to show us their reaction. What do they do? What do they say? What physical sensations do they have? Are they lightheaded, do they feel out of breath, does their throat hurt because they're trying not to cry? That information is all relevant to the character, the scene, and the reader. If you simply say they're sad, then your story feels too shallow.

Many people might consider dialogue a kind of telling, but really it's both. What the characters say, how they say it, and also what they don't say can show us a lot about who they are as a person, which is relevant information to the audience even if they're simply explaining something that would be considered exposition. But what do your characters actually need to say or hear? And what can you relay to us through something happening in the background, for instance?

And what about the genre? I like to write road trip novels, which means I spend a lot of time showing the minutiae of the journey. That's relevant because the story is the journey that's being taken. But sometimes your characters just have to get from one place to another, and you don't need to get bogged down in it. You can just say that they took a bus or boat or horse or whatever.

Balancing it in any given story is the writing equivalent of "this meeting could have been email". What do you actually have to get together in a conference room to discuss (show the readers in detail) versus what can be summarized in a few sentences in an email? What will make you bored out of your mind if you see too much of it, versus what will leave you lost and confused without it?

And of course just because something is telling or summarized doesn't mean that the way that you write isn't important! Your writing should still be engaging even when you're telling. Pay attention to the words you use, the rhythm of your sentences, the variety of sentence lengths, things like that. If something is pleasant to read it will keep the reader's attention on the page. If the sentence rhythms or lengths are too similar, it becomes "monotone" and causes people's attention to wander.

Something I pay special attention to is that - unless the narrator is subjective or unreliable - I don't tell something about characters in the narration which is shown to be false. Nothing gets me riled up like supposedly objective narration which tells me a character is like so and I should feel like this about them, but then their dialogue and actions reveal that to be patently false and I feel some other way. Of course that is something that relies on the narrator being objective and having access to more information than we do. If it's a POV character who might just be unobservant, overly arrogant, biased, or kinda stupid, that's fine

When it comes to showing versus telling in regards to the background/description...well. I struggle a lot with description because I have almost complete aphantasia and can't visualize things easily. So I cheat! Anything that I describe in detail is something that my POV character is actually paying attention to. The level of detail varies from book to book based on what kind of person has the POV and what sorts of things they notice. And again, that's relevant to the audience because it's information which is relevant to the character. This is also really great way to start building up to any kind of romantic interest, because people do tend to pay a lot more attention to people they're interested in!

I feel like this has gotten really long, so if there's anything that you would like me to elaborate on more or I wasn't clear about, feel free to send another ask! I won't say I'm objectively right (usually lol) but I'm always happy to talk shop.

Hopefully some of it can be helpful to you or at least give you some things to start thinking about. And of course, it's always a good way to start by studying books that you read and seeing what you like and what you don't like and how it's been handled in both.

[hobivore]

4:29 p.m.

Han Jisung x reader (f)

Genre: smut (minors DNI)

WC: 1k

Warnings: semi-public sex, photographing sexual acts (photobooth)

A/N: This is a reupload from my old sideblog linoguistics, so you might've seen this on tumblr before!

© hobivore Reposts, translations and modifications are not allowed. All events and characters are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

SKZ masterlist | Ask box

“Smile, baby.” 

You force your eyes open, heavy-lidded, head rolled back against his shoulder. The display in front of you mirrors your face—jaw slack, pupils blown wide—as a woman’s voice counts down through the tinny speakers. 

“C—can’t,” you answer, floundering, stumbling over the letters.

“Why?” Jisung asks. His lips are hot against your neck, teeth grazing the tender skin behind your ear, and you shudder. “You’re so cute when you smile.” 

“Fuck—Ji, shut up,” you whine, annoyed, and he laughs, slippery fingers circling your clit. “Okay,” he chuckles, “I changed my mind. You’re even cuter like this.”

His hand dips lower between your thighs, two fingers sliding in with ease. “Is this why?” You swallow a whimper at the curl of his digits, slick sounds filling the small booth. “Too focused on wanting to come, aren’t you?” He blows your hair out of his face, cheeks puffing up. “Always so needy.” 

Your protest dies in your throat as he grinds the heel of his palm down. He had been the needy one, dragging you inside the photo booth with the excuse of wanting cute couple pictures, only to sneak his hands up your skirt the second you sat down in his lap. But it doesn’t matter now, it never did, not when his mouth is on your skin and his cock is pressing against your ass. 

“Can you suck me off?” 

The sudden question makes you clench around his fingers, the thought more than tempting, but—

“What if people see us?” You lower your voice, the floor-length curtain shielding you from view, yet hardly a reliable barrier between the pair of you and the world outside. “Or hear us?”

“I don’t care,” Jisung counters, uncharacteristically confident in his want. He senses your hesitation, mouth soothing your skin, soft butterfly kisses to ease the tension. “Please—” his fingers pick up their pace again and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out, “—need you. Let’s go to my house, we can take the bus, it’s only a thirty minute ride—”

Fragments of the world outside drift in and out of focus: piped music playing in the background, faint voices, footsteps of people going about their daily lives, oblivious to what’s happening a few feet away from them. It sets your nerves alight; your body reacting, the felonious traitor it is, heat pooling between your legs. 

“No.” You push his arm away and rise to your feet, hoisting him up by his hands. His wide-eyed stare follows you as you sink to your knees in front of him, hands fumbling with the button of his jeans before sliding them down his thighs in one motion, cock popping out of its confines. 

Jisung kicks his head back with a grunt as you kitten-lick a drop of precum off his slit, humming at the taste. It’s a little salty, familiar, the thought of him filling you up making your thighs slippery with arousal. 

You take him as deep as you can, hands clutching at his thighs as he secures his fingers into your hair. “Shit, you feel like heaven.” His hips twitch, involuntary, chest heaving with the exertion of holding back as your throat constricts around him. 

“Hnng—baby, you look so perfect with my cock in your mouth, wanna take a picture, keep it in my wallet forever—” Jisung’s rambling now, in the way he always does when he’s losing himself in you. “Just stay there, plea—ah, fuck.” He pushes the OK button again, metallic voice ringing in your ears as white specks stain the edges of your vision, the weight of him heavy on your tongue. 

“Wait—” he pulls out of your mouth, helping you to your feet. “Don’t wanna come, not yet,” his movements are desperate, urgent as he kisses you, “want to feel you first.” 

He sits down on the bench and pulls you onto his lap, back flush against his chest, pushing your panties to the side so you can sink onto him in one smooth motion, gasping at the feeling of him filling you up completely. 

“Baby, shh, quiet,” he mumbles, more aimed at himself than you. It’s futile; he's breaking the silence after mere seconds, unable to keep his mouth shut as he starts moving. “You like this, hm? You’re so wet, fuck—like being stuffed with my c—ah—all the time, anywhere, don’t you—” 

You nod, his words making you feel dizzy, the knot in your stomach quickly tightening. When his fingers find your clit again you shove your own into your mouth to stop yourself from moaning loudly. Jisung must feel your walls flutter around him because he slows down to collect himself, a torturous drag before snapping his hips up again. “I’m so close, baby—come for me, please,” he pleads, eyes glossy, thighs shaking with effort. 

“Jisung, I—” your fingers leave your mouth to fist into his hair, your words cut off by the wavering curtain as someone walks past, too close—

It sends you over the edge, heart hammering against your ribcage, your orgasm cresting over you in waves. Jisung’s thrusts slow down to a grind as you collapse against him, his face buried into the crook of your neck when he spills inside of you. 

You stay there for a moment until the pounding in your ears eases and the sounds of the mall bleed back into your perception. The two of you laugh, giddy at the prospect of what could’ve gone wrong, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. 

“You’re an idiot.” You stand up, knees wobbly, voice too affectionate for your words to carry any weight. Jisung wraps his arms around you and kisses you, softer, slower than before— 

“Ah!” you yelp as he gives your pussy a gentle tap, grinning, adjusting your panties to their original position. He takes the strip of pictures from the machine and kisses you one more time, smiling against your lips. 

“Let’s go home.”

Thank you for reading! If you liked this story please reblog, leave a comment, tell a friend, send me a pigeon, launch a mars rover. Your encouragement fuels my inner writer cryptid 👾

[veeluvss]

pizza delivery

reader x team (you are jj’s sister)

based of an edit i saw on tiktok but also lonestar ml <3

>1k

"how about we spend our last night together having some fun darling?" johnny snarled, handing me the phone. "order pizza. you're paying. i want a large pepperoni and fries too. don't forget the garlic mayo," she said nonchalantly, taking a seat behind me. i nodded, fumbling with the phone and making sure he couldn't see the screen.

dialling JJ's number, the phone shook violently in my hand. i was risking a lot.  johnny had his gun in my back. i was only ordering pizza. "hey y/n what's up?" jj answered, voice chirpy. "hi," i tried to keep my voice strong. "i'd like to order a pizza for delivery." she laughed down the phone, "a pizza? i think you've dialed the wrong number!" she laughed. i heard emily's voice in the background. then i heard the phone engage to speaker. "i don't think so," i told my sister. emily spoke then. "she sounds scared." i was petrified. "do you still have the cheesy crust?" i mumbled. "the address? sure." i told them the address, praying the team understood - even if JJ didn't.

jj's pov i felt sick to the stomach. morgan looked to me in the back of the car and began speeding off in that direction. i wanted to throw up. my sister. my baby. "y/n are you in danger?" emily asked, her hand resting on my leg. "is someone there making you feel like you can't speak freely?" morgan added. "that's right," she said.

i gulped, shaking my head. i put my head on emily's shoulder. "morgan drive faster god damn it," emily cursed him. "we understand y/n," morgan said. garcia spoke then but i was shaking with fear. "help us on the way." emily leaned over to the phone. "tell me, how many people are in the apartment?" "would a medium pepperoni be big enough for two people?" she muttered back. her voice wavering. i couldn't listen anymore but i had to.

your pov the gun prodded my back and whimpered. "what are you doing?" johnny snarled. "i asked for a large." "there's one other person with you, is that what i'm hearing?" morgan asked. "yes! that's right!" my voice went up, a glimmer of hope. they were coming. "you're doing great," emily praised me and i wanted to cry. why wasn't JJ speaking? where was she? i needed her to come too. "is the person threatening you armed?" i heard rossi ask. they told me to ask for extra pepperoni and my heart was beating harder. this was taking too long - far too long. "is this person known to you?" emily asked. "mhmm," JJ knows johnny. JJ knows how bad he was with me, no one else does. "a family member? a spouse or an ex?" "the last one," i whimpered, feeling the gun press further into my back. "how long are you going to be?" "we're 8 minutes out," derek told me and my heart plummeted. that was too much time. "ask for peppers if there is somewhere safe you can get to..." emily said. "no! definitely no peppers."

jj's pov. tears were streaming steadily down my face at this point. when garcia told us his name, i whimpered and cowered in my seat. i knew i should have done something about him when i had the chance. "two priors of aggravated assault," garcia said. "she had a permanent restraining order against him." "so this is his third strike, he's not going peacefully," morgan threatened. all i could think about was my sweet little sister, sobbing in my arms at his abuse. why didn't i do something sooner?

your pov "what the hell is taking so long?" johnny groaned, cocking the gun. i gulped. "sorry, they're just really bus-" "then call somewhere else!" he shouted, making me cower. "i'm starving!" i took a deep breath, "listen, i might have to cancel this order. my boyfriends getting kind of mad so.." "listen y/n, we'll be there in less than two minutes with swat." morgan told me and i felt some sort of relief. emily begged me to stay on, asking me to try my hardest and i agreed. i was still waiting to hear my sisters voice. that's the only hope i needed. morgan began asking me questions but suddenly the cloth forced itself around my mouth. i couldn't breath. "nice try, bitch." johnny snarled, snatching the phone from my hand. then, sweet saviour, i heard her. "johnny, where's y/n?" "she's right here," he laughed before hitting me. i groaned and cried. "please," i sobbed. "say hi to your friends," he laughed. i needed JJ. where the fuck was JJ.

jj's pov. "listen johnny," emily said, keeping her cool. i froze hearing her groans in pain. i'd heard them far too many times to know she was hurting. if she made noise, she was in unbearable pain and i needed to hold her. "the cops are already on their way. how this ends is up to you." "this only ends one way!" he shouted down the phone and i flinched. my baby sister. emily began explaining to johnny the situation and i felt so sick. suddenly, we pulled up outside. emily carried on talking, pretending not to know so he'd know. "shut up!" he screamed and i flinched everytime. "please, shut up!" he repeated. "what's going on johnny? talk to me," morgan said, getting into place. prentiss told me the plan and i nodded, quickly wiping my tears. "she ruined it!" johnny snarled. that's what dad used to say. "she always ruins it." "nothing is ruined. we can fix this okay?" rossi said and as we took our positions by the apartment. as soon as the trampoline was up, i shook like a leaf, clinging to emily- watching the window like a hawk. "how? how can we fix this?" i heard him say inside. then emily speak on the headset. "my grandmother always used to say, when a door closes, open a window..." she said. i hid my head in her shoulder. "you have to take a leap... of faith." just then, i saw her flash of blonde hair and voices raise. emily scrambled to the air bag as she scurried off it- taking my sister into her arms. "it's okay y/n." she said. "you're safe now." she then stepped aside and i took my baby sister into my arms. she clung to me the way she did when we were children. "i knew you'd understand," she cried into my shoulder. i only held her tighter, feeling relief and love and anger. my god. what a pizza delivery.

[glennrheesworld]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐬~

genre: angst pairing: Glenn Rhee x f!reader summary: Reader finds out about Andrea's death and Glenn comforts her. warnings: mention of death & crying

a/n: i decided to do a remake of this story but following the script for the exact episode of the show (3x16) please enjoy! 🫶🏽 please ignore the quality of the picture...

The sun was setting in the background, lines of trees covering the distance from the prison. Walkers wander and groan outside the fences surrounding the prison, a so-called home. The engine of Daryl’s bike could be heard from afar, catching the attention of those outside.

Rick had arrived back from Woodbury with the others, a bus covered with long boards of wood following them. As Maggie and Glenn open the gate, you watch from a few feet away as they drive in before coming to a halt.

The rest of the group comes out of the prison, seeing that Rick, along with the others had arrived.

Standing by Glenn, you watch Rick’s distant figure as he got out of the silver truck. You glance back at Glenn’s direction, “I’ll be back.” You tell Glenn as he nods in agreement, his eyes following you as you starting to walk toward Rick.

Carol and the others seem to take notice of the bus parked on the grounds of the prison. Rick just nods at Carol as if telling her it was okay.

Making your way to Rick, your brows furrowed in confusion, watching as multiple people begin to walk out of the bus.

“What is this?”

Carl asks his dad, clearly not liking what he was seeing. Rick looks him in the eyes, “They’re going to join us.” Carl looks back at the people, frowning at the sight before simply walking away from his dad.

“Rick,” You call his name out as you get closer to him. At your voice, he turns around to face you. Your eyes search his, inhaling a short shaky breath before speaking.

“Did you find Andrea?”

Rick goes still for a second, staring into your eyes before breaking away. He lets his gaze wander to the people behind you before letting out a sigh, “Yeah…”

A faint smile grows on your lips, feeling hope swell inside you. “Where is she?” You questioned, eyes searching the people around you two.

Turning his eyes back to you, he shakes his head slowly, replying in a gentle tone, “I’m sorry…” He trails off, wanting to explain to you as to what happened but not having the guts to hurt you more. Instead, he sighs, allowing his head to hang.

Your smile falls once his words hit you. Rick could see the effect it had on you, watching your brows softening and knitting together. Andrea was gone. Everyone knew how much she meant to you.

Both you and Andrea were close to each other, so she was always there for you when you needed her. And you were always there for her.

"W-what?"

Your heart aches and your eyes begin to gloss. You didn’t want to believe it. Andrea couldn’t be gone. Maybe Rick and the others had mistaken someone else for Andrea… At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Please,” you beg softly, blinking back burning tears, threatening to fall. Accepting that Andrea was dead was too much for you. You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from Rick, feeling as if you were suffocating.

Your heart was racing, you felt your bones shaking as you place a hand over your chest, feeling it rise and fall quickly. “No…” You sob out, attempting to steady your breathing.

There was nothing you could do to bring Andrea back, you needed to accept it, you had to. You had to survive and live through this. But it was too much.

Slowly shaking your head, you start to feel your hands tremble as it fully sinks in. No more late-night talks with Andrea or hearing her voice. You didn’t want to forget her voice or her face, you want to keep her alive in your memory but how can you? You know soon enough the memory of her will disappear and you’ll forget.

Some of the new people glance at you, filled with curiosity but mainly worried. Probably wondering why some girl was tearing up in front of the man who rescued them.

“Please, please, please…” you repeatedly mumble with quivering lips, wishing, hoping, praying Andrea would show up and tell you it was just some sick joke.

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, finally letting them spill.

From afar, Glenn's brows knit together in concern, watching the whole ordeal go down with Maggie. Seeing the tears falling down your face, he decides to quickly makes his way toward you and Rick.

“Why?”

You breathe out shakily, still crying your eyes out. Looking down at your trembling hands, you begin to feel lightheaded, everything around you suddenly becomes blurry.

Glenn rushes toward you, immediately taking notice of your state. As your knees begin to buckle, he embraces you tightly from behind, stopping you from falling.

You let yourself slowly lean onto him, turning to sob into his shoulder as he rubs your back in a soothing manner. He glances at Rick with a worried expression written all over his face.

Rick runs a hand down his short growing beard, clearly anxious. You clutch Glenn’s shirt, his shoulder getting wet with the hot tears rolling. Before Rick can say anything to try and help the situation, Glenn gives him an assuring look, signaling him it was fine.

Not a second later, Rick turns and leaves.

In an attempt to speak, you lift your tear-stained face to meet Glenn’s eyes, before breaking down and hiding your face. “I’m sorry,” You somehow managed to whimper out, hands holding onto Glenn’s strong arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out.” Glenn whispers softly and kisses the top of your head, reassuring you. His hand holds your trembling one, intertwining his fingers with yours to give you some sense of comfort. Letting you know that you weren’t alone in this.

He gives your hand a small gentle squeeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck while caressing you.

“I got you, so don’t hold back.” He whispers once more, his heart aching for you. He wishes he could do something to stop your cries, but he knows it’s better for you to cry your heart out.

[beaker1636]

Halloween Surprise - Chris Motionless

a/n: This one wound up a bit longer than anticipated... and definitely fit my fluff craving I have been having after all the smut you guys have requested. Unedited as I am pretty excited about it and also just lazy, not gonna lie. Thank you @thesazzb for somewhat suggesting this! Enjoy!

“y/n, I’m sorry I can’t go with you tonight, we go every year and I’m sorry,” Chris says as soon as you pick up his facetime request, looking really upset with himself while he laid in his bunk on the bus.

“Chris, I get it.  Part of being with you means that you sometimes miss things.  It is just my parents' anniversary party they throw every year, it’s not like you are missing our wedding or something,” you joke, hoping to lighten the mood and also to hide that you are disappointed that he had to miss it this year.

“Yeah, your parents’ Halloween anniversary party.  What goth gets lucky enough to have   in-laws who got married on Halloween? Of course I want to be there, we have gone the last  2 years that we have been together,” He jokes, which does crack a small smile on your face. “What are you dressing up as this year?”

“I.. I decided not to, we always wear matching costumes so it just doesn’t feel right to me to change that this year,” you trail off looking away from the camera hoping he didn’t notice your change in voice.

“I knew you’d say that, it’s not a costume but I hid a dress for you under the bed for tonight before I left.  I just knew you wouldn't want to dress up this year without me.  But I want you to steal my werewolf jacket to wear with it.  I know it’ll look cute and keep you warm… and you should send me photos of your outfit when you are done,” he says, a smile forming on his lips.

It heart melts seeing his smile and at the fact that even being on tour he somehow managed to surprise you and do something like this for you.

“Chris, you are too sweet to me, thank you…I miss you so much,” you can’t help but let a couple tears finally fall from your eyes.

You glance away to brush them off your cheeks hoping that he didn’t notice but he did.  It almost made him feel guilty for lying to you about tonight, but he knows that it will be worth it when you realize what is going on.

“Baby, don’t cry.  Only one more week and then I will be home for a couple months.  We all agreed that we want to take a little time off after this tour.  I miss you too, unfortunately leaving just gets harder each time,” that sad look returns on his face as he says that.

You hear Ricky tell Chris in the background that it is time for them to get ready.

“I’ve got to go, I love you so much.  Only one week to go,” he says before you say your goodbyes and hang up.

Brushing a few tears from your cheeks you make your way to your shared bedroom and look under the bed to find the box that you somehow have not noticed that Chris planted.  You are honestly shocked you haven’t found it quite yet. 

Pulling the dress out of the box and you smile, it is beautiful.  You love the lace detailing that is over the black bodice, showing off cleavage without it being all out there. It also stops just below your knees, the perfect length in your opinion.  It is simple, but really cute, and he is absolutely right that it will look cute with the red of his werewolf jacket.

You decide to do a quick curl in your hair, and then a very basic make up look.  Not in the mood to do much other than some eyeliner and mascara, especially when you remember that you don’t have anyone to impress this year.

You slip on a pair of your boots, and then step in front of your full length mirror so that you can take a photo for Chris.

He quickly responds to let you know how beautiful you look… and to make a joke about you sending him some photos without the dress on in his jacket which you choose not to respond to.

You decide to make the drive to your parents, figuring you can help them set up stuff for the party so that you can distract yourself from missing Chris.

Meanwhile

“Chris, it’s time to get ready,” Ricky yells across the bus, knowing that it will get Chris’ attention and also make it easier for Chris to end the video call with you.

The second Chris hangs up he is being drug off the bus and into your parents bar in the basement of their house, being met by your parents smiling at him.

“I picked up everything from the store that you asked me to pick up, it is all down here for you boys to get things ready.  I will try to warn you if she shows up early,” you mom says, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you, and thank you Mr. y/l/n, I promise that I won’t hurt your daughter,” Chris says, smiling at both of your parents. “She said she would send me a photo of her outfit so I will let you know when she does, as that will mean she's likely on her way.  Our driver is hiding the bus, so it's just going to be a matter of keeping her out of the basement, that you again for letting me do this today.”

“You’re welcome Chris, wait until I have her outside before you boys lay the candles out, just so you don’t risk her seeing them. I can’t wait to see the final product,” You mom says smiling. “Oh and this bathroom down here is all yours for you boys to get dressed and stuff,” she says smiling at the rest of them.

“Oh Chris,” you dad says, pulling his attention towards him. “I have no doubt that you won’t hurt her… we all know as stubborn as she is that if anything it is you I should be worried about,” he says with a smile.

“Ain’t that the damn truth,” Ryan says from behind Chris, earning a hit to the shoulder by Ricky, making everyone laugh.

“Okay, here's what I need everyone to do,” Chris says, quickly getting the boys to work setting everything up for you.

Back to You

You pull up to your parent’s house, getting out and just going in like you always do.  You smile when your father pulls you into a hug, your mom following.

“It is weird seeing you without Chris, he’s come to the last 2 with you,” your mom said, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“I know, it has been a bit of a rough day.  But at least we got some time to facetime, we can’t always get the chance every day.  Anyways, what can I help you do before everyone starts showing up?” you ask, looking away from your mom to avoid her sympathetic looks that you know will set you off again.

“Absolutely nothing, we are all set up.  Let’s go out back and have a drink while we wait,” your mother says, trying to urge you outside before you notice anything is up because she can hear the boys arguing about something down stairs.

“Mom, is someone here already? I thought I heard someone,” you ask, questioning her and also wondering why she is trying so hard to get you out of the house.  You decide to drop it when she gives you that mom look, the mom look that tells you not to push your luck.

A couple hours later you are on your third drink, relaxed but also sitting in a corner of your dads shop, where the party is now in full swing.  

Your sister has tried getting you to dance a couple times now but you have turned her down, not really in the partying mood.  You know it is selfish to bring the mood of your parents' celebration down but you are just having a rough time today, which makes your mood even worse thinking that you are ruining it for others.

Your four year old nephew winds up eventually plopping himself down in your lap, making you giggle.  

“Color with me aunt y/n,” he begs, giving you the puppy eyes that always get what he wants from you.

You pluck up a crayon from the box and start to color with him, quickly getting distracted by him, until he asks a question that breaks your heart.

“Why is uncle Cwris not out here too, I miss him,” he says softly, which makes you sad.  He is so little no matter how you try to explain it he won’t get it.

Your sister hears his question and rushes over to whisk him away, using the excuse that it is his bedtime, so you go back to watching people drink and have fun.  Wondering in your head why she seemed to be in such a hurry to pull little Austin away from you.  Honestly, you are tired of everyone acting weird around you.  You know that they are likely trying to avoid upsetting you by not mentioning Chris but it is really starting to upset you that they are all acting so strange.  

Sulking you don’t notice that anyone new has joined the party until you hear a very familiar voice. 

“Happy anniversary Mr. and Mrs y/l/n!” you hear Vinny yell out, making you look over at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression on his face.

You notice the smile on his face grow as you rush over, wondering why you suddenly see Vin, Ryan and Justin standing there with smiles on their faces as they pull you into hugs like they usually do when they greet you.

“Sorry to interrupt your party but we need to steal your little girl for a few minutes, I promise we will return her,” Justin says to your parents, laughing when Ryan starts to drag you out of the building while you protest and try to fight him.  

“Of course you aren’t going to make this easy,” Ryan grumbles as he tries to get you outside, annoyed that Vinny and Justin are laughing about it and not helping.

When he does get you outside you notice Ricky is there with his camera, a smile on his lips while he tries not to laugh at the fight you are putting up with Ryan.

“Hey y/n, update?” Ricky asks once Ryan lets go of you, and smiles at the clear irritation that is written on your face.

“The fucking 3 stooges over here have taken me hostage from my parents party and I am wondering where my boyfriend is,” you respond, annoyance clear in your voice as you roll your eyes at his question.

“I promise you are going to see him in a minute, come this way,” Vinny responds, rushing ahead of you to open the door to your parents house, clearly excited about whatever the hell is going on.

“What the fuck are you all up to? You’re all smiling like idiots and you have my family all acting nuts,” you ask as you walk up to the house, the boys all following behind you.

“Have you met us? Everything we do is fucking weird,” Justin says with a laugh as you step in the house.  

They all suddenly stop walking, looking over at you.

“We are supposed to send you down to the bar, and don’t ask questions because we are not going to answer them,” Ryan says, all the boys  letting you go ahead of them as you give them odd looks.

You make your way to the basement steps and falter, you see a path of candles with photos of you and Chris scattered along your path, the lights dimmed.  You stop to look at some of the photos and smile at the memories of some of your best times, and a couple of them you have never seen that someone must have taken where you are curled up together happily.

You reach the bottom of the steps and notice a path of rose petals, when you look up you see Chris at the end of it.  You don’t hesitate at all when you run towards him, letting him wrap his arms around you as you damn near tackle into him, both of you standing there in eachothers arms for a second.

You don’t notice everyone else who has come in behind you, you don’t notice anything other than the fact you are finally with Chris again after so long.

“Chris, W-what is all this?” you ask softly, stuttering as you look up at him and meet his eyes, but still not letting go of him.

He backs away from you slightly, a nervous look on his face and takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you remember how we first met?” he asks you, a smile forming on his face when you laugh at the memory.

“You were struggling to reach something on the top shelf at the grocery store.  I asked if you needed help and you said no, adamant that you didn’t need help from someone.  I watched you climb the shelves to get it yourself and you fell,” he says trying not to laugh at the story yourself.

You hear some laughter behind you but choose to ignore it, focused on the moment that is playing out in front of you.

“Yeah, you caught me and made a shitty joke about how I fell for you,” you say amused, remembering it but also wondering where he was going with this.

“We wound up walking around the grocery store talking for almost an hour, I am pretty sure the workers were about to kick us out for loitering.  Anyways, the truth is that it was me who fell for you that day.  All I could think about after that was seeing and talking to you again, and how happy I was when I realized you didn’t give me a fake phone number.  I knew when we left the store that day that you were going to be a part of my life in some way, and only a couple weeks later I knew that you would be the woman I would marry one day, even if you were and still are stubborn and won’t let me help you with shit.  You somehow deal with the fact that I am not home for at least half the year, that I can’t be more present in your life even though I know that it hurts you just as much as it hurts me to be away from you.  So I decided that in front of all your family and in front of our band family, that I have a very important question to ask you,” he says, getting down on one knee in front of you while pulling a ring out of his pocket.

“y/n, will you marry me?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Damnit, you made me cry,” you joke, wiping your eyes. “Yes Chris, yes.”

With happy tears in your eyes he stands back up to brush the tears from your cheeks, and then kisses you while your family and the guys all cheer behind you.

“You forgot the ring you idiot,” Vin yells across the crowd, making everyone laugh as Chris pulls away from the kiss to slip the ring on your finger.

“Why don’t we all give them a moment to themselves,” your mother suggests, knowing that you both need it.  She smiles when you mouth a thank you to her as everyone slowly makes their way out to the party again, leaving the two of you alone. 

“So does this make up for me missing most of the party? And to finish your surprise, I arranged with your boss that you have next week off work so that you can come with us while we finish the tour.  It didn’t feel right to have to leave you right away after asking you,” he says, his hands settling on your waist as he pulls you close to him.  

You took the hint and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you can kiss him again.  This time both of you hold it longer, pouring all of your emotions into it as you haven’t had the chance to yet.  When he pulls away you smile at him for a moment, happy to be with him again.

“Sooo are we stuck on the bus tonight or do we get some time to ourselves?” you question, hoping he gets the hint.

“We are on the bus but we all agreed that we are taking the back lounge so that we have more space to be together than trapped in a tiny bunk… if you can be quiet then we can do whatever you want to,” he responds with a wink which instantly makes you blush.

“Oh, are you okay if Ricky posts some of the footage in his update video, he recorded it for us but wanted to if you didn’t mind.  Ryan also took some photos during it so that we have the memories,” Chris asks as he looks at you.

“Uh yeah, we have to tell all your fans that I won and they officially lost their chances with you,” you sass to him, both of you slowly making your way outside.

“And there is my sassy brat, I was wondering when she would show back up.  Maybe I’ll have to put her in her place later,” he says, laughing when it makes you stop in your tracks.  “And by the way I was officially yours when you agreed to our first date, I knew then that we’d wind up married eventually.  Now let's go celebrate with everyone, we have an hour before we have to get back on the road.”

[brimarie0512]

New story alert!!!!

“Treat You Better” chapter one

WC: 2k (2,081)

Includes a female reader, use of y/n, nicknames, and pov switches

Warnings: none really but mentions of cheating (not skz member)

With that I hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

Chapter One “He Cheated”

Y/n’s pov

I couldn't believe he did this to me. I came home to the house I cleaned all day after buying groceries to cook dinner just to find my boyfriend… well now ex in our bed with his “girl best friend”. I always thought there was more to them but I trusted them HELL I trusted HIM. That was clearly a mistake because now I am sitting at the bus stop five blocks away from where he and I live. I had no idea where I was going but I knew I couldn't be in that house. How was I ever supposed to go back there now? How was I supposed to see him again? I can feel the warm stain of my tears across my cheeks but I can't bring myself to calm down or think straight right now. It feels like my whole world has been shattered. I did the only thing I could at this moment. I called my friend Felix. I listened to the line ring three times before he answered.

“Hey y/n, what's up my sunshine?” He said, sounding cheerful as ever and at this moment it made me sob harder. Which he obviously heard through the phone making him speak again. “Y/n what happened, are you okay, where are you?!?” He asked in a panic.

“Felix… I need you to come get me… Please.” I said between sobs with my voice dying out towards the end.

“Okay, I am on my way now, god I am so happy I have your location. I will be right there okay just stay where you are, I am leaving the dorm now.”

“Thank you Lix”.

“Of course, I am coming now. I will be right there.” Is all he said before he ended the call.

I could hear other voices on the line in the background before he ended the call but I couldn't focus on who it could be as I felt the cold autumn air. It was cold and stung where my wet tears were still wet on my cheeks. I pulled my feet up on the bench trying to bring my body heat to one place. Sure it wasn't freezing but it was cold and I was not dressed to be sitting on the cold bars of the metal bus stop bench. All I had on was my sweater dress but it was not warm it just had the illusion of a sweater. I sat on the bench like this with my head tucked into my legs for maybe eight minutes before Felix showed up. This surprised me because the dorm is a good fifteen minutes away but all of that worry melted away as soon as I saw him get out of the passenger side door and run over to me instantly bringing me into his arms. I suddenly heard another car door open and I lifted my head up enough to see Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin standing in front of me as well.

Felix’s pov

I Was sitting in my room at the dorm when I heard my phone ring. I picked it up and saw the photo of y/n that I used against her wishes but she just looked too cute. I answered it, greeting her how I always did. I suddenly heard sobs on the other end of the line causing me to panic. I immediately asked her what was wrong and where she was. She simply asked me to pick her up and I was off my bed in a second putting on shoes and a coat. I looked at her location as I ran out of my room. She was on a random street near her house but not too close. As I made it to the door the guys started asking me questions. I told y/n I would be right there and ended the call.

“Lix where are you going?” Seungmin asked from the couch.

“I don't know, y/n called me and asked me to pick her up. She was sobbing. I- I have to go.” I said tears filling my eyes.

“Wait, I'll drive, you can't drive like this no way.” Changbin said standing up and putting shoes on.

“I am coming too, no way i'm going to wait here.” Seungmin also said to get up.

Han, Hyunjin, and Lee Know who were in the living room as well all started yelling saying they wanted to come too. Everyone was being so loud I started to cry more just concerned for y/n. All of this commotion made Chan come out of his room.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Che asked, sounding stern and frustrated.

“It’s y/n, she called Felix crying and asked to be picked up.” Seungmin said from beside me.

“I told Lix I would drive him because he's too upset to drive but now everyone wants to come.” Changbin said next.

“Okay, here's what's gonna happen. Lix you're obviously coming, changbin will drive but Seungmin and I are going too since we don't know what happened. The rest of you stay here okay. Lee know make sure you keep them in check and don't let them freak out too much.” Chan said taking authority like he always did.

“Can we go now.. Please.” I said

“Yeah lets go, you have her location?” Chan asked me.

“Always, come on.”

We all literally ran out of the dorms and to Changbins car. I sat in the front with Changbin telling him where to go. He was speeding and dodging cars like he's in Fast And Furious. I honestly don't know how we did not get pulled over but I am so happy we didn't. As soon as we neared the bus stop I saw y/n on the bench folded in on herself. I told Chngbin to stop the car and I instantly ran out and went to hold her. I heard the other guys follow after but I was too busy holding her to see it.

Y/n’s pov

“Wh-why are all of you here?” I asked between broken sobs as Felix still held onto me.

“When we saw Lix leaving in a hurry we knew it was bad and when he said you were crying and not at your apartment there was no way we were going to sit at home just waiting.” Chan explained, still looking at me worriedly.

“Sweetheart what happened?” Felix asked as he loosened his grip on me.

“He cheated… I went home after shopping and his best friend was there with him.” I said sheepishly.

The guys never liked my boy- nope my ex so now they will really hate him.

“I should have listened to you guys. I am an idiot. ho- how-” I started.

“Shhh you're not an idiot. He is okay, you're perfect.” Felix said, rubbing at my back trying to comfort me.

“I swear I am going to murder him.” Changbin said from the side.

“BIn no I-” I once again tried to speak.

“Okay that's enough, not now okay she's already upset enough don't make it worse hyung.” Seungmin said, pushing Chanbin back towards the car where they continued to talk in hushed voices.

Seungmin’s pov

As soon as Changbin opened his mouth I knew it was going to be bad. He never liked y/n’s ex. Well to be fair none of us did but he was always very vocal about it. I instantly stepped in and pushed him towards the car because this was not going to help y/n. Once we were by the car I felt like we could talk freely.

“Listen I know we don't like him but you need to keep it together in front of y/n she's already going through enough this second.” I said frustrated at the situation as a whole.

“I know but he is a piece of shit and she deserves better how the fuck did he let her go and worse how could he cheat on her.” Changbin said also frustrated.

“I know okay, I am mad too, hell I want to go to her place right now and throw him out but that is not going to help her. The only thing we can do right now is be there for her and make sure she still feels loved.” I said.

“Yeah, I know you're right, it's just stupid. I seriously think that guy is brain dead like who the fuck does he think he is.” Changbin said, still fuming.

“Yeah, we can talk about all of that later okay? Right now our main priority is her.” I said, trying to calm him down.

“Okay, yeah you're right.” He said before the others started walking over to us.

Y/n’s pov

Felix and Chan sat with me until I was able to calm down and stop crying for the moment.

“Y/n…. What do you want to do?” Felix asked from beside me.

“I have no idea. I can't go back there. I don't want to see him, I don't even want to see that place ever again.” I said trying not to imagine the clothes I saw all over the house when I walked in.

“Come on, you can stay with us for now until we figure something out.” Chan said, starting to stand.

“Chan no I can't you guys have enough going on.” I said starting to feel bad about the mess I caused.

“Y/n you don't want to go back and you don't have to, especially not tonight. We all love you and we are not leaving you to deal with this on your own. So come on, we are going to the dorm.” Chan said, taking my hands to lead me to the car.

I stood with the pull from Chan and Felix followed after. Changbin and Seungmin sat in the front as Chan and Felix climbed in the back letting me have a seat by the window. Felix held onto my hand as the car started. I have always liked the window seat ever since I met Felix. I stared out of the window on the drive to the dorm thinking about how I met these guys. Felix and I met in middle school back in Australia when we were assigned to the same seat on the bus. I remember asking him if I could sit by the window and he happily let me. We would talk on the ride to school and back home and even had some classes together. We ended up growing close and going to the same high school as well. Felix had never been one to drive so I would pick him up when I got my car. I remember his high voice as a kid compared to his very deep one now. I remember him telling me he was moving to Korea to be a part of a kpop group. We cried for hours the day he left but we kept talking and the next year when I graduated I moved to Korea to be with him. I spent so much time working and saving up money so I could move here. Once I arrived Felix helped me with everything. He helped me learn the language and helped me find a job at a local cafe while I went to school to become a photographer. He was always there and once he found his group and debuted he introduced them to me. Chan and I instantly connected like he and Felix did because we all came from Australia. I got invited to more group activities and soon these guys were my life. I did everything with them. We would party and celebrate together. I would help them when they were stressed on a song. We had crazy nights together with drunk confessions and actions but they were always there. Even now taking me in after eight months of low contact. When I started dating my now ex he was sweet at first but slowly he made me isolate myself saying he didn't trust the guys to respect our relationship. And I listened because I wanted love but in the end he didn't respect our relationship. While lost in my thoughts we arrived at the dorms. Felix gently put a hand on my shoulder snapping me out of my thoughts and led me out of the car and inside.

Taglist: @strawberry31 @ihrtlix @minnieprincess85

If your name is in bold it means I can not tag you

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has It's Thorns - Part Seven

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc (Talia)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. Not that it is any easier for the soulmate in question. Thus is the fate for Ricky and Talia. Sooner or later, however, life is bound to collide, but what will happen when it does?

author’s note: Same bat time, same bat channel, UNBETAED, you have been warned.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34

Please ask if you'd like to be tagged, to this story or in general.

~~

Talia woke to her phone ringing bright and early the next morning, sitting up, she grabbed for her phone, and oh shit, she’d turned off her alarm yesterday to wake her early to get ready for work, and with the way she’d been last night she’d forgotten to reset it. The call had woken her just in time.. But the call.. Fuck, it was Ava.

She’d said she’d call this afternoon!

And she wanted to fucking video call, of course she wanted to video call, this was Ava, why would she want to do anything else. Climbing out of bed quickly, she ran her finger through her hair  as fast as she could to pretend she hadn’t still been sleeping and rushed on her way to the kitchen while trying to stifle a yawn as she accepted the call.

“Ava, what the fuck, bit early for calling after work isn’t it?”

Her best friend and usual roommate’s bright smiling face greeted her on the screen of her phone as she walk down the hall while she tried to tame her hair a bit more, the audio sound of her laughter ringing through her head as she stepped into the kitchen in search for breakfast. Just cereal since she was awake late and Ava had insisted on calling this early.

“Are you only just now waking up, man, you look like a mess girl, what were you doing last night?”

Fuck, how bad did she look? Talia glanced at herself in the glass reflection of the stovetop and shit, she looked like utter trash, her hair looked manageable, but her eyes, and her skin, and she just looked

She looked like she’d done exactly what she’d done last night. Sobbed and screamed into her pillow, crying until she passed out to sleep. She hadn’t even bothered to eat, so naturally she was starving.

Swallowing as she pulled some milk out of the fridge, and then a box of cereal out of the cupboard, bowl was next,

“I was up late, so sue me, okay?”

Talia was beyond thankful when another voice joined the conversation from the background of the phone call, one of the guys from the band, somewhere on the bus she could guess, not on the screen but he could obviously hear the call,

“YEA, Party Time! Talia partying up now that her pesky roommate is finally out of town huh? Whooo!” “Oh shut UP, Ryan!”

Talia swallowed, trying to pretend that hearing Rick shut Ryan down didn’t make her wonder how much he was paying attention to the video call himself. Why couldn’t that man just leave her alone now, she needed him to leave her alone. As much as she had wanted to meet him all those years ago, and dreamed about it, but now it just hurt. He just hurt. Besides, if he didn’t get his attitude in check, he was going to piss off his bandmates, and then where would he be. She knew he was going through some shit, bit he still had to live in that bus with them for the next two weeks.

Shaking her head,

“Anyway, I’m good Ava, I swear, how was your first night, and really, calling this early?”

“Well it's a good thing I did if you're just getting up! Besides, the guys said they’ll probably be sound checking this afternoon and I wasn’t sure whats going to be happening, so I didn’t want to risk getting in the way till I figure out what time is good.. And we promised a call every day!”

Talia sighed..

“Doesn’t have to be with me.. Could be with Jordan, or Kyle, you have other friends too ya know, they’d love to hear from you!”

Grinning to Ava over the screen as she pours her cereal into the bowl one handed and spills some onto the counter, swearing a little under her breath,

“What, what, are you okay?”

“Yea yea, just spilled my cereal, I’m okay, don’t panic, easy clean up.. Just morning munchies.”

Setting the box down on the counter, she looked at the phone as she watched Ava sip at a mug of what she assumed was coffee, smiling slightly at the words on it, Charlie Uniform November Tango.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to your breakfast, talk to you later babe, byyeeeee.”

Ava watched as Talia pushed a smile on her face before the screen went blank as she ended the call. Ricky looked across the way as he was conveniently making himself a coffee at the machine while she was sitting and placing her video call to Talia, or not so conveniently as the case may be. He didn’t care what anyone thought, he just wanted his damn morning coffee, he’d barely been able to sleep all night, not when all he could think about was.. He didn’t want to talk about it.. He didn’t want to talk about any of it, even if Chris suggested that he should.

Looking up from the machine, he frowned at the sight of Ava staring at her phone dejectedly for a moment, something was wrong, and he couldn’t help but remember how Talia had pretty much threatened him about how he treated Ava.. should he ask her if she was okay. Of course, as he was contemplating it, Vinny was coming over to sit by Ava and he stayed back and Rick glanced away as Vin asked her what was wrong.

“She lied, I’m not even gone a whole day and she’s already hiding things.. She’s like a sister, she’s my best friend, closer to me than anyone in the world, and.. I just.. I’m scared that this is just going to change too much between us now.”

Rick looked down at the coffee machine, trying to focus on making his coffee, and not on the conversation between the other pair, and especially not on the woman that was on the town behind them. Talia was plaguing his mind and he hated it, he hated that she wouldn’t get out of his head because the moment she had walked into his life she’d destroyed everything, and he wished she was just, gone already.

He knew she was never going to be, not with Ava here, and Vin was so happy, shit. He was just going to have to figure out how to deal with her, he guessed.

~~

Going to work was easy, focusing on work gave her something else to think about. She supposed that delving into her art was always something she’d done when she couldn’t handle reality, it was her coping mechanism. Sure in this case it wasn’t a means of expressing how she felt in the forms of art work, putting pencil to paper, but tattooing still gave her something else to focus on but the troubles she had out in the world. There was also talking to her clients, chatting away about their lives, or just about simple things like what latest movies they’d seen, what music… yea maybe not that question, not any time soon anyway. It potentially opened the door of dangerous thoughts.

When her lunch break came by she went down the road to grab something to eat considering her morning had led to not having anything prepped for lunch, so grabbing something from the cafe it was.

“Shit, what the fuck happened to you. Ava wasn’t lying.”

“Oh fuck off Jordan, I’m fine!”

Jordan behind the register and had just finished with a customer when she walked in through the door, the place was pretty quiet, and they all knew her anyway, to having him talk to her like that was no surprise, the other girl behind the counter giggled a little at the exchange. She was a regular.

She should have known Ava would have immediately gotten word to Jordan and Kyle, tattle tale about her not being great, whatever she’d told them, probably made it sounded so much worse than it really was.. Or exactly as bad as she had tried to hide from her. Hell, it wasn’t even like Jordan could see the sleepless shadows under her eyes, and they weren’t remotely red from crying anymore, she was fine. She looked fine.

Walking up to the counter, and he just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, judging her without a word,

“I’m fine. My usual and a turkey and everything wrap please.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, she huffed, it was obvious that he didn’t believe her for a moment, but still, he rang up her order just the same at the counter for her and gave her the number for her to wait. However, when he had finished her drink and getting her wrap ready, instead of calling her name, he brought it over to her table and moved to sit at her table across from her.

“Alright, here’s the thing. Fuck, Richard Olson. Yea, I remember his name.”

Rolling her eyes as she reached for her coffee, she knew Jordan knew his name despite not liking the band's music, even if it was an ongoing joke that he never wanted to pay attention and remember the name.

“Oh come on Jordan, you don’t know, you’ll never know what he’s going through, you have Kyle, and Kyle loves you more than fucking life. Now find out that years later, he’s been lying to you about your entire relationship. He’s allowed to be upset, he’s allowed to be fucking angry about what she’s done to him.”

Looking down at her wrap, taking in a deep breath, a deep shuddering breath trying not to break down crying again as she thought about Ricky, she’d avoided thinking about him all morning since arriving at work. About him, and those piercing blue eyes, so angry, at her, and it hurt so bad.

“So? None of that tells me shit. None of that tells me you can’t be angry to T. You were right there, you were this close to finally meeting him, and she snatched your chance from you. Yes, he can be angry, but so can you, you can be angry, you can be grieving, you can be feeling things too. You don’t have to be fine.”

Her eyes lifted from her plate as Jordan spoke, taking in his words, the problem was, she didn’t want to feel these things, she didn’t want any of it. Pushing it away was the only way she could handle it. Trying not to feel it was all she could do, not that it was helping, case and point last night. This morning had gone better though, and she was determined to continue for as long as she could.

“I made my choice, and despite what Chris said about Rick not having the facts before, he’s made his. He wants nothing to do with soulmates now, and I honestly don’t blame him. Not for wanting nothing to do with them, and, and not believing me.”

Swallowing,

“How do you know he doesn’t believe you?”

She really didn’t want to talk about it, but remembered that Jordan and Kyle hadn’t been caught up on everything that had happened at breakfast yesterday.

“He said so outright at breakfast yesterday, he believed Ava’s tattoo, but mine is just a normal tattoo.. Probably thinks I faked it when I was eighteen and then got a real tattoo to keep the ruse going over the years. I mean I said as much to Grace.. Foolish me for opening my mouth huh? He’d never going to believe me now. Not that it matters. He hates me anyway.”

She shrugged,

“Either way, I might have also threatened him.. A little.”

That drew a chuckle out of Jordan,

“Oh, really, why?”

"He was being an asshole, and if Ava was going on tour with them, I was not going to have him treat her like shit, he can treat me like trash all he wants-”

“Like fuck he can-”

“But I swear to god if he hurts her I will make sure his next girlfriend will be extremely disappointed.”

Cause it wasn’t going to be her after all, so why should she care.

“You know what, I don’t care that he’s famous, any of those guys hurt our girl, we’ll break em.. Fuck em.. Yes, Ava is our family, but Talia, don’t forget though, same goes for you.”

[sofasoap]

Fate, brought us together again.

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary: Few weeks after Interlude: Here comes the insertion specialist. Reunite with König, again, under very undesirable circumstances. Inspired by the piccadilly circus mission.

Warning: Mature theme, sexual theme. TRIGGER WARNING: gun violence,blood and gore and death.  English isn’t my first language.

A/N : Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background.

 “masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Smoke, Ashes, Sirens sound everywhere. Dazed and confused, you slowly got up from the ground. You hear people screaming, sound of gunshots being fired. Alerted, you quickly got up and ran towards the nearest obstacle for cover, that's when you notice two little kids sobbing and shaking a body of a woman lying unconscious. Looking left and right, you dash towards them.

You quickly check for any vital signs of the woman, luckily you can feel a faint pulse, and shallow breathing sound. You let out a sigh of relief. Better not move her at all until the EMS arrives. You took off the jacket and lay it on the woman, keeping her warm.

Turning your attention the two children, you ask, "Shh.. shh.. it's ok darling. Is this your mummy?" They nodded. "Are you two hurt?" One of them shook their head, the other replied you with trembling voice, " My arm hurts..", and you notice the child's arm was bleeding from a big gush. Digging through your bag, you found the little wooden teddy bear König had gave you. Passing to the injured child, you ask them to hold it, trying to distract their attention while you try to bandage them up as best you can. As you carefully wipe the gush wound with the alcohol wipe you had in your bag, the child flinches a little, biting their lower lip a little trying very hard not to cry again.

" Good job.. I am sorry it's stings... it's killing all the bad germs so you can heal better." The child nods. Suddenly another loud bang startled three of you. More gunshot sounds, you can hear it's coming closer and closer. Quickly shielding the two children behind you, you saw someone with Ak-47 approaching from behind the turned over bus few meters away. You immediately grab the two children and run towards the wall, but it was too late, the gunner spotted you and shot you right in the leg. Falling onto the ground, you let out a cry of agony. From the corner of eyes, you see the gunman walking towards you, shouting in a language you don't understand. Raising his gun, the two children tremble in fear, you turn around and use yourself as a body shield, waiting for the bullet to hit you. But the death never came. Unknown to the gunman, a figure appeared behind him, grabbing his head and slashing his throat in one fluid motion. Turning your head, you see a tall hooded figure, with piercing feral eye staring at you. You gasped. König.

König wish he could fly back to Austria, back to his Opa and Oma's cottage , high up in the mountain, and never be seen again. He had no idea what happened later that night at the pub. The last thing he remember was Horangi jabbing him with his elbow, teasing him about the girl he is waving to across the room. He took a sip of the coke after that, which had a odd sweet taste to it, and as if someone switch off the tv, everything just blackout afterwards. It's not until the next day, when he woke up with huge headache, he crawled out from the SAS's guest quarter, dragging himself towards the mess hall in search for water and breakfast. He was met with looks walking down the corridor. König is familiar with people giving him " the look " throughout his life due to his massive stature, but this feels different. Some of the women ( and even some of the men too ) was eyeing him up and down with admiration or even.... suggestive looks??? Doing his best to ignore them, he enter the mess hall and walk towards the buffet Picking up water and coffee, and bit of scramble egg ( he think that is all he can stomach at moment with this dreadful hangover ), he saw Horangi waving him over to sit by the corner table. "Hey big boy, how you feeling?" ".. I need some pain killers. Huge headache." Is all he manage to squeeze out. " Well, I apologise for that. I forgot you don't drink alcohol at all...but! You have now few admirers in this camp!" König shot Horangi a look, " I shouldn't have ask you to get the drink for me... What did I do? what do you mean I got admirers?" Pulling his mask down a little, he started sipping coffee slowly. The warm beverage eases bit of the queasiness in his stomach. " You mean you don't remember?" " No. I told you before I can't take any alcohol at all. It makes me black out." " OHhhh.. So remember the girl you were waving to earlier that night? You made a move on her. " König eyes was bulging out." you were suggesting to her you were very good at ramming people with your .. um.. greatest asset." König spit his coffee out. Suddenly he heard plates slammed on the table. He can see Ghost and Soap looking at his way from two table down. If their eyes are weapon, they are currently shooting him with death rays. The kept their eyes on him while stabbing into sausage with full force, rattling the table. König never finish his meal so fast in his life. You kept texting him, as if nothing had happened. Guessing its a good thing? You are still willing to talk to him despite the embarrassing incident. But he just couldn't bring himself to reply. Not until few weeks later, Kortac headquarter received news on possible terrorist threat in London and then SAS and MI6 has requested assistance. He thought it's a good chance for him to see you face to face, and apologise for what he did. He never realise he will meet you again amongst the chaos and death.

When they arrive on scene Piccadilly Circus, the terrorists had already started their rampage. The team split up in twos and goes around trying to clear out any threats while the SAS team and police continue to scout around for other possible explosives that hasn't been set off. He heard a gunshot, coming from behind the turned over bus, an anguish cry of a woman, follow by someone yelling in some foreign languages. He signed to Horangi, motion him to hold his position. He slowly approach towards the sound of the gunshot, trying not to be discovered, he saw men raising his AK-47 aiming towards a woman that is doing her best shielding two small children in her arm.

Split second he made the decision of unsheathe his knife, dash towards the gunman, pulling his neck back and cut his throat in one swift motion. The gunman dropped onto the floor, blood spraying out and eye turned upward. Turning his attention to the three trembling figure, the woman turned her head and look up to him, eyes wide with recognition. "... K... König ??? " It was you. He forgot you never seen him with his full sniper hood on before. Horangi appeared from the other side, nodding to him, standing guard. Wiping his knife before sheathing it back into the pouch, König slowly approaches you and kneeled down.

" It's me Liebling, are you Ok?" You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. " he shot me in the calf.. I can't walk." König nodded. " Requesting for medical assistant here ASAP. Three civilians require assistance." " Thank you for saving us.. " small smile appeared on your face. " For the second time.. " König shook his head. " Don't mention it." he look at the two children, who is looking at him with apprehension. He tenses up. The children reminds him of the Urzik hostages, who was unwilling to listen to him due to his appearance. You nudge the younger children, " It's Ok, he is the good guy." Pointing to the wooden teddy bear they still hold in their hand, " He made that teddy bear, for me." The kid open his eye wide with amazement. How can someone so big made something so small??? " The Medics should be coming soon." You can see few people rushing towards your direction with stretcher and medical supplies. "You should be safe now, these people will get you to safety and get you treated." He was about to stand, you grabbed his arm.

" Wait!" He look down at you, eyes full of question. " Am I going to see you later?" "... I will come and find you." His eyes soften a little, before turning his attention elsewhere again, back into full soldier mode.

He later found you amongst the heap of ambulances and injured, you were sitting on a stretcher, with the two children who he saw before with you on the other stretcher and with woman lying there. You were talking to the children, trying to distract them. " Mini." he called out to you. You turned your visibly pale face towards him. Despite the tiredness you shot him a beaming smile. " König!" He stride forward and stood by your side. " You ok?" You enquired.

Nodding his head, he look at your leg. " They will have to get me to the hospital soon to retrieve the bullet. But in the meantime, I will survive. At least my pain has lessened with the drug they are giving me. " You sighed.

He tentatively reach his gloved hand towards your face, cupping it gently. You close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"I was so scared. I thought that was the end. I kept thinking in my mind , I had to protect those innocent kids." You chuckled bitterly. " You know what flash through my mind the last second? Oh I had to apologise to König that I gave his little teddy bear away.." "Don't worry about it Liebling.. I'll make you another one." He was proud of you but same time his heart ached, what if he didn't spot the gunman sooner? What if he didn't reach you in time? The thought drove him to darker places.

" You keep calling me Liebling. what does it mean? " " ... It.. It.. It means.. It means darling...." König look down onto the floor and stammered. You open your eyes again, face red. Reach up with both of your hand, pull him down slightly by his sniper hood. Forehead bumping together, you look him into his eyes. Oh god, how much you love looking at his blue eyes, behind his piercing look, you can see a soft man in it, waiting to be hugged, to be loved. "Well, Liebling." He love the sound of you speaking his language. "Do you want to take me out for dinner? A proper date?" You can see his eyes open bit wider. You place a kiss on his cheek through the hood, and whispered into his ear : " And MAYBE you can show me later how good you are at... RAMMING into people. My big teddy bear."

[eileenslibrary]

Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Part One: The Trial

Warnings: Murder, Trial, Death, Heartbreak, Backstabbing

Rain splatters down upon the aqua bus, the cold dreary day soaking into your bones your jacket doing nothing to warm you up, you watch as the cold and lonely plains of Fontaine rush by as the sun shines behind the thick clouds, you think mindlessly as time ticks by like the rain your eyes red from tears your mind in shambles you barely wake up when the melusine announces it's time for you to deboard. You sit for a moment, taking a breath and checking your vision before you get off the bus. The hydro element jingles from the small wind chime you attached to it when you were young the once responsible and noble person gone now replaced by anger and hurt, your heart races as you slowly get closer to the opera house you can hear bells going off in the back of your mind. You stop in front of the fountain grab a coin and flick it into the water ‘Please bring me luck today’ you wish in your mind looking up at the opera house, the water fountains are off today, and it seems that the world weeps for you as well, you breathe in deeply one more time and finally walk into the halls, “Excuse me?” a pink melusine with a short blonde bob babbles pulling on your pant leg to get your attention, you look down “You’re the sibling of the accused right?” she inquires “Yes I am” You sigh “Follow me then, Iudex Nuevillette and Defendant Dominique is waiting for you” you follow her as she leads you to the wing across from your brother, your attorney already standing there, she gives you a pitying smile as you stand beside her “Now that both parties are present, I now declare that the trial of Dominique Vincent is now in session” Nuevillette’s voice echoes throughout the silent auditorium, “In order for the audience to understand the full case may I have some one go over the crime and what had occured on april 19th at 9:24 PM” he says his lavender eyes flitting between the both of you “I shall explain monsieur Nuevillette” Your attorney speaks when you both see your brother go to open his mouth, “On april 19th at 9:24 PM A murder occured, Mr. Dominique shot sir Dumas unwarranted. Mx. Vincent and Dumas were walking from Hotel Debord when Dominique was there waiting for them to come outside he then pulled out a gun and shot Dumas in the chest” she replies. 

You think back to the moment, After a wonderful dinner you and Claude walked out of the Hotel Debord you hadn’t even made it ten steps when a gunshot rang through the air you looked up to see your brother in bloody clothes with a gun in his hand and a manic grin, your eyes widen as you hear your fiance choke, you look over and see his hand on his chest blood spills between his fingers. You catch him as he begins to fall lowering him to the ground adrenaline pumps through your veins, and screams echo in the background “Claude, stay with me, stay with me, please” you cry trying to stop the bleeding one of his bloodied hands grabs onto your arms “(Name) I love you, and whatever you do keep this safe” Claude says slipping a ring into your breast pocket “Claude you can’t leave, Please I need you!” you scream as you watch his eyes land on you as he smiles at you one last time before his eyes dull. You feel a garde grab your shoulders pulling you away from your fiance the sound of another gunshot going off is ringing throughout your ears before the garde yells orders and your brother is thrown in cuffs and dragged away. 

Tears slip out of your eyes as you stare at Dominique your hand slipping to the ring on the chain that hung around your neck “Thank you, in that case, I take your statement to be that You and Claude were at Hotel Debord after eating Dinner, and when you left your brother shot Claude Dumas. Is this correct?”  He inquires “Yes your honor,” you say. 

Dominique's lawyer speaks up “I have rather unfortunate news” he sighs dramatically “I have full proof that it was not Dominique in the wrong, and I declare that it was Dumas who had started it all” he pulls out a file from his briefcase. “On April 19th at 9:24 PM, the accused was walking down with his dear friend Lucia that evening. She had requested he accompany her on a night walk. When he got into a tussle with a thief. He had disarmed the man and demanded answers, The man said it was Claude, and fueled by rage to have this man anywhere near his sibling in harm's way he made some rather rash decisions” he taunts smirking back at you “And how do you have proof of this quote bandit” your lawyer challenges crossing her arms as she glares over her horned glasses, her red lips pulled up into a smirk “We have eyewitnesses you see” he responds quickly.

                “Miss Ruby, Sir La’Cron, and Lady Sirene were all present” he slyly admits pointing to four figures, One in a rose pink dress Madame Lucia, one in a red gown Miss Ruby, one in a blue waistcoat with black trousers Sir La’Cron, and a woman in orange Lady Sirene. Madame Lucia is as sickly sweet as a pickle, Miss Ruby is as vicious as a viper, Sir La’Cron as slimy is as a slug, and Lady Sirene is as conniving as the devil. You tried to steer your brother from these horrible people but he refused to listen to reason. You turn your face away, you know the moment they were revealed you would lose, they were some of the most corrupt nobility in Fontaine and would use their power to turn the tides and flip your unsteady boat painting you and Claude as the villains. You knew he did it, he held a disdain for your fiance. After all, he only wanted you to be just like him. Power hungry, that's the only way you could be even acknowledged. He wasn’t like this once, he was a curious lad with a heart for literature but he met awful people and ever since your mother left for another man, and your father went missing you only had each other. You took most of the responsibility despite being the youngest balancing your family name atop your head like a stack of books. But once you met Claude his heart was soft as feathers on a breezy summer evening ready to hold you tight in his arms, your life lightened your noble duties seemed weightless when he was yours, but now he’s gone and it was you who has to bare the name and pain in a thorny game of janga.

You look back up at your brother a cocky smirk on his face he mouths ‘I told you so’ A fire lights in your heart you barely grip onto yourself from summoning your claymore and beating the hell out of him. Your heart strains against your ribs your lawyer watches you with sad eyes “Mx. Vincent I’m sorry” she whispers “Don’t, save your words” you interject “He won’t be free for long” You look towards Nuevillette “May I request we postpone this until Claude’s parents arrive?” you ask your eyes hardening at him, his lilac eyes hold yours as if testing your sanity, he opens his mouth when an audience member shouts “Just get the verdict out already” Nuevillette sighs looking at the audience everyone seems restless and eager chatter filling the audience. “I shall postpone this so Claude’s parents may have a say in this. And so both parties have time to prepare” He sighs. The audience boos and complains as if this were a mere play as if people's lives and honor weren’t on the line. You can understand them, you never expect tragedy to hit you until it does. And it’s a train that will drag you along the tracks for miles. You stand and walk out of the stuffy auditorium your heart pounding in your chest as if a caged beast only calming Nuevillettte approaches you “If you need help, go visit the duke. He will help bring this to light.” he whispers in your ear brushing your shoulder in a gentle way before walking out of the building you stop your body frozen. You knew who he was speaking of everyone does. For there was only one duke Nuevillette really associated with and even that was fleeting. Monsieur Wriothesley the duke of Fortress Meropide. You breathe in and continue on out of the court house "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try" you hum. 'My mind is already made up, tomorrow I will get a permit and visit the Fortress of Meropide'

[sleekervae]

So Good [0.6]

Masterlist

pairing: KNJ x rockstar!oc

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry I've been away for a while. School is bogging me down and life had been wild, in both good and bad ways. I want to continue writing and despite my chronic writers' block, I ain't giving up too easily. Thank you all for your patience and trust that I will be updating more stories as I go!

word count: 2016

Purple text is Korean

Kimberly jumped when her phone suddenly rang beside her, disturbing the small nap she was trying to squeeze in her bunk. She grumbled as she turned over in the small enclosure, feeling around in the sheet while being rocked over and over in the tour bus.

"Kimberly! Your phone's ringing!" Maria suddenly shouted.

Kimberly rolled her eyes, "Gee! Thanks Maria!" finally she was able to fish it out, her heart leapt when Namjoon's name flashed across her screen. It would've been close to midnight in Seoul, and he hardly ever called her this late.

Pulling her bunk curtain tighter to its hook, she answered the call, "Hello?"

A voice cleared from the other end, unfamiliar to her, "H-Hey, Kimberly! How are you?" the voice was slurred, too light to be Namjoon but the twinge of his accent was slightly eerie.

"Um... who is this?" she asked, a pit of anxiousness bubbling in her gut. From what Chloe had told her, Korean idols had their contacts guarded mercilessly, and if Namjoon got in trouble for talking to her...

"Eh? It's Namjoon, what're you talking about?" the voice tittered, a faint song playing in the background. She relaxed only a little, her curiosity growing.

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"... what tattoo do I have on my left forearm?" she asked.

The voice paused momentarily, grumbling to himself for a quick answer when she suddenly heard a more familiar exclamation.

" -- Dangsin-eun mwo haeyo? Nae jeonhwagileul jwo!"

The voice on the speaker suddenly changed in pitch, half-laughing-half-crying as he shouted, "Joesonghabnida! Joesonghabnida! Dowajuseyo!" and a scuffle ensued.

Kimberly was partly amused, partly concerned, waiting curiously until she heard Namjoon panting into the speaker, "I saekkiya! -- Kimberly? Kim?"

"H-Hi! Namjoon?"

"Hi," he panted, giving a short sigh, "I am so sorry about that,"

"No, no, that's okay," she chuckled, "Are you okay?"

"I'm good, I'm good. My friend's being an idiot," he replied. Kimberly could still hear laughter in the background, she found his startle quite endearing.

"It's okay, I promise," she replied, "Who was that, anyway?"

"Jackson. He's a friend of mine -- if not more of a shit disturber," he replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Kimberly!" he called out. Namjoon grumbled back in Korean, a cuss word she figured.

She laughed merrily, "Aw, tell him I say 'hi',"

"And boost his ego even more? Nah," he simpered back, "I hope we didn't disrupt anything,"

"You're all good," she assured him, "We're on our way to Krakow right now so we have an off day,"

"Oh, fantastic. Are you resting up?"

"As much as I can in a moving casket," her attention diverted to a furious hissing from the common area.

"Shit! I need help!" Chloe suddenly shouted, followed by the pattering of socked feet.

"Fucking shit, Chlo! We agreed not to heat up Alfredo sauce in the microwave!" Charlotte scolded.

Namjoon laughed, hearing the commotion from the end of his speaker, "Everything okay over there?" he asked.

Kimberly sighed heavily, shaking her head, "Oh, everything's fine. If I'm quiet enough they may believe I've gone back to sleep and won't bother me," she chuckled quietly.

Maria called from outside the bunk, "You know we can hear you, Kim!" she scolded, "... Hi Namjoon!"

"Hi Namjoon!" Charlotte echoed a moment later.

"Hi RM!" shouted Chloe.

Kimberly tittered, "The girls say 'hi',"

"Tell 'em I say 'hi' back -- what?" his voice drifted off, "Of course she is! Yeogiseo naga!" and there was another short scuffle over the speaker.

"What is going on over there?" Kimberly asked, her curiosity peeking, just imagining what bafoonery was taking place in Seoul.

Namjoon sighed, clearly dejected as muffled sniggers slipped out beside him, "Jackson wants to know if you're pretty. I'm so sorry,"

Kimberly had to press her lips to keep herself from laughing, her cheeks burning with the red smile curling across her face. She choked back a giggle as she answered, "I mean -- I think I am," she shrugged bashfully.

"Then what the hell are you doing with a guy like Namjoon?" Jackson suddenly called, laughing then as Kimberly could imagine the glare Namjoon was throwing his way.

"Ib damul-eo," Namjoon grumbled.

"Dangsin-eun nae sangsaga aniya," Jackson scolded back.

Meanwhile out in the common area, Charlotte and Chloe couldn't help but overhear Kimberly's conversation, all the while Charlotte was mopping up sauce on the counter and Chloe was cleaning sauce off of the floor.

"I think she talks to him more than talks to any of us," Chloe noted.

Charlotte simpered, "They talk maybe once or twice a week, Chloe,"

"Over voice, at least," Chloe replied, "... You think Darius knows that they talk that much?"

"I'm not even gonna go there," Charlotte replied, hoping that Kimberly couldn't hear them, "I told her to be careful from the get,"

Chloe shrugged back, "I'm just saying -- if Luke was away and you found out he was talking to a super famous pop star a few times a week, wouldn't you be worried?"

Charlotte held pause, staring down at the greasy countertop as Chloe's words sent a shiver through her. She knew exactly how she would feel if she was in a similar situation. Nevertheless, she turned back to Chloe, mustering as much confidence as she could.

"As far as I know, Kim's not doing anything wrong -- so I'm not gonna' lambast her for what we think could be happening,"

Chloe knew Charlotte didn't like confrontation, she never had and was extremely uncomfortable if she had to confront one of their friends. But Chloe wasn't stupid either; she was fearful that Kimberly was falling down a hole she nor the girls couldn't dig her out from.

Kimberly meanwhile was none the wiser to her friends' conversation, "What're you guys doing?"

"We're just sitting around, having a couple beers," he replied.

"With the other guys?" she asked.

"Nah, they're out doing their own thing tonight. Believe it or not, we don't always spend all our time together," he chuckled, hoping on the off chance he didn't sound condescending.

"Fair. Spend too much time with someone, some heads are gonna roll," Kimberly replied, then she brought her voice to a whisper, "Hence I'm hiding in my bunk so I don't have to deal with the Alfredo sauce from hell,"

Chloe suddenly hollered out, "I heard that Kimberly! Stop flirting with Namjoon and come help me!"

Kimberly rolled her eyes, pulling back the curtain and sticking her head out of her bunk, "We're not flirting!" she called back.

Charlotte sighed after, crouched down over a messy spill on the floor. A zesty, garlicky smell was beginning to fill the bus, "We just need a mop," she muttered, "Maria! Open the window in the back!"

"Already on it!" and Maria hopped out of her bunk.

Kimberly huffed, though Namjoon chuckled from the other end, "I take it you gotta go?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry," she replied.

"Don't be sorry. It's Jackson's fault, anyway," she could hear Jackson snap something back in Korean, much to her amusement.

"It's always a pleasure talking to you, don't be silly," she simpered, "I'll talk to you later, go have fun!"

Namjoon said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, his eyes lingering at his lock screen a moment more. Jackson meanwhile continued to sit and smirk up at his friend, much to Namjoon's annoyance.

"What are you smirking at?" he asked as he sat down, "And how did you know my passcode?"

"Don't be mad because I know your mom's birthday," he replied, "How long have you been talking to Kimberly?"

"A few months. She's nice," Namjoon muttered quickly.

Jackson scoffed, "So was Lim Ju-eun, she seemed very nice in your old posters,"

"Oh, leave me alone," Namjoon elbowed him softly, "She's my friend, nothing more,"

"I believe you," Jackson nodded, "I also believe that if you had the opportunity to date, you would snap her up in a minute,"

"She has a boyfriend, anyway," Namjoon pointed out.

Jackson sighed, "But none of that's not stopping her from rattling around in your brain all the time,"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, deciding to reach for another beer off the table, "Jackson, whatever you're about to say, just leave it alone,"

"I'm not trying to tease you, Joon," he said, his demeanour shifting to a serious undertone, "I'm worried for you,"

"Why are you worried for me?"

"Because you're falling for somebody you clearly can't have, and if that affects your performance --"

"It's not going to affect my performance, or my duties," Namjoon assured, "I told Jin and the others; Kimberly is my friend and any affection I have for her -- or for anyone -- isn't a priority. You would do the same if it was you,"

Jackson shrugged back, his gaze averting off, "I used to think that way..." he muttered.

Namjoon cocked a brow, staring long and hard at Jackson, "Hold on -- did you meet somebody?" he asked curiously.

Jackson nodded slowly, "You can't tell the other guys,"

"I won't," Namjoon assured him.

"Haneul -- or Hannah, I guess. I met her last year, she's a student at Yonsei, and we both went to the same restaurant for lunch," he explained.

"-- Have you spoken to her?" Namjoon asked.

"A couple of times. She's a little mean at first, she absolutely hates k-pop music" he chuckled, "But the more I got to know her, the more I really came to like her. And I think she came to like me, too," the way he spoke was so wistful, words grasping for the moment as though it had just happened. Namjoon had never seen Jackson so sentimental before, he hardly ever discussed his personal life like. They were both a lot alike in that rhetoric.

"So, what happened?" Namjoon asked, feeling the 'but' of his story creeping like a stark chill.

Jackson shrugged listlessly, "I had to let her go. I knew I couldn't have her, and it wasn't fair to make her wait for God knows how long until I could renegotiate my contract," he replied, "She said she understood, but I think I fuelled her hatred of this industry even more. She hasn't replied when I tried to check in with her, I know she probably needs so space to heal but... it sucks,"

Namjoon nodded slowly, "But you still think about her?"

"More than I would like," Jackson admitted, "I had a lapse in judgement; and I know I did the right thing in the long term, but I can't help but feel I wasted her time. I never should've gotten involved with her in the first place," he turned back to Namjoon, "My point is that I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. As much as it paints me to admit, BTS is quickly becoming a global sensation and you can't afford to have your heart broken over someone you know you can't have. Don't get attached, you have to keep your focus,"

"I am focused," Namjoon assured him, "Kimberly is just my friend, and I am gonna make sure we do what we need to do to keep us all on track," he then placed his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving him a small squeeze, "... That doesn't mean I can't feel for your situation,"

Jackson simpered, popping the beer can open and taking a swig, "It's better this way for us. Maybe one day it'll be different, but for now..." he shook his head, "We're stuck with each other,"

Namjoon took his own can and clinked with Jackson's, "I'll cheers to that," and he took a swig. His gaze shifted again to his forearm, remembering the pressure of the pen, the swift and sharp markings when Kimberly scribbled her number on his skin. He wasn't sure why he was so full of hope back then, blinded momentarily for what could have been though he knew fully well he could never have her. Jackson was right, he had to detach himself before she consumed him, or worse he consumed her and broke her heart.

After all, April was right around the corner...

[the-final-knight]

I’m tired, so tired. I just need to go home. I don’t know what to do. I feel like it’s got to be maybe more than just tired, though I have barely slept these past few nights. Maybe I’m coming down with something.

The bus pulls in, with blinding lights, screeching so loud, too loud. Does this not bother other people?

I step on, and it’s crowded. Every seat taken, and the only place left to stand is at the back, near a very rowdy group. I silently make my way back there. When the bus starts, it jolts, and I nearly lose my balance. Waves of voices and songs playing from phones and laughter blend together and separate in ripples, fading to background until I can’t focus on any of them. Some people leave, and even more people get on. One of the seats squeaks with every jolt. I look at the window, trying to think of something else, but the smudges reflect the flashing lights and bright colors back at me. I close my eyes, and I notice a sort of heavy dizziness. But I don’t care.

Someone bumps against my shoulder. I feel like every sound and sensation whams against me, sending shockwaves bouncing everywhere. I don’t feel anything anymore. I just feel those ripples going through me. It’s so loud in my head that it’s a sort of silence. Like very complicated white noise that jumps out and attacks you.

My sight is orangey through my closed eyelids. Another round of laughter from that group, makes me almost cringe. Like bones in a blender, or fingernails on glass. Someone yells from the front of the bus, as it lurches to a stop. I step off, bracing myself as the bus very loudly pulls away. When my eyes sort of adjust to the bright glare of the sun on asphalt, I look around, checking signs. Wrong stop. But it’s only a couple extra blocks. My phone buzzes.

It’s him. Wondering where I am. I just say that I’m on my way, and will be home soon. My feet feel like hot bricks.

___

It is more than an hour later when I show up at our front door. Locked. I don’t have the keys. Do I have the keys? I put them in my pocket this morning, didn’t I? Nope, not in my pocket. I run through every step I took this morning. No, I did not grab the keys. The lights are off inside, so I just slump down on the porch. Nobody notices. Hours tick by, and morning finds me asleep, head on my knees.

I’m stiff. It is cold, despite being nearly summer. I turn my phone on, then off, then on again. It’s already nearly 6. I need to start walking to get to work. But I usually leave at 6:15. So I’ve got a few minutes. The phone is at 40 percent, but I can charge it at work. There are several notifications, four missed calls and a lot of messages. From him.

The screen blurs in front of my eyes, I dismiss it until the tears fight through and run down my face. It’s already been four minutes, but I can’t stop.

He comes on, seeing that his messages are read but I have no words, so I just say;

I hear running footsteps from inside, and he opens the door. Still wearing his bright red pajama pants. The color makes me want to throw up but I don’t say that. It’s a pinkish offset of red, cherry red or something and my stomach doesn’t feel that great anyway so don’t judge me.

“For goodness sake you could have knocked or messaged me or SOMETHING!”

“I left my keys on the floor by the coffee table.”

“I was in there. I would've let you in.”

I don’t answer, I’ve got nothing to say. I just stare at my feet. My ankles are sore, because my shoes are not the greatest, and they rub relentlessly. Even with socks.

He gives a deep, shaky sigh. “Are you alright?”

I don’t know the answer, so I just shrug. I don’t like that question. It always gives me this heavy sinking feeling in my chest, and a sharp pang like a band around my lungs. I don’t make sense and I know it. My eyes prickle, so I blink to keep from crying.

His hand rests on my shoulder, and I let him guide me inside and close the door. He puts his arms around me, and when I tense up, he just holds me tighter until I relax a little. I close my eyes and just listen to my heartbeat. It seems so loud, I wonder if he can feel it too. Tears escape, and I pull away to wipe them.

“I need to go to work.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“No… My boss said-”

“I couldn’t care less what your boss said! This job isn’t good for you. Can you call in sick?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright.” He starts to turn away, but stops. “Do you want me to call with you again?”

“Yes please.”

We make the call, and then he goes into the kitchen. He has an online job, and it pays plenty, but I got a job too because I felt bad when he was the only one working. But I don’t like having to track time so closely and stuff, and always have work on the top of my head, cluttering my peace and giving me stuff to worry about. He hasn't told me outright to quit, but I can tell he thinks it.

I probably should. I'm not even doing it well, so I hardly am worth anything there.

I sit down with a heavier sigh than I intended, and change into more comfortable clothes. I can't say I'm not relieved, but I can't help but dread tomorrow, when I have to explain the short last minute call to my boss. My answer likely won't be the truth.

YOOO THIS IS SUCH A GOOD STORY!!! I think you should definitely continue it, I'm quite invested i think

[ashippingpotato]

Just a little fluff to go with my klance head canon

Keith p.o.v

We just got back from a mission to find an abandoned galra ship, sadly it was just a trap. We got out with minimal damage but hunk got two big gashes in his right arm, and Shiro has a small one on his leg

Hunk is currently in a pod, Shiro refused to go inside saying “Relax it’s just a scratch” but Allura forced him to rest a at least a little.

Everyone else is a little stressed out but other than that it seems fine. We got off the rest of the day so we could calm down from the failed mission.

I’m currently in my room, sharpening my knife when I hear a familiar voice from the room next door. It’s one of Shakira’s songs, you know the one where it says “my hips don’t lie”.

I stand up, getting ready to be a human sized pillow. I put my knife in its sheathe, knowing I’ll probably be there for the rest of the day.

I slowly walk up to my door to wait for it to open up by itself. I step out into the hallway and go right, just to stop a few steps later in front of Lances door

(Sorry about that back to the story)

I knock on his door three times, three seconds in between each one. We made it so he knows if it’s me or someone else knocking.

I hear a few footsteps and a soft “swoosh” of the door. He silently lets me in knowing there’s no point in arguing about how he’s “fine”.

I sit down on the bed, the soft music playing in the background. He sits down next to me, not making eye contact.

I turn to my left were he’s sitting on the bed, silently holding my arms out, inviting him in for a hug (that will probably turn into cuddles later)

He leans into my body not even trying to return the hug. “What’s wrong” I ask even though I already know the answer.

“What if they died” he asked quietly. There it is Lance is constantly overthinking everything, though most of the time he covers it up.

“Lance…..,they didn’t” I said in an equally soft tone. “I know but what if they did” a little desperation in his voice. He sat up slightly and looked me in the eye. His eyes were shiny with tears.

“I don’t know I said honestly, I’m not usually good with words but I try my best. “But I do know that they didn’t and that they are ok”

“Bu” “Lance. I said stopping him from saying anything more. “Don’t let your mind get ahead of you”. I said a sadness seeping through my voice.

“They are alive and are healing”. “They aren’t dead”. I said a little sterner. “They aren’t dead” I whispered a few more times.

I slowly pull him back into my embrace, trying to be as gentle as I can. He falls into me easily sticking his head into the crook of my neck.

His copper hair tickling my cheek, his shoulders relax falling into the embrace more. I hear him sniffle, not to long after feeling tears on my collar.

“T-thank you” he shakily says, his crying slowly takes over his voice as he softly sobs into my collar. I start to tear up slightly as well,so relieved that Lance trusts me with these feelings.

LA END!!!!! (For now)

Tell me if you want more of this or a skip to the future

Anyway sorry for spelling and/or grammar mistakes

[redisaid]

The World Will Only Darken Without Candlelight - Chapter 4

Girls like me don’t cry

Ao3 is back and I only had to hold onto this one for a few hours. That’s good, because the second I have to keep anything longer, I will edit it to an unrecognizable death. 

Also yay for Ao3! Also apparently it’s Zelink week, so that’s fun, though this isn’t following any sort of prompt for that.

7467 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Tell me that you’ll keep me safe and never let this fade away I'm hiding out so they don't see this part of me Girls like me don't cry Girls like me pretend we don't cry

Link lived in a bus.

Link lived in a fucking bus in the parking lot. An old school bus painted with a geometric sort of motif of forests and mountains.

Converted, quite nicely, Zelda might add, into a tiny house on wheels in which she now sat, screaming into her cracked phone. “Why are both you and Urbosa telling me not to call the cops? I was just assaulted, dad! Link is still over here bleeding all over his…bus.”

Of course he lived in a bus.

Rhoam’s voice on the other end of the line was still groggy with sleep. He hadn’t bothered to turn off the TV he'd fallen asleep in front of, which Zelda could still hear blaring a cable news station in the background.

“Just trust me on this,” he begged of her. “Trust me and stay with Link until I’m there. I’m getting my keys now and I’ll be there as soon as I can, princess.”

“Are you going to fucking explain what’s going on?” Zelda shouted back at him.

She wasn’t all that confident she could convince her phone to make another call after this one. The cracked screen was flickering in and out, and the touch controls were hit or miss.

She’d wasted that first call on Urbosa, who had first apologized for letting her leave alone, then told Zelda not to call the cops, call her dad, and call her back immediately if he didn’t answer.

And now this.

“Stay with Link,” her father repeated. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up on her. Or her phone stopped working. Zelda couldn’t be sure, but it took every ounce of control she had not to throw it clear across the bus. Maybe at Link, who was standing between her and the door, paper towel held to the worst of his bloodied knees.

But, no, not at him. He’d just saved her fucking life. The mute, short, horse girl of a man who lived in a bus.

At least it was a nice bus. Very cozy. All finished out with what seemed like recycled wood and clean, soft white paint. Something that an Instagram van-lifer would dream of.

Zelda sat at a little dinette of that same recycled wood, on a bench softened by dark green upholstery cushions.

“Here. It’s okay. Come with me,” had been the second thing Link ever said to her.

And, “Do you, uh, want a water or something?” was the third as he noticed her call had ended and she was now the one staring at him.

“You live in a bus,” she observed.

“Yup,” he answered.

“You just saved my life,” Zelda continued stating the obvious, hoping that repeating it would make the words make more sense to her.

“I guess?” was Link’s answer.

“You can talk.”

“Yup.”

“And you’re a wonderful conversationalist,” she noted. “Full of details. Fuck. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve how I’m talking to you right now. How I have talked to you. I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay.”

It was not okay. Someone just held a knife to her throat and tried to zip tie her hands. Link had just presumably seen this across the parking lot, run out of his lovely bus home in just a pair of shorts, and tackled that someone to the ground like some sort of wrestling cage match and fought him off. And for all this, Zelda was supposed to not call the police?

“I’ll--sorry--I’ll take the water.”

He nodded, artfully scooting past her in the cramped space toward the little kitchen area, where a small but not small enough to necessarily be called mini fridge sat built into the white cabinets. It too was green, retro-looking, and very much stocked to the brim.

Link handed her a bottle of water before checking his knee and tossing the bloody paper towel into a garbage can hidden in yet another cabinet.

Whatever wounds had been inflicted on him seemed to be entirely due to the fact that he’d charged through a gravel parking lot half-naked in the middle of the night to save her. Without a shirt, he wasn’t as scrawny as Zelda thought. Obviously, he had to have some muscle on him to do the things she’d seen him do. She just was somehow expecting less.

And blamed her current emotional state for even thinking about that.

“My dad’s coming to get me,” she relayed as she decided it was better to stare at the bottle of water instead.

Link grunted an ascent to this. From the sheer volume of her previous conversation alone, she suspected that she didn’t have to tell him. But she did anyway.

He went over to the kitchen again, wetting a dishrag in the sink before wiping his face with it. The cut there had stopped bleeding on their walk over to the bus.

The bus, the only thing parked in the old RV spots that night. Rhoam used to let performers camp at the site, and apparently still did. For all he’d complained about it looking “trashy”, obviously the hookups still worked to the point where Link’s bus had power and water. Soft LED lighting had made it a haven in the darkness.

A bus. A fucking bus.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Zelda started up again, asking without even popping the cap on the water bottle. “Actually no, I know you do. I know you’ll tell me the same thing as them. Not to call the cops.”

Link winced at this. Actually winced. Maybe it was from stinging the cut on his forehead. Maybe not.

But he’d gone mute again, and gave no other response.

That only set Zelda off more. “You do and you would. You’re standing here bleeding all over your fucking bus and you’re going to tell me to keep quiet about it just like them. Why? Why did I bother coming back to this crazy little fucked up make-believe world you people live in?”

Link offered no answer to that.

Zelda looked down at her phone again, half of a mind to dial for emergency services anyway and defy all of them. Her father, Urbosa, Link. Hell, she had the numbers of the other Champions and would bet money they were in on it too if she bothered to ring them.

But it didn’t matter, because the phone only offered one last weak flicker to her touch before going black.

“I didn’t really mean that. I’m sorry,” was all Zelda had to say after that.

She slumped into the dinette table, head falling into the cradle of her forearms on the varnished wood.

A hand appeared in the sliver of vision that was left to her to slide the neglected water bottle toward her as Link crossed back once again to stand between her and the door.

“Are you okay?” Zelda thought to ask him, not bothering with the water, but turning her head the other way so she could see him out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah,” was Link’s answer to that. He seemed to think about it for a moment.

Zelda turned her head just a little more, peering through the long blonde strands of her own hair at him. For once, he wasn’t looking at her, but out of the glass of the door, seeming not to trust that they were well and truly done with whatever was out there, lurking in the dark. Or maybe he was hoping to see the headlights of Rhoam’s car appear so he could be done with her. Probably that one, actually.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night,” Zelda told him as she buried her face in her arms completely. “And basically your entire day. But you deserved to at least have the evening to yourself after putting up with my shit and now here I am, sitting at your table.”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. She wanted him so badly to say that it wasn’t okay. That he hated her. That he despised her. That she was selfish and immature and ungrateful. That for all he cared, he could have just watched her get kidnapped and done nothing and had a better tomorrow for it. She was just an entitled brat, after all. The boss’ daughter, who didn’t even want to be there.

But instead, Link wandered past again, and pushed the cold water bottle at her elbow insistently.

This time, he went deeper into the bus, and when Zelda looked up to follow him with her eyes, emerged from the back of it, now wearing a faded graphic t-shirt she couldn’t quite make out the wording on. But she could make out the image of a knight on a horse. A different renaissance faire’s logo?

He looked at her, looking at him. He opened his mouth to say something, then reconsidered. He took a step forward, then tried again, “I was going to make dinner. I didn’t eat. You didn’t eat either. I don’t think, at least. Do you, um…?”

Link didn’t manage to finish the sentence. That many words at once seemed like it was too much for him, or maybe just too much for now. Even several feet down the bus, Zelda could see him shaking just slightly as he held his hands up in a bit of a shrug. Shaking just as she had when she’d followed him to the bus, fumbling to find Urbosa’s contact in her dying phone.

Zelda knew that feeling well. The tremor of anxiety and leftover adrenaline. The need to do something with that energy, anything, always. Because if she stopped, she would have to face reality. She would have to face the past and future alike, and watch them tear her apart.

“That sounds great,” she eventually answered. “And you’re right. I didn’t really eat. But…you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything for me. You’ve already done too much.”

Link didn’t offer any response to that protest, and instead buried himself in the little fridge again. He gathered item after item, holding them to his chest before going over to the stove with an armful of things. A container of takeout rice. Two eggs wrapped between fingers. A bunch of green onions. A bottle of some brown sauce. A green-lidded tupperware whose contents were otherwise unidentifiable. A chunk of butter. A bag of frozen peas.

Zelda cracked open the bottle of water, finally. She sipped it as she watched him chop the onions. She watched him crack the eggs and whip them with a fork. She watched him dump the rice into a wok he pulled out. She watched as the tremors in him seemed to calm, slowly but surely, as the tupperware revealed a chunk of ham that he diced into smaller chunks of ham.

She watched as Link made fried rice that looked better than anything she’d eaten in weeks. She watched him smile to himself as he flipped it in the wok.

Short, horse girl chef man. Bloody knees. Lived in bus. He hummed a little as he cooked, seemingly lost in the process, forgetting all else. In his happy place, finally.

And here Zelda was, drinking her water and watching him, feeling the adrenaline leave her system too. Slowly and steadily, not like the confusing rush that had happened after her attacker ran off. Or the anger-filled void of staring at her broken phone.

This time, she only felt tired. Bone tired. She just wanted this night to be over. This long, terrible awful opening day of the faire. She wanted to just start over, honestly. Start over and try again. Curl up onto this dinette bench and its soft green cushions and wait for morning to come.

So when Rhoam came knocking at the door of the bus, just as Link was setting down a bowl of that delicious-smelling fried rice in front of her, Zelda decided it was not worth trying to explain why she didn’t really want to leave. Not that she could explain it, really.

She didn’t even get to try the rice.

---

“For the last time, I am physically fine!” Zelda shouted at her father as he drove down the mostly abandoned avenue that would lead back to their suburban home. “Mentally, I would be much better if I knew what was going on. Especially why you won’t involve the authorities in, I don’t know, your only child being attacked in the parking lot of a venue you own? One where, let’s not forget, you host a renaissance faire primarily attended by families with--”

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Rhoam cut her off, repeating the same phrase for at least the fifth time in this awful car ride. “But I’m glad Link was there. And you’ll have to trust that I’m handling it.”

“You and a semi-mute horse girl that lives in a bus are going to keep me safe?” Zelda challenged from the passenger’s seat, arms crossed over her tank top, running parallel to the horizontal stripes that crossed it.

“Horse girl?”

“Link!”

The grimace that had been firmly planted on Rhoam’s face since Zelda began her much-deserved rant softened a little, revealing a smirk beneath it. “The lad is a bit of a horse girl. Good kid, though. And he even watched out for you off the clock.”

“I don’t want to be watched out for, dad,” Zelda told him, unphased by his odd fondness for Link this time. “I want to just work through my summer and get out of here. Right now, I’m thinking I should do that in Hateno. Working at a coffee shop or the campus bookstore couldn’t possibly be as awful as this.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Rhoam swept in, scowl back on his face even though he kept his eyes on the road. “Now that this has happened, it’s better you’re here and have someone to look after you. Clearly Link is working out.”

“What is with you and him anyway?” Zelda asked, then thought for a moment before she began outlining her priorities, “That’s low on the list, actually. First, why was I attacked? Second, why won’t you call the cops? Third, why do you trust the weird dude who lives in a bus to keep me safe?”

“What’s wrong with living in a bus? You saw it. It’s a nice bus. I would have loved to have something like that when I was his age,” Rhoam said.

“There’s nothing wrong with living in a bus! Forget point number three entirely!” Zelda demanded, voice raising and pitch sharpening along with it as she clung to the armrest, turned as much toward him as her seatbelt would allow.

“I can’t have you involved,” Rhoam told her, his answer quiet and low in comparison.

“Dad, I’m already involved.”

She was too involved. So involved. So involved she could still feel the knife on her throat. Link’s shaking hand reaching for her elbow. The copper penny smell of his blood. The way her heart beat and beat and her brain somehow did nothing for all the effort.

Zelda had never felt so helpless in her entire life. Losing the internship was the worst thing to happen to her up until tonight. Now, she could have that terrible phone call with her dad any day, everyday, in exchange for never having to experience that again.

Rhoam hit a red light on the intersection before the one that he’d turn on to get into their subdivision. The road was nearly empty, and no one was waiting at the cross street. The light caught them purely on a timer, not for any need.

Well, any need besides Zelda’s. “Please, dad. It’s too late for you to keep me in the dark.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” was Rhoam’s answer as he finally turned to her.

“I didn’t want to be either,” Zelda told him.

Though these last two weeks between that fateful phone call and tonight had her questioning if she’d really rather be accepted for the internship at alll. Disease research was fascinating, sure, but it didn’t fill her with the passionate fire that other things did.

Sometimes it was just a brief, fleeting burn. She’d binge watch some shitty series while studying and then become utterly obsessed with it for a week. Then her favorite character would get killed off or do something stupid and her interest would immediately dissipate as if it had never existed at all.

But other things…they felt like the only things keeping her alive. Breath and blood. Each new fact or concept she grasped about archeology filled her with energy that vibrated her very bones and sinew. Reading papers on new discoveries was her guilty pleasure. Normal people didn’t subscribe to several scientific journals to get their daily serotonin, but Zelda did.

In fact, a good paper was just about the only thing that was going to calm her down enough to even get a shred of sleep tonight. That or some fried rice.

Fuck. She was starving.

But her father was cracking, looking down at her from across the cab of his truck. The information would have to fill her for now. “I received some threatening letters a few weeks ago. Several of them. Threats to me, to you, to the faire. Me, I could care less about. The faire, well, I can get help there. You, though. You, I won’t negotiate on.”

“Wait, what?”

She hadn’t expected this honestly, despite receiving it. But clearly, her father was feeling guilty enough to keep talking, so Zelda let him.

“I thought it was just some kids at first, threatening to pipe bomb the faire or whatever. I didn’t call the cops then because I couldn’t afford to have them shut us down if they decided to take things seriously. So I didn’t,” Rhoam explained.

The light turned green again, and he used the need to press down on the accelerator to take a pause.

“But they threatened me?” Zelda asked to keep him going.

Rhoam blew a sigh out of his nose. His beard didn’t ruffle much for it, having been flattened from its kingly glory by his nap on the couch and subsequent rush to come get her. “Eventually. Clearly whoever it is knows a lot about me.”

“What do they want?”

The eternal question. But Zelda wasn’t used to being the center of it. She’d watched her father deal with the many dramas of running the faire over the years. Dealing with high maintenance vendors and performers alike. Someone always wanted something from him. More space. More money. More time on stage. More, more, more.

“The castle,” was Rhoam’s answer.

He turned onto their street, into a neighborhood of simple, modest homes, most of them several decades old. Theirs was no exception. Tan brick, white siding, blue shutters. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Badly in need of a kitchen renovation. Hardly a castle itself.

“They want me to put the castle ruins up for sale,” Rhoam continued. “By midsummer. In the middle of the faire.”

“The midsummer festival is the busiest week of the faire,” Zelda noted. “Why would whoever this is think you’d be okay with that? It’d ruin you.”

“I’m not okay with it. That’s why they’re threatening me and my family,” Rhoam concluded. “Again, if it were just me, it’d be different. But people depend on that faire. People I’ve known for years and years. People you’ve grown up with. And you…”

His hands gripped at the leather of the steering wheel until it creaked. Zelda had no doubt in her mind where she’d gotten that bad habit of clenching her fists and crushing water bottles from.

Rhoam turned into their driveway with the steering wheel still under threat from his meaty fingers. “Link came to me looking for work,” he went on. “Exactly on the day that I got the letter that made a threat on you. And then you called me about the internship when he was still sitting in my office.”

The fact that the timing of all this was terribly convenient wasn’t lost on Zelda. But it paled in comparison to the deep sinkhole of embarrassment she was falling into at the idea of Link hearing her sobbing on the phone and begging her father for rescue from her own failure.

“He offered,” Rhoam told her. He pulled into the garage, shutting off the ignition and pressing the remote he kept clipped to the mirror to shut the door. “He promised me he’d keep you safe.”

“He did,” Zelda told him. “But you also could have told me. You could have given me options.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight at the time,” Rhoam admitted. His massive frame slumped against the seat of the truck. He made no move to open the door.

“I still don’t know if you’re thinking straight,” Zelda told him, unbuckling herself so she could lift her own much smaller body to twist in the seat and face him fully. “If you just told the police--”

“About a bomb threat? Kidnapping? Murder? Sure, they would definitely let me keep the faire open, Zelda. They definitely wouldn’t shut it down and leave hundreds of people without a source of income for the summer. And that’s even if they didn’t just laugh this off as some prank, even with what happened to you,” Rhoam said, shaking his head. “No, I can’t have that. I’m working on it. I promise I’m working on it.”

“How?” Zelda pried. “How can you fix that? Have Daruk go mean mug every slightly suspicious person that goes near the castle? Have Purah install some facial recognition system that scans police databases or whatever?”

“She did rig up some surveillance cameras for me.”

“Is that it?”

“No,” Rhoam told her with another shake of his head. “The good thing about working with all kinds of people for fifteen years is that you get to know, well, all kinds of people. Some of them are shady people who are good at investigating shady things. Trust me. They’re taking care of it for us, and I don’t need you sticking your nose into it.”

“You’re asking me to trust carnies in tights and armor--”

“--that you grew up around,” Rhoam reminded her. “That I consider our extended family. Don’t forget that. As much as I know you want to, please don’t forget that. It’s important to have people who have your back in life, Zelda. Sometimes, they’re not exactly the type of people you had imagined they would be, but that doesn’t change what you mean to one another.”

“It’s just--”

Rhoam finally looked over at her, turning to her. In a rare moment of contact between them--Zelda couldn’t remember the last hug she’d gotten from her father, maybe high school graduation--he took hold of her hands with his, encompassing them as he looked into her eyes.

“Zelda, please. Promise me. I told you this because it didn’t feel fair to leave you in the dark. You are involved now, yes, but I don’t want you any more involved than you are. Keep yourself safe. Don’t go off alone anymore. Stay with Link. I wrote an entire new plot for the faire to keep you with someone at all times. I know it’s not what you might want, but for now, until we figure this out, please just stick with him, all right? Stick with him and leave fixing this to me, all right?” he asked.

She looked down at his hands. So much bigger than hers. Rough and warm. A sincerity bled from his touch that went beyond the barrier of resentment between them. Beyond not being enough and being too much at the same time. Beyond being absent and too present at the same time as well.

“Okay,” Zelda answered, surprised by the shaking in her own voice.

Equally surprised by the fact that she had to run into the house after this, so that he wouldn’t see the tears that finally fell freely from her eyes then. After all that had happened, all the fear and frustration of the day, it had taken her father holding her hand to make her remember how to cry.

---

Zelda woke the next morning at seven. She’d fallen asleep maybe somewhere around four in the morning, so it wasn’t exactly a graceful rising. More of a battle against her alarm and the sandpaper consistency of her eyelids. But she won it, somehow.

And while she’d hoped to get more information out of her father over coffee, she instead came out into the kitchen to find that there was both no coffee to be found, and a note waiting for her next to a phone.

Had to go in early for a horse emergency up at the barn. Sorry, princess.

Urbosa drove your car back this morning. This phone is already activated with your number and restored from a cloud backup thanks to Purah.

Remember what I said about the people you know. And please remember what you promised.

I hate to ask you to go to work today. I really do. But please at least come to the castle so I know where you are.

- Dad

The only thing worse than having a control freak for a father was having any inclination to agree with that control. But, Zelda didn’t want to be in the house alone. So much so that she left early and made a beeline straight for the castle.

Well, with just one very short stop. Both because she very much needed to have coffee to make it through today, and because she needed to fix what she was allowed to fix. What she could fix.

It wasn’t exactly her fault she liked fixing things.

And this time, fixing things had her knocking on the door of a bus with a bag of breakfast burritos in hand.

Probably too many breakfast burritos, but she was starving, and Link clearly liked to eat.

Initially, there was no answer. Enough time passed for Zelda to think to herself about how stupid this was. How he was probably up at dawn to exercise his horse or whatever. Or help her dad with whatever horse emergency had been going on. Though she had her reasons to believe there was no such horse emergency and he just didn’t want to deal with her yelling at him in the car again.

And what if Link didn’t even like breakfast burritos? Nonsense. Everyone loves a breakfast burrito. But--

Zelda looked up from her own thoughts to find the door swinging open. A bleary-eyed Link stared down at her from an unusually high vantage for his short frame atop the steps up to the bus, loose hair wet from a shower and longer than she thought it was, but still clad in the same shirt and shorts she’d left him in last night.

The shirt she could read now that her brain was functioning normally again. The faded letters stretched across his chest spelled out, “Hateno Renaissance Festival”.

It all clicked at once. Her father’s nearly instant trust of him. His very specific set of skills relative to his young age. The brief mentions of her having met him when they were both small.

Link was another ren faire kid. Just like her.

Zelda remembered herself for a moment and held up the bag of burritos. “I um, hey. I wanted to--no, not, I don’t know--thank you? I guess? And also apologize for being awful to you. I was awful. I’m still pretty awful. But, I brought us breakfast burritos. Do you even like breakfast burritos?”

Link seemed to need a second to process that. It was early, terribly early still. Not even eight in the morning early. But also, she had been terrible to him. He had no reason to accept any sort of apology.

Especially not this early in the morning.

But, despite it all, a little closed-mouth smile appeared on his face, and he stepped aside, beckoning her to follow him up into the bus.

It was a really nice bus. Zelda had to admit that. She’d noticed the matching horse trailer parked on the side of it this morning--complete with the same paint job of the mostly green, blue, and brown geometric forest and mountain motif over white.

The full-length bus still felt oddly cozy, but at the same time bigger than she’d remembered from the night before. The little kitchen was at the front, with the dinette she’d sat at being just behind the driver’s seat. Beyond that, Zelda could see a little living room area, complete with a decent-sized couch. A wall stood to partition most of the rest of the bus beyond that, clearly for a bathroom that was big enough to fit the shower Link must have just come out of. His soap smelled nice. Very woodsy. A tiny glimpse of a bed lay beyond that, big enough to take up the entire back of the bus and scattered with an overabundance of pillows.

“I guess that’s a yes on breakfast burritos,” Zelda noted as she set the bag on the dinette table.

Link turned from where he’d retreated back into the kitchen and nodded to her, then offered, “Yes, sorry. I should have said something.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she told him. “I’m the one who came here to apologize, and clearly you aren’t a talker. That’s fine. It’s all good.”

Zelda busied herself with setting out what was very much too many breakfast burritos in order to avoid any lingering awkwardness. She could easily house two herself, but didn’t think about doing that in mostly polite company. But there were six here. Not to mention the secret order of tater tots she ate in the car and chased with coffee.

But she didn’t know what Link liked. That was her excuse. Maybe he couldn’t do cheese, so she got some without cheese. Maybe he wasn’t a fan of the somewhat spicy Gerudo sausage that came in most of the burritos, so she had to get one with bacon instead. And then she wanted the bacon, so there were two with bacon now. And green and red salsa. Hot sauce too. Sour cream. Another order of tater tots for Link, of course, though she was definitely going to snag some. She should have gotten him a drink too. Oh well.

The dinette table was just about full from the spread by the time she looked up to see his eyes go wide from it.

“I bought way too much food,” Zelda told him and herself as well. “Don’t you dare say, ‘It’s okay,’ again either. For the record, some of this is for me. You just seemed really into food and--I don’t know. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s--” Link stopped himself before he could finish the phrase, and instead sat down at the dinette rather abruptly.

Zelda swallowed a breath she didn’t know she was holding and snatched one of the bacon burritos for herself. “Cheese, no cheese, bacon. Their hot sauce is amazing if you like spicy stuff. Sorry I didn’t get you a drink. I’m not very good at apologies, I guess.”

Link shrugged and took the other bacon burrito.

Good. Noted. Everyone loves bacon. Even weird little horse girl ren faire boys who Zelda just realized she likely had way too much in common with.

“I um, my dad told me a bit about what’s going on, last night that is, on the way home,” she started as she sat down on the other side of the table, on the same soft green cushions that had nearly lulled her to sleep the night before. “Not enough. He probably will never tell me everything, but I know about the threats. The letters. What you promised him. What you’re trying to do. How hard I made that for you. And I’m sorry.”

How many more times would she have to say it for things to feel right? Because it certainly didn’t sink in yet. Not even as she stared at him over the pile of burritos, trying to decide if it was weird to reach for the salsa to cover the silence.

“You said you didn’t want me to say it’s okay again,” Link finally piped up as he reached for that exact container of salsa and eased her of yet another burden.

“I don’t, but I realize that’s kind of what you’re supposed to say. At least if you mean it, that is. And I’m sorry for that too. And for bringing you a mountain of burritos to try to fix it. This was stupid. I’m being so stupid about this,” Zelda said, standing up with the full intent of leaving her half-unwrapped burrito behind and letting Link eat in peace.

He deserved that much, at least.

“It’s not stupid and neither are you,” Link affirmed, reaching out to lay just the very tips of his fingers on the back of her hand to stop her. “I love burritos.”

“Everyone loves burritos,” Zelda concluded. She looked between him and his stupid little small hands on hers. Just about as big as hers. Not massively intimidating like her father’s.

At least his touch didn’t draw tears from her.

Zelda sat back down and took the hot sauce instead. “I just--sorry--I talk too much. You’ve realized that by now, I’m sure, so I don’t know why I keep talking to tell you that. Anyway, I’m sorry. You were just trying to look out for me and I’m very grateful that you did. I understand why now and I feel like shit about it. I just want to start over with you.”

“Okay,” Link mouthed around his first bite of burrito.

“Really? It’s that easy?” Zelda asked.

Link shrugged and kept eating his burrito, clearly enjoying it, or maybe as hungry as she was.

At least he’d gotten to eat the fried rice he’d made for them. She should ask him for the recipe.

All things considered, though, Zelda couldn’t believe him. She needed more than just that shrug, but didn’t feel she could truly ask for anything else of him. She was just so used to fighting for everything and anything she’d ever wanted for herself. Her archeology minor, which she’d had to swear up and down to her father wouldn’t get in the way of her pre-med program or affect her grades in the classes that “really mattered”. Hell, even living outside of the dorms had been an argument for the ages. Going to prom with her first girlfriend. Having the girlfriend at all, as her father was worried that would distract too much from her studies. Going on a date with a guy after that had been entirely another thing too. Even getting her driver’s license. Doing anything for herself or by herself or just because she wanted to.

She wondered if Link had his own oppressive ren faire dad. If his perfect jousting was the result of the same pressure. The same…

Their hands collided again over the green salsa.

“Go ahead,” Zelda told him, quickly snatching hers back. “It’s really good. This is from one of my favorite spots. They do authentic Southern Gerudo style breakfast and lunch and are always fast. Urbosa knows the owner, because of course Urbosa knows anyone who’s so much as even been near the desert. I should have gotten you a coffee too. I didn’t know if you liked coffee. Their coffee is amazing. Sorry, I’m talking again.”

“I don’t mind,” Link told her as he doused his burrito in the green salsa. “You always have interesting things to say.”

Not shut up Zelda. Stop talking Zelda. Okay no one cares Zelda. I’m sorry Zelda, but you lost me there. That’s nice, little bird, don’t you have somewhere else to be right now?

People were always trying to get her to shut up. No one had ever been interested in her rambling before. Even most people’s politeness had a limit that she would very quickly and easily exceed.

So, “Oh,” was all she could say to that, along with taking a bite of burrito with maybe a little too much hot sauce on it to cover that up.

Definitely too much hot sauce. To the point where she was coughing from it and Link had to get up to get both of them a bottle of water.

This time, at least, Zelda was self-conscious enough to avoid crushing it. Link’s little laugh at her struggle helped, as did the fact that he seemed to take this as his cue to dunk his second burrito in the offending hot sauce, and then have his own personal battle with the spice level of it.

“It’s really good,” Zelda repeated between bouts of spicy laughter.

“Yeah,” Link choked back at her.

Halfway through her bottle of water and a bite into a sauceless burrito to tame the last of the flames, Zelda piped up again, throat finally clear enough to speak, “Anyway, I wanted to again just apologize for being awful to you and for evading you. And thank you for last night. I don’t really want to think about what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“Me either.”

Link didn’t say much, even with him now breaking his seeming vow of silence around her, but when he did say anything, the words always packed a punch. Somehow, they struck a chord on the very sinew that held Zelda together, playing her like the faire musicians would their lutes or fiddles.

She wondered why, then, had he not spoken to her at all before, or presumably to anyone but her father. Clearly he could. Clearly, even if he wasn’t comfortable with it, he knew how to make his words matter.

“Can I ask you something?” she questioned as she let her wondering spill from her lips. “You don’t have to answer if it’s a difficult answer or at least difficult to explain. But, um, why don’t you talk to anyone?”

Blue eyes looked up from her beneath a mop of dirty blonde hair drying to a slight wave. He still had half a burrito in one hand, a tater tot in the other, and a streak of green salsa down his chin.

Link swallowed before replying, slow and low, “It was easier, I guess. If I wasn’t supposed to talk to you about what was happening. Your dad said it might be better just not to talk to you at all. And then it didn’t seem fair to talk to anyone else. Keeping the secret was my burden to bear. I don’t talk a lot anyway, so it was easier just not to talk at all.”

It was the most she’d ever heard him say at once, but exactly no more than what needed to be said. Succinct and to the point. The enraging, aggravating, and forever annoying point.

“It seems you and I have the same problem,” Zelda told him. “And it wears a fake crown, has a shitty beard, and thinks it knows better than us.”

Yet another thing she could blame her father for, then. Link had felt so pressured by the circumstances that he couldn’t even speak. And on top of that had presumably been made to promise not to speak of them to her, yet still be around her day in and day out.

No wonder her father had him playing the Silent Knight.

A quiet rage simmered within her at this notion. For all of her father’s good intentions in trying to keep her away from the threats to the faire, he could have easily gotten Link killed for it.

“What if he had a gun?” Zelda asked out loud. “Both of us could have ended up dead last night. For all those secrets. I promised my father I wouldn’t go to the authorities, as stupid as it seems. I also promised him I’d stick with you, and frankly, I didn’t need to make that promise. I don’t really want to be alone again after last night.”

A new paranoia had her looking around her all morning for red and black hoodies--anyone dressed uncharacteristically for the summer heat, really. Somewhere around three in the morning, as she was trying to lull herself to sleep the night before with a lovely paper about ancient Hylian pottery and just how rare it was to find a piece of it intact at any given site, Zelda had the thought that if they knew about her, then presumably they knew where she and her father lived. Maybe even where her apartment in Hateno was.

And suddenly the rare bliss of being alone and quiet with nothing but the constant ramble of her own thoughts was a thing she could no longer enjoy.

Good as it was, she was quickly losing her appetite for the rest of that second burrito, and set it down.

“Let’s…let’s not get shot about it, all right?” Zelda asked of Link, who was still eating despite the serious nature of the conversation. She was pretty sure he might still be eating if he was actively being shot at, but that was beside the point.

Still, he took a break to nod at her.

“I will warn you that I am going to be sticking my nose in this to some degree,” Zelda went on. “And you can tell on me if you want. If you must. But I’ll tell you as well that I’m going to do it in a way that keeps my promise. I’ll stick around and do my job here at the faire and not wander off alone. But, if I see something suspicious, or find some way I’m able to get more information about what’s going on otherwise, I’m going to pursue it. Just to be perfectly honest with you.”

Link gave her another nod and reached for his third burrito.

And although she was trying very much to be mad at her father and the situation he’d put both of them in at the moment, Zelda couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips.

That boy really did love to eat, huh? Well, at least she could always bribe him with food, if she needed to craft another apology to him for some reason.

Only when he leaned over to grab the hot sauce again and gingerly pour just a small amount onto his burrito this time, did she finally notice the thin red line that still marked his forehead from the night before. No longer actively bleeding, yes, and likely to scab over within the next few hours. It wouldn’t scar.

But still, it was there because of her.

Zelda didn’t even realize she was leaning over to brush it with her thumb until she was midway through the action. Link’s hair was soft and still damp as it parted way for her hand. His soap did smell good, at least, for a men’s product.

Link, for his part, didn’t so much as flinch, and let it happen.

“That cut doesn’t look too bad, actually,” Zelda noted as she tried to be graceful about suddenly leaning back to her side of the little dinette booth. “It’s fine for now. But you know, there’s a fine line between courage and recklessness. As brave as you are, that does not make you immortal.”

And as worried as she was for herself, Zelda certainly didn’t want him getting hurt over her either. Or worse. True enough, he had come to her rescue, but if things were only going to escalate from there, she didn’t think that his valiant, shirtless charges into battle would do either of them much good for long.

“I’m afraid things might only get worse from here,” she told him.

Link hadn’t started eating again since she’d touched him. He just looked at her, listening. Waiting.

She probably shouldn’t have touched him.

Still, Zelda went on, “So, from now on, let’s work together to make sure it doesn’t come to that. Deal?”

Link gave her another nod, then stuffed the rest of the third burrito in his mouth.

Well, at least he was easy to work with. And he appeared to very much appreciate her peace offering. She had to give him credit for that much.

And he smelled nice. For a boy, that is.