#sonya's like i dropped out of high school??

[fanficsformyfaves]

All Too Well

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNING: ANGST, Struggles With Sexuality, Mentions of Underage Drinking (DO NOT DO IT), Jealousy, Alcohol Consumption, Confrontation

PREFACE: Rhea and Reader were childhood friends, but after a kiss they shared during a party, Reader cut contact and never spoke to her again. That was until their high school reunion came up and the two finally see each other years later

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

Liv Morgan is also Reader's best friend from a different school in this A/U!

Some surprise appearances by other WWE Stars!

Was feeling a little angsty, don't mind me

"Are you sure it isn't too...showy?", I say,

Looking at Liv's reflection in the full-length mirror.

"Are you kidding? It's literally perfect"

I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

Within a week from now, we were set to attend our ten year high school reunion and to say I had knots in my stomach would be an understatement.

High school was fine, in fact, I often catch myself reminiscing on how simple life once was.

Not having to deal with adult responsibilities like work, bills or rent and just living life as I wanted...but there was one thing that made me wish time moved faster.

Rhea.

We grew up in the same neighborhood and were inseparable. Always sleeping over at each other's houses and hanging out every day after school. Wherever she was, I was. You wouldn't see me without her by my side and vice verse.

"Check this out", she says,

Smacking her wrist and causing the whipped cream she had on the back of her hand to catapult into her mouth.

"What the fuck? How?", I exclaimed.

She lets out a laugh, almost choking on the sweet foam.

"Saw someone do it on YouTube. Try it"

I shrugged, spraying some onto the back of my hand and repeating what she did. Only my attempt resulted in the cream to land on the side of my mouth. She lets out a roaring laugh, falling back against the couch.

"I've got you", she says,

Gently wiping it off my face and sucking it off her thumb. Her eyes never leaving mine, whilst doing so. I couldn't ignore the sudden rush of butterflies that irrupted in my stomach. What the hell was that?

I awkwardly clear my throat and sipped on some water. She eventually noticed my silence and squinted curiously.

"You alright, babe?"

Her nicknames have now become lethal to me. It's not like we haven't jokingly called each other things of that nature, but this time felt different.

"Mhm"

"Okay", she replied unconvinced.

Just then the door bell, rang. Thank god.

"I'll get it. Must be the food", she says,

Gently placing a hand on my thigh, before sprinting off. I felt her touch linger even after she'd already left the room. My heart racing against the confinements of my chest.

As the day turned to night, we got ready for the party Sonya was throwing, when I couldn't get the zipper of my dress up.

"Women's clothing is a complete joke!", I struggled inside the bathroom,

"Need some help?", she asked through the door.

Why was I so nervous for her to see me half dressed? We've changed in front of each other dozens of times before.

Though I must admit, I had to look away as we did. Something about seeing her so intimately made my stomach drop to my feet. Like I would...like what I see.

But nonetheless, I reluctantly agreed.

"Could you?"

She steps inside and carefully tugs my zipper up and once she was done, I turn around, patting myself off. For a moment, she eyes me up and down with a smile she was clearly trying to hide.

"That bad?"

"Not even close. You look amazing", she says,

Taking my hand and playfully spinning me around. God damn it, there go the butterflies again. I pull back, smiling awkwardly.

"Shall we?"

"We shall", she says,

Stepping aside and letting me out of the bathroom.

The entire car ride was silent, except for the ambience of the engine running and the radio softly playing. It gave me more time to fully process what happened and what exactly I was feeling.

It was all so sudden, that my head spun trying to wrap itself around it. I was probably overthinking. Maybe, I'd just imagined the whole thing and was worried over nothing?

"You're awfully quiet", she disrupts the silence,

Pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Usually, we'd be screaming non-sensical lyrics over songs we put on, but you seem rather distracted", she interrogated behind the wheel,

"Um, probably the shots I took before we left"

"Well, I'm designated driver tonight, so, have all the fun you want, sweetheart"

Again with the nicknames.

We eventually got to Sonya's and made our way inside. The house was crowded with drunken kids from school, dancing terribly and talking way too loud. Tonight was guaranteed to be hectic.

"You made it!", Sonya yells over the music,

Before yanking me into a hug and making me chuckle at her excitement.

"I thought you'd ditch, since you weren't at school today"

"Nope, just decided to skip since it's the last day before spring break", I explained,

Pulling away.

She then pulls Rhea into a hug and plants a kiss on her cheek, making Rhea laugh.

I couldn't help but feel off about it.

But before I could even react, a hand turns me around by the shoulder and it was Liv, my friend from a different school.

"Hey!", I greeted,

As she squealed, jumping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist, like she usually does.

"Oh my god, I haven't seen you since last semester!"

"I know! I was swamped with extra-curriculars and tests", she said,

Hopping back down.

I look over and was met with Rhea's intense gaze.

"Rhea, this is my friend, Liv. She goes to the school down the road from us"

"It's really nice to meet you!"

"Pleasure", Rhea greeted,

Her tone dry and unwelcoming. I give her a look of confusion, to which she simply ignored me, before walking off.

Besides that slight hiccup, the night went on just as I expected. With me getting wasted and making a fool of myself with Liv in the sea of dancing people.

Every now and then, I'd catch glimpses of Rhea staring daggers into me and for some reason, I didn't really mind. As a matter of fact, I sort of enjoyed the attention more than I was willing to admit.

That was until Liv grabbed my hips from behind and began swaying them, which then caused Rhea to visibly scoff and disappear from view.

Even in my drunken haze, I could tell she was irritated, but I decided to let her cool off, before attempting to ask any questions.

I did eventually feel the drinks working their way down, so I pulled Liv in close.

"I'm going to the bathroom!"

"Kk!", she yelled back.

I began stumbling towards the bathroom and swung the door open, just to find Rhea sitting in the empty bathtub.

"Hey there, stranger. I haven't seen you all night", I slurred.

"Yeah, you noticed? I'm surprised with the spectacular company that's been entertaining you"

My eyes squint curiously.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighs through her nose, looking away.

"Nothing"

It was now my turn to sigh, as I closed the door behind me and sat on the floor, beside the tub.

"Someone's jealous", I teased.

She didn't respond and merely scoffed once again.

"I saaaid someone's jealous-"

"And what if I was?", she interrupts.

In that very moment, any ounce of drunkness violently fled my body.

"What?", I chuckled nervously,

"What if...I was?", she repeated,

Sitting up and gripping the edge of the tub to bring herself closer to my face.

I was at a complete loss for words. Hit with so many emotions at once, that I froze in place, just staring blanky at her.

"What do you-"

Before I could complete my sentence, she cuts me off by crashing her lips onto mine. The strangest part of it all was the fact that I didn't pull away.

It felt...good.

I grab her face and pressed deeper into the kiss, whilst swiping my tongue over her bottom lip, tugging it slightly with my teeth.

Her own hands do the same and before I knew it, she pulls me into the tub, straddling her hips. I felt myself growing needier with each passing second, but before anything else could happen, she made her way down my neck, whispering.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting this"

That's when reality finally hit me. I was in love with my best friend this entire time and couldn't bring myself to admit it. I was in love with a girl. All the pieces of myself that I thought were broken were now starting to make sense and I just wasn't ready.

I hastily pull away, getting out of the tub.

"Where are you going?"

"We can't do this", I say,

Wiping the smudged lipstick off my cheek.

"(Y/N)"

"I'm sorry, Rhea, I can't", I rushed,

As she stood up to follow me.

"(Y/N)-", she steps out of the tub,

"Please", I pleaded with teary eyes,

Catching off guard.

"Just...I can't", I choked back a sob.

I rush out of the bathroom and left the party entirely, but as I ran home with tears streaming down my face, my phone kept blowing up with messages and incoming calls.

Some being from Liv, looking for me and others from Rhea, begging me to come back so she could explain. I simply turned my phone off and finally arrive at the steps of my house.

I was consumed with more emotions than I could handle. Confusion, helplessness, fear, but most of all, grief. I was now meant to grieve the loss of my best friend and possibly the love of my life.

That night was the last time I'd ever spoken to her.

Rhea would continue to try and get a hold of me, but a few weeks go by and she eventually got the hint.

At school, I'd take different routes to try and avoid her and when we did cross paths in the hallway, I'd just speed-walk past her to get to my next class.

Losing someone like her has been and still is one of my biggest regrets.

"Hellooo?"

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Liv's hand waving at me.

"What?"

"I asked if I should do an updo or have my hair down"

"Oh"

"Are you okay? You seem like a bajillion miles away right now", she questioned,

"I'm fine"

"Mhm", she crosses her arms,

"What?"

"Nothing. If you say so", she shrugged,

Turning back to the mirror.

"Liv", I urged warningly,

"It's just, are you sure this isn't about...Rhea?"

"What? No"

She sighs, hopping on top of my vanity.

"What?", I repeated,

"How long have I known you?"

"Well...a while"

"And in that while, do you really think I can't tell when you're lying?"

It was now my turn to sigh, as my arms fold over my chest.

"What happened was...less than ideal, but don't let that ruin your night. You deserve to have fun", she says,

Getting back on her feet and making her way over to the bed, as I shrug, watching her take a seat next to me.

"Who knows, maybe she still feels the same way", she nudges,

"That's not funny"

"I'm being serious! Who you are isn't anyone else's business, but your own and if you do end up telling her the truth, that should be your choice", she emphasized,

"Look, (Y/N), you're a total babe. Anyone would be lucky to have someone as sweet and funny and pretty and smart and-"

"Okay, okay, enough with the flattery", I chuckle,

Nudging her back.

"Hey and if all else fails, we can still get wasted"

"See? This is why you're my friend", I say,

High-fiving her.

The days came and went in what felt like a flash and before we knew, it was the day of the reunion.

With each moment that passed of us being in the cab, my heart grew burdened by anxiety. What was I supposed to do if I saw her? What if she came up to me? Would she tell me off in front of everyone? Was I prepared for that to happen?

Worst of all...what if she brought a date?

"Stop doing that"

"Doing what?"

"I see the hamster wheels spinning"

I sigh, relaxing into the seat. Liv then pulls out a cannister and sneaks it under my purse.

"You're lucky I came prepared"

"You really did", I say,

Twisting off the cap and carefully taking a swig.

"But don't over do it. I actually wanna dance a little before we black out"

We arrive at the high school and I was immediately taken back. The grass, the steps, the doorway. It truly felt like a blast from the past.

"Just as ugly as I remember!", I squealed,

Throwing a hand over my mouth, as Liv snorts, leaning against me.

The gymnasium was packed with many familiar faces, two of which were a set of twins I used to know.

"Yo, no fucking way"

"Hey, Jey", I greeted with a beaming smile,

"If it ain't miss (Y/L/N). Man, you still look good"

I playfully roll my eyes, as he pulls me into a hug.

"I haven't seem your ass in a minute, ma"

"No! I saw you a few years ago, when I came to one of Liv's matches"

"Like I said, a hot minute"

I laugh, pulling away to greet everyone else.

The DJ starts playing a song from way back when and Liv gives a mischievous grin.

"Oh god"

"You know the drill, come on", she drags me onto the dance floor,

And all of our friends followed suit.

As we started to dance, the gym doors open, catching my attention. My face immediately drops upon realizing who it was.

"What?", Liv turns to see and her own eyes widen.

"Shit"

There she was.

Only, I almost didn't recognize her. From the new black hair slicked back, to the expensive three piece suit and tattoos, my heart nearly gave out.

She was nothing short of breathtaking.

Her eyes immediately fall upon mine and it felt like everyone else disappeared. Even with her new entourage behind her, being rowdy, all I could focus on was the dejected look on her face.

I had only myself to blame. Had I not been a coward sooner, none of this would've happened. We wouldn't have cut ties, grown apart and gone our separate ways. We might've even-

"You good, uce?", Jey snaps me back to reality,

"Yeah, I'm fine"

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm fine, Liv. Really", I reassured,

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom", I let my friends now,

Before walking out of the gymnasium.

I knew this was all my own fault, but I couldn't help but tear up, thinking of all the things I could've done to change what happened. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than me.

I arrive at the bathroom and lock myself in the handicap stall.

With no one around to hear me, I finally let go of all the tears I'd been desperately fighting back. After allowing myself a good few minutes to cry, I grab some tissues to wipe off the makeup that was surely running down my face.

I recollect myself and exit the stall, but as I went to check on myself in the mirror, the door creaks open and it was none other than Rhea walking in.

There couldn't have been a worse possible time than now to run into each other.

"Sorry", she said with her head low,

Stepping back out.

"Wait, Rhea"

She simply ignored me and kept walking, to which I followed behind her.

"Rhea, could we please talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"Please", I begged,

She finally stops and turns to face me.

"I'm sorry"

"Alright"

"Rhea, please", I pleaded,

Taking a hold of her wrist and making her eyes pour into mine. Even being this close to her made my heart race against the inside of my chest.

I carefully let her go and she stuffs her hands into her pockets.

It was now or never. I could either just let her walk away and risk never seeing her again or make things right, so... I took a deep breath and began.

"I wanna start off by saying I understand that you're angry. You have every right to be and I don't blame you for it", I reassured.

Her eyes never leaving my face as I spoke.

"But before you go, I just need to tell you how sorry I am", I start to choke up,

"Nothing I say or do can ever make up for how I ended things...but I'm sorry"

Her gaze was still intense, but I could make out her eyes glossing over.

"I'm sorry for leaving you with no explanation. It was childish and stupid, but I promise, it had nothing to do with you. I was scared and I didn't know who I was back then, but I do now. I am a woman who likes other women", I wept,

As she takes a deep breath in.

"I am a woman...who was in love with her best friend", I admit.

The confession causing her face and shoulders to drop.

"She just wasn't ready to say it"

"(Y/N)", she exhales,

"But that doesn't excuse me just leaving you in the dark and for that, I am so so sorry", I cried.

"No one deserves to be treated like that, especially not someone like you. Someone so kind and so beautiful", I softly cup her cheek,

As she melted into my touch.

"I know I don't deserve it, but you'll have me, I promise I will never hurt you again"

She shakes her head with a tearful smile, taking my hands into hers.

"I am so proud of you", she says,

As tear rolls down her cheek and meets the tip of my fingers.

"You are?"

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear"

And for the first time in a long time, I felt...light. The years of shouldering this burden was gone and I could finally breathe again.

I was so caught up in what was going on, that I almost didn't notice the audience of our friends gathered behind me. Guess I just have to lay it all out there now.

"Guys", I start,

When I felt Rhea's hand grab mine to make me face her.

"(Y/N), you don't have to do this"

"I do"

If she was brave enough to come out all those years ago, it was now my turn to have that same courage. I turn back towards the small crowd and see Liv cheering me on with a nod.

"I love Rhea and I'm not hiding it anymore"

A fleeting moment of silence overtakes the hallways, before they all rush in to hug me.

"I'm proud so of you, kid!", Liv squeals,

Causing Rhea and I to laugh amidst the group hug.

"You're a g, (Y/N)", Jey joins in,

"You finally got the girl!", Dominik yells,

Making Priest playfully smack the back of his head.

They all pull away, allowing Rhea and I to face each other once more.

"Let's give them their space, guys", Liv say,

Ushering everyone back into the gymnasium.

Without wasting another precious moment, she pulls me in and kisses me with a newfound passion.

This was how it was meant to be.

[itsjustrosee]

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

pt. 1, Pt. 2

ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot!

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Sonya, Aris, and also Brenda. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team. Enemies to lovers

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

[storiesofsvu]

Hidden Desires Ch 1

Warnings: Language. Talk of the SVU job Dom!Alex cabot x f!reader A/N: this chapter’s a little short but the best lil intro fo this story that I could get.

**

You weren’t surprised when the door to your office at Hogan Place was thrown open by Sonya Paxton, a frustrated groan of a yell echoing through the room.

“Stabler?” Both you and Alex replied practically in unison, a mirroring grin on both your faces.

“If I have to deal with that smug bastard for one more minute I will end up punching him in the face.” She dropped her bag into a spare chair, moving towards where the two of you were indulging in a late lunch at the small conference table, grabbing the extra take out container left for her. “I swear that man needs to unwind, this whole separation thing definitely isn’t helping. He needs a good fuck.” Your laugh loudly echoed throughout the office as both sets of eyes landed on you.

“Don’t fucking look at me! I’d rather fuck Benson and I don’t even like women.”

“Well he won’t go near me and Alex sure as hell isn’t about to change lanes this late in the game.” Sonya moved through your office with ease, having spent multiple working lunches and dinners there, “And stop lying, I’ve heard stories about you kissing girls before.”

“I! Hey! That was high school, spin the bottle was involved! That totally doesn’t count!” Alex laughed at your reply, shooting back quickly,

“Doesn’t matter the circumstances, if you’ve kissed a girl, you’ve kissed a girl. Count me intrigued for this story…spill.” You shot her a glare across the table,

“Sounds like Cabot wants to make-out.” Sonya smirked, making Alex sputter in response, praying internally that her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

“No! Hey! I just want to hear the story!”

“Party in high school, we were playing spin the bottle, it landed on a girl, we briefly kissed as two sixteen year old girls would kiss, end of story.”

“Yeah but your experience of two sixteen year old girls kissing is very different from Alex’s.” Sonya called from across the room, “You’re out of Jameson’s.” You scoffed at the older woman’s comment, watching her pull the bottle of Lagavulin out,

“Hey! That’s the good stuff! At least go for the Jim! And if I remember correctly, the Jameson’s was your bottle you left here because for some reason my office is the hot spot.”

“Fine.” She shot you a grin, switching the bottles in her hand before grabbing a glass and moving back to the table before dropping into the chair across from the two of you. “So..I’ve got a Romeo and Juliet clause, girl’s mother’s calling the charges, not even the girl.”

“Is it statutory?” You quirked a brow, taking another bite of pad Thai.

“Sixteen and twenty.” Sonya sighed, reaching for the container of food, “SVU’s going over things to try and figure out when it started to try and iron things out.”

“So Stabler’s being a dick ‘cause he’s all ‘ooo I have daughters, this hits home harder than normal ‘cause I’m a parent’” You rolled your eyes, Alex nearly snorting at your comment, knowing just how exactly true it was. Stabler was always up on his high horse when it came to cases involving kids even remotely the same as his own.

“Yeah. What’ve you got?” Sonya asked, attention directed to you.

“He said she said, teacher and student. Gonorrhoea discovery was the only reason there was a disclosure. Kid claims the teacher raped him, teachers claiming the other way around, I just granted a warrant for the collection of her abortion remains so SVU better not be about to fuck me over.”

“Good to know Donnelly’ll be on your ass and not mine.” Sonya replied, both of your gazes landed on Alex, her cheeks breaking out into a smile at the heat of your eyes.

“I’ve got a gang rape by three women on a male stripper at a bachelorette party that may also be linked to the murder of the third female rapist.” She smirked at the expressions of the two of you, unable to hold back the laughter.

“Are you kidding me? That’s way better!” Sonya let out a defeated huff, falling back into her chair.

“A male victim? Who’s a stripper? That’s gonna be a hard case.”

“That’s not even the brunt of it.” Alex definitely smirked at the way you leaned against the table, eager to hear more of the story, “One of the accused perpetrators…Pam Adler.”

“Shut the fuck up…” You were the first to reply, Alex giving a knowing nod at your outburst. Adler was a criminal defence attorney, you’d all gone up against her a few times in the past years, and you were the only one to have won, and even then it was only by a hair.

The three of you continued on your usual casual lunch for about another hour until your phone pinged, calling you away to the precinct. Sonya, Alex and you were all A.D.A’s in New York, you’d swapped departments a few times, but the D.A’s office found you all best suited in SVU, though you still picked up the occasional homicide case, especially when SVU was slow. You were the newest out of the other women, climbing your way up the ladder as everyone else had before you. You’d been surprised when Sonya took you under her wing, backing you up on cases you brought before the grand jury, she always had your back, defending you more than once when you thought you were about to get steamrolled. Alex was a bit of a struggle, you couldn’t lie, she intimidated you like no tomorrow, despite the fact that you’d actually gone to college together. The woman was powerful, classy, even in her first year as an A.D.A she was a fucking legend, and that, that made you think she’d absolutely hate you when it was decided the three of you would be splitting sex crimes.

Instead, she’d given you a small smile, wishing you the best in the department before whisking off to a crime scene. You were thankful when the three of you fell into a routine of talking over cases together, a second and third eye on the evidence and each other’s arguments/questioning was always a good thing, and you had some weird niche that simply worked flawlessly. You’d grown closer with Alex, back in college you had a handful of mutual friends, she helped you study for a few classes she’d already passed, and you spent a few parties together. The alcohol kicking one of your asses more than you’d expected meaning that one of you slept it off in the other’s apartment on more than one occasion.

Alex would never admit it, wanting to respect your sexuality, but she’d had a little bit of a crush on you since school, she’d always thought you were attractive, hoping that some college experimentation would help you change your mind but it never happened. She simply held back, knowing that you could be a good friend, especially once you joined the D.A’s office. She kept her thoughts to herself, knowing that sharing them wouldn’t exactly get her anywhere, she was simply thankful for the fact of having a friendship with you, only her most deep thoughts coming to the surface when she felt the most alone wishing that it was you by her side instead of the coldness of nothing.

[heliads]

Newt Masterlist

Teasing - Drabble

Not Realizing Newt Was Crushing On You Would Include.. Headcanons

Foxes and Hounds - Based on this request: “Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her and isn’t after her money. Newt needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged.” Bridgerton AU

wckd is good / part two - Based on this request: “modern day AU one-shot where Newt is Venom and the female reader is Spider-Woman.” Marvel AU

What You See - Based on this request: “mordern au!newt whos readers classmate and reader fell for him because of how cute he is and they sit next to each other in class and reader keeps catching newt staring at them and its because he wants to ask them out” Imagine

Overnight - Based on this request: “during bonfire night reader had too many drinks from Gally, accidentally confesses to Newt. Newt gets flustered but reader is too drunk to go back to their own hammock so Newt carries reader and end up sharing a hammock.” Imagine

Survivors - Maze Runner x Hunger Games Crossover

Looking Up - Maze Runner x Top Gun Crossover

What It’s Like - Based on this request: “newt x reader where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire night the boys ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader. newt answers with the utmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!” Imagine

there is no other version of this story - Minho may be protected in the Safe Haven, but he’s never felt more alone. Newt is growing to realize that he will never exist in the Glade without something driving him away from peace. It is difficult to miss the one you love when you are separated by time. Based on the quote ‘someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.’ Minewt Oneshot

Monopoly at Midnight - Based on this request: “modern au newt x reader? the gladers are playing monopoly and it turns into an all-nighter because Minho refuses to let anyone stop. during it, reader, being sleep-deprived, confesses her feelings for newt. in the morning reader doesn't remember but newt does and he confronts her?” Modern AU

Waking, Dreaming - Based on this request: “Newt x fem reader. The characters are high school students. Y/N and her parents move because her father got a new job. She joins Thomas, Newt, Minho, Gally, Alby, Teresa, and Brenda’s friend group. Thomas and Minho are on the boys’ basketball team. Sonya and Harriet are on the girls’ soccer team. Thomas is the valedictorian.” Modern AU

And We Will Try Again - Thomas thinks that watching Newt die will be the worst day of his life, and it is. It’s still the worst when he wakes up just to have to live through it again, and again, and again. He may not understand the time loop, but Thomas does understand this: having to lose Newt so many times is going to kill him. Newtmas Time Loop AU

Trouble and Consequence -  Based on this request: “newt fic with prompts 3 17 25 (‘You know, for a jumpscare to work you have to actually be scary,’ 'From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck,’ and 'Tell me you love me. I need to hear it just the once.’)” Imagine

The Jacket - Based on this request: “Prompts 29 and 33 (’You can say what you want about how you look, but [character]’s jaw literally dropped when they saw you, so clearly something is working.’ and ‘Is that my jacket?’) with Newt from TMR” Imagine

Who Could Stay - Based on this request: “Robin Hood AU, Newt x fem reader. Ava Paige is King John. Janson is the sheriff of Nottingham. Reader is Robin Hood. Thomas, Minho, Gally, and Chuck are the Merry Men. Newt is Marian. He’s a nobleman who the reader falls in love with.” Robin Hood AU

Dating Newt Would Include... Headcanons

Trials of Love Potions - Based on this request: “maze runner AU with the gang at hogwarts! newt x reader where they're both in hufflepuff. in potions they have to make amortentia and they smell each other” Harry Potter AU

Monstrous - Based on this request: “Newt x reader? Y/n has powers like Scarlet Witch, she’s made by WCKD. She was thrown into the maze. She trusted Newt the most. They never knew about her powers until Newt was going to kill himself but he got saved by y/n?” Imagine

Stuck Together - Based on this request: “Newt and Reader don't get along, deep down they care about each other, however they do think that one hates the other. One day they get stuck alone and share a moment, Newt asks why she hates him and Newt kisses her.″ Imagine

Choices - Based on this request: “Newt x Reader where they meet at wicked and then she escapes with newt (who doesn't have the flare) and they get to the safe haven and then they get together” Imagine

Alive - Based on this request: “reader’s the one that runs to help Minho in the maze at night. When she comes back, Newt is furious, because he was SO worried that he would lose her; he starts scolding her, but in the middle of the argument he sobs on her shoulder because he thought he would never see her again." Imagine

A Matter of Confidence - Based on this request: “Newt (tmr) where he likes reader but doesn't know what to do about it or how to deal with his feelings. Then he sees reader with someone else and he gets super sad. She talks to him and he admits what's happening″ Imagine

Safe and Sound - Based on this request: “reader is the first girl in the Glade. Some of the boys there were disrespectful. Newt is the sweetest of them all and the one she grew most attached to. She's everything to him but he doesn't think his feelings are reciprocated." Imagine

All This Time - Based on this request: “Newt x Reader where they're in the glade and reader comes up and is the first girl and everyone's kinda shocked and all and then Newt slowly falls for her but soon reader catches feelings too” Imagine

Some Use - Based on this request: “Newt: The reader is introduced to Ava, and Ava takes a liking to the reader. She gives the reader “special treatment” but it’s just a plan to get information out of the gladers and to use her. Ava tries to use the reader a a test subject but the boys & teresa get there just in time. Imagine

How to Overcome - Based on this request: “Newt x reader in which she feels guilty over everyone they couldn't save and he comforts her? This is after they get out of the Maze or reach the Safe Haven. Newt is alive.” Imagine

Good For Now, Good Forever - Based on this request: “platonic newt & lesbian reader? just them being snarky smart dumbass friends together” Oneshot

Hope For The Best -  Based on this request: “Newt x Reader (TMR) // The reader gets the flare but so does her brother minho and newt panics” Imagine

Hoaxes and Hearts (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) - Based on this request: “AU one-shot where Maze Runner characters are in Shadow & Bone. The pairing is Newt x female reader. Minho is Alina Starkov. Thomas is Mal Oretsev. Y/N L/N is Kaz Brekker. Teresa is Inej Ghafa. Newt is Jesper Fahey. He is Y/N’s boyfriend and a member of the Crows. Gally is the Darkling. Brenda is Genya Safin.” Multi-Part Grishaverse AU

The New Girl - You’ve been able to rely on Newt being there for you since the day you stepped foot in the Glade. Just when you’re about to gather up your courage and tell him how you really feel, another girl shows up in the Box. Imagine

Men and Tea - Based on this request: “newt fic with her using the “I like my men like I like my tea” and everyone’s staring at her until she says “hot and British” and newt is just like “hey I’m British” and she’s like “yeah i know” and he’s all blushy, flustered and cute?” Imagine

The Sting of Avoidance - Based on this request: “Newt x reader: they’re together and instead of thomas st*bbing himself with the griever needle, she does it instead and he gets worried about her” Imagine

Midnight Reassurances - Based on this request: “newt lives AU where him and reader have always had a thing between them but aren’t sure where they stand. one night he asks her to stay the night with him because he has nightmares of cranking out and they confess to each other?” Imagine

In the Long Run - Based on this request: “An AU where Newt is immune to the Flare. Fem reader ended up in the Glade soon after Alby and Newt. She became a runner/ the third-in-command, and she and Newt started dating.” Imagine

Being Miss Misery - Based on this request: “a fic with newt based off mr perfectly fine by taylor swift” Imagine

Never Trust Your Friends - Y/N might have feelings for Newt, the newly arrived blond runner. Newt might have feelings for Y/N, the second in command who’s been in the Glade longer than anyone except Alby. When Minho and Alby assign them both to work together on a project, they’re sure it won’t end well. Imagine

Rainstorm - Y/N and Newt have been best friends ever since she arrived in the Glade. However, she might find that her feelings over the blond boy have changed, especially after the events of a rainy day. Imagine

Into Thin Air -  Newt doesn’t know what to think after Y/N disappears one night in the Scorch. She’s nowhere to be found, until a few weeks later she shows up with the girls from Group B. The only problem is that she can’t remember who Newt is, and all Newt can remember is how much he loves her. Imagine

Are You Happy With Him? -  Y/N is a Med-Jack in the Glade, who happens to be dating Gally. Newt happens to be completely in love with her, but he may have more of a chance with her than he’d first thought. Imagine

[middlechildwhoescapedthebasement]

Now I know I only just slightly mentioned her, but Juniper plays a huge role in the story too. So here's her character outline for you guys! I hope that you enjoy her!

Basics

Name: Juniper Reed Harris

Nicknames: Junie, Dollie, Shortcake, Starshine, Brat, Barbie Jr.

D.O.B: August 6th, 2001

Nationality: Australian

Gender: cis female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Personality type: INFP (really only extroverted when on stage or with people she knows)

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Neruodivergence?: Autistic, ADD

Disabilities?: N/A

Biological Family

Father: Kano Harris (gave himself his last name when he turned 18)

Mother: Amethyst Harris (Mailon) *deceased

Sister(s): didn't know

Brother(s): didn't know

Paternal Grandparents: Unknown status

Maternal Grandparents: Raynor Mailon *deceased, Calia Mailon (Ambrose) *deceased

Aunt(s): N/A

Uncle(s): N/A

Cousin(s): N/A

Relationships with said family?

Kano: She's a MAJOR daddy's girl, has been all her life. These two are a very kickass team together and are a force to be reckoned with. Love each other with all their hearts and Junie would do absolutely anything for him and vice versa

Amethyst: Was very close with her when she was alive, wanted to be just like her when she grew up. They did everything together, from baking to training. Watching her get killed still haunts Junie to this day, especially in her dreams

Paternal Grandparents: Not even Kano knew them sooooo

Calia: Doesn't remember her all that well, but what she does remember is all pleasant. Like her teaching Junie how to do a proper kick to the stomach

Black Dragon

Shocker: Kano won't let her join. He'll let her do certain jobs but that's it. No matter what she will never be allowed to join. He can't bear the thought of losing Junie the same way he lost Amethyst. Those two are the only people he ever truly loved, and he already lost one because she was involved with the clan. But that doesn't stop Junie from hunting down General Blade. Nothing will stop her from hunting Blade. She will not stop until she's dead and her husband and daughter go through what they went through. Junie WILL avenge her mother, and ANYONE who gets in her way is dead. No exceptions.

Trivia

* She's half Outworlder from her mother, who was apart of an endangered species. They're called the Aveteans: All of their senses are heightened to levels that not even some gods have. They look very human apart from their eyes, of which the pupils are shaped like x's. They're most known for their ability to see through anything no matter how thick it is. They're endangered because of Shao Kahn's fear of their power overtaking his.

* Her reason for wanting Sonya dead is simple: Sonya killed her mother and unborn sibling (A/N Sonya didn't know that Amethyst was a mom, let alone pregnant)

* Extremely feminine, loves dressing up and doing her self up. As she says "if I'm gonna kill someone, I need to look drop dead gorgeous as I do it. Otherwise, its pointless"

* Her hyperfixiation is Legend of Zelda, she owns every game and knows the lore like the back of her hand

* She uses soft things to stim, has a lot of baby blankets and stuffed animals

* Is in a band called " Fruit Punch" where she is the lead singer

* She can play the guitar very well

* She has two favorite knives named Juliette and Piper

* Graduated high school at 16. She only did it because she hated school so much that she wanted out as soon as possible

* Her fighting style is a mix of street and knife Melee mixed in with smash a guitar on the opponent

* She has very curly blonde hair that she let's do its own thing

* Purple eyes with the signature x pupils

* Girl is PALE, like you'd think she never went outside type of pale and its filled with freckles

* Is dating Toby, her Prince

* Professional underground gambler, but she never uses her powers as an edge because "the fun is in the wits, not the power"

[writingsbychlo]

guilty pleasures | thomas

word count; 7902

summary; thomas is still reeling over his break up, before meeting newt’s new roommate, and his perspective changes entirely.

notes; ha, enjoy. very little plot here. pretty much just an emotional mess for Tommy. bit of an AU because, y’know, why not? 

warnings; smut.

He couldn’t help the frown on his features. It had been permanently embedded there for two weeks now. His eyes were still slightly sore from the times he had spent rubbing at them aimlessly as he cried, but today, the frown was more out of anger and confusion.

Anger, irrationally, at Newt for not being at his house when Thomas needed him to be. he knew it was stupid of him to be angry at his friend. He was probably running errands or helping his sister move out and in with her girlfriend, as he had been doing for the past few days, but Thomas hadn’t exactly been in a rational place since Teresa had left him. He was confused because the girl had broken up with him out of nowhere, a three-year relationship thrown away because she had decided she just wasn’t feeling a spark anymore, and she was tired of trying. 

She’d packed up all her belongings before Thomas had even gotten home that day, leaving his apartment bare of half the things that were usually in it, and making him feel more alone than ever. She hadn’t spoken to him since that day, and while they hadn’t argued or screamed at each other, a fairly placid break-up, to be fair, she had quickly cut herself off from his life. 

Now, however, she was texting him, and telling him she wanted to look through some of the things they had bought together and see if any of them mattered to her. She could have them, for all Thomas cared. He didn’t want to look at them, he didn’t want them anywhere near him. He hated most of the crap that had been boxed up anyway, he’d only bought it to make Teresa happy, but the only problem was, he didn’t have it anymore. 

After the breakup, Newt had arrived with a cardboard box and gone through his apartment with a ‘fine-tooth comb’, removing any and everything that might remind him of the girl who had walked out on him. The box was sat at Newt’s house, behind the locked door, and Thomas needed it back, while the anger inside him still gave him the confidence to actually go to her place and face her.

With a sigh, he decided fuck it, he would just let himself in, grab the box real quick, and be on his way. Using his foot to push over the ridiculously ugly gnome that sat by the front door, a small silver key was revealed to him, and he swiped it from its position on the stone quickly. Pushing the metal into the lock, he twisted, the door clicking open for him and he replaced the key under the ceramic figure, standing it back up before entering the house.

Pushing the door shut softly behind himself, he was barely three feet into the home before hushed tinkering in the kitchen sounded out, and his eyebrows furrowed. Newt clearly wasn’t home, his car was gone, and Sonya had been moving in with her girlfriend, most likely was Newt wasn’t here in the first place, and so Thomas had expected it to be empty.

Stepping closer to the source of the sound, he peeked into the kitchen, surprised at your figure occupying the space. His eyebrows remained furrowed as he took you in, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, missed chunks falling around your face and tucked behind your ears. A massively oversized shirt hung from your shoulders, practically falling over the edge of one of them as it almost swamped the shorts you wore underneath it.

Turning to face him, his cheeks reddened as your scream snapped him from his curious staring, his gaze leaving your legs to fly back up to meet your eyes. Your hand was clutched to your chest, dry sticks of pasta from the now half-filled bag of spaghetti in your hands were rolling across the floor from where you had jumped in shock, and the frown that had momentarily disappeared from his lips while looking at you was back, guilt crawling in his stomach. 

“Jesus, you scared the life out of me.” You mumbled, placing your spaghetti packet down on the side and using your foot to nudge some of the dropped and useless pieces into a pile on the floor. “Thomas, right?”

“Uh.. yeah?”

“Newt has been telling all about you guys. It wasn’t hard to put it together. Plus, there are pictures of you guys everywhere.” He continued to stare at you sceptically, licking his lips as he took a few steps closer to you. “I’m (Y/N), Newt’s new roommate. Well, housemate.” Leaning over the counter in the middle of the kitchen, you offered your hand to him, and he took it, shaking it gently.

“I’m Thomas, but you already knew that.” Finally, a smile cracked through on his features, only a small one, and it didn’t reach his eyes, which were still full of sadness, but it was something. Placing the spaghetti you still had into the pot of boiling water you had prepared, he watched you silently as you busied yourself around the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d cleaned up the spilt pasta and disposed of it, while he stood in the same spot without speaking, that you faced him again.

“So, what exactly are you here for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh! Of course, my bad. Um.. well- my, um.. my ex. There’s a box of things that Newt took from my apartment when she left me, but she keeps texting me, and she wants them.” He ran a hand through his hair, hands coming up to rub at his eyes as he sighed angrily. “Like, I don’t want them! I only bought them to make her happy, but why didn’t she just take them when she left if she wants them that bad? Is she trying to torture me?”

Pulling open the door of the fridge, you plucked two glass bottles from inside, popping the caps off of both of them and placing one down on the counter before the man. Glancing at the beer you had placed out, he let his lips tug up in the smallest of smiles at the notion, taking the cold glass between his fingers and raising it to his lips as he sat down. 

The silence hung between you both again, and you stirred at the softening pasta gently, before turning your back to him and leaning against the counter beside you. Glancing up from his perch at the island in the centre of the room, his eyes scanned over you once again, shamelessly, before coming up to meet your eyes.

“You can talk to me if you want. It sorta’ seems like you need to talk it out, for your own sake, to understand it all, and I’m here to listen. If you want me to.” You shrugged off the way his eyebrows rose at the offer, instead choosing to busy yourself with your cooking once again. The second his mouth opened, he couldn’t stop the words that were flowing out. He spoke about her before they were dating when they first met in high school. He told you the story of their relationship, all the times they broke up and got back together a day later, and the way they fought, and all the happy moments that fixed them.

By the time you were placing a plate of pasta out in front of him, his cheeks were wet, eyes red, and he was all talked out. Taking a seat across from him, you merely nodded at his mumbled thank you, as he picked up the fork quickly and began to tuck into the food, clearly hungry. “You want my honest opinion, Thomas?” He looked up at you, nodding and taking a sip of his beer as he did. Twirling your pasta around your work, the metal scraped lightly against the ceramic, before the tips of his fingers brushed the back of your hand gently, stilling your movements entirely.

“I can take it, tell me what you think about it all.”

“I.. I think it was doomed from the beginning. You never had time for one another, and ask yourself honestly, did you ever really connect on anything? Or, perhaps you were just trying to make something work, that only started out based on idle fascination in college.” Your words hung heavily in the air, and he swallowed his food thickly, the only sounds filling the room for a few minutes is that of cutlery scraping against plates, and the occasional clink of beer bottled meeting the marble counter as you took a sip of your drinks. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t be. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and I think I needed it. You were right, and I think I always knew we wouldn’t make it, but it still hurts, you know?” 

You did know, you’d had your fair share of bad breakups, unrequited feelings, the whole bunch. He finished his meal, clearing both of your plates away quietly into the dishwasher once you had finished, helping himself to another beer from the fridge as you moved about the kitchen together in easy harmony. 

“You know what always makes me feel better?” You eventually filled the quiet, and his eyes found yours curiously, brows raised. “Getting super drunk and playing video games.” As you said that, his face cracked out in a wide grin, eyes lighting up at the thought. 

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind.”

With a cheeky grin, you cheered happily, leaning up to the top cabinet and pulling the bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf, shaking the half-full bottle side to side. He held his hand up in the air, palm open to you and you swung your hand up to meet his in a high-five. The sounds echoed around the room loudly as you giggled, skipping through to the living room and dropping yourself down onto the couch. 

Unscrewing the cap of the drink, the spicy smell filled the air, and you watched as he darted around the TV in front of you, switching on the console and grabbing two controllers before taking a seat beside you. Holding the bottle out to him, you shook it slightly. 

“The broken-hearted can have the first drink.” With a lopsided grin, he took the bottle from you, raising it to his lips. Latching your fingers underneath, you tipped the bottle upwards, a chuckle leaving his lips as a drip of the liquid ran along his chin. 

“You’re trying to get me drunk.” He teased, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand and you shrugged, setting up the first game that the two of you would be playing. The rim of the bottle pressed against your lips, and you chuckled, turning to look at him as you parted your lips, letting him tip the bottle back as the spirit burned at your throat. “I refuse to be the only drunk one. You’ll have an edge on me at Mario Kart.” 

He winked at you as you shook your head, eyes squeezed shut as your throat burned from the drink. “I’m going to have an edge on you anyway, I’m amazing at this game.” You teased, and he gasped falsely, clutching his chest as he considered your words. Tucking your legs underneath yourself, you ignored the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to the way the large top you wore covered the shorts that had ridden up your thighs, your legs almost entirely exposed to him. 

“I’m taking that as a challenge. Loser of each game has to drink.” He offered, and placed the bottle between the two of you on the coffee table sat before you. Holding out his hand, all fingers other than the pink were closed, that lone finger pointing out in your direction. 

Locking your own pinkie with his, you shook tightly, a cheeky grin on your lips as you loaded up the first game. “Deal.”

You had lost count of how many games you had each won and lost. The tequila had run out a long time ago, and glass bottles were scattered around the living room. His head was across your lap, your fingers weaved into his hair as you laughed loudly, pure joy filling the room as he recounted many stories that only seemed to get more and more entertaining. His shoulders were light, the weight lifted from them finally as he relaxed into your grip even more.

Your head was tipped back, and you were wheezing, trying to pull breath into your lungs as you could not stop yourself from laughing, his chuckles ringing loudly in your ears as he continued to tell you the story that had you cracking up. He paused, sitting up to simply watch you in all your joy and your hand fell from his hair, a pout forming on his lips.

His fingers wrapped around your hand, your eyes opening to look at him as he pressed a kiss to your open palm, before weaving your fingers back into his hair. You swallowed thickly, your cheeks aching from all the grinning but the tension between the two of you was thicker now. 

Your eyes were locked together, the faint music of a Wii console playing in the background and his fingertips dragged along your skin slowly, your hand tightening in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

He was shuffling closer to you, with every movement, his eyes never leaving yours but you could watch them darken the closer he got. One of his hands was now cupping your cheek, the other squeezing at the bare skin of your thigh roughly, fingers pressing into the skin in a grip that sent shivers along your spine. 

Your breaths were mixing now, and when he let his tongue poke out to wet at his lips, the tip licked along your bottom one slowly. Millimetres apart, you could practically taste him already, and your blood was pounding, heart thumping against your ribs. You wanted to close the gap, it was a bad idea, but you were the queen of bad ideas, you were drunk, and it would be such a deliciously guilty pleasure to indulge in.

Before you could allow yourself to make the decision, the house phone hung up on the wall blared loudly through the room, jumping in place, you scrambled to get up, the air around you feeling cold as the close proximity you had held was ripped away by your fleeing. As it reached its fourth ring, you picked it up, shaky hands bring the device to your ear as you cleared your throat. 

The voice on the other end began to speak immediately, and you listened carefully to what they were saying, bracing yourself on the wall as you swayed slightly, your mind still fuzzy from all the alcohol you had consumed. Placing the phone back on the wall, you turned to face Thomas, who had stood up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you as he took slow steps in your direction. 

“Who was it?”

“It was Newt. He isn’t coming back tonight, he had a few drinks at Sonya and Harriet’s, and he shouldn’t drive. He said he’ll be back tomorrow.” Your words were basically whispered, but he heard them perfectly as he closed in on you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your lips as the other found your hip. Backing you up, your back met the wall, the breath leaving your lungs in a shocked huff, his nose nudging against yours.

“So, you’re saying we’re going to be alone all night?” His face morphed into a sly grin as he backed away, enough to look you in the eyes, and you took your lip between your teeth, his gaze immediately honing in on the action. 

“Thomas.. we shouldn’t. You only just got out of a relationship.”

“Three weeks ago.” He murmured, voice low and his body came to rest up against yours, bodies pressed flat together and a low moan slipped from your lips as that comforting heat found your body again, and he let out a deep chuckle at the sound.

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. You’ll regret it. I’m not taking the blame because you needed a rebound fuck, you can’t put that guilt on me.” You whispered, and he nodded slowly, his head dipping down as his lips brushed against yours, barely giving you enough to get even a hint of a taste, and you so craved to know how his mouth tasted. 

“I don’t care how I’ll feel tomorrow. I just care how I feel now. And now-” His hand slid down from your hip, gripping at your knee as he pulled one of your legs up to hook around his waist, somehow pulling the two of you closer. “I just want to fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I want to know how you would feel wrapped around my cock, I want to know what my name would sound like when you scream it, I want to know how it would feel as shake and twitch under my fingers. I want to know how it feels when you fall apart under my touch.”

“Screw it.” You closed the gap, a low moan rumbling from his mouth and into yours as your hands came up to wrap around his shoulders, lifting yourself up to kiss him properly. His lips were wet and soft, moving against yours quickly, a delicate kiss that only sent excitement running down your spine. 

He sucked on your lower lip, pulling away to nibble on it slightly and you whimpered under him, his grip on your thigh tightening in response. His eyes opened to meet yours once again, and just like that, everything shifted. 

He was diving into you again, lips and tongues clashing together, and he sighed into you. His fingers slipped up from your leg to grope at your ass, fingers slipping under the denim of your shorts and nails scraping at your supple skin. His other hand dropped from holding your face, skimming along the back of your other leg as he pinched, your body jumping up with faith, and he caught you securely.

Your heels were digging into his ass, feeling it shift with every step he took until your back was meeting the cushions of the couch, his body centimetres from yours as he held himself up to look at you, fingers weaving through your hair as his hot pants washed over your face. “God, you’re so beautiful.” You smiled slightly, his finger tracing down over your jaw, before tracing over your lips, stopping in the centre. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you cum for me, kitten.”

“Holy shit..” The words slipped from you by accident, but he took the opportunity of your parted lips to slip two of his fingers into your mouth. You closed your lips around them eagerly, sucking on them and swirling around the digit, soaking them. His jaw was hanging open, eyes hooded with lust as you did so and he retracted them with a pop.

Sitting back, he kneeled over you, fingers swiftly pushing up the shirt you wore to find the button on your jean shorts, popping it slowly and dragging the zipper down. Slipping his fingers under the fabric, they pushed straight past your panties, meeting your wet folds and a loud moan left you at the contact, your hips bucking up into him. 

“You’re already soaked, kitten, and we haven’t even started yet. You’re dripping, making such a mess. What a pretty sight it is.” His tone was condescending, and you couldn't help but love it. Arousal was dripping from every word that left his tongue, only flooding you more as heat crawled along your skin, a whine leaving you as he barely brushed his finger against your clit. 

“Tommy, do something!” You begged, and he cooed down at you, free hand coming up to palm at your tits through your shirt as a single finger slipped into you, slowly and teasingly until he was buried to the knuckle. 

“No bra? I knew it. Your tits have been bouncing about under here with every move you’ve made, I’ve been half-hard just watching you move about since the second I walked in here.” His thoughts were spewing out loud, but the way he was twisting and curling his finger was already building you up, and you were clenching around the slender digit, body begging for something more. 

He seemed to hear your plea, another finger pushing into you and a cry of his name left your lips, happiness lacing the sigh you followed it with as pleasure raced through your body, igniting every nerve and cell it met. He scissored the digits, twisting his arm as he picked up speed, easing his fingers in and out of you as he stretched you out until they were slamming into you roughly.

The material of your jeans was burning against his skin as he jolted his wrist at rapid paces, but watching the way you bit down on your lip, the way your head was tipping back and digging into the cushions or the way his name sounded falling from your lips, it made the burn worth it. He could feel your arousal, leaking from you, the way your walls were squeezing his fingers and he could only imagine just how good you would feel clenched around his cock, milking him of everything he had to give. 

Slipping his thumb up, he flicked it against your clit, barely pressing down before you called out to him, your fingers digging into the material of the couch, scratching it at as you clawed at it, fisting the material between your fingers as you came. Juices were dripping down his fingers, wet sounds filling the room as he pulled his hands from your shorts, your body still twitching and your chest rising and falling at high speeds as you tried to catch your breath. 

He took his fingers into his mouth, licking you clean and moaning at the taste of you, his own eyes sliding shut as he savoured your essence on his tongue. “You taste, incredible. I can’t wait to bury my face between your pretty thighs as they clamp around my head as you shake and moan for me.”

“Maybe later..” Your hand came out, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your lips were brushing his tantalisingly, not in a kiss, just enough to tease him, and as he leaned forward to close the gap, you pulled away. “Right now, I just need your cock buried so deep within me that I’m seeing stars.”

A low growl left him as he stood, pulling you to your feet before him and taking your hand in his. The shorts that had been sitting on your waist loosely fell to the ground, and you stepped out of them, flicking them up with your foot and not bothering to check where they landed. He trailed your hand along his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the evidence of a well-toned and defined body beneath the fabric, your fingers twitching to rip the shirt from him so you could see, but he only took your hand lower.

The tips of your fingers met denim, and he lowered your hand over the bulge in his pants, squeezing your hand in his and groaning lowly. “That’s what you do to me, kitten. ‘M gon’ fuck you so good, no guy will ever be able to fuck you the way I do, ever again. You’ll be all mine.”

“Make me yours, Thomas. Show me what you’ve got.” His fingers popped the button on his jeans swiftly, yanking the zip down and his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans and his boxers, pushing them down to his ankles as your hand found his chest, pushing him back until he was sitting on the couch. 

Turning your back to him, your own fingers played with the hem of your panties, your ass in his face as you bent over to push them along your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, tugging and pumping at it with speed as he watched you, hooded eyes focused on your dripping core. With his free hand, he found your hip, pulling backwards until you were sitting in his lap, his cock pressed between your back and his stomach, his hand still working over himself.

Lifting yourself up on shaky legs, he dragged his tips against your folds, swirling in the wetness you had for him before lining the head of his cock up with you, and you sank down onto him, a whine leaving your lips as you did. “You are so god damn tight.” His breath had been forced from his lungs, eyes rolled back in his head as your drenched heat surrounded him, already hugging him tight and you weren’t even moving yet.

Leaning forward, your hands found his legs, locking on for grip as you began to roll your hips back into his, the feeling of your walls moving against every inch of him causing both of you to moan wantonly into the hot and thick air. It was raw and needy, and purely pent up sexual frustration from the second the two of you had laid eyes on one another, but God was it good.

His fingertips were digging into your flesh as he gripped your hips, and you were sure you were going to be covered in fingerprints tomorrow, from the way he held your hips to the way he grasped your thighs, and the thought only excited you more. Circling your hips, he let out a strangled moan as you clenched around him, his fingers flexing on your hip as he bucked up into you slightly. 

A small whine left his lips when you slowed the pace to tease him, and he thrust up into you as best he could, a chuckle leaving your lips at his neediness. His hands circled across to the front of your body, sliding up over your stomach to grip at your tits roughly, pawing at the palmfuls in his hands as you mewled loudly at the sensation. 

You had stopped moving all together now, your walls clenching around him every time he squeezed at the mounds on your chest, electricity shooting through you as he pulled you into him, your back meeting his chest. “Kitten, I do not like to be teased. Unless you pick up the pace, I will flip you over and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.” He nipped at your earlobe as he said it, before leaving a wet and sloppy kiss against your jaw, your head tilting to give him more access.

Your hips began to move again, bouncing up and down on his lap, his cock sliding from within you before slamming back in each time, your breathless moans filling the room as he grunted in your ear. “Oh, yeah? What would you do?”

“Firstly, I would bend you over this couch and mark up that pretty little ass of yours. I think it would just look so good, glowing cherry red as my cock was buried in your tight little pussy. Handprints all over your skin, showing everyone exactly who you belong to.” Your eyes rolled back at the simple words, and your head rolled onto his shoulder, your legs growing tired as you shook in his grasp. His fingers slid back long your stomach, one hand guiding your hips in a lazy rhythm as the others came to play with your clit, flicking and pinching the little bundle of nerves.

“W-What else?”

“Hmm, well, I think you’d just look so good covered in lovebites, so I’d mark you up real nice, just for me to see. I’d fuck you ‘til you were screaming and shaking, begging me to stop but also begging me for more, and then, you can get on your knees while I fuck this beautiful mouth of yours until I cum, and you can swallow it all like the good girl I know you are.” His fingers pinched at your clit as he reached the end of his sentence, a cry leaving your lips as you jumped in his grasp.

The muscles in your stomach were tightening, that familiar tingling was crawling from your core and along every muscle in your body. “Please, Tommy..”

“Please, what, kitten?”

“Please fuck me like you said you would.” He seemed to pause for a moment, his nose nuzzling at your shoulder gently as he placed a kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay.” 

The minute he had spoken, you were lifted from him, a displeased whine leaving you as his cock slipped from your wet core, leaving you to clench around nothing as he spun you around. Dropping you over the couch, your knees met the cushions as your arms lay against the back, and you scrabbled to hold yourself up against it as he fingers smoothed over your ass. Pulling his hand back, he brought it down in a harsh slap, your body jolting forwards as a long moan left your lips, the skin stinging as the pain added to the pleasure infinitesimally. 

He repeated the action, twice more, until your legs were rubbing together, slickness coating the inside of your thighs as you tried to relieve yourself of some of the aching need. His hands skimmed along your legs as he leaned over you, kissing along your back before prying your legs apart, coolness sweeping over your heat. 

He lined himself back up, nudging himself against your clit, just to watch the way you would beg and plead him, before finally, he slammed himself back inside of you, deep and full. His name left your lips in a cry, your bottom lip held prisoner between your teeth as he set a bruising pace, hips slamming in and out of you.

One hand wrapped in your hair, pulling you upwards roughly as his other hand slipped around your waist to hold you up against him tightly. Each thrust was knocking the air from your lungs, your body giving in to him entirely as his mouth found your neck. He was sucking, biting and licking at every bit of skin he could find, your body littered with marks, just for him. 

Your hand came up behind you, your fingers lacing into his hair and tightening, the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp had his hips stuttering, faltering in their pace as he groaned, and you tugged, his lips leaving your neck. “‘M so close. Kiss me, Tommy.”

He didn’t make you ask twice, his lips descending on yours, and the messy exchange could barely be described as a kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours, his hands coming up to plays with your tits, fingers tugging at your nipples and you came, your core holding around him so tightly he could barely move as he gasped into your mouth. Your eyes were rolling back, the tip of his cock pressed to your g-spot when he stilled and you spasmed in his arms, body jerking as the most intense orgasm you had ever had torn through your body.

Your head was spinning, and he slowly fucked you through the last seconds of our climax, dragging it out for as long as he could, the sounds of you screaming his name until your throat was raw being the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Finally, he pulled out, and you collapsed onto the couch cushions, body still twitching. He grunted behind you, his hand working over himself rapidly, fingers and cock glistening with your arousal and the sight alone had heat flushing your body.

He was a fucking masterpiece. 

Your fingers came out shakily, gripping his wrist to slow his pace to a halt and his eyes opened to see you as you lowered yourself to the ground before him, a hazy smirk on your lips as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Thought you wanted to fuck my ‘beautiful mouth’?” Your wink urged him into action, and he pressed his hard member against your lips, groaning happily when you parted them for him to slip between. His fingers laced into your hair, his hips stuttering as he tested how far he could bury himself.

“H-Holy shit.” You gagged around him as he tapped the back of your throat, and you pushed yourself forward until your nose was brushing against the hairs as the base of his cock, feeling him twitch and throb in your mouth as desperate pleas fell from his lips. Pulling back, he slowly thrust into your mouth, his fingers pulling at your hair, your scalp burning as tears ran down your face and saliva ran down your chin, but the sounds he was making made it all worth it.

Watching him crumble above you, was a sight that you would never forget, your core already begging for more. Coming up to grip at his thighs, your nails scraped at his skin, and he exploded. Reams of hot cum shot from his tip, covering your tongue and the insides of your cheeks as you hummed around him, causing him to release a broken moan as he gave you everything he had. 

You swallowed around him happily, licking and sucking him clean as you pulled back until finally, he left your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’. His hand was held out to you lazily, pulling you to your feet and his arms looped around your waist, his nose nuzzling against your temple as he sighed happily. “That was fucking incredible, kitten.”

You merely hummed, anxiety coursing through your body as you were beginning to think a little more clearly, and you pulled away from him, your cheek leaving the soft material of the shirt he’d never even taken off as you stepped back. Looking around yourself, you located your panties on the floor, tugging the lace up your legs and avoiding his eye. Gathering up all the empty bottles you could find, you ignored the rustling of his jeans as he pulled them back up his legs, and instead made your way to the kitchen. 

Disposing of the bottles in the bin, you spun around, shocked slightly to find him to have followed you, his body almost pressed up against yours as he looked at you. “Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

You laughed gently at his words, your hands wringing together in front of you. “I don’t normally do this. I’m trying to make it easier for you to leave, so we don’t have to talk about it. Make it weird.” 

“Leave? Why would I leave?” He stepped closer, his fingers finding your waist as he pulled you into him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt and you avoided his eye. 

“I figured now that we were done, you’d feel better, and you’d want to leave.”

His fingers found a place under your chin, tipping your face up until you were looking at him and he smiled at your softly, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m not going anywhere. I kinda’ want to cuddle. I’m getting tired.” You smiled, shaking your head at him fondly and his own smile widened when he saw yours. Leaning forward, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, fingers slipping down from your hips to squeeze as your ass. “Besides, you promised me you’d let me bury my head between your thighs, and I haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“Oh, fuck..” You murmured, and he hummed happily, kissing at your cheek as he pulled away. 

“Upstairs, clothes off, on your bed. I’ll come find you, I’ll lock the front door and turn the lights off, m’kay?” You nodded quickly, letting him place a gentle kiss to your lips before you took off up the stairs. You could hear him tinkering about behind you, and you had had barely stripped your shirt from your head when his feet began hitting the stairs. 

Pushing your panties back down your legs, you threw them in the vague direction of your laundry hamper, the door pushing open as you turned to face him. He paused, his gaze raking over you slowly and he swallowed thickly at the sight of you. “God, look at you..” His hand ran over his jaw, before he tugged his own shirt up and over his head, throwing it away onto the floor.

Your eyes scanned over his torso, taking in the defined lines of toned muscle, and the dark patches of hair on his chest, and the trail leading down into his undone jeans. Your fingers reached out to him, and he stepped forward to meet you, your touch grazing over his skin so light he could barely feel it. 

“I thought I said I wanted you on the bed by the time I got up here?” You had no chance to reply as he leaned down, scooping your legs out from under you and tossing you back into the cushions and quilts on your bed. A squeal left your lips as you landed, and you made to shuffle back up the bed but his hand locked around your ankle, pulling you until your ass was hanging over the edge as he knelt on the floor between your legs. 

Kissing his way up to your thigh slowly, you squirmed in his grasp, an unhappy whine leaving your lips as he did so. Biting at the skin gently, he finally reached where you wanted him, and he blew cold air against you, chuckling darkly at the way your hips bucked up, a gasp sounding from you. 

Without warning, his arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs, tongue swiping through your folds to suck at the wetness that was already building and you moaned, hips jumping as your hands came down to thread into the dark, fluffy hair on his head. His nose nudges against your clit before he moved up to suck the swollen bud between his lips harshly. His name echoed from the walls of the room as you moaned it wantonly, the feeling of his mouth swirling and sucking at your wetness had you landing on cloud nine.

You rolled your chips upwards, grinding your hips into his face and he released something between a growl and hum against you, the feeling shooting along your body and setting your nerves alight. You were covered in goosebumps, body jumping and writhing wildly in his grasp as he pinned your hips to the bed. 

Circling your entrance with his tongue, he pushed the muscle into you just slightly, letting you clench around it before he retracted it, teasing you mercilessly as you whimpered and begged for him. Finally, he gave into to you cries, plunging his tongue into you and your back arched up, leaving the bed as your fingers pulled at his hair. The sounds you were making only spurred him on, his mouth moving against you like you were his last meal as he hungered for everything you were giving him, licking you clean and moaning into your core as he went.

Your climax was building rapidly, and one of the hands holding your waist slipped down, fingers pinching at your clit and rolling it between the pads, the stimulation throwing you into another orgasm. You jerked in his grasp as you came, letting him lick you clean until the feeling of his mouth on your centre was too much, and you were pushing yourself backwards up the bed and away from his touch. 

He looked up at you as you sighed happily, thoroughly spent and fucked out as you lay among the blankets, and he stood up, dropping his jeans to join the pile on the floor before crawling up the bed, collapsing next to you lazily with an arm slung over your waist. You were too tired to even pull the blankets over yourself, never mind get dressed, and you let him pull you back into his chest.

He did the work, tugging the sheets up and over our bodies as you settled into his warmth, his lips pressing occasional kisses to the back of your neck as your eyes drooped. Whatever you had to deal with tomorrow sounded like a bridge you’d cross when you reached it, but right now, you were happy just falling asleep in his arms as he held you.

You awoke with a sudden start, your eyes snapping open and you became vaguely aware of the unusual but comfortable warmth around you. Twisting slowly under the arm that was around your waist, you turned to face the man sleeping beside you, his features softened and at ease as he slept peacefully beside you.

His lips were pouted slightly in his sleep, eyebrows raised, and you traced your finger along the bridge of his nose carefully, lightly enough not to wake him before lifting his arm from your waist, rolling from the bed quietly and replacing your form with a pillow. Tugging a fresh pair of pantied up your legs and a fresh shirt over your head, you ran your fingers through your hair to tame it, before making your way down the stairs quietly.

You had set off the bacon, sausages keeping warm on plates as the toast cooked, and you tapped an egg against the side of the pan, cracking it before releasing the contents into the hot oil to sizzle. Hands found your waist, circling to rest on your stomach as you were pulled back into a warm chest. “Good morning, beautiful.”

He’d pulled his own shirt on, leaving his jeans on the floor as he’d made his way downstairs, and he pressed a kiss to the back of your head before making his way over to the fridge. 

Pulling a carton of fruit juice from inside, he held it up to you for approval before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet beside your head and pouring you both a glass, setting them out on the island before making his way back to you. His knuckles ran over your arm as he leaned against his hip on the counter, watching you as you watched the food, not looking up to him. “You’re being all quiet and anxious again. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just figured you would be running as fast as you could right now when you sobered up and realised what you did.” Yu eventually spoke to him, and his touch on your arm stilled for a second before his fingers dropped to find yours, lacing them together gently.

“When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I had been in a long time. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if you would have been there with me, still in my arms.” You turned to look at him, giving him a sceptical look as you turned the hob off, reaching for a set of plates before he stopped you, turning you to face him fully. “I think I connected with you more in one drunken night - before we fucked - than I ever did with Teresa, and that’s the truth. I don’t want to rush into anything, but for now, I’d really like if we could have breakfast, and just be happy.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, your lips parted as you jaw hung loose slightly and a hopeful smile flicked at his features as he watched you. Leaning in, the breath between you both shared as his nose bumped against yours, waiting for your permission before you closed the gap, a soft sigh leaving him as you did. He moved his lips against your own slowly, smiling into the kiss as he pulled away, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. 

The sound of keys in the front door had both of your eyes widening, and as the sound of the lock opening startled you more, you backed away from one another, your cheeks flushing as you turned back to the stove, Thomas standing awkwardly in the kitchen, unable to move before Newt approached the doorway, looking through the letters in his hands. 

“Hey, you got some-” He paused as he finally looked up, eyes narrowing as he took in Thomas standing in the middle of the room, your back to him as you searched the cupboards for plates. “Tommy, hey.”

“Hey, Newt..”

“Where are your pants, mate?” Thomas’ head dropped to look at his boxer clad legs before back up to his friend, and you snickered into the cupboard, pulling out three plates and laying them on the counter before you, deciding you were clearly going to have to split the food three ways now.

“He came over to see you yesterday, but you weren’t here, so he stayed for a few drinks and didn’t want to drive home drunk.” You shrugged, and Newt hummed, pouring his own glass of juice before taking a seat at the counter. Thomas sat opposite him, cheeks still flaming red. “That doesn’t explain why you have no pants on. Why are you chasing my housemate around in your underwear?” He was teasing now, and you cleared your throat, placing a plate of food down in front of him to distract him and it seemed to work as he tucked in hungrily. You served yourself and Thomas up some breakfast as well, taking a seat and trying to avoid the tension in the air. Newt wasn’t even looking up when he next spoke, but it caught you off guard; “Nice hickies, Tommy.”

Your eyes looked to the boy’s neck, brows furrowed as his skin sat clean and Thomas lifted the salt shaker from the middle of the counter up, using it’s slightly distorted reflection to look at his neck. “I don’t have any hickies?”

“No, but (Y/N) does.” Your hands flew up to your neck as Thomas looked over, wide-eyed, before his face just cracked into a smirk, a chuckle leaving his lips and Newt proudly ate his food, looking between the two of you. “Your shorts are still hanging off the back of the couch love. Saw ‘me when I came in.”

Your head dropped into your hands in embarrassment, both of the boys laughing lowly as you cursed, whining at their continued amusement. When you finally looked back up, Newt was just shaking his head as he ate his food, and Thomas winked at you, pushing a forkful of bacon into his mouth. 

“At least I don’t have to set you up on that blind date, now. Seems you found her all by yourself.” 

Thomas’ eyes found yours again, and this time they were filled with something more, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you, swallowing his food thickly before turning back to his friend. 

“Yeah, I did. She’s perfect for me.”

[trying-write-fanfics]

Hitoshi Shinso X Reader part 3

“Good that you three are together. I was wondering while you guys wait for your ride, do you want to watch how class 2-A trains?” Aizawa offered.

“Yeah that seems fine.” Blaze said.

They were going to watch them.

“It’s like our own little sports festival.” Benny said.

“Wait, they're gonna watch us?” Kamanri asked.

“Yeah, they may be able to give you guys some pointers.” Aizawa said.

The three students were introduced to class 1-A and that was already a distraction enough, but Aizawa was able to tame the students down. They were going to watch so that they may learn something or they can teach his class something. It was as simple as that. 

Shinso was paired up with Midoriya for combat training. He felt the eyes of the three on him. Benny scoffed at how the training wasn’t intense enough, or that as what he could hear.

“Are you even trying to fight? You two are playing footsies not fighting!” Benny said. 

“If you have comments, maybe you should fight them.” Blaze said. 

“What, you’re not in proper attire!” Midoriya said. 

“If you’re scared you can watch my magic. I bet you’re not scared Scento.” Benny said

“Sorry…” L/n said again, cringing at her mistake. 

“Yeah I’d fight you.” Shinso said, ignoring all logic in his mind. 

 They took separate sides of the space. Shinso examines the male. He reviewed what he knew about the boy. He was built like a bull and has had different training, but isn’t enrolled in an official hero program. Shinso may be behinded, but what could this loudmouth know? 

  “Go!”

 Benny started charging and all time seemed to happen too fast. He heard a yell and another minute he was on the floor. His whole face hurt. 

“That was a little much don’t you think, Benny boy?” Blaze criticized.

“You should have at least told him your quirk.”

“I don’t think if he knew my quirk it would save him.” Benny laughed. 

 Shinso felt two hands cupping his cheeks raise his head and set it down. The pulsing in his face changed from intense to soothing. 

“That was still too hard, Benny!” 

Shinso’s eyes opened and his head was in L/n’s lap. She was holding his face and he was starting to understand at least what her quirk may be. Shinso could hardly breathe knowing his position with a literal stranger. 

“Ah look at you (nickname), you’re scaring him!” Blaze said. 

“You gotta ask before you start healing people, buddy. They’re gonna think you’re a graby little perv.” Benny said. 

L/n grew embarrassed at her own impulsiveness. She jumped back letting Shinso hit his head on the cement. He let out a little grunt as L/n got to her feet.

“Ah-! Sorry! Again.” First the bad new name but not crossing boundaries and dropping heads.

Shinso stared at the three people looking down at him. One embarrassed, one talking to the embarrassed one, and the other actually looking down at him. 

“Let me help you up, since I knocked you down.” Benny grabbed Shinso’s arm pulling him to his feet in a soft motion. “You Feeling alright? ”

“You did punch me in the face.” Shinso said. “What is your quirk?”

“Nothing flashy, I can walk on walls.” He said. “I can’t fly but I can defy gravity.”

 Yeah, that was not gonna save Shinso from being punched down. Then everyone looked at Blaze since she was the only one who didn’t show her quirk. 

“What?” Blaze asked.

“I think you should tell Shinso your quirk, Sonny.” L/n said.

“I didn’t say I wanted to fight him nor did I feel compelled to heal him.” Blaze explained.

“She can set her whole body on fire, and show fire balls at people. She calls it flame body!” L/n explained with a fun gesture to Shinso. 

“Flame body is that the quirk or hero name?” Midoriya asked.

“Holy shit I forgot about you!” Benny laughed. 

“It my quirk name. I still haven’t figured out a hero name, but L/n is thinking about Cure-girl or agent-heal.” Blaze said in a mocking tone. “My name is Sonya Blaze so I can just use that if I wanted to.”

“I still think it should be fire-swan.” Benny said. 

“I don’t know anything about swans.”

“You’re mean like one and you hiss. Like a cobra chicken.”

“Or Fire Phoenix.” L/n said. 

“You guys don’t have your hero names picked out yet?” Mirodriya asked. 

 He had already started taking notes on the three of them but he wanted to title their hero names. 

“No we didn’t know we were gonna make it this far.” Benny said. 

 “Really, you were watching us like you’re better than us.” Shinso said not intending to be as sassy as he was. 

“Yeah, I had to control my quirk better before I used it around people, and to fill other gaps we’ve focused on more combat and hero laws. You guys have a more balanced schedule, I think.” Blaze explained. “After I use my quirk, my nerves are shot and I can’t even walk that well.”

“Tell me more!” Midoriya asked. 

 Blaze started explaining to Midoriya about her quirk and why she didn’t apply to hero courses. During orientations at hero schools, it was hard for them to give her hope that they could accept someone who could hardly control a destructive quirk and after using that quirk she couldn’t walk. Most of her training in the beginning was to gain control and while that was too much she learned skills to not rely on her quirk. In the beginning she kept pushing her limits and wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. She missed school but still kept up with her homework.  It’s a dangerous quirk, but to sculpt her own hero program is society’s ideal because if she fell through the cracks and wanted to become a villain, she would be a hard person to stop. After all the drama of 1-A’s first year with the league of villains, Blaze’s family was glad she didn’t go there. Her relationship with L/n is important because her healing magic can fix Blaze’s nerves faster. The trio plans to be a hero group. 

“Why didn’t you go to UA?” Shinso asked Benny.

“All the guys in my family went to my high school, so I do too. Besides, I'm making good connections there.” Benny responded. 

“That’s all?” Midoriya was a little disappointed. 

“Out of all of us, (nickname) almost did go to UA.” Benny nudged L/n. “She came here for orientation and even qualified for recommendation exams.”

“Really? You weren’t turned down? You could have been a recovery girl’s mentor?” Midoriya asked. 

“I just...it wasn’t for me.” She said sheepishly. 

Shinso came to his own conclusion that L/n worried she would make her friends upset for going to the prestigious hero school while they either didn’t want to upset their family, or had enough self control to handle their own quirk before coming to this school. However he was wrong, but didn’t know it yet.

“That’s what you’re telling them!” Blaze asked. 

“Well it was so long ago.” L/n replied. 

Aizawa came to the three students and asked them questions. It was standard stuff, was what his class was doing close to what they were doing and what heroes were they being trained from. The class was surprised how much Aizawa cared for those three. He let them know their ride was there, so they started to gather their things.  L/n was the falling behind as she got distracted or zoned out. Shinso took that chance.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Welcome to Oblivion--Ch. 24

Chapter 24

           Spring semester classes picked up amid a foot of snow and temperatures well below freezing. It was so odd being back in the dorm. I’d spent most of my winter break crashing with Roman and Dean at their apartment. Of course, I’d driven back home to see my parents on Thanksgiving and then for a few days at Christmas. Luckily, those days had coincided with Roman’s trip to Florida to visit his family. Seth dipped out to Iowa to see his folks. Dean put off his trip to Ohio as long as he could, but he ended up leaving the same day that I did.

           Sonya’s stuff was dumped on her bed when I dragged my suitcase into our shared room. A box of donuts sat on my desk, a note propped in front of it. Welcome back, roomie. Schedules showed up. Looks like we’ve got a class together!

           For the first time, I noticed the envelope beside the box of sweets. I smiled ruefully, realizing that Sonya had opened it for me. Students at Grand Mountain took some kind of active elective, but since I was working with the Poms, I’d gotten a waver from the requirement. But Sonya had talked me into signing up for a kickboxing course with her. I guess we’d both gotten a spot.

           A loud banging on the door that lead to the bathroom we shared with our suitemates drew my attention. I yanked the door open, unsurprised to find Ember on the other side. The yellow and orange streaks in her hair were brighter than before break. She must have redone them recently.

           “Come on in,” I said, grinning. She threw her arms around me and hugged me hard.

           “We didn’t think you’d come back,” she said calmly, pulling out my desk chair and plopping down in it. Ember propped her feet up on the edge of the desk, but not before stealing a chocolate-frosted donut from the box.

           I stopped, right in the middle of tossing my suitcase up on my bed. “Who didn’t? Did you think I was going to drop out or something?”

           Ember rolled her eyes and spoke around the huge bite she’d just taken. “Sonya and Drew had a betting pool going,” she mumbled. “He figured you’d be shaking up with Ro and Dean.”

           The way she said it made me suspicious. “Ember, how many people know about that? About me, Ro, and Dean?”

           She waved her hand in the air as if it wasn’t a big deal. “The entire hall. All the way up.”

           I sank onto the edge of the bed. My heart skipped a beat. “Jesus. If the entire hall knows, the whole campus will know by the time classes start tomorrow.”

           “Don’t worry about it. It’s nobody’s business.” She watched me with her preternaturally bright eyes. I could never quite get a fix on their color. “You don’t have to tell anyone anything. But I can’t lie… a lot of us are curious about how… it’s not every day that you know someone who’s dating two people at once and it’s all out in the open.”

           “It’s not really out in the open, Ember.”

           “You know what I mean,” she replied, snatching another donut. “You guys aren’t going around behind each other’s backs. Everybody is on the up and up.”

           I rolled my eyes and flopped back on the bed, narrowly missing cracking my head against the wall. “It’s weird. Like, when we’re together—just us… well, sometimes Seth is hanging out with us, too… it all feels pretty normal. It’s not a big deal for me to go on a date with Ro or with Dean, but the thought of going out with both of them at the same time… it frightens me. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it, but I’m afraid of what people are going to say about them. Ro has a strong position on the team. I don’t want campus gossip to mess that up for him.”

           The door opened just then, and Sonya spilled into the room with her girlfriend Peyton in tow. My roommate grinned and stepped back out into the hallway. Her voice echoed through the entire hall. “Pay up, McIntyre! She’s back!”

           Groaning, I lifted my head to look at her. “Seriously? I thought Ember was joking.”

           Sonya practically shoved my suitcase to the floor before bouncing up on the bed beside me cross-legged. Peyton hopped up to sit beside Ember on my desk. “Nah. Scottie owes me a hundred bucks.”

           “So, what’s it like?” Peyton asked, curiosity in her bright, wide eyes. “Have you guys…?” She wiggled her eyebrows and held up three fingers.

           “No!” I exclaimed, not sure whether I was insulted or intrigued by the idea. “That’s not how… we haven’t…”

           Ember gave Peyton a playful slap on the knee. “Ignore her, Addy. She’s got her mind in the gutter all the time lately.”

           Sonya grinned. “That’s why we’ve been having so much fun.”

           Peyton pulled a face that made me want to crawl under the bed and never come out. “Ew. Both of you. Shut up.”

           “But come on,” Peyton cajoled, her Australian accent becoming a bit more pronounced. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

           My immediate response was to shout an emphatic no. But I couldn’t. Because she was right… I had thought about it. More than once. And apparently, my silence was answer enough.

           “I knew it,” she exclaimed, pointing at me. “And I guarantee that they’ve thought about it, too.”

           While it wasn’t easy to see me blush, I was sure that there was heat rushing beneath my skin. I ducked my head and tried very hard not to focus on the images that were already playing around in my head.

***

           “What’s up, Addy?” came a familiar voice behind me in the coffee shop line. I turned to see Seth Rollins standing just over my shoulder, dressed in a grey hoodie, black leather jacket, and a black beanie. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, a grin on his face. His cheeks were bright red above the line of his beard.

           I huddled further into my coat, which I’d tugged on over Roman’s Pirates hoodie. “Not my body temperature, that’s for sure.”

           He laughed, and I noticed the fact that there was a gap between his front teeth. “You think this is bad? It’s what… twenty-eight degrees outside? Ha!” He rocked back on his heels before pushing me a few steps forward. The line was moving. “It was nine degrees in Iowa this weekend.”

           Smirking, I looked him up and down. “And yet you’re bundled up like you’re going to the Arctic.”

           “Cold is still cold, Addy.”

           I shrugged and smiled. My turn came, and I grabbed Seth by the wrist. “Come on, your caffeine fix is on me today.”

           Seth grinned. “Far be it from me to turn you down. Ro and Dean would kill me for making you unhappy.”

           “Bullshit,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just order your damn coffee.”

           I was impressed by his order—it was almost as insane as mine. Maybe Roman was right. Maybe I was a bigger caffeine addict than Seth Rollins. Still, the barista looked strangely at both of us when we ordered four extra shots of espresso in our already caffeine-laden concoctions. Once we had them, we wound our way past the line that had stretched out the door while we waited.

           We found a spot in the student center and stepped out of the way of people pouring in and out. I cupped my hands around the cup and tipped it carefully up against my lips. Seth didn’t bother. He took a big sip and sighed, as if all was right with the world.

           “So, what do your classes look like this semester?” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

           I dug my schedule out of my bag. While I’d picked up my books the day before, I hadn’t really paid attention to timing. “Let’s see, I’ve got history of post-Roman Europe, pre-calculus, astronomy two and the lab, kickboxing, English composition, and intro to international politics.”

           His head nodded toward the paper in my hand. “When do you have the politics class?”

           I glanced over the schedule one more time. “Tuesday and Thursday at eleven with Dr. Depaul.”

           “Me, too. Nice!” He held up his hand and I gave him a high five. “Maybe I won’t fail polisci this semester!”

           I rolled my eyes, checking the clock. “I’ve got English in ten. See you around, Rollins.”

***

           At noon, I practically ran across campus to the student center. Not only was I desperate for warmth, but I was starving. I’d gone through English and pre-calculus that morning, and I had history at one. I was desperate to get some food in me before I had to sit through lectures about the Visigoths and the unification of the Franks. Plus, practice started again this afternoon, and I wasn’t going to get anything to eat until well afterward.

           I ran up the steps to the second floor, surprised to find the line ridiculously long already. I caught sight of a familiar face near the front of the line. Thank God for football players, I thought just as I shouted, “Hey, Highlander!”

           Drew turned around, a smirk on his face. When he saw me, he waved me up. No matter what people said, college wasn’t entirely different from high school. Athletes still ruled the place. And I suppose it didn’t hurt that Drew was six-foot-five and looked like he could bench press a full-grown grizzly.

           He wrapped me in a warm hug and tucked me in front of him in the line. “You cost me a hundred bucks, Addy,” he said playfully.

           “Oh, ye of little faith,” I replied, scanning my ID card as we slid in the door. I was overcome with the sweet scent of lasagna and garlic bread. “Dear sweet baby Jesus, that smells good.”

           Drew laughed out loud. “Go on, then, lass. I’m not getting beaten to a pulp in practice because you fainted from malnutrition.”

           “Why does everyone think Ro and Dean are going to hurt them because of me?” I asked, walking backwards toward the main line.

           “Because one is a big ass football player and the other is an insane cage fighting shmuck?” I knew that voice. I swept around, grinning. Dean stood there in a leather jacket and beanie, backpack over his shoulder. Roman wasn’t far behind, balancing a tray loaded down with food.

           “Come on, princess,” he said, grinning. “We’ve got lunch handled.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @vebner37​ @lilred91​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @maelleoute​

[bethhxrmon]

do flowers exist at night? -chapter nine

Chapter Nine: Here Comes The Rain Again

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: Exactly one month after the events of the Upside Down, Annie is trying to pick up the pieces. Meanwhile, Steve is worried about what will happen after he eventually graduates high school.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, trauma recovery, fighting, a plot twist

A/N: Thanks for the encouraging words, hopefully I’ll be able to keep writing. Now all that’s in my way is my college classes taking up my time. Really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter because I’m really excited about it! You can find the other parts here.

~*~*~*~

One month. It had been almost exactly a month since everything had truly been swept out from underneath Annie and any perception she had of reality as she knew it. Something that she thought was accomplished by moving to New York and her parents then divorcing. Things couldn't have possibly gotten more messed up after that. How naive she had been.

Lunchtime was simultaneously the best and worst part of every day. On one end, it meant there was only half a day left and she could hang out with Steve for a while. However, she hated eating and she hated finding her way to the auditorium. It was always a matter of how quickly she could pick the lock and get in. Seeing that Steve was cornered by Billy just a few yards away made her pause.

She could go over and stop it. She should go over and stop it. Except, she couldn't go over and stop it. Not after last time. Wasn't a month ago enough to tell her she couldn't possibly do anything to help? Things would only be worse.

So instead of doing anything, she picked the lock to the auditorium and let herself in, closing and locking the door behind her. Once Steve knocked, she opened it, but she didn't want anyone following her in. That was the whole point of this place. It was the only safe place in the whole school.

It was even safer when she lit up the whole space. Staring into the shadows and seeing the things she thought she would only see in her nightmares became all too common. Shouldn't she have been over this by now?

"I got my last college letter," Steve said as he ate, "Well, community college to be exact."

Annie looked up from her book, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, I don't know if I'll go there. I've got a few options."

"Oh, um, that's really good!"

Any positive tone just felt too forced for Annie's taste, but Steve never seemed to notice that. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for Steve. He was getting out, that was good. Except, what did that mean for her?

Deep down, Annie knew that was the most selfish thought she could have. Steve wanted to leave, it was so obvious. Everyone wanted to get out, but so few did and she really thought he had a chance. Getting away from everything that happened sounded like a dream come true.

The problem was that she still had another year. It was another year with Billy Hargrove and whoever he ended up befriending once Tommy graduated. Who was she supposed to talk to? Even after being at the school for over a month, she had yet to find any group of people she truly wanted to be around.

Sure, the kids would be freshmen next year, but did she really want to sit around them every day? She had to put on some kind of act for them so they didn't worry about her. Still, it seemed that Steve was better at doing that with them.

She didn't even fully realize what she was crying at as she got to the epilogue of War and Peace. The characters she cared about the most seemed to make it to the end. Yet she didn't even realize what she was doing until the large book was thrown across the stage.

Steve jumped, "Are you okay?"

"Um... yeah, Tolstoy's just a shit writer," she pursed her lips.

He shook his head, "What happened?"

"Sonya... she was my favorite, you know? And you know what happens to her?! Sh-she... she ends up all alone! Every engagement she had fell through an-and she's living with everyone, but everyone hates her! They say nothing's wrong with her but they just hate her so much and-" she choked out a sob and buried her face in her hands.

Steve's eyes widened and he quickly moved next to her and attempted to hug her, but she was quick to move away before he could, "Hey, maybe if you ate something-"

"I-I'm not hungry."

He huffed, "That's bullshit. I've barely seen you eat since I've known you."

"Just because you haven't seen me eat doesn't mean I'm starving myself," she snapped, looking up at him.

"You think I don't notice?" his brows furrowed, "Annie, you put on mascara in my car when I drive you to school. You wouldn't do that if you got up early enough, so I know you're not eating breakfast. I haven't seen you eat lunch in, like, a week and I don't know about dinner, but I'm sure when your mom's not home you try to get away with not eating anything. I'm not an idiot-"

"I never said that and you know it. It's not your job to fucking babysit me. I'm not one of the kids, and it's not like you're gonna be around in a few months anyways so don't even bother acting like you care," she said, getting up to pick up her book and then to leave.

Steve could only sit there as the door closed, and Annie preferred it that way. If she wanted him to follow her, she would have said something different. Maybe there was a part of her that wanted him to follow her. Hell, a part of her wanted him to hold her and tell her that he would visit even if it was a lie. Just something to keep her from feeling like everything was crashing down all over again.

Even in their one shared class, Annie didn't bother looking in his direction. Mainly because it was embarrassing to think that she cracked like that. Though, she was sure he had enough of her by that point. If he noticed all those issues with her, then he probably didn't want anything to do with her.

That idea in mind, she stayed in the girl's bathroom for what had to be another half hour. By then, she was sure that Steve would get the hint she wasn't coming and he would just go on his own way. Never mind the inch of snow on the ground or how she only had her black vans to help her walk through it all. She would get over it. Obviously this would be the norm once Steve left so she may as well try and get used to it.

However, she didn't expect that anyone would still be lingering that long after. Trying to sneak around Billy right in front of the school was impossible.

"Need a ride?" Billy asked, putting an arm around her.

The stench of cigarettes made her want to scream, but she couldn't say anything. It felt like she was just watching it all happen to her. She wanted to push or do something.

All she could think of was to run, so that was what she did. Annie ran so hard that her lungs burned. Except, she didn't get too far because of how slick the sidewalk was and she landed on the ground, smacking her side against the concrete.

Annie tugged her sweatshirt around herself even as she felt the ice cold snow digging through most of the fabric. The sound of a car pulling up was lost on her.

Steve was in front of her and she wasn't sure what part of that shocked her the most. That he stayed the whole time or that he was trying to help her up. At least nothing physical had been broken.

"Are you gonna say anything?" he asked as he drove.

Annie crossed her arms, "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Right, you did such a good job of that when you were eating shit on the ice," he said, "Look, Anne-"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

His grip on the steering wheel tensed, "Can you please not yell right now? I get it, you're really pissed off or whatever, but it's really icy out and I need to focus."

Annie simply stayed silent after that, not even commenting on how the radio was going haywire. When he pulled up to her house, she just got out and went inside without another word. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize when she knew she was right about having to get used to not having him around.

The only consolation of the day was that Erik curled up in her lap as she finished the last part of the book she had been working through for the last month. If only she could move on from everything that happened the same way she could close a book and put it back on a shelf.

It was the phone ringing that snapped her from those thoughts, and she rushed to pick it up. Her mom said that Scott was coming over for dinner since Thanksgiving had gone less than smoothly.

"Hi, who's this?"

"Anne, I'm looking for your mom," her dad said.

"She's not home right now. Not that I'd tell her you called."

"You know, if she isn't looking after you right, I can take care of-"

"Fat chance. Like I'd want you taking care of me," she said, clenching the phone in her hands.

He sighed, "I'm just saying, the custody battle isn't entirely over."

"Why would you wanna take care of me when you won't even pay child support?! What's the point in having you just torture me for the next ten months when I'd just be miserable the whole time!" 

A surge of pain went through her hand that made her drop the phone. The phone was completely fried and her hand was a little bit burned. She simply stared for a few moments before going to take care of it in the bathroom.

That was when she saw a bit of blood coming from her nose. It contrasted with her light brown skin and she was quick to wipe it with a piece of toilet paper. She then focused on bandaging up her skin. However, a question of what happened was still in the back of her mind.

Had she done that?

The kids always talked about how Eleven's nose bled when she used her powers. Annie didn't get nosebleeds often. Before right then, the last time she got a nosebleed had been after she woke up with all those things crawling on her.

It was a weird and unrealistic theory, though. Two nosebleeds didn't mean anything. Her paranoia was probably through the roof. The odds of her simply finding parallels that weren't there was more likely than anything else. Besides, why would she have powers now?

There wasn't anything super different about her. Sure, her birthday was just over a month ago and she was seeing the Upside Down, but that had more to deal with being near the lab. At least, that was the feeling she and Steve decided to go with. The lights would flicker on and off every time, though.

As much as she didn't buy it at first, none of that stopped Annie from spending a good amount of time on the lamp in her room. She brought a box of tissues and concentrated as much as she could on the light bulb.

"Okay, this is really stupid, I know it's stupid," she said, glancing over at Erik who simply continued his nap in the middle of her bed.

Still, she continued to stare at the light in front of her. Something had to happen. After all, it was clearly possible to some degree. She didn't know her biological parents, maybe they were like that or they were part of something. It was worth trying and the only one watching her fail was her sleeping cat. Steve wasn't going to sneak up on her. Not after she completely screwed that friendship up.

"Come on, you're making me look like a dumbass," she glared at the light.

It had been a month and she wasn't over anything that happened. The least that experience could have left her with was some form of powers. Maybe that could keep her safe from all those shadows at night. She deserved something after all that she lost. Everyone had someone else. And sure, she had Steve at the time but she knew she messed that up beyond repair. Maybe it was for the best. When had she ever had something go right with a guy?

The light sparked a bright, light blue and she almost screamed from how suddenly it lit up. Annie stared at it with such intensity. The light continued to beam brightly and stayed that same distinctive blue. It was beautiful. Was this really the only thing she could do, though? 

All that trauma and for what? All those nightmares and flashbacks out of nowhere and all she got was the ability to turn on some lights. There was also the chance to traumatically flip-flop dimensions. She couldn't forget blowing up the phone either.

With all of those thoughts swimming in her head, the light shattered. Glass clattered all over her desk.

"Shit."

At dinner that night, Annie sat with her mom and Scott over some soup that was quickly heated up at the last possible second. Still, it tasted just fine and Annie made sure that her mom knew that. Well, after she explained that the phone freaked out on her.

"So, Scott... I was watching Carrie the other night and I was wondering, like... could someone be able to have those types of powers but with electricity in real life?" she asked, some of her hair falling in her face.

Scott took a spoonful of soup as he thought, "Interesting... I believe you're asking about electrokinesis. Everyone has an electric current inside themselves, being able to control that would be a psionic ability that has yet to be proven by science. Though, we're making new discoveries all the time. It's always in the realm of possibility."

"Um... and what do you think they could do?"

"I suppose someone with that power could control everything with an electrical impulse. Lights, electronics... even other people. That would have to take a lot of power, though," he said before shrugging, "No one really knows, but there is always research to be done."

For a moment, Annie couldn't help thinking about Billy and all the other people at school who did something to make her life hell in the last month. If she tried hard enough, she could really do some damage.

Would that be enough, though? She needed to show someone and figure out what to do. The only person who could come to her mind was Steve. This was huge, surely a sudden onset of psionic abilities was enough to completely discard the things she said. If there was anyone she trusted with something so important, it was him.

After dinner, she thought through what she was going to say. Once she had something in mind, she grabbed her jacket and snuck out through her window. It was freezing outside, but she didn't notice as she hurried on her walk.

There was no reason to fear the shadows if she could just zap something away. Sure, she still turned at every slight noise. It was the first time she walked to Steve's this late at night. She didn't take too long to get to his house. The issue at play was figuring out how to get up to Steve's room.

It took a bit of walking around the house, but she did manage to scale the house, knowing where Steve's room was. The room was right above the pool that was covered and most likely drained. She could see the window light was on.

There was never a worry that Steve would be asleep. He was like her in that way, neither of them slept a whole lot. Probably for the exact same reasons, but she never asked.

The only problem with his window was that there wasn't any roofing below it. She mentally prepared herself to jump when she saw a breath in the dark air. With the way the wind blew, the smell of cigarette smoke hit her face and her heart dropped.

She could only cry out when she slipped on the slick roof and started to fall forward. A scream caught in her throat and wouldn't leave, but she felt something grab at her arm.

"Annie?!" Steve whisper-yelled, "What're you doing here?"

She stared up at him, "I- um... a little help?"

"Thought you could help yourself or whatever," he said as he dropped his cigarette out the window and helped her up into his room.

Getting inside Steve's room made it obvious that talking about electrokinesis to start things off wasn't going to cut it. She wasn't blind and could easily see the red rims around his brown eyes.

Annie chewed on her lip, "What's wrong?"

Steve couldn't bring himself to say anything and instead handed Annie a letter from his desk. She took it, reading over its contents. It seemed that Steve got waitlisted at the community college for one reason or another. 

"I don't get it... I mean, sure that sucks, but you just said that you got into a few places. What's wrong?" she asked, setting down the letter.

He laughed bitterly, "Don't you see? I lied about that. This was my last option, and I couldn't even get into fucking community college. Looks like I am gonna be around in a few months."

There was a long pause as Annie processed his words. Everything about her abilities completely went out of her mind. Of course she wanted Steve around for more than a few more months, but that didn't mean she wanted him to be stuck in Hawkins.

"Are you gonna say anything?" he asked, trying to look at her as though that could give him half a clue as to what she was about to say.

She looked up at him, "I'm sorry, like, really sorry. I shouldn't have said the things I did today and I know I shouldn't have freaked out on you. Um... I know what I said was really shitty, and- and I know that because I was trying to push you away."

"An-and I wish I could say that if I knew what was going on with all this college stuff that I wouldn't have said those things, but it really doesn't matter because I said them anyway and I'm so, so sorry. You don't need to go through all this alone," she said, doing everything she could to keep herself from crying.

Steve sighed, "You don't need to apologize, I already don't have a future. You probably want a friend who isn't a screw up and an idiot and-"

"Steve! Don't you dare talk about my best friend like that ever again," she said, her voice cracking as she hugged him, "You're so smart. I mean, come on, you see right through whatever act I've got going on."

He hugged her back, "Right, because tearing apart your brain is a good way to make money.... that's nice but I'm still a failure."

"No, absolutely not," she frowned, "Maybe things don't look great right now, but you know what?"

"Hm?"

"Everyone thought Cats was gonna suck, and it ended up so critically acclaimed and has more great songs than it had any right to have."

Steve blinked, "You're comparing me to Cats? Cats the musical?"

"Um... yep, I am," she gave a hesitant smile when she looked up at him.

He couldn't stop himself from laughing and he looked down at her with a look she could have sworn he never gave her before. One of his hands went to brush some of her hair out of her face. A finger traced her scar and for once, for the first time, she didn't flinch or pull away. Neither of them said anything, but she could have sworn Steve was leaning down and she knew that she was about to tip toe up to his height.

There was a knock at the door and suddenly they were both looking at each other with wide eyes. Steve nodded to his bed and Annie immediately got under the bed. She had been so used to his parents not being there that she forgot they would even be around.

Her heart was pumping through her ears and she shut her eyes tightly. Why couldn't she have had the power to turn invisible? It would make life so much easier. Why did it have to be a month? Why couldn't she be over it?

"Annie?" Steve whispered, looking under his bed and helping her up so she could sit on his bed next to him, "Hey, what's with your hand?"

She gave a small shrug, "The phone broke while I was talking to my dad."

"Oh..." he looked over the bandage, "Why'd you come tonight?"

"Guilt? I don't know, I um- I guess I needed to make sure you didn't hate me or anything."

He shook his head, "I don't hate you. Did you hurt me? Yeah, of course you did, but I couldn't hate you. I know it's been exactly a month, and you've gotta be really stressed."

"You knew?"

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd wanna talk about it," he ran a hand through his hair, "And I never really knew you before everything went to hell, so I don't know what's normal for you, but I don’t think this is it."

She stared down at her lap, hair falling in her face, "It's not normal, I don't think it is, anyway. I mean, like, I'm a girl and I've been stupid and I've done stupid stuff and been talked into doing stupid things with people, you know?"

"Right..." he nodded for her to continue.

Annie sighed, "I've felt like I wanted to sink into the floor before, but Billy and those demodogs and my parents all at once? I-I just wanna disappear or to control something or destroy or just- just something that lets me actually feel."

"Anne-"

She winced, "Stop. I know it's just a dumb nickname, but that's what my dad's always called me and- and he did nothing but make me feel like garbage in a ten page letter. That part’s not important, but I can't for the life of me distinguish the two things."

"Okay, okay, I won't call you that. I promise," he reached over to her hands, "But I can't stress how much I don't want you to disappear on me. So I need you to tell me you didn't mess up your hand on purpose."

She nodded, "I didn't, the phone went haywire. My mom's buying a new one tomorrow."

The pair stayed up talking about everything from a month ago. Including how Annie was going to go to Barb's funeral. No, she didn't know the girl, but Annie knew that could have been her. Maybe the fact that Steve didn't deserve to be at that funeral on his own was also why she planned on going.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!): @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @nxncywheeler​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

[artdjgblog]

Innerview: ​Sonya Baughman​ / Review Magazine​

July 2008

Image: DJG's "Live & Let Die" Record by Paul McCartney & Wings

Note: Interview for a magazine feature.​

01) Where did you grow up and where do you live now? My young cloth diapers treaded a lot of dirt, dead animal and doggy acres in the North Central stick regions of Missouri, Mid-West, USA. Currently, adult plastic diapers drag and sag me in mid-town Kansas City, MO. The first six years had me bucking bales, falling off hay wagons, piercing my cheek on a hay bale stinger, assisting with the old cow stuck in the mud, designing elaborate tunnels and forts from tomato cages, watching “The Muppets” and “Star Wars” a lot, hearing scary stories of Leopard Man, posing for many pictures with dead and live animals, rocking out in cowboy boots to “Live & Let Die” on my Papa Smurf guitar, and crying at night to my raccoon wallpaper…among many other early formative brain tattoos. Act Two had many dry summers and the bank repossessing the farm and moving us to the home and acres where my Dad grew up. The new place had a blacktop in front of it and a gravel lane with a bridge/creek. The blacktop was a reservoir for leaving behind summertime shoe and bike impressions and for popping tar bubbles in the blistering heat. I also was of age to really explore and build many forts and treehouses in the ditches, barns and woods. Also, I started to go hunting and spend time in the fields with my Dad. We never had a shortage of animals and pets too. A lot of spare time was also spent in the sandbox or in the bedroom designing and building things based on what I saw and experienced. There was also a massive in-take of drawing and pop-culture from comics, books, music, television and movies. There wasn’t much of a cap on what my siblings and I could devour. Oh, and loads of sugary sweets and cereals. Go thr​ough the yearly motions and I end up at Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, MO. There I got some very formal education and incredible interaction with students and design professors from the great making thing ways of Eastern Europe and Russia. I pretty much maxed out my art and design class card and was even making a ton of design work on the side for musicians. I then received a higher calling to drop out of school and make my guts out in Kansas City, MO which is where I’ve flopped around now for the past seven years. 02) Talk a little about your artistic background. Are you self-taught, did you go to college for art (if so, where)? My background is painted with loads of pop-culture from the 1980s and ’90s mixed in with the soil of farm life. I also designed and built many elaborate tree houses and forts up until the age of eighteen and spent most any spare minute in the sandbox or locked in my room drawing, reading, studying, video game playing, movie watching and just playing in general. I’ve never understood people’s ability to get bored or to not use the creation within them to ooze life out. I’ve enjoyed drawing comics, sports mascots and WWII battle scenes with my Dad at a young age that involved aircraft carriers, tanks and flags of those involved in conflict. My older brother would also draw a lot with me. He was better though. My younger sister and brother were pretty solid too. We have no idea where our creativity came from other than a great uncle, maybe? Also in my youth I would make giant collages out of magazine clippings and lots of mix tapes of Dr. Demento’s bizarre radio program and recorded and memorized many a variety of cartoon episodes and cool shows like Pee​-w​ee’s Playhouse. I’ve also been a constant collector all my life. Back in the day I was all about the whole spectrum of toys, comics, ball cards, cereal boxes and loads of other junk…even kept dead animal parts under my bed. In the fifth grade I won a county wide logo contest for a skating and bowling fun center and it was the first time I realized disappointment with design as my logo was butchered by those higher-up. In middle-school up until my junior year of high school I studied more comics, logos, sports architecture and wanted desperately to design new-vintage baseball stadiums until the realization of my poor math skills hit like a ton of collapsed buildings. I even won a Kansas City Royals baseball essay contest. Getting made fun of daily in high school stunk, but it really fueled my work ethic, dreams and caused me to lock up in my bedroom at night. Though, I still wish I would have worked harder in my youth. I still really enjoy working hard and being alone to this day. In the summer of 1996 I was selected to attend the first ever Missouri Fine Arts Academy and learned that I had more to offer with my insides and got a chance to interact with more likeminded minds. I came back to my senior year of high school with notebooks of typographic graffiti designs and a whole new language of what I thought was the art world. There was also a new art teacher at my school and he was serious and seriously cool and recognized that I had something to offer. I also came back to my senior year with more confidence in expressing myself and decided to dive into the world of graphic design for my post-high school studies. I had no idea what I was going to really do with it, but I knew I just wanted to use my gift of making stuff for the rest of my life. And graphic design somehow promised a bit more security in money than going the fine art route. Though, I’ve now managed to merge the two and to still not make any money. My high school scores had me at number 12 out of 24 in my class and I scraped the bottom of the test barrels to get me into college. Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, MO said I could come and so I did. They were the only institution I applied for and I had liked it from my three week stay at Fine Arts Academy the previous year. College was great, but I could tell quickly that I wasn’t a top art pup like I was in my small school way back down the line. I was with the bigger dogs now. I struggled with drawing classes because I realized that I wasn’t as good as I had been told I was for the previous eighteen years. That was a set-back and I still wish to this day I would have worked harder at drawing. But, mostly I have trouble drawing in a cramped room with a ton of people breathing down my neck and at certain times of the day. The introduction and foundation art classes were more my calling and I could take the stuff home and work alone and all night. Most of my friends complained because they couldn’t wait until sophomore year when we would be on the computer for design. I didn’t really understand what I was getting into with graphic design. In fact, one day I exclaimed to my friends that I was taking the graphic design route that didn’t use computers and was entirely hands-on. They thought I was pretty insane for saying that and pretty much called me a fool. It’s kind of funny now though. I was so naïve at 18 and 19 to what the formal graphic design world was and I think I still am ten years later. Back when I was more bushy-tailed, I just wanted to make things and cut stuff out and not chain up to a computer…and I guess I’m still bushy-tailed, though I have a computer and use it mostly as a tool. When I finally did get placed in front of a computer, it was a struggle and I just couldn’t get into it and past the screen barrier. It almost stopped me from majoring in graphic design. But, we weren’t on the computer all the time as we were taught to conceptualize and to think and to be hands-on too. But, we needed to know the computer too. I just couldn’t get along with the computer for the longest time. Of course, the computer whiz kids just couldn’t wait for the next semester that involved a wordy world called typography. Which, naively enough I thought was about the art of map making. I liked maps, so I was excited too. But, I soon found out it was a whole new world that would poison the ABCs in me forever…good and bad. At least in type class we were still taught to think and do things by hand before messing with computer fonts. That first year or two of official design school was just terrible for me as I felt I wasn’t really “getting” it and didn’t think I would be happy as a graphic designer. I was just fulfilling project requirements and with zero heart or much care. It wasn’t until I haphazardly signed up to duel major in illustration that things started to make music inside of me. I began to really pour myself out and realize that I could approach things in a similar light as to when I was a child and be happy. Illustration saved me and I found my voice with it and my classmates and instructors started noticing. The energy there was great and everybody fed off of each other and helped each other see in new light(s). I also began to understand the valuable importance of the experience of my schooling as the instructors not only had a unique style of teaching, but they also had interesting backgrounds and culture from Eastern Europe and Russia. I could mildly relate to them as I was a transplant from the foreign farm world of North Missouri. After many design trips to studios I began to feel a very empty feeling with the profession I had chosen to represent my working life. It was not what I wanted to do with a “career”, or my time. I didn’t wish to work in a factory of fried monitor goo-lash. I wanted to just make stuff and at my own pace and pleasure. I was also very protective of my work and wanted parental rights and not for it to belong to another man’s name or dream. My love for music started to fuse with design and I began to start making many things on the side for musicians, which spread to other types of word-of-mouth work for me. An eye-popping lecture by modern rock poster designer Art Chantry sealed my personal deal for wanting to do my own thing. Shortly after that I decided I needed to change many gears in my life and secretly drop out of school following my final design class in the fall of 2001 and live with a band (and some) in a big old dilapidated orange house behind the original Lamar’s Donuts in Kansas City, MO. While some senior students had trouble looking for one real world client to work with for their final projects, I had close to 10 off the top of my head and whole bunch of future blank pages to fill. 03) During the time you have been making art have you always been drawn to this type of graphic expression? Did you “find” a style or did a style find you? I’d say a bit of both. I’ve never really gone for a set “style”. I’m sure that I’ve got one that has become recognizable to my thumb prints. Honestly, I never really think too hard about what I’m making or the why or how of the making until I have to answer questions like this. Then I start to over-think things. Also, whenever I’m told that I’m a good collagist or good at hand type or so-and-so rendering, then that is the only time I really make an effort to switch gears. I have boiled the majority of my output to be relational to the immediacy of my moods, thoughts, tickles, inclination and whatevers. Though, sometimes life can get in the way and I’ll have to slide down a small sliver of time and energy depletion, like I am with trying to get this writing out on time! But, I’m a big fan of cranking stuff out no matter what. Life is pretty darn short to sit on my hands. It seems that style can be a bit of a drag for some people and/or a hole. I’ve always been more in-tune to the folks who just follow what their gut, heart, hands and eyes speak instead of creating a set template. Some people never stray too far from that and only a few can truly get away with it. Edward Gorey is perhaps one of the few who could really make it work for me. I would certainly love to draw and think as well as he did, but I might be quite miserable doing the same thing over and over even if I was able to do it for a living. I think that a lot of people get confused and think they need to have a style and either invent one or pick other people’s noses instead of sniffing what they’ve been wearing all their life. Style to me is a lot like decorating or something. Though, at the same time that decoration might marriage perfectly to what somebody thinks they need. I don’t know though. Sometimes I think it’s funny when we as people think we need something to look or feel a certain way that’s already been communicated or visualized. I think that sometimes we are too caught up in what’s done before instead of thinking for ourselves. I’m guilty too. What’s really confusing to me, on a personal level, is when I get a request like, “We like all your work so make whatever you want!” and then the client ends up being really disappointed because it wasn’t in their “style” and then it’s awkward. Style is just an odd thing to me. But, most things are. I try to just trust my gutty heart and just make. 04) Do you see your work as communicating your identity or as helping to communicate the identity and message of others? … or both? I see it as me communicating what I’ve gathered from being on the Earth for 29 ½ years and spreading that manure the best I can. It’s a heaping helping to tell the story of others by telling my story. Most of my work fits into fine art and design, at least I’m always told that. I’m not really sure. Of late I’ve been pushing into more of the fine art bin. But, I’m not a big fan of labeling things and I would like to do many things with this thing I do. With design, one does have a role to play with helping somebody else tell their story, and at times, sell their story. There is also a responsibility to the venue the product is in or where it will eventually end up, whether a fine package on a shelf or a poster in the gutter. I feel it can be easy for a designer to lose perspective of the role playing. With leaving behind an identity…well, I like the idea of a paper trail, time-line and bruising thumb prints on this life. However, I don’t necessarily have the intent to say “Hey, look at me.” I am just another human, and one who happens to make things. If the work speaks or inspires (probably frightens and confuses on occasion), then that means a lot to me, especially in these fast-paced and flashy “everyone’s a designer-decorator” times with millions of images and advertisements everywhere. I think it’s great to recognize and at times celebrate gifts and achievement. But, I feel there needs to be a healthy balance. It can be a dangerous thing to play with at times. Some artists I feel become the work of art themselves and end up playing God with the gift and this saddens me as it usually ruins them in the long run. 05) Is there anything about your geographic location that has given you a unique perspective on design and the art you create? Certainly, growing up country might have my visions at a stranger advantage, and a howling merge to that with the city life now. You might see a lot of wonderfully strange things on the streets of the city due to the amount of activity by varieties of people and culture. But, only in small town Missouri do the deer pile up outside the meat locker and blood runs next door to the Baptist church as the high school band splash-marches through it. Growing up it was easy to take my lifestyle for granted. I enjoyed it immensely, but when I was 15 to 18 I wanted to get out a bit more. I was hungry to explore, and not just the many acres we lived on. I wanted the rest of the world. I became a little disgruntled with growing up country and I think that there is a certain stereotype placed upon people anywhere they are, but country folk get it pretty bad. I definitely ate from both sides of the fence, but also didn’t want to be hung up in it for a living. As I grow older I appreciate my roots a lot more and celebrate them and am very thankful. I enjoy going back home. And some day I’d like to move outside of the city to a small plot of land with a making things shack out back. But, my family home isn’t too far down the road for a getaway weekend visit to sit with the stars, coyote yips and fish. 06) What do you consider influences on your art? (this can be other artists, music, philosophy, nature – anything. this question is not just limited to “I’m a big fan of Banksy”) First thing, I believe in the compiling of all days in life to influence an artist’s output (horse apples or clean streets). Our walks tell a lot about who we are in the present prints. I feel that one would be lying to me if what they created was not in their full vision. But, I too think that we all wear and share influences as witnesses to what we’ve seen and where we’ve been. We all help shape each other. I’ve rattled off my early influences of popular culture. I think I’m more in-tune with my child’s self now than I was then as I sit alone and make things and pull from all my days. It’s also easy to feel that I was really moving and discovering more back then with naïve, childlike faith that I’m trying to get back now. I have some good days though and mostly when I’m not thinking too much. I’m still a fan of absorbing lots of things and from many angles. Of course I have my artistic influences. One of my big influences as a child was my Grandma Gibson. She is from the old school of the country and a very hands-on person with making many things like clothing, dead animal backpacks, blankets, pillows, fridge magnets and game board pieces. I still have a lot of the things from those years. I think a lot of my approach to making things came from her. My “professional” art world as a kid had an outside knowledge from trips to museums and PBS specials, though I felt a little detached from that world and still kind of do. My heroes were at the movies because they were more immediate to me, guys like Jim Henson, Stan Winston, Dr. Indiana Jones, Rambo and Han Solo. But, it was Henson’s world that opened me up to the first idea of an artist’s legacy, vision and spirit and glimpse of another world. Something big-time ached in my decade old gut the day I found out he passed away. Musically speaking I was very much a child of my Mom’s Beatles records, “oldies” music and a ton of television theme songs, novelty sing-alongs and old church songs. I still put a lot through my ears now and my biggest influences in music in my older years are Bruce Springsteen, Jeff Buckley, Elliott Smith and Bob Dylan. Also, I am still a big fan of tons of picture books and just anything really. I just know that I’ve never had bare space on the walls and shelves of my home and head. Oh, and wherever I am I’m usually distracted by the stuff on the ground. I’m a big collector of found notes, writings, scribbles, addresses, children’s drawings and good-bad-silly-stupid-smart designs. I like to collect ‘em all. I’ve also collected stamps since I was 10. I’m a big nerd. Here’s a listing of some names in the art and design canon who have made things that either attracted, influenced or moved me in some ways (in no particular order): Saul Steinberg, Seymour Chwast and Push Pin, Lester Beall, Edward Gorey, Ray Johnson, Art Chantry, Henryk Tomaszewski, Vaughn Olver and V23, Raymond Pettibon, Paul Klee, Stanley Donwood, Stefan Sagmeister, Cy Twombly, Saul Bass, Ivan Chermayeff, Ralph Steadman, Robert Rauschenberg, Jean Michel-Basquiat…most anybody who has something to say and develops a bad back carving out their paper trail. Movies are also a giant influence on my work and I study them almost daily. Some of the filmmakers who capture a certain craft of unique spirit that I enjoy include P.T. Anderson, Wes Anderson, Michel Gondry and the Coen Brothers. Folk Art is another big mind-blow and one of my favorite areas to study and get ticked by the of-the-moment heart, purity and passion. I love the idea of somebody just up and making something for the heck of it and not for art’s or ego’s sake. That’s the childlike thing I miss the most. The makers and shakers that move me the most from the folk art movement are Henry Darger, Bill Traylor and Robert E. Smith. And sometimes I get more out of the work on display in county and state fairs by everyday arts and crafters than so-called “professional” art and design work. 07) What is your perspective on the place of poster art here in the Midwest (or KC specifically) as it interacts with the rest of the art community and how the poster art coming out of this community may be perceived on a more national level? I’m curious about this because of the recognition Kansas City artists in general have been receiving lately on a national and international scale and how the art world tends to waffle between interest and disinterest in artists in this region. The music scene here is very interesting to me and a lot of times I think that it is just like 20 people all making it happen. Though, there is a lot of talent, diversity and genre-bending for a small town like this. There are a lot of groups making a mark here and down the highways, same with the people making stuff for them. Though, I get a little strange sometimes because I sometimes feel that the small scene mixed with the internet’s social networks and fewer record stores (oh, and most of my posters take up a whole bulletin board!) makes the poster almost secondary information and so-so decoration. In the same thought though, most of the stuff I see on the internet passes by me in a two-second window like that of highway advertising. Though, some do stick out to me because I’m always on the look to get tickled. And I don’t feel the art of the printed piece will die any time soon. Anyway, the scene just works here in Kansas City somehow and everybody takes care of and appreciates each other’s roles and contributions. I’ve had some great response to what I’m slapping up, but at the same time I think that a lot of people don’t get it. What’s not to get, it’s not too special? But, that’s fine with me. I’m not sure where I am in the scene. Maybe more-so in the “seen” department with my meager budgeted work hanging above a stool in the blurry-eyed late hours. I still think that toilets are one the best places for information gathering. Poster art in general in the last ten years alone has received a great breath of fresh air. Many of the makers are respected within a small collective, and have also been breaking through to represent on a national level of design aesthetic, as well as a well-rounded view of the printed timeline to life and culture. It’s also something that anybody can do and a lot of bands still just make their own stuff, which I’m cool and whatever with it. Everybody has their own style, agenda and empty pockets. But, the personal computer has saturated the landscape with a lot of “samey”. Then again, if it works, it works. In the end if it gets people interested and enthused, then what is there for a bum like me to complain about? And sometimes I really get a kick out of unskilled design stuff(s). I try to stay out of design politics for the most part. There is more to life than design dogma. Though, there is design all around us as we interact with it in every way from the tip-top of a tree to a paper scrap for this article. I enjoy the simple act of creation and inspiration that comes from something that seems like nothing, yet has always been a “something” growing and building and will continue to grow if the viewer lets it do so. You just have to add the proper mix of ingredients, I guess. And I guess my brain isn’t one to formerly function on the full realization to what it’s thinking. So, I’m babbling right now. I do know that something I’ve always enjoyed about the concert poster is the relatively short life span it has and how that can be used to the advantage. I just want to encourage people out there, designers/artists, non designers/artists or even church secretaries, to really push things and work harder. I don’t really care if everyone isn’t versed in design and art. In general I just encourage more to experiment with poster art, find your voice(s) and find new ways to spread the good word. Even if it’s not for a concert or an event, just make something and get it out there. Throw your junk off the overpasses if need be. 08) How has your work been received within the arts community here (and also in other geographic regions if you have been branching out)? For seven years now I’ve somehow managed to remain fairly anonymous and at the same time have sparkled a bit of attention…maybe just a glittering. Life and day job dwindle my hours to where it’s hard to even pay attention on my own stuff sometimes, so I don’t get out much here in the city. Though, I guess it is easier to keep up with things on the internet, papers and here-say. I think Kansas City is making her own dent right now with a wide variety of things going on in the arts landscape. The town is kind of booming and bustling right now. Being that we’re a small town, it’s easy for a small fish to get more wet feet. Though, I’ve never put my whole foot into anything. I just do my thing. Some days I’m not really sure what that thing is, but I do it despite my muck. When I first started on my design quest, like when anyone tackles something head-on, I was head-over-heels and not sleeping much. I was also living with bands and interacting more and actually going to shows several times a week. I don’t know how I did it without exhausting my ticker, but for some reason it all worked. I started to garner a little bit of buzz here that seemed to spread quick outside the state and international borders. Many people contact me from all over and slap my stuff alongside some of my design favorites in magazines and books. It’s a hoot. People are always interested in my story and creations. It’s all still really odd and blushing to me in some light that the little things I make are reaching a selective audience on a much grander scale. Anyway, I’ve certainly learned now that sleep is important and that it’s better for me to work smarter, not harder. Though, that’s not entirely the truth as I still work pretty darn hard and I believe in it greatly. Still, I’ve struggled with my own brand of discontent since I fell from a slide and blacked-out at the age of five. It’s something that I’m working and wrangling with. But, with any kind of actual work you’ve studied, worked hard with and duct taped up the switch with 24-7, you learn to just not think and rather DO and the moves become mechanical. I just have to put to use different types of oil to keep from rusting. It all becomes a fluid thing, or something constantly coming down on me in the grocery aisle, tree leave holes and side walk crack scribbles. It can be challenging when life stuff gets in the way, but I shouldn’t see it as getting in the way. I easily get confused, but then I realize that the things I experience and see and do (good-bad) all go into my design pot mixed with my past and then I just have to do the upchucking as I move forward and I tend to feel better. Recently I’ve definitely stepped back on my massive production of concert posters and I’m sure that many people reading this will think, “Geesh, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this idiot’s work?” Not only has my life changed in some ways, but I also had to give myself permission to take a time out and to learn to say no to some things. A break was needed before burnout and bitter rotted my worms in the apple, among other things. I had a year of little activity and practiced sitting on my nest. I still made a bunch of stuff, but a lot just for me. I’ve also been involved in various group art shows around the country, design books and special art projects with friends spread about. Another thing I did, and still do, is just to see what other avenues I’d like to take my one man show. I’m learning to use the internet for the medium that it is too. Anyway, I’ve always got some stew samples back burning, but my biggest competition is myself…on top of time, energy and money. Mostly myself, as I’ve always been extremely hard on myself. Though, I’ve been told I make it look easy. I’ve never been good at math, so you go figure. I get exhausted from trying to figure this out. 09) Is artwork your main profession and, if not, are you intending to make it so? It’s really flattering and kind of sad when every spring I get more and more inquiries from freshly plucked and talented college students about a possible internship or job with DJG Design. In general, due to what most think to be a large and varied output of work, people who don’t know what I’m about think that there is a D, a J and a G making things. It always excites me to be contacted by enthused students and other design people (any walks of life, really) who saw something or connected to my work and got a spark. It makes me rosey, but it also keeps me a little down as I don’t make enough money to do this full-time. But, it all keeps me at my little basement bay working on my bad back and poor eye sight, keeps me (under)grounded in some ways. I’ve always worked full-time jobs and have been married now for three years. So, certain responsibilities come with walking hand-in-hand with another. For now I just spin the day job blues and try to stay content and disciplined, burning the fuel before and after work. But, age is setting in a bit and I’m getting antsy. I also grow tired easier. Good things do come out of day jobs, good design work does too. For the first four or five years I was a janitor and groundskeeper. So, loads of perks came from great finds, discards, dumpster dives and lots of free food and more time to read and study and draw. Heck, I even designed a few posters between clock punches. Currently my position has me staring at a computer doing data entry. The health care, artificial air and hours are great and I can walk out my back door and be there in seven minutes. But, it can be difficult to know that I’m sitting and squandering something back home. I do take it with me everywhere upstairs, and I do a bit of networking during the day time, but there is still that itch to make things full-time and not have a full plate of non-stop. It’s all hard to balance. But, making things is the only thing that I’m told that I’m somewhat good at. Well, other than eating junk food, watching movies, being confused and petting my four kitty cats. I am fast approaching thirty and the visual of time stacking is more evident than ever. Each space between second hand clicks is another scratch of tiny pine box to me. I am slowly checking off my list of “Before 30 Goals”, but I’m usually several cars back and sometimes it’s a pileup. Life takes a different course too. But, I have caught back a hold of a torch of some sort. I am constantly tacking up side boards to the wagon. After eight years of looking at Gigposters.com, I finally have ALL of my poster work up on there. It’s a great way to generate exposure and get my work out some more. I also have my new website up and an extensive volume of imagery on my Flickr.com account. It can be a bit odd to put one’s self out there in such a reservoir fashion, but I do like the idea of the timeline and personal file cabinet. And if my house burns down, it’s all digitized and makes it easier on my friends when they have to move me. So, day jobs…they are both blah and bling in my mind. My sling shots just point back at me on certain days. Sometimes they change direction with every sentence. At least I’m now under a thousand dollars on my student loans. I don’t make a thousand dollars in most years on design. 10) Tell me a story – have you had any strange poster requests? A project where you just about lost it? A poster that succeeded beyond expectations or failed in a way that took you totally by surprise? A project-situation-chaos that always sticks out when I’m asked a question like this happened to me back in June of 2002. It’s not a poster, but it’s pretty whacky and ended up being one of the best things that I think I’ll ever make. It was a special run of 250 homemade CD packages for the band Elevator Division. I’ve had many projects that demand more production time than my little brain imagines, but this one was the worst. Actually, the finished piece is a lot tamer than my initial idea. Though, the final image’s concept married to what the band was communicating on the disc inside is way better. The following true story I’ve released for a previous interview, I just tweaked a few glitches… The idea came at the night I started printing. Well, actually it was spray paint. I had an image made for a month or more and then changed it at the last stroke of inspiration. It married the themes for the album “Whatever Makes You Happy” perfectly. With reflections of war and relationships in the songs, I made an image of a hand shooting off its index finger like a missile. It was the idea of shooting off one’s options and making decisions. It was aggressive, inviting, serious and humorous all in one. It was not only fitting for the band/music but also to the national/world agenda and climate. I went to war that night with many cans of spray paint and the idiot mind to do two-hundred and fifty all in one massive sweep, and in my basement, which is something I will never do again because I could have died. I will probably also never be involved with another package like this again (take that back, I have been). Anyway, each one was hand-cut from cardboard and handmade stencil sprayed and rubber stamped. Inserts were cut, folded and glued. At the last mist of red spray a crack of thunder shook the massive turn-of-the-century home and I bolted from the basement and out the front door to a down poor fit for Noah himself. I was like a much less cool version of Dr. Frankenstein though. I leapt off the front porch and slid head first down the embankment and into the street turned river current. But, like a taxidermy nightmare, I was born again. The drug dealing squatters across the street were on their front step perch per usual summer evening, looking at the fire in my eyes and the red paint streaming from ears, nose and mouth. It was a high much higher than that of chemical substance. Well, maybe a three pack of design, life and paint fumes. 11) What is it about the poster as an art form that you feel is unique among other art forms? What purpose does it serve in your mind that can’t be served by another type of visual art? I’ve hinted at this in a previous question. I like the idea of the poster’s life-span being short, relative to the date and time…event, whatever. But, if it connects in the right way, and it can be different for everyone as art-design-whatever, is all relative to the viewer, I think that even a concert poster’s impact can last a long time. Since my first year in Kansas City I’ve had people find me out and say that they had a bedroom wall filled up ​with​ my work. It really moved me that something so simple (and sometimes stupid) that I squeezed out caused somebody else to be moved enough to hang it above their dreams at night. It means a lot to me when others get something out of something I’ve made. I know from child to adult, I myself have gotten something out of the stuff I’ve collected and tacked to my walls. It’s odd, yet a really nice feeling to know I’m somehow contributing to a landscape in some way. Making things is an act that I’ve always needed to do and has helped me get the best out of many days. I’ve always had difficulty with contributing in many forms of communication and on some days it’s terribl​y​ hard even just to be out and about. Making things has served as my calling with communication. It’s nice to know it can help others too in whatever way. -djg

[mostlymk11trash-blog]

Their S/o was mentally and physically abused

Of course, If this triggers you, please don't read. If you are in an abusive relationship please get the help you need.

This came out so much shitter than I wanted too im sorry 😕

Request for @baby-queen-girl

Okay so I only did 9 out of the 21 mk characters I write for. Some of these are short.

Kung Lao -

Your past wasn't something either Kung Lao or you spoke of very much he knew you've endured a lot of trauma such as him, but the burn scars that were on your right arm always concerned him, who could ever do such a thing to you? As Kung Lao questioned the scars you hung your head low telling him about your ex how he'd drink like a fish hardly came home from the bar once he did if one thing was dirty, out of place or dinner wasn't made a cigarette would be put out against your skin. Kung Lao was mortified hearing this rage filing his body his finger traced a scar near your collar bone, he needed to avenge you that night as you slept soundly beside him Kung Lao tried his best to find your ex with no luck he came back to the shared home hours later to see you waiting on the couch.

Raiden-

He was unfamiliar with the whole photo album thing but Raiden still sat there as you showed old childhood photos when you graduated from high school and college the smile on your face made it all worth it to him until the smile dropped, the photo was your wedding photo the forced smile on your face as you stood next to an unfamiliar man who held your waist tightly with one arm the other held onto a large bottle of liquor Raiden knew he was evil just the way he held and looked at you with such rage. The unexpected slam of the book made the god jump you apologized for him seeing the photo saying it was the worst 4 years of your life Raiden listened as you vented about the mental abuse your ex put you through, Your hand tightly gripping Raiden's he told you to worry about nothing of that sorts anymore placing a soft kiss against your forehead.

Kano-

Dating Kano meant useless fights over nothing but this one took the cake screaming throwing things, as he approached you trying to apologize for being an asshole sudden wave of fear ran through your veins memories smacking you in the face of your ex slamming you against the wall his hands around your throat tears flooded your vision as you stuttered out for him to not hurt you. Kano just stood there for a moment unsure of what to say gathering you in his arms sitting you on the couch he told you how he'd never hurt you.

(That sucked but The better one got deleted, Errons and Kuai Liang along with Kano's didn't save so I'm trying to write them like i did but they shitty

:( sorry)

Erron Black-

You never hid that your ex used to do horrible things to you, it was pointless to hide things from Erron he held his tongue as you told him your past he was angry you were the sweetest gal he knew. He tracked down that ex of yours placing a bullet through his skull making sure to bring back a bloody shell going home meant you'd be happy but he knew you'd be happier hearing the news of that shitty man's death, giving you a tight hug and a loving kiss placing the bloody bullet in your hand.

Kuai Liang -

Kuai Liang loved to treat you with a date night every once in a while letting you both escape the troubles of the Lin Kuei for a few hours but tonight's lovely dinner was ruined by your drunken ex slurring insults at you both before you could calm Kaui he was already on top of your ex beating him until he was begging at your feet to make him stop, Kaui apologized for ruining the night but he couldn't help but wondered who this man was that as he asked you explained as just an ex who was an asshole he loved to insult you before you could stop telling Kaui he was back grabbing your ex making him give you an apology. What a goof.

Hanzo Hasashi-

Sonya had told Hanzo about your past before you had the chance too, how you were locked inside for almost two years before you tried to escape you'd gotten miles from that horrible place before he caught you again slicing you from naval to tailbone leaving you for dead thankfully Sonya found you, Hanzo was infuriated how someone could call themselves a man yet do heinous things to a woman he wanted the name of that human garbage when he told you he knew about everything you broke down in his arms telling him that you didn't want him to know your past it made you feel weak. He held you close trying to calm you down telling you that your past made you into the strong woman you are now, kissing your forehead whispering how much he loved you.

Kenshi-

He often got home later than you as you worked a 9 to 5 while he was off killing monsters, Kenshi hardly entered your mind without consent but you were having a horrible nightmare thrashing crying in your sleep as he tapped into your mind a unfamiliar voice echoed you deserve this almost driving him mad Kenshi left your mind waking you up holding you to his bare chest.

Kabal-

(Not Dating)

He never understood why you were in the black dragon such a sweet kind hearted girl stuck with this clan you befriended him quickly he was shocked at you not gagging at the sight of his burnt self, that friendship lasted until your boyfriend came from his mission you seemed to disappear into your room once you left makeup was applied to your face body covered with baggy clothes hardly ever speaking to anybody. Kabal knocked on your door only hearing yelling back and forth between your boyfriend and you until he heard a loud bang against the wall kicking open the door you were against the wall face so bruised he could hardly recognize you that assholes hands around your neck one swift move with his hook sword the boyfriends head was on the ground.

Johnny Cage-

You'd never expect to be on a date with Johnny Cage none the less drunk on the couch with him both pouring out your hearts about mental abuse his from his father yours from an ex, you held him as he cried about his family he held you why you cried about your ex overall a good date until the morning you were beyond hungover while he was cooking breakfast acting like he never even drank. Once you both started talking about what happened last night he tried to tell you it got better after years but giving you his number if you ever needed to talk about it.

[hazyheel]

Smackdown Live 5/21/19 Review

The night actually started backstage, where Shane McMahon and Elias talked about Elias’s match at Money in the Bank. Elias said that he felt like he let Shane down, and offered to be in Shane’s corner at Super Showdown. Shane said no, but that he would be in his corner during the rematch tonight. A new way to open the show, so I felt good.

The actual opening segment was from the New Day, when Xavier Woods and Kofi Kingston announced that Big E was back in action. He came out with a robe on his head, but when they revealed him it wasn’t Big E. They made fun of whoever this was and then yelled at him to leave. The real Big E then showed up, and he gave the entrance voiceover, and he came out to a big pop. They quickly revealed that Big E couldn’t wrestle yet, and he sniffed his teammates. They addressed Brock Lesnar becoming Mr. Beast in the Bank, and Kofi’s title win on Sunday, but only briefly, as Kevin Owens showed up to spoil the fun, alongside Sami Zayn. Zayn complained that he didn’t get a comeback celebration, and Big E crapped on him and Owens. Owens stormed away as Zayn called the New Day disgusting for encouraging the fans’ toxic nature. Woods began to drown Zayn out with a trombone, and Zayn yelled some more.

Grade: C+. Even the phenomenal mic skills of all of these guys, this still did nothing. It was good from an acting standpoint, but it didn’t serve any purpose. No new information, the definition of filler. 

Backstage, Carmella searched for R-Truth, who was disguised with a wig and his new belt. Carmella said he had a bad disugise with a cheap wig (Truth was offended because it cost $12), and Truth begged her for her help. She agreed, and they ran. I’m gonna wait and grade all of these segments collectively at the end of the night.

Then we had Ali vs. Andrade, hopefully this one won’t end in a DQ. Before the match, they announced that Andrade would have a shot at Balor’s IC championship at the super showdown. This was a classic high flying match, with Ali delivering a reverse rana within the first few minutes. Andrade really wanted to get the win via countout, but he really destroyed Ali to get that. Andrade really destroyed Ali with double knees to the back of the head, but only a near fall. Ali then rolled up Andrade for the win. 

Grade: B-. A stronger B-, because these guys are really good, but it just felt very telegraphed. The spots weren’t very crisp, and this really felt like it’d be a glorified squash match until the rollup. I think this win means that Ali will be added to the match at Super Showdown, and it is looking better with each match that is added. Because that triple threat would be killer. 

Backstage, R-Truth was made into a drag queen by Carmella, complete with a bra, which Truth needed help with because he could never really get them open. Not really feeling this so far, but lets see where it goes.

Then we had Mandy Rose vs. Carmella. Truth came out with Carmella and tried to do her entrance, but could not moonwalk. Commentators pointed out how stupid it was for Truth to still wear the belt, and that he was on TV and everyone knew where he was. Sonya Deville kinda got involved, and Carmella beat her ass in the middle of the ring, which caused a distraction for Rose. However, the entire lowcard ran out to attack Truth, and I think the match ended in a DQ? Or maybe Carmella lost by Countout? I dunno, but imma lump this as a 24/7 segment.

Someone (dunno her name) then interviewed Bayley about her two wins on Sunday. She just said that she was gonna be a great champion and wants people to bring their best.

Carmella and Truth tried to hide in the ladies locker room, but Truth refused and they were chased. 

Sami Zayn vs. Kofi Kingston was next, but Big E was assaulted backstage. Kingston assumed that it was Zayn, and beat the crap out of him early on in the match. They didn’t do many spots that were totally incredible, but Kingston won with a trouble in paradise.

After the match, Heyman showed up and teased a cash in. Kofi was ready to fight off Lesnar, but then Dolph Ziggler returned to kick his ass. Ziggler wasn’t injured, but he was basically hired as a higher card enhancement guy at this point. Ziggler went for Kingston’s neck, assaulting it with a chair. Kofi pulled a stretcher job, which went on for a real long time, but he was actually able to walk out on his own.

Grade: B. Fine, but nothing really more than that. I am definitely into Kingston vs. Ziggler, especially now. I smell a WWE championship match at super showdown. Definitey into that. I bumped this up a grade because of the post match angle. When commentators talked about it, they used their serious voices. So this was a serious attack.

Roman Reigns was in the parking lot walking into the building, but Elias was on the top of a trailer and he played him a song on the guitar, saying he’d take the big dog on a walk. I-I don’t know why anyone would do that, it wasn’t intimidating. I’m just kinda baffled.

Then we had a women’s Tag Team match, Lacey Evans and Charlotte Flair vs. Becky Lynch and Bayley. Before the match, Lynch commented that she wanted her Smackdown Women’s Championship back, and while she said that she was happy Bayley is holding it, she looked Bayley in the eye and said she was coming for her next. Also, on commentary, Graves said that he was able to throw a football a quarter mile in high school (I dunno why) and Saxton said that he was surprised Graves could even through a football. Philips just muttered “that was clever Saxton” and I laughed. I like when they acknowledge that Saxton gets one over on Graves. Bayley was beat down by the heels, Lynch got the hot tag. Lynch had a disarmer locked in at one point, but Evans nailed her with a women’s right. Bayley was able to tag herself in, throwing Evans out of the ring and then rolling up Flair for another win.

Grade: C. Another kinda lame tag match. Of course the champions would win here, but I am glad that Bayley went over. Aside from the ending stretch, this was unspectacular and just heels working the faces. 

In the last 24/7 segment of the night, Truth nearly got beaten by Jinder Mahal, but he kicked out and fought him off. The B-team then ambushed Truth, but they couldn’t decide who would pin him, so he was also able to fight them off and run away with Carmella.

Grade: D+. Yeah, this gimmick really takes a hurtin when all it is chasing people around. Truth was being pretty funny early on, but this was kinda lame because it was all of the low card guys just chasing people. They kinda had something good when a couple guys actually fought Truth, but that was really it. I hope they do more with this, like showing social media videos of title changes. 

Backstage, Ziggler was interviewed about attacking Kingston, but he refused to answer in the interview. Instead he stole the mic and went out for a promo. He said that Kingston didn’t deserve the opportunity at Wrestlemania, Ziggler did. He deserved everything that Kofi got, but he hasn’t gotten it. He sounded like he was about to cry the entire time. He issued the challenge for Super Showdown. 

Grade: B. This was an odd promo, but Ziggler kinda pulled it off. He delivered the emotion, and was kinda sympathetic the entire time. Not the route I would have gone, but this was good enough to get a B from me.

Then we had Roman Reigns vs. Elias, the rematch. The two started off with a slugfest, with Elias being fine with cutting some corners during this match. Shane was interfering quite a bit during the match, often distracting Reigns to aid Elias. At one point, Shane saved Elias by putting his foot on the rope. Reigns was pissed and drilled Shane with a drive by, but that was when Elias just wrecked Roman by throwing him around ringside, and an elbow drop for a near fall. Shane then placed the guitar in the ring and Elias grabbed it, only to be speared by Reigns for the win.

Shane attacked after the match, and went to use the guitar himself, but ate a superman punch. Roman was then gonna use the guitar, but Drew McIntyre ran in out of nowhere and nailed him with a claymore to stand tall. 

Grade: B. I would have been satisfied with this match on a pay per view, so it was a serviceable main event here. That is one last roadblock between Reigns and McMahon. It sucks that McIntyre needs to get his ass beat too, but that’ll probably happen. Match of the night for me, which is kinda impressive considering that Andrade vs. Ali opened the show.

Overall Grade: C+.

Pros: Ziggler return; Ziggler promo; main event

Cons: Women’s tag; 24/7 segment

[brutuskorov]

betrayal never comes from the enemy...

(a character analysis)

basic information

FULL NAME: boris korov PRONUNCIATION: BO-ris KO-rov MEANING: boris - fight, fighter. REASONING: his father named him long before he was born. boris, fighter, if he was a boy. sezia, protector, if he’d been born a girl. for his father, his child (regardless of gender) was to be his legacy -- he meant for the name ‘korov’ to mean something. boris is not as ambitious as his father; he’s more of a follower than a leader, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t follow his father’s words. (it is lesser known that is mother called him borya, little snatches of affection he holds close to his chest.)  NICKNAME(S): brutus, borya PREFERRED NAME(S): brutus BIRTH DATE: december 23rd AGE: 33 ZODIAC: capricorn GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him/his ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual (while boris has experienced attraction towards multiple genders, he only ever acts on it with women) NATIONALITY: russian ETHNICITY: alaskan native; kuyokan-athabascan CURRENT LOCATION: verona, italy LIVING CONDITIONS: simple & stark, though he has the means for a more luxurious life. TITLE(S): emissary

background

BIRTH PLACE: yekatrinburg, russia HOMETOWN: verona, italy (since he was a teen) SOCIAL CLASS: boris was born poor. his father earned well enough through his criminal dealings, but spent it just as quickly -- he was a man who enjoyed life and didn’t believe in the notion of saving. boris himself made his way up  EDUCATION LEVEL: boris’ education is haphazard and all over the place due to the instability of his father’s career. he completed his 12th year in italy, but went back to russia to spend some time in the conscripted army. boris didn’t return to school for a while, focusing more on mafia activities. he did return to school and started a degree in strategic management when he left verona, but dropped the program when he returned to the Montagues. FATHER: vadim korov MOTHER: juniper korov née locklear SIBLING(S): talia korov (deceased before boris’ birth) BIRTH ORDER: i. talia -- ii. boris CHILDREN: n/a PET(S): a moroccoan uromastyx named ‘lizard’ OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: cousin -- ava locklear (located in america); niece -- sonya locklear (located in america) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a ARRESTS?: a couple times for teenage stupidity, but his connections to the mafia meant he always got off PRISON TIME?: n/a

occupation & income

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: private military contractor through almaz-antey SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: montague emissary TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: n/a APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: appx.  € 180,000 / year CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: boris knows he didn’t earn his job -- he was placed there with the intention of smoothing the way for montague goals. he’s specifically assigned to various pharmaceutical and drug companies where he intentionally suggests security plans that leave room for the montagues to take their share. it also allows him to play the part of a bodyguard when necessary. the job satisfies the hum under his skin that demands action but it isn’t exactly his passion.   PAST JOB(S): montague soldier SPENDING HABITS: he doesn’t really spend money beyond essentials. of course, at this point, essentials includes paying off contracted killers, bribing government officials, etc. picking apart a mafia empire isn’t cheap, but he doesn’t really spend money on himself. he’s not thrifty but his income to expenditure ratio means he ends up having plenty in his bank account. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: tucked in a cabinet by his flat’s front door is a getaway bag -- it contains burner phones, travel documents, everything he could need to run again.

skills & abilities

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 8/10 OFFENSE: 7/10 DEFENSE: 7/10 SPEED: 7/10 INTELLIGENCE: 8/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 6/10 STAMINA: 9/10 TEAMWORK: 5/10 TALENTS: tactics & strategy, far-sighted, detailed SHORTCOMINGS: disloyal, selfish, detached LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: russian (fluent), italian (fluent, but accented), english (passable) DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes SWIM?: no PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: no PLAY CHESS?: yes BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: no PICK A LOCK?: yes

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: martin sensmeier EYE COLOR: dark brown HAIR COLOR: black HAIR TYPE/STYLE: usually short -- he wore it in a buzzcut during his brief stint in military GLASSES/CONTACTS?: n/a DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 6′1″ WEIGHT: 75 kg BUILD: tall, solid -- not buff, but not lean either EXERCISE HABITS: he’s very regimented in his exercise -- runs early every morning, weight trains every other day, practices hand to hand fairly frequently. he likes moving in any form. SKIN TONE: dark brown with warm, coppery undertones  TATTOOS: though he’s often contemplated getting one, he hasn’t found a design he’d like to commit to PEIRCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: a scar on his leg from jumping a barbed wire fence, a bullet scar on his shoulder, a couple others here and there he doesn’t even remember getting -- he fought too often to remember every scar NOTABLE FEATURES: high cheek bones and full lips; his gaze is very flat USUAL EXPRESSION: stoic, veering towards a scowl  CLOTHING STYLE: he gets cold easily, so he wears jackets well into summer. he prefers neutral tones. dark jeans, beige turtleneck and an army jacket is a very typical basic outfit that he’ll wear anywhere. JEWELRY: n/a. ALLERGIES: peanuts BODY TEMPERATURE: normal DIET: his diet is unhealthy in that he very rarely cooks for himself, but he does eat a variety of food and prefers high protein diets. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a

psychology

JUNG TYPE: ISTJ JUNG SUBTYPE: Type A ENNEAGRAM TYPE: type 8 – the challenger MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: earth PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: kinesthetic/spatial APPROXIMATE IQ: 110 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: n/a SOCIABILITY: introvert EMOTIONAL STABILITY: stable, his mood does not shift easily OBSESSION(S): damiano montague COMPULSION(S): he’s very particular about the state of things in his home. he likes it clean and neat. PHOBIA(S): n/a ADDICTION(S): he knows his father had a problem with gambling so he avoids it DRUG USE: he prefers alcohol to drugs ALCOHOL USE: he drinks to unwind, sticking to beers mostly. at parties he’ll go for dark liquors but he doesn’t particularly care for booze. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: ha. yes. but he’s tempered his instincts well.

mannerisms

SPEECH STYLE: when he speaks, it is short and concise, never more than necessary. he will answer questions at face value and doesn’t elaborate unless asked. He takes lots of pauses and is slow to reveal his thoughts. ACCENT: his russian is flawless, his italian less so -- the words tend to come out a bit harsher. his english is passable with a strong russian accent. QUIRKS: if boris can walk somewhere instead of taking a vehicle, he will. he hates public transportation however, and prefers motorcycles to every other vehicle. HOBBIES: running, walking, listen to music HABITS: he runs every morning, immediately after waking up. he drinks his coffee black (he doesn’t like espresso). he wakes up at 5:45 am every morning, no matter what time he went to bed. boris is inherently a man of habit, he likes routines. NERVOUS TICKS: fist clenching and setting his jaw DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: revenge, justice, respect, family FEARS: failure POSITIVE TRAITS: driven, reliable, dedicated, detailed NEGATIVE TRAITS: selfishness, fails to see bigger picture, disloyal SENSE OF HUMOR: sarcasm, understatements, subtle humor DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: to emphasize a point. CATCHPHRASE(S): n/a

favorites

ACTIVITY: running ANIMAL: gazelle BEVERAGE: water BOOK: he doesn’t really read. CELEBRITY: natalie dormer COLOR:  navy blue DESIGNER: he doesn’t know designers.  FOOD: pierogies FLOWER: red poppies (his mother’s favorite) GEM: diamonds HOLIDAY: winter holidays in general MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking MOVIE: the good, the bad, the ugly MUSICAL ARTIST: jidenna QUOTE/SAYING: “no legacy is so rich as honesty.” SCENERY: wide open lakes that are frozen over SCENT: pine SPORT: boxing SPORTS TEAM: italian football TELEVISION SHOW: 24 WEATHER: cold & brisk VACATION DESTINATION: mountains

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: destroying the montagues GREATEST FEAR: failing his father’s legacy MOST AT EASE WHEN: running LEAST AT EASE WHEN: attending fancy parties WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: getting caught in his schemes before he’s ready BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: returning to the montagues despite his betrayal BIGGEST REGRET: leaving in the first place -- he has to re-prove himself MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: when he was young, he once cried after falling. his father laughed so hard, he never cried over little things again. BIGGEST SECRET: he betrayed the montagues to a russian mob TOP PRIORITIES: slowly dismantling the montague empire

[carumens]

sunflowers at night snippet: valba’s and gerah’s first real convo

longer excerpt because i wrote literally 0 words on the first day of nano (this is self-indulging i know). just a tip, listen with the song i linked because it captures the mood perfectly and it’s just a song in replay in my head rn.

tagging: @kit-tells-a-story @annaalexiswrites @katabasiss @omgbrekkerkaz@aetheriium @sleepyscribbling @katherinescribbles @naturallysweetnloaded@maskedlady @writing-kimmi @endymions @chellewrites @the-ichor-of-ruination @breakingpointwip @cosmo-worlds @theforgottencoolkid @florhiver@jess—writes @nexiliss @easypreywip @brekkerings@saintephemeral @crimescenedwrites 

https://youtu.be/OtFRcJpzEwA

Gerah Mayham was a strange creature. Spoiled only child born rich who felt irrationally wretched for having to wear slacks and dress shoes all the time. His whining was a silent one, never a word of discomfort leaving his mouth in front of his parents, the only sign of his restlessness being the sullen looks he sent his own clothes. Apparently, he’d declared war on using more than one type of fork when eating and was often reprimanded by Mrs. Mayham because there are different types of cutlery for a reason, Gerah.

Valba had discovered a heap of ragged hoodies, ripped jeans and battered sneakers behind a thorny bush that was far away enough from the house to be considered out of bounds from her jurisdiction, but the Mayham was nowhere to be found and she didn’t want to lose her job on the first day. Well, maybe she wouldn’t mind losing that particular job, but her father wouldn’t be happy if she did. Valba picked up one of the shaggy tee shirts and crinkled her nose at the mud and grass stains covering the white fabric. So it’s true, she thought.

A rumor had been circulating the village for some years now, that Gerah Mayham bought old almost-rubbishy clothes from the boys in the village, seemingly oblivious to their curious and sometimes enraged expressions when he approached them to offer money for their rags. Because he only bought rags, the kind Valba wore to work on the land or Tom Sanders used the days he had to clean the stables. She didn’t give too much credit to the gossip always pumping through Romello but from time to time a rumor was in fact a truth, and it seemed this was one of those times.

Valba sighed, dropped the muddled shirt and turned around, a hand coming up to shade her eyes as she scanned the vast green expanse surrounding Mayham Manor. She could see the gravel path that led to the village, the same path she had taken a few days ago to officially meet the Mayhams before she got hired— “Just a formality, love, I already talked to Mrs. Mayham myself,” her mother had said. “But it’d be good if you went by and presented yourself to them.” Behind Mayham Manor, the world looked like a crazy puzzle, as if a god couldn’t quite decide if he wanted a prairie or a forest, irregular patches of green and yellow grass suddenly cut out by a stubborn of high pine trees. Just like that, no gradualism, no creeping appearance of bushes and trees, just a sudden firm line separating the meadow from the woods—an ovation to saltationism.

There weren’t any more places where Gerah Mayham could have gone. Valba had looked everywhere, every room inside labyrinthic Mayham Manor, every crevice and potential hiding place in the immense garden. Five minutes, that’s what it had taken her to go to the bathroom, five minutes and Gerah was nowhere to be found. He tends to disappear, Mrs. Mayham had said, just keep an eye on him, he has a few health problems. That was her job: easy, simple, less demanding than she had thought it would be. When she arrived at the Mayhams a few days before, she thought she would be working as maid, cleaning endless halls and airing mattresses so they’d be soft and fresh for their rich Mayham owners, or maybe in the kitchen, struggling to cook French and Italian dishes she had not once in her life heard about. In actuality, her job revolved about one simple task: babysitting Gerah Mayham.

“Not babysitting,” Gerah had huffed when she had asked, more out of spite than real incredulity, why would a seventeen-year-old need a nanny to babysit him.

“Not babysitting,” Mrs. Mayham had repeated, a small polite smile plastered on her shiny chocolate face. “Just keep him company. You see—” she had said, sipping from the greenish tea she had served for the three of them. “My husband has had to go back to the city, business matters, and we have decided it would be the best for me to move with him.” There was a trace of a long-gone accent in her words, a quiet slur in the way she pronounced consonants that made Valba think of straw houses and colorful dresses. “Gerah will be staying here, since the school year has already started.”

“Okay,” had said Valba.

“It would be most convenient if you moved here,” Mrs. Mayham had looked at her intently while she spoke. “Not if you do not want to, of course.” Valba knew it was an essential condition for her to get the job, an order, even if it didn’t sound like one.

“What?” Gerah had jerked from the velvety sofa he had been tightly sitting in so suddenly that he dropped the cup of tea he was holding. “You didn’t say anything about her moving in, mom!”

“Well, your dad and I decided it only this morning.”

“But—” he looked at Valba, golden eyes almost popping out of his sockets. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Go change, Gerah, will you?” Mrs. Mayham’s smile looked murderous. “And call Sonya, you have made quite a mess here.”

Then Gerah had walked out of the room, seemingly calm, but Valba could see the clenching in his fists and the slight change in the set of his jaw.

Valba took off her faded espadrilles, dropped them beside Gerah’s puddle of second-hand clothes and started trotting through the high grass towards the clean line of pine trees, her feet feather-light on the dry mud. She loved the feeling of nature pressing against the soles of her feet, memories of infantile eternal summer days threading through the forest, Mark close on her heels, his too-big hands for a nine-year-old threatening with grabbing her and throwing her to the Chrysalis River. Not that being thrown to the river was too big of a trauma—winters were warm in Romello and summers were full-time furnace-hot— but it felt good knowing that not even racy Mark Marks could beat her in speed.

The forest surrounding northern Romello was a strange one: an aleatory turmoil of pines and oaks and weeping willows and wildflowers in every shade and color, bees and wolves and snakes that hid themselves in the fresh foliage, butterflies and rhinoceros beetles and poison ivy, a mind-blowing mix of polar opposites that made Romello seem a little bit more interesting for Valba. The Chrysalis River ran through it, a marvelous stream of crystal clear water and tiny colored fish that shone metallic in the sunlight.

She entered the forest, twigs and sticks snapping under the hardened feet, fingers stopping briefly to caress the bark of a tree or pull at her cotton t-shirt when it got tangled up in a low branch. It didn’t take her too long to find Gerah Mayham sprawling at the edge of the river, trousers rolled up to his knees and feet deep into the glassy Chrysalis’ water and his usually perfectly-combed hair a mess of charcoal tangles. A puff of smoke left his mouth, and as she approached, Valba could see a rather large pile of cigarette butts carelessly forming near the river bank.

“What are you doing?”

Gerah turned around so quickly the cigarette fell from where it was dangling on his lips. “Shit,” he said, as he picked it up before it could scorch even further his already scorched-looking jeans. “How did you find me?”

Valba arched a brow. “You haven’t gone too far.”

“Mom and Dad never found me here,” he said, taking a last drag of his cigarette and putting it out in the wet soil next to him.

“Well, then they’re not very good at looking for things,” said Valba. “Or they didn’t even try.”

Gerah frowned, his dark brows coming together in a way that didn’t seem fitting for him, not that Valba knew him a lot.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you going to tell me not to smoke?” Said Gerah, a tense set to his jaw that seemed somehow out of place for him. Valba didn’t know Gerah Mayham at all, but she remembered punching him in the face, and not even then had he seemed the littlest bit aggressive. He looked different now, she realized, not only because of his haggard looks, but for the vibrating aura around his posture, a wild animal prepared to jump.

“No, your lungs are yours to fuck,” she said. “I’m only gonna tell you not to put off your cigarettes here, because as surprising as it may be, the forest is actually not yours to fuck.”

Gerah sent a side glance to the butt mountain in the mud. “Okay,” he said, and his shoulders sagged visibly.

Valba leaned against the nearest tree and slid down, the rough bark scratching her skin, her bare feet creating muddy indents in the fresh soil. There was something, Valba didn’t quite know what, about the stillness of the forest that calmed down even the roughest of her edges, all thoughts about her life debt to Gerah Mayham almost forgotten. It was such a contrast with the bustling life inside the village, all whispers and shouts and overload of information.

“I don’t need you monitoring me,” said Gerah, his iridescent eyes trained on her.

Valba held his gaze. “Your parents seem to differ on that matter,” she said.

“Fuck you, you don’t need to be here.”

“Actually, I do. Because I need the money. Not that I expect you to understand what need is.”

Gerah dropped his eyelids, white teeth coming out to chew on his lower lip. He started fiddling with the cigarette butts, and Valba thought she could see something changing in him. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned slightly backwards to rest on his elbows, the edges of his coal-rimmed lashes softening into something akin to curiosity. Suddenly, he was the dumbstruck boy that had stuttered at her a year before all over again, when she punched him in the face after he pushed her off the road and weakly demanded a “thank you” in exchange.

“Were you born here in Romello?” He asked, and Valba felt, much to her dismay, her own eyebrow raising in amusement.

“Born and raised,” she answered.

He looked at her, expectant, as if waiting for Valba to ask something to him in return, and frowned slightly, his nose furrowing childishly, when he realized it wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I was born here, too,” he said. “But mom’s from Spain. I’d like to go visit someday.”

Valba knew the story: young handsome and promising Nicholas Mayham made an extremely important business trip to Seville where he fell desperately in love with young intelligent and exotic Nerea Murillo, who worked as a touristic guide to pay for her university fees. They married, moved to the United States of America, and after some very happy and dreamy years of marriage, decided to have a child and raise him in the quiet tranquility and safety of a lost village in the mountains, far from America and its cardiac-arresting life. Fairytale-like.

She could almost picture Nerea Mayham in her younger years, caffeinated skin glistening under the Andalusian sun the same way Gerah’s did under the stray rays that perforated the shady canopies of Romello’s forest.

“Your name’s not Spanish, though.” She said. “Nor English.”

Gerah looked up at her from where he was fiddling with the fallen foliage. “No, actually, it means something in Javanese, but it’s not supposed to be a name?” he said. “But they let you name your children however you want nowadays so…”

Valba frowned. “Why Javanese?”

Gerah shrugged. “Mom thought it was fancy.” He shrugged again, as it to clarify that he did not think it was fancy at all. Valba hated to agree with him.

“What does it mean?”

Gerah stared at her, a moment too-long for his ever-shifting gaze. “I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie,” said Valba, leaning forward.

“It’s not,” he said, his eyes stubbornly trained on Valba’s muddy bare feet.

“It is, how would you know it wasn’t supposed to be a name—”

“What do you care?” Gerah bristled, a flash of the boy Valba had found aggressively smoking next to the river some minutes earlier.

Valba leaned back again. “I don’t,” she said.

[afangirlwashere]

And so the night went on (TDC happy ending fanfic)

(gif is not mine all credit goes to the creator)

A/N: This is the fanfiction that I wrote for the @mazerunnersecretsanta gift exchange this Christmas. I just wanted to post it somewhere on my blog as well because I think it’s a nice short read that’s gonna make all the angsty TMR fans feel good...for once... I really suggest you play the song that I put the link to for this thing because it perfectly describes the ending of the book and movie and I can’t stress that enough to everybody. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: How would an average day in the safe haven look like if there weren't so many lives lost?

Warnings: No warnings really, it’s just gonna leave you feeling good (I hope)

MASTERLIST

(please please pleasee just listen to this while reading or whenever.. it fits everything perfectly and I love everything about this song so just please?) 

The waves of the sea hit the rocks of the hill. It always made Newt feel a bit better when he could count the seconds before the waves hit the rock and it would always be the exact same timing.  He loved sitting there in the mornings looking at the rising sun trying to enjoy every moment of the piece it brought him. 

He never slept too well even after two years of being free of WICKED and the maze. He was on a routine what felt like was his whole life and he couldn't drop it the same way Minho couldn't. Newt would see him running alongside the shore every morning when he came to the hill. 

Sometimes - after he had his run - Minho would come to the hill too. They didn't talk they just sat in silence and watched the sun slowly rising and listened to the whispers of the waves. And eventually one of them would leave and the other one soon after but they never mentioned these moments when they spoke to each other later in the day.  There weren't even any knowing looks. It was as if it never happened which left Newt wondering if he didn't just imagine Minho being there with him. 

After he left the hill this morning he found Thomas and Gally in the kitchen eating breakfast. Both had a smirk on their face. 

"Why do you look like two giggling high school girls that just got noticed by their crush?" Newt sits next to Thomas and elbows him in the arm. 

"Well, Thomas here made a bet!" Gally's strong voice fills the room. 

“Do we got a gambler here Tommy?" Newt snickers "What's it about?" 

"He said he can beat me in wrestling tonight when we set the bonfire."

"You going back to the glade fun, huh?" Newt softly smiles thinking of the nights the boys let loose. 

He hated the glade, he still does with everything he got... but some of the Vatra nights when he got wasted and watched Gally tackle a few greenies? They were probably the most pleasant memories he had of that place. 

"I have to beat him so that he stops throwing in my face that he beat me that one time." Thomas takes a chug of water and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Fair enough..." Newt shrugs.

"You're gonna get crushed dude." Minho sits opposite Newt wiping away some sweat from running.

Newt feels the need to back his friend up a bit "Have a bit more faith in him! Tommy might be a bit more brains than muscles-"

"A bit more brains?" Gally's drink snorts from his nose "He's a shukface! Watched him get oversmarted by Brenda so many times I lost count!” 

“Yeah. You’re an idiot Tom.” Teresa sits beside Gally with her own breakfast. 

Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she looks very sleepy. She was known to be a heavy sleeper. The only person that dared to ever wake her up was either Thomas or Sonya.

They kept arguing about Thomas's chances of beating Gally for a while but they eventually had to start doing their work.

Watching the bonfire was another soothing thing for Newt. He liked watching his friends having the fun they deserved. 

Obviously, Thomas got his ass kicked by Gally once again. Newt saw Harriet and Aris leading him to the medics because he hurt his ankle when he fell.  Minho was stumbling after them with a good amount of alcohol in his system laughing his ass off. 

Sonya - Newt’s sister - sat in a circle with a bunch of other girls from group B. She noticed Newt looking her way so she waved at him. He looked after her as much as he could once he remembered who she was. 

“I heard that Harriet is going to do it tomorrow morning.” Teresa leaned on a tree that was next to Newt.

“Tomorrow?” he asks surprised. 

“Yeah... She’s gonna take her to the hill before sunrise and propose there.” Teresa smiles softly at Newt’s little sister that giggled in her friend group “I suppose Harriet asked for your permission?” 

“She did.” Newt nods “But I knew even before she asked me. I found out on accident a month ago when I searched for some layouts that Gally and the builders needed. Harriet is great at drawing but she shouldn’t jot down her speech on the official papers with the layouts.” 

Teresa lets out a chuckle.

Her eyes are already almost closing because of the tiredness “They’re going to be happy. I know it.” 

“I’m bloody sure of it too.” 

“Hey Newt!” Brenda shouts from the beach “We’re playing Blind Man’s Bluff and we need more people, you two in?!” 

A slightly drunk Jorge swayed around while waving his hands in the air “I’m the blind maaaan!” 

Newt and Teresa look at each other with bright smiles. Of course they would want to play that game and want the two people that are the worst in it playing as well.

“Sure thing!” Teresa shouts back and drags Newt with her. 

“This is going to be so bad!” Newt protests while laughing.

“Maybe. But it’ll be fun! When Jorge gets drunk it’s always fun.” she starts pulling her hair back to get the best view. 

And so the night went on... And there were many nights like these to come in the future. 

[fartandsoul]

this would b rly cute w sonyamary: "I almost asked you to the Winter Ball in high school fifteen years ago, but chickened out, but now we’re both home for Christmas and single and maybe we’ve got a second chance?"

is kj.....answering asks again......(the answer is kind of)

~

“sofia? sofia rostova?” 

the voice sounds familiar, but in the midst of the coffee shop chatter, sonya can’t quite place it. she looks up from her coffee and tries to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. is that...? 

“hi, i don’t know if you remember me...mary bolkonskya? we went to high school together.”

shaking her surprise away, sonya gets to her feet and hugs mary. “yeah, hi! i didn’t expect to see you here--how are you? how’s andrei?”

“he’s fine! actually, i’m here getting coffee for him before i pick him up at the airport.” mary checks her watch. “he’s home for christmas, like me. how are you?”

“i’m good, but don’t let me keep you if you have to get going,” sonya says.

“no, no, i have time. i wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.”

the silence lasts half a beat too long this time, and they both begin to speak at once. 

“it’s-”

“well-”

“sorry, go ahead.”

“i was going to say it’s great to see you again,” sonya says. “and here of all places.”

“what do you mean?” mary frowns, looking confused.

sonya realizes a second too late that there’s no good way to say i used to come here every day to study just because you used to stop in for tea sometimes and i still remember your order (medium lavender green tea, extra hot) fifteen years later. 

she adjusts her scarf while her mind flails for something to say instead. “oh, i thought you used to work here...maybe i’m remembering someone else. it’s been a while.” 

mary laughs. “that’s okay.” a shout from the barista calls her attention away. “oh, that’s andrei’s drink -- i have to go, but i hope you have a great holiday.”

“thanks,” sonya says, wishing she could disappear. “you too!”

mary leaves with a wave, and sonya sits to nurse her now-cold coffee. 

god. she’s still so pretty. she sighs, trying to go back to the article she was reading before mary showed up to derail her thoughts. but her mind won’t stop whirring, bringing up memory after memory that she hasn’t recalled in years but which now resurface easily.

***

winter ball posters blanketed the halls in blue and white. sonya tried to ignore them as she pushed through the crowds of students with her head down, but it was impossible not to think about it when a new Big Ask happened every five minutes. cheers at the end of the hall told her that another one had just said yes.  

sonya sighed. she would have just gone with nikolai as friends, but he was already going with vaska, and natasha was going with pierre, so she couldn’t tag along with them either. it was just her. no date. and no dress.

natasha had gone dress shopping a week ago and found something beautiful in minutes, of course, but sonya hadn’t tried anything on, no matter how many dresses natasha held up in front of her with a squeal of, “oh, you would look so pretty in this!”

she deposited books into her locker with a thud, but the sound of the next door locker opening sent a bolt of anxiety through her. shit. 

“hi, sonya!” it was mary. tall, willowy, beautiful as ever, and flashing that smile as she leaned over from her locker. 

sonya’s mind rocketed into orbit, unnecessarily conjuring a scene of mary in a dress, arm in arm with sonya as they stepped into the gymnasium, which was decked out for winter ball. sonya pushed the image away. mary wasn’t all that popular either, but she was far too smart for sonya.

“sonya? you okay?”

sonya blinked. “yes, fine.” her gaze flicked upwards, anywhere but mary’s face, and landed on one of the posters. “do you--i mean, are you going to winter ball?”

“i wasn’t planning to,” mary said, looking away. 

“oh.

“are you?”

“no, i wasn’t going to either,” sonya said. ask her! screamed her brain. with a deep breath, she opened her mouth again, but the bell rang and mary closed her locker.

“see you,” mary said, and walked away, head down. 

***

an hour has passed by the time sonya starts her car, and the sunset gleams behind the moscow rooftops. less than a week until christmas, and then...what? back to late nights alone with the cat and a book, back to early morning carpools to the nonprofit with pierre and natasha, back to matching her socks to her scarf every day even though nobody would know. 

not a bad life, really. she loves the last tendrils of sunrise that she gets to watch on the drive to work as she sips the hot drink natasha always presses into her hands when she slides into the back seat. and she loves the cat, no matter how much of its hair she has to brush off her uniform in the mornings.

“i just...i want somebody to know what socks i’m wearing,” sonya says to the air. somebody besides the cat who will greet her as she slides her shoes off at the end of the day. it’s a tiny thing, but it hurts sometimes. 

sonya parks and takes the stairs to her apartment. inside the door, she kicks off her shoes and stares down at her socks: black and white checks to match her black and white scarf. the cat obscures her view a moment later, winding around her shins. 

she reaches down to pet it absentmindedly, then, on impulse, pulls out her phone. it’s been fifteen years, but...

sonya (7:15 pm): hey, i know it’s been a while, but do you still have andrei’s number?

natasha (7:16 pm): yeah, of course! he was just texting pierre that he’s back in town for christmas. what do you need it for?

natasha (7:16 pm): attachment, contact card: Andrei Bolkonsky

sonya (7:18 pm): thanks!

natasha (7:19 pm): no wait you have to tell me what’s going on

sonya laughs and swipes natasha’s message away. if this works out she’ll have a lot more to talk about later. she inputs the number into her phone, types a message to andrei, and hits send. 

a quick series of texts later and she has it. the contact icon is depressingly blank, but sonya can still see mary’s smile in her mind’s eye. her thumb hovers over the keyboard, and she’s gritting her teeth in preparation to type when the phone starts ringing. an unknown number.

“hello?”

“it’s mary. andrei told me you wanted my number?”

sonya almost drops the phone. “yeah, i-uh, was just thinking i should have asked for it earlier when i saw you,” 

“i was thinking the same”

“would you-would you want to get coffee sometime? while you’re in town?”

“yeah! yeah, sure, i’d love to catch up”

sonya closes her eyes. after all, why not? why not? “yes, that would be great too, but i was thinking more of...a date.”

the silence lasts only a second, but in sonya’s mind mary takes years to respond. “i...i’d love to.”

the rest of the call is a blur. sonya hangs up minutes later with her hands shaking, the smile on her face beginning to hurt her cheeks. 

sonya (7:49 pm): tasha, i have great news